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ladybracknellssherry · 5 months

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Good Omens Deep Dive Ahead! **I have edited and added to this several times now, but "ma point" has stayed the same. Probably every single reblog has a different version of this. It has turned into an absolute BEAST. You might be able to watch both seasons faster than read this at this point 😂😭

---------------------- Okay so I am rewatching S2 right now and golly. I've just noticed something. I'm sure it has already been noticed by plenty of other people so feel free to let me know, link me to some metas, please.

A lot of us have painstakingly analyzed every single frame, statue, clock tick, facial expression, and breath of the final 15. Good. Now we're going to look at the scene in S2E4/The Hitchhiker/1941 when Aziraphale and Crowley are in the bookshop doing their little pre-magic show warm-up roleplay foreplay bit. They're being surveilled by a bunch of half-witted nazi zombie spies. Aziraphale is trying to impress Crowley with his * m a g i c * Crowley is trying really hard to support his Angel.

The Blocking!

Keep in mind the camera angles are not quite the same between these scenes, the dimensions look a bit off because the lighting is completely different and therefore camera settings are different, and some of the furniture has moved a little bit in 90 years (but not much because Aziraphale)

1941 Crowley positions himself approximately / very nearly exactly in the same spot in the bookshop where present-day Crowley stops in the final 15 of S2E6 when Aziraphale says "Crowley, come back." The spot where shortly thereafter Crowley says the awful words that make us cry.

gif by stars-bean

gif by yellenabelova

1941 Azirphale with his little coins is standing in or very nearly in his same relative spot as in that scene, when present-day Aziraphale says "I need you," and "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." And where shortly thereafter he says the awful words that make us cry.

gif by wearecrowley

gif by mabellous

Then Aziraphale gets a touch insecure when Crowley suggests they go to the magic shop because it is "for professional conjurors," and Crowley responds with his "My Nefertiti Fooling Fellow" line of support and encouragement and believing in Aziraphale. And in that moment Crowley stands and walks towards Aziraphale. And they are mere inches away from one another either fully in or very nearly exactly where they stood or rather will stand during the kiss. I'm not gonna post a kiss gif we have all seen it ten bajillion times and I do not need to cry tonight it is a Wednesday.

gif by gigew

gif by ajcrowleys

(I’m getting ahead of myself for a second but seriously, c’mon, just look at this fluff muffin's genuine smile above and tell me if it looks anything like that strained nightmare on his face in the gif below.)

gif by dykefaggotry

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE. And take from this what you will. That happy little 1941 West End Girl with his vanished farthing basking in the glow of what he now knows is his Demon's adoration. Rotate our duo 180° around the bookshop and Az is now primed to move into the position where he gives his frantic The Metatron's not so bad of a dude and Heaven are the Good Guys and Crowley is one of the Bad Guys nonsense ridiculousness that totally walks back on Aziraphale's entire character growth over 2 seasons. Could it possibly visually represent that our favorite little white-winged stim-city cinnamon roll found himself in the final 15 in a situation at a complete 180° from that moment in 1941 when he was so happy and being genuinely sincerely himself and he was about to do something that he really actually genuinely wanted so badly to do and it was GOOD and it was RIGHT. Crowley's confession is obviously such a wildcard. At this point in 1941 Crowley is supporting and encouraging and working with Aziraphale and in the final 15 he is doing exactly not that.

And even more. In both the 1941 scene and the final 15, Crowley has just entered, respectively, a church and Heaven to save Aziraphale in the middle of the blitz/a demon army almost war battle. A massive atmospheric difference is that 1941 happens at night and the final 15 happens in the morning. We'll work on figuring out what that might represent.

And then we have some seriously upsetting parallel Angel/Demon on the shoulder blocking/framing moments.

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and

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And several more of such occur between the two scenes but I simply cannot.

And here's the part where I ramble and try to make sense of this in terms of the theories and fail miserably.

Get up, stretch your legs, have a glass of water, and take several deep breaths in.....and out..... You good? Let's go.

I've said it many times before and I stand by it that Aziraphale was lying through his teeth to Crowley in the final 15. Not because he wanted to lie to Crowley to convince him to come or to try to push him away - but because he was putting on a show for the Metatron. I think that just like the nazi zombies in 1941, the Metatron in S2E6 was absolutely watching Az's every move in the bookshop. And Az knew it. The first few times I watched it I thought Aziraphale's nervous glances to his left during his weird speech and the divorce were just nervous glances. Then I noticed that after he turned to face the other direction, his nervous glances went in the same direction, to his right side now, all the while to the window. It's alarming the frequency, several times a minute (but you were already acutely aware of the window glances you ineffably clever little shits.) I believe the whole final scene between our babies was an attempt at a sleight of hand by Aziraphale to subversively communicate with Crowley without letting on to the Metatron. How fitting that the parallel scene in 1941 revolved around supporting one another and planning and rehearsing for a performance that required for them to trust each other implicitly. And while I believe the act is for the Metatron, he is acting at Crowley - but expected him to catch on and act with him using coded language, movements, expressions, etc. that he expected/hoped Crowley would be able to read. However, both Crowley and Aziraphale in the final 15 were very clearly genuinely distraught for their own reasons. Crowley is about to finally verbally profess his love - and Aziraphale, I quite think, is terrified about his conversation with the Metatron and what's about to happen and is trying to come up with a tactic on the spot. It seems very likely to me that the intensity of their respective emotions in this moment absolutely doomed their communication.

How this all fits in with the leading theories.

I don't buy into the coffee theory. I think that was a metaphor or an allusion or symbolic of a very real "either accept my offer (which is not something you even want because everyone knows Aziraphale doesn't drink coffee) or suffer some dire consequences." I can't imagine Aziraphale would have ever thought the Metatron's offer was genuine and given out of merit. Surely he knew that he was in trouble. He'd thwarted the apocalypse, quit his job, stopped hiding that his person is a Demon, set off alarm bells in heaven twice in one week, blew up his halo and almost started a war, and hid an archangel on the lam. “You’re honest.” Bbgygrl bold face lied to the archangels for a week and the Metatron knows and Az knows he knows.

I'm not really for the body swap theory. Not really at all.

I’m not really for Angel!Crowley’s memory was wiped. How then would he remember the passwords? Crowley’s personality is very “that bitch” so I think all of his no-idea-who-tf-you-are interactions is just him being catty.

The time stop theory seems the most intriguing, I'm listening, but not yet sold. How prominently the ticking of the clock can be heard at all times in the bookshop feels important. I find myself flummoxed by the "missing minutes" / "continuity error" with that prominent clock in a show where the attention to detail is, “as you might say, a miracle,” that is propelling whole droves of human beings to the brink of discorporation. Here's an excellent breakdown of the timeline/examination of the clock in S2 by thesherrinfordfacility

I am, at this current moment in time, in the camp that believes Az likely attempted to convince Crowley to stop time so that he could explain the situation to him. To explain the threat - either implied, inferred, or direct - from the Metatron. To try to formulate a plan together. Check out this analysis from ineffableigh and take another look at Aziraphale babbling out his Heaven propaganda. Apparently the lip-reading theory that Az was mouthing about "time" has been debunked, but I stand by what looks like Aziraphale making the "time-out" hand gesture. And that damned clock loudly ticking its heart out all season must be important. Mustn't it??

Still, I'm not entirely convinced that any time stopping actually happened, not sure when it would have happened. Crowley was so emotional in a way we have never seen him. I think its highly possible that in the heat of that moment he wasn't catching Aziraphale's signals. I think that Crowley after the talk with Maggie and Nina was so caught up in saying what he was really thinking that it used up any possible bandwidth for LISTENING. But damn those tells seem like they would be/should be giant flashing neon warning signs to Crowley.

I mean, come on, the "C"lues in Aziraphale's ramble that he is spinning a wild-ass tale with coded language that would only make sense to Crowley are pretty obvious to me. If Az was really trying to convince Crowley to do something the last thing he would say is that it would be "nice(r)." And there is no way that at that point Aziraphale could have truly still considered Crowley to be a part of Hell and therefore one of the "bad guys." Seriously? 2 whole seasons and thousands of years spent learning about shades of grey and watching the Demon, who he loves, prove in a million little ways that he loves him back, watching that Demon do the right thing over and over, and TEACHING him, the Angel, the right thing. “Nothing lasts forever.” ?? My son is talking about his BOOKS. He is talking about THEM. They are IMMORTAL. They know what Eternity means. THEY last forever. If Aziraphale wanted to convince Crowley to come back and be an Angel, he would not have used that phrase/reasoning in his argument knowing full well that when Angel!Crowley became aware that his creation would be intentionally shut down, from Aziraphale's own mouth, mind, that was the triggering event that eventually led to Crowley's fall. Further, it would never have occurred to Aziraphale to try to use hurtful language to attempt to push Crowley away at this point because it has already been proven that that doesn’t work. S1E3 “I don’t even like you! “You do!” I think his erraticism in this scene was being totally caught off guard by Crowley's confession and trying to reconcile how to process and handle that while also trying to stick to his tactic of trying to get Crowley to read him. Az is brilliant, but Crowley is the one who usually can problem solve on his feet.

Az is clever enough to discern that he wasn't being offered the position in Heaven by the Metatron - Az was being forced back to Heaven. He wouldn't be happy or excited to make a difference in Heaven because he thought it was "the side of truth, of light, of good." No. There was no longer any freedom from Heaven, no safety for Aziraphale, which meant there was no longer any safety for Crowley. And if there was one motivator for Aziraphale above all other things it would be to keep Crowley safe. He had no choice but to go back to Heaven, so its not a matter of we can make a difference. It is a matter of we have to.

While I believe all of his word horror batshit disaster monologue was a bunch of old tosh, once present-day Aziraphale turns around from that 180° position to follow Crowley, into that final configuration matching that of 1941, he starts losing it. I think he's realizing that he failed in his attempt to get Crowley to understand. He did not expect to have to keep up this act so long. Crowley is walking away. It has all gone so wrong. He is cracking and the honest words start flooding past the lies. "Work with me!" (come on, catch up, please!) "We can be together"...(reluctantly, barely even trying anymore "...angels." And then it just breaks. "I need you!" "You don't understand!" While that would seem to be the case for Az, it really, at least on the surface, does not seem to have applied for Crowley.

The parallels between the final 15 and 1941 suggest to me, at least on the surface, an inverse. In 1941 we saw joy and excitement and wonder and cooperation and communication and trust. Furfur came to take Crowley back to Hell after catching our beloveds working together. And Aziraphale, the world's not best magician, performed a magic trick that may well have saved their existences, and "got it right the time that mattered." The final 15 is, again, on the surface and ostensibly, an abject disharmony. The Metatron came to take Aziraphale back to Heaven, and made a serious effort (no, not that kind, kids) to point out how very much the Ineffables "partnership" is "irregular" and implying, I'm sure, that they would only be permitted to be together as Angels in Heaven (which is a load of steaming celestial garbage.) (We're going to see more of the Az/Metatron conversation in S3, I just know it, there is some seriously important information missing.) But, as far as we were shown, at least on the surface, all of their getting to know one another and trusting one another and being able to read one another - failed to serve them the time that mattered.

And yet. Crowley still lingered in the end and stood so poised and stoic next to the Bentley watching Az step into the Hellevator...It kind of gave a feel that maybe Crowley figured something out. Maybe he had a cool down after storming out and realized something felt very off about that conversation. Maybe he just braced himself and remembered to trust Aziraphale. Maybe as he stormed out he saw the Metatron staring daggers into the bookshop window and it clicked. Maybe in Az's furtive glance back that very last time he once again mouthed "trust me." Some version of Az's message must have finally gotten through to Crowley. Somewhere along the way. It had to have. I can't believe it didn't. All season we were shown Crowley specifically can read Aziraphale. "You have three reasons for calling me" / "tone of voice," the "trust me" lip-reading at the 1941 magic show / Crowley has seen first hand how Az acts when he lies to Heaven in the Job mini-sode. And really. Crowley knows the second coming is on the agenda after his trip to Heaven. These two put the force of their entire existence into thwarting the Apocalypse once. Would he truly believe Aziraphale would want to help bring about the second coming? Sounds unlikely.

So, perhaps, the final 15 isn't in its entirety opposed to 1941. Maybe it's just a few symbolic nods. 1941 Crowley said the magic act they need to perform together needs to be "bigger" more "dramatic." Is there something bigger and more dramatic happening? Are they performing together? Did Crowley catch on? Did they stop time? Or is there a trick, like the photo swap, so surreptitious that it's almost invisible? Perhaps there is just a metaphor in there. Maybe now Crowley has to be the one to catch the metaphorical bullet and Az has to be the one to figuratively shoot? (That's terrifying.)

And then there's still the matter of that damned clock!

Also, let's face it, Alpha Centauri was never a plan. "They'll be shutting this all down in 6000 years.” “All.” As in "the universe.” As in Alpha Centauri included. They were going to have to take some sort of action eventually. I don't think Crowley ever wanted to go. He just wanted Aziraphale to say yes. Yeah, ouch.

Last point I promise is this video from @sendarya

youtube

Here, Nightingale Sang in its entirety is lined up with the 13 seconds in which it played in the Bentley and it ends exactly at the final frames of Crowley and Aziraphale. Some have speculated that Crowley had Nightingale queued up to play on the pair's way to breakfast at the Ritz. But that doesn't make sense. Wouldn't one have a song start at the beginning? AND Crowley had yet to have his chat with Maggie and Nina. I'm not so sure that the Crowley we know would have gotten it into his head/summoned up the confidence on his own to ready THAT song. Maybe the often tone-deaf Bentley was trying to comfort Crowley by playing Nightingale? But what I think is that when Aziraphale glanced back, he made the tiniest of little Angel nudge waves to convince the Bentley to play that song. From this vantage point, Michael Aziraphale's creepy smile in the final frame conveys an entirely different sentiment. It makes him look certain. It makes him look like an Angel with a plan. If I'm right in this part, I think that would have been exactly what was needed to finally get his message, intentions, and feelings across to Crowley in a way he could understand.

Come at me hive mind!

Also still new to tumblr and think I royally fudged it on adding those gifs so I'll work on that.

#good omens #anthony j crowley #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #good omens 2 #a.z. fell #a.z fell and co #good omens analysis #good omens theories #good omens theory #good omens meta #good omens final 15 #good omens 1941

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atarathegreat · 20 days

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His Property. Sanzu Haruchiyo

Sanzu, who had been having a decent day with Bonten and pushing Takeomi to his absolute limits, finally was able to arrive home. The simple smell of cinnamon and cleaned laundry enveloped him and made it seem as if an absolutely bloodthirsty man never set foot inside the house. Your house.

And it was your house, according to the state and bank and on paper. There was no paper trail tying Sanzu to the heap of wood you made into a lavish den for the dog to rest his claws. It was better that way. Much as it was better that you only lived with him, that there was no boyfriend/girlfriend title tying him to you. You often feared he was out with whatever woman (or man, Sanzu doesn't complain as long as it's a hole) he wanted to be with. Yet in his eyes, there was only you. And he wouldn't let his work interfere with you having a normal life.

Aside from the nights he came home bloodstained and you had to burn his clothes, but that's beside the point.

Twelve steps from the door, a strange scent hit Sanzu. This wasn't something he hadn't smelled before, but usually, you let him watch as you applied makeup. And only for special occasions. Did he forget something? The living room seemed too dark as he muttered the important dates he knew under his breath. Anniversary was in a month, birthdays were already celebrated, and no one had died.

The soft pitter patter of your feet stopped in the doorway as you stared at Sanzu. "You're home already..." You angled your toes together, face turned slightly to the side as if you were looking around him. Sure, he was a little early, but-

In a flash, the light was on and Sanzu was opening every closed door, looking behind every curtain. Makeup? Surprised he was home? There was only one explanation. He didn't like the implications. "Where is he, you brat?" Sanzu stomped across the living room, jaw clenched tightly as he grabbed your arms, "Tell me now before I throw you from this house!"

"Where is who?" Your wide eyes wouldn't get you out of it this time. There was a man in his house. What other reason did you have to wear makeup at this hour? He was ready to scream, but when Sanzu grabbed your face and the makeup smeared to reveal purple skin beneath, he became a deadly calm. "Who did this to you, pet?" Firm fingers made you wince as he wiped at the area, "Who touched what is mine?"

There was only one way for you to answer him: truthfully. Sanzu knew you like the back of his hand, he constantly had you under surveillance (which should've been obvious that you couldn't cheat, but Sanzu is far from a reasonable man), and he'd be damned if he let you lie to him. Not that you never tried, but this wasn't something he tolerated.

"I'm okay, Zuzu, really-"

He squished your cheeks, making your lips pucker, "If another word leaves these pretty lips and it isn't answering my question, you will receive just punishment. Understood?"

"The neighbor... his mail was accidently put in our mailbox, and he flipped..."

Sanzu sighed. Another stupid neighbor that he has to make move. How tedious and annoying.

"Wash your face, go to bed." Sanzu kissed your nose, "I'll be home soon."

#anime #manga #x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #tokrev sanzu #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu x reader

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thesherrinfordfacility · 4 months

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the thing about surveillance is that whilst the watcher, true, may not always be - if at all - watching, the watched doesn't always know that. the threat remains the same. take this for example (tw in tags): you live in an abusive household. there are cameras all over the house, every area and every angle. there's no light to indicate when it's activated. you don't know when or where you might be being observed remotely, but risk 'punishment' if you put a toe out of line. you're allowed to do whatever you want, you have freedom! but very much from inside a barless cage. so you start to do things only when you know you have an excuse or explanation that is plausible, and can be realistically applied to keep you out of danger. and when you get away with it, you might think 'okay they weren't watching that time', but the risk never disappears, and neither does that fear.

no, heaven is not always watching aziraphale, and he's gotten away with a lot of things, but the narrative irony is that we know heaven doesn't appear to give a fuck until armageddon. aziraphale, however, has a very different perspective of heaven than the audience does; perhaps he knows something we do not, but even if that isn't the case, his viewpoint is entirely subjective. for me, the fact remains that even if heaven isn't actively surveilling him, the possibility alone is enough for him to constantly dance that line, and pull back entirely when things cut too close to the quick. in the context of him standing to lose - let's be blunt - the core identity of himself, i don't think his response to that continuous, underlying, insidious fear is all that invalid, actually

#tw: abuse #tw: domestic abuse #(lmk if other tws should be added) l #good omens #aziraphale meta

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cryptidafter · 4 months

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Voyeurism in Playboyy

First off, I will preface this by saying I am by no means an expert on film and it’s been years since I’ve written an essay so - uh - take that as you will!

One of the most fascinating elements of Playboyy to me is the overwhelming feeling of being observed. The most obvious way this is achieved is through the use of video. Characters are often recording themselves or other people and those clips are integral to the progression of major story arcs (Captain filming Keen without his consent, the clips of Nant used to investigate his disappearance, etc.) There’s this omnipresent gaze that can’t be hidden from. Someone, somewhere, is always watching. You could be recorded at any moment, your most intimate and personal moments put on display for an unseen audience, and you'd have no idea.

TV screens also play into this sense of being watched. There are often TVs on in the background of scenes. Sometimes they’re being used (Captain showing the video he made with Zouey to the rest of the rugby team, another voyeuristic act) but oftentimes they’re simply showing static (Nont has many scenes like this as do Nont and Prom together). The TV acts as a sort of window into the outside world and, in this case, we're the outsiders looking in. These characters are performing for our entertainment and Playboyy doesn't let you forget that.

Mirrors are another way that Playboyy heightens this sense of being watched. These are often most utilized with Nont as well. Private moments are being “reflected” back both to the character and the viewer. It's a double dose of being looked at. Twice the attention and judgment.

However, what I really want to touch on are the characters’ sense of being observed by us (the audience) thanks to some really neat camera work and breaking of the fourth-wall. We're voyeurs in our own way, another element that Playboyy plays with and draws our attention to (no, I will not be getting into the overarching theme of being surveilled by society because I'd be here all day).

To start, so we’re all on the same page, some basic definitions of voyeurism and the fourth wall.

Voyeurism can be described as “the practice of obtaining sexual gratification from observing others” which fits Playboyy in regards to cam work and the sharing of sexually explicit videos (often without the consent of all involved parties). However, the definition I’m most interested in is “the criminal act of surreptitiously viewing a person without their consent in a place where the person has a reasonable expectation of privacy (such as a home or public bathroom) or of using a device (such as a camera) for the purpose of such viewing.” Merriam-Webster

For fourth wall breaks, this video summarizes things pretty well:

youtube

Okay, with that out of the way, I want to get into how Playboyy utilizes fourth wall breaks and specific camera angles to bring the audience directly into the story and heighten the sense of voyeurism. We are as much a part of the mystery as the characters.

I won’t touch on every single instance of this in the series but a few of my favorite ones (thus far).

In the beginning of episode 2, we have Prom welcoming us to the Playboyy Lounge. The reason I say “us” is because he is addressing the viewer. We aren’t tailing some nameless, faceless person off the street; Prom’s facing the camera and we’re put in the position of a patron. We are the ones participating, looking at the sex workers who are available, being given the rundown. I think it’s a really fun way of establishing the location and preparing us for what’s in store at Playboyy Lounge in the future.

One of my absolute favorite scenes is in episode 6, where the university gang is talking about the best way to get all the suspects together, and the camera is hidden. It’s like the camera has been placed in a closet, left to capture whatever happens behind closed doors. We are given a glimpse into a private conversation that we should not be observing!

And then, the university boys all turn to the hidden camera - to us - and Nont says this:

Yes, he’s speaking to his friends but he’s also addressing the audience! We're riding along, anxiously awaiting what will be revealed next, passively watching as these characters go through difficult and terrible things. I think it’s a clever utilization of the fourth wall break that still ties into the show’s presentation overall (the characters, most specifically First, are often remarking about how their life isn’t a specific genre of movie or TV show. That’s another little fourth wall break in and of itself, but I digress).

On to another altered perspective moment that had me screaming: the interrogation scene in episode 12.

Nont and Captain are executing their half-baked torture plan and the camera is positioned above, lurking. We’re hiding up in the rafters, watching some very illegal activity going on that - again - we are not supposed to be seeing. We're a captive audience to some truly awful behavior but, hey, we shouldn't be here right? We've chosen to follow the story because we want to know what happens. We're voyeurs! There are also moments where the camera is low to the ground and nearest to a column, giving the illusion that we’re hiding. I just really love how these angles add so much extra tension!

The final fourth wall break I want to touch on is the rooftop party in episode 6 (you know, the one we sneakily listened to the planning for?). The uni boys (+Nont lol) do a toast and we’re included! They’re looking directly into the camera and raising their cups to us - we, the audience, are in on the plan and now we’re explicitly being invited to see how it unfolds.

There are more instances (and flavors) of voyeurism and fourth wall breaking but I don’t want this post to get crazy long. (Reiterating that I’m not a professional lol).

I really appreciate all that Playboyy does, not only narratively but stylistically. Each choice that’s made feels deliberate and enhances the story.

#cryptid's thoughts #playboyy #playboyy the series #playboyy meta #bl meta #bl series #thai bl #analysis

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inaconstantstateofchange · 1 month

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Bond!AU | Wyll & Ansur [Pt. 3]

Part One | Two

Wyll is slightly less surprised when he finds himself in the clearing again after closing his eye beside the smoldering cinders of his campfire. Such a thing happening twice is still circumstantial – albeit somewhat odd – but thrice? That makes a pattern, and Wyll’s life over the past year has increasingly depended on him taking note of those patterns.

He considers the space around him with more interest, now that he knows it to be something more than a mere dream. The pool draws the eye first, filling the center of the clearing as it does. He resists its allure, however, determined to finalize his surveillance before he allows himself to see if his little friend yet remains a part of this confounding dreamscape. The trees surrounding the clearing appear as solid and well-defined as the rest of the clearing, but as he makes toward them, they fade out in time with his steps. By the time he stands before them, they seem like nothing so much as the memory of trees — gray, wavering, and ephemeral.

Beyond them, in the formless fog, he hears the crashing of distant waves, and the furious shrieking of the gulls, songbirds of his youth. He swallows hard, the click of it catching in his throat. His good eye prickles, and his empty socket aches.

He turns away from the far-off call, trying to convince himself it does not make of him a coward. No longer so keen to unravel the mysteries of the dreamscape, he slumps to the ground in his ‘usual’ spot, against the rocks that have supported him twice before. He doesn’t imagine they will mind doing so again. Eager for a distraction, he looks for his little friend. After the last two meetings, he no longer expects to see it in the same form, watching solely for that tell-tale bronze.

He gazes into the pool for some time, inspecting it intently, and finding his breathing unconsciously matching the gentle lapping of the water. He settles into a state similar to what he imagined meditation must be like, when he heard it described as a child. He is aware of every splash and rustle before him, but every one that does not resolve itself in some new form of his friend is noted, then disregarded. Somehow, this sustained focus does not exhaust him — as he is certain it must, were he to attempt it upon waking. Instead, it feels almost rejuvenating, the aches of his body carried away along with the rest. The aching of his mind is not so easily disregarded, but he fancies it too, is somewhat soothed.

After a time, his attention is drawn to a portion of the pool, something about it sticking with him, rather than flowing through. He makes the decision – barely a thought, really – to trust his instincts, and keeps his attention focused upon it. Some minutes later, his patience is rewarded, as a tiny brown snout he had taken for a twig ‘til now pokes further out from the water, revealing dark eyes and a head striped with bronze. Below the water the coloration continues, muted but still visible, as the light reflects off of the angled patterns of its shell.

Wyll smiles helplessly down at the turtle, which cannot be any larger than the palm of his hand. “I hope you have avoided further mishaps, friend.”

The turtle turns its head to stare at him, and, for no reason he can clearly define, he perceives it to be disgruntled. He considers it for a moment, then owns that he does not greatly enjoy having his own blunders thrown back in his face — something the devil he is sworn to is all too happy to engage in, under the guise of “counsel”.

He bows his head to the little creature. “Apologies; that was ill-done of me. I meant only to wish you well, and inquire after your health. Although… I suppose you likely can’t talk, which means that is also quite rude—”

Turtles certainly can’t roll their eyes, but Wyll discovers that mysterious turtles one encounters in a dreamscape can manage a very convincing impression. With a gurgling huff, the little thing clambers its way onto the sun-warmed surface of a small rock, settling in to bask. Its head is still angled loosely in his direction, which he decides to treat as invitation enough. It clearly does not have any great trouble making its opinion known, no matter the limitations of its form.

Wyll has a fair few more stories under his belt now than he did when he first awoke in this clearing, and he shuffles through them in his mind, searching for the best of them to entertain his companion. If they are to meet only sparingly, as seems to be the case, then he will no doubt have plenty more at their next encounter.

Leaning back fully against the rock behind him, he settles upon his choice, and begins his tale.

“So this particular wizard – although those toffs out in Waterdeep would likely take umbrage with him claiming that title – had struck upon the brilliant idea of employing both a choker and a gargoyle as guards…”

#here you are have some more #bg3 #bg3 fic #wyll #wyll ravengard #ansur #bg3 ansur #bg3 spoilers #bg3 act 3 spoilers #bg3 au #my writing #wyll & ansur

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gretavanlace · 1 year

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Watching Over

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, surveillance, voyeurism, language, mention of unprotected sex and anal play, masturbation (m), dirty talk, brief dumification, etc.

Inspired by this anon…thank you, beautiful 💖

You hadn’t meant to be intrusive. You really hadn’t. Honest. You’re a firm believer in the right to privacy. You value yours greatly, and are explicitly mindful of the boundaries of others. Usually.

So, really, if the blame has to land somewhere, let it be with the security cameras strategically placed outside your home, as well as in.

Point the finger at the band’s management who suggested the surveillance to begin with, after several fans had shown up at the front door looking for Josh.

If you felt inclined, you could even fault Jake, as it was his nasty attitude and temper that had sent them all home from the studio before the day even had a chance to begin.

Still, you could play spin doctor all day long, and it wouldn’t change the truth of the matter…you could’ve closed the app and went about your day. Could have, but didn’t.

Your fingers are flying over the keyboard as you draw up a proposal your boss has deemed ‘of immediate importance’, the same as she’s labeled each and every proposal that has landed on your desk all week. Trouble is, most of them are still sitting, completed, in her inbox…she’s hardly given them a second glance.

Knee deep in an important document, that isn’t really important at all, your phone chirps, cheerfully notifying you that a camera in, or surrounding, your home has been activated by motion.

It’s irritating, really. They sound off so frequently. Most often due to a squirrel scurrying across the front lawn, or a garbage truck ambling down the road, massive tires vibrating the front porch. Josh normally has his phone, but rarely pays it any mind. Most often, it’s dead, or more than halfway there…so the camera monitoring, by default, falls to you.

You slide your thumb over the screen, unlock your phone, and tap the notification. It takes a few seconds of sweeping through various angles and rooms, but soon, you’ve hunted down the offender.

Josh is puttering about in the living room, already clad in his well worn sweats and slippers. He looks so cozy and soft, leaving you unable to do anything but admire him - seemingly so close, thanks to modern technology, but in reality, clear across town - you miss him. So what if it’s only been a few hours since you parted ways with a gentle kiss this morning.

Your gaze tracks the tiny, black and white version of him on your screen as he flips through the mail and waters the ficus that inhabits the far corner of the room. You love the leafy green splash of nature it lends to the space, but regularly forget to care for it. Thankfully, he remembers for you.

He speaks briefly to someone on the landline he insists on keeping, though it means he has to suffer through the occasional joke about being an antiquated grandpa. He tosses the phone onto the couch cushion once he has completed his call, and you resist the urge to scold him into resting it in its cradle where it belongs…he can’t hear you anyway.

It’s slightly intoxicating, this fly on the wall feeling…there’s a lazy summer storm of curiosity floating through your mind. How strange it is to observe someone whom you know so intimately this way. It’s toeing the violation of trust line, one might say. But Josh is an open book, and you know him well enough to know he wouldn’t mind you channeling Peeping Tom.

Work warms on the back burner in favor of observation, as he plucks his paperback off the coffee table where it is tented upside down to mark his place. You watch his lips move as he mumbles something to himself, leaving you to wonder what he’s said, as he stretches out for a lazy, late morning of leisure.

Longing to be with him, his feet in your lap as he quietly reads, you click your phone locked and set it aside…the sooner your tasks are completed, the sooner you can head home to him.

But, it doesn't take long for inquisitiveness to begin niggling at you once again. What is he up to? Still enjoying his book? Has he dozed off? Grown tired of reading in favor of flipping through mindless daytime television?

You shouldn’t, you know that; but you will, and you know that, too.

Your morals are present enough that you feel the nagging pull of guilt as you grab your phone, but they haven’t the strength to outgun that deliciously voyeuristic streak marching up front and center.

Dizzying heat seizes you when he returns to frame. This time with his pretty cock in hand rather than a book. He pumps it slowly up and down, in sync with your soft, shaking breaths, as if your lust is a clicking metronome keeping time for his fist.

You should look away. You know that. You know. You should close the app, pretend as if you haven’t seen anything. You should leave him to it.

Instead, you pop a single AirPod in and tap the tiny speaker waiting at the bottom left of the screen. His choked panting floats through your nervous system like a drug, sending your thighs squeezing together like you haven’t an ounce of shame or sense.

You’re aching with need far too rapidly…it’s as if you have an on switch that only he knows how to flip. The way he’s squirming under his own touch, his free hand shoving his sweats and boxer briefs down just far enough, holding them in place…like he was so desperate for it he couldn’t even be bothered to take them off.

What had gotten him so worked up to begin with, you wonder.

“Oh, fuck…” he whines. The delicacy of a sound chills you wantonly, and before you’ve even registered a plan solidifying in your head, you’ve risen to your feet…gaze sweeping across the office to find the other cubicles and desks empty, and your boss’s door shut tight. Lunchtime. You’ve been too wrapped up in Josh to notice.

Your fingers close around your office phone’s receiver on their own accord, listening to the drone of the ring in your ear while you stare down at your cell phone screen to spy on this perfect, unsuspecting man of yours.

His movement halts, a frown of great annoyance darkens his sunshiny face…but it’s short lived, replaced by a blissed out smile when he catches sight of your extension displayed on his phone.

“Hi, trouble.” He’s working hard to sound casual, and you bite your lip to ward away the smile he will surely hear in your tone.

“Hi.” You speak softly. Mostly because you are, unfortunately, at work, but also because this is the way you sound when the two of you are alone and rolling through the sheets. “You making magic, rockstar?”

He laughs breathily as you watch him tug loosely at himself. “Yeah, that was over before it began today. Jacob is an unrivaled drama queen.”

“Hmm.” You hum, delighting in his not so secret, secret. “So how are you dwindling down the hours until this atrocious forced parting of hearts comes to an end?”

This clandestine moment feels delicious. It melts in your mouth like sticky cotton candy until your teeth throb from the sweetness.

“Nothing productive.” He carries on twisting languidly along his twitching cock.

“Did you forget?” You taunt quietly, lending a mysterious edge to your question.

His movements pause as he thinks it over. Did you ask a favor? Give him an errand to run? A menial task to complete? “I’m sorry, baby.” He offers so sincerely your heart floods with tenderness. “I must’ve forgotten what you needed.”

“No.” You correct, barely audible now. “The cameras, Josh. Did you forget them?”

Time stands frozen still for a beat, and then, without a trace of shame or fluster, his eyes focus on the tiny camera mounted in the corner.

“Yes, it seems I did forget them. Are you watching me right now, my little eye in the sky?” He asks, and fuck, the confident need laced through his words sets loose a tingle up your straightened spine.

“Yes.” You breathe, wishing you were anywhere other than at your desk, confined within the excruciatingly dull walls of your cubicle.

“Have you been watching me all this time?” His voice is laced thick with strange emotion. It’s curiosity interwoven with a lovely, dirty accusation…he’s hoping you’ve been watching him. You can feel it. Well, he’s in luck, isn’t he?

“Yes.” You repeat breathlessly.

“Yes?” He repeats, your very own filth-ridden mockingbird. “Is that the only word you know, sweetheart? Oh, wait…” he pauses for drama’s sake. “You can’t say much else can you? At your desk, all prim and pretty, enjoying the show, are we?”

“Enjoying it very much.” You whisper, rising up to scan the room once more for good measure. “What were you thinking about?”

Unabashedly, he lifts his palm up and laps his silken tongue over it before reaching back down to stroke along his length, root to tip, over and over. “Isn’t it bad enough that you were spying on me when I thought I was alone? That you didn’t care about anything other than the fact that you wanted to watch me touch myself? And now you want to have a little peek inside my head, too?”

He doesn’t really care. Better still, he likes it. Very much. It’s there in his voice, and you can see it in the way he’s left himself so completely on display for you.

“You love it.” You whisper, calling him out on his terribly sexy bullshit. “Look at you, stretched out like a cat, showing off, loving on your pretty cock just for me. Now tell me what you were thinking about.”

A shaky grunt of a moan rumbles out of him…the sound makes you squirm in your seat, and how you long to shove your hand between your thighs, to join his party of one.

“Just revisiting a memory, baby.” He’s being purposefully cryptic as his breathing picks up and becomes ragged…working himself faster now, brow furrowed in pleasured concentration, lips slick and shining from licking them - a sex dripping habit of his when he’s really enjoying himself.

His eyes are burning up into the camera. “Come home, sweetheart. Say you’re sick. I’ll wait for you. Come home and sit on my cock, fuck it until you soak me and ruin the couch. We’ll buy a new one, twelve of ‘em. We’ll just fill up the whole damn room with couch after couch. Whatever you want, just come home and let me slip inside that warm, wet little cunt. So tight and sweet…want it so fucking bad.”

Your entire body is thrumming with searing, boiling hot need. You want to grab for your things and tear out of this god forsaken office - to speed home to him, where you belong. But wanting doesn’t make it so, and you are unfairly tethered to your responsibilities…

So instead, you repeat the question. “What were you thinking about? What memory was so nice and dirty that you had to get off to it?”

Throaty, rasping moans preface his confession. “The other night, right here on this couch. You were on top, but facing away from me. Do you remember?”

A small sound of confirmation sighs off your tongue as the memory takes shape in your mind.

“Yeah, you do.” His hips are rocking up and down quickly now, fucking his hand with increasing fervor. “And I was buried so deep in that perfect pussy…but where was my thumb?”

“Josh…” you couldn’t speak the words out loud right now even if you wanted to, for fear of being overheard.

“So sorry,” he taunts, all out of breath and needy with it. “You can’t risk anyone knowing what you’re like when I’ve got you right where you love to be…with my cock stuffed inside you, spoiling you, fucking you stupid. My dumb little cock drunk baby.”

You watch as he executes a particularly vigorous pull.

“You remember where my thumb was…and I was just going to touch you, but what did you say, hmm? What did my naughty little thing want?”

The wet glide of skin against skin fills the silence for a moment. You’d like to rest your head against the cool, smooth wood of your desk to weep tears of frustration…you want him so badly. Need him.

“You wanted it inside.” He’s close, you can hear it in each and every syllable…can see it in his movements, which are rapidly becoming unhinged. “You said ‘c’mon, Josh, put it inside, please. I want to feel full with you everywhere’. I think it was the please that got me. Asking for my thumb in your ass as politely as you might’ve asked me to pass the salt.”

“You like that?” You secret into the phone. “When I’m sweet about it? When I behave and use my manners?”

“Fuck, sweetheart.” His head tilts back against the throw pillow, tangling and frizzing his curls, showcasing his soft, flawless throat. “I’m almost there. You wanna watch?”

“Yeah.” It’s only a single word, a barely there sound, but the fiery ache pulsing low in your belly as you clench around nothing is present and clear as finely cut crystal.

“You want it so bad,” he groans, writhing around, pressing his heels into the armrest at his feet to ground himself. “I can hear it. You want to watch me cum? Wanna watch me make a mess of myself just for you?”

Your breathing kicks up as your thighs squeeze and grind together, trying anything to quell the pounding need between them, and that’s all the answer he seems to need.

“Fuck, baby…please…” what he’s begging for, you haven’t a clue, but you’d listen to that submissive edge that creeps in all day if you could.

“Come on…” the encouragement feathers out of you, soft as a breeze. “Do it. Let me see you cum pretty.”

“Watch me, sweetheart…” as if you could look away even if you felt inclined to do so. He is magnetic. “I’m gonna, baby…fuck, gonna cum…just for you. Watch me cum for you…”

He babbles on until frantic gasps and groans begin to pepper his monologue, culminating into one long growl of release that shakes off into a chorus of sobbing cries and gritty calls of your name like he’s singing to you. Your favorite obscene song, the hymn only you get to listen to. Evocative and atmospheric, perfect in its poignancy. Alluring, bewitching, and elegant somehow. He is all of those things. Fucking beautiful.

Finally spent, he rests back against the couch fluidly, his hand falling to the side, dripping milky white cum onto the hardwood flooring. If you were there, you might be tempted to lick it up, it seems such a waste.

He is first to speak, as you are still scrambling to find your elusive wits. “I could sleep for a week.” He confides lazily, gazing at the lens from which you gaze back, unseen.

“Well, at least one of us feels better.” You laugh softly. “I’m a wreck.”

“Good.” He smiles, a sleepy calm surrounding him like an aura. “Stay that way. I’ll take good care of you when you get home.”

Coworkers are trickling in now, finding their desks and infiltrating this quiet world you’ve gotten lost in with him…so you say your goodbyes and wish away the hours left on the clock.

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1americanconservative · 3 months

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@WarClandestine

Consider the timeline:

The Biden regime just deployed every asset to stop Trump from being on the ballot, and they failed.

Trump is projected to win. Now swamp rats want to pass a bill that would give Biden the power to control the flow of information on social media.

The Deep State are in desperation mode. They are looking for any angle to alter the calculus before November.

The only way they can get away with stealing the election, is if they cut out our tongues like they did last time. They have to regain their monopoly of the narrative and public perception.

They are coming for X. Make no mistake. You think they really care about China getting our data? They let China fly surveillance balloons over us without consequence.

They sell our State secrets to foreign adversaries. Hillary had State secrets on a server in her bathroom… Joe Biden had State secrets in his garage…

This is not about Tik Tok or China. This is about election interference and the power struggle to control the flow of information. Don’t take the bait. MAGA GOP should not be passing anything until Trump is back in office. All we have to do is maintain the status quo, hold our position, and Trump wins.

Hold the damn line.

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 10 months

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Johnny and Dora | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Gun use, mention of alcohol, not proofread

Author's note: This is basically the episode from Brooklyn 99 in season two where Amy and Jake get together. I'm fully aware that the BAU might not work on an identity theft case, but let's just pretend they do for the sake of this story, yeah?

Words: 4.078

Y/N wasn’t too sure how she’d ended up in this position. One minute she was trying to catch Brooklyn’s most prolific identity thief they had been chasing for days in New York, the next she had her co-worker pressed up against a tree with her lips on his.

It had all started when the BAU team was sent to Brooklyn, New York to investigate an identity theft that had been haunting Brooklyn for a couple months now. The team was working hard to find the man responsible for the crime, working every possible angle and trying to figure out the how and why before actually going en-route to catch the guy.

“Tonight, Augustine will be handing off the laptop to a buyer from China,” Detective Peralta told them, concluding his briefing to the BAU team.

Hotch nodded his head before turning to his team. “Reid, Y/L/N, I want you tailing Augustine until he makes the drop, then arrest him and the buyer.”

“Good call, though I suppose I could take Morgan,” Spencer objected with a light tone. “I’m sure Y/L/N has something better to do…”

“No, I don’t,” she replied, confused as to why he would say that.

“Really?” asked Spencer. “‘Cause I swore I overheard you saying to Prentiss you didn’t like… tailing… people…”

Y/N stared at him with an incredulous look. “You think I said that?”

“Word for word,” Spencer said with a slow nod of his head as though he was trying to convince no one but himself.

Y/N stared at the man in disbelief until Hotch cut in between the two. “All right, enough. Prentiss and Morgan will join them in a surveillance van.”

The detectives and the BAU team all dispersed. Y/N was determined to find out what was happening with Spencer. They had gotten along since the day she joined the team over a year ago. To say his sudden change of demeanor towards her confused her was an understatement.

“Okay, what did I do?” she asked, slamming the door of the breakroom shut so the two of them had some privacy. Spencer looked up from where he was making his coffee, confusion written in his eyes. “Why are you so bent on keeping me off this case?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer muttered as he turned back to his coffee.

Scoffing, y/n shook her head. “Come on, Spence. Is it because I finished your report for you last week? Because I was just trying to help you. I knew you wanted to leave early to call your mother.”

With a sigh, Spencer turned to look at the woman. “I don’t care about that. I appreciate you doing that.”

“Then what is it?”

Inhaling deeply as if to calm himself down, Spencer put down his hot coffee again and took a few tentative steps towards y/n. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep him from fidgeting so much. “The reason I didn’t want to work with you is–” he puffed out a nervous breath. “C-can you not look at me like that?” he asked, suddenly changing the topic.

Y/N was looking at him with interest, her head tilted ever so slightly, her eyes swimming with worry.

“Like what?”

“Never mind,” he grumbled and went back to his coffee.

“No, Spence. Tell me what’s going on so I can fix it. I hate having you mad at me.”

Taking another deep breath, Spencer’s eyes met y/n’s. “Fine… I just… Remember when you told me you’d never want to date any law enforcement?” Y/N nodded her head slowly, trying to understand what he was saying. “It kinda… It kinda bummed me out?”

“What?” The one-worded question came out in a soft whisper.

“I was kind of thinking about asking you out…”

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat. “Oh… Okay…” she brought out, not really sure what else to tell him.

“But I know that that’s not what you want, and I totally get it…”

“Spence…” y/n heaved in a deep breath. “This is weird… And the whole reason for me not dating anyone in the field is so it wouldn’t be weird at work, you know?”

Spencer offered her a soft smile. “Okay, then just– let’s make it not weird, okay? This is a case; we work cases together all the time, and we’re really good at it, so, you know, we’re professionals.”

“That’s all I want,” y/n responded steadfastly. “For us to be professional.”

Nodding his head, Spencer reached for his coffee again and as he passed y/n, he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.

Later that day, Spencer, y/n, Derek and Emily followed behind Augustine in their surveillance van. The bright red car they’d been following brought them to a fancy-looking restaurant.

Confused, y/n turned to her co-workers. “Why’s he getting out here?” she asked. “I thought that detective told us he was going to be dropping it off at the park?”

“Maybe he’s having dinner with his sidepiece first,” Emily countered.

Y/N’s eyes landed on the object in Augustine’s hand. “He’s got the laptop with him,” she told them. “We should just arrest him right here.”

“No,” Spencer replied. “The buyer’s the bigger collar. We gotta follow him in and wait for the handoff.”

Nodding her head, y/n moved to open the door, only for Derek to stop her. “You can’t go in like that. You look like FBI.”

“Right, you’re right,” y/n whispered as she shook off her blazer and unbuttoned her shirt a little further. “How’s that?” she asked Spencer, who was sitting next to her. A blush fanned his cheeks and reached the tips of his ears as he turned away from her.

“I don’t know,” he stuttered.

Emily chuckled at Spencer’s nervous behavior while Derek shook off his leather jacket. “Here, wear this,” Derek said and handed the black piece of clothing to her. Surprisingly, Derek’s jacket fit her very well.

Once the jacket was hanging off her shoulders, she turned to Spencer and untied his tie. “What are you doing?” he asked, nervously while she lifted his tie over his head and handed it to Emily.

“For heaven’s sake, Spence, just trust me,” she all but grumbled and unbuttoned a couple of his buttons too. “All right, think we’re good to go.”

The two of them walked inside the restaurant, scanning the place for the suspect. “Did you know that restaurants are germ-infected? Even the tables are germ-hotspots, especially during rush-hours when the staff is more focused on giving peop–”

“Spence,” y/n nudged him to shut him up.

“Right, sorry,” he whispered. “Do you have eyes on–”

Y/N grabbed his arm and cleared her throat. Once Spencer’s eyes landed on who she had seen, he smiled politely. “The hostess stand,” he finished his sentence. “Hi. Table for two, please.”

The suspect and his girlfriend were right in front of him, talking to the hostess.

“Oh, I’m sorry, there’s nothing available. We’re totally booked up,” the woman replied.

Knowing they weren’t going to get in unless they had a really good reason for the woman to make an exception. Without thinking twice about it, she grabbed Spencer’s bicep and leaned in closer to him. “Oh, that’s horrible. Tonight’s a really big night for us. Johnny and I just got engaged and this is where we had our first date,” she said dreamily.

Spencer looked down at her for a moment in surprise. Over the years of having known her, he’d wanted her to say something along those lines for a very long time. While she was oblivious to his little crush, the rest of their co-workers weren’t, which is why it was always them two who got paired up to do stuff like this.

“Oh, yeah, it would mean so much to Dora and me…” Spencer chimed in, jumping on the idea immediately. “I-I would’ve made reservations, but I didn’t know if she was going to say yes…”

“Aww, I love how nervous you were, you little goose,” she cooed before leaning up and kissing his cheek, catching the man completely off guard.

The look he gave her was one of surprise mixed with confusion. He had no clue what was happening.

“You two are just the cutest,” the hostess said with a hand over her heart. “I’m sure we can find room for two young lovers.”

It was the way she said it that made the butterflies in her stomach well up. Aside from herself, no one had ever even thought about them being lovers, let alone called them it.

“Yeah,” Spencer croaked. “We are two lovers… Together… In beds…”

“Okay,” she whispered, trying to keep her composure.

The hostess asked them to follow her to the waiting area and told them they just needed a moment to free up a table for them. As y/n and Spencer stood together at the high table, she couldn’t help but glance over at him. He looked very handsome tonight. Having decided to discard his tie and loosen up a couple of buttons was a good call. She couldn’t deny that it did look very good on him.

“Sorry about springing that engagement stuff on you,” y/n told him.

Spencer shook his head. “No, no, no. That was great. It’s what’s got us in here.” He inhaled sharply before jokingly adding, “The cheek-kiss was a bit much though. And wet.”

Smirking, y/n tilted her head a little. “What can I tell you? Dora’s sloppy.”

Both of them chuckled but before either could add anything else, the hostess reappeared at their table. “All right, your table is ready. You can follow me.”

They nodded their heads and followed behind the woman. “Okay, we can go back to being Spencer and y/n on the lookout for the suspect,” Spencer muttered, almost glad he didn’t have to sit through an entire dinner pretending he was madly in love with her as it wouldn’t even be pretending on his part. It would kill him knowing that all of it would be over when the case was done.

“All right, there you go,” the hostess said, placing down the menus on their table. When the couple co-workers looked up, they realized they had gotten a table right next to the suspect and his date.

The girlfriend gasped as she turned to y/n and Spencer. “You’re the couple that just got engaged.”

“That’s us!” Spencer exclaimed as he reached for y/n’s hand. “Johnny and Dora,” he said, holding up your intertwined hands. “Definitely a couple…”

Y/N and Spencer took their seats, both of them chuckling nervously. Augustine and his girlfriend even sprung them champagne and oysters to celebrate their fake engagement.

“Wow, champagne and oysters,” y/n said with a sarcastic tone. “You really shouldn’t have, guys.”

“Well, it’s a special night,” said Augustine. “So when did you guys meet?”

Not having practiced any of this, the two lovebirds weren’t quite in sync with their backstory. “Last year,” y/n responded while Spencer went for “Two years ago.”

Upon seeing the confused looks of Augustine and his companion, y/n chuckled. “We first met two years ago but we don’t count it because…”

“I was dating a super smart scientist,” Spencer finished her sentence.

“And I was dating the bassist of an up-and-coming Brooklyn-based band,” y/n continued the lie.

“Anyways, about a year ago, we bumped into each other again in a bar and…” Spencer turned to y/n with a soft look on his face. “We haven’t been able to keep our hands off each other since.”

Y/N hummed, unable to wipe the smile on her face.

Augustine’s girl propped her head up on her hand, her elbow resting on the table. “So, how did you know she was the one?” she asked Spencer dreamily.

Sighing, Spencer turned back to his fake-fiancée. “I’d love to answer that,” he said, surprising y/n a little. She was curious to hear what he was going to come up with. “Um, you know, just whenever I look at her face… and the… attached physique,” he answered a little awkwardly as though he didn’t want to say what he actually thought of her.

“And you?” the girl asked y/n.

Y/N’s eyes locked with Spencer’s and she couldn’t help but smile as her insides melted at the sight of his honeycomb eyes. “He’s the smartest guy I know and … he makes me laugh,” she responded honestly.

“And, you know,” Spencer chimed in again, looking at the other couple. “There’s really no one else’s opinion who I care about more than hers, so…” When he looked back up at Y/N, he saw something in her eyes that he had never seen before and Spencer had studied those beautiful eyes before, remembering every detail about it thanks to his eidetic memory.

“Okay, so enough chit-chat, let’s see the ring!”

Panicking a little, y/n moved the ring from her ring finger on the right side to to one on the left before showing her hand to the woman. The ring was one she had gotten from her grandma when she had graduated from the academy. Y/N had always worn it as a token of good luck. It was the thing that kept her safe.

The girl gasped. “It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed as she studied it. The band looked like twigs from the rose bushes in her grandmother’s garden with a small diamond that presented the rose. It reminded y/n of the days she’d spent at her grandparents’ house and helped her grandma with the rose bushes.

“When I saw this ring, I knew I had to get it for her as it reminded me of the rose bushes her grandma had in her garden. Whenever Dora talks about spending time with her grandma in the garden, her eyes light up like a child’s on Christmas Eve and I just knew…” Spencer explained and though y/n knew in the back of her mind that all of this was just a ruse, she couldn’t help but turn into mush on the inside.

How y/n survived the entire dinner without turning into a puddle, she didn’t know, but she somehow managed to get through to dessert.

“Can you get the car from the valet, babe?” Augustine said to his girlfriend, handing her the keys. “I’m gonna go in the back and say hi to the chef.” Spencer and y/n exchanged glances when they noticed Augustine reaching for the laptop.

“Good luck on your wedding, guys,” the girl said to them. “Oh, have fun on your honeymoon!”

“We will,” Spencer replied. “We’re going to Waco, Texas,” he said a little too excitedly.

The girl looked at him for a moment before chuckling, “Huh, okay. Bye!”

“Bye,” y/n greeted, giving her a wave that she couldn’t even see anymore, before turning to Spencer. “Waco, Texas?”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer hissed. “It just slipped out.”

Shaking her head, y/n put the napkin down on her half-eaten dessert before scraping her chair back. “Let’s go, Augustine’s making the drop.”

Spencer nodded and followed y/n to the kitchen where they found Augustine with the chef. “Look, there’s the buyer,” y/n pointed out, but then got confused when Augustine didn’t hand over the laptop. “Or he’s just actually saying hi to the chef?”

As Augustine turned, his eyes landed on the couple near the door. “Oh, no. He’s seen us,” Spencer whispered and before he could properly think twice about it, he cupped y/n’s cheeks and kissed her on the lips.

Confused and surprised, y/n wasn’t too sure what to do but then decided to follow along and melted into the kiss. His lips somehow slotted perfectly with hers and the tingle in the pit of her stomach felt natural.

“Excuse me,” Augustine’s voice interrupted them.

“Oh, sorry,” Spencer apologized. “We were just looking for a place to, uh…”

A little groggy from that spine-tingling kiss, y/n finished Spencer’s sentence while holding onto him for dear life. “Boink…”

“Yep. Boink…” Spencer agreed. “That’s my preferred term for it as well.”

Y/N nodded her head to try and sell the point further. “I get it,” Augustine then said. “Newly engaged kids. Enjoy.”

The couple watched as Augustine was out of sight before springing apart. “Good. Good, good, good, good,” Spencer mumbled, trying to convince himself. We kept our cover intact. Nice work.”

“Quick professional thinking out there, Reid. Very quick. Very professional,” y/n rambled, not entirely thinking straight just yet.

Trying to keep up his poise and to remind himself that they are, in fact, working, Spencer held out his hand for her to shake, which she quickly did. “Agent,” he said ceremonially.

“Doctor,” y/n responded before the two of them headed out of the restaurant.

As the couple joined their co-workers in the van again, they felt a little awkward. Neither of them was saying anything. Not to each other. Not to Emily and Derek. The two at the front found it slightly weird that Spencer wasn’t spewing facts and y/n wasn’t singing along to one of her favorite songs that was playing on the radio.

“Okay, you’re being weird,” Derek pointed out. “What happened?”

“Spencer and I kissed,” y/n responded with a roll of her eyes.

“WHAT?!” Emily and Derek exclaimed simultaneously.

“It was just to keep our cover from being blown,” Spencer responded. “We didn’t have a choice.”

“Tell me everything!” Emily ordered, overly excited.

Y/N shook her head. “Em, there’s nothing to tell, okay? It was for work. It was nothing.” She repeated the words in her head to convince herself that it was indeed nothing. That what she felt when Spencer’s lips were on hers was just a reaction to someone kissing her. That it wasn’t because it was Spencer kissing her.

“Yeah, who cares about a kiss? Call me when you grab each other’s asses,” Derek chimed in. “He’s pulling over,” he then said when the red car in front of them had his blinker on.

“Nothing like that is gonna happen, okay?” Spencer said before citing some facts about how in theater, the leads of the play almost never fall in love with one another and that it always just stays on-stage.

“Guys, it’s not a handout,” Derek informed them as they watched Augustine drop off the case, cutting Spencer’s fact-spewing short. “It’s a drop-off.”

“Okay,” y/n said. “Em, you and Derek follow Augustine.”

“Right, and you two, follow your hearts,” Emily added, causing y/n to roll her eyes.

“No, we’re gonna stay with the package.”

Y/N and Spencer got out of the car and hid behind a tree to keep an eye out on the laptop case. The air was chilly for a summer evening, so y/n was glad she was still wearing Derek’s jacket.

Spencer turned to y/n. “We’re cool, right?”

“Yeah, totally,” y/n answered determinedly. “We’re fine.”

“Good,” Spencer nodded. “You know, I’m actually quite hungry. I never really ended up eating anything at that fancy restaurant.”

“Same. You know what I’m gonna get when I get to the hotel?” she asked with a grin.

Spencer nodded his head. “Yeah, you’re gonna order Burger King and you’re gonna get the Crispy Chicken burger with cheesy chili fries, onion rings and a grape Sprite,” he summed up without hesitation. The fact that he’d remembered her exact order from Burger King surprised her and surprisingly also turned her on a little bit.

“That’s exactly what I’m gonna get…” she mumbled, trying to shake off the feeling.

While Spencer went on a ramble about what he was going to eat, y/n was distracted by the man a few feet away from them, closer to the package. She wasn’t paying much attention to anything Spencer was saying as she was trying to determine whether or not that was their UnSub.

“Spence,” y/n tried to cut him off, but he kept on going with some facts about the restaurant he always went to. “Spence, he’s looking at us…” Before Spencer could turn his head to look at whatever y/n was looking at, she had already grabbed his face and brought his lips to hers, pressing him against the tree.

Once again ignoring the feeling in the pit of her stomach, y/n opened an eye to watch the buyer walk off with the laptop in hand. She detached herself from Spencer and reached for her gun, stopping the guy in his tracks.

“FBI! Freeze! We are co-workers!” she yelled, mostly to remind herself.

“You’re under arrest!” Spencer joined in, pointing his gun at the man, too. “This is a work event!”

Later that night, y/n found herself in her hotel room, pacing the floor with her crispy chicken burger getting colder and colder with every minute she didn’t touch it. She couldn’t stop her brain from rethinking everything that had happened that day. Every time she remembered the kiss with Spencer, her insides tingled and her heart skipped several beats.

None of this made sense. She had been able to go about her days for the last year without thinking about Spencer this way. The thought had crept up on her once or twice, but she had always managed to shake it off. Why was this time so different?

Before she could rethink everything, a knock on her door caused her to snap out of it. She secretly prayed it was JJ or Emily, just so she could rehash the whole thing and get everything off her chest. Though when she opened the door, she didn’t find JJ nor Emily there, but instead she was looking into those beautiful honey eyes that had melted her insides mere hours ago.

“Spencer, I–”

“Can I come in?” he asked, not allowing her to finish her sentence. Nodding, y/n stepped aside and let him in, closing the door right after. “A lot has happened today, huh?” he asked, wringing his hands in nervousness.

“Yeah, I-I guess so…”

Spencer sighed as he let go of his hands and stepped closer to y/n. “Look, y/n, I don’t want anything to get weird between us, okay? I understand why you don’t wanna date anyone in the field and I respect that. So, can we just forget today happened?”

Going over her options, y/n’s mind skidded back and forth between every kiss and every word they had shared today. She could either ignore everything she had felt today and agree with him, forgetting about it all. Or she could take the plunge and try to figure it out with him.

“I don’t think I can, Spencer,” she whispered.

Spencer’s head tilted slightly as his brows furrowed in confusion. “Wh-what do you mean? I–”

Before he could finish his sentence, y/n took two long strides towards him and cupped his cheeks, much like she had done before in the park, and kissed him deeply. At first, Spencer wasn’t quite sure what was happening, but he quickly melted into her body, grabbing her by the waist to pull her closer.

“Y/N!” Emily’s voice sounded before they heard the knock on her door. “Can we go out for some drinks?!”

Y/N looked up at Spencer and offered him a soft smile. “I’ll be right down! Order a Chardonnay for me, will you?”

The two of them waited until they heard the footsteps of their co-worker recede before heading out the door together. Neither of them said anything. Neither of them needed to, either. They knew what they felt for one another was real and that they needed to figure something out, but that was not going to happen tonight.

But whatever they would figure out, they would have to thank Johnny and Dora for pushing them this far.

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty @littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeee @unnowhatthisistbh @Jassy122

#spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds

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scifigeneration · 7 months

Text

An X-Files expert on the show’s enduring appeal – 30 years on

by Bethan Jones, Research Associate at the University of York

On September 10 1993 the pilot episode of The X-Files aired. Thirty years later to the day, I was at a convention centre in Minneapolis with 500 other fans and the show’s creator, Chris Carter, celebrating its legacy.

Ostensibly a show about aliens, The X-Files swiftly became part of the cultural lexicon and remains there to this day. In part its success was down to the chemistry of its two leads – David Duchovny, who played FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder and Gillian Anderson, who played FBI Special Agent Dana Scully. After all, it was the X-Files fandom that invented the term “shipping” (rooting for characters to get together romantically).

But, as I argue in my new book, The Truth Is Still Out There: Thirty Years of The X-Files, what really made the series successful was its ability to tap into contemporary cultural moments and ask us to really think about the times we’re living in.

When the series began in 1993, the US was still grappling with the effects of Watergate and the Vietnam war, but concerns were also rising about the approaching millennium and the economic and cultural divisions within US society. It also coincided with Bill Clinton becoming president – marking the end of more than a decade of Republican leadership.

It’s little surprise that fears about immigration, globalisation, national identity and technology emerged and were adopted – and sometimes foreshadowed – by The X-Files’ writers. Several episodes throughout the first nine seasons dealt with artificial technology, for example, and Eve, an episode in season one about clones, came four years before the birth of Dolly the Sheep.

Critical theorist Douglas Kellner argued in 1994 that The X-Files “generated distrust toward established authority, representing institutions of government and the established order as highly flawed, even complicit in the worst crimes and evil imaginable”. Though I’d argue it was less that the show generated this distrust and more that it leveraged the growing number of reports about the government’s secretive activities to inspire its storylines.

As the public became more aware of the government’s role in – and surveillance of – public life, so too The X-Files considered the ways in which technology could be used as a means of control.

In the season three episode Wetwired, for example, a device attached to a telephone pole emits signals that tap into people’s paranoid delusions and lead them to kill. And in the season six episode, SR 819, a character’s circulatory system fails because he has been infected with nanotechnology controlled by a remote device belonging to a shadow government.

These themes reflected growing concerns about government agencies using technology to both spy on and influence the public.

The X-Files’ enduring appeal

During my X-Files research, carried out with viewers after a revival was announced in 2015, it became clear that the show has remained part of the cultural lexicon. As one fan explained: “The cultural context of conspiracy theories has changed since the beginning of X-Files. Nowadays, every pseudoscience documentary uses similar soundtrack and narrative.”

Of course, the X-Files didn’t invent conspiracy theories, but as one of the show’s writers and producers, Jim Wong, points out, it did “tap into something that was more or less hidden in the beginning when we were doing it”.

youtube

The focus on the rise of the alt-right, disinformation and fake news in seasons 10 and 11 seemed like a logical angle from which to approach the changing cultural context the revival came into. Carter and his co-writers dove straight in to what Guardian critic Mark Lawson calls “a new era of governmental paranoia and public scepticism”, fuelled by the 2008 financial crisis, the fall out of the war on terror and scores of political scandals.

Season 10 saw the introduction of a right-wing internet talk show host who argues that 9/11 was a “false flag operation” and that the mainstream liberal media lie to Americans about life, liberty and the right to bear arms. The parallels to conspiracy theorists like Alex Jones and Glenn Beck were obvious.

Carter’s incorporation of topics like surveillance, governments’ misuse of power and methods of social control meant that seasons ten and 11 were very much situated in the contemporary moment. This is perhaps most obvious in the season 11 episode, The Lost Art of Forehead Sweat, which deals with the disinformation of the Trump era head on. The episode’s protagonist, Dr. They, tells Mulder that “no one can tell the difference anymore between what’s real and what’s fake”.

While The X-Files’ search for the truth in the 1990s may have ultimately been a philosophical endeavour, in the 21st century it is a commentary on how emotion and belief can be more influential than objective facts.

Watching the show again while researching my book, I was struck by how it was dated predominantly by its lack of technology, rather than the ideas it expresses. In the second season episode Ascension, Mulder pulls a phone book off a shelf in his search for Scully – now we’d use Google. But in other aspects the show remains as relevant today as it was in the 1990s, encouraging us to think about the big questions relating to faith, authority and truth.

#science fiction and fantasy #science fiction #sci fi television #the x files #x files #sci fi tv #featured #Youtube

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angel-of-the-moons · 10 days

Note

so so sorry to invade your inbox again but I have another new khonshu thot to share with you🤭

imagine that he starts to grasp the back of your neck randomly, especially while you’re out moon knighting and doing surveillance or smth

his hands are big enough that they just about envelope your entire neck but I digress

and you never question it, thinking it’s just his usual possessiveness at play or maybe wanting to remind you he’s there (or vice versa)—or, you think outlandishly, maybe he likes to feel your heartbeat under his fingertips (which always quickens when he does this, much to your chagrin)

you don’t really get it. not until he bends you over the end of your bed, anyway, pushing his knee between your thighs and wedging your ass up against his hips while he grabs you by the nape of the neck and presses your face into the mattress.

after that, there’s the added stimulus of being keenly reminded each time of just how much he likes to breathe for you—controlling just how much air is able to enter your lungs, enhancing every sensation with the heady dizziness that accompanies it, intensifying the inevitable pleasure that he draws from you as he plays your body like the instrument he’s long since memorized

anyways yeah khonshu with a breath play kink and a particular penchant for how pretty he thinks your neck is—especially with his hand wrapped around it like a necklace👀

BACK AGAIN FEEDING MY STARVING BRAINWORM I SEE

Are you trying to kill me? Because

You just know the old man also wants people to know how well he's rearranging your guts, too. Wants them to know that you're his. You're in an apartment with shitty walls, or a cheap motel, like--

NSFW ASF BELOW THE CUT, MINORS DNI

Khonshu x Fem!MK!Reader blurb

Your back arches off the mattress, the springs squeaking in protest as your body's weight is forced down by the massive hand pushing your head down into the blankets; thick fingers wrapped snugly around the back of your neck, the heavy beat of your pulse echoing through his fingertips.

Your air had been all but cut off, only coming back to you fully in short, harsh gasps punctuated by every hard thrust of his hips into yours, soft linen grazing your sweaty skin.

The repeated cut-off of oxygen in time with every throb in your womb had your vision going starry with every roll of his hips against yours.

You bite so hard into your blankets you thought your teeth tore holes into them, by now.

The sound of his cock slipping in and out of you effortlessly was deafening in your ears, the sinful slap of flesh just barely beneath that, making you choke out a broken moan.

"Now, now..." His voice says, just barely managing to keep the tone of pleasure out of his words as his fingers eased the pressure from your neck, letting blissful oxygen flood back into your lungs, your spotty vision returning.

"That's better, isn't it?" He crooned.

"Y-you..." You groaned, biting your lip when one of the thumping veins in his shaft grazed deliciously against the one perfect spot inside of you.

"Do not be quiet now, little dove." Khonshu hissed, thrusting into you so sharply you couldn't help but let out a loud yelp.

You could just barely hear your neighbor's tv droning through the shitty drywall.

"Let them hear you." He sighed blissfully, pulling back almost entirely, just leaving the tip of him resting inside of you long enough to make you ache for him to fill you once more.

"I control this body." He gave your throat another squeeze, making your air wheeze from your throat pitifully and holding it before he released you again, "You do as I command."

Khonshu then snapped his hips back against you, filing that empty void in your depths once again, watching with tainted pleasure at how you buried your face into your blankets to muffle your sweet, ambrosial voice.

His hand went from around your neck, to fisting in your hair, yanking your head back and making you bend your spine at an almost painful angle as he roughly fucks into you again; this time your mouth was uncovered, your moan uninhibited.

"Yeesss... that's it." He growled, the weathered bone of his beak grazing your shoulder as he pulls you back to meet each of his thrusts, your fists knotting in your blanket.

You couldn't help but hiccup, another cry coming from you as his grip bruised the soft skin on your hip, your ears flaming hot with embarrassment as someone in the room next to you pounds on the wall for you to keep it down.

Khonshu chuckled darkly, keeping his tight grip on the soft locks of your hair as he continued to push each sweet sound from between your plush lips; the stinging of your scalp just adding more fuel to the proverbial fire he had ignited inside of you.

"Let them know who you belong to, pet."

#🌙 answered #moon knight #khonshu x reader #khonshu x you #moon knight khonshu #khonshu #khonshu smut #khonsu

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oohnotvery · 5 months

Text

Throwing Good After Bad (Chapter 1)

Mulder

Mulder glances warily at the two agents sitting beside him and Scully. He’s never met nor seen them before, or if he has, they didn’t leave much of an impression.

Kersh’s office is large, but the chairs are squished together so closely that Scully’s thigh is practically touching his. He doesn’t mind it at all. Any contact he gets with her these days is welcome. Ever since Diana Fowley and Jeffrey Spender stole the basement office from them, it’s been a rare thing to get up close in her personal space.

The other agents seem as restless as he does. It’s hard to study them from the angle he’s at, but he caught a glimpse when they walked in the room. The man is tall, probably taller than he is, with thick, black hair and dark brown eyes. He’s wearing a polo shirt tucked into khakis and Mulder glances warily at the man’s muscular, olive-toned forearms, which press annoyingly into Scully’s slight frame.

The woman is pretty and waifish, with light brown hair and light eyes. He notes a smattering of freckles across her cheeks that makes her look young, but it doesn’t color his impression of her. Scully used to look that young, and she’s easily the toughest thing in the room.

Assistant Director Alvin Kersh enters the office abruptly and Mulder finds himself the last person to stand and greet their chief.

“Agents,” Kersh says with a wave of his hand, dismissing them back into their seats. Mulder lounges back in his chair, wondering what kind of tongue-lashing they’re about to receive today, and how these two pretty people have gotten roped into the same.

Beside him, he can feel Scully’s tense, perfect posture and it irks him slightly how much respect she has even for authority figures like Kersh. He wishes she’d shown him just an ounce of disrespect, just every now and again.

“I’ve called the four of you here today for a special assignment,” the boss explains quickly. Good, getting straight to the point. “The four of you—Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, Agents Joseph Hartman and Lydia Scarboro—will be going undercover together starting next week.”

Mulder sits up in his chair. He’s not sure about the other two agents on the case, but going undercover with Scully sounds interesting. At least it’s a break from the bullshit manure investigations they’ve been stuck with for the past few months.

Kersh pulls up a binder on his desk and rifles through it for a moment.

“The four of you were picked as appropriate candidates to pose as two sets of married couples taking a shared vacation,” he explains tersely. Scully glances quickly at Mulder and he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. He feels a thrill even as she rolls her eyes and turns her attention back to Kersh.

“Details, boss man?” Mulder asks. Scully shoots him a warning look and Kersh narrows his eyebrows.

“As I was just about to explain, Agent Mulder,” the boss continues, “there is a community in northwestern Washington State that we suspect is playing host to ritual sacrifices.” He pauses for effect. “Human sacrifices.”

Mulder perks up a bit and can feel the tension radiating off of Scully, telling him to cool his jets. But this sounds like an X-File, and he can’t help but be excited.

“Your duties will include surveillance only. You will not live inside the community as it is a closed community that we cannot infiltrate in the amount of time we have.”

“The amount of time we have, Sir?” Scully asks.

Kersh doesn’t seem to mind her interruption. Perfect little teacher’s pet. “The Justice Department is clocking the sacrifices as happening during every full moon,” he explains.

“That’s in just thirteen days,” Mulder offers, and even though it’s true, Kersh looks annoyed.

“As Agent Mulder has explained, that’s less than two weeks from now, so we have to move fast.” Kersh studies them closely. “You’ll be staying in two separate cabins on a piece of property adjoining the community. The community operates the campsite as part of their revenue flow and monitors it closely. You’ll have immediate and frequent contact with certain members of the group. Your job,” he emphasizes, “is surveillance only. We want to understand when, how, why, and where the sacrifices are taking place. We want a list of previous victims and perpetrators. Remember, agents. Right now, we’re just operating on a suspicion without any evidence. That is not enough for probable cause. Bring back the evidence, and we’ll perform a raid.”

Mulder bites his tongue just as Scully speaks. “And if we witness preparations for the sacrifice, Sir? Then we can intervene?”

“No, agents.” Kersh shakes his head vehemently. “You do so at risk to not just your job but your personal safety. We have a professional ops team that we’ll call in once we have the proper information available to us. We have reason to suspect this community is armed and dangerous. I forbid you from intervening.”

Mulder swallows. Like hell.

Kersh must read his expression because he stands. “If that isn’t enough to convince you of non-intervention, then hear this: the community we are surveilling lives on an island between Seattle and Vancouver, Canada. The territory has been long-disputed by the United States and Canadian governments. If we misstep by even an inch, agents, you and the Bureau will face severe consequences not just from our Justice Department, but from Canada’s as well.” His lips curl into a grin as he stares at Mulder. “And I’m not sure I’m feeling benevolent enough to free you from Canadian prison, Agent Mulder.”

He rolls his eyes angrily and hears the other agents stifling laughs. Scully remains stock still, the portrait of perfection. When will this damn meeting be over?

“You leave in twenty-four hours. My assistant will fill you in on the details and will get you equipped with the information and briefing you need.” He looks like he’s about to dismiss them and everyone starts to rise.

“Oh, and agents?” he says, glancing up from the binder he’s holding. Everyone sits back down. “Another detail.”

Mulder twitches in his seat, feeling restless. He can’t wait to get his hands on the briefing and dive into it with Scully. It’s been way too long since something interesting fed his brain.

Kersh’s face takes on a look of utter glee, and that’s when Mulder starts to feel nervous for the first time. Scully must sense it too because her fists curl into tight little balls.

“I mentioned you would be working undercover as married couples,” he starts. Mulder’s knee starts bouncing. He senses something is off. “The coupling assignment is as follows: Joseph Hartman, you are assigned to Dana Scully. Lydia Scarboro, you are assigned to Fox Mulder.”

Mulder freezes, all the blood leaving his face.

Kersh smiles at their horrified expressions. “That will be all.”

#msr #msr fanfic #txf #x files #dana scully #mulder x scully #the x files #fox mulder #x files fanfic #xfiles fanfic

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deliciouskeys · 8 months

Text

@cozycornerkinktober's prompt #7: DIY P*rn

Documentary (Butchlander)

@xieyaohuan expressed interest in my take on DIY P*rn. The verdict: I think it's hilarious and don't know what I'm doing. They're in an established relationship here, I'm not going to even bother explaining how or why for a ficlet. Warnings: rated E, HL being HL. Maybe I don't have to censor p*rn, but I'm not taking any chances, Tumblr. AO3 link.

Butcher didn’t really know what he was getting into when he agreed to have sex in Homelander’s apartment. He should have known. The decor was creepy enough but the mirrors, the fucking panoramic mirrors, should have clued him in that his sex partner was insane. Not just in the drunk-with-power-and-fine-with-harming-people-insane sense. The let’s-sit-and-watch-a-play-by-play-of-our-previous-sex-session brand of insane.

The sick cunt can’t seem to wrap his mind around people not wanting to be filmed without consent. Or not wanting the sextape played on several large screens, with the volume cranked up, bass boosted, which is the scene Butcher walks into when he strolls out of the shower.

“Why the hell are you watching this?!” Butcher immediately tries to snatch the remote off the big ugly leather sofa but Homelander’s hand puts it out of reach faster. The cunt gives him a brief glare.

“I want to relive it.”

Butcher slumps down on the sofa, the bath towel still wrapped around his waist, and watches in spite of himself. It’s an aerial view of them getting ready, undressing, Homelander lying back and hooking his hands around his inner knees. He clearly glances up at the camera.

“Okay, so there’s a camera behind your ceiling mirror,” Butcher says, grimacing as he distinctly hears lube being squirted into his palm although you can’t see much more than the top of his head. “But where the fuck is the sound getting recorded from?”

“What do you mean?” Homelander asks, but he doesn’t tear his eyes off the screen where Butcher has now undressed and slowly positioned himself between Homelander’s legs. “There’s a couple of microphones in my bedroom. On the nightstand and on the wall.”

“So you use surveillance equipment to record sex sessions? You didn’t think to ask me before we started?”

Homelander shrugs. “I don’t understand what your problem is. The only people who have access to this are me and you.”

“Until your cloud account is hacked.” Butcher scoffs. “And I’m sure everyone and their mother in Vought Analytics can watch this too. Probably watching it right now.”

Suddenly the camera angle shifts and it’s a side view of the proceedings.

“How many cameras are there? One behind each mirror or something? And when the fuck did you have time to edit this footage together? Were you up all night working on this?”

Homelander scoffs and shrugs his shoulders dismissively. “This isn’t Dawn of the Seven editing here. I just took the best angles. Not like it took me hours to do it.”

It’s not clear what Homelander is getting out of watching this, because he’s fully dressed in uniform and definitely not touching himself. He might as well be watching a documentary.

Despite his disgust at the entire thing, Butcher’s eyes keep being drawn to the screen. It is interesting to see himself fuck from the side view. The Homelander onscreen makes breathy little lewd noises at every thrust, tossing his head side to side. It looked random yesterday, but now Butcher realizes he’s vamping for the cameras that only he knows are there. Butcher winces when he sees his screen self grab hold of Homelander’s neck. It’s not an action that can harm the supe but it’s plain to see that Butcher enjoys doing violent-looking things to the man underneath him.

“We look good,” Homelander says, beaming, wholly unperturbed by the fact that his partner fantasizes about throttling him, apparently just taken with the aesthetics.

Butcher’s mind is still put off by the existence of this footage, but his body is starting to respond to the sights and sounds on the screen. He considers crossing his legs, but then decides against stifling anything. If this cunt is going to provoke him with their own pornography he better be prepared to deal with the consequences.

The Homelander onscreen arches violently, mewling.

“There, right there.” Homelander pauses the video.

“What about it?” Butcher asks. The still does look like a work of art, every muscle in Homelander’s body looking tensed, something that could be ecstasy or agony.

Homelander rewinds a few seconds back. “I came without, you know, coming. With my cock. It’s never happened to me before.”

Butcher shrugs. “I think I remember. You were shaking and seizing and then went all limp.”

“It’s never happened before. I’m trying to figure out what you did differently.”

Butcher shakes his head. “I’m sure it’s nothing I did. You’re just mentally turned on at home, staring at yourself, showing off for your Big Brother setup.”

Homelander seems annoyed. “I was trying to compliment you.”

“I mean, I’ll take it,” Butcher says. “But you were acting pretty differently on your own bed. I thought you were faking it a little. Now I know why, at least. Hamming it up.”

Butcher’s finding it hard to stand it any longer. The video is still playing, the Homelander onscreen lying limp and sweaty in the aftermath of his dry orgasm while the Butcher onscreen just keeps on keeping on. Homelander’s body is so relaxed and loose that now his head lolls with every thrust into his body. “Fuck me harder,” he says breathily, but it’s loud on the speakers. Butcher’s erection is tenting the bath towel he’s wearing. Homelander glances over and presses his hand against it, eliciting a hiss from Butcher.

“If you’re going to touch it, take off your damn gloves and open the towel at least,” Butcher mutters.

Homelander blinks and sits still for a moment, before doing just that, bare hands reaching down and stroking his length. Butcher groans when Homelander leans over and his mouth descends over his cock, that supernaturally strong suction making Butcher see actual stars in front of his eyes. He leans his head back on the couch, breathing hard, trying not to thrust, not because he doesn’t want to hurt the cunt’s throat but because…. Well… Butcher is having trouble keeping his train of thought. He keeps watching the porn onscreen, although his vision is hazy. The camera angle has switched to the other side view. The Homelander onscreen seems to have recovered from his little death, wrapped his legs tightly around Butcher’s hips and is pushing back to meet the thrusts. The Homelander offscreen has started humming in time with the lewd moans he’s making on the tape, and Butcher can’t help it, can’t keep himself from grabbing the cunt’s head by the golden hair and pushing his head down to take his cock to the hilt, even as his hips jerk upward. Homelander makes a choking sound but doesn’t stop sucking, swallowing down every drop even as Butcher’s body comes down and he sits on the couch bonelessly.

Butcher slowly gets his wits back, and his onscreen counterpart has also finished and slumped down on Homelander’s body (aerial view camera only showing Homelander’s face mostly hidden behind Butcher’s shoulder, only blue eyes peeking out).

“So you just record everyone you sleep with in that room?” he finally asks, his voice still strange and husky. How many of these sextapes does this cunt have?

“I guess,” Homelander says, then mumbles something quietly while turning away.

“Come again?”

“I said, you’re the first person who agreed to sleep in that bed.” Homelander’s still looking away, down at the floor. “Cause apparently it’s a ‘weird setup’,” he airquotes and Butcher has to wonder who said those exact words. Maybe Maeve? But this supe cunt actually sounds hurt about it.

Butcher suddenly gets up and grabs Homelander by the hand, still bare, which always causes a startle in him.

“Come on. Let’s go to your ‘weird setup’ and peel you back out of that uniform.”

“You just came…” Homelander protests, as if Butcher needed the reminder.

“You don’t think I can improvise?” Butcher chuckles.

When he’s got Homelander toppled over on the bed, and undoing the buttons holding the hard shell of his suit together he adds, quietly in the cunt’s ear. “But if you make those little slutty sounds like you did last night, I’m sure I’ll be ready to go again soon.”

Homelander makes a small whimper at those words, as if on cue.

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#cozy corner kinktober #butchlander #homelander #billy butcher #Youtube #the boys #the boys tv #mystuff #fic

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arrieebooks · 1 year

Text

Precious Weapon (8)

Pairing : Lloyd Hansen x F!OC (Elle) x Sierra Six (Court Gentry) x glimpses of Denny Carmichael.

Summary : She has her first kill but things get messy. Lloyd starts to feel feelings for her. They all three have a conversation about what they really are.

Warnings : Guns. Detailed murder. Violence. Assassination Gore. Lloyd thirsts over her ass. Nudity. Taking clothes off. Polyamory relationship. Fun trysts in a hotel. Lots of implied sex. Teasing. Making out underwater. Slight happiness for a short time. References to home theater. (Check it out, it deserves more recognition!).

Word count : 14k words.

Author's note : This takes place exactly two weeks after chapter seven.

***

Lloyd has no idea what kind of spell she has put him under to be this whipped to her.

He is obsessed with her. Captivated. Bewitched. She controls him, unintentionally and subconsciously. Anything she wants, it's hers. He does whatever she says. He has never been this glued before with any other women in his life. And she doesn’t even do much. She just simply exists in his radar.

He finds her completely flawless. Everything she does is perfect and attractive to him. It doesn’t even matter what she’s doing. It could either be when she’s eating up all of their food hungrily or blowing up buildings and warehouses or bursting with laughter loudly whenever Six tries to crack up a stupid joke.

Even today, as she's bent down and arching her ass while gripping a huge sniper against the hotel room's window, she looks absolutely sexy and tempting to him. He's never seen any woman handle a gun so perfectly composed — Six taught her well. He could see the curve of her ass through her thin black leggings. Lloyd scrubs his hand over his stache, drifting his eyes toward the view of the mall in front of them instead of her ass.

He squints his eyes due to the usual hot sunny day of the city. The room smells like a fresh new hotel room and he missed it. He's sitting on the uncomfortable chair in the desk, right beside her where the gun is placed. Six is somewhere on the bed, reviewing the surveillance cameras in his laptop and the blueprint of the mall to look for loopholes.

It's her first big mission after two weeks of waiting and recovering from everything that’s happened. An assassination mission. To eliminate one of the corrupt politicians in the city. She’s been studying his case during her week off and he is truly the fucking worst.

She had flinched a couple of times just looking at his files from what he had done to thousands of poor innocents just for the sake of money. The bastard doesn’t even care nor is he scared of being caught. Instead, he’s chilling in a fancy outdoor café from the mall with his family while he's calling some other politician as well.

They’ve been in that mall before, it just wasn’t a mission. It was a nice day out with just them because she wanted fresh air that time. He wishes the circumstance could be the same now. He hates assassination missions. It always gets messy real fast, somehow.

“You know, I could just shoot him right here and then we could enjoy this nice room for the rest of the day.” Elle remarks casually, her eyes still watching the man from the sniper’s lens.

Six looks up from his laptop and frowns. "We just need to be patient. Get him alone and do it in a secure place without too many cameras in every single angle." he calmly tells her.

Lloyd looks down at her even though she can't see him. "That's not exactly the purpose we got this room for, sweetheart." he retorts coldly.

She rolls her eyes, retreating from the sniper to look straight into his eyes. "But, it is a pretty expensive room just to waste it for a few hours, spying on this asshole doing nothing." she grumbles but he still finds it so fucking attractive. She's just like him.

He glares at her as his jaw tenses. "You're the one who told us to get this room in the first place." Lloyd reminds her, proving to himself even more that he does whatever she says.

She finally stands up straight and her eyes look down at him. "Yeah, because it had a clear view of the whole outdoor mall. But I didn't think that we would be holed up in this room for hours. He practically hasn't moved a single muscle." she states.

Lloyd shakes his head. "We can't kill him with the gun. The room's window that we booked is clearly going to leave a hole. A fucking bullet hole. We're too close to the target. They'll trace it back to us." he states the obvious.

She shrugs. "We used a fake identity to book this room, they can't trace it back to us. We'll be fine." Elle still insists.

Sometimes her stubbornness gets on his nerves way too much. His jaw clenches and clicks while his eyes glare up at her.

"No. it's not how it's done. You're here to make it look completely clean and untraceable, without any sort of evidence at all. That's your purpose, Elle." Lloyd sternly tells her.

She huffs, rolling her eyes again. She knows that he's making a perfect point now. She just hates admitting it.

"And I can't believe I've put up with you for one month now." she says with a sigh, a small smile slowly forming on her lips.

Lloyd's face gradually relaxes a little bit and realizes this is her way of telling him that he's right, for the very first time.

Six perks up from his laptop, glancing between them. "Has it really been a month? I don't keep track of dates." he casually says.

She snaps his head to him and nods. "Yep. A month or so." Elle answers before walking up to him and Lloyd's eyes follow her every moment.

She sits on the bed, right in front of him. "So, when do we finally get down there? I can't hear anything he's saying from up here." she asks him, sweetly.

Six looks down at his laptop again to study the blueprint so he could get them a nice exit strategy.

Lloyd clicks his tongue in disapproval. "He's probably saying something useless anyway. Like which stripper club he wants to buy next." he remarks.

She turns around to him. "Have you ever been to a stripper club before?" she teases him intentionally with a smirk on her lips.

Lloyd casually nods. "Yeah. In France. Just not really my scene. Too dark and flashy. Tacky. And, embarrassing. Every guy is there to see some ass and everyone knows it." he comments.

She furrows her brows, cocking her head to the side. "Why'd you only say ass?" she asks.

He stammers, evidently panicking. "I—what? What does that even mean? What else was I even supposed to say? It is like that! It's all ass!" Lloyd tries to defend himself but she just laughs at him.

Six still remains calm and focused on the screen of his laptop. They don't bother his focus by talking like this, he likes it when they talk. He was the one who suggested in the first place to include Lloyd in their thing because he genuinely likes the guy.

She shakes her head. "It means you like ass more, Hansen. There are other body parts of a woman that aren't just their ass. The fact that you only said ass, means you're an ass man." Elle explains to him.

Lloyd scowls, looking very offended by her true statement. "That's not true." he denies.

She raises her brows. "Really? How about my ass, then?" She keeps teasing him and Six finally looks up to them. He knows Lloyd loves her ass more than anything. Six could tell by the way he was always staring at it. Even earlier, he noticed.

He shrugs plainly. "What about your ass? It looks fine to me." Lloyd pretends to not like her ass even though he has been staring at it this whole time.

She giggles. "You like my ass, Lloyd. Admit it." she urges as Six stares back down at his laptop to hide a smile.

Six clears his throat before the other man could even open his mouth. "Guys, I think I found a plan," he announces.

Lloyd smirks at him, now focusing all his attention on him. "Well, let's hear it, ken doll." he gestures his hand for him to continue.

"Right, so we'll go in there separately. Maybe, one of us as a couple. We disguise our way in there and act like clueless tourists just wandering around. We'll bring one of our agents so I can walk with them." Six makes a plan out of the top of his head since he's never really done this before.

She frowns. "So… me and Lloyd as a couple?" she asks slowly.

Six casually nods. "Yeah. You guys look more fitting for it. I'll be a solo traveler with a friend. Then, Lloyd and you are going to follow him after he leaves that café. Make something up so he could be in a secluded place. Wherever you decide to do it, make sure to destroy the cameras before it could even catch you. Are we clear?" he explains to them.

They're both an attentive partner to him, always listening to him no matter what the situation is. Six rarely makes plans for missions. He usually just does what he's told to. He only ever strategizes when he urgently has to.

Lloyd immediately nods. "Clear. I'll go and tell our team in the other room." he declares, getting up from his seat.

She nods her head too. "I'm going to prep and cloak our weapons again so it doesn't beep during security." Elle states before all of them part their ways to do their own thing.

***

Beep

Their hotel door opens as Lloyd comes into the room with the key card in his hands. He's just finished briefing the team of their plan. He bought some clothes in the mall for their disguise as well.

Elle is in the bathroom, doing her hair to make it look like she's a tourist because she clearly doesn't. She's already learned to blend in since she was born. She's lived in this country her whole life.

Six is taking off his shirt and jacket in the room, that certainly doesn't make him look like a solo traveler. He looks more like a rich guy about to murder a guy. It's not exactly his fault that Lloyd always buys his clothes expensively. He just told him that he wanted comfortable clothes.

Lloyd's knuckles knock on the bathroom and Elle snaps her head with a straightener and a brush still in her hair. "Yeah?" she asks him as he leans on the doorframe.

He shows her three shopping bags. "Bought you guys some clothes. You know, for the disguise. I've already memorized both of your sizes." Lloyd tells her.

She nods, calmly putting the burning hot straightener on the counter. "Okay, what am I wearing?" she asks, fully turning to him with a hand on her hip.

Lloyd takes a clothing item from the bag and reveals it to her. "Well, this." He hands her a very long, flowy maxi pink sundress with white flowers and ribbons for the straps. Something to wear in an island destination or on a beach.

She sighs. "You've got to be kidding me. I have to wear this? Lloyd, we're in Jakarta, not in fucking Bali or something. This is not something you'd wear in a city." Elle complains.

Lloyd nods. "Yeah, stupid tourists, remember? They wear whatever the fuck they want." he argues.

She shakes her head in disbelief. "Fine. If I have to wear this shit, then you can't wear this either." she says, her finger pointing out his clothes that certainly make him look too rich and not like a tourist at all.

He frowns, looking down at his black patterned polo shirt and his white trousers. "What? No. These are my clothes. I'm not taking it off. Ever." Lloyd firmly states.

She smirks, stepping forward to him and her hands rest against his chest. "Yes, you are. Because I'm the one taking it off of you." she softly demands, her fingers already slowly taking his buttons off.

Lloyd huffs. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he grumbles but he doesn't move a single muscle, he's letting her do it.

She nods, flicking off three buttons on the top of his shirt. “Yeah, wear a normal shirt and normal pants to blend in as a tourist. You know, I knew you weren’t just some tourist or a guy who worked a 9-5 job here, back at that bar. Because of how you dressed. Now, let me style you, Lloyd.” she says before finally finishing taking off all of the buttons.

He rolled his eyes, glaring down at her. “Whatever. Just make it quick.” Lloyd mumbles and she lifts his shirt above his head quickly.

He’s left shirtless and while this isn’t the first time she’s seen him like this, it has been a long time since they’ve seen each other fully naked. It’s only been two weeks. Lloyd wanted to give her some space, after everything that’s happened. He didn’t want to push her. He wanted to let her body heal properly. She’s been with Six a lot and he's been helping her sleep every night.

She looks down at all his toned abs and abdomen. “You’ve gotten ripped.” Elle remarks teasingly.

Lloyd frowns. “That’s not true. I haven’t even been working out.” He refers to something else that isn’t related to actually working out. He knows she knows what it means. He knows how smart she actually is. Smarter than him, sometimes.

Her lips turn into a smirk as she slowly stares up at him with those big, innocent eyes. “Well, we could fix that tonight if we decide to stay the night here.” She teases him.

He slowly nods. “We'll see later.” Lloyd seriously tells her and a smile gleams on her lips.

She grabs the dress she’s about to wear and snatches all the shopping bags from his hands. “Come here, we have more space in the room.” she says before grabbing his hand, dragging him into their room.

Six turns his head to them and frowns confusedly. She goes to stand in front of him while throwing all the bags onto their bed. Lloyd still has his hand glued on hers as he stands behind her.

"What's going on here? Why is Lloyd suddenly shirtless?" Six asks them, holding in a laugh as his lips slowly tug into a small smile.

She smiles softly. "I'm styling him now. You need it too, you know. So, take your shirt off please." she demands him and he immediately nods, already taking his shirt off from him. Six doesn't hesitate at all because they've both seen him naked already and he trusts them. If this was anyone else, he'd rip their skin off.

Lloyd tilts his head to the side. "You keep ordering us to take off our shirts, when are you going to do the same?" he asks her, wrapping his hand around her waist as he presses himself against her from behind.

Six casually throws his shirt somewhere on the bed before glaring at the other man.

"Now's not the time for that. We need to—"

Wordlessly, she casually takes her crop top off of her body, revealing her white bra that matched her shirt. "I need to change into my dress first before I style you guys." she innocently says.

Lloyd's eyes wander all around her body from behind and somehow, he's so relieved that all her scars from two weeks ago are gone. He knows it has been gone for long already but he remembered the fear he felt when he saw all those scars on her body that weren't healing yet. He thought it was the end of her.

Six's eyes respectfully stare down at her body before looking back up at her eyes. "Change quick, Elle. This isn't a…" he softly trails.

She nods. "I know. This is a mission. And the mark's still in the same place until now." she states as a matter of fact.

Lloyd looks at their window and she's right. He glances at the blonde as he smirks. "Come on, Six. Loosen up. She's just styling us. It's a requirement for the mission." he remarks.

"Since when do you ever loosen up for a mission?" Six casually asks, knowing how he used to be so uptight with them during a mission. But that was before having her.

Lloyd shrugs before she pulls away from him and walks towards Six, standing beside him. "Because he's changed, right?" she teases.

He nods. "Maybe," he admits.

Six looks over to her and the dress she has in her hands. "Take your pants off and wear the dress." he softly demands, grabbing the dress she's holding.

She does what she's told, kneeling down a little to take her leggings off smoothly. Lloyd has to retreat his eyes from the view in front of him to not get that distracted. He does have to do a mission after this. He can't get hard for this.

After completely removing her leggings off of her feet, she throws them onto their bed. She stands up and looks up at Six due to their height difference. Sometimes she forgets how tall he is compared to her. She's not exactly short, he's just too tall.

Elle turns to him and he puts on the dress above her head carefully. She didn't even think he'd do this for her. He places the straps on her shoulders correctly and smoothens them out before he observes the dress on her body quietly.

"Nice dress for a disguise." Six quietly remarks, "Lloyd bought you this, didn't he?" he asks before turning to the man in question.

Lloyd nods at him. "Yeah, obviously. She wouldn't have worn something like this."

She turns her eyes to him and rolls her eyes. "Because this isn't some island. It's a city. We don't wear shit like this." she retorts, tidying her dress.

He frowns. "I've seen some girls wear this at that bar and then in this mall. Even more revealing and shorter ones." Lloyd comments casually.

She shakes her head. "Other girls aren't me. I have a damn principle. I wasn't raised that way." Elle firmly states. She doesn't think that other girls who wear that are sluts or anything, it's just a matter of preference and principle. She was raised by abusers, but they still taught her about values, regardless.

Lloyd cocks his head to the side before slowly smirking. "Well, then, maybe it's a good thing that you'd only be revealing yourself to us and no one else. It's exclusive." he affirms.

"Yeah, except for now." she retorts, still not really okay with having to wear this dress just for the mission.

Lloyd sighs, regarding her with a soft look. "I know, baby, but we're gonna walk together out there. If anyone says some stupid shit I'll shoot their fucking mouth." he swears. He's never called her that. That was usually Six's thing for her, sometimes.

She breaks into a giggle. "Yes, please. I'd love that very much." she says before realizing what he just said. "Wait. Did you just—"

And Lloyd just had noticed what slipped out of his mouth, accidentally. "Okay, let's just change our clothes and you know, do it quickly." he tries to change the subject.

She's okay with it. She knew he wasn't ready for it yet, anyway. He never is going to be. He doesn't have the guts to make things more serious. Even after a month. A month of enduring and living together. That's the longest he's ever stayed with anyone before and the most he's done with a woman.

She clears his throat before a smile touches her lips. "Alright, so, you guys stay here." she tells them, walking to their bed and grabbing the shopping bags.

As she turns around to them with the bags, she takes a step back to observe both of them like this. Still and shirtless. Just for her. Like two sexy supermodels perfect and ready for her only. She has no fucking idea how much power she has over them. They'd do quite literally anything for her if she asks. Even this. This is something they both would've never done if it wasn't with her and for her.

She won't admit this, but this whole thing is turning her on a little. A little too much, perhaps. It does spark her a bit that they'd both just strip their whole body for her whenever she asks. She knows it's a sensitive thing for them because their body is full of scars and survivor wounds that no one else would've been allowed to see. Except for her, that is.

Six turns to her and frowns. "Elle? You good?" he softly asks her.

She snaps herself back to reality and looks at him, nodding. "Yep. Yes, all good. Okay, so, Lloyd's turn first. Because… there's a lot to work with." Elle states, walking to him.

Lloyd straightens up and places his hands on his bare hips as she steps closer to him.

She stands in front of him, staring down at his pants before she grimaces. "Your pants… It's too douchey. It reeks of an asshole rich guy who's about to murder someone. Not a clueless, stupid tourist." she remarks.

He rolls his eyes. "Fine, what am I wearing then?" he asks her and she pulls out some white linen pants from the bag.

Lloyd already shakes his head at the sight of it. "Absolutely not. That was for Six." he argues.

"Wear it." she orders sternly and he's just speechless, eventually taking the white pants from her hands. She sneaks a peek into the options for the shirts and finds a dark navy polo shirt. Which is still from a fancy brand but at least, it doesn't look like it from the front.

She casually hands him the shirt and he just accepts it, without any complaints. "See, you can even still wear a polo shirt, just a much more normal one than your usual. I have no idea why you bought a dozen clothes for this disguise. This is like a week's worth of clothes for the three of us." she comments.

He scoffs, looking down at the clothes she chose for him. "Because I thought we'd need some clothes if we're going to stay the night. Our fake suitcases are all filled with weapons and comms. That you magically made it invisible." Lloyd remarks, quietly praising her.

Elle nods. "I know, I'm amazing. Anyway, take your pants off and wear all this. I'm not gonna look." she assures him before turning around from him to walk to Six.

Six's face slowly relaxes at her as she steps closer and closer to him with the bags in her hands. Lloyd begins to take his pants off to wear the clothes she told him to but Six completely ignores the sight. Instead, his eyes study her every movement, as usual. Her long dress sways with her body as she walks and he just noticed how perfect she's wearing the dress she hates.

She meets his eyes and gives him that soft, warm smile he secretly likes so much. Her cheeks blushes and her dimples show whenever she smiles. "You look nice, you know. Just saying. Regardless of the situation." Six quietly compliments her.

Her lips stretch further as her smile widens. "Thank you." she sweetly thanks him.

Looking down at the bags again, her eyes light up as she finds the perfect clothes for him. Along with an accessory. She takes them all out and reveals it to him.

Six's eyes look down at her clothing choice for him and he has absolutely no complaints. Even though he's never worn anything like this before. There's some khaki linen pants, a white linen button collar shirt and a dark blue baseball cap.

She looks at him for approval. "What do you think?" she asks him.

He stares up at her again and his lips form into a small, genuine smile. "It's perfect. I'll wear it." Six softly tells her as he gently grabs the clothes from her hands.

Her smile glows again and brightens up the whole hotel room. "Great, okay. I'll let you change." she says, turning around again to Lloyd. It's like she's a spinning wheel the whole time.

Once she finally sees Lloyd all dressed in the exact outfit she chose and wearing it surprisingly well, her smile widens again.

Lloyd looks down at his final outfit and smiles at her. "Satisfied with the result?" he asks her while she walks closer to him.

She casually nods, placing all the bags on their bed again before grabbing two pairs of sunglasses from it. One for her. One for him. She doesn't even know why he bought so many sunglasses for a one time disguise and one night in this hotel.

Elle steps closer to him while she could hear Six take his pants off and she tries to ignore that. She needs to focus. This is a serious mission. She's about to kill someone. She's never planned that before. It has always been self-defense.

Lloyd grabs the sunglasses from her hands and examines it closely. "It's decent, I guess," he mutters before staring back up at her, regarding her. She's glowing in that dress as her face focuses on her leopard print sunglasses.

He tilts his head to the side and tucks her hair under her ear. Her eyes finally looked up at him. "You do look nice, you know. You could pull anything off. Even my shirt." Lloyd softly tells her.

She laughs out loud, smiling widely and his heart bruises again. He has no idea what the fuck is going on with his heart or his mind or anything inside him. He doesn't know what's wrong with him. She affects him so much. Everything that she does impacts him. Even the tiniest things. He hates feeling this way. Confused. Lost. Helpless. He has never felt all these emotions for anyone. He's never even felt emotions for himself. She changed everything and he's starting to hate it.

She shakes her head. "Not your polo shirts. I want to wear your normal shirts. The one you wear to bed. It'll be much more comfortable." she says.

He frowns. "I don't wear anything to bed, sweetheart. You'd know that if you spent a night with me." Lloyd remarks. A little harsh, since he was the one who kept his distance after what happened two weeks ago. He just wanted to give her space. He didn't want to touch her. But, she wanted him to. She just thought he wanted space as well.

She nods seriously. "We will, Lloyd. Soon enough. Or tonight, in this hotel room." she teases.

Six clears his throat, tidying his shirt as he's all dressed up. "I'm done. We should go now. Lloyd, we need a few agents watching the area as well. Are they ready?" he asks him.

Elle and Lloyd immediately turn around to him as she takes a second to properly observe him, up and down. He looks way too good in those linen pants than he should be. He's used to being dressed by people and ordered around. He usually just wears whatever the agency tells him to. But this time, it's different. She's styling him, not demanding him. In a much more affectionate way, too.

Lloyd nods at him. "Yeah, they are. Are you guys ready?" he asks both of them, about to walk to the door as Six steps forward towards them.

She turns around to him and nods. "So, we need to do a little PDA if that's okay with you, you know to be more convincing. We'll walk with our arms tangled together and our bodies sticking the whole time while just admiring the place." she tells him in detail.

He knits his eyebrows. "Are you okay with that? I know you hate all that shit. It makes you uncomfortable." Lloyd reminds her, knowing her all too well by now.

She hums assuringly, her eyes gazing up at him. "No, it's okay. It's just for the mission. I just want to get this over with before this guy hurts more people." Elle firmly states.

Six is already standing behind her, resting his hand on her shoulder. "We'll do it right. I believe in you." he softly murmurs to her.

She moves her eyes to him and gives him a small smile. "Yeah, I know." she whispers back.

Lloyd glances between them while they're still focused on each other. He clears his throat, gaining their attention. "Let's go. We don't have all day." he declares, sternly.

They both agree to that, leaving their hotel room all at once.

***

It's the most annoying thing to pretend. She hates pretending. She'd rather walk into a burning fire.

But this time, she doesn't really have much of a choice but to follow the protocols of the mission. It needs to be discreet. Quiet. Quickly.

There's nothing discreet about murdering an influential politician in the biggest mall in the city, though. It was the only way. He was in his office every other day.

Unless she was planning to execute all of the corrupt politicians in the city at their own office, she'd have to work with what she has now.

At least this way, she gets to finally be close enough with Lloyd. He has sort-of ignored her for this whole week. She's missed him. So much. But, she didn't want to push him either if he somehow wanted space. She understands him. More than himself, even.

So now, here they are, walking side-by-side with her arm clinging onto his and her body leaning against his while they walk through the mall as a fake tourist couple. Well, technically, it's not really fake but they're not exactly a couple. They're okay with touching each other and being close but they're definitely not in a relationship. It's too complicated for both of them.

"Where did he go now?" Lloyd asks, whispering into her ears as he smiles just to make people think that he's saying something affectionate to her.

She fakes giggles, leaning onto his ear. "I don't fucking know. How long do we have to pretend like this again?" she asks him.

He looks down at her with no expression this time. "Until he's dead, sunshine." Lloyd says, close to her face and somehow, he manages to make his tone affectionate.

She frowns slightly, looking ahead. "Somehow you saying actual murder and mixing it with a sweet nickname gives me the chills. Honestly, Lloyd, how can you be so casual about this?" Elle genuinely asks him, finally looking into his eyes.

Lloyd stares back at her, regarding her with a small, tender look. He just realizes that she's still not used to all this yet. "Because I've gotten used to it. I had to. And you will too, one day. At least, you have us. I'll guide you step-by-step." He actually means it when he says it. He wants to help her. Something that he didn't have when he had his first kill.

She wonders for a moment, what it would be like when she'll be all alone, doing all the missions for the CIA and not having a home to come home to. Or anyone to come home to. It'll be just like before. Her pretty, wide eyes continue to stare into his as they walk straight ahead into the crowd. Over here, the people give them space to walk just because they're white. They respect them more due to the color of their skin. It's an unfortunate fact.

She nods slowly. "Yeah. Okay." she replies before drifting her eyes to where they're going.

Lloyd looks around them, searching for their mark. "Fuck, I think we lost him." he mutters, pressing the comms in his ears and she does too.

"Six, where are you?" he asks him through their comms and it immediately connects to him.

There's loud noises of the crowd heard through his comms before he clears his throat. "I'm walking through the bridge above you. There's a huge balcony here and he just dropped his family off to go to the other connecting mall. He's alone now. Come meet me." Six flatly explains while casually walking through the crowd alone. He's got his navy baseball cap on with a backpack behind his back and a field agent beside him.

She hums in response. "We're on our way to you." Elle immediately answers.

Lloyd glances at her and frowns. "You know exactly where he is?" he asks.

She nods calmly. "I know the place that he told us about. I've been in this mall since I was born. I've memorized every inch of this place even before it was all renovated and shit." she tells him.

His lips form into a thin line. "Right. Okay. You know best. Sorry, sweetheart." Lloyd quickly apologized and she smiled casually.

It was really unlike him to apologize. Especially to admit that he's actually wrong. Problem is, his ego is bigger than anything. It makes him feel better to know that he's smarter than anyone else. But for her, he'd be willing to forget about his ego for just a second.

And nowadays, he's doing that a lot.

***

Her eyes searched through the crowd for Six. She knew she couldn't approach him but it'd feel nice just to see him.

"I'm sure he's here somewhere." Lloyd mutters in her ear.

She nods, not even looking at him as they're holding hands like a couple. She guides him further into the enormous bridge balcony between the two new malls. It's way too crowded and suffocating in here that he's practically squeezing her soft hands. He hates crowded spaces.

He unhooks his sunglasses from his shirt and puts it on due to the brightness of the sun, despite being in the shade already. It smells weird here. Like all kinds of different smells combined into one and are all in the same place. People have been staring at them with wide eyes ever since they've entered the mall and he despises it. She does too. She's always hated it.

Lloyd's eyes scans through the place again, seeing the huge amount of people walking everywhere and suddenly, he spots the target from across the other balcony. He's casually walking with a suspected mistress while holding a bunch of shopping bags in his other hand.

He leans onto her ear. "Hey, he's here." Lloyd whispers and she whips her head, immediately looking for Six. "No, not Six. Our mark, I mean. He's with a young woman. Fucking pathetic." he comments.

Elle frowns before turning her eyes to where his eyes are staring at. And there he is. Her mark. Not exactly the man she was looking for but it'll do. She wants to finish this mission as quickly as possible, anyway so she could enjoy the rest of her day peacefully. Though, now that the moment's perfect and he's almost right in front of her, she hasn't actually thought of how to do it. Of course, it'd have to be with her mind. But, how? How could she do it without making it look completely ruthless?

She leans to his ear. "I'll just make his heart stop from here. Quick and easy. Less bloody and everything." she says, with a slight hesitancy.

He furrows his brows, glancing at her. "Are you sure? You know he deserves way worse, Elle. I know you think that too. I know you." Lloyd encourages her more. He means well. He's not trying to push her limits. He knows her limits. And this is barely crossing it. He just wants her to live up to her actual potential and he wants to guide her to it.

Suddenly, she stops walking and he does too, turning to her. He frowns in concern, gently holding her hands between them. Her eyes are focused elsewhere, to the mark and around them. All these innocent people. It's already bad enough that she has to get them to witness a murder scene and now she has to make his death more painful.

She frantically shakes her head, finally meeting his eyes through her own sunglasses. "No… I can't. Not with all these people." she whispers.

Lloyd sighs softly, squinting through his sunglasses. "Elle, there's barely any people around them. Plus, we could still make it less bloody if you want. I'll teach you. Just like you wanted." he assures her, calmly. He knows how to convince her.

She doesn't exactly nod or say anything approving of it. She needs to make sure first. "Are we out of the camera's sight?" she asks first.

He nods immediately before pressing on his comms. "Tell our IT team to disable the cameras now. We're on standby." Lloyd orders the team.

"Okay. Well, what do I do now?" she hesitantly asks him.

His eyes gesture across them, to where their mark is still standing there, watching the city view with his mistress. Lloyd gets behind her and she turns to get a clear view of the mark. He hugs her from behind affectionately while his arms wrap around her waist. They're making it look like they're just a tourist couple, enjoying the view like everyone else is.

Her soft hands rest on top of his as he leans onto her ear. "Focus on the mark and on your energy." he whispers softly and she nods.

She turns her gaze, paying close attention to the man across from them. He looks so calm and happy, despite all the crimes he's done that no one else knows about. He doesn't give a single shit about all the innocent lives he's ruined. He only cared about his money and his wealth. He took advantage of so many people in this city. And that really enraged her. It sparked rage in her. That's enough energy for what she's about to do now.

His mouth brushes against her ear. "Now, do it. Kill him, Elle. He deserves it." Lloyd coldly says, giving her the official order.

She nods obediently, inhaling a deep breath as her eyes sharply glare at the mark with anger still inside her. That anger fuels her powers and her mind focuses on the mark before the man starts to feel choked, like there isn't any more oxygen for him. He holds his neck with both of his hands to try to breathe but before he could even move again, his neck snaps by her mind. He drops dead on the floor while everyone around them screams in panic.

She widens her eyes in shock, not expecting it to go like that. She just killed a man in public brutally and now she's feeling guilty of it. She looks around the dead body and all the people terrified of their life, worrying that they'll be next. She never wanted it like this. She doesn't want to scare people to death.

Lloyd slowly smirks, ignoring the chaos around them. "Good girl, baby. Let's get out of here." he whispers in her ear and she lets him take her out of there.

What the fuck was that?

***

She's been quiet ever since they went back to their hotel room. She's waiting for Six. Lloyd's in the bathroom, cleaning himself up.

She's just sitting by the desk, staring out at the window, showing the crime scene happening downstairs. It's utter chaos. A respected politician died mysteriously, out in public. There's no evidence. Not even a trace. They'll be investigating this for ages.

But, she isn't stopping here. This is only her first. There are still more kills to come.

She's still questioning herself, though. Is this really what she wants? Killing all the corrupt politicians in the city to insinuate fear for everyone? That wasn't her purpose. She wants to clean up the city. Not make it way worse. She wants to make it better for the people in the city. And this definitely doesn't feel like it.

Suddenly, someone knocks on the door and she immediately gets up from her seat, already knowing who it is. The man she's been waiting for.

She opens the door with her mind, standing in the middle of the room. Six steps in the room and the door closes itself behind him. He looks at her with a small smile.

"Oh, you're back!" Lloyd shouts from the bathroom as he's still showering and the blonde chuckles softly.

Her lips slowly tug into a tired, relieved smile at seeing him. Wordlessly, she runs to him and throws all her weight against him as her arms wrap around him. She gets on her tiptoes and rests her head on his chest. Hugging him has always been a comfort for her. In any situation. She feels so much better once she's in his arms. She feels safe. Secured. Content.

Six's arms wrap around her back and he kisses her head. "How are you feeling?" he softly asks in her ears. The most tender voice she's ever heard. The only thing that could really comfort her. Him and his voice.

She shakes her head. "It got messy." Elle mutters against his chest.

He nods. "I know. We'll have better ones next time. You're still learning. My first was also quite messy." Six admits bluntly.

She pulls away from him, resting her hands on his shoulders. "How did it happen?"

Six sighs, looking down at her with tenderness. "Well, I was supposed to just use the sniper but… he got away. So I had to do it another way. A more brutal way. The reason they had me using a sniper for my first time is because it lets me keep my distance from the mark. It's almost the same as what you did today. But, the closer you get to the mark, the more experienced you are." he explains.

She nods, her eyes staring up at him and she gazes openly at him. She's so glad that she has him. She can't imagine doing all this alone. She needs him for this mission. Both of them. Without them, she'd probably be unstable and reckless.

He cups her face and his thumb gently caresses her skin. "It's almost getting dark. Do you want to just stay in and order room service? We can go back to the penthouse first thing tomorrow." Six softly suggests.

She hums in response, smiling up at him and he admires her quietly. She's too fucking beautiful and pure. Everytime she smiles, it feels like his cold heart is starting to fill up. She makes him better. Not just better. Whole. She accepted parts of him and embraced it. Only her. She's the only one he wants. She might just be the best, unexpected thing that could ever happen to him. He never expected anything for himself. And then, she came to him.

"Sounds like a good idea, Six." Lloyd interjects while coming out of the bathroom with his hair still wet and ruffled. He put on some gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt from his shopping earlier.

They both turn to him and she walks further into the room. "It's chaos down there." Elle remarks, gesturing to the view from their window.

Six and Lloyd stand beside each other as they both almost nod in sync. She quietly observes both men, seeing the invisible bond between them. In one full month, they've managed to become each other's most trusted partner that they've ever had in their life. They trust each other with their life. They'd kill and die for each other. They have the same admiration for her. They care for her. They're practically inseparable. She wonders if it's more than just buddies and partners. They've both seen each other naked. They've fucked her at the same time. It's not entirely impossible for them to feel something.

Lloyd looks at her, his eyes only focusing on her. "I don't think that was messy back there. But, I see your point. You hated the fact that civilians needed to witness all that. We could fix that. We'll find a much quieter place next time." he firmly tells her.

She slowly nods, her hand resting on her arm. "I don't want them to be scared, Lloyd. That's not my purpose."

He nods, understanding her. "I know. Your heart's already in the right place, Elle. It always has been. Your intentions are good." Lloyd seriously says with sincerity as he gazes openly at her from afar.

He actually meant it when he said her heart is in the right place, unlike anyone who's in the agency. Even with all the violence and chaos around her and everything horrible that's happened to her, she still managed to do good. She wants to fix and clean the city. Not burn it or corrupt it. She cares about the people in the city as well. And that's rare. He's never seen anyone so compassionate and kind like her. He knew it the moment he met her in that dingy bar.

Her eyes directly stare into his and an easy smile curves on her lips. "Right. So, we're officially staying here, right?" she asks him.

Lloyd breaks into a soft chuckle and nods. "Yes, we are. Six and I are going to the other room and do a quick debrief with the team and Denny. You clean up and relax. Order room service all you want." he explains.

Six simply nods. "Okay. Sounds like a plan." he says to him before glancing at her. "See you later, okay? Are you sure you're okay with being alone?" he asks her.

She smiles at him. "Yes. I'll be fine. You really are going to be quick?" she asks both of them.

Lloyd frowns at her. "Of course. We'll be quick for you. Promise. Okay, let's go before they knock on our room." he says, looking at the blonde.

She giggles softly as she watches Lloyd drag Six to the door. They both wave goodbye at her before they exit the room together.

The door closes behind them and silence settles in for her. Peace, as well. But she does hate being alone, especially at times like when she's stressed. It's consuming.

She's going to fix it though.

***

Finally, she got herself to relax and forget about all the mess that happened today.

She's drowning in clear, cold water inside the round bathtub of their hotel room. The only thing that could get her to relax.

She feels so calm and at ease when she's inside the water. She can't hear anything, or feel anything or think of anything at all. It's like the world doesn't exist anymore. And it's just her and the bathtub.

This bathtub isn't exactly as big and comfortable as the one they have in the penthouse, but it'll have to do for now. She didn't know how much the penthouse means to her until now as she finds herself missing it. It's her home now. It brings her so much comfort there. Plus, she feels so much safer there than here. As secure as this hotel is, it still isn't home. She can't wait to go back to the penthouse.

She tips her head up in the water, feeling more relaxed than ever. She knows it's almost been half an hour that she's inside the water. The guys haven't come back though. She's just waiting patiently for them.

Before she could even sink deeper into the water again, her phone annoyingly rings loudly beside her. She thought she placed her phone in the room to charge. Guess she just forgot. She's choosing to ignore it instead. It's probably from someone not that important.

But, after one ring, it keeps ringing again. That means the person has called her twice now. So, maybe it is a little important.

She groans, lifting herself up off the water and drying her hands with the towel next to her. Her eyes take a look at the screen still being shown on her phone and she gasps.

It's Denny. The chief. He's calling her, again.

Ever since she memorized his number from Lloyd's phone and put it on her phone, they've been regularly texting and sometimes calling. Rather, he has been texting and calling her. They don't talk much, though. He just frequently asks how things are there, how she is, how the missions were and if the agents were cooperating well or not. Just short and simple texts. But it's the most he's ever done with an asset. He really values her opinion on things. He wants to always hear her perspective first. He has her personal number. It's not strictly professional anymore between them.

Quickly but carefully, she gets out of the bathtub and dries herself. She puts on the hotel bathrobe, grabs her phone and rushes out of the bathroom.

The phone still keeps on ringing as she sits up on the bed. She answers his call and places it on her ear while leaning against the bed's headboard.

She clears her throat. "Hi. Sorry. I was in the bathroom. What's wrong?" Elle casually asks like she isn't talking to her boss anymore.

Denny sighs, turning around on his chair in his office that's overlooking the view of Croatia. He's in another CIA station again, sitting on his ass all day and debriefing missions from all around the world, just from his screen. He had just finished a debrief with the team, Lloyd and Six. He wanted one with Elle too, just much more casual and informal than a usual debrief.

"Nothing. I just wanted to ask how the mission was. I know how important it was for you." Denny calmly asks her and she bites her lips anxiously.

"Well… I didn't expect it to be like that. I thought I could just make it less gory. It was in a public mall. Everyone was there and they had to watch that horrible scene." she naively says.

He clicks his tongue. "I don't think that was horrible. I think it was the cleanest kill I've witnessed in the CIA. You did good. There's nothing to feel bad about. We'll make the next ones less public." Denny assures her.

She nods to herself as she hums in response. "Okay. Oh, by the way, weren't you just doing a debrief with Lloyd and Six?" Elle asks him.

He hums affirmatively. "Yes. I was. It was done. Now they're briefing their own team. How are they, speaking of?" he suddenly asks.

"The team?" she innocently asks before realizing what he actually meant by it.

"No, Lloyd and Six. How are they to you? Do they treat you well? I know Lloyd can be a little stubborn sometimes. It takes time to adjust." Denny asks her again.

She realized that his question was plainly asking if they treated her well as a teammate. He doesn't know anything about their relationship at all. And he shouldn't. It'd be unprofessional and weird. Even though this thing between them already is.

She turns her eyes toward the view as she massages her temples. "Yeah, they've been decent to me. I mean, they've never had someone to work with so it did take time to adjust. But, living together certainly made it easier for us to tolerate each other." Elle gives him a logical answer that wouldn't lead to him suspecting anything.

Denny hums quietly. "That's good. If they're ever misbehaving or disrespectful, let me know."

She nods. "Okay. I will."

"Good. You did a good job out there today. I'm saying it again because you really did." Denny tells her and she hums affirmatively.

Suddenly, from afar, the hotel door makes that annoying beeping noise when the key card scans the door. It opens and she could already hear Lloyd and Six entering the room while having a conversation. And then, she just realized that Denny can't know that they're sharing a room together. He knows that they booked a few rooms in this hotel for the mission but he'd obviously assume that she has her own room.

She clears her throat, quickly getting up from the bed as she walks to the window so he can't hear the men in the background. "Right, so, I'm gonna go. It's almost dinner time here and I am starving after that mission." She makes up a fake excuse.

"Alright, talk to you later." Denny formally says before she hangs up the call. She places her phone on the desk beside her and walks to them like normal.

Lloyd steps in further into the room with Six behind him. She smiles at them as she approaches them with a bathrobe still on.

He frowns at her. "Were you just on the phone with Denny?" Lloyd bitterly asks. He's not too fond of their interactions lately.

She casually nods as Six goes to stand beside her in the middle of their room. His hand gently wrapped around her lower back, turning to her with a relaxed face.

"I can't wait to get in that bed with you and not think of anything ever again." Six murmurs sweetly to her as she giggles softly.

Lloyd frowns, stepping forward to her. "Elle. Could you stop calling him? It's disturbing." he grumbles.

She looks at him, knitting her eyebrows. "What's wrong? We're just casually talking. Platonically." she confirms.

He scowls. "Yeah, that's the point. You're not even supposed to be platonic with him. You're just supposed to keep your distance because he's your boss. It's better that way." Lloyd states firmly.

Her eyes bore into his. "You don't control me, Lloyd. I don't see anything wrong with us just talking. He asks me how I am and how the mission is. That's it."

"Nothing more than that?" he asks her, his eyes glaring at her as his jaw tenses.

She shakes her head casually before frowning. "No. I'd never cheat on you, dumbass. You're too good to be cheated on." Elle cracks a joke with a small smile on her lips.

Six lets out a light chuckle at seeing Lloyd speechless. "She's too good for us, isn't she?" The blonde teases him.

Lloyd hides a smile on his lips before rolling his eyes. "Whatever. I'm starving. Let's order room service." he declares as Six and her exchange knowing looks.

***

Despite everything that happened today, she seems to be better now. With them. In the privacy of their hotel room, enjoying every moment they can.

After they had dinner in the living room of the hotel room, they each did their own thing.

Six went to shower, Lloyd's doing some work on his laptop right beside her on the bed and she's just quietly reading a book, also on the bed. They're both already dressed for bed.

It's not that late, but they're both tired and just want to relax. The city lights luminates on them and it's even brighter here than in their penthouse. They're in the center of the city. It overlooks the view of the whole city, not just a small part of it like what they're used to seeing.

"What book is that?" Lloyd suddenly asks her, still actively typing on his laptop.

She frowns confusedly, focused on her book. "Since when are you interested?"

He nods. "You're right, I'm not. I kinda just want to throw that book away from you and pull in for a kiss." Lloyd bluntly admits, not looking at her yet. He's teasing her.

She scoffs, putting her book down on her lap as she playfully rolls her eyes. "Put that laptop away, then. You can do it tomorrow. We have all the time in the world." Elle says, turning her body to him.

Lloyd finally looks down at her and her playful smile before giving in to her. "Fine." he mutters, closing his laptop as he places it on the nightstand beside him.

He turns to her, wrapping his hand around her waist as she giggles and leans her body against his side. Her pretty, tired eyes look up at him and smiles warmly.

Her body curls up against him as she rests her hands on his chest. She sighs contentedly, enjoying him like this. "I like you better this way. Calm and tamed." she remarks.

His face approaches hers. "I was never like this before. You did this." he tells her seriously, close to her face and their lips are inches from touching.

Her smile widens. "Are you glad that I did?" she slowly asks.

Lloyd nods almost immediately, staring down at her lips. "Yeah. I am." he softly answers before leaning down and kissing her lips gently at first. This is the first kiss they've had in almost a week.

She moans softly into his mouth, melting into the kiss and her hands reach up to his jaw. "We haven't kissed for ages." she complains.

He chuckles against her mouth. "You're exaggerating, sweetheart." Lloyd retorts.

She frowns, breaking the kiss. "No, I am not." Elle pulls away from him, "You haven't touched me for over two weeks. And, no, that night in our home theater doesn't count."

Lloyd sighs in defeat, his eyes gazing openly at her as he quietly admires her facial features. She's so fucking beautiful and gorgeous even when she's tired and has just murdered someone. To his eyes, she's the most perfect thing in the world. He'd never find anyone like her. Ruthless and pretty at the same time. She's not always ruthless though, she still could be kind and compassionate because it's who she is. It's in her nature. That's what he loves about her.

He shrugs off his thoughts. "I wanted to give you space. You know, after what happened." Lloyd finally answers truthfully.

Wait a minute—

She frowns again, that crinkle between her eyebrows revealing which he's already so familiar with. "But, I'm fine now. I healed completely. Psychically and mentally. I'm not some fragile fucking baby. I handled it well after. I got something good out of it, too."

Lloyd knits his eyebrows in confusion. "Yeah? Like what?" he asks her.

Then, she smiles up at him. That pretty fucking smile with her dimples and teeth showing. He's so addicted to it. It's one of his favorite things about her. He could start a whole list of it.

She blinks at him. "You saved my life. And now I know just how much you care about me." she sweetly murmurs, taking his hand to guide to her heart, just below her tank top. Her hand is on top of his as he feels her heartbeat against his hand. "Feel that? It beats for you now, Lloyd. You saved it."

His hand rests on her heart, beside her breasts. "You don't have to be so cheesy about it. But yeah, I'd do it again in a heartbeat." Lloyd firmly states and her smile lingers for him.

The bathroom door opens as Six comes out of it, with only his briefs and a white t-shirt. His hair is still wet from the shower. He casually walks to her side of the bed while shooting Lloyd a passing glance. She watches his every movement, paying close attention to his large, thick thighs that are showing off his muscles.

"What happened to your pants?" Lloyd asks him, genuinely. He thought that he had bought some extra sweatpants earlier.

"Didn't want to wear them. It's too humid." Six flatly replies as he makes his way to her, laying next to her on the bed. She's between them again. Sandwiched with two needy men.

He sits up as she turns her body around to him and she immediately smiles. "Hi," she mutters to him while Lloyd rolls his eyes at their disgusting cuteness. They don't even have to say anything sometimes. They could just look into each other's eyes and know what they're thinking.

Six looks down at her, cupping her face before grabbing her chin gently. He leans to press a soft kiss on her mouth, his lips slowly stretching into a smile against her lips. He's just happy to be here, safe and sound with her.

"Hi." he whispers and pulls away from her lips. He stares into her pretty, brown eyes. "What do you want to do now?" he asks her.

Lloyd smirks, glaring at him. "You know, there are a lot of things to do together in a hotel room, Six. A lot of fun things." he teases them.

She sighs before yawning tiredly. "While that sounds fun, I'm kinda worn out after today. But, I mean, if you guys want to do something, feel free to do it while I'm asleep. I have a special kink for that." she teases, glancing between them before winking smoothly.

"You have a what? How does that even work, Elle? How could you be turned on by something if you're fully asleep?" Lloyd asks so many questions. He's curious, but also genuinely concerned about the amount of kinks she has.

She laughs softly, moving to the side as she rests her body on Six's chest. She turns her head to Lloyd, still smiling for him. "Well, I'd have to be half awake, technically. You just gotta find a way to wake me up, I guess." she plainly explains.

Lloyd frowns, cocking his head to the side and taking a moment to think about it. He's never heard of a kink like that, because in order for it to work, it needs to be done in an established relationship but he's never had one before. It needs a lot of consent and trust beforehand. He has that all with her, though they're not necessarily in a relationship. None of them even know what it is. But, they trust each other and would kill if anything happens to one of them so that's more than enough.

Elle looks up at the man laying behind her. "Hey, can you pass my phone please? It's over there," she nicely asks him and he quickly looks over to where she's pointing her finger at. He reaches over to the nightstand beside him and grabs her phone, handing it to her.

She takes the phone in her hands and smiles up at him. "Thank you." she thanks him quietly as he just returns her smile. She doesn't even have to thank him, he'd do anything for her whenever she asks.

Opening her phone, she quietly scrolls through her apps to find the camera app. She scoots over to the middle with both men glued to each side of her. Wordlessly, she quickly aims her phone screen in front of them and takes one selfie. She smiles in it and both men just look confused, staring into the camera.

Six is caught off guard and Lloyd frowns at her. She looks back at them, plainly.

She shrugs at him. "What? I'm not gonna post it anywhere or something. I'm not an idiot. It's just for memories. I don't have a single picture of any of you on my phone." she defends.

Lloyd nods, his eyes staring down at her. "Yeah, but you can't keep that, Elle. Six, take it from her." he orders the blonde behind her.

Six tries to grab her phone from her hands but she dodges him. Lloyd quickly pulled her in closer by her waist, dropping his head down to leave kisses along her neck to tickle her with his stache. She giggles uncontrollably, her grip on her phone starting to get loose as Six takes it from her hands, placing it down on the nightstand. He doesn't delete it though, he does want her to have the picture.

She pulls her neck away from Lloyd and cups his jaw. "Assholes!" Elle exclaims at both of them, looking behind her.

Lloyd lets out a hearty laugh at her reaction, throwing his head back as Six laughs loosely with him. They both haven't had a good laugh like this for a while. She's the only one truly capable of making them laugh genuinely. The only one they'd want to spend their entire shitty mission with.

Lloyd sighs. "You can take pictures of us. Just not in a unsecure phone. We'll get a polaroid or something." he tells her in a serious but sincere tone. He understands why she took that picture. Because when one day, they're not going to see each other again then the only thing they'd have are memories.

She nods. "Okay, fine. But I'm still keeping that one. Even if you delete it, I'll just retrieve it back again." she warns, her finger pointing at him.

He frowns. "You can hack your own phone or something?"

She smirks at him. "Don't underestimate me, Lloyd. My brain is much more developed than an average human being. So, don't fuck with me or my phone."

"Right. Tell me what you can't do, then." Lloyd teases and she laughs softly.

She leans her body onto his, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "You, apparently."

He tips his head back onto the bed's headboard. "Oh, come on. I'm sorry, okay? What happened two weeks ago was so fucked up and I wanted to give us space. Maybe, to think about it again." Lloyd softly admits. He can be soft, sometimes. With the right motivation.

She shrugs, furrowing her eyebrows lightly. "What's there to think about? Do you think we're a mistake?" she asks him.

Lloyd grimaces at her words. "No, not a mistake. I don't think it's a mistake. I think it's the best fucking thing to ever happen. To all of us. I just… Maybe we could've given it a little more time. We did everything so quickly. Because what if we're doing it all wrong and then we're just going to fuck it up in the end? I don't want that." he explains to her, a hint of fear almost evident in his tone.

She knits her eyebrows. "I don't know what you're referring to, Lloyd. What do you mean by 'it'? Tell me. Do you think we're in a relationship?" Elle carefully asks since the question has never popped up before. She knew he hated relationships and probably have never been in a lasting one.

He frowns confusedly, trying to figure this all out. "I—I don't know? Maybe? Yes? What do you think, Six?" Lloyd asks the man behind her for advice. He's completely lost in this. He is stressed out.

Six meets his eyes as he breaks into a small smile. "I think it's more complicated than a relationship or anything that could be labeled. We work together, we live together and we fuck together. We share almost everything together. It's special what we have and rare. We've never done anything like this before with anyone else."

Lloyd nods, immediately agreeing with him before looking back at her eyes. "See? What he said." he says, grabbing both of her hands to hold them gently. "Look, Elle, I couldn't really give a shit about labels. What matters is us. We're together and I don't want to fuck this up in any way." he tells her, seriously.

He has never confessed anything like this before or expressed his true feelings to anyone. There's a first for everything. Especially with her. He's done so many things with her that never in a million years he'd thought he'd do for anyone. He'd never try so hard to save anyone's life. Ever. Wouldn't even bat his eyes if someone was dying in front of him. Doesn't even matter if he might even know them. Anyone could kill themselves beside him, he wouldn't care. No one has ever mattered this much to him until her.

Elle slowly smiles up at him. "You could start by fucking me for one. For the record, I don't think you're going to fuck it up because you've done a good enough job. You saved my fucking life. I owe you my life, Lloyd. That's not nothing. We both mean a lot to each other to ever just mess it up so easily. But, you know, if you meant it by accidentally sticking your dick inside of someone else then—"

Lloyd quickly grimaces in disgust, shaking his head. "Hey, no, fuck no. I would never do that to you. Plus, you've got the best fucking pussy in the world so why even bother looking anywhere else?" he teases with that stupid smirk of his that's undeniably attractive for her.

She lifts her eyebrows in surprise. "Really? Is it because of my strength? Because I've never used my strength in bed with anyone else before you guys. I still had to keep it a secret." she genuinely asks. Six stays quiet. He isn't going to say anything about this because he's got a feeling she already knows.

Lloyd nods. "Yeap. You also give really good hand jobs because of it." He casually compliments her.

She hums in realization. "Well, that's why you'll never be bored of my hands." she states.

His lips curve into a bigger smirk, getting near her face. "Exactly, sunshine." he replies.

Six shakes his head, chuckling quietly. "I thought you wanted to sleep." he reminds her.

Elle rolls over to his side of the bed and nods. "Yeah, I still am. I'm getting sleepy already." she answers, yawning softly.

Lloyd pats her back and pulls the white, thick hotel blanket to spread equally on all three of them. "Okay, go to sleep, sunshine. I'm going to finish some work. I'll wake you up if something interesting happens." he tells her, grabbing his laptop from the nightstand.

She tugs into the bed, getting more comfortable as she leans her body against Six. He wraps his arm around her and she lays her head down on his chest. "Wake me up if your dick gets hard too. I don't mind it at all." she casually says and Six snorts, holding in a laugh.

Lloyd scoffs, chuckling softly and he's opening his laptop to start working again. "I will. Good night, Elle. Sweet dreams."

She hums sleepily, already shutting her eyes closed with her legs tangled with Six's as he waits for her to fall asleep. He's not going to sleep just yet. He can't. It's too early for him and he's got a lot to talk with Lloyd. But he'd rather not have her listen to whatever they're about to say.

Sleep takes over her quickly and she's finally asleep peacefully.

***

While Lloyd tries to finish his work as quickly as possible, the guys continue to carry on a casual, quiet conversation. She's still sleeping quietly on Six’s chest.

She sleeps like the dead when she's with him. She's always been so comfortable with him. Not a single care in the world as long as she's in his arms, safe and sound.

Six stares at him intently, his eyes playing close attention to Lloyd's focused and serious face, suddenly. His eyebrows are furrowed and his fingers type quickly on the keyboard. He's almost done with his work and it's crucial for him to get it right. He can't make mistakes. He's an extreme perfectionist. And he'd hate to redo this all over again.

"You know, you can sleep if you want. I know you're getting tired. It's late, Six." Lloyd softly suggests to him, still looking at his laptop screen.

He lets out a quiet yawn as he nods. "You're right. Hey, don't stay up too late." he reminds him.

Lloyd gently scoffs and a small smile pulls into his lips. "Sure. I just need to finish this tonight so I can spend more time with her. And, you."

"Wel, just don't deprive yourself of sleep. It's important to have at least eight hours of sleep a night." Six tells him, really out of character for him.

He frowns, glancing at him from the side. "Oh? Since when did you become like a dad or something? You used to sleep for only two or three hours per night. Sometimes you don't even sleep at all." Lloyd reminds him in case he somehow forgot who he used to be.

Court chuckles lightly, shaking his head. "I haven't become a dad, Lloyd. I've just got more time to actually sleep more in a long time. And, you know, she has an early sleep routine, so." he says.

"Still, it's weird seeing you like this. Also, who knows? Maybe, you could become a dad in the future. It already suits you." Lloyd nicely remarks.

He's complimenting him. And subtly telling him that he'd be a good dad. With her. He'll just be mom and dad's friend who always visits the house. He's not a very good person to have children and he's completely aware of it.

"It's impossible for her to get pregnant, Lloyd. Scientifically. Her words." Six casually explains, already assuming that she's in his future.

He didn't even ask who with. He automatically thought of her because she's all he thinks about. He does see her in his own future even though he rarely thinks about the future itself. He's always thinking of the present and sometimes, the past.

Lloyd nods. "I know, but still. Miracles could happen."

Six frowns confusedly at him. "Since when do you believe in miracles?" he asks him.

He just shakes his head, not answering his question. He refuses to admit the truth to him. That she changed him. Really, truly changed him. The man hated false hopes, especially miracles. But she is the living example of a miracle and he witnessed it himself. "Whatever, go to sleep, Six." he tells him.

Court casually nods. "Okay, good night." he simply says, sliding his body lower and closer to her. His temple rests against hers before he plants a soft kiss on her head. He closes his eyes, relaxing under her touch as he drifts to sleep.

Lloyd stops typing on his laptop to stop and look at them. His two most favorite people on earth. Sleeping so peacefully like nothing else matters anymore. They both feel so safe and secure around him. Him, too. They're his only home. The only one that matters. He's the luckiest man alive to have both of them in his life. He sure feels very damn lucky.

It must be a miracle.

***

This morning is magical for her.

The sun is shining beautifully. Breakfast is served. Laughter fills the room. Her flowy sundress from yesterday is clinging onto her body again. The boys are right beside her, bickering playfully.

All her problems from yesterday went out of the window the second this morning started for her.

They're back home in their penthouse again. And they decided to spend today in their private indoor pool, on the third floor of their place. It has an enormous view of the city. They've never been here before. They checked out from their hotel pretty early in the morning so they could enjoy the rest of it here.

Lloyd ordered them breakfast. She made them fresh smoothies. Six carried everything from downstairs to here. She's sitting on one of the long pool benches between them. They haven't touched the water yet but they're definitely planning to. Either voluntarily or not.

"So, you know the picture I took of all of us last night, in the hotel room? Yeah, I'm going to print it out and put it in a photo frame for my room." Elle announces, her hands gesturing a picture frame.

"Almost like a polaroid." Lloyd remarks, smirking proudly at her for listening to him. His advice is starting to grow on her.

She looks at him and smiles, squinting her eyes through the sunlight reflecting from the huge window beside the infinity pool. "Yeah, exactly like a polaroid."

His lips curve into an actual genuine smile and somehow, he can't stop smiling like an idiot. "Right. So, who's going to dive in the water first?" Lloyd asks them.

Elle immediately shakes her head. "Not me. If you're pushing me in there, I'll punch you in your dick, Lloyd. I mean it." she warns, her index finger pointing at him.

Six lets out a loose laugh, adjusting his sunglasses. He's only in shorts and a thin navy shirt while leaning his back on the bench. "He enjoys that shit, Elle." he retorts, glancing over at them.

Lloyd's smile turns into a smirk, leaning closer to her. "Well, he's right, sunshine."

She smiles wider, her beautiful dimples showing. "Yeah, but you won't be able to handle my strength. I'd break your dick off, Hansen." she teases him in an innocent tone.

His hands rest on each side of her chair, trapping her. "You know I fucking can." Lloyd's voice turns low.

She rolls her eyes at him, hiding a smile before looking at the pool for a second. It is good weather to swim in. "Looks like we're jumping together, then." she whispers, caughting him off guard.

Lloyd frowns, about to protest but it's too late as she wraps her hands around his waist and pulls both of them to jump into the pool. She's too strong for him to handle sometimes. They both land inside the water, staying underwater for a while. Six chuckles softly from outside.

She opens her eyes underwater and he does too. Their clothes are floating and somehow, none of them want to get up. They stare into each other's eyes intensely as her heart starts to race. She doesn't get why this is turning her on so much. The tension between them is so thick even under the water. Her face gets closer to him before grabbing his jaw roughly and connecting her lips into his.

She kisses him passionately and wildly under the water, not giving a shit of anything else anymore. His hands wander on her ass, his lips biting hers into the kiss and they almost forgot that they've been holding their breath. She's immune to drowning and he's held his breath longer than a few couple of minutes.

Six frowns confusedly, wondering why it's taking them so long to get out of the water. He rises up from his bench and slowly dips himself inside the pool, the depth only reaching his shoulders. He might be too tall for this pool. He doesn't even remember when's the last time he's been in a pool for fun. Without trying to escape or fighting some guy or drowning someone.

He looks down at the water and squints his eyes to properly see what they're actually doing. Their bodies are both bent and sunken into the water while they're holding each other's bodies as their lips seem to be stuck together. They're making out underwater. What a romantic way to start the morning. He's so glad that they're finally close again after two weeks. He's proud of them. His lips form into a small smile at the sight of it.

Lloyd grasps her waist as he brings both of their bodies out of the water. Her lips are still attached to his and he pulls away from her to catch his breath. She giggles softly before realizing that Six is already behind them.

"Looked like a nice spot to makeout." Six remarks, suddenly completely different from how he usually is. He's loosening up, finally.

She turns around to him and immediately stares down at his lips. She is in heat. "Yeah, how long can you hold your breath for?" Elle asks him, breathlessly.

He casually shrugs. "Ten minutes, maybe? It's not the longest I've held my breath for but it's my maximum limit for now."

She nods, heavily breathing. "Good. Let's test that out." she demands and there's hesitation written all over his face. He doesn't want to turn this into a competition or something. He knows how competitive she and Lloyd are.

Lloyd snorts. "Trying to compare who's the best kisser underwater, Elle?" He taunts her and she rolls her eyes.

"Fuck off. You're just scared of a little competition, Lloyd. You always are." She coldly insults him and she is right.

He scoffs. "You're so mean sometimes. Meaner than me. Turns me on so much." Lloyd admits as she turns around to him. Somehow, he's attracted to women who are way worse than him. She made him realize that. He's never met anyone as bad as her.

She smirks, then smiles genuinely. Her smile is so fucking beautiful that it pains him. He won't be able to witness this smile forever. "I've never met anyone like you too." she confesses back.

Six swims closer to her, wrapping his hand around her waist and stares into the other man's eyes. "There's not going to be a competition, right? I'd like to just enjoy this morning peacefully."

He chuckles lightly. "See? You're starting to act like an old dad again." Lloyd taunts him.

She frowns, looking over her shoulder at him. "What does he mean by that?" she asks him.

Court smiles softly at her. "Just some stupid joke he made last night. I told him that I've been sleeping earlier than I've ever been and then he called me a dad." he explains.

Elle stops to think about that for a while. Even though it's just some silly joke, she wishes that it's true. She's never actually thought about them like that because it's too fast. They've only been together for a month. But a lot has happened and it has affected her life so much. They feel like home for her and they're the only family she has in the world. The only one who matters anyway. Maybe, if the circumstances were different, she'd want to start a family with them. She may not be capable of being a mom biologically, but there are millions of ways now. It just takes the right parents and a safe home.

She snaps herself back to reality, clearing her throat and smiling. "So, what's the agenda for today?" she asks him.

Lloyd smiles almost immediately. "Swimming. Eating. More swimming. Drinks by the balcony. Movies in the home theater. We haven't touched that room yet, you know, for actual movies." He lists all of them down, and refers to something else that happened a few weeks ago.

Her face grimaces into disgust and laughs. "Oh, please don't remind me of that. Hope you cleaned the carpets." she hopes he did.

Six frowns confusedly, trying to figure out what they're talking about until it dawns on him. The thing that happened in their home theater which he had to witness from the door. He laughs softly, shaking his head.

Lloyd laughs loosely at her, throwing his head back as he holds his stomach from laughing too hard. He can't recall the last time he laughed like this. They haven't had a good laugh for a while too because of what happened a few weeks ago and he's been avoiding her to give space. But, the mission yesterday made them closer again and she's grateful for that. Despite all the shit she's been through over this month, she got something good out of it. Them. Her real home.

She smiles faintly at him. "Seems like a good plan." She agrees on his agenda for today since there aren't any new missions yet. Denny gave her a short break after yesterday.

Six drops his head down to kiss her shoulder as he smiles against her skin. She giggles softly, her hand reaching out to his. Lloyd nods, his eyes quietly observing them and he starts to admire their bond. He could clearly see their deep connection for each other without even having to say anything. They could talk with their eyes and their touch.

That's something he wishes he could have one day with her. It will definitely take some time but he's willing to wait. For her. However long it takes. She's worth the wait. She's worth everything in the world to him. He could never find anyone as precious as her. Ever.

Court's eyes look up at him and he knows exactly what he's thinking. He always does. They have a strong bond, too.

***

Elle got out of the pool to get some more snacks and drinks upstairs while the guys remained inside the water. She grabbed a bathrobe with her as she took the elevator, still soaking wet.

But, she could care less about anything anymore. She's happy again. Finally after a while. There's no other problems between them. Everyone's being honest and open now. Lloyd isn't avoiding her anymore. Six is much happier too. They're closer than ever, Everything's all great as of this moment. Nothing could ever make their happy bubble burst.

Stepping out of the elevator, she walks into their kitchen to go to the fridge. As she opens it and takes out three cold water bottles, her phone on the counter top rings loudly. Her ringtone is very loud and irritating but it's effective for her ears to not miss a call. She places the bottles on the surface beside her phone before looking at the screen.

It's Denny again. Two times in less than twenty four hours now. What's wrong with him? He doesn't usually call his assets constantly and has their personal number. She isn't weirded out with all the casual stuff with him because she thinks it's normal. She doesn't know the real boundary between an asset and the chief.

She tilts her head to the side and frowns confusedly before picking up the call. Her ears are still wet so she puts him on speaker. "Yes? Did something happen?" she casually asks him.

He clears his throat through the call. "Are you alone? I have some classified information. It's sensitive." Denny immediately says, wasting no time.

She nods. "Yeah, I am. What is it?" she quickly responds.

He reviews the documents on his laptop. "Elle, that incident a few weeks ago was a set up from the local police and corrupt government officials. Lloyd wanted to investigate more and so did I. We worked together with our field agents there. They intentionally released those criminals so they'd find out who threw them into jail. However they failed to do so because Six eliminated them after they shot you. They did all this because they were scared of you. What you could do in the city. They'd rather hunt you down instead of doing their own job of catching the criminals. That's how corrupted they are." Denny informs her in his most serious tone she's ever heard.

Just as life was getting slightly better for her, it hit her like a thunder. Lloyd never told her anything about an investigation. He should've told her. This is important for her to know. She didn't think that the corruptors would go to these extreme lengths just to find out who was helping them do their job. They released them, gave them a loaded gun and told them to go to the local hospital to terrorize and harm innocents. Sick patients, doctors, nurses who were all uninvolved in this mess. The corruptors did not care about them. Only of themselves and their money. She needs to fix this sooner than she thought she would.

She runs her hand through her wet hair and exhales. "Why are you telling me this?" she softly asks him. She's back to being distressed again. Lloyd's known about the investigation for weeks and said nothing. Perhaps, he thinks she wouldn't be able to handle the truth.

Denny sighs. "I'm not supposed to but you deserve to know for your mission. So you could focus more on hunting them down instead of feeling bad after every mission, like yesterday. I can start giving you these missions when you're ready. You can do it all alone. You're capable of it. I know you are." he encourages her, trying to manipulate her into killing more corrupt politicians. He's a twisted man and he's not doing this for her. It's for himself. He's using her as his own personal weapon. It has been what he's always wanted the moment he first saw her.

This is the only time she's ever been so blind and naïve with someone. She can't think too far of his intentions because she's too angry to see it. Blinded with her own rage. Lloyd lied to her face. He clearly got all this information already from last night when he was reviewing paperwork. That's why he looked so serious and intense. She connected all the dots by now. She's too smart for him. She guesses he conveniently forgot about that fact. He was right when he said he'd fucked this up with her. He did it. He sabotaged whatever thing they had going on. He's ruined it already. He just messed up the one good thing in his life.

Elle nods to herself, leaning on the countertop with her hands on it. "Okay, give me a few weeks to prepare. Keep it classified and don't let Lloyd know about our mission." she seriously tells him. She's never been this tense before in her life.

"Of course. Whatever you need." Denny immediately answers before she ends the call.

In truth, Denny is so much worse than Lloyd. He uses people for his own gain but this time, it's different with her. He had to gain her trust first which was easy since she's inexperienced with the CIA and their tactics. He's fond of her, too. He likes how powerful she is and he sees her real potential. He could make her more than just some shadowy asset. She could work by his side. As an equal. He wants that with her. He could give her everything in the world. Anything that she wants, it can be hers. They could be so powerful together. So many things that they could accomplish in the world. It's his darkest fantasy.

She walks away from the kitchen counter and turns around to the view of the city. It's the same view that they're looking at upstairs too right now. She's contemplating on everything now and questioning if it's the right thing to do. But, there's no other option. They're too corrupted to be salvaged. The only language they understand is violence. They were responsible for that horrible, traumatic event that she had to endure. The horrific pain of eight bullets inside of her was unimaginable. Not to mention that Six had watched her suffer like that.

She's doing all this for a good cause, actually. If all the corruption in the city is gone, she can finally start a new life and a fresh start somewhere that's not here. Hopefully with Six, as well.

As for Lloyd, well, she's still trying to figure that out. She doesn't exactly want to let him go or leave him. She has cared too much about him to do that. She does genuinely enjoy his company despite his sociopathic tendencies. She actually got to know the real him and he isn't so bad after all. She likes how he takes care of her and would sacrifice the world just for her. He did save her life. She won't let this be the end of them. She'll secretly investigate why he did what he did. For now, she's giving him the benefit of the doubt. She won't let one single lie define him. She has trusted him enough.

And that's how badly she's fallen for him.

56 notes · View notes

bippot · 2 years

Note

I just saw a drawing Eddie with a tongue piercing and I have so many thoughts and none of them are holy

Link to the drawing

Summary: Eddie gets bored one night and decides to make himself more metal by sticking metal in his face. And, honestly, he has no idea how his girlfriend will react.

Ps. Please don't do this!! Get piercings done professionally.

Tags: lip piercing, Smut, Established Relationship, Gags, Handcuffs, Shameless Smut

Song Recommendation: Hurts So Good by John Mellencamp

Stranger Things, Eddie Munson Masterlist - here

Piercings are fucking rad. Everyone knows that. Admittedly, it is best if they're done by professionals in proper, sanitary conditions and not a grimy trailer at 2 am.

Eddie was bored. Bored out of his mind. Y/N was at her own house. Uncle Wayne was at work. All of the other Hellfire members would surely be asleep by now. So, Eddie was alone. And that's never a good thing.

Arriving at his house at around 10 on a lovely Saturday morning, Y/N let herself in as she often did and immediately saw a small, very drippy trail of blood leading to the bathroom. Oh no, what dumb shit has her boyfriend done now?

For the most part, the bathroom was clean. He'd managed to clear that bit up without much trouble. Originally, he'd intended to get rid of the trail but he felt lightheaded and needed to lie down before he had the chance to.

Moving into his room, Y/N gave his sleeping form an ocular pat down, a surveillance of sorts, just checking for where the injury was. She couldn't find it. Not for the life of her. Maybe it was because he was lying on his stomach. The wound could be hidden at this moment.

Waking him up by straddling his butt, she placed her hands on his shoulders, lightly rubbing and giving him a massage. He let out a low groan, slowly coming back to consciousness. When he opened his eyes and looked back, he found Y/N looking down at him.

"What the fuck did you do to yourself?" she asked.

Muttering into the pillow, he groggily replied, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Lie. Big fat lie.

"Show me your mouth."

"No."

"How have you gained a lisp overnight?"

Busted. He was absolutely busted. She lifted herself up a little so he could flip around to face her, grunting as he did so. He was still tired and sore. Why couldn't she have come later when he was up and ready? Not that he didn't want to see her. Of course he did. He just needed to come up with a good explanation for his actions, which he didn't have.

"Let me see."

"Nothing wrong with me."

"Let me see your mouth, Edward." She put a hand under his chin and used her thumb to carefully pull his bottom lip down, causing him to drop his jaw so she could see.

Swelled and still bright red, his tongue had a steel barbell stuck through it. Honestly, he hadn't done that bad of a job. Getting it professionally done would've been monumentally better though. How he got blood everywhere, she had no idea?

"You pierced your tongue," she stated, tilting his head from side to side, trying to look at it from every angle.

Desperately, he was trying to gauge her reaction. Did she like it? Would she hate it with a burning passion and decide to break up with him for it? That would suck. He didn't want that.

"I wanted a piercing," he declared sheepishly, shrugging dramatically.

"It looks painful."

"Yeah, it hurt like a bitch," he replied, rubbing his tongue against his teeth, still not accustomed to the feeling. "On my first go, I stopped half way."

He said it as if it were nothing. As if he couldn't have potentially fucked up so hard and lost all feeling in his tongue. Still, he could get an infection and that's not happening on her watch.

"Well, that explains the blood," she pointed out, relieved that it wasn't anything serious. "I'm glad that-"

"You should get one too," he blurted out, making her jump a little. "I think you would look cute with one."

Tentatively patting his cheek, she got up and went to the kitchen area. They had to have painkillers somewhere. She made sure to keep the rummaging noises to a minimum as Wayne was in bed after his night shift and she didn't want to wake him.

When she finally did find the painkillers in the back of the cabinet, she came back to the room with a cool glass of water and held it out Eddie, who gratefully accepted it as he sat up. "Thanks, babe."

"You do know that you're not supposed to smoke or drink for the next two weeks now."

"What!? Since when?" Truthfully, he knew absolutely nothing about piercing maintenance and just did it on a whim. It was like all those times he'd given himself tattoos. He never planned it. It was an impulse feeling.

"Fiona. You know Fiona, right?" He nodded. She was one of Y/N's friends that he met maybe twice. "She got hers done last month so that's the only thing we've heard about since then."

Still, that didn't answer his query. "What's that got to do with booze?"

"It irritates. Bad for the healing process."

Running his hands up her waist, he joked, "I can deal with irritation. I deal with you on a daily basis."

Placing a hand on top of chest, she playfully pushed him backwards onto the bed and leant down, brushing the tips of their noses together before coquetting, "But you love it when I irritate you."

True. It was what kept his constant state of arousal at a manageable level. He had to constantly be stimulated, otherwise he'd go mad.

Staring into her eyes, he said, "You're lucky I love you."

"I love you too, handsome."

As she straddled his lap, she lazily started placing sloppy kisses down his neck. It was a gesture of endearment more than anything, but it turned him on nonetheless. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as she began to softly nibble and lick his skin, causing his dick to get harder. God, he loved her.

When she finally stopped, he opened his eyes and looked into her face. She smiled, finally giving him a kiss on the lips that he returned wholeheartedly. He intertwined his fingers into her hair and tried to deepen it, pushing his tongue into her mouth.

"Ow!" He whined, rearing back quickly. Guess he couldn't deal with the irritation. "That hurts."

After quickly surveying if he'd actually done any damage, she let out a laugh and extra gently kissed his cheek.

"Don't laugh at me."

"Don't do idiotic things then." He grinned, loving the way she had made him feel. No matter how much he messed up, she still loved him. It was unconditional and he appreciated it more than he could ever tell her.

She rolled off his lap and stood up, leaving him a little disappointed as he watched her hips swaying seductively in front of him. "Where are you going?"

"Someone has to clear up all that blood."

"All that blood? It wasn't that much. You're over-exaggerating," he said, standing up and pulling his t-shirt off before following her into the kitchen. She smugly grinned as she looked at him over her shoulder and gestured to the trail. "Okay, so it's a little more than I thought."

"You, think? That's the first I've heard of that," she teased before collecting any cleaning equipment that he owned (which wasn't a lot). "Now help me clean up, you big baby."

With both of them working, it was gone in no time. Eddie couldn't help but look at her ass as she worked on her knees. The boner he was sporting before had gone down, but watching her had it threatening to pop back up at any second.

"Stop wiggling your ass so much," he groaned, earning a smirk from her as she glanced over her shoulder and winked. She had no idea that she'd been doing that, but she could use it. Use it to further annoy him.

Reaching back and slapping her own ass with her non-dominant hand, she listened as he let out a frustrated sigh. As her hand moved away, she flipped him off playfully. "You are having too much fun watching, so why would I stop?"

"Because I don't want to have to take responsibility if my uncle catches me fucking you on the kitchen floor."

"I'd love to see you try."

He had to turn his head and groan out loud. "You're determined to drive me insane aren't you?"

"It's my job." She continued her work, not looking at him as he stared daggers into her ass.

The minute, no, the second all traces of his botched attempt was clear, Eddie slung Y/N over his shoulder and made his way to his bedroom, putting a hand over her mouth to quiet the giggles that were bound to fall from her mouth. He flopped her onto the bed and hovered over her, waiting for her to calm down before he started to passionately kiss her, completely ignoring the pain in his tongue as he did so.

Slipping his hand up her shirt, he let his fingers brush over her bra, before he moved it out of the way and started to gently pinch her hardened nipple. She couldn't help but squirm under his touch, loving how his smile seemed to get the better of him every time she let out a quiet noise of pleasure from him.

Sliding his underwear off, he moved to lie beside her and groaned, "God, you're a brat, you know that?"

Another giggle escaped her as she crawled on top of him, straddling his thighs, her nails dancing down his chest as the other found its way to his cock. "I prefer the term 'sexy minx' myself."

"This is true," he agreed, playing with her hair as he tried unsuccessfully to ignore the pleasure she was giving him. His nonchalant manner faded quickly since she unhurriedly let her fingertip trace the entirety of his shaft, from his balls to his tip. He groaned, letting his head fall back as she began to move her hand up and down his shaft.

"You like that?" she whispered.

"Makes me crazy," he grumbled. She smiled mischievously before leaning down and giving him a light peck on the tip. He nearly jumped out of his skin, but she just laughed before taking him into her mouth. She took him in slowly, her eyes focusing on his as she gave him a look that screamed 'take me all you want'.

His hands found their way into her hair as he directed her movements on his cock. It wasn't long before he was begging her to take his arousal all the way down her throat. His hips moved restlessly, desperate for her mouth.

"Shh... we don't want to wake your uncle up, Eds," she reminded him, replacing her mouth with her hand as she spoke. The feeling of her fingertips moving up and down his length was driving him out of his mind.

"We're swapping. I'm about to cum all over your face," he informed her, halting her hand so they could switch places.

"You are not going down on me."

"Why?"

"Want to run the risk of an infection, you dumbass?" He really hadn't thought his piercing through. Still, it looked fucking sick. It would be fine. Surely it would be fine.

Yet, he pretended. "No, you're right. Yeah, that would be stupid," he said, giving her a smile that should've given away that he was planning on disobeying her.

"Good." Moving up, she let him flip them over and begin undressing her. Eddie didn't waste a second. He slid his fingers into her, delving into her wet core, finding her already damp and ready for him. He wasted no time in plunging in. His hand found her G-spot almost immediately. He pushed a few times and was rewarded with a quiet lustful moan.

"Fuck, so wet, princess," he whispered as her lips found their way to his neck, moaning into his skin as a way to muffle the sounds she was making. He began to speed up, keeping his movements steady and sure, focusing only on pleasing her. She was the only thing on his mind.

So, when she prepped, he retrieved the cuffs from his wall and slapped them around her wrists, restraining them above her head to his bed frame, leaving her unable to move.

"Beautiful," he complimented as his head moved down, pressing kisses to her bare body, going lower and lower until his nose rested on her arousal.

Before he could even think about starting to eat her out, she wiggled her leg up and gently pushed him in the forehead with the heel of her foot, chastising, "Stop being pussy mad and think for once."

"Pussy mad? You're saying I'm pussy mad?"

"Yeah."

Removing her foot from his head, he childishly retorted, "Fuck you, you're pussy mad."

Well, "I have a pussy and I'm getting mad, so yeah, guess I am."

Shit. Shit. He'd made her angry. That was not what he wanted to do. Oh shit. Oh fuck. Y/N angry was not a thing he liked seeing. He'd not seen it very often. Stopping his attempt, he panicked and asked, "Wha- why are you mad?"

Men. Men are idiots.

"Because my boyfriend isn't listening to me." She let out an exasperated sigh and gave her best puppy eyes as she explained, "Just hold off for 2 weeks, and after that? You can eat me out all you want."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die," she swore and totally would've done the action if she had free use of her hands. But the good news was that he gave in. He'd promised to wait for a few weeks.

And wait he did. That didn't mean he wasn't impatient. Every moment they were alone, he was either whining about his new life as a pierced man or whining that she wouldn't let him go down on her. He couldn't take it anymore. As soon as the two weeks were up, exactly at 12 am, Eddie arrived at her house. She'd been awake and heard the familiar rumbling of his van.

Letting him quietly through the backdoor to not wake her parents up, they crept up to her room and as soon as her door closed, he practically pounced on her, kissing her deeply. "Two weeks are up, sweet cheeks."

Seconds before she could reply, he went back in for a passionate kiss, backing her up towards her bed and pushing her down against the mattress.

"Take off my clothes," she told him, a grin on her face. So he did just that, slowly undressing her before taking off his own clothes and joining her on the bed. With one final kiss on the lips, he trailed his hands up her legs, finding her sensitive clit with his mouth and giving an affectionate lick. She let out a small squeal, her head falling back as her back arched.

The addition of the cool metal bar in his mouth was different. A good different, but still a strange difference. It made his movements more forceful and the coldness of it made her shiver. He kept his movements slow, soothing and gentle, moving his mouth over her clit so she could feel every part of his tongue, both hands clamping down on her waist, his thumbs caressing her skin as she rode his face.

And, she was getting louder and louder.

Usually, he was the one with the noise issue. But today? Whatever he was doing, whatever was new, she seemed to really like. Maybe she was too loud? He could rectify that. Quickly grabbing her panties that were still around her ankle, he ordered, "Open your mouth," and stuffed them between her lips when she did as he said.

It must've been a record. A record of how fast he made her unravel on his tongue. The friction and the taste of her arousal made his dick throb with excitement. He continued to focus on her pleasure until she begged him to stop, which was clear by the way she whined into the gag.

Pulling the underwear out of her mouth, she looked at him with adoration and panted, "Holy fuck, that was… wow."

"I take it you like that, huh?" he asked, basking in her approval.

"Oh, you have no idea." She awkwardly moved her tongue around in her mouth, the fabric of her underwear having depleted all of the moisture from it. "Not going to lie, my mouth feels like the fucking Sahara though."

"Want me to spit in it?" He joked, fully thinking she'd understand that he was just messing about. So, when she opened her mouth once more and stuck her tongue out, he couldn't believe his luck. He leaned in and spat in her mouth before bringing her into another kiss.

"You know the drill," she commented, getting out from under him and moving to the rug she had by her bed. Her bed was way too creaky. Without waiting for him because she knew he'd follow, she lay down on the comfy fabric and watched as he removed his underwear, complimenting, "Nice ass."

"You say that every time." He got to his knees and loomed over her, staring down at her naked body and taking in her perfect features.

"It must be true then." She pulled neck down to kiss her way from his jaw, his ear, up to his cheek before running her hands along his collar bone. When she got to his lips, her fingertips lightly stroking his bottom lip, she said, "Come on, we don't have all night."

"So impatient, baby." He lifted her hips and with one long stroke, he pushed into her needy body, entering her in one smooth motion. She closed her eyes, relishing in the feeling of him so deep inside of her, the hard length of him rubbing against her most sensitive spot.

He set a steady, slow tempo, never rushing, always being deliberate. He let her get as comfortable as she needed, letting her legs come up around his waist and his hands moved to hers, pushing them into the rug beneath them as he increased the pace of his thrusts.

Putting her hand over his mouth before a moan could escape his lips, she warned, "Do I need to get the underwear?"

"No," he groaned in reply, his voice muffled by her fingers. He gave a few more long, deep strokes and soon, he was pounding into her, his movements growing faster and faster. She pulled his hair, digging her nails into his scalp as she took his cock, taking him deeper and deeper inside of herself.

Not breaking the rhythm, he reached down and grabbed her ass with both of his hands, moving her up and down on his erection in perfect unison, until she breathlessly whispered, "Gonna come, Eds."

Just before she came, he squeezed her ass cheek, holding her in place as he fucked her with hard, fast strokes. She came for him, her body tensing in orgasm, her inner muscles squeezing tightly around his cock. With his heart thundering in his chest, and sweat dripping down his body, he came seconds later.

They stayed that way, entwined, for several minutes. She was still catching her breath when he asked, "So, the piercing? You like it?"

"Mmm… I do." She smiled and snuggled closer to him, their naked bodies pressed together, her leg thrown over his thigh, her hand resting on his chest. "I really like it. A lot."

"Good," he said with a grin. "I really like you liking it."

The pair got redressed and climbed into bed just in case they fell asleep and her parents walked in. They'd be able to deny that they did anything if they were clothed. Or at least they'd have a chance to lie.

Resting her forehead on his chest, Y/N listened to Eddie's heart beating and his deep breaths. He'd already fallen asleep, but she was still awake, content in his arms. She smiled and closed her eyes, and soon, she too was fast asleep.

#eddie munson & reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader

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