#and god help me if i decide to make a decision without consulting her first

[sopebubbles]

Chapter 8

<- master list ->

Chapter summary: Jimin and the boys deliver the news to Y/N...and the world

Warnings: none :)

WC: 3k

You opt for passing time in the living room, since the curtains in the guest room let in too much light. After eating some reheated leftovers from last night, for a while you try to read through comments on Twitter, and even though quite a large percentage are kind and supportive of Jimin, it's not long before your eyeballs are throbbing and causing your head incredible pain, so you give it up. You fall asleep again for a while after Mochi settles until you hear the front door opening and you suddenly jolt awake. You couldn't have expected to be greeted with six out of seven members of BTS when Jimin flicks on the lights.

"How are you?" Jimin asks when he sees how you wince.

"I'm fine. You didn't have to bring all this muscle to get me out. My bag's already packed," you mumble. You didn't think the prospect of leaving was going to hurt as bad as it does. "I guess they'll want to be sure though."

Jimin chuckles and shakes his head as he sits on the couch in front of you. "You're not going anywhere, Y/N."

Your eyes, which were on your belly before, lift up to look at him. "I'm not?"

"Not as long as I can help it," he smiles back. 

"Why not?" Your face scrunches in confusion. 

"Because your new boyfriend here drove a hard bargain," Hoseok chimes in. 

"Boyfriend?" Your head turns to Hoseok, the look of confusion deepening on your face, but he just giggles. Then you feel Jimin take your hand to draw your attention back to him. 

"Here's the thing, Y/N. The company has decided-"

"More like agreed," Yoongi interjects. 

"Shut up. That it would be best if we confirm the rumors and tell the world I'm your boyfriend and the father of your baby." You can see in Jimin's face that he's nervous for your reaction, but your only reaction is to become more confused. 

You blink at him a few times. "But that's a lie."

"I lie that costs the company less money than the truth," Taehyung adds before receiving a smack from Jin.

"But if we're saying you're the father, then what about- how does Jeongguk feel about this?" You ask loudly, searching for the man as he hides behind the others.

"See this is what's great about Y/N," the youngest responds. "She's the first person to ask how does Guk feel about this? Guk is angry."

"Gukkie-"

"Don't Gukkie me, Jimin! You're taking my child from me!" Jeongguk shouts, which has you clutching your head once again.

"Jeongguk, lower your voice," Jimin warns. He stands up to look his brother in the eyes. "I have no intention of taking your child away from you. Yes, to the world I will be her father, but I promise she'll always know the truth and if you stay involved like you ought to there's no reason it should seem any different to her."

"Oh my god, my baby is gonna be so fucked up," you groan, and for some reason that makes Yoongi laugh. "Don't I get any say in this?"

Jimin looks down at you. He does feel bad for making this decision without consulting you. But he didn't feel as though he had a lot of choice and he knew you wouldn't agree before it was approved.

"Yeah, Y/N. Of course you have a choice. I won't make you go along with this. But the only other choice is to leave and never look back. It would mean Jeongguk never gets to know his kid, and losing a family that wants to support you."

At that you see four other heads nod behind Jimin.

"For what it's worth, I don't want to miss out on my niece or nephew. And I'd be more than happy to help in any way I can," Taehyung speaks up. 

"And my wife Ari is an expert in all things baby. My kids will love their new cousin, too," Jin tells you happily. 

"And Hobi and I don't really have anything to offer, but we don't want to see you go either," Yoongi smirks. 

"I have things to offer…" Hobi mutters. 

"Like what?" Yoongi fires back. 

"Like… money," he chuckles. Meanwhile Jeongguk muscles past Jimin to sit on the couch with you. 

"Look, Y/N, I know that I'm basically the bad guy here, but for what it's worth, today really showed me that I don't want to lose my child. Not for a moment. I want to be involved every step of the way. I don't want to miss his or her life. I'm sorry that this insane plan of Jimin's is the only way we can do that now, but I promise I'll do anything to make that up to you."

"Okay, well, now I'm not feeling like I have much of a choice," you sigh. But that's okay because as insane of an idea as fake dating Jimin is, it's still a better option than having to disappear, and you guess having two fathers is better than having none. You realize everyone is still looking at you, waiting for an answer. "We don't have to get married do we?"

"Uh. No." Jimin bites his lips. 

"Not yet anyway," Taehyung mutters to the others, eliciting masked laughter. 

"Fine. I'll go along with this whole relationship thing," you grumble.

There's a tangible sense of relief in the room at your words and Yoongi and Hoseok both clap. "I'm going home for a nap," Yoongi informs you all. "Welcome to the family, Y/N." He gives you a quick thumbs up before he heads for the front door. 

Hobi comes to fall on the couch and gives you a tight hug from the side. "We'll have time to get to know each other later. Today might be a bit much," he says before he gets up to catch up with Yoongi. "Oh! And you should check out my sister's YouTube videos. She vlogged her whole pregnancy!" He slips out the door before you can tell him you've already watched them.

"Y/N," Jin starts cheerily as he fills the space left by Hoseok. "Jimin told me about your condition. My wife had that the first time. Would you like me to show you some dishes to add to your diet?" Jin offers. 

"Now?" Your eyes widen at him. 

"Sure! I mean, assuming Jimin has anything in his refrigerator. You've gotta eat," Jin reminds you. 

"Don't tire her too much, hyung," Jimin warns as the eldest helps you off the couch. 

"Don't fuss," you respond, almost missing the way Jeongguk leaves the apartment, doing his best to go undetected. You think for a moment that you should stop him, but the look on his face suggests he needs some time to think. Besides, you have to remind yourself that there's nothing you really owe him beyond what you've already promised.

As Jin pulls you to the kitchen to prepare lunch, Taehyung talks to Jimin about how he'll do his live.

"You were quite convincing in the meeting today," Tae tells him. "If we hadn't all known the facts we might have believed you. I think that investment guy fell for it. But for ARMY you'll have to do it with a little less aggression."

"Of course," Jimin nods nervously. He's still afraid that you're mad at him, but he is also sad about lying to ARMY. He can't help thinking about all the fans who had jumped to his defense to say he would never hide something from them. But it had to be done. He just hopes it won't all be for nothing. 

"It's gonna work out in the end, Jimin-ah," Tae reassures him, reading his expression perfectly. "And this will bring you closer together, so eventually you can be together for real."

Jimin's eyes snap to Taehyung's and give him a questioning look. 

"Don't bother lying to me or yourself, Jimin. It was just yesterday I let you ramble on about her for 20 minutes. You're falling in love with her. And it's scary because this situation is complicated, but at least now if you let yourself get even closer to her it will only help."

Jimin can only shake his head. "It feels wrong when you put it like that. Like I meant to trap her or something."

"Maybe on a subconscious level you did. Maybe you wanted to secure your future happiness. Maybe you just didn't want to lose her. Either way, don't let the opportunity slip through your fingers now." Tae gives the smaller man's shoulder a squeeze. "But anyway the only reason I even brought it up was to say that you should let those feelings guide you when you talk about her. It will make it easier to tell the parts that aren't true. People will ask you about her. Just let your feelings for her show when you talk about her and no one will doubt it."

Jimin sighs and hangs his head in his hands. Despite the fact that he's saved the day in the bigger picture, he can't escape the guilty feeling of forcing you to take part in the lie as well. He fears it will only make you resent him. 

"Why don't you just sit and watch for now," Jin suggests when you admit to being a bit dizzy. Hearing this Jimin pushes aside his more nebulous anxieties about the future to focus on the worries right in front of him.

"Do you want to go lay down? I can get the instructions from Jin hyung," Jimin offers with a soothing hand on your back.

You flash him a small smile that relaxes and excites him at the same time. At the very least you must not be very angry with him. "I'm okay. Just a little dizzy standing. As soon as I lay down mochi will decide to have a party anyway."

Jimin grins brightly. "She's going to be a little trouble maker isn't she?"

"She already is," you agree.

"Ha! Got you to say she again!" Jimin points out proudly and you just roll your eyes.

"Jimin-ssi, it doesn't matter what they are. We'll love them no matter who they turn out to be." Your hands rub your belly fondly.

"I'm telling you, hyung, it's going to be a girl. I can feel it." 

Jimin turns to Jin to hear his take, but the oldest member is merely staring at the two of you. He's stunned to find just how close you two really are. He hadn't expected something so comfortable between the two of you. He knew Jimin had been helping you a lot, and that you were accepting it (mostly), but he had no idea that when he saw you genuinely interact that you'd seem so much like….well, a couple. You were certainly convincing as one and you weren't even trying to pretend for him. For a moment, he could see a happy little family forming before he remembered what a fantasy it all was. Jin pushed the topic from his mind, never addressing the gender issue, and finished creating his healthy meal. When it was finished he left it for the two of you to share and offered to drive Taehyung home, leaving you alone.

"I'll have to go live in a little bit to confirm our relationship," Jimin says quietly after countless minutes pass in semi-awkward silence.

"I don't have to go on, do I?" You feel a moment of panic at the thought. 

"No, you'd better stay far away," he assures you, and you sigh in relief. Another minute passes while Jimin watches you pick at your food without raising any of it to your mouth. 

"I'll do my best to shield you and Mochi from any hate," he promises. "But.."

"It's inevitable," you shrug. Really the thought had only barely occurred to you.

"Tell me what's worrying you?" His tone is pleading and his eyes soft, almost desperate. It's rare that so much silence exists between you and he'd rather hear all your terrible thoughts than feel as distant as he feels from you right now.

You give him a sad smile. "Honestly there are so many things, it's hard to hold on to one long enough to dwell on it. It's probably just the concussion." You turn away from his sad eyes and back to your food. 

"Y/N," he starts, his voice catching nervously in his throat. "I understand if you're mad at me for this. I should have talked to you, but I honestly wasn't sure how it was going to go or what I would do until I walked into that meeting and-"

"I'm not mad at you, Jimin," you assure him softly.

"You're not?"

You look at him with a weak smile. "I understand why you did it. You want us to be part of your family. And that's something I can't offer Mochi on my own. If I were to go away, we would be completely alone in the world. No grandparents or cousins or aunts and uncles. And I don't want them to grow up without a father. So, as messy as this is going to be, it's better to have a dozen people who love them rather than just me. You're giving them that. I'm not mad."

When you're finished, Jimin goes over some details with you to 'get your story straight' and then he helps you to bed so you can rest your eyes. You can hear his voice in the living room as he goes live.

"Annyeonghaseyo, ARMY," Jimin greets calmly, having to force his usual smiling yet shy demeanor a bit. His eyes flicker around the screen as he goes silent for several seconds, watching as the number of viewers climb and the hearts sent his way soar. He watches comments scroll by greeting him and many giving messages of support.

"Many of you assumed I'm here to talk about the pictures from last night. I'm here to tell you the truth. The woman I was with last night is my girlfriend, Y/N. And yes, she's seven months pregnant with our child."

In his apartment one floor above, Jeongguk sits on his couch, clutching a glass of vodka in one hand while the other grips his phone so tight he thinks he might crack the screen. He feels like less than nothing. Some deep biological instinct roars inside of him, at him, why couldn't he be the one to put aside his own vanity and his career, just so that the world could know he was the one who had created what he was sure was the most perfect child growing within you. 

"I'm so sorry that I kept this from you, ARMY," Jimin continues to speak to millions, his voice wavering sincerely from his guilt for lying about the lie. "Y/N and I have been together for two years. The reason we didn't tell anyone is because she works at HYBE and female employees are forbidden from dating idols. Y/N is so good at her job and we didn't want to risk her losing it, so we kept our relationship hidden. Sometimes you just have to do whatever it takes for love. I hope you can forgive me."

Jimin pauses again as he reads some of the comments flying by. Surely some of them are messages of disapproval and repudiation, but the only ones he seems to grasp onto are the messages of love. Purple hearts adorn most of them. 

"Borahae," Jimin smiles brightly into the camera. "Y/N? No, she won't be coming on the live today. She's resting because she's injured. That's why we were at the hospital yesterday. Please, everyone, I beg you to be respectful of her privacy and her safety." More comments come in echoing your and Jimin's right to privacy and how any true fan would leave you in peace. "Y/N is wonderful! I'm sure you'd all love her. Many of you probably do without even knowing because she's a producer on Run BTS so she's probably made some of your favorite episodes."

Jimin answers a few more benign questions about the two of you and your baby - for now we just call it Mochi - and then he signs off. Once he's sure everything is powered off and put away he comes back into your room. 

"I think that went pretty well," Jimin says cheerfully from the doorway when he sees you haven't fallen asleep. You nod at him. "Do you need anything? Feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," you nod again. "I've been laying here trying to do a kick count, but I keep getting distracted and losing count."

"I-is that something I can help with?" Jimin wonders, not sure what you're even talking about.

You shrug. "I don't see why not. As long as you don't mind laying down with us for a while."

Jimin smiles wide. "I don't mind at all." Jimin comes around the bed to climb into the spot he slept in last night. "What do I need to do?"

"Just put your hand here." You take his hand and press his palm against where you have been having lots of movement today. "And each time you think you feel movement, you count it. It doesn't have to be a kick or punch. If you think you feel it just count it. Hopefully we get 10 in an hour." 

Jimin looks at his phone to check the time. "Alright," he whispers and the two of you fall silent once again, although it's a bit more comfortable now. For an immeasurable moment the two of you lay watching each other's faces. Jimin counts aloud when he feels a movement, but his eyes never leave your face as he studies it carefully. Eventually your eyes begin to close, but still his never leave your features. As soon as he counts ten, he lets his eyes close too and falls asleep beside you.

Taglist: @halesandy @burningupp-replies @lilacdreams-00 @minclangyyy @yoongiofmine @yonkimint @wholockian1 @cbgdoll @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @armytwist @hwayne2294 @aurel1ia @n4mina @juju-227592 @mickmoon @yoongicenterofmyuniverse @likeshatteredrainbowglass @softforpj @chimchimsauce @arikimtanapon @outro-kook @ellesalazar @somewhereinthestarss @cscam @svgahigh @defcv28 @shydestinyyouth @bbl32 @eternally-writing-main @craftymoonchaos @chimchimmarie @sweetcheeksdna @lovelytaes-blog @mwitsmejk @cursedcursives @ncizen @elliegrace1999tvd @miffy1997 @borahae-reads @mattsunsupremacy @brit97 @heyjiminnie @natalie-rdr @lovergirl1316 @bulletproofpjm @lalisala @blueeyedlove-blog1 @ceyoongs

#bts fic #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts idol au #bts pregnancy au #bts dad au #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jimin idol au #jimin series #jimin pregnancy au #jimin angst #jimin fluff #jungkook idol au #jungkook pregnancy au #jungkook angst #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #bts yoongi #bts jin #bts hoseok #bts namjoon #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts jungkook #serendipity au #sopebubbles

[spencers-renaissance]

I found my way home

Summary: After Spencer tells Hotch about his recent autism diagnosis, he expects that to be the end of it. Somehow, though, it keeps coming up, and Hotch keeps proving himself to be the best father figure he could have asked for. 

Tags: autistic spencer, protective hotch, hurt/comfort, fluff, paternal hotch, team as family

TW: mentions of ableism, one small instance of ableism & homophobia 

Pairing: Gen 

Word Count: 4.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

This was borne from my conversations with @criminalmindsvibez about the lack of autistic spencer fics and her amazing headcanons. While I'm not autistic, Emily is, and helped me to portray Spencer's autism as accurately as possible. That said, please feel free to correct me on anything I got wrong :)

Spencer had made an effort to get into work even earlier than usual today. He’d ridden the metro through the city, dipping his hand into his messenger bag every few minutes to compulsively check that the slim letter he’d received in the post the other day is still in the front pocket where he’d safely placed it that morning. He brushes his fingers over the paper once more as he enters the near-empty bullpen, the letter cool from the winter air.

It’s still so surreal to him that this is where he works. After years of dreaming of working for the FBI he’s finally here, and even though it’s been his place of work for almost two months now, he’s still not used to it. The warm offices are a nice reprieve from the wintry December wind, and he can feel himself relaxing as he heads to his desk. Leaving his coat and messenger bag on his chair, he pulls the letter out of the front pocket and runs his index finger along the edge. He finds himself biting his bottom lip as he tries to work up the courage to go and see Hotch. 

Sucking in a deep breath, he marches determinedly up to Hotch’s office, entering as soon as his knocks are answered. 

“Reid,” Hotch says pleasantly as he takes a seat opposite his desk, realising belatedly that he probably should have waited until he was invited. “You’re in early. What can I do for you?”

Nervously, Spencer hands him the letter he’d couriered across the city so carefully. He’d taken care to open it neatly with his letter opener but the return address on the back has been stamped at a crooked angle, and it bothers him every time he notices it. He can’t stop looking at it now as he taps his fingers anxiously against his leg in the pattern of the Fibonacci sequence, a safe and familiar reassurance played out by his nervous fingers. He watches apprehensively as Hotch pulls the letter out of the envelope, unfolding it and skimming his eyes down the page, taking in the news Spencer’s been so anxious to share with him.

Diagnosis: Asperger’s Syndrome

God, it had been a long process. He’d had to seek out a doctor in DC who diagnosed adults, paid for all the consultations and diagnostics himself — his insurance certainly wouldn’t cover it, not that he’d feel comfortable using his cushy FBI insurance for something so personal anyway — and the whole process had taken far longer than he’d expected. Finally, though, the envelope had arrived in the mail, and he officially had a diagnosis. 

Of course, he’d had his suspicions for years, especially after one of his professors during his second PhD had casually asked whether he’d ever been tested, planting a seed in his brain that led to many late nights in the library, reading all the literature available to him. It’s why he’d found it strange that it had felt so validating to finally receive that letter in the post. But it had.

The label made sense, and now that he had a diagnosis from a medical professional he felt comfortable to share it with others; he’d been far too paranoid about being questioned, not being believed or lectured about the evils of self-diagnosis no matter how he was confident in himself. He didn’t tend to be an insecure or self-conscious person, but after years of bullying and trauma surrounding what he now knew for sure to be his autistic traits, he couldn’t help but feel almost protective of his affirming label. 

Now though, it’s an irrefutable statement. Dr Spencer Reid has autism, and the first person he wants to tell is Hotch.

“I had no idea you were getting tested, Reid,” Hotch says, a hint of surprise bleeding into his voice. “Is there any specific reason you wanted to share this with me?”

“Well… I felt like someone on the team should know,” Spencer starts carefully, afraid to give too much of himself away, “and I thought that someone in a leadership position was the best option. Gideon has never been very… supportive of my autistic traits or behaviour, so I thought that you— that you would be the best option.” He feels awkward, fidgeting in his chair as he watches Hotch’s serious face and kind eyes absorb the information. 

“That trust in me means a lot, Reid,” he says, a rare smile making its way onto his face. In that moment, Spencer knows he made the right decision. “How can I make things easier for you? Is there anything you need me to be doing differently?”

“Uh—” He hadn’t really been anticipating that question and it catches him off guard: he’d predicted a quick nod of acknowledgement, a request to photocopy the letter so it can be put on file followed by a swift dismissal, but the letter is now sitting on his side of the desk: clearly, Hotch intends on keeping this between them. This is far from what he expected.

“Why don’t you start by telling me about autism and how it might affect your work?” Hotch corrects himself, recognising quickly Spencer’s need for specifics. “I’ll admit I don’t know much beyond some probably rather unhelpful stereotypes.”

Spencer nods. He can answer that question. “As everyone knows I often go off on tangents,” he begins, “and that’s because my special interests — or hyperfixations — often coincide with our work, so I know a lot about the topics we’re investigating. If I do that, just redirect me to the case and I’ll be fine. It’s also really hard for me to have to present myself in a certain way all the time. Vocal stims and gestures are the most satisfying to me but I often have to mask them, which I’ve never been very good at anyway, and it’s fairly exhausting. That’s why I often excuse myself; I go to the bathroom or a secluded hallway and stim on my own. My doctor also told me I tend to overcompensate in social situations and over-perform emotion. Those are the basics, I guess, but it’s a very complex disorder and since it makes up me as a human being, I can’t exactly explain all of it in one conversation.”

“No, that’s fine, Reid, you’ve given me a good picture of what to expect, thank you.” Hotch smiles at him, fondness in the crinkles around his eyes and the softness invading his usually stern expression. “First of all, you never have to feel like you need to excuse yourself to stim. Do you think it would be helpful if we told the rest of the team so they know what to expect? I’m assuming vocal stims are saying certain words or making sounds…?”

Spencer nods. 

“Okay, so if you needed to do that we could just continue the conversation while you get it out of your system. Gestures certainly wouldn’t be a problem. How do you feel about that?”

He hadn’t really considered telling the rest of the team but it seemed sort of intimidating, like he’d be opening a vulnerable side of himself to people he didn’t even know that well. On the other hand, they’d all been so understanding of his quirks and odd behaviour so far without even knowing the reason behind it. He’d never once been made to feel the way he used to at school, forced to either pretend to be someone else completely or be isolated and ostracised. 

He settles for, “I’ll think about it.” 

“That’s fine. There’s no pressure,” Hotch assures him. “I’m very happy you told me, Reid. I hope you know you can come and talk to me about anything, whether it’s about this or something completely different.”

Spencer leaves his office with the letter back in his hands, no notes or copies having been made, feeling almost elated. Never in a million years would he have expected that to go so well. 

⭐️

He doesn’t really expect it to come up again. He’d told Hotch so that he could understand him a bit better, and also because Hotch had quickly assumed a protective, almost paternal role in his life and he wanted to share the piece of news with him whether he was leading his department or not. That was supposed to be it, though, he didn't think anything would materially change, especially since he decided not to tell the team about the diagnosis just yet.

But almost immediately after he’d told Hotch his diagnosis, his rambles began to be gently redirected back to the case, sometimes without him even noticing. He wasn’t rudely cut off by anyone anymore, Hotch always steering him back on course before anyone else can jump in and hurt Spencer’s feelings. It’s so… kind that it almost feels foreign, and he finds himself gravitating towards the older man more and more, sitting next to him on every jet journey and staying glued to his side during cases. 

His newfound protectiveness over Spencer is only demonstrated more clearly a few months after their conversation in Hotch’s office when they’re on their way to New Mexico for a case. The second he spots that the murder victims had all been found with different Fitzgerald quotes scrawled on sheets of paper found in their own personal notebooks, ripped out and left for investigating officers to find, he launches into an info-dump to rival info-dumps. 

He can’t help that literature is a special interest of his, made all the more intense by the fond childhood memories of reading to his mother in her bed. Fitzgerald had been her favourite author of the Modern Era, and he’d spent hours analysing significant passages in his novels as a child, so he starts explaining the literary merit of each of the quotes left at the crime scenes. 

Apparently, he doesn’t hear the first two times Hotch tries to direct him back on topic, but he hears it when Gideon shouts, “Spencer! Long and unnecessary tangents are not conducive to actually solving these cases. Get back on topic. Now.” He’s loud enough to briefly knock him back several decades to memories of his father screaming at his mother’s schizophrenic babbling, when she’d become convinced that the villains of her favourite novels were trying to break into the house.

Spencer stops mid-sentence and stares at Gideon, who is staring right back. Everyone’s watching the two awkwardly, but the short moment of silence is quickly broken by Hotch. “There is absolutely no need to be that rude, Jason,” he says disapprovingly, while he lays a hand on Spencer’s arm in a light, absent-minded sort of touch. “Reid may have been off-topic but he deserves respect just like everyone else on this team. Nobody needs to be shouted at like that.” He directs his attention back to Spencer. “Why don’t you tell us how those Fitzgerald quotes could help us solve the case, Reid?” 

He gives him an encouraging look, and when he looks around the jet, everyone else is, too. Carefully, he starts speaking again, a little afraid of being cut off again, but after a few sentences of relevant explanation he regains his momentum. It’s more than a little vindicating when it’s his ‘unnecessary tangent’ that ends up being the key to cracking the case. 

⭐️

Soon after Hotch’s split from Haley, he approaches Spencer one evening when they’re the only two left at the office with a dinner invitation. Within the hour, they walk into a nice, low-key Italian place in the city and take a seat in the far corner of the restaurant. 

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks a little uncertainly, confused as to why his boss is suddenly taking him for dinner. 

“I had this idea almost as soon as you told me about your autism,” Hotch explains, knowing by now that preambles and niceties only frustrate Spencer instead of setting him at ease. “I wanted to take you out for dinner every week to try and give you a space to ramble about all your special interests and not feel like you have to mask around everyone. But when I was with Haley, all my personal time was obviously spent with her and Jack. Now, I have the time to dedicate to you and all the incredible knowledge you’re hoarding in that brain of yours.”

“Really?” Spencer asks excitedly. The idea of uninhibited space to talk about the recent knowledge he’s acquired and not have to feel insecure or worry about performing social skills he doesn’t see the point of is everything he’s ever wished for, and something so wonderful being provided by Hotch only makes it better. 

“Really.”

Spencer wastes no time. He dives right in. “I was just watching a documentary the other day about volcanoes and their ability to trigger lightning storms with their voltage,” he begins. “Basically, magma rises toward the volcano’s surface, its water rapidly turns to vapor, which shatters the molten rock into tiny particles and creates charged particles. When the ash plume erupts into the atmosphere, the densely packed particles collide, driven by momentum. Friction then affects their electrons, becoming electrically charged. Positively and negatively charged electrons separate in the ash plume which creates a charge imbalance that builds an electric charge strong enough to trigger a lightning storm.” 

“That’s incredible.”

“I know,” Spencer says excitedly. “If the ash plume rises high enough in the atmosphere ice forms, and when ice, hail, and supercooled liquid droplets collide, the rates of lightning explode, it’s crazy.”

They’re briefly interrupted by a waitress taking their orders, but as soon as she leaves, Hotch gets him to jump back in. “What about that lecture you attended last week… the literature of 18th Century England or something?”

“19th Century English Lit, yeah!” He’s so eager to finally share this with somebody who will genuinely listen to him, and he can’t help it when his arms start to flap excitedly. Remembering where he is, he doesn’t try to mask it, pin his arms to his sides and simply deal with and suppress the innate urge to stim, he lets his body do what it wants to. Instead of eliciting a strange, sideways look, Hotch just smiles fondly.  

“The lecturer had this fascinating theory on Dickens. I’ve always seen him as a pretty straight forward author of picaresque fiction, obviously combined with facets of melodrama. And it’s common knowledge that he was inspired by the novel of sensibility, of course. But I’d never thought about the stylistic and lexical choices in his works beyond standard analysis, and this lecturer went on a deep dive into his use of collocation and it opened my eyes…”

He spends the whole evening stimming to his heart’s content while detailing every current interest of his to Hotch, who simply listened intently while eating his meal slowly, dragging out the meal for as long as Spencer needed. “Let me give you a lift home,” Hotch insists after footing the bill, leading him out into the warm evening air.

“Oh, I don’t mind taking the metro,” he replies truthfully. 

“I know. But it would make me feel better to drop you home safely. It’s late and seeing you into your apartment building would give me peace of mind.”

“Sure,” Spencer agrees happily, he’s still buzzing from such a nice evening and the least he can do for Hotch is let him rest easy tonight, so he climbs into the passenger side of his car. A few minutes into the car ride home, he realises he should probably actually verbalise just how much he enjoyed dinner. “Thank you, Hotch. I don’t think anybody’s ever done something so nice for me before.”

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” Hotch replies, smiling even though he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. Spencer very much likes it when Hotch uses his first name, and he’d been doing it all evening. He doesn’t really understand why it feels so nice, just that it makes him feel… special, maybe.

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he repeats, before freezing as he realises what he’s said. He’s got so used to not masking all evening, he’s not in the right rhythm and mindset to suppress the urge to repeat Hotch’s words. He’s been so nice the whole evening, the last thing Spencer wants is for Hotch to think he’s mocking him. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hotch reassures him, tapping his arm lightly as he smiles encouragingly. 

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he says again, repeating it a few times in relief before the itch is satisfied. He really does have the best boss/friend in the whole world. There’s no doubt about that. 

⭐️

Rossi’s initial reaction to Spencer had admittedly been a bit rocky, and having Hotch undeniably on his side was the only thing that made those first few months bearable. He never let them go off on their own; never put Spencer in a position where he’d have to be alone with him. Gradually, though, Rossi adjusted to his quirks and he became almost as protective of Spencer as Hotch.

That doesn’t bode well for the local sheriff when they’re on a case in North Carolina. He’s been prickly since they arrived, being as stubborn and uncooperative as possible, slowing down their progress on actually solving the case, and Spencer’s noticed him being a little extra rude to him in particular. It doesn’t massively bother him — it’s not exactly like someone’s aversion to him is a novel concept — but he can feel some sort of tension coming from the others. It happens a lot more now that they know about his autism and are more aware of themselves and others.

He tries to ignore it the best he can; he puts his head down and focuses on the geographical profile, going wherever he’s sent. Besides, the sooner they solve this case the sooner they can get out of North Carolina and back to DC. On their third day on the case, he’s working quietly in their designated corner of the police department alongside Hotch and Rossi while the others are out investigating in various different places. It’s a nice environment, and even though both men are his superiors, he feels more relaxed in their company than in anybody else’s.

It’s a relatively pleasant morning — considering the whole trying to catch a brutal serial killer thing — until they need to ask the sheriff a question. He saunters over, a tense and angry expression on his face, and Spencer can’t help but feel a little off, the confusing tension in the air that Spencer can’t quite identify making him anxious in his inability to properly decipher it. “Gentlemen,” he says, already frustrated. Spencer suspects it’s a pride thing; not many police departments like being shown up enough to have the FBI called in.

Eager to know the answer to their question, Spencer’s the one to jump in and ask. “Sheriff, we were just wondering whether the town gets much traffic from the local university or—”

He’s cut off by the sneering, towering man. “I’m not taking any questions from your kind,” he says aggressively. 

“I’m sorry?” Spencer squeaks as Rossi and Hotch both prepare to say something in response.

The sheriff cuts them off before they can get their likely diplomatic and calming words out. “Homo retards aren’t welcome around here.”

“Hey!” Rossi shouts as he leaps out of the chair, grabbing him by the collar as he’s helped by the element of surprise. “You don’t fucking talk to Spencer like that, you hear me? Weak, cowardly men like you—”

“Dave,” Hotch says placatingly, putting a hand on his shoulder and diffusing the situation. “Listen, Sheriff, we are only here to help you. But if you can’t respect my agents then we’re going to have a problem. Either you’re civil to Dr Reid, or I’m reporting you to the NC Sheriff’s Association. You hear me?”

The sheriff’s pride is clearly wounded, but he at least nods before giving them all a scornful look and walking away. 

“We didn’t even get to ask the question,” Spencer says anxiously, suddenly feeling out of his depth, like he can’t quite get enough air. 

“Dave, try and get an answer,” Hotch directs, taking charge of the situation. “Spencer, come with me.” He takes him into a secluded hallway for a little privacy, sitting him down on the cool linoleum before sinking down next to him. “You’re okay.”

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Spencer whispers over and over to himself as he rocks backwards and forwards, trying desperately to self-soothe.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Hotch asks. He’s been in enough of these situations with Spencer to know he’s usually in two very different headspaces: he either longingly craves the grounding touch of a hug or a hand on his back, or he needs complete space. He’s also learned that asking outright is the only way to get an direct answer. 

“Yes,” Spencer replies, before repeating it over and over again as he’s wrapped up in Hotch’s arms, head pressed against his chest, his hand pressing gently against the back of Spencer’s head. He starts to calm down as he manages to breathe to the heat of Hotch’s calm, steady heartbeat, the comforting touch of someone he trusts with his life also helping to bring him back down to earth. A good ten minutes after the altercation with the sheriff, he’s feeling much better and brings his head out of it’s safe cocoon between Hotch’s chest and hand. 

“Come on,” Hotch says kindly. “Let’s get back to the case, yeah? You can just sit and work quietly until you’re ready to hold a proper conversation again. How does that sound?”

Spencer nods tiredly, knowing that work will perk him back up again, and being surrounded by his team will make him feel safe, asshole sheriff or not.

⭐️

Over the years Hotch helps him through any hurdles that come his way, learning the exact nuances of Spencer’s characteristics and requirements, making sure to accommodate him in every way possible.

He brings an extra, super-soft sweater in his go-bag in case Spencer ever forgets his and needs something gentle on his skin but tight enough to make him feel secure. He buys him stimming toys, dropping them on Spencer’s desk before he even arrives at work and lets him use his office whenever the lights and noise of the bullpen get too much, drawing the blinds and giving him the space he needs. Rossi doesn’t even question it anymore when Hotch shows up with a stack of paperwork and moves into his office for the morning. 

It wasn’t until Hotch made a concerted effort to make his life easier that Spencer realised how hard it had been fighting through life on his own. So when he realises Hotch’s birthday is coming up, he decides he wants to show his gratitude. It’s never been easy for him to express emotions, especially since he’s never really found it rude when people don’t thank him, but he knows that for most neurotypical people, appreciation is important. 

So he talks it over with Derek and on Hotch’s birthday, he comes into work to see Spencer waiting in his office with balloons, a cake, a card, and a present. He’d spent hours trying to find the right words to explain how he feels, to find the right words to show Hotch just how much everything he’s done for him means, but eventually he’d settled on something simple:

Caroline B Cooney wrote: “I found my family. I found the right thing to do. I found my way home.” 

I found all of these things when I joined the BAU, but more specifically when I walked into your office, hands shaking, clasping a letter I’d been waiting for all my life. Thank you. 

Hotch reads it with tears in his eyes before taking in the cake, a classic birthday cake Spencer had bought at the store, the words “Happy Birthday Dad” written in blue icing. He didn’t really understand why the cake had stood out to him, or why he associated the word ‘dad’ with someone who wasn’t related to him at all, but he’d trusted his gut and with Derek’s cheerleading, he’d bought it. 

“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch says tearfully. “Can I hug you?”

Feeling only mildly uncomfortable at the visible display of emotion Spencer doesn’t know what to do with, he nods and steps into Hotch’s comforting embrace. “This means the world to me,” Hotch murmurs quietly as he stands, hugging Spencer for as long as the younger man can stand it. 

Spencer’s still not completely sure why he’s managed to make him so emotional, but at least he can trust that it’s a good thing, that Hotch is happy and pleased and reassured. And if he can make him feel even a smidgen as happy as Hotch has made Spencer over the years, well. He’ll consider his long and boring trip into the city to buy the cake, present and card worth it.

Quick Note: Spencer is diagnosed with Asperger’s because that part of the fic is set in 2005. These days he would be diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii

#criminal minds #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #hotch & spencer #spencer #hotch #my writing #autistic spencer reid #autistic spencer #dad hotch

[alphabravocharliedelta]

Skyfall | Russell Adler x Bell! Reader [One-shot]

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Word Count: 10,000+

Synopsis: After Solovetsky, Bell is personally recruited by M16 after Park’s personal recommendation. From there, the mission to pursue Perseus never ends. It isn’t until the confrontation at Pines Mall that everything is thrown into disarray, Adler now held captor by Stitch. Unable to cope, Bell takes matters into their own hands.

Content Warning: mature content, gore, adult language, blood, injuries, etc.

Notes: I decided to write this whole piece for Adler’s birthday, especially after seeing the Season Two teaser. I’m not good at romance, so please excuse me. And yes, it was inspired by Adele’s Skyfall. Full italic dialogue is the characters speaking Russian, ‘0000′ means a short time skip. Enjoy! 

[SKYFALL]

.

“What do you mean ‘captured’?”

You look Woods straight in the eye. 

The look you gave him was something he had never seen before, and it scared him. Woods could feel his blood run cold as you waited for an answer. He choked up, pursing his lips in a thin line. God help them all.

"It was Stitch."

Upon hearing that name, you slam a fist down on the table. You like a bomb, just waiting to go off, practically shaking from anger, and it was taking your entire willpower to not blow off. 

"And…" you begin, trying to keep your voice under control. "You just let him?"

"Fuck no. Dear god, no," Woods responds immediately. "They got us. Set up an ambush right in the middle of the damn mall. We fought tooth and nail and barely made it out, yet we were too late to notice him carrying off Adler—"

"Enough."

You glare at him for a bit, before breaking off to sit back down and burrow your face into your hand. Already you were beginning to feel lethargic, your head throbbing continuously in annoyance. 

"Bell–" 

"Don't," you hiss. You didn't want to hear apologies. 

The meeting room eventually cleared out on its own, leaving you to your thoughts. No one had said a word, and Woods respected your wishes, knowing that he would just add fuel to the fire. The team was already banged up and exhausted as is, and he didn't exactly want to be pitted against your aggressive behavior in these times. He was worried about you for sure, but now he was left to wonder what the hell he was supposed to tell Hudson. 

It was hours prior that you just returned from a mission with Park. You were both working on a collaborative assignment with the CIA, in which entailed you to gather intel to cross reference with their database. Adler and his team still hadn't arrived then, so you both waited patiently for some news. Adler was the one commanding the squad, which consisted of Woods, Zenya, and Bulldozer. However, only three of them returned.

You played with the watch around your wrist, thinking back. Adler had given it to you before you left, telling you to give it back to him when you returned. He gave you a kiss on the forehead when no one was looking, bidding you a successful operation. Guilt began to belittle you the longer you thought about it, so you pulled your sleeve back over.

You should have turned down the assignment, and went to the Pines mall with everyone else. If you were there, things would have turned out better. 

A part of you blamed the team for their incompetence, unable to prepare themselves for any type of situation. But in the end, it all came down to unfortunate circumstances that they just had the short end of receiving. It was practically trained in them that the mission came first, and they did successfully prevent the Nova Six explosion. Civilian lives were saved.

With the price of Russell Adler, of course.

You should have known that it was Stitch. Adler mentioned knowing him a while back, but didn't go into detail as to how. They must have had a tight history together if Stitch was willing to abandon the N6 canisters once he got his hands on Adler. You wanted to do something, anything, but there was no information whatsoever about his whereabouts. The only info you had was Woods and the team's account of seeing a chopper take off the only piece of evidence pointing towards Adler. 

You knew the Perseus member way beforehand, even working with him occasionally during your times with the group. The two of you were nothing but fellow colleagues, as you outranked him, but there were a few occasions where you two got along. But, now that you were on different sides, and knowing that everything was pointing towards him, you wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet through his skull. 

Time felt lost as you sat, lost in old memories. It was nearly goddamn twelve a.m. by the time you got up. You nearly toppled over, both your legs asleep after sitting idly for so long. Ignoring the static that ran up your thighs, you run a hand through your hair before giving out a long exhale.

“Bell?”

Looking up, you see Park peeking around the corner. She changed her outfit since you last saw her, this time without all her combat gear. You could detect a faint smell of vanilla from her

“Hey,” you greet wearily. “How long have you been there?”

“Not long. I… wanted to see how you were doing.” She approaches you with a small comforting smile. “You haven’t moved for a couple hours.” 

“I’m fine.”

It's what you had claimed, but your appearance said otherwise. Your hair was out of place, stray hairs poking out everywhere, and your eyes were bloodshot. Throat parched, you haven’t drank or eaten anything since you returned and found out what happened. All your energy was spent wallowing in anger and regret the past few hours. 

“Did… Hudson say anything?” you inquire tiredly. 

Pity flashed across Park’s expression as she tilted her head away from you, her eyes moving to avoid your gaze. “I can’t tell you.”

Your eyes narrow. “Why not?”

“It’s within reason, especially since how close you and Adler are.”

“And you agree?” 

She didn’t say anything. 

While you and Adler tried to keep your relationship under the radar, it was still apparent to everyone else that there was something going on between you two. After all, Park was the one that urged you to shoot your shot after you consulted her about “feeling strange”. No one called you out on it, seeing how you both were basically fit for each other. The invisible connection between you two is what made everything work smoothly on almost every mission. It was as if you already knew what Adler had on his mind, or what he was planning, and you would always take steps to ensure its success. 

So she knew that you were already blaming yourself for not being there for him. Having you on the upcoming rescue mission had the possibility of causing more problems, especially with your psychological tendencies to act before thinking. 

“Why do I even bother?” you scoff. You brush past her, about to head down the hallway, only for her to grab your wrist. You look over your shoulder, sending her an accusing glare as you pull away from her.

“We’re… trying to pinpoint his location,” Park informs you reluctantly. “They marked him off as M.I.A., but given enough time—”

“We don’t have time,” you spat. Before saying anything else, you inhale through your nose, trying to reign in your emotions. Park wasn’t the enemy here. “You don’t know Stitch. I worked with the guy before. He’s ruthless with his enemies, so who knows what he has in store for Adler?” 

“I know. They’re doing their best, just let them handle it. For the time being, just take care of yourself.” 

You didn’t make a sound, and only gave her a curt nod before trailing away. 

As much as you trusted Park and Woods, you couldn’t bring yourself to place hope in their plan. They didn’t know how the Perseus group dealt with people like Adler. You had first hand experience, as you were one of the people that had to do the dirty work early on. The methods they had at their disposal was one wishes to never go through, and you even had some people die on you because of it. Unfortunate, but it was your duty then.

Military personnel going M.I.A. was nothing new in this work field. You knew you were getting worked up about his disappearance, but the thought of his presence not returning to the base made you worry. How could you not? You loved the bastard to death, and would do whatever it takes to get him back, despite everything he did to you.

Coming to a decision, you headed off to the washroom to clean off before doing anything else. 

After all, you had a job to do.

0000

“Woods.”

He perks up, finding Park standing across from him. They both shared the same overworked appearance, dark bluish bags already settled under their eyes. About a week has passed since Adler’s capture, and the entire team had been working endlessly just trying to find any hint that would point towards where he may have been taken to.

Their efforts lacked any results, and they were getting desperate. One of their best CIA agents had been abducted, and the higher ups were already considering that Adler either caved in, or died under Soviet custody. Everyone was just waiting for a sign or slip up, any information that could help them.

“What?” Woods answers.

“I need you to talk to Bell,” Park sighs, before taking a seat across from him. She briefly reads the papers in front of her, before brushing them aside to make room for her elbows. Leaning in close, they talk in hushed voices. “I haven’t seen them leave their room in more than four days now.”

Woods huffs, before tossing a manila folder onto the floor. “Bell’s fine. Leave them alone.”

“Look. The M16 decided they didn’t want to be associated with this last minute, and requested for Bell and I to return.” Park drums her fingers on the table. “That was two days ago, and I still haven’t gotten a hold of them. The head of our department is getting impatient.”

“Not my problem.”

He knew that you could very much handle yourself when it came to things like this. Hell, he himself tried to check up on you a couple of times, but he never found you loitering around the common areas or cafeteria. Though, he did note that the coffee pot would be filled by the time he woke up, with a mug missing from the cabinet. Woods didn't think you were a coffee type of person, but you only continued to prove his assumptions wrong with each passing day he knew you. So, he came to the conclusion that if you were in a stable mind to get caffinated every morning before everyone else woke, then you were finding a way to cope.

And yet the concern in Park's voice told him otherwise. 

"If we don't return by tomorrow, they're going to ban us from working with you guys."

Woods pauses. "They can't do that."

"Well, we don't want to find out now, do we?" Seeing that she got his attention, Park stands back up. "Let's go."

Seeing no other choice, he follows. They both head down a series of hallways. It felt almost like a maze just trying to get around the headquarters, to a point where Woods was starting to wonder if Park even knew where she was heading. 

After going down a flight of stairs, they came across a plain door in the secluded parts of the base. You had always liked your privacy, and the covered hallway window only further proved it. 

Park gives a knock on the metal exterior, letting you know of their presence. "Bell? It's Park. I need you to come out for a bit. We need to talk."

They waited for you to respond, or for the sound of the door unlocking. But after a minute passed, nothing happened.

"Bell, I'm serious."

"Ugh, let me do it," Woods groans, gesturing for her to move aside. He had to admit, he was a bit irritated with you as well, seeing how you didn't do much to contribute to their search.

He tries the door knob, but it was locked. Although, it was a bit finicky and loose from the sounds of it. Seeing no other choice, he reels back before kicking it in.

"Bell!" Woods yells, pushing the door open. "Enough moping ar—"

The sight of your room was something to behold. Could one even call it a room?

"What the fuck?" Woods mutters under his breath.

It felt more like a library, and a messy one at that. There were stacks of books sticking up from the floor, accompanied with sheets of paper throwing all around the place. Manila folders of various sizes and age sat around, open and overfilled with information. The wall farthest from the door was covered with a large world map.

Taking careful steps, the duo both inch their way inside. Upon closer inspection, Park realizes that the papers weren't just random, but were intel. All of it was. Everything from past information relating to Perseus, to even the most recent encryptions the CIA managed to get a hold of. Things that were supposed to be wiped off the record managed to snake their way into the stacks. 

The books were all about cryptography, dating back until the first forms. The basics, the patterns, you name it.

"Bell's fucking insane."

“No, they were always like this."

Ever since you found out about what she and Adler did to you, you became more meticulous. No rock was left unturned, and you refused to make any mistakes in your work. You double checked everything, even referring to other works to make sure nothing was out of place. There were nights where she had to convince you to stop working so you could catch a break, and she felt guilty about it.

Park brushes a lock of her hair away from her face, moving towards the map while trying not to step on anything. She could see your handwriting on the borders of the papers, as well as on the vibrant sticky notes you had slapped on some of them. Stopping in front of the desk, a few white mugs were pushed aside, just teetering on the edge. She then notices that you focused on a particular set of papers, consisting of a few encryptions. 

They were fairly new, first appearing just one day prior. Both the text and your notes were written in Russian, but your handwriting was done in a rushed fashion. You had circled certain parts, drawing arrows between them, and even drew out a legend to help keep track. While seeing you work like this was nothing new to her, she wondered why you wrote in a different language this time, rather than the usual English. You rarely spoke or wrote in your mother tongue. Sometimes you would converse with Adler in Russian, especially if there were other people around, but that was all she could recall.

"Just how the hell did Bell get a hold of any of this?" Woods mutters, throwing a few pieces up in the air. He expected you to just pop up from somewhere, seeing how they invaded your workspace, but you were nowhere to be found. "Damn, even I didn't get to see some of these before."

Park ignores him, and her eyes drift off to the map in front of her. There were a few pins that kept up scraps of paper, although nothing of interest. If there was one thing, it was the bold, black marker you had used to circle a particular location. Next to it were strange symbols, possibly relating to whatever was on the table.

Her eyes widened in realization. "Shit!"

Without wasting another second, she grabs the papers on your desk, gathering up as much as possible in her arms before rushing towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Woods asks, grabbing her arm just before she flees. "We have to find—"

"Bell knows where Adler is." 

His grip loosens, and Park frees herself. They stood idly in the hallway as Woods tried to put everything together. "How—"

Park gestures to the map with her chin. "Over there, those are coordinates, I’m betting. And here in my arms are all the notes that ascertain that. I'll bring this over to the cryptography team, while you need to find Bell before they do anything stupid.” 

[FIVE HOURS EARLIER], 8:23 am

"Belikov?"

"Ah, hello, Bell. What can I do for you?"

The door behind you closes on its own, a nice click coming from it. Belikov’s office was small and minimally decorated. He sat at a metal desk that had a large computer on top of it, with wires trailing away from it and into the cool grey wall. A small task board was mounted behind him, with a list of reminders or tasks he needed to get done. 

You approach him, keeping a hand in your pocket. Glancing up slightly, you notice a camera in the corner with its light blinking. From what you can gather, it didn't have a mic equipped with it.

"I need you to do me a small favor,” you announce. “Think of it as repayment for Lubyanka.”

Belikov sets down his pen, sensing that something was out of place. 

You were never really the type of person to ask favors, or help. Not only that, there was a strange underlying tone in your voice that he couldn't help but feel that your request was more of a threat. He had heard you were originally a close associate to Perseus, and his thoughts quickly directed him to the possibility that you might have gone rogue.

"Depends on what the favor is," he responds slowly, reaching his hand slowly under his desk.

"You still remember how to pilot a chopper, no?" 

"...You know I can't do that anymore. That's not what I do here."

As if unsatisfied with his answer, you pull out your hand from your pocket, revealing a pistol and shoot once towards the direction of the camera. The sound of the lens breaking filled the air, and pieces fell to the ground upon impact. Without hesitation, you then turn it towards Belikov, who pushed himself away from the desk.

He looks down at your gun. A silencer was secured tightly to the end of it, and you had a steady finger just resting right next to the trigger. His eyes travel up your arm, before meeting you eye to eye. 

“I don’t think you understand the situation here, comrade,” you chastised in a low voice, and Belikov froze. “I wasn’t asking.”

Unable to do anything else, he put his hands up, keeping an eye on your gun. “And if I don’t?” he dared to ask.

“C'mon, don't be like that," you condemn, waving your hand around for a bit. "We both know why I'm here, so you can either make it easy for both of us, or make it Hell for everyone else."

"It's Adler, isn't it? I heard what happened."

You grind your teeth. 

Surviving on a mere eight hours of sleep collectively for the past week, you were barely keeping awake. You only left your room to either refill your coffee mug, or to go to the bathroom. Having surrounded yourself with practically every source available at your disposal, you could already hear voices whispering in your ear. Whether it was thanks to sleep deprivation or to the side effects of MKUltra, you didn't care.

So, just standing here and talking with Belikov was wasting any precious time and breath.

"Here's what you're going to do," you begin. "You are going to get a helicopter, and take me to where I want. No funny business, no questions. Got it?"

He nods, knowing that he was unable to escape.

Walking out the door, you stuck to him closely. Belikov could feel the silencer prodding him in the side as you went to the hangar together. From there, you let him choose a heli of his choosing.

As he did so, you took a small detour and went behind a large crate. There, you found all the equipment you had hid beforehand, and quickly threw everything on, and grabbed a parachute. The load was a bit heavy, so you had to put some effort into pulling your weight with each step. Prioritizing tactical equipment, your only weapons were a combat knife and the pistol.

"You're going to jump?" Belikov questions in disbelief as you board.

"What did I say?" you retort, and he shut up immediately. 

As Belikov started up the heli, you could hear traffic control attempting to wave you down: "You are not authorized to—". 

You unhooked the microphone from its place, bringing it close to your mouth. “Sergeant Woods approved of this flyby, no need to worry. Goodbye, you little shits.”

It was uncalled for, but you could feel satisfaction from just going off at them. Oh, you couldn’t wait to see the look on Woods face when you returned.

Without waiting for a response, you took it upon yourself to flick the radio off, as well as the GPS tracker. Belikov gave you an alarmed look, unable to comprehend the amount of rules and laws you were breaking, and you returned with a devious smirk, just daring him to speak. 

“Fly.”

And he did.

The helicopter blades started to rotate, gaining speed. You and Belikov cover your ears with headsets, and you watched as the ground below you grew smaller and smaller. A few people were running out to the runway, attempting to prevent you from leaving, but by then they couldn’t do anything but report it back to the officers.

Everything was going to plan.

It was by pure chance that you happened to stumble upon the coded message that led you up to this point. The CIA team had brushed it off, and set it aside to transcribe at a later time. Although difficult, you broke it within a few days. If you did everything correctly, and you validated that you did, then the coordinates you discovered would lead to the tiny island of Nantucket, Massachusetts. There, an old World War II base would be found, out of commission. You had already salvaged through past records for an old layout of the base, and memorized it.

Taking everything into account, from helicopter fuel to radio chatter, Stitch and his party shouldn’t have gone too far. There weren't any records of unidentified or unauthorized aircrafts entering or leaving the East Coast, so it was safe to assume that they didn’t leave the country yet. They were waiting for something, or someone.

The thought of it being a trap did, in fact, cross your mind, but it didn’t bother you. There were other things to prioritize, and your life was second. You were probably deemed mentally insane at this point, seeing the lengths you had already gone through just to trying to get to Adler. But, if the roles were reversed, you knew he would do the same for you.

You weren’t going to fail, nor was Adler dead, so you were going to try your damn hardest for the both of you to return home. Alive.

Taking a moment, you looked over to check on Belikov. He maneuvered the copter without much trouble, although his grip on the handles were a bit tense, and you couldn’t help but feel a little remorseful, knowing that you just put him in a bad spot.

“When we get back,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “Tell them I held you at gunpoint. I don’t want you to lose your job because of me. Say that I was psychotic, or whatever.”

“No need,” he declines. “It’s the least I can do. You did save me back at the KGB after all.”

“Adler was the one who gave you this position in the first place. I don’t want to take away your chance at life because of my decision.”

He hummed. “Well, I trust that you’ll come up with something when the time comes. For now, just rest.”

You take a look at your watch. It was about 9:52 am, which meant that it took you about thirty minutes to get Belikov and board the chopper, and another twenty to get this far out from base.

It was a risky move to just fall asleep, seeing how Belikov could just turn around when you're out and turn you in. But, for someone that was held hostage, Belikov didn’t appear too bothered by it. Truth be told, you did hear stories about him, both from Adler and rumors floating around. His personality was a complete opposite of the things he had committed, and you couldn’t help but be impressed. 

A silence settled between the both of you. Listening to the whir of the blades above you, you take the chance to view the scenery beneath you. To the right, an endless blue. The sunlight made the water twinkle brightly, and you notice a few carrier ships in the distance. As for the left, you could make out the shapes of buildings and immobile cars. Some houses aligned the beaches, little dots scattered around on the shore. 

Massaging your eyes, you could feel yourself easing up as a sense of tranquility fell over you. For an unknown reason, you didn’t feel as troubled as one should in your situation. You crossed the line the moment you set foot into Belikov’s office, knowing that you could be held accountable for any mayhem that would follow. You should be shaking right now, fearing for the worse, or even thinking of possible outcomes if something went awry. But, you couldn't. 

There was only one outcome. 

Panic was unnecessary. If things happen, it'll happen.

And before you knew it, Nantucket came into view.

You slid the door open, holding onto the handles to stable yourself.

"I need you to come back in an hour!" you yell at Belikov over the wind. "The area should be clear by then!"

"An hour?!" he exclaims. "That's not enough—"

He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, as you already jumped out. He could see your form get smaller and smaller as you pulled your arms to the side to gain speed. "Time..."

The plunge from the air, you had to admit, was a bit frightening. You never had really gone base jumping, or even skydiving, beforehand, so your experience was that of a beginner at best. It's a subject that isn't exactly given at basic military training. And despite your years of experience, this was probably the second time you had to ever jump out of a helicopter. The first time was during your time "Vietnam", when it was shot out of the air and hung up in the tree lines, but that was a different kind of jumping.

You pulled the parachute open when you were just a good distance above the water, and the old base was just a good swim away. Positioning yourself, you pointed your toes downward so you could break the surface tension of the water as you land. Once close enough, you cut the strings.

The salty, cold water immediately sent chills in your bones right as you landed. You could feel everything trying to drag you down, especially the small waves that crashed over you. A part of you just wanted to take everything off to make the load lighter, but you knew that you were going to need it eventually. Gasping for air, you tread for a bit, just trying to catch your breath.

Once you recovered, you took a leisure swim towards land. 

There was a desolate space in front of you once you exited, in which a couple of humvees and a heli carrier sat. Crates were stacked nearby, left out in the open. Seizing the opportunity, you took cover behind them and whipped out a pair of binoculars. You took a quick survey of the perimeters, wondering the best approach. 

There weren't as many people as you thought, counting, at most, five people that were patrolling the area. It was daytime, and the land was pretty vacant. 

Taking a look at the time, it was now 10:32 am. The flight took about two hours, which meant that you had about one hour to retrieve Adler and rendezvous with Belikov before Hudson and the team could catch up with you. You hoped to return before they left. If they were smart, they must have broken into your room by now. 

Returning focus to the objective, Woods had claimed that there were about thirty enemies when it came to the ambush, and a later report came out that eighteen bodies were counted. That meant there should be about twelve loitering around the base, five outside and seven inside.

"Have you counted the boxes already?"

A couple of men began to approach your area, and you instantly pulled yourself inwards and pressed your back against the crate. 

"Yes. Everything is refueled and ready for transport."

"Took long enough."

They stopped right next to you, backs turned. Their uniforms were black, fitted with a matching vest and tundra camouflage patterned pants. You could see the Perseus symbol embroidered on the biceps of their right arm. Stitch certainly had a weird sense of fashion when it came to his underling.

With them distracted, you pounced onto one of them, covering their mouth. You pulled out their firearm from their side, and quickly unloaded the bullets into his partner before he could react. The body fell to the ground with a loud thud, and the man in your chokehold’s screams were brought down to a muffle. 

You then violently snap his neck in return, and his body slumps over in your arms. With two dead bodies already on the list, you drag them behind cover, and strip the latter of his uniform, shove it on and top it off with the vest, switching out any unessential equipment with yours. It felt significantly easier to walk now without wet clothing.

Assuring that everything was in order, you headed inside.

It was eerily quiet, and you could mainly hear the whirring of machines, fans, and steam on the inside. A bit cramped, you noted, the wallways about two persons wide. The place showed little activity of reconstruction, having been untouched and abandoned. Dust collected in every nook and cranny, and there were dark spots and cracks speckled across the floor. The layout seemed true to the map you had remembered, so you traveled in deeper. 

For a bit, it reminded you of the Ukraine mission. You were paired up with Woods, both of you infiltrating the secret Spetsnaz training facility and setting the place ablaze. You even had the balls to press the large red button, stating that "the enemies should come to you instead", much to the inconvenience of Woods.

"Ah comrade, I need your help over here!"

Breaking your train of thought, you muse over if you should engage in the request. 

Ah, what the hell? you think. Maybe you could get them to spill information about Adler.

You trace back your steps to an open door. Inside, a man around the same height as you gestured you to come in. He had a fresh shave, with dark blonde hair gelled back. The top of his uniform was tied around his waist, an old tank top taking its place. By the looks of it, he seemed pretty drained.

"Perfect timing. I need you to help pack these," he requests.

"Ah," you voice. "And you're…?"

"Ivanov."

Walking in, the room was a makeshift armory. Rows of AK47s were aligned in a row on the tabletop, and underneath a crate of a diminishing supply of grenades. Ivanov was the only guy you seen inside thus far. He was filling up magazines, setting them on the table after the pack was finished. 

Seeing that you were going to assist, he hauls a box of bullets out of the ammo container, and sets it down next to you. "We're a bit behind schedule, since Captain Kuzmin got a hold of the American."

You pause, hand hovering over the box, before continuing the motion and grabbing a couple of bullets and loading them into a magazine. "The prisoner, what happened to them?"

"I'm not sure, but I heard they were keeping him in one of the basements," Ivanov answers. 

"Ah, I did not know that." You slide the mag in, making sure it was secure before pulling the top of it back. Seeing how you already knew how to do it, he straightens up, about to return to his station, only to do a double take in your direction. His eyes widened. "Thanks for informing me."

"Motherf—"

You pull the trigger.

Ivanov recoils backwards from the impact, tripping over the containers on the floor. A clean hit, right in between his eyes. 

You let the firearm fall out of your hands, and it clatters onto the floor. Stepping over his body, you made your way back out, but not before tossing a few C4s into the pile of grenades.

Once getting a couple paces away from the armory, you detonated them. 

The walls shook violently, and the overhead lights flickered. Nearby windows shattered from the blast wave, glass falling onto the gloomy floors. A few stray bits flew your direction, grazing your cheek.

Now that they had a distraction, you made your way to the basement. 

The alarms began to sound, covering the metallic rings of the stairs as you rushed down them. There was an announcement over the PA, announcing that there were intruders, and it repeated endlessly. 

On the final flight, a lone Perseus soldier ran their way up the stairs. "Where are you going?!" he exclaimed, trying to shove you back in the other direction. "There's a—"

You cut him off, sinking a knife into his chest. A few specks of blood splattered on your face, and you yank the blade back out. He gurgled, and watched helplessly as you cleaned your knife on the sleeve of your uniform. 

"Give Arash my regards," you growl, stepping over him.

Now on the lowest part of the facility, you began kicking every door open, peering in to see if Adler resided in one of them.

Another of Stitch's companions rounded the corner, this time with rifles in hand. Upon seeing you, they fired in your direction and you duck into one of the rooms.

The glass pane above you shatters as they continue to unload everything. "Fucking idiots," you hiss under your breath.

Unhooking a grenade from your belt, you pulled out the pin and chucked it out the window. It goes off, and the air fills with the screams of two.

One survived the blast, trying to crawl away. You stop them, grabbing them by the collar and flipping them over and holding a gun to their head. 

"Where's Adler?!" you bellow, pressing the barrel against his temple. "Tell me, and you'll live."

He gives out a pained, yet mocking chuckle. "You won't find him—"

You shoot him in the shoulder, and he gives out a yelp. Bringing him closer, you repeat yourself, "I'll ask again. Where. Is. He."

"You're too late," he chokes out, giving you a bloody grin. "The Captain's… He's- He's already heading to eva—"

"Fuck!" 

You let him go, making sure to put a hole in each leg so he can bleed to death. With that, you made a dash towards the stairs, practically flying up it.

While you were busy poking around, Stitch must have already begun to move Adler out. The chopper they used was still there when you parachuted half an hour ago, so that must mean you just missed him.

The panic that you should have felt ages ago began to settle in. Shit shit shit!

Your joints and limbs were aching, just waiting to give out. A part of you just wanted to give up and trip, spending the rest of the time just lying down on the concrete floor. The small possibility that Adler was no longer here made you choke up, and it makes you wonder why you came all this way. Desperation hung over your shoulders, and your throat began to tighten.

You run out to the open sun, the sun rays temporarily blinding you. 

Urgently, you look around for anything that was moving.

Here, you see a dark hooded figure just about a kilometer away, dragging something on the ground, around 300 yards away. Around him were three other soldiers. They were about halfway to the chopper carrier, and if you were to start running now, you wouldn't make—

No, you will. There was no time for doubt.

A humvee was pulled up nearby, and you quickly jumped into it. The keys were still in the ignition, so you cranked it sideways. The vehicle vibrated, a loud buzzing noise started. Switching the stick position, you slammed on the accelerator. It lurched forward, the tires screeching against the pavement.

With one hand on the wheel, you bring out another C4, tossing it into the passenger seat. You took out your grenades, your flashbangs- anything that would cause an explosion, and threw it into the pile.

They couldn't go anywhere if they didn't have the means of doing so.

You sped past the group of people, and taking a look out the window, you saw him. 

Adler was on the ground, unconscious. His glasses were gone, and his clothes were stained in dried blood. You couldn't see his face underneath all the red smeared all over it. And holding him by the back of the collar was Stitch.

A sudden rage overtook you, and you wanted to jerk the wheel to run him over, but you managed to keep a level head, and drove past.

Caught off guard, his underlings began to shoot at your vehicle, but the reinforced plating shielded you as bullets pelted against the side.

The helicopter was right there, and so you did it.

You kick the door open and jump out. The landing was brutal, the wind getting knocked out of you upon impact. You tucked in, but felt your arm give out the moment it touched the ground, and tiny rocks scraped against your skin, tearing it open. The detonator fell out of your hands.

The humvee continued without you, the pedal stuck in place, and crashed into the heli. You forced yourself into a crawl, reaching for the remote. Once you felt something metallic brush against your fingers, you grabbed it and pressed every button available. The car exploded, taking out the chopper with it. Flames burst upward, sending a heat wave within radius. 

You were all stuck on the island.

Now, it was time to deal with Stitch.

.

.

.

.

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.

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.

. 

[TWO WEEKS LATER], 10:15pm

"That's it?"

"Yep," you affirm, before taking another shot of vodka.

Instantly, loud groans of disappointment filled the table and you smile smugly at their reactions. 

"You're fucking kidding Bell—"

"Wow, really leaving us hanging."

You laugh as Woods gives you a friendly slap on the back of your head. "You're the most dumbest, deranged person I ever worked with," he declares. 

"I take after you and Mason." You shrug with a smug grin. “Let’s face it though, you’re proud of me.”

“Damn right I am. But seriously, ‘Goodbye, you little shits’? You not only lie, but you disrespect me?”

"Well, would you have preferred me saying 'kiss my ass'?" you retort.

Two weeks have passed since your selfish decision to go after Adler. You managed to do the impossible, and it only took days of sleepless nights, a lot of coffee, and your mind balancing on the edge of insanity for you to pull it off. 

Truth be told, you couldn't remember anything afterwards, as your memory blanked out. 

According to Woods, they arrived shortly after where you ended your story. Somehow, you had managed to take out the other three, and were engaged Stitch in close quarter combat. They landed and took Stitch into custody, although he had left quite a mess in return.

You got stabbed in the abdomen, and got a knife pierced through your hands, and had a few bullet grazings and scrapes. Your shoulder got dislocated from your little dive out of the humvee. As for Adler, he was in better condition than you expected. He was still alive, although Stitch did a number on him.

The asshole decided to do an art project on Adler’s face, tracing over his scar with a fresh, sharp blade and gave him a broken nose. You shivered just thinking back on it. The medical report also indicated that he had a few broken bones mostly in his right arm and hand. There was a single bullet wound in his left leg as well, which you assumed he received from collateral damage around the time you were fighting the three.

They applied first aid there, before transporting you all back home for proper treatment.

Next thing you knew, you woke up in the med bay, three days after. You slept a whole sixty-two hours, catching up on sleep and recovering. Park chewed your ass out the moment you woke up, saying that you were on administrative leave and taken off payroll until a decision could be made on what to do with you.

Now, everyone was gathered in the meeting room, the lights turned down low to set the mood. You had just finished recounting your experience to the crew.

Anything work related was pushed aside, the papers replaced with several cans of beers and glasses of alcohol. Stress was relieved through downing shots, and entertainment was the good old pack of cards and chips, hard cash thrown onto the tabletops. Even Hudson was there, holding a bottle while playing beer pong.

“Bell, I just remembered,” Park perks up suddenly beside you. She reaches into her back pocket, retrieving a folded piece of paper and hands it over. “Look what I found.”

You take it, eyeing her cautiously. “What's this?”

“Blackmail,” she says lightly, and you gave her a stern look. “I’m kidding, but go on.”

Opening it up, it revealed itself to be a photograph. The timestamp showed that it was taken a couple weeks ago. More accurately, the day you went on a solo raid.

It was a picture of you and Adler sitting in the back of the helicopter, probably taken right after it landed back home. Your head was resting on Adler’s shoulder, and his head was leaning against yours. You were both holding hands, which rested on top of his left thigh.

"Aren't you two a bunch of lovebirds?" Park pokes fun at.

“What the fuck?!” you shriek, feeling heat rise up on your cheeks as Park gives you a shit-eating grin. “Helen, what the hell is wrong—”

“Oh, what do we have here?” 

Woods plucks the polaroid right out of your hands. He whistles, seeing its contents. "Wow, wait 'till Mason hears about—"

"If you tell Mason, then I'll tell him about the mannequin," you snarl, snatching it back. You then turn to Park, who nonchalantly takes a sip of her drink. "Really?"

"C'mon Bell. It's not every day you get to see that kind of stuff," she teases.

"Well, let's make this the last time then. I'm burning this."

You take your leave, Baker shouting across the room for you to get another pack of beer, and you give him the bird over the shoulder in response, before taking a turn out the doorway. 

The noise of music and speaking lowered down to the steady hum of the hanging lights as you wandered around for a bit.

You head the opposite direction of the trash room, and eventually find Adler in one of makeshift sleeping quarters. It was just him and one other person, who had just finished redressing his bandages.

He looked pale, his sullen expression exposing his insomniac habits. A large gauze pad was secured tightly with tape over his cheek, and his right arm in a cast. The medic was helping him get his jacket on, but in the end he only put his left arm in the sleeve while letting the rest hang from his shoulders. After determining he didn’t need any more help, the medic left, giving you a weary look of thanks as you moved out of the way.

Adler perks up slightly noticing your presence, giving you a small smile. “If it isn’t Sputnik.”

“Seriously?” you articulate. “That’s my nickname now?”

He ignores your question. “Are you drunk?”

“No. How's the face?"

"Hurts to talk, but I'll live."

Despite your protests, you were, in fact, drunk. You somehow managed to live up to the concept of Russians being able to handle alcohol well, yet Adler notes that you were beginning to slur your words. It was rather intriguing for many to experience the complete 180 in your personality when you get drunk. You would never shut up once someone got you to start talking, and if you had something to say, you did it in the most blunt way possible. A bit of your accent came out as well, a bit of a mix between British and Russian all together.

"You better."

Adler scoffs in amusement, but beckons you to get closer over with his hand. "C'mere."

"You forgive me?" you say hopefully, taking a seat on a swivel chair next to the bed. You both haven't seen each other since the incident, as you were forcibly isolated and interrogated once deemed stable enough. Adler most likely heard what had happened by the time you were released.

"You’re joking, right? Of course I don’t,” he reprimands, giving you a flick in the forehead. 

“What the he—”

“You disobeyed a direct order, threaten someone at gunpoint, steal a heli, raid an abandoned military base on your own, blow it up, then have the audacity to fight Stitch on your own?"

"I literally killed an entire garrison for you, don't you dare lecture me on what I did."

"Is that your way of being romantic? Committing war crimes?"

"Which ones?” you counter. “You gotta be more specific, Russ, my entire existence is a war crime."

He sighs, knowing there's no use arguing with you. It felt like he was talking to a doppelganger of Woods sometimes, so having to deal with two idiots on the team was mentally exhausting. If anything, your efforts balance it out. 

Lying down, he notices the paper in your hand and points his chin at it. "What's that?"

You lazily hold your hand out, letting him take it from you. "Did you know Park took this?"

"No. But you look dashing." Adler pockets it when you aren't looking.

"I look like a serial killer," you whine, leaning back and proceeding to spin.

"That's what you are."

"I don't kill for fun."

Adler stops your chair by sticking his foot out, worried that being dizzy and drunk might somehow cause you to hit your head against the table. “Your body count says otherwise.”

"Oh shit, am I on the top three?"

"If you keep pulling off the shit you do, you'll be first place soon enough."

You give out a boisterous laugh. "At least I beat you at something."

A silence settles between the both of you as your laughter dies out to a chuckle. To think that you were now able to have a casual conversation with Adler without having to worry felt reassuring. Despite his demeanor, he was an easy guy to talk to, but it felt like you would both argue like a married couple at times. 

You began to feel drowsy, feeling the alcohol beginning to slow you down. Wondering what time it was, you remembered something and began to loosen the watch around your wrist. "I forgot to return—"

"Keep it."

"...You're mad at me."

"I'm not. It's yours now."

And so you secured it back around your wrist. While he assured that he wasn't mad at you, you knew that he didn't approve of what you did. It was reckless, and you intentionally put the entire mission in jeopardy because you couldn't be patient. Your lack in trust towards your teammates was called into question, and that day the CIA could have lost three people.

But, they didn't. It was always the negatives that everyone focused on, not the positives. You found where Adler was, outperforming the CIA's "top cryptographers" once again, managed to take out Stitch's unit and hinder his plans. What more could they want?

You scoot closer to Adler, crossing your arms on his bedside and burrowing your head in them. "I'm sorry."

“It’s fine,” he assured.

Avoiding his gaze, you stare at the wall trying to let the thought of Adler's disappointment bother you. Instead, you feel him place a hand on top of your head, and you close your eyes as you feel his fingers run through your hair, shuddering as he moves it in a combing fashion.

"I'm not a dog, you know," you comment tiredly.

"Well you're not stopping me either."

Despite not doing much recently, Adler found himself becoming exhausted more easily. Having two limbs temporarily out of commission certainly made it harder to move around, but it was the lack of movement that made him bored out of his mind. He wanted to get back to work already to make up for lost time, but everyone denied him the pleasure of doing so, saying that he’ll need to recover before anything else. 

With nothing to do other than signing papers, Adler looked forward to seeing you pop in from time to time while you tell him stories about what had happened that day. He had planned to drop by the meeting room for a couple of drinks, but he found himself preoccupied with you instead, your own sleepiness rubbing off of him.

You were about to drift off when you felt Adler’s hand leave and the sound of the lamp turning off. He nudges you awake. Opening your eyes slowly, you found that Adler had pushed himself farther into the bed, holding up the blankets to reveal an open space beside him. 

“Hop in.”

Too tired to decline, you slip under the covers with him, pulling the sheets over your shoulders. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, and you unconsciously moved a bit closer to him, and Adler couldn't help but chuckle to himself as you did.

"Shouldn't we go join the others?" you query.

"Can't. Doctors said no drinking."

"Ah. I hope you well get soon then."

Adler does a double take. "You mean, 'I hope you get well soon'?" he corrects.

"That's what I said."

"God, how many shots did you take?"

You felt usually daring today, the alcohol going to your head. Your hand shoots up to his head. His naturally styled hair became tousled as you played with it between your fingers. It felt soft and lush like you expected. "Enough to get where I'm at now."

“So, we’re speaking Russian now?”

In the darkness, you could make Adler's expression. It was peaceful, the corners of his eyes slightly lifted as his lips were upturned in a barely noticeable, yet tender, smile. His eyes watched you fondly, just taking in your facial features and every little movement they made. It was almost like he was in a trance, and whenever you were around he could just forget everything. The pain would suddenly become a numbing tingle as his heart began to quicken itself each time. 

Love was something he hadn't felt in a long time, and even he had to admit that he was scared of trying to love again. And he could tell you were in a similar situation— not knowing what it felt like to be loved.

"Russian is considered a romantic language, you know," you point out, pulling your hand away.

The feeling Adler got every time he looked at you came with the urge to protect you, wanting to keep you out of harm's way. But in reality, it felt like you were the one protecting him, doing all the dirty work behind the scenes just for the sake of it. Yet, you were unwavering, and it was alarming. 

"Last time I checked, it’s not. You're just saying that cause you like hearing me speak it."

You gave him a meek grin. “Smartass.”

Reflecting on it, Adler didn't know much about you. 

Judging from previous missions, you've become long desensitized to a point where you had no issue dealing with the enemy in the way you had done two weeks ago, and it made him wonder what kind of other shit you went through before having the luck of meeting him. But, to see you act in such an affectionate way was something new, as you played a relentless, yet dependable, soldier on the job.

If there's one thing he did know, it was that he wanted to spend the rest of his days working alongside you. When he, and if he will, retire, Adler knew that he wanted to take you back to his hometown and show you around. Live together as civilians, take you out for dinner, maybe even rent a fancy sports car and speed down the highway near some scenic beach during sunset. It was a cheesy thought, but it was something he looked forward to, and he didn't plan to die until he did.

Lost in thought, he brings his hand up to your chin. 

"I never really did thank you for Nantucket, did I?" he murmurs, switching back to English. Hearing Adler's gravelly voice in such close proximity made you melt.

"No, not really." 

"Close your eyes then."

"Why-"

"Close."

And so you obliged. 

Darkness overtook your vision, and you strained yourself to listen carefully. You heard the sheets ruffling, and Adler moved his hand to cup your cheek, the roughness of his palms ticking your skin. Your heart began to race, and butterflies fluttered in your stomach as you waited for Adler to commit to what he planned.

Getting impatient, you were about to speak up and snap your eyes open but you felt something press against your lips gently.

The kiss was soft and surprisingly chaste. You could detect the wistfulness behind it, and it brought up a mix of emotions. His lips were different from what you had imagined. They were plump and smooth, almost luscious on its own. Rather fitting for a suave man of his nature, yet it gave you an entirely new, exclusive experience.

Eventually, Adler recedes back, pulling away, but you could still a tingling impression left on your slightly parted lips. You failed to form any words, and instead your eyes fluttered back open. 

The look he gave you made you tear up. His eyes were half lidded, and there was a sense of longing behind those ocean blue eyes of his, telling you that he had been waiting to convey his feelings in this way for the longest time. It just made you defenseless, knowing that there was someone like Adler that actually loved the monster that you had made yourself out to be.

You thought back to a couple weeks back, remembering his unconscious form and a strange sense of dread fell upon you. An image flashed in your mind, your blood-stained hands shaking as they hovered over his beaten face. Someone was trying to pull you away from him, shouting at you in indecipherable words.

Adler was fine now, but you couldn't help but sob, the delayed sense of impending doom now finally kicking in after two weeks.

A tear rolled down your cheek, wetting the pillow underneath you, and you immediately tried to wipe your eyes before more followed. 

"Sorry, I-I don't know what's come over me," you stammer, shuddering as you try to catch your breath. “Just give me a moment.”

"You want to talk about it?"

“No, it’s fine,” you try to assure him.

Adler wasn’t having any of it. He couldn’t just lie idly aside and let it pass, especially with you tearing up about it. “Talk to me, Bell.” 

You sniffle, taking a deep breath. "It's just… When Woods informed us that you were missing, I-I got so fucking scared. I worked with Stitch before, and..."

"I'm here now."

"I know, but… Just you, tied up in some chair in some unknown place, him inflicting whatever vengeance he had against you… I was confident that you were alive, but then I thought: what if I never found you? What if I was wrong, and you were never there? The thought of just discovering your body—"

"[Y/N]," Adler cuts you off. "I haven't seen you in two weeks and the last thing I want for you to do is cry. Even more so if it's because of me."

"I—"

"It's in the past now. You did what you thought was best. It was fucking stupid, but it's the reason why we're able to have this conversation today. As much as I hate to admit it, your impulsiveness saved my ass. But, as your superior, and your boyfriend, don’t you dare pull shit like that again, got it?”

“...Okay,” you assent. Adler always had a way with words, although forthright, but it never failed to comfort you.  

He nods in affirmation. “Good.”

You both gaze at each other wordlessly amidst the darkness. The light that seeped under the doors gave you the dim outline of his form, and you could see his chest rising and falling in a steady pace. Adler lied there calmly, listening to you ease yourself down into hiccups. He wanted to embrace you, but his injuries prevented him from doing so, and it pained him.

“...We didn’t do anything for your birthday, did we?” you inquire through receding hiccups. “Or that thing. Valentine’s was it?”

“You and I? No. You weren’t here.” 

A pang of guilt hits you. “Shit… I, uh— Park had to bring me back to the U.K. for a couple days due to… complications.”

Adler hums for a bit, thinking. His birthday was nothing special of sort, but the rest of the crew was eager to celebrate it, especially with his return. They held a drinking session, similar to the one tonight, but he could only sip on water and non-alcoholic juices.

“Tell you what,” he begins a bit eagerly. “Since we’re both on leave, how about we take a trip back to my hometown?”

“Where’s that at?”

“It’s a secret, you’ll find out later.” He could hear you scoff in amusement. “You can stay at my house, where the bed is actually big enough for the both of us. I’ll drive you around, show you the tourist attractions—”

“You can’t drive with your arm like that,” you snicker.

“Fine, you can drive. Just don’t scratch it. Anyways, you’ll drive us around, and we can eat at this nice restaurant that’s close by. I know the owner, so we can get a good deal. There’s a nice view in their outdoor seating area, and their wine is pretty decent.”

“You’re such a sap.”

“Hey!” Adler retorts in offense. “Not everyone’s idea of a romantic getaway is infiltrating an old military base. Let me have this for once.”

“Mhm.”

“Good.” He gives you a peck on the forehead. “But until then, you need to sleep, soldier.”

“Yes, sir.”

You nuzzle yourself into the crook under Adler’s chin, and you could feel his arm curve underneath and wrap around your unbandaged hand. You slowed your breathing down to match Adler’s as he rubbed gentle circles in your palms, and you counted each rotation, just trying to fight off sleep. You wanted to stay awake and cherish the moment, but the distant music from the party persisted, the muffled beats slowly pulling you into a light slumber. 

"Я тебя люблю,” you mumble as you drift off, your fingers losing its grip around his.

"I love you too.”

Adler kisses your forehead once again, before following you into a good night sleep.

#sorry this is long lmao #there's not a lot of romantic plot here i tried my best #russell adler #russell adler x reader #russell adler x bell #cod black ops cold war #cod #black ops cold war #call of duty imagine #bo:cw #text #bell #call of duty x reader #fanfic #call of duty: black ops cold war #me back at is again with my limited vocabulary #abcd briefing

[tennessoui]

No, no please DO go on and give us all the firefighter Obikin headcanons!

alright here are a few more firefighter obikin headcanons:

i seem to have forgotten in the fic to say explicitly that satine is obi-wan's manager. eventually she and anakin learn to get along. it helps that she'd actually be rather put out if Obi-Wan had actually died in the house fire, and it becomes pretty clear pretty quickly that Anakin isn't just dating obi-wan for his fame or money.

obi-wan wins a grammy for the album he wrote about anakin and he spends like half his speech thanking anakin and gushing about him and then he's like 'also thank you god i guess for everything but also for making someone as amazing as anakin. i wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for him. i mean that in the 'this album is about him so i wouldn't have written it if i hadn't met him' way and also the 'he saved me from a house fire that probably would have killed me' way.'

but please don't think anakin isn't just as embarrassing ask anyone ask ahsoka every time the firefighters play drinking games anakin's first to be like 'NEVER HAVE I EVER NOT SAVED OBI-WAN KENOBI FROM A HOUSE FIRE' and everyone's like 'anakin that doesn't even really--' but he's already left the game halfway through to facetime obi-wan after his show.

theres a year and a half where obi-wan doesn't work/tour/make music in the studio in order to spend time with anakin (this is at the end of his recovery from when he got hurt) and during that time it's decided that the station dalmation dog is too rambunctious to actually be of any help, and obi-wan volunteers them to adopt the little puppy immediately without consulting anakin first.

but obi-wan's puppy dog eyes are killer and anakin's so weak in the face of obi-wan wanting something he can give him and when obi-wan's like 'im sorry for not making sure we were together for this decision and big step, but look at her.....'

and anakin's like ok fine she's adorable. i see you already have bowls and toys and five different collars holy shit obi-wan.

and obi-wan is like :D they said we could change her name :D so i took the liberty of having all the paperwork drawn up under her new name :D

anakin's like what the fuck is wrong with spot

obi-wan's like spot was cute :D but now her legal name is Annie Skywalker-Kenobi :D its a lot of money to change it now :D

anakin is torn between indignation and being super emotional that obi-wan hyphenated their last names

#asks #firefighter au #i feel like these headcanons are getting more dumb as they go on lol

[magicaththedemigod]

an extensive analysis of “the song of achilles” by madeline miller

Or: things I noticed and couldn't keep to myself.

Because I just finished reading it and have many feelings about it, I've decided to compile all of them into a very lengthy Tumblr post.

This will be broken up into three parts:

1. Foreshadowing

2. Dramatic (and regular) Irony

3. Fatal Flaws

1. Foreshadowing

Miller does such a delightful job with foreshadowing. The number of quotes I could be spitting at you right now... but I digress. The main job of foreshadowing, especially in a tragedy like "The Song of Achilles," is to set the characters up for their tragedy.

What I like most about how Miller goes about it in this book is that she doesn't attempt to pull a shocking twist out of nowhere; instead, she takes an approach which allows the reader to fully marinate in their despair.

For example, this quote:

Achilles shook his head, impatiently. "But this was a greater punishment for her. It was not fair of them." "There is no law that gods must be fair, Achilles," Chiron said. "And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone. Do you think?"

Let's take a moment and unpack some of this. For context, this is a conversation between Patroclus, Achilles, and their mentor Chiron. They're discussing the tale of Heracles, who's driven to madness and ends up killing his own wife and kids.

From reading the book, (SPOILER ALERT) you know that Achilles' own pride and honor end up forcing Patroclus to impersonate him in order to save the Greek army, and in doing so is killed by Hector. The fact that Chiron directs this question, "And perhaps it is the greater grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone. Do you think?" to Achilles, who is left behind after Patroclus' death is such delightful foreshadowing that I almost threw the book across the room when I first read it.

Achilles slumps into such a depression after Patroclus dies (really, after he kills Patroclus with his own fatal flaw), that he even loses the ability to care about his fame or honor anymore. He feels the greater grief, so to speak.

Even after he dies, Patroclus is left behind, unable to rest properly because they never put his name on the tomb. In that sense, Patroclus is then the one left behind, experiencing loneliness and grief.

The book is full of little hints like this, and that's part of why it's almost torture to read as someone who knows how the Iliad goes. As I said before: the foreshadowing in this book is meant to have the reader in pain from the beginning because you know nothing is going to work out in the end.

2. Dramatic (and regular) Irony

Yes, that's right. I'm about to rip into your soul.

Probably one of the biggest parts of classical Greek myths is dramatic irony (the audience knowing something the characters don't). In plays, the ending is almost always announced before the play begins. In fact, the audience most likely already knows the story from previous tellings or just general knowledge. It makes sense that it would be one of the biggest players in "The Song of Achilles."

As usual, let's start with a quote:

His eyes opened. "Name one hero who was happy." I considered. Heracles went mad and killed his family; Theseus lost his bride and father; Jason's children and new wife were murdered by his old; Bellerophon killed the Chimera but was crippled by the fall from Pegasus' back. "You can't." He was sitting up now, leaning forward. "I can't." "I know. They never let you be famous and happy." He lifted an eyebrow. "I'll tell you a secret." "Tell me." I loved it when he was like this. "I'm going to be the first." He took my palm and held it to his. "Swear it." "Why me?" "Because you're the reason. Swear it." "I swear it," I said, lost in the high color of his cheeks, the flame in his eyes. "I swear it," he echoed. We sat like that a moment, hands touching. He grinned. "I feel like I could eat the world raw."

First of all: cute. Second of all: wow, so much pain.

As you know, Achilles is the opposite of happy at the end of the book (well, maybe after they die, but we'll get to that later). Though he swears it here with Patroclus, the two of them make decisions that ultimately lead to their downfall: Achilles decides to abandon the Greeks after they slighted his honor, Patroclus decides to help them even if it means risking his life, and Achilles lets him do it.

So let's talk about dramatic irony. The irony here is that you know, maybe just from this exchange alone, that Achilles isn't going to be the first happy hero. You know there is a war coming, know that Achilles and his famous heel will get himself killed. You might also know at this point that Patroclus will die first and send Achilles spiraling into grief before that happens.

It's painful, truly. Achilles spends his last days in utter agony, wanting to die but unable to kill himself, and Patroclus can only watch on as a ghost (spirit?). Even when Achilles does die and his ashes are put into their urn (seriously, how did any scholar ever think they weren't lovers?), they still have to wait to be reunited.

But there's still more. Consider these lines:

Hector's eyes are wide, but he will run no longer. He says, "Grant me this. Give my body to my family, when you have killed me." Achilles makes a sound like choking. "There are no bargains between lions and men. I will kill you and eat you raw."

Sound familiar? That's right: "I will kill you and eat you raw" sounds an awful lot like "I feel like I could eat the world raw," doesn't it? Another parallel from Miller: one from a time of happiness, the other from a time of extreme grief. However painful it is, I really live for connections like that.

And I've got one more for you:

Achilles shook his head. "Never. He is brave and strong, but that is all. He would break against Hector like water on a rock. So. It is me, or no one." "You will not do it." I tried not to let it sound like begging. "No." He was quiet a moment. "But I can see it. That's the strange thing. Like in a dream. I can see myself throwing the spear, see him fall. I walk up to the body and stand over it." Dread rose in my chest. I took a breath, forced it away. "And then what?" "That's the strangest of all. I look down at his blood and know my death is coming. But in the dream I do not mind. What I feel, most of all, is relief." "Do you think it can be prophecy?" The questions seemed to make him self-conscious. He shook his head. "No. I think it is nothing at all. A daydream." I forced my voice to match his in lightness. "I'm sure you're right. After all, Hector hasn't done anything to you."

See where I'm going with this? I don't think I need to explain this one.

3. Fatal Flaws

That's right, one of the most essential pieces for a tragedy: hamartia. For those who might not know, hamartia is the fatal flaw that ultimately leads to the downfall of a tragic hero or heroine. In every single piece of classical greek writing, if the story is a tragedy, the main character will have a fatal flaw that makes it so.

Take Achilles:

I looked at the stone of his face, and despaired. “If you love me-”

“No!” His face was stiff with tension. “I cannot! If I yield, Agamemnon can dishonor me whenever he wishes. The kings will not respect me, nor the men!” He was breathless, as though he had run far. “Do you think I wish them all to die? But I cannot. I cannot! I will not let them take this from me!”

You probably already know what his fatal flaw is: pride. He needs the fame, needs the glorious memory of his deeds to live on forever, so badly that he is willing to sacrifice his life and what might’ve been a fulfilling and long life with Patroclus out of the limelight. His fatal flaw is what spurs each of his actions in the later half of the book, including the moment where he decides to leave the Greeks to their deaths for slandering him.

Even Patroclus has a fatal flaw: his love for Achilles.

That night I lay in bed beside Achilles. His face is innocent, sleep-smoothed and sweetly boyish. I love to see it. This is his truest self, earnest and guileless, full of mischief but without malice. He is lost in Agamemnon and Odysseus’ wily double meanings, their lies and games of power. They have confounded him, tied him to a stake and baited him. I stroke the soft skin of his forehead. I would untie him if I could. If he would let me.

Though riding into the center of the fighting, especially dressed as Achilles, will make Patroclus the prime target, he decides to do it anyway. And not out of fear for Achilles’s life; he knows how important his pride and reputation is to him, and out of desperation will do anything to keep Achilles from being devastated when it doesn’t work out for him.

(Honestly, this is the part where I start to hate Achilles for doing this to Patroclus... it’s like he doesn’t even consider Patroclus his equal and does everything without consulting him.)

Of course, Agamemnon has a fatal flaw as well. He is like the mirror image of Achilles, so proud and stubborn, righteous and arrogant. However, he is the darker image, the one that revels in taking things by force and, of course, raping women like Briseis. He serves as a poignant foil for Achilles, highlighting all the ways the traits they share can easily become corrupted. It’s part of why this novel works so well.

I hope you all enjoyed this book as much as I did. Truthfully, I did have a few problems with it, but I wanted to trying picking it apart anyway. And if you haven’t read the song of achilles... what are you doing reading these spoilers?? 

#why can you visibly see where i get tired #achilles #greek myth aesthetic #analysis #patroclus #song of achilles #greece #greek posts #not the language though #this is so long #effort #first time ive ever wanted to write an essay #dark academia #dark acadamia aesthetic #this took me three days #greek mythology #iliad #homer

[babylooneytoonz]

Fear - Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader

Requested by: Anonymous (Thank you! ❤️)

Summary: Tommy and his second wife, Reader, an independent, successful business woman are living a fairly happy marriage until the reader finds out she's pregnant. Things take a wrong turn when their work life clashes with this news and in the end, the Reader takes a devastating decision. Without consulting her husband.

Warnings: Light angst , mentions of abortion, unplanned pregnancy

A/N: Not my best work, I'm so sorry if it wasn't that good.

Gif credit: @nofckingfighting , @thepeakyfookinblinderss ❤️

By the time you and Mr. Thomas Shelby were celebrating your first wedding anniversary, you were swimming in riches, riches not given to you by your husband in love, but gifted to yourself by you, as a part of self pampering. You had been your parent's only child, a girl, and this is how you had been brought up, extremely loved and pampered, but still carved out in a way to face the hardships like a man. While men and young boys left England to fight the war, which included your father, who never returned, you took it upon yourself to take over his business of running the pub he owned, which automatically fell to you after his death.

Soon, your twenty third birthday was upon you, and you found yourself going to Birmingham city for the first time, with the motive in mind to expand your business and open a pub in Birmingham city as well. But for doing that, you realized you needed a plot, and of course, you needed the Peaky Blinders backing you– because Birmingham City was a city of gangsters, latched to each other's throats, fighting their own internal wars and an independent business run by a woman would hardly grow in a city like this.

So, you'd done what any other person would have done in this city. You had met the leader of the Peaky Blinders, who you had no idea would be your husband just two months after that encounter, with the mind to strike a business deal with him.

Of course, you didn't get the plot you had your eyes on– he was not ready to sell it to you for any price that you named, but you did end up piking the gangster's sudden interest. It was only two days after the meeting you started unknowingly bumping into him at all the odd places– the supermarket, the theater and even outside the railway station when you were travelling to and from London.

Finally, giving in to your own secret temptations– it would have been a lie to say that his icy blue eyes did not haunt you at nights, when you were alone in your cold bed ; or that you didn't think twice about his cheekbones, or imagined his taut chiseled body underneath his ivory shirt– you finally agreed to go out with him. And it was amazing. Tommy Shelby courted you for two months until he finally propped the question of marriage.

You could feel Aunt Polly's piercing gaze on you, but you didn't look up from the file you were going through, doing your math in your head, your glasses pushed over the bridge of your nose.

"Jesus, (Y/N), when was the bloody last time you had anything to eat?"

Polly tapped her manicured fingers against your desk, loud enough to make you snap your head towards her. You almost shrug your shoulders incoherently.

"In the morning? I don't remember."

Polly's lips broke into a weak exhale, her hand reaching out and grabbing your file, pulling it away from you.

"What the fuck?" You protested, trying to take your file back but Polly had it securely held, tucked under her arm.

"Enough, love. I'm not going to bloody sit and watch you starve yourself."

"Pol, I'm really not hungry." You whined but let the older woman drag you along towards the dining room anyway because you really needed to stretch your legs.

You and Polly stepped into the dining room of the Arrowe House, sliding yourselves down on chairs next to each other. While you slowly nibbled on a loaf of bread, Polly sat comfortably, her back resting against the backrest of the chair, a lit cigarette in her hand, her eyes on you. You grabbed the cloth, wiping the remainder of your food from the corner of your lips when a loud gasp escaped your lips. You looked down to see Polly's hand groping at your breast, causing you to wince and slap her hand away.

"For fucks sake, Polly? That hurts!." You snapped at her, only to watch a smirk break out over the corner of her lips.

"Sore you say?"

"Its-Its nothing." You whispered, your face suddenly feeling flushed. It was not a surprise to you, for you had known it since a week. The midwife that lived in back in London, the one your mother often went to, before her death, had confirmed it for you. It had been a week of planning and plotting, worrying endlessly, and you had still not made up your mind whether you wanted to have a baby yet or not.

"Does my nephew know?"

You couldn't help but swallow the bile forming in your throat. You had no answer because you couldn't build up the courage to speak to Thomas about it. You wondered how he would react. Of course, he was just as busy with work as you were. You two had two very similar lives. You were two devoted people, devoted and swimming in work and business. You doubted if there was a place of a baby in either of your lives.

"I peg your silence for a no. Let me ask you this, love. When do you plan on telling him? This is indeed a good news."

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Polly spoke again. You drew a faint forced smile over your lips, a pathetic attempt to mask what you were feeling inside – emotional turmoil. As if on cue, Polly's warm palm took your hand in hers, her fingers clasping shut around yours.

"What's on your mind?"

You parted your lips, unsure of how and what you were going to say to her. How were you supposed to tell her that you didn't think that neither Tommy nor you, were perhaps, ready to be parents yet? Your mind was distracted and your hand unknowingly flew to your almost non existent bump, unconsciously stroking over it. Finally, with a finality in your eyes, you pushed your head up and gave Polly a stare down. You knew what you were thinking was the biggest sin in the eye of God, but somehow, it scared you, thinking how this baby's life would be if you actually decided to have it. You feared how this little life that you had created with Tommy would be subjected to a life neglected by the both of yous. Worst of all, you had this deep, lingering fear coiling deep within the pit of your heart, that maybe Tommy wouldn't want it. So before you could let your own heart shatter, hearing him say how he didn't care for the baby that was growing inside of you, how he would ask you to visit this woman who was an expert to deal with these kind of situations, you will confront him yourself and tell him that before he can say it to you.

"I just – I don't feel so well, Pol." You pursed your lips and lied blatantly to her.

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

Your eyes were fixed on the massive pendulum of the grandfather clock in the dining room, swinging sidewards, your palms nervously tapping against the surface of the dining table. You were waiting for your husband to return home because you couldn't delay speaking about this anymore to him. A part of you felt guilty for having kept this a secret from him from such a long time, after all, the baby was his as much as it was yours.

He had every right to know, even if you didn't want to keep it.

Your thoughts were disrupted by the sound of the front door opening. You waited a few minutes until a familiar silhouette approached the dining room, the footsteps getting louder and louder, probably owing to the fact that the lights were switched on. Tommy poked his head through the door and when his eyes fell on you, his eyes softened and he walked inside, towards you.

"Why aren't you in bed, love?"

You could see how tired your husband was, his eyes were droopy, dark bags crimson underneath his swollen eyelids, his face a paler shade. He never listened to you – he just worked and worked and worked, pushing beyond his capacities often, pulling in all nighters, mostly when you didn't even have a clue where he was or what he was doing. The truth was, it were all these reasons that made you feel not ready to be a mother, yet. What were you supposed to do alone? You didn't want to raise this child alone. Just having Tommy's name as his father but hardly ever getting to spend time with him, that scared you.

"I wanted to speak to you." There was a deep silence lingering in the room, only to be broken by the sound of your weak voice.

His lips parted in confusion, his usually calm ocean like eyes slightly widened. He gave you a shake of his head.

"Tommy, I –" You swallowed the lump forming inside your throat. Your heart was wildly hammering inside you chest and it felt like it was going to pop out any second. You took a step closer to him, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

"You want a divorce? Is that what this is?" Tommy's words caused you to take a sharp intake of breath.

"No! I – A divorce? No. I just – Tommy, I'm pregnant." You blurted out.

Tommy froze for a split second, only to finally relax in his posture and reach for his box of cigarettes while his eyes were fixed on you.

"Is it true? Are you really?"

His voice was neutral, you couldn't figure out if he was angry or ecstatic.

"I know Tommy, I know we are fucking busy people, and there's no room in our marriage for a baby. Which is why I'm going to go see that woman the next town, to you know–" Your eyes had watered up and your throat suddenly felt parched. You slowly turned to your side, your face now shielded from Tommy's views. You quickly brought up your sleeve to your eyes and wiped your tears.

"You want to go to that woman next town? To get rid of–" It was as though Thomas was repeating your words to himself, his index finger swaying in the air. Suddenly, he took a step closer to you and snatched the lit cigarette from your hand, bringing it up to his lips, casually. He looked so casual, how could you even know that a storm of rage was brewing up inside him.

"Should I not, Thomas? Are you ready for a baby? Are you then?"

A part of you wanted to hear him say yes, a small maternal side of you, that had already started to love that little foetus inside you deeply. That part of you wanted Thomas Fucking Shelby to stop you and tell you that you two could work through it, that he would make this work. A baby. He would love to have one with you.

"I think it would be for good. You should take Polly with you."

It would have been a lie to say that your heart didn't break at his words. Of course, he wasn't ready. You gave him a weak nod of your head and turned around, walking into your bedroom.

Three days passed and the tension between you and Tommy didn't wash away. He barely spoke to you twice in these three days– not that you had wanted him to– you were as mad as he was. With each passing day, your anxiety and your reluctance had grown. But finally, the day was here. Today, Polly was taking you to this woman the next town.

You and Polly sat at the back of the car, a young Blinder boy driving you to the the location. You couldn't bring yourself to meet her eyes at any cost, so you kept your eyes placed on the passing silhouettes of the old, greying buildings.

"Look at me, will you?" Polly's voice beckoned to you, forcing you to sharply turn your head towards you.

Her eyes were soft, you could see pale wrinkles under her eyes. Her warm palm took yours in hers and squeezed it.

"Us fucking women have been always forced to make difficult choices, love. You know I–" Her lips trembled, her eyes started growing moist. "– If I could bloody go back in time, I would stop myself from giving up on my children. I curse myself (Y/N), every night, even though Michael's here with me now, but I missed his childhood. I missed watching him grow. You know you don't have to do this."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and parted your lips, struggling to push words out of your mouth, to vent out how you really felt, so you lied.

"Polly, we are not ready to be parents. The life we live, as long as it's just me and Tommy, it doesn't worry me. But bringing a child into this world of crime, of death, it would be wrong of me to be so fucking selfish."

"And isn't it selfish of you to deny your baby the chance to choose his own life?"

It felt as though someone had wrapped his palms around your neck and blocked out your oxygen supply. Lucky enough, the car came to a halt and the Blinder boy turned towards you, his eyes drawn to Polly as he informed that you were here. Polly nodded and stepped out, you following.

The street was quiet and lonely, with not many souls in view, unlike the bustling streets of Small Heath. The woman's house was the corner most so you and Polly, wrapping your coats tighter against your bodies to shield yourselves of the chilly wind, walked along until you both were standing against an old looking door with a massive lock on it.

"What the fuck?" You cursed, frowning. "Are we at the right address?"

Polly nodded and shrugged, pulling out her box of cigarettes.

"Of course we are, this is where she lived. Wait, I'll ask the neighbours."

You kept standing there, underneath the porch as Polly walked up to the house next door, her heels clicking against the gravelled floor. You saw her talk to a woman with greying hair, their eyes momentarily turning and fixing on you, making you feel uneasy. Soon, the woman had shut the door and Polly was making her way back to you. You could see that there was a faint smirk ploying across her face.

"Well, seems like your husband was here."

"What? Tommy?" Your eyebrows perked up.

She hummed and nodded, her hand mechanically moving up and her cigarette pressed to her lips.

"The woman said that the Peaky Fucking Blinders paid the woman a visit, and ever since, the woman's gone."

It all made sense now. Of course, Thomas Fucking Shelby. You wondered if he had killed the woman, or just threatened her enough to run away.

"Do you know anyone else?"

"Unfortunately not, but I will see what we can do. For now let's just go back love."

• ───━━━━─ ● ─━━━━─── •

You were fuming.

To say the least, your cheeks felt like they were on fire.

Three days.

Tommy hadn't looked you in the eye.

But today you wanted to confront him.

Ask him the reason why he was interfering in women's business.

So you were waiting. Sitting on the loveseat in your shared bedroom with Thomas Shelby, tapping your fingers against your thighs. It was almost midnight when the door to your bedroom finally opened and Thomas walked in, as usual his cigarette held in his fingers. He had probably hoped to find you in bed , sleeping but when he saw the empty bed, his head sharply turned towards you at first before he forced himself to ignore you and move towards the closet to grab his t-shirt and his boxer shorts.

"Where is that woman Tommy?"

You saw him stiffen for a second before turning around and raising his eyes, until his blue eyes were fixed on yours.

"London, Bristol, I don't care where the fuck she went."

You stood up, walking up to him until you were standing in front of him.

"Why Tommy? What the fuck?"

"Why. Why? WHY? If you can decide and fucking come to a conclusion without even letting me know, why can't I eh?" He screamed, causing you to flinch and step back, still furious.

"This isn't fair Thomas, this fucking isn't fair. These are our matters."

Tommy suddenly grabbed you by your arms, his nails almost digging into your flesh as he almost shook you.

"What did you expect me to do? To just let you go and end what we had created?"

Your heart skipped a beat, your eyes filling up with water.

"You said you didn't care." Your words came out a mere whisper and your body felt like jelly, almost ready to melt into his arms.

"Of course, I fucking care. Is that what you fucking think about me? For fucks sake, I - I know I might not be a good father, I might even fucking be like my own father but that doesn't mean I want you to fucking go and end what we created." Tears were brimming in your eyes and when you blinked, they spilled out, warm salty water rolling down your cheek, a faint smile breaking out on your lips. Tommy's expressions softened and he found his palm reaching for your face, his thumb stroking over your cheek, over your tears. "Why did it even cross your mind? The fucking thought of doing what you were going to do."

You closed your eyes for a brief second and fluttered them open again, leaning into his touch.

"How can we be good parents Tommy if we have a life of our own? Where you can't stop risking your life everyday and I'm not even sure if I would fucking see you again?"

Tommy looked like he could kill you. He had a burning red rage lingering in his eyes but yet, he had a soft look on his face, a look that was only reserved for you. He slowly let go off your arms, looking down at your stomach for a quick second and then back up.

"That child deserves to be allowed to live as much as you or I did, (Y/N). I don't care if I have to change my lifestyle. I don't care if I have to give up on some things that I did before this. I want this child, love. I want this. With you."

A small smile broke out against your lips, but as soon as it had broken out, it washed off again, when the realization hit you.

"Tommy, it's not easy. It's a lifetime commitment. From you. From me. It means keeping our baby safe from whatever it is that could potentially harm it."

His warm palms grabbed your cheeks, pulling your face upwards to meet his gaze.

"I promise you love, no one would lay a fucking finger on you or our baby and live."

You knew what he meant was true – every single word of it – and you didn't doubt on what Thomas Fucking Shelby could do for his family. This scared you a little but you closed your eyes, telling yourself to trust on the man that loved you, and who loved the baby growing inside of you, he would never let any harm come to you or your baby.

[ Tagging list : @captivatedbycillianmurphy @theamuz ]

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders

[gruviafan-forever]

GRUVIA WEEK- DAY III

"DISCOVERY"

When Gray had reported the drone issues to Erza and Mr Dreyar, the agency was in fix about who could be going to this extent to know about one of their actor's personal lives.

"Looks like there are still some reporters who believe that photos stuff,"

Makarov said while rubbing his forehead.

"But Master didn't we announce it's just a hoax that should have calmed everyone down" Erza reasoned.

"That's not the case, Erza. It's more like these people are working to uncover Gray's secret and create some scandalous sensations" 

Makarov said and tried calling his grandson, Laxus Dreyar who works in the police department.

After informing Laxus, Makarov seemed to have calmed down. That's when Erza informed Gray's decision to unravel his marriage.

"It's high time. However, it's a good decision" Makarov said with a smile.

He knew how hard Gray has worked for these four years to shape his career.

"Let's hope it goes accordingly. Tell Mr Jason to come and meet me. He needs to prepare an article about this and publish it the very next day of the award function on Sorceress Weekly. Also, I need to talk with Gray tomorrow, do inform him, Erza" Makarov informed.

"Yes Master," Erza said with a smile.

#

NEXT MORNING 

Gray got ready for the upcoming event and told her he could come late at night so that they don't wait for him for dinner.

"Yes, Gray-sama. Today I was planning to take Yuki to the park so that she could play with kids of her age. But after what happened yesterday, I decided not to," Juvia said and was adjusting Gray's coat.

Gray began to ponder before he spoke again, "I know it's not right to keep her inside the house and deny her playing freedom. But the situation calls for it, we have to bear for a few more days, Juvia."

He said confidently and kissed her forehead.

It was still 9 AM and Yuki was still fast asleep. So the couple had time for themselves to enjoy their company.

"Sure Gray-sama. You take care. Don't go getting rigid suddenly. Be smiling and welcome your fans warmly. It's because of them you have gained this popularity, remember that Gray-sama."

Juvia lectured her husband like every time any event comes up.

"Yes, madam"

Gray rolled his eyes and smiled at the end. At times, she treated him like a child which he secretly liked.

"Good boy, now get going. I have a lot of chores to do today. If possible, can we go to the supermarket? They're few things which we need to purchase." Juvia consulted him.

Gray agreed and told them to be wary of their surroundings.

"Don't let Yuki wander off on her own. She's such a ball of energy. I know she is a bit difficult to control but look after her. I will take my leave, bye, wifey."

Gray leaned forward to kiss her lips and got one in return.

After bidding bye to her husband, Juvia got freshened up to kick start her day before her daughter woke up.

Soon Gray reached the mentioned location, he was escorted by his manager through the back exit.

"Good morning, Erza"

"Happy morning, Gray. How's Juvia and Yuki doing?"

"Oh, they are doing great. Did Mr Dreyar say anything about the issue?" Gray questioned her.

"Yeah… he wants to meet you after this event. So get ready for that."

Erza informed them and soon they reached the main cabin where every celebrity under the Fairy Tail banner was present.

They greeted each other before Gray went to his friend, Natsu Dragneel and his girlfriend, Lucy Heartfilia.

They bumped their fist and the first thing Natsu asked about was Yuki and Juvia.

Almost every single member of Fairy Tail knew about him so it was not a piece of surprise news for them.

"They are good. Juvia's been calling you two for dinner. Why don't you come by one day? And you too, Erza. Come with your boyfriend."

Gray teased the red-haired woman who had the courtesy to blush on hearing about her love interest.

"Sure, we will come by, once we get to enjoy some free time,"

Natsu said and Lucy nodded in agreement.

That's when Gajeel decided to enter their group. It had been three years since he joined Fairy Tail after his Phantom Band got disbanded.

It was Juvia who proposed Gajeel join this big agency. Gray had spoken about this to Mr Dreyar on his girlfriend's insistence.

Mr Dreyar readily agreed after seeing his performance, ever since, then, Gajeel had been performing for this agency. 

His popularity soared after his debut. Gajeel was very much grateful to both Gray and Juvia.

Gajeel had insisted Juvia continue being his lyricist but she denied it as the agency had appointed their best Lyricist, Levy McGarden to aid her best friend.

Juvia knew Gajeel was smitten by her and didn't have the heart to the third wheel behind them.

Moreover, things happened which made her quit the part-time job which she was doing.

"Yo guys, it's been a long since I saw you all in existence. How's everything going on?"

Gajeel greeted and began with the conversation.

Gray greeted him back and soon everyone started to discuss the event and its aftermath.

#

It had been a month since Gray and Juvia had levelled up their relationship.

Gray's first tv drama shooting has been wrapped up. In a few more episodes, the drama reaches its conclusion.

For now, Gray enjoyed his free time before the shooting for the next drama commences.

The last two days were hectic for both of them as the agency had ordered Gray to move out of that lodging apartment to other high society flats which they had arranged for him.

This move was taken to avoid fans and reporters gathering around his place and prevented them from invading his privacy.

Juvia was sad hearing this news as now she will be left alone in his apartment.

Even her best friend had moved out to give privacy to her and Gray, same was the case with Gray, Natsu had moved out a couple of months as soon as he signed up for his first tv series.

Juvia tried to remain bold and not to tear up but nothing could get past Gray's eyes.

"Juvia"

"Juvia"

Gray pouted, she was not paying attention to him and was just staring blankly at his shirt.

To remove her from trance, Gray hugged her from behind which startled her.

"Gray-sama"

"Oi!! What's with the long face? I have never seen you thinking like this. Are you perhaps trying to ditch me?" Gray teased her and kissed her neck.

Juvia turned around and hit his chest, "Don't joke like that. You know how much I love you. Stupid Gray"

Juvia sounded serious especially when he heard her calling him 'Gray'.

She never called him by name without a suffix. That's when he noticed she was crying.

Gray began to fidget and cupped her face, "Hey dear, what happened? Why are you crying?" He asked her worriedly.

Juvia began to wipe her tears off but it never stopped until she told him the reason.

"I feel we will stay apart, Gray-sama, emotionally too. I'm scared that I will be left all alone once again in my life. Of course, I'm being clingy on you but I couldn't help it."

She conveyed her feelings and hugged her lover tightly.

Gray felt happy that she opened up her fear. Even he didn't want to move away from her and from the morning was thinking of asking her to move in with me as his fiancee.

Yes, Gray wanted to marry her and have a lovely life with her. He knew from these 7 months of dating, that she was born for him and he for her.

He was going to propose to her tonight but it looks like the plan needs to be executed at the moment to make her feel assured of their relationship.

"Juvia, I.." 

Before Gray could say anything, Juvia fell unconscious in his arms. He tried to wake her up but it was futile.

He carried her to the bedroom and went out to call a doctor from a nearby clinic.

Once the doctor had come and checked her up, Gray felt relief that she was alright and nothing to worry about except...

"WHAT??" Gray shrieked.

"Yes, Mr Fullbuster. Your girlfriend is pregnant. Congratulations, once Juvia wakes up, give her the medicine and go and visit the gynaecologist, they will guide you from there."

The doctor left him after advising him how to take care of a pregnant woman.

Gray couldn't believe what was happening at the moment. He had mixtures of thoughts and emotions.

But predominantly, it was happiness. He is going to be a father, that too really soon. He was going to lead a happy life with his beloved.

Soon, he was going to have a family which he and Juvia were denied from starting, this brought him happy tears and thanked the Gods for such a second chance.

Now all he hoped for was Juvia to feel the same as him.

After 30 minutes, Juvia woke up from her sleep, the first thing she saw was Gray resting beside her.

Juvia smiled at him and ruffled his hairs and that's when she noticed the ring on her finger. 

She couldn't believe her eyes and closed her mouth with her palms to avoid shouting.

Slowly, Gray woke up and saw his girlfriend's surprised expression which brought a smile to his face.

"Well, calm down, Juvia" 

Hearing his voice, Juvia pulled him into a hug and shouted 'yes'.

Gray chuckled, " I didn't even ask you yet"

Juvia began rubbing her face against his and kissed his forehead,

"I will marry you, Gray-sama."

Gray kissed her lips, "I was actually planning to do it tonight after dinner but here, I'm asking you 'Will you marry me?' "

"1000 times Yes… I'm waiting to live my life with you, Gray-sama…"

"So do I, dear"

Gray kissed her again.

Once their adrenaline has calmed down, Gray slowly broke the news.

"You know what, I found out something. Can you take a guess?"

Gray asked her while squeezing her palms.

Juvia wondered what it could be and accepted her defeat. Now she was curious what this could be.

"We are going to be parents. You are pregnant, Juvia. You are gonna be mama and I'm gonna be papa."

He said with a big smile and kissed her palm.

Then, he told her everything from the moment she fainted to till doctors departure.

Juvia was shedding happy tears and caressing her flat tummy for now. She was going to be a mother, she was going to have her own family now which she longed for since her childhood.

"Are you happy, Gray-sama?"

She wanted to know his feelings.

"My happiness goes beyond this world. I'm happy that we are gonna start be a family together. Juvia, let's get married tomorrow."

Gray shared his piece of mind.

"Thank you for sharing the same feeling as mine, Gray-sama. I love you a lot." Juvia said earnestly.

The very next day, they got their marriage registered in an office. Gray casually informed the recent events of his life to friends and Mr Dreyar.

They were shell shocked yet wished them both happiness enough for their life ahead.

That's when Mr Dreyar had told him to hide this news from the public as Gray was still a budding artist and this could hamper this growth.

Juvia agreed and supported this decision and even convinced Gray to agree with this. It's after sorting out these issues they finally went to their new home.

#gruvia #gruviaweek #gruvia week 2021 #gruvia week

[galladerocksgamer]

Okay so I love the Paranormal Liberation War arc, it does so much fantastic stuff, dang near perfect across the board. But I think it’s pretty widely felt that the pacing got a bit off the rails near the end, we had big reveals and character moments stacking up and half of them barely even felt relevant. And me being the person who just thinks about things in depth and for long periods, I’ve still been dwelling on it for months. And now as the manga has continued, I’m finally seeing how some of the aforementioned War moments could have been better executed in different situations, because honestly this latest arc seems like it would have been tailor-made to address them all. So lemme take a closer look at three different components here: Mirio/Eri, Bakugo, and Hawks.

1. Mirio and Eri

Probably the most random moment from the war’s climax, don’t think anyone was predicting the sudden return of Mirio to battle. I love Mirio, he’s one of my favorite characters, but it was a pretty anticlimactic way to bring him back into the fold. He doesn’t even really bring anything special to the battle, nothing uniquely Mirio. His role is just backing up Best Jeanist against the Nomu, and anyone could have done that. Burnin could’ve arrived sooner, or Manual and Rock Lock could’ve come back after getting the injured heroes to safety. Heck, if you still wanted the Nighteye agency to be involved, then Bubble Girl and Centipeder could’ve been the cavalry to help Jeanist. But instead Mirio returns unexpectedly and none too remarkably.

And on top of that, we’re basically just told “oh by the way Eri has some control of her power now.” Something that the series had been building up toward for awhile just … occurs off-screen with no forewarning. Really feels like a disservice to Eri and her development to not give that intense moment any real spotlight.

It felt extremely weird for me at the time, but I also kinda wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the coming arcs just couldn’t afford to place focus on Eri and Mirio, so their respective developments were tied together to lend an extra surprise to the war’s final bout. But instead this most recent arc has gone the opposite route … through the return of Chisaki.

The man once known as Overhaul, now thoroughly broken and wanting nothing more than to fix his one great regret. With Nagant’s defeat, he winds up back in custody, but having now once again met with Midoriya and made his wish known. So indeed, the opportunity arises for Eri and Mirio to be brought back to the forefront. I don’t doubt that we will indeed have at least a brief glimpse at Eri healing Chisaki’s boss as Midoriya promised, but the potential for that scene could really have been through the roof if it was the impetus for Eri to willingly use her power on a person for the first time.

Imagine Midoriya coming to Eri with that heavy request, of Eri deciding to offer this kindness toward Chisaki of all people, using her power to heal before the man who always told her that she could only destroy. Because really, I don’t think there’d be a question of that, we know the kind of kid Eri is, and she won’t let anyone suffer if there’s any way she could prevent it. Even if Chisaki was the person asking, there might be hesitation and fear, but is there any doubt she’d offer what aid she could in the end? And for Pops to be the first person she helps, to undo the harm carelessly inflicted by Chisaki … well, it’d certainly be poetic.

As for Mirio in this scenario, that could go a couple ways. Route 1: Eri is hesitant to help Chisaki with Pops because she would rather help Mirio get his Quirk back, and we know that her power seems to have a bit of a limit on it via the energy stored in her horn. So what if it did work, but she ran out of juice healing Pops and then made Mirio wait even longer? Well, of course that’s exactly what he’d insist on, he wouldn’t let himself take priority over another person in need of Eri’s help. And he’d take it all in good spirits as always. Or Route 2, if there was concern that Eri’s power could run wild while trying to help Pops, then they could go the complete opposite direction and have Mirio offer to go first, to be the guinea pig for Eri in case of emergency. But of course, he’d have full faith in her all along and coax her through, ensuring her of just how helpful and brave she always is.

So yes, can see how Eri and Mirio’s development could have taken a more satisfying route, and cap us off with some good ole Chisaki angst to boot (though at least we’ve still got a decent serving of that). Now moving on …

2. Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight

So Bakugo’s long and arduous journey of personal growth reached a new peak during the battle with Shigaraki, where his body moved without thinking and he underwent his true heroic awakening to protect Midoriya. Such a sacrifice seems like a perfect cap for his development for the War arc … and then a couple chapters later he forces himself right back into action to back up Best Jeanist, and as promised he reveals his over-the-top hero name to his mentor. In this case I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with the reveal, but in light of his preceding big heroic action, it really feels like a hat on a hat.

It’s not like Bakugo’s hero name heralded some major turning point for the battle; Jeanist’s arrival (and subsequently Mirio’s) had already assured that. And like Mirio, there wasn’t any real special reason for Bakugo to rejoin the fight with the Nomu, especially with Iida and Hado on the scene. After getting skewered by Shigaraki, it would have been pretty simple for Bakugo to just spend the rest of the fight bleeding unconscious on the ground, rather than complicating matters by shoving him back into the fray. And ultimately, the moment feels a bit anticlimactic. All the suspense waiting for Bakugo’s hero name, and then it’s revealed at a time where he barely even has the spotlight.

Of course, such a bombastic name as “Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight” doesn’t particularly lend itself to a quiet or emotional scene, so it wouldn’t be thematically fitting to move that revelation to Bakugo’s hospital bed or his somber apology to Midoriya. That said, given his decision to announce the name first to Jeanist, there would at least be precedent for him to have a “Dabi says secrets in a black speech bubble” moment in the hospital in which he talks to Jeanist but leaves the readers in the dark, before coming back to the actual audience reveal later on.

And there must certainly be other opportunities to present the name appropriately. Bakugo is a master of making an explosive entrance, after all. And when Class 1-A finally catches up to Midoriya, if Bakugo really wanted to make a big impact on his friend/rival before getting into the sentimental stuff, then it would be a prime chance to reveal his hero name in grandiose fashion, both to Midoriya and the audience.

Or if his hero name had been Kacchan, then that reveal would have fit right in with his apology to Midoriya, but that’s neither here nor there

This could be one scenario, of course, but it hardly feels like that would’ve been the only option. And compared to the crammed-in reveal in the final fight with the League, it’s easy to say that there could have been plenty of smoother roads to take.  But setting that aside, moving onto the final touch:

3. Hawks

The long-awaited Hawks backstory doesn’t really disappoint. Admittedly, there weren’t really a lot of holes necessary to fill in there; we’d had enough bits and pieces provided before this point to pretty much put together the whole picture of his crummy childhood. But even without any really surprising turns, the flashback is welcome and hits some good emotional beats. But really, the glaring issue in this area is the timing.

We’re presented this backstory at an instance where Hawks is hardly the most relevant character. Shigaraki is undergoing a personal crisis as All For One seizes the reigns of his own body, Endeavor’s dark history has been exposed and the Todoroki family is in turmoil, escapees from Tartarus roam the streets, and Midoriya consults internally with the vestiges of One For All ... and the narrative decides to take a chapter to look at Hawks. Practically nothing from his flashback directly relates to present events, serving only to further emphasize his already well-established devotion to Endeavor and his (misguided) understanding of Twice’s feelings. The timing is just kind of baffling, especially with some other more appropriate places being readily apparent.

For instance, only a dozen chapters later, we’re properly introduced to Lady Nagant. As Hawks’s predecessor within the Hero Commission, the two have a lot in common, and the similarities and differences between the two could set up some interesting comparisons if Hawks’s backstory was saved to follow up Nagant’s. Two idealistic young children, handpicked by the Commission and groomed into assassins, yet whose outlooks in the present day are starkly opposed? Nagant's guilt driving her to turn on the Commission, while Hawks holds few regrets despite the blood on his hands, longing for freedom from the Commission’s grasp? That kind of parallel could really have built a more solid foundation for Hawks’s past to be laid upon.

That could be an effective setup, but there’s another approach I’d actually much rather have seen, one that brings Hawks’s backstory not later, but earlier: during the dramatic confrontation between Hawks and Dabi. The instant that Dabi reveals he knows Hawks’s real name, the story opens itself up perfectly to dive into his past. And the timing would be superb, showing Hawks at his worst as he murders Twice, then turning back the clock to look at the innocent child who just wants to save people. A little boy whose feathers tingle with the need to rescue those in need, superimposed against the man whose same feathers are used to deliver the killing blow to a victim of hero society’s ills. You want angst? Now that’s how you do angst. Placing the backstory there would play up the tragedy of both Hawks and Twice simultaneously: a “hero” raised by the Commission to cut threats to their control short at the root, and a “villain” who could have been a kindred spirit but instead suffers for their would-be friendship.

And that’s not even the icing on the cake. The real matter of interest here comes in Hawks’s view of Endeavor. By the time we get to Hawks’s backstory, all of Japan has already learned of Endeavor’s history from Dabi, and the result of the timing feels a smidge tone-deaf, and fails to realize the full potential resonance of the situation. The flashback to young Hawks as a victim of child abuse, who is rescued (unwittingly) when Endeavor arrests his father, is presented to us as the moment when Hawks realized that heroes are real, not merely a fantasy. We see why he developed such an ideal view of heroes, and why he is so specifically loyal to Endeavor ... so just imagine if all that was presented during his showdown with Dabi. Imagine if all that came before the tragic revelation of Toya Todoroki. The true terrible irony, that Hawks was rescued from his abusive father by someone secretly guilty of the same crimes, that Hawks’s whole epiphany of “real heroism” was founded upon one of the most corrupt enforcers of all.

The end result would be the same, I’m sure. After all, this is certainly the same thought process Hawks was going through all along, and his decision to maintain his faith in Endeavor’s personal growth would presumably remain unchanged. But presenting Hawks’s backstory before Dabi’s would have opened up a lot more room for us as the audience to actually see Hawks’s views be challenged. If there’s one real complaint I’ve got about Hawks’s character, it’s that we don’t really tend to see him questioning himself or his actions; whatever happens, he rolls with it and presses on, no matter how his ideals are brought into question. But this simple matter of timing could go a long ways to remedying that, granting the audience the chance to watch Hawks grapple with his personal image of and approach to heroism, and his relationship with Endeavor, rather than allowing most of that to pass unseen in the wake of the war’s end. Even if he would ultimately come to the same conclusion, at least such a narrative structure would provide a much more satisfying presentation of his struggle up to that point.

So, I’m not great at endings, but that brings us to the conclusion of my rambling though process here. To recap, the more I’ve thought about it, the more obvious it is that the backloaded War arc could be remedied, and the following arc only made that more obvious. Why force Mirio’s return so soon when he could be tied in later with Eri mastering her powers and the desperate pleas of Chisaki? Why shove in Bakugo’s hero name when the boy has already made a tremendous impact on the arc, and will be more open to further focus during the conflict with Deku in the next? And why throw in Hawks’s backstory as a standalone chapter at a time when it’s largely irrelevant, when there was such great potential to emotionally contrast him with the backstory of Nagant or Dabi? These are the kinds of things I think about. Little things, really, and honestly the whole reason they stand out to me is just that the rest of the arc around them is so dang fantastic. So … yes. This is the testament to my love for this manga, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk, byeeeeee

#mha #bnha #mha manga spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #paranormal liberation war

[voltagesmutter]

Safe Sex HeadCannon

“Safe sex is an act of self love.”

Suggestive topics ahead, all promoting safe sex with the 2D men of MLQC

Victor:

Only uses premium condom brands, buys ribbed because this man is all about your pleasure.

Supports your choice if you wish to want to take the contraceptive pill or have the injection, but will refuse to finish in you, always pulling out on to your thighs (Can not risk having little baby Victors without being married, whatever would the investors say).

Most sensible across all the others when it comes to protection, wants sex to be extremely pleasurable for you both however also safe. Will go down on you if your out of condoms (An extreme rarity), refuses to risk it, couldn’t bear to put you in a situation you was not prepared for (WOULD GLADLY BEAR VICTORS BABIES ANYDAY).

After a heavy petting session in his office, things getting getting heated quickly but ended in oral due to him having nothing on him (This man never actually thought he would get to fuck you in his office). Now keeps a big stash in his desk draw.

However, he loves you regardless and doesn’t care what anyone else thinks so if you get pregnant you have a truly wonderful man who will be there throughout your side through thick and thin.

Once married, you finally sit down and talk about the future together, deciding to wait for kids until Victor has someone trained to co-manage the company for him so he can dedicate all his time to you and your budding family. 

When you finally decide to try for kids, all protection is out the window. The first time you feel Victor raw as he finishes in you, it’s addictive to you both, unable to hold back from the sensation. He indulges in you everywhere he can, work, home, car, souvenir, your husband can not get enough of filling you. 

It’s not surprising your pregnant within 4 months of trying, the man’s cock is practically buried in you 24/7. 

Kiro:

This boy has one of the highest sex drives ever. 

Condoms literally scattered everywhere, he has to have you whenever you're alone, wherever that maybe. 

Best believe this boy has his own brand of condoms “Kiros ‘K’ondoms” available world wide. His face and cheeky wink plastered all over the box, sold out within minutes of release in shops. 

He loves sex with you and wants to use his status to promote sex safety and sexual consent as best he can. 

Kiro rigorously tested them on you, claiming it was ‘product testing’.

You consider the option of the injection to help ease the pain of your periods, especially since they have a timing to sync up to when Kiro is finally free for a few days. 

You face a issue once where a condom split, neither releasing until it was too late, however luckily Kiro thrusted at a missing angle spilling inside the broken rubbed against your clit. Panic rushes into both of you. The embarrassment as you have to speak to Savin about the situation as both of you are unsure what to do. Savin gets you the emergency pill for you to take, the world knows you as Kiro’s girlfriend therefore unable to go in and purchase it yourself, it would send social media into an online frenzy. 

Kiro cuddles you and supports your decision to take it, even though he didn’t come inside you, it was a risk you both weren't ready to take. He held you tight as you cried, heavily embarrassed over the situation, him apologising over and over until he could speak no more. You spend the next day with the worst stomach cramps but Kiro’s right next to you, bring endless supplies of snacks and video games for you to play. 

Kiro loves you deeply so regardless what happens, he’s there standing with you and supporting you through it all. 

Luckily, your safe this time, but it makes both of you realise the seriousness of safety and therefore invest in other contraceptive methods, educating you both after your little incident. 

Gavin:

Gavin gets so lost in the heat of the moment the first time you have sex he spills inside you, you extremely grateful you was on the pill. 

You take the opportunity to talk about your contraceptive methods, you with a latex allergy, it made sense for you to be on the pill or the injection. 

Gavin loves you purely, he wants the best option for you so books in with you to have consultations with the doctors, him attending (Only as long as it’s okay with you, which it is seeing how red he goes when you begin to talk about your sex life).

With the recommendations from medical professionals you opt for the injection, the coil and implant in your arm was a close second but both options frightened you and Gavin refused to put you in an uncomfortable situation.

Sex becomes much more intimate with Gavin since, him admiring your body each time, still unable to process that you picked him. That you love him. That you give your body to him, over and over again, letting him fill you with his seed.

When Gavin proposes, you talk about your future with children, both of you desperate to create a child together (Which would be the most loved child within the world). 5 months before the wedding you stop taking the injection due to it taking up to a year for your fertility levels to settle as soon as your married Gavin plans on spending every moment getting you pregnant. 

Girl please. This man got you pregnant on your wedding night. 

The raw emotions and passion between you both as neither of you expected to find out 3 months after your wedding that you were pregnant, a true cliche but the most perfect sign that you were made and meant for each other. 

Lucien:

A god of knowing your body. This man knew you like the back of his hand, tracking your cycles and ovulations as to calculate the risks of your intimacy. 

As a scientist, he knows the best contraceptive methods for you and wants to help you understand. He gives you in-depth talks about options before pointing out what is most suitable for you which you both decide is the mini-pill which stops your periods completely. This is due to the pain you experience on your period, cramps forcing you off work as you lie doubled over in bed after vomiting. It breaks Lucien's heart to see you in so much pain and suffering hence why he slightly pushes you towards the mini-pill.

He will never finish in you, not unless you're begging for him to do so (Which lets be honest you are almost every time)but he also likes to paint your thighs, lower stomach or breasts with his release. A marking claim of him on you.

He downloads an app for you to remind you to take your pill if he’s not with you, he knows how forgetful you can be at times! But the routine quickly falls into sync and throughout all your time together you’ve never missed a pill once!

You’d never spoken about children with Lucien, you presumed the conversation would come up after you was engaged and married however it came faster than you thought. You had been babysitting a close friend's newborn in your shared apartment with Lucien, his face focusing on the sheer glow of you as you cooed and tended to every need, the smile radiating off your face as you cuddled the newborn close to you. 

“Motherhood suits you,” He smiles as you watch the baby slip into a peaceful slumber in the cot in your living room. 

“I think it’s just a woman's motherly instinct,” You laugh back, unable to take your glowing eyes off the tiny bundle of joy. You don’t take your eyes off of her until you feel Lucien pulling you in his lap.

“I want to see you this happy everyday,” He hugs you close to him.

“I’m always happy with you Lucien,”.

“I think you could be happier,” His words making your heart race, was he about to break up with you?

“No-one can make me happier than you,”.

“I’m not so sure on that, I think a perfect balance of us could,” Your heart pounding, almost fluttering.

“Lucien, are you suggesting-” You start.

“Let's have a baby”. 

It wasn’t even a discussion, both of you wanting and giving into the idea. 

Lucien had a timeframe of your fertility mapped and printed out, refusing to do anything on your most fertile days, even making you phone in sick to work so he could try to impregnate you. 

It wasn’t easy and it didn’t happen overnight, months of endless trying until one day the pregnancy test changed from blank to two solid lines. 

Shaw:

Wdf is a condom?

Literally the definition of accidental or unplanned pregnancy.

Basically expects you to take care of contraception, what ever method you choose he is happy with as long as he finish inside your or over your thighs. 

Seriousness kicks in, deciding to become part of the contraception discussion, when you have a pregnancy scare after a missed period but it’s due to the change over of your contraceptive pill. However he loves you truly, through he’s too stubborn to admit it, will stick by your side whatever happens. 

Secretly loves the idea that one day you might carry his child and he can’t wait for that.

#mlqc #mlqc headcanon #mr love queen's choice #mr love queens choice victor #mlqc victor #mr love victor #mlqc kiro #mr love kiro #mr love queen's choice kiro #mlqc gavin #mr love gavin #mr love queen's choice gavin #mr love lucien #mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice lucien #mlqc shaw #mr love shaw #mr love queen's choice shaw #mr love li zeyan #mr love

[unitchiefs-blackbirdphoenix]

Opportunities Will Come And Go

Summary: JJ leaves to run the New Orleans field office, and she and Emily have their last conversation with each other.

Read on AO3

Emily had heard the rumors. JJ was planning to leave D.C. to go to New Orleans with her family. The older woman frowned at the thought. She was leaving for the second time. How badly did JJ want to leave her home? On the one hand, Emily knows their job isn’t exactly the easiest one in the world. On the other, she knew JJ loved her job, and showed so much dedication and resilience.

Emily walked through the small aisle, picking at her fingernail and rubbing a thumb over it. Her eyes scanned over the jet to find the top of a blonde head. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head and slowly walked over to her, so as to not startle her.

JJ sensed movement in her peripherals, despite the music playing in her earphones, and looked up to see Emily sliding into the seat across from her. She brightly smiled at her and used one hand to shake the earphones out.

“Hey,” Emily softly greeted with a smile of her own, folding her hands together on the table. “Can I bug you for a second?”

JJ gave a small nod. “Please do.”

“There’s a rumor floating around.”

JJ scoffed, knowing who exactly told Emily. “Penelope.” Of course .

“Is New Orleans something you’re seriously considering?” Emily asked. It might have been a bit of wishful thinking, but JJ heard a pleading tone in her voice and her heart ached at the sound. Did Emily not want her to leave?

She shook her head and shrugged. “I don’t know. It… sort of came out of nowhere. B- but believe me, I’m not gonna do anything without consulting all of you first,” she tried her best to reassure Emily.

JJ found out she was offered to run the New Orleans field office when she and her family visited Will’s family in New Orleans. Initially, she was shocked that they wanted her to fill in that position, and was torn about leaving the BAU that she barely slept a wink on their flight back to D.C. JJ had kept the secret from the team, but tried to avoid Emily the most, as best as she possibly could. As far as JJ knew, she had only told Spencer and Penelope before work, but apparently it had spread amongst their coworkers.

“They would be lucky to have you.”

JJ couldn’t help but smile at Emily’s statement. All of a sudden, she felt her cheeks flush a light pink and she looked at the window, hiding her blush from the woman in front of her. Emily was always so proud of JJ, and the blonde readily accepted her compliments without hesitation or doubt. JJ was going to miss that.

“But,” Emily continued. “Something to factor in, you know, should things get serious. If I were to move on from my position, I had you in mind to take over as unit chief,” she finished, gauging in JJ’s reaction.

“Whoa, wait. Are you-” JJ blinked as she tried to comprehend Emily’s words. Was this a hypothetical question or a genuine one? She’s not leaving too, is she?

Emily shook her head. “No. At least, not until I’ve consulted with all of you,” she said. “But I wanted you to know that when you weigh your options.”

JJ shyly smiled again. She didn’t know what Emily meant by that offer, but she was flattered that she was her first choice as the successor of her role as unit chief.

“That’s all,” Emily finished with a small smile, standing up from her seat and walking away.

“Emily?”

It was soft and quiet, and Emily turned her head the same time JJ did. Brown and blue eyes were locked with one another. Emily raised her eyebrows, a spark of hope in her eyes.

JJ wanted to tell her at that moment. She wanted to say “I love you” and “I’m gonna stay” to Emily. Her mind was conflicting her courage to make her decision right then and there, and ask Emily to beg her to stay.

JJ’s eyes broke the nearly intimate exchange as she shifted them in thought. “Um…” Come on, Jareau, just say it . “Thank you,” she nodded instead. With a small laugh, she looked up at Emily again, “That means a lot that you said that.”

Emily silently nodded and walked away, leaving JJ with her thoughts again. The blonde looked down and mentally kicked herself for not telling Emily. What was she going to do? Should she go take that job offer to be special agent in charge of the New Orleans field office or stay and become unit chief? Should she go to Louisiana and live a new life there or stay in the BAU and watch Emily continue to accept gifts and affection from Andrew?

It was a lot to process and so, JJ plugged her earphones in before glancing out the window.

*****************************************************************************************

It was a day of celebration for Penelope. Everyone was congratulating her on her new job and saying their farewells. JJ’s eyes scanned the backyard quickly before she excused herself, tearing her body away from Will's and giving him a small smile. Before walking away, she lightly squeezed Emily's arm, signalling that she wanted her to follow. Emily furrowed her eyebrows in confusion but followed anyway, letting Andrew know she was going to be gone for a few minutes.

JJ walked to the back door of Rossi’s mansion, and held it open for Emily. She closed it behind them and rubbed her hands together, taking a deep breath.

"What was that?" Emily asked, pointing a finger towards the backyard. "The arm squeeze?"

"Um, you’re good," JJ said with an exhale. "Tonight’s not about me, ok?”

Emily slowly nodded. “Ok…” she squinted her eyes at her questioningly. “But there’s something.”

JJ sighed and played with her hands. “Will and I decided… it’s time for a change.” Well, that was mostly a lie. JJ had told Will she wanted to leave and he asked if that’s what she really wanted, in which she, after a few moments, said yes.

“I’m going.” JJ said with confidence.

She had about a week to make up her mind about the two options she had, and finally decided to tell Will what she wanted.

“What are you talking about, JJ?” Will asked, muffled by a toothbrush in his mouth.

“I think I’m going to run the field office back in New Orleans.”

Will had to spit out the toothpaste and rinse before turning around to face his wife. He saw that she was playing with her fingers and staring at the bathroom mirror, not him. He grabbed a towel to wipe his mouth and grabbed JJ’s hands in his.

“Are you sure that’s what you want? I know how much you love your family here. And your job,” he pointed out. He didn’t want to force JJ into anything that huge, especially because he had already become more supportive of her and her work later in their relationship.

JJ looked down at the floor and their hands for a moment, rubbing soothing circles on his hands with her thumbs. She needed to ground herself a little to remind herself why she wanted to take this risk. She couldn’t be doing this because of Emily and Andrew’s relationship, that would seem a bit selfish and impulsive. It does seem like a great position for her. She had some experience in leading people most of her life.

JJ finally nodded and squeezed his hands. "I'm sure. I mean, we said we'd call it at some point, right? Maybe this is our chance." She wasn't sure if she was convincing more, Will or herself. Maybe she wanted to call it and work a much easier but still stressful job. Maybe she wanted to call it to let Emily and herself be happy.

Will smiled. "Ok, let's do it."

Emily felt her heart sinking to her stomach, knowing what JJ meant. “You’re gonna run the New Orleans office,” she said in more of a statement than a question.

JJ bit her bottom lip and nodded. “I am,” she murmured, choosing not to make any more eye contact with Emily. “But if Penelope finds out-”

“No, I won’t.” Emily shook her head, cutting her off. “Not tonight. I am so excited for you guys,” she lied. Well, sort of. She really couldn’t believe JJ was actually thinking about leaving again.

“I’m so sorry, Emily. I know how much you wanted that FBI director position and I just completely ruined it," JJ frowned and started to apologize.

“No.” Emily shook her head again and smiled. “No, it’s not your fault. Uh, I guess now’s a good time to tell you that I got taken off the list.”

“Oh my god,” JJ gasped with a hand over her mouth. “Emily, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s ok. Really.” Emily assured with a smile. “I’ll still be unit chief, but… I guess things will be different, huh? I mean, with you and Penelope gone.”

JJ nodded. “I guess so.” She glanced at the floor, still fumbling with her fingers. Emily tilted her head to the side and noticed this.

“JJ.” Her head shot up at her name. “There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

JJ looked at the backyard behind her and saw Andrew getting along with everyone. Her eyes drifted downwards again. He's a good guy. He's good for her . She turned back to Emily. It’s now or never, she thought with a sigh.

“I love you, Emily.”

Emily gave a confused but small smile. “I love you, too, JJ.”

JJ shook her head. “No. I mean, I love you. You know…” she gestured vaguely with a shrug of her shoulder.

Emily’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth in shock. Oh . “Oh. I don’t know what-”

JJ humorlessly chuckled with a wave of her hand. “It’s fine. I didn’t really expect you to say anything. I just wanted to,” she let out a puff, “get this off my chest.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know…" JJ shrugged again. "For a while now.” She took a shaky breath and chewed on her bottom lip again. “I couldn’t do anything about it because we were both living different lives. Our own lives. I was married- um, still am, and you were in London. Now… we’re here and with other people.”

Emily was trying to process everything in her brain. JJ loved her, and still does. All these years, Emily wasn’t the only one who felt some sort of attraction or romantic feelings between the two of them at some point. She was afraid that JJ wouldn’t like her back, so she never said anything.

“Emily?” JJ began to feel anxious. “Please say something, or don’t say anything.”

Emily blinked before smiling. “I love you, too, JJ.”

JJ shook her head in surprise. “You’re not just saying that to spare my feelings, are you?”

“No. I do love you. I always have, but… like you said, we both have our own lives now. I knew I couldn’t stand a chance with you, so after a while, I… stopped. I wanted you to be happy, and that’s ok with me,” she smiled. After leaving for London after JJ and Will’s wedding, Emily thought she would be able to get her mind off of JJ, and it worked a little as she began seeing other people. When she came back, all those intense feelings did, too, but she knew she couldn’t chase JJ anymore, so she tried her best to keep a safe distance from her.

JJ nodded, feeling guilty. “I’m so sorry, Emily. I wish I’d known sooner. I thought it was this little crush that would quickly go away but you kept pulling me in. And I don’t think I can stop, if I stay here any longer," JJ slightly laughed and felt tears falling down. "Don’t get me wrong, I want you to be happy, too. I just never realized how much it would hurt seeing you with someone else.” JJ's small cries made her choke on her words, lips forming a tight line to stop them.

“Come here.” Emily opened her arms, and JJ immediately crashed into them. She sniffled and buried her face into Emily’s shoulder. "It's ok." The older woman hushed and let JJ's tears wet her dress and neck.

“I love you, Emily. I’m so sorry,” JJ muffled, hands gripping onto the fabric on the back.

Emily nodded and stroked her hair. “It’s ok. I love you, too.” She closed her eyes and let the blonde stay in her arms for a few more seconds. She decided to kiss the side of JJ’s head, still stroking her hair. The action made JJ pull back and stare into Emily's eyes. Her own blue ones flickered down to her lips and back up into Emily's eyes. Emily awkwardly nodded with a small smile, "We- we should get going."

She started walking until she felt a hand tugging at hers. JJ pulled her flush against her body and cupped her face with both hands. She kissed Emily, sighing when their lips connected. The older woman was a little shocked but rested her hands on JJ’s waist, pulling her closer. JJ took this time to pour in all the love she’s had for Emily for so long, and Emily reveled in this moment to receive something she’s yearned for a long time.

Emily pulled back to rest her forehead against hers and they both closed their eyes. JJ lifted a hand to hover her fingers on Emily’s cheek, lightly tracing one over her jawline.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Emily whispered with a voice crack. “You’re gonna do great.”

JJ nodded and whispered, “I’ll miss you, too.” Two seconds later, she pulled back and exhaled out a breath. “Well, it’s time to go now,” she said, pointing outside.

“Yeah,” Emily sighed. JJ held the door open for her again, watching Emily go back to Andrew. She saw how happy Emily really seemed with him, as she interlocked their fingers together and smiled at each other. JJ chewed on her lower lip and looked down with a sigh before closing the door and going back to Will.

*****************************************************************************************

Everyone was out on the dance floor, talking amongst themselves and dancing. Andrew asked Emily if she wanted water and started walking up to the table, pouring it in two glasses. JJ stepped away from the dance floor and decided to approach him, exhaling out a breath. She nervously rubbed her hands and tapped on his shoulder.

"Hey, Andrew. Can we talk for a moment?"

He shrugged. "Sure. What's up?"

JJ took another deep breath and quickly glanced behind him to see a smiling Emily dancing with the others. She looked back at Andrew.

"Take great care of her," she simply said.

Andrew furrowed his eyebrows at her, so she explained a little further while still being vague. "Emily. She's… she's a really amazing person," JJ said, casting her glance towards the other woman, making Andrew follow. "I promise you, she's not someone you just meet every day, so don't let this one go."

Andrew looked at JJ, who was still staring at Emily from a distance. "You really care about her, don't you?"

His voice broke through JJ’s little reverie before she sighed and sadly smiled. "More than you know."

Andrew noticed the way JJ looked at his girlfriend. It was the same way he looked at her. “You love her.”

JJ’s eyes widened and she stammered. “I- um,” she slumped her shoulders slightly in defeat. “I do, but… I want her to be happy, and I think you can do that for her.”

Andrew nodded in understanding and smiled. "I'll do my best." He wasn’t looking for any blessing from JJ or anyone on the team, but he wasn’t jealous either. JJ knew Emily for a very long time, so he understands. Andrew wanted to make Emily happy and so did JJ.

“Thank you.” JJ smiled at him, a genuine one. They both went back to the dance floor, Andrew handing a glass to Emily and her thanking him. Her eyes looked over to JJ behind him before smiling softly at her. JJ reciprocated with one of her own and a small nod.

This is what Emily wanted, the blonde knew that. Someone who would love and care for her, even if that someone wasn’t JJ. She was letting go and moving on, and so was JJ.

#jemily #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #jemily fic #criminal minds

[collecting-stories]

The House Party - ep.03 - JJ Maybank

Summary: Things start to heat up as the week reaches its midway point and you make a decision that changes everything.

A/N: Mild smut at the very end of the chapter. 

The S’week Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

///

You weren’t sure how many times you would have to brush your teeth to get the taste of last night out of your mouth but the three times you already had clearly weren’t enough. It wasn’t alcohol, in fact you’d woken up more sober than you expected to be, almost leaning off the edge of your bed, tucked into your blanket, with JJ laying on top of the bedding beside you. It was all very ‘one motel bed’ trope-ish but you’d both been so exhausted last night that you couldn’t even enjoy the implications of it. An ice cube tray of melted aloe vera sat on the night stand and you brought it down with you to the kitchen to refreeze when you decided coffee might help the taste that wouldn’t leave your mouth. 

To put it the only way you knew how, a way JJ would have definitely put it, you tasted kook trash every time you swallowed and it wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, at least not while Rafe was two houses down from you. 

“Morning,” Pope voice half startled you as you entered the kitchen to find him sitting at the island eating cereal. 

“How is it possible that you look so normal?” You asked, grabbing a bowl for some cereal yourself. Breakfast was a good distraction from your phone and the taste in your mouth. 

“You mean as opposed to John B and Sarah who decided to parent trap it on a floatie in the pool?” He asked, turning for emphasis to look outside where your best friend and her boyfriend were indeed asleep on a floatie in the pool. 

“Exactly.” 

“I’m not a big drinker.” He shrugged. “What about you?”

“Am I a big drinker?” You asked. 

“No, how did you end the night?” 

You nodded your head slowly, realising what he was getting at with his question. “JJ was sick, I figured it was better to come back here than make him stay at the party.” 

“Sure.” He agreed though it sounded empty, “did you hook up?” 

“What?” 

“Look, I know how JJ parties, he’s my best friend. And I know what his ‘senior week plans’ were before Sarah hijacked them to come down here. I wouldn’t put it past him to alter them. You know, have sex with as many girls as he can in the keys. Host included.”

“We didn’t have sex.” You replied. 

He stared at you for a full minute, not saying anything, as if the look on his face alone would crack you into admitting some misdeed. And it probably would have if any had occurred. 

“We didn’t have sex, I swear to god.” You reiterated. “It is what I said it is. JJ was throwing up in the bathroom and I brought him back here so he could rest. That’s all that happened.” 

“With JJ.” Pope scoffed. 

“Whoa, where’s the displaced animosity coming from...pretty sure you’re in my house.” 

“Yeah and JJ is my best friend. I don’t want you stringing him along for the week cause you’re bored and you wanna make your ex jealous or something.” Pope replied.

“You literally just got done telling me that JJ wanted to sleep his way around s’week but I’m the bad guy in your head because of some proposed plan I have to ‘make my ex jealous’?” You questioned. “That’s un-fucking-believable.”

“It would be if I hadn’t seen you in the hallway with your ex right before you left with JJ.” 

“You’re delusional. My ex who? Just cause I was talking to some guy-“

“You weren’t talking and it was Rafe.” 

You shut your mouth, lips pressed together in a line as you tried to think of something to say. Sure, it was common knowledge amongst your friend group that you and Rafe had been hooking up for the better part of two years but that was over and you really didn’t think it was the kind of thing that pogues talked about. And you trusted Sarah not to have blabbed about it to anyone else. 

“How’d you know-“ 

“How’d I know you and Rafe were a thing? Sarah’s not the only one here that knows you. I’ve seen him at your house before when I delivered groceries, not so hard to put two and two together.” 

“Well me and Rafe are over.” 

“You didn’t look over.” Pope challenged. 

“Oh well, thank you for interpreting two fucking minutes of my life and deciding how I feel about something.” You snapped, “I didn’t want him to kiss me okay, I told him to leave me alone. It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you that the word no isn’t exactly a part of his vocab.”

Before Pope could say anything back the sound of footsteps on the stairs caught your attention. Both of you looked toward the staircase in time to see JJ appear, shirtless with just a pair of swim shorts on. His shoulders and chest were red but not as burnt as his back, which you caught a glimpse of as he trudged passed you, not in the high spirits he had been yesterday morning. 

“Dude, your back looks painful.” Pope commented, staring at the expanse of angry red skin that looked more ready to blister than anything. 

“It feels painful too.” JJ grumbled. So far he was 0-3 with vacation. He was stuck in this kook house (which really wasn’t so bad but he enjoyed bitching about it), he was sunburnt to hell, and he’d wasted an entire night of partying throwing up from sun-poisoning (though that worked out in his favour too because he definitely enjoyed the part where he sat on your bed and you rubbed aloe ice cubes on his back and basically took care of him). 

“Guess the beach is out of the question?” Pope asked, getting up to put his bowl in the sink. 

“I can go to the beach.” 

“You definitely can’t.” You replied, coming around to look at JJ’s back. He was sitting on one of the stools, slumped over. “You shouldn’t get anymore direct sun on your back.” 

“Oh cool, I’m so glad I came all the way down to fucking Florida to sit in a house all day and do shit.” 

“Sorry man,” Pope said, though he made no offer to stay at the house. Yesterday had been great and he was looking forward to going to the beach again today with Kiara. John B and Sarah had mentioned tagging along but he knew they’d eventually go off to do their own thing. 

“We could go to the boardwalk?” You offered, ignoring the look that Pope sent your way. You knew he was just being a good friend, looking out for someone he cared about, and it made you wish that Sarah knew enough to do the same for you. 

“What will we do on the boardwalk?” JJ asked, curious enough that he wasn’t immediately rejecting the idea. 

“There’s a water park there and an arcade, plus you know, tons of food.” You shrugged, “I know you wanna go to the beach-“

“I can be persuaded.”

“I think you already have been.” Pope commented. 

The three of you turned your attention to the stairs as Kiara came down, already dressed for the beach. When she saw the three of you in various states of sleepwear she rolled her eyes, “hey Kie be ready early so we can all go to the beach together.” 

“Technically, Sarah said that and she’s passed out in the pool still.” Pope replied, pointing out the glass doors to where the floatie was still carrying John B and Sarah on the water. 

“Let’s wake ‘em up then.” JJ slipped passed you, winking, before he ran outside, jumping into the pool and landing directly on top of John B and Sarah. 

You, Pope, and Kiara rushed to the doors in time to see the floatie flip over, all three teens going under as Sarah shrieked and John B tried to grab any part of the inflatable raft. Sarah surfaced immediately after JJ, throwing her body on him and wrapping her arms around his neck as she tried to push him under. 

“You asshole!” She screamed when JJ ducked under the water, twisting in her arms and grabbing her waist so that he could throw her off him. 

You watched them for a minute longer, as John B finally got involved, before heading back into the house and going upstairs to change. You’d left your phone plugged in the bathroom outlet while you were sitting with JJ and you picked it up now to check your messages. Two from Rafe and one, unsurprisingly, from Topper. It’d been him at the end of the hall that called Rafe away from you. 

-You okay?- was all the text said and you quickly responded. 

-Nothing happened. Thx-

You deleted the messages from Rafe without looking at them. You could hear everyone come in the kitchen, footsteps on the stairs as John B, Sarah, and JJ came up to change. You pulled on a crop top and some shorts, pocketing your phone before hurrying downstairs. 

Kiara and Pope were back to hanging around the island, talking to each other about their plans as you entered. 

“Hey, do you guys wanna meet up later on the boardwalk?” Kiara asked, “we could do dinner or something?”

“Sounds good to me.” You replied, grabbing your backpack from the chair and making sure that you had everything you needed. “There’s a pizza place near the South street entrance that has incredible food, plus it’s super cheap.” 

“I do love cheap food.” 

-

You had locked your shorts and your backpack in the rented locker of the water park along with JJ’s backpack before the two of you headed for any of the rides. Both your phones locked away in your backpack, cutting you both off from the rest of the world for however long JJ felt like staying at the water park. 

“So? Where to first?” You asked as JJ stopped in front of a mounted map of the park. It wasn’t as big as Dorney or Six Flags but it was pretty expansive for being an extension of the boardwalk. 

“Shush, I’m consulting the map.” 

“Consult the bones,” you said and JJ laughed, casting you a glance before going back to the map. 

“Come on,” he grabbed your hand suddenly, having zeroed in on a ride titled the constrictor, 450 feet of enclosed water slide and the two of you were going down it. 

He weaved his way through the crowd of people, leading you closer and closer to the line for the slide. Most people were at the beach on the weekdays which meant a shorter wait line, something JJ was happy about. It was bad enough he was spending his day at some dumb water park with you, he didn’t want to have to wait in line too. Although, he hadn’t let your hand go yet. 

“Should I mention before or after we ascend these stairs that I have a mild fear of heights?” You asked, taking the raft that was offered to you by the water park employee. 

“It’s fine,” JJ assured you, “here go ahead of me.” 

“How does this help?” You asked as you stepped in front of him onto the first stair. 

JJ shifted his raft under his arm, pressing it against his body and holding onto the railing while he used his other hand to hold you, fingers brushing the skin above your bikini bottoms as he held your waist. “See.”

You bit your lip and took a deep breath, “yeah I see.” 

The rest of the way up the stairs JJ kept his hand on either your waist or your back. He wasn’t too thrilled with heights either though focusing on the peach bikinis bottoms you wore, little pineapples polkadotting them. He could imagine you totally smacking him in the face of you knew but he’d take his chances. 

As sly as he might’ve thought he was being you knew he was looking. When you turned around at the first platform before the stairs twisted you caught him looking down, eyes darting up quickly when he realized you were looking at him. You didn’t say anything, just turned back around so he wouldn’t see the satisfied smile on your face.  

“You ready for this?” JJ asked as you stepped onto the final platform, JJ stepping up behind you.

“I’ll see you at the bottom Maybank.” You replied, stepping over to your slide while JJ got set up at his.  

You liked waterparks for the lazy rivers and the wave pools and those crazy contraptions for kids that looked like towering pipes and dumped water on you. Even the log flume was fun. But giant enclosed slides that shot you through winding loops for endless feet until finally dumping you in a pool? Not your favorite. But as you looked over at JJ, who flashed you a thumbs up, you were having trouble thinking about the things you didn’t like.  

The slide was over before you knew it and you were climbing out of the pool, JJ standing on the side waiting for you. “How did you beat me?”  

“I’m like speed racer,” he said, making a wooshing sound as he glided one hand under the other like a wave.  

“Well, speedracer, what next?” You asked, taking off your soaked shirt and wringing it out as you followed JJ back to the map. “Are we consulting the map again?”

“What you think I memorized it?” He asked, looking back over his shoulder at you and grabbing your hand when a woman with a stroller tried to squeeze between the two of you.  

-

By the time you and JJ met up with Kiara and Pope and made it back to the house Sarah was already setting up for a party. John B had obviously been enlisted to help as he was trying to adhere light stripes at the top of the wall in the living room.  

“What’d you do rob a liqour store?” You asked, grabbing the leg of the ladder he was on when he leaned to far to the left.

“Feels like it.” John B replied, “Sarah filled a cart. We’re either having a party or she’s turning into everyone’s alcoholic grandmother.”  

“We’re having a party!” Sarah called, coming in from the pool area, “it’s exactly what we need.”

“Why do we need to host a party?” Kiara asked, looking back at JJ and Pope but they just shrugged, obviously not willing to get involved.

“Because morale is low here people.” Sarah replied, “and it’s senior week, duh.”

“Duh.” You repeated, raising your eyebrows and grinning at JJ who laughed. Sarah watched the interaction skeptically, as far as she knew John B’s best friend had complained of nothing but a bad time. Now he was joking with you like the two of you were friends.

“Can I talk to you,” she grabbed your arm to pull you out of the room, “Pope hold the ladder!”

“Oh cool the bathroom.” You muttered as she dragged you into the hall powder room, shutting the door behind her and trapping the two of you in the crammed space. “What’s up?”

“What’s up? What’s going on with you and JJ?”  

“Didn’t we do this literally yesterday?” You questioned, “I said then and I'll say now, JJ and I are barely friends.”

“Except when I texted Kie earlier cause I couldn’t get a hold of you she said you and JJ were on the boardwalk together.”

“Oh, oh my god Sarah, you’re right, something is clearly ‘going on’ because I went on the boardwalk with someone instead of just ignoring the people living in my house.” You rolled your eyes at her accusation that something was going on though you sincerely hoped something was.  

When she finally released you from the bathroom the two of you resumed getting ready before you changed into something more appropriate for the party. NC parties were slow going in the early hours until they finally picked up, mostly just crowds of people crammed in an empty rental or spread out on the beach. House parties in the Keys happened a little more erratically. People showed up while it was still light out, hanging around the pool drinking and shit talking until it got dark and they all migrated inside, drunk off their asses and louder than necessary.  

You had moved the table and chairs in the dining room and pushed all the furniture back in the living room for good reason because the minute the sun went down it felt like everyone was spilling back into the house for part 2. You were in the kitchen, ignoring most everyone there, watching JJ set up a shot for Kiara.  

“Is it lime and then salt or salt and then lime?” He asked, glancing at you.  

You were leaned against the counter beside him and Kiara was on the other side with Pope, who already said twice he wanted no part in this. “Lime first, how else does the salt stick right? I don’t remember...I know how to do a body shot.”

“Are you offering?” The grin on JJ’s face as he asked had you practically melting in your spot.

“Guys!” Kiara leaned across the island, snapping her fingers, “can we please just do the shot!”

“Right, sorry.” You apologized, grabbing the bottle of tequila to pour for them.  

While the three of you were talking Pope spun in his chair, observing the louder parts of the party that was raging on the first floor. There were a few people lingering in the kitchen with you, mostly to be closest to the alcohol, but otherwise everyone was contained to the living room, dining room, and pool. When he looked out the glass doors to the pool area he frowned, “hey guys, look who showed up.”

You looked out the door to see Topper on the patio chatting with some local. “I’ll be right back.”

“Can we just enjoy the party?” Pope called though you were already slipping out the door.

“Top,” you called not caring that you were interrupting him, “can I talk to you?”

He apologized to the girl before placing his hand on your back and leading you further away from the party, stopping once the two of you had stepped onto the sand path down to the beach. “Look, someone texted Rafe about the party alright.”

“Well I don’t want you guys here.” You replied, “you weren’t invited by me and it’s my house.”

“Hey come on, you know me alright, I’m not trying to start anything-”

“Doesn’t sound like the Topper I know.”  

“That wasn’t me alright, Sarah made me a little crazy, I'll admit. But I’m over that.” Topper replied. “I don’t understand why you and Rafe broke up and suddenly you can’t hang with any of us.”

“Are you still friends with Rafe?”  

“That’s not fair, we’ve been-”

“I don’t care. You know what happened. You want me to be friends with you Top? After what you and Kelce did. Look, thanks for last night but I don’t need your guilty conscience looking out for me. I need you to get your boys and get the fuck out my house.”

“Putting on the tough act for Topper?” Rafe’s voice came from behind you and you closed your eyes, jaw tensing at the sound.  

“It’s fine man, we’re just talking.” Topper replied, stepping closer to you.  

You opened your eyes and turned around to see Rafe and Kelce standing there, “actually I will tell you the same thing I told Top, get the fuck off my property.”  

“Damn,” Rafe whistled, “you start hanging with the pogues and suddenly you think you’re tough shit.”

“Hey man, let’s just forget it.” Topper said, getting between you and Rafe.

Rafe put his hand on Topper’s shoulder, guiding him out of the way, “you go ahead, I need to talk to my girlfriend.”

“Ex-girlfriend.” You replied, “I said we were done and I meant it.”  

Pope had been watching you talk to Topper from the kitchen door and when he saw Rafe and Kelce join the two of you on the catwalk he’d broken up JJ and Kiara’s shot game to tell them something was going down and you were out there alone.

“Maybe she’s just talking to them.” Kiara shrugged, “I mean, she is a kook. Her and Rafe used to date too so...”

“She dated Rafe?” JJ asked, eyes wide at the implication.

“Oh yeah, she broke it off a couple times but they always got back together.  Sarah told me she thinks they might get back together again.”

Pope frowned, thinking of the way you had looked this morning when he accused you of doing just that, “I don’t think so. We should make sure she’s okay.”

“I’ll get John B.” Kiara replied, making her way to the living room to find John B and Sarah.  

JJ and Pope meanwhile, headed outside, coming up behind Kelce just as you told Rafe that you were never getting back together with him. You saw the two of them passed Kelce’s shoulder and your best at a subtle shake of the head, a silent ‘please go back inside’. But Topper saw them too and alerted Rafe to their presence.  

“Kelce wasn’t lying Maybank, you really have turned into a guard dog haven’t you.” Rafe said, turning his full attention on JJ. Topper pulled you to the other side of the path and pushed you behind him as Kiara, Sarah, and John B walked up.  

“Fuck off Rafe, you aren’t welcome here.” Kiara cut in before JJ could reply.  

“I didn’t know you owned the place.” Kelce challenged.

“I already fucking told you to go!” You said, “so go!”

Rafe only smiled, looking at JJ still, “what pair you guys make man. A bitch and her dog.”

Without warning JJ lunged forward, shoving Rafe back and swinging, trying to punch him. When Kelce tried to grab him John B intervened, getting Kelce in a choke hold. It took a second for all six of the boys to become involved in the fight as Kiara urged Sarah to call the cops. Rafe punched JJ, sending him back into the sand and getting on top of him, hitting him repeatedly while Topper held off Pope and John B and Kelce fought with each other.

“Stop it,” Kiara grabbed at Topper, trying to pull him off Pope and Sarah just stood there frozen.  

You went for Rafe, trying to push him off JJ. When you grabbed his arm he pulled away only to throw his elbow back, colliding with your stomach and sending you to the ground. It was all the momentum that JJ seemed to need to shove Rafe off him and get the upper hand, kicking him in the stomach a couple times.  

“Get the fuck out!” He shouted, spitting on your ex-boyfriend.  

Topper let go of Pope and grabbed Rafe’s arm, helping him up and pulling him away, Kelce breaking away from John B and following them back to theirs, away from the party. The six of you stood there in silence, trying to process what had just happened.

“Some party.” Pope finally said and Kiara glared at him.  

“Didn’t I say this week would be shit.” JJ said, looking over at you before turning and heading out toward the beach.  

“Let’s just go back inside.” Sarah pleaded.  

“Why were they even here?” Pope asked, casting a glance your way.

“Topper said someone texted Rafe about the party.” You said, “could have been anyone...he’s been down here with me before, he knows some of my Keys friends.”

“Whatever,” Kiara cut in, “we have three days left and I would love if we could just, not see them again for 72 hours. Is that possible?”

“I hope so.”

-

“I had a feeling you’d still be out here.” You said, walking up behind JJ on the beach. The light from the houses behind you did little to illuminate the night. The waves were lapping up the sand at JJ’s feet and he made no sign that he even knew you were there. You dropped the blanket you had around your shoulders and sat down, not bothering to straighten out the corners. “I know you’re pissed-“

“I’m not pissed.” He said, digging his heels in further. “I just...you and Rafe, seriously?” 

“It was different, at the beginning.”

“That’s just an excuse.”

“Maybe but...I was 14 when we first started dating and I really thought he liked me. But, he just liked that I was insecure and he tries to remind me of that every time he sees me.” You explained. “Rafe being down here doesn’t change what happened at the water park, I didn’t just kiss you because of him.” 

It’d happened during the lazy river ride that you had forced JJ to go on. He had spent most of the ride pushing your innertube with his foot and trying to tip you until it finally happened and you went over, sputtering to the surface and trying to grab at your inflatable tube as passersby tried to avoid the two of you. You’d pushed his innertube over in retaliation and he’d abandoned it to grab you and try to dunk you underwater.

Serendipitous maybe, as you twisted in his arms, turning to face him, he’d leaned down and kissed you.  

“He keeps showing up.”

“I didn’t invite him.” 

JJ looked back at you before rubbing the heel of his hand across his cheeks and sniffing to get rid of the literal waterworks he’d been two seconds away from. This wasn’t the vacation he had signed up for. And maybe there had been some good parts so far but the complicated bits were starting to outweigh everything else. Still, he shifted back so he could sit on the blanket with you; a step in the right direction you hoped. 

“What’s in the bag?” He asked, looking over at the backpack you’d carried all the way out here with you. 

“I didn’t think you would want to go back to the party so I brought the party with me.” You replied, unzipping the main compartment to reveal the alcohol you had swiped from the house. “I don’t know if you wanna party with me-“

“Shut up and pass me a beer.” 

You smiled, grabbing a beer from the bag and handing it to JJ. Without warning he grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him, leaning back on his other elbow as he did. You caught yourself, pressing your hand into the blanket to hold yourself up and realizing you were hovering over him. 

“I, uh-“ you stammered, licking your lips briefly before JJ let go of your wrist and put his hand on the back of your neck, leading you into a kiss. You kissed back, ignoring the feeling of the beer bottle cap scratching your hand as you shifted to be closer to JJ, moving your knee between his legs so you were almost straddling him. 

“Are you sure?” You asked when you pulled away to move your hand from the beer bottle. You frowned when you glanced at it, holding it up so JJ could see the cut. He took your wrist, kissing over the small cut on your palm. “I’m not really good at casual things,” you admitted.  

“Is that what this is?”

You shook your head before leaning in to kiss him again. While you held yourself up with the hand that had been cut by the beer bottle your other hand moved to JJ’s stomach, fingers slipping beneath his shirt and dancing along the soft skin of his abdomen, just above his shorts. His grip on the back of your neck tightened ever so slightly as he held your face to his, pulling out of the kiss for the briefest of moments to look at you, “Are you sure?” He repeated your question though it had a different meaning.

“Yeah.” You nodded. It was dead on the beach this time of night and you were far enough down toward the water that no one could really see you from the houses though that didn’t stop this from being the most daring thing you’d ever done.  

JJ shifted so that he was laying back on the blanket, pushing the backpack away from his body as you straddled his waist. His hands went to your hips, running over your ass and settling on the backs of your thighs when you leaned all the way forward to kiss him, bodies practically pressed together. You kissed along his jaw and down his neck, sucking a bruise into his skin. JJ’s breathing picked up as your right hand moved between your bodies, fingers unbuttoning and unzipping his shorts before you slipped your hand beneath them, grasping him. JJ bit down on his lip as he moaned, the sound coming up from his chest.

You pulled away from him, cool air rushing between your bodies as you sat back on your heels. He watched you, heart pounding in his chest, as you put your hands on the waistband of his shorts, ready to pull them down, “God, why are you not in a swimsuit.”

“Excuse me for not knowing I was gonna get lucky on the beach.”

“I’m gonna leave you on the beach for saying that,” you teased.  

JJ’s hands held you in a vice grip, squeezing your hips, “not a chance.” He replied. He ran his hands up your sides to the hem of your bralette, fingers nudging the fabric up and you caught on to what he wanted, obliging him by lifting the top up over your head and tossing it to the side.  

Your original plan of action went to hell though you could be upset when JJ wrapped his arms around your back and sat himself up, knocking you back and laying you down so he could hover over you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he kissed you.  

“That was a neat trick.” You managed as he mirrored the hickey you’d left on him on your own neck. He smiled against your skin as his right hand moved across your stomach, fingers brushing against the underside of your breast. His mouth travelled down from your neck, kissing between your breasts before moving to the left, tongue darting out to flick over your nipple. His fingers twisted your other nipple at the same time and you tensed, hips shooting up to try and create some friction with his own. He sucks another bruise into your skin, just below your left breast before moving back up to kiss you.  

The new position made it easier to get his shorts and briefs down and you manage to push them down to his thighs after you rid yourself of your own shorts. JJ leans his forehead against your collar, looking down at you with a sly smile. “No underwear?”

“I was in a hurry to get dressed.” You insisted, “now shut up.”

“I’m not the chatty one.”  

“I’m not - holy shit!” You cursed as he slipped his hand between your thighs, coating his fingers before rubbing your clit. His middle finger circled the bundle of nerves before slipping down inside of you, just barely offering anything before repeating the cycle. When he kissed you he slipped his tongue in your mouth and you bit down gently, not enough to hurt him but enough to getting him going.  

You tried to press yourself up into his hand but he pushed you down, slick fingers digging into your skin as he pressed you against the blanket. You whimpered when he pushed his hips into yours, his dick rubbing over your clit and you grip his hair as he tilts his head down to kiss and nip at your breasts again.  

“Please, Jay,” you begged, unashamed and completely oblivious to your surroundings as he lined himself up and thrust in to you. He stilled for a moment once he was completely in, savoring the feeling of you until you tugged his hair. “Move.”

“God, you’re so desperate for me.” He teased, kissing beneath your chin and along your neck.  

Finally he moves, thrusting into you. His pace quickens and you wrap your arms around him, digging your fingers into his back. He groans from the almost pain of the feeling, his hips hitting yours harder to give back as much as you’re giving him. You pulled him closer so that you could kiss him again. You’d be lying if you said that you had been on edge with JJ all day. That every touch and smile, the kiss in the lazy river, it all felt like foreplay as he thrust into you now, slipping his hand between your legs to rub your clit as he did, pushing you closer to the edge.  

“JJ,” you whimpered, muscles in your stomach clenching as you felt yourself approaching your high.  

JJ pressed his face into your neck, biting again at your collar, “I know,” was all he said, repeating it again when the rhythm he’d built up wavered slightly as he felt his own release approaching, “I know.”

One hand fisted the blanket beneath you as your release hit. You came, his name the only thing you could think of, and he came right after, the feeling of you tightening around him enough to pull an orgasm out of him. JJ held himself up on one arm, trembling above you, still connected as his hips still, his eyes on yours.  

You sucked in a breath as he kissed the tender skin of your collar, red from his teeth, “have you ever gone skinny dipping?” You asked.

“Not in the Keys.” He replied, letting his upper body fall against you as well, all of him pressing into you.  

“When I can move again...want to?”

-

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @howdyherron @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @tragicmisfits @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @jjsthumbring @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @louisolos @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @finecelle @vitaminekabc @tiredfeels @g4bster @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @pensysto @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @lavenderxraindrops @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @hvitost @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @kwjune @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @siwiecola @regev1408 @celestialmaybank @mybnkjj @averagxfangirl @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @99sxuxii @oh-annaa @katiaw2 @aiifandomsunite @marteenuhh08 @x-lulu @kitkat0609 @ceruleanjj @yoxsh06 @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @justkeepdreamingswift @allie-mcginn @jjmaybankswife @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @poguesnobx @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @jolomez @timotaychalabae @babycakes00 @pixelated-pogues @booksandshish @lopineapples @ponyboys-sunsets @prettyyboyspence @obxlife @downbytheouterbanks @pancakefancake @danicarosaline @sspidermanss @k-k0129 @apoguecalledjj @annedub 

#JJ Maybank x reader #JJ Maybank imagine #JJ Maybank fanfiction #JJ Maybank fanfic #JJ Maybank fic #JJ Maybank writing #JJ x reader #JJ imagine #JJ fanfiction #JJ fanfic #JJ fic #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfic #obx fanfic #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx writing #collecting stories imagine #Senior Week series #The S'week series

[onmykneesforhotdilfs]

Hello, I wanted to ask you for a special shipment for Valentine's Day that is about the wedding of bloom and valtor and their married life, I would appreciate it very much, I hope I will not be a bother, thank you. ps: I love your writing bye.

First of all, of course you can have special shipment for valentine's day that is about the wedding of Bloom and Valtor and their married life.

Secondly, thank you so much for your kind words. You guys can't even believe how much your encouragement means to me.

Thirdly, I have like 5 more requests sitting in my inbox but please be patient, i promise to get to them as soon as possible. School is sitting on my chest currently. They will be done, the only question is when will I find the necessary time to do them.

Ok so without further ado, here we go. I decided to do this headcanon style, but if you guys want full fledged wedding or married life ff, just send in a request and it'll be done (eventually).

Sparxshipping wedding/married life headcanons (valentine's day special)

Engagement

Weirdly enough, it took place on Earth instead of Domino. Valtor organized an incredible evening in a rather nice restaurant, invited both of her families and all of her closest friends, Winx and specialists, including Sky (Bloom remained on friendly terms with the guy after the break up). The plot twist, he never told anyone he planned to propose. His manners and etiquette threatened to kick him in the ass for not asking Oritel for his permission to marry his daughter, but he had a hunch his future father in law would say "No." and that would do more harm than good in the future. Mike was more fond of him, especially when he noticed his rival (Oritel seemed to have the habit of making people dislike him) hated the magician with passion.

Valtor picked out the ring months before and he was just waiting for the perfect moment to present his beloved with it. The perfect moment seemed to strike when Bloom said one evening she always wanted to get all her friends and both of her families together on one big dinner in some nice Earth restaurant so they can all just chill for one night (she wanted to show her birth parents the planet she grew up on and she also wanted it to have a symbolic meeting for all of her friends). So when the opportunity struck, Valtor took it and wouldn't let go. Bloom protested to him organizing and paying for dinner she wanted but he had none of it and simply told her to 'relax and leave it all in his capable hands'.

All of Bloom's friends accepted the call immediately but Oritel made Valtor sweat for a few days before even he succumbed to his daughter's invitation (also, he suspected Marion had her fingers in tipping the king over the edge because if Valtor learned anything while he worked in the palace 20+ years ago, it was that Marion, despite her innocent looking facade, was quite the blackmailer and if he deduced correctly, she wore the pants in that household).

He was not nervous for a moment while he planned the whole thing even though he expected it at least on some level. But nothing could've prepared him for that moment when the dinner was done and they all stood up to leave the restaurant. The minutes were agonizing for him and despite everything he started second guessing his decision. It took all of his self control not to chicken out.

As it turned out, he had nothing to be anxious about, because as soon as he dropped to one knee, Oritel made an inhuman sound in the background, and popped the question while presenting Bloom with the ring, she threw herself on him and screamed 'YES!" in his ear. He could vaguely hear her friends screaming from excitement and happiness, that was mostly Stella, and one not so very happy voice saying "God damnit NO!", but he paid them no attention as his shaky fingers slipped the ring on Bloom's equally shaky hands. She threw her hands around his neck and kissed him while happy tears streamed down her face.

Wedding

The newly engaged couple was in no hurry to tie to knot and that seemed to displease everyone, mainly Stella because she wanted to go shopping for wedding dresses and bridesmaids dress (not that she needed the excuse to go shopping but 'Guysssss, this is special!'), but Oritel. As far as Valtor managed to catch, he was persistent in making his daughter change his mind about marrying Valtor. Then, overnight it seemed to him, Oritel started being more friendly and willing to spend some time with Valtor to 'get to know him'. He didn't understand the sudden shift in the beginning, but when his fiance took time to explain she threatened to burn all the expensive curtains in the palace if the king doesn't start minding his own business, everything fell into place.

The wedding preparations took over a month when they actually started planning, which was well over two years after the engagement but they figured, if they waited this long, they can wait a bit longer too. It was decided that the wedding will take place on Andros where their first official meeting happened, on a Colosseum he created to save her life when Icy's ice block knocked her unconscious into the water. Flora offered the help with the decorations, Stella dragged Bloom dress shopping and Musa and the rest of the fairies took care of other essentials in consultation with the wedding planner Bloom and Valtor personally picked out.

Despite the fact they already live together, they decided to somewhat respect the tradition and spent the night before the wedding separately. This was partially done to make Oritel a bit more docile at their wedding and to honor the tradition of groom not seeing the bride in her dress before the wedding. They both had difficulty with that as was evident when neither of them could sleep that night, their bodies and fire inside too accustomed to the other being near. Bloom spent the night on Domino and Valtor went back to Alfea. The parting kiss the two shared had to be interrupted by Marion and Vanessa, so neither Oritel nor Mike came out to see what's taking their daughter so long to say goodbye, before it turned into a heavy makeout session. The two had to be almost hauled apart, Marion and Vanessa holding Bloom as Daphne took Valtor by the collar of his shirt and dragged him away to Alfea.

The morning brought no relief however because Valtor was too busy lowkey freaking out and Bloom herself couldn't stop rushing around the palace to fetch stuff she needed despite the fact maids could bring it to her. Valtor's mental breakdown was stopped by Andy, his best man weirdly enough (they got really friendly after the whole Earth mission and black circle fiasco. There was originally a bit of jealousy on Valtor's part because Bloom seemed to really like Andy and it reached the peak when he found out they dated back in the day. But Andy's quirky personality and unending questioning about magic really brought them closer together and helped Valtor realize, Andy is one of the best humans to have around).

Bloom got her fair share of support from Stella, who even threatened to slap her friend on the wrist for not sleeping, but sympathy shone in her eyes when Bloom told her she couldn't sleep because Valtor wasn't there. She also made a quite inappropriate joke in a very inappropriate time just as her parents, both pairs, entered a room. "So you couldn't sleep because Valtor isn't here or was it the exercise that is done primarily beneath the sheets that you missed?" Oritel gripped the door frame so hard Bloom though she even heard it crack. Bloom blushed like a tomato and gritted her friend's name through her teeth but luckily blonde took the hint and shut her mouth.

As the wedding approached, Valtor got even more fidgety but tried to fight it because he knew in just a few short hours, Bloom will be his forever. All that time, Andy stood on the side and quietly laughed at the man and a friend he always associated with being stoic and good with covering up his emotions. He would've never thought Valtor of all people would succumb to something as trivial as wedding jitters.

When Bloom and her family, together with Stella arrived on Andros, guests and everybody else were moved to the place of ceremony, only Oritel and Mike remaining with her. Bloom decided she wanted to have both of her dads give her away at her wedding day. The tricky part was getting them to get along because Oritel wanted to be the one to give her away ("I'm her father, damn it! Why should I share my right to give away MY daughter on her wedding day?" "Oh please, you royal ass, you don't even like that lad she's marrying! Think of me as a supervisor that makes sure overprotective father of a bride doesn't actually STEAL his daughter so she can't marry!" "I'm the KING! I don't need supervision!" "If both of you don't SHUT UP IMMEDIATELY I'm going to walk down that isle alone." That phrase spoken by Bloom shut them up and the two, although with big frowns on their faces, reluctantly agreed)

Valtor's breath got stuck in his throat when he saw Bloom first time in a wedding dress. The dress had thin straps holding and supporting the dress on her delicate shoulders as the flowy lacy dress sat on her tiny frame perfectly. He saw her stop for a second as she took him in for the first time as well in a burgundy suit with a purple tie and handkerchief of the same color. He didn't even notice as both of Bloom's fathers kept shooting each other looks over their daughter's head during the walk. He only saw Bloom. He woke up from his daydream when Bloom's small delicate hand was placed in his by two larger hands, one belonging to Mike, other to Oritel. He nodded to both of them and gripped her hand like it's his lifeline.

The wedding officiate was saying some nonsense that Valtor didn't listen until it was time to exchange the rings and swear to each other for all eternity. When the ring exchange was done, when all that needed to be said was said and the famous, long awaited words "You may kiss the bride." were spoken Valtor finally relaxed and leaned down to kiss his wife for the first time. The crowd went wild, Stella screamed and Oritel almost fainted, Mike and Vanessa were seen wiping the tears from their eyes. Overall, the wedding was a success.

Roxy, to Andy's big surprise and delight, caught the bouquet. The three story cake was cut and smeared all over newly weds faces. Congratulations were proclaimed and a lot of kisses were shared. A carriage with unicorns, similar to the one on Daphne's wedding got rolled in the moment Bloom and Valtor's feet touched the solid ground. Bloom couldn't contain her excitement and she rounded straight to the unicorns while the guests and her husband said the last goodbye for at least a month. She was shaken out of her trance when Valtor grabbed her hand and then lifted her bridal style into his arms and stepped into the carriage with her in his arms. The couple waved to the crowd beneath and shared a kiss before the carriage disappeared into the portal.

Married life

They spent their honeymoon gallivanting around different worlds but they remained mostly on Earth. They both preferred warmer locations, so tropical resorts were where they chose to spend their honeymoon in. Bloom actually had no involvement in planning of the honeymoon so she was so pleasantly surprised when the portal opened on Maldives and she was greeted by a sight of turquoise water and small but fancy apartments built on water. For someone who seems to spit on a traditional views more than he follows them, she was surprised how many superficial, at least in his opinion, customs Valtor followed for her. Aside from deciding not to see her before the wedding as mentioned before, he also insisted on carrying her over the doorstep.

They spent the whole month without phones and annoying phonecalls from Stella, one of the main reasons why they chose not to bring anything but the emergency bracelet which can be used to contact either party only in a case of an emergency. They had to explain to Stella that new dress in Vogue was not an emergency and therefore, the bracelet was given to Techna because she was the only one they trusted not to abuse the right to call.

When they finally returned from honeymoon, and after they spent good hour and a half convincing Oritel Bloom's not pregnant, a joint decision was made that the newlyweds will be given the keys to the separate wing of the castle where their privacy was guaranteed (yeah right, as if Valtor will get anything even resembling privacy with Bloom while Oritel's around).

Their married life wasn't too different from their normal life. Valtor would wake up first most of the time and would make breakfast for Bloom. Bloom would sleep in most of the time when she didn't have to go anywhere and Valtor would sometimes have to use drastic measures to get her out of bed.

They shower together because 'it saves water', oh wait that was the excuse they used before they were married. Now they shower together because they're married and what they do doesn't concern anyone.

Life in the castle had some advantages but they'll be damned if it didn't have it's fair share of disadvantages as well. The biggest one being, well, Oritel. There were a few times they were almost caught in a compromising situation but somehow they always managed to avoid the full blast. They both knew it was only the matter of time however. Valtor was even tempted to leave the doors unlocked just so Oritel would get what he came to see and hopefully gauge his eyes out so he could longer disturb them. Bloom swatted him over the head for that one.

They both made an appointment not to sacrifice their friendships just because they're married so Winx were guests quite often.

Valtor still decided to teach in Alfea when it was absolutely necessary and when Faragonda asked him nicely few days in advance if he would be willing to teach the class. Bloom would sometimes sneak into the class as well and sit in the back. She would even take notes from time to time.

They would practice magic quite often together in the backyard of the castle that was customized for such situations. But their favorite place in the whole castle was Valtor's office/library where they could both spend hours in, while just reading books and drinking tea.

#baltor x bloom #bloom #bloom x baltor #bloom x valtor #sparxshipping #valtor #valtor x bloom #winx #winx club #sparxshipping prompts #sparxshipping questions #sparxshipping requests

[thegeneralguy]

The Champion of Olympus - Prologue

This is the first series I´ve ever worked on. I remember I saw a post about the gift of the gods from @absqrst in the past, so I worked a bit around that general idea. It´s gonna be long, but I hope the patience makes it worth your while. I want to clarify all the characters in the stories are adults.

The flaming chariot sped over the clouds as thunder roared through the night sky. The vessel of the sun had its usual flames dimmed, but there was no doubt who was commanding it.

“He must be really mad to be throwing such a tantrum.”

Said Apollo to himself as he drove through the dark clouds. He was in the middle of a particularly erotic composing session with Terpsichore, muse of music, when the message from his father blasted through the roof of the mansion and engraved the urgent message on the floor. His presence was being requested for an extraordinary session of the twelve. Apollo couldn´t even remember the last time he saw his family together, but it usually meant bad news for everyone.

The last time his father and Poseidon argued, a massive tidal wave ravaged the land of the rising sun down on earth. The celestial plane wasn´t always indifferent towards mortal matters, and Apollo made sure to keep inspiring those beautiful human minds in order to create both beauty and a form of expression that eased up tension in difficult times. The fact that his family was meeting again could only mean disaster, both for mortals and for gods.

The sky grew increasingly stormy the more the chariot approached the thunder palace. Zeus´s residence was directly on top of Mytikas peak in Mount Olympus. The home of the gods was on an entirely different plane than earth, but vaster and richer. It existed both parallel to the terrestrial plane, but above it in hierarchy, and was ruled by the will of the deities that inhabited it. Each Olympian had its dominion, but Zeus ruled above all.

The chariot slowed down as the imposing marble columns of the palace became visible. It stopped on one of the gardens, and Apollo rushed to the nearest entrance heading to the meeting. The door to the throne room was guarded by celestial Sentinels, the latest invention from his brother Hephaestus. The automatons had the shape of the pinnacle of the masculine physique and were made of gold with a tiny bit of ichor, the blood of the gods. They served mainly as guardians, although he had made use of a couple of them for more personal matters, like an extra boost for the sexual soirees he usually hosted.

Apollo could hear the heated discussion from outside the room. The Sentinels opened the doors and suddenly twelve pairs of eyes were instantly focused on him.

“Apollo. So glad you decided to grace us with your presence. Take a seat.”

Said Zeus with a sour scowl. He was indeed the last one to arrive. Even Hades was there, so it must be serious. He took his seat next to his brother Dionysius, who gave him a knowing look.

“How many were there this time?”

Asked Dionysius with a cheeky smile. Apollo remained with his sight to the center of the room, trying his best to ignore the provocations of his brother.

“Come on I´m dying for a little excitement. Things have been rather grim around here, and I´m dying for a little spark of *hic* entertainment.”

Apollo gave his brother an irritated look. The God of wine was looking as disheveled as ever. His muscular body was partially covered by a glowing white cloak, with some grape vines hanging from his belt and decorating one side of his head. He was holding his everlasting wine cup with one hand, while his face rested on the other.

“I was with Terpsichore. We were looking for some inspiration.”

“Right, right. Maybe next time I can join you both. I could use some inspiration too you know. Remember the parties we used to throw with the muses and the nymphs? I´m pretty sure you got more inspiration than you bargained for back then…”

A lightning bolt stroke right before Dionysus, who sighed and diverted his attention to Zeus.

“I apologize father. Please do continue to illustrate us with your crucial monologue.”

He said disinterested as he took a big swig from his golden wine cup.

“This is no joke Dionysus. It is the first time since the Titanomachy that we´ve faced a situation like this.”

Apollo had heard legends about the epic war against the titans, an event that changed the course of the world. His aunts and uncles fought alongside Zeus for ten years in order to dethrone Cronus and other titans loyal to the Golden Age regime. He tried his best to focus on the near future, but he couldn´t get past the next few days. He felt like a thick fog over him interrupting his vision of the future.  It was unusual for the god the sun to have his gift of prophecy clouded, specially in an event of such magnitude like his father was describing. His curiosity started to turn into genuine worry, and he focused his attention on Zeus once again.

“The Fates contacted me recently with news from the underworld. It seems that the king of the monsters found a way to break through the veil separating his prison in Tartarus from the rest of the infernal plane.”

“That’s impossible. The abyss in Tartarus is inescapable. Not even Typhon is capable of gathering enough power.”

Said Poseidon skeptically whilst stroking his magnificent beard.

“It is a different kind of problem brother. Typhon is trying to seep some of his energy into the terrestrial plane. We´ve grown disconnected from humanity in the last century, and Typhon is trying to take advantage so he can gain some adepts of his own in order to amass divine energy to break free. I already consulted with Hades, and it seems a breach in Tartarus´s security is not impossible.”

“But what would that mean for us father? We still have enough divine power to launch a counterattack if he does manage to escape, we will be ready for battle.”

Said the mighty Ares. The god of war was known for taking aggressive decisions that lead to confrontation. His mighty physique was a testament for his strength and his prowess in combat.

“Not if he gains some divinity himself. The monster already possesses enough strength on his own to blow up half of Olympus. If he acquires some power from human devotion, not even I will be able to stop him.”

It wasn´t fitting of Zeus to admit inadequacy of any kind, and Apollo knew it. He grew only increasingly uncomfortable imagining the possible outcomes of a monster invasion. In any scenario, Earth would face the biggest catastrophe.

“What do you suggest we do now father? Humanity isn´t what it used to be. The facilitated communication of humans has bred doubt and paranoia. It won´t be hard for Typhon to appeal to humanity´s loss of self in order to succeed.”

Said Athena who out of her siblings seemed the most invested in the problem at hand. Hades who had been cautiously quiet listening to the conversation raised from his seat to answer the wisdom goddesses’ question.

“It seems we got time on our side, my honorable niece. Infusing earth with energy direct from Tartarus will take time. And the first thing Typhon will try to gain are champions. Without some avatars directly on earth he is still powerless”

“Don´t be ridiculous Hades. There hasn´t been a champion on earth since ancient times. Let alone a hellish spawn from the original monster himself.”

Exclaimed Poseidon with a booming laugh whilst slamming his gigantic trident on the floor.

“Hades is right brother. A champion serving as a recruiter is the only way of gaining direct adoration. The negative energy coming from Typhon will take care of the rest. It´s only fair we do the same.”

Zeus´ stern face showed a glimpse of amusement, his muscular body almost twitching with excitement.

“It is time we choose a new Champion of Olympus.”

Everyone went completely quiet for a second. The incredulous eyes of the twelve Olympians were staring at the god of thunder. Then the room was immediately filled with chatter and discussion. Apollo looked around as his brothers and sisters talked aggressively between themselves. The idea of gifting divinity to a mortal hasn´t been touched in eons, so it was only natural for the godly unrest to take place. The ritual was long, complex and it required the cooperation of all the Olympians.

“But why father? What makes you think a new champion will do anything to stop the monster from breaking out? Last time we tried to make one divinity rejected him.”

Said Ares slamming his powerful fist on the armrest. The main reason the gods didn´t get celestial conduits on the terrestrial plane was because few humans were eligible for the gift. And even after getting one who was compatible with divinity, all Olympians had to agree on the candidate, and there was always someone who chose differently. If the will of one god was against the chosen one, the ritual backfired and the person would be consumed by the divine power.

“A champion will help us connect with humans again. Times have changed, and we won´t be able to amass enough power to retaliate against Typhon if we don´t gain adoration again. Besides, we are going to do things differently this time. Each of you will have the possibility of choosing one eligible candidate. Afterwards we will put the chosen ones through three heroic tests. The one that manages to complete the tasks will get our blessing, and so divinity will be achieved. If we all agree on these terms, we won´t kill the candidate during the sacred ritual. And we will be sure the best choice was taken.”

“It seems you already had this planned out brother.”

Said Poseidon in a slightly suspicious tone. It wasn´t unusual for his brother to come up with grandiose plans that required thorough cleaning afterwards. The god of the sea laid back his heavily muscled back on the chair and wondered about what Zeus was really planning.

“This is madness father. And even if the plan worked, we are not sure divinity won´t corrupt the champion. It has happened before. And I´m sure some of us won´t have Olympus´ best interest in mind when choosing a candidate.”

Said Athena whilst eying the god of wine, who was in-between drinking and undressing the Sentinels with his eyes.

“Of course, it would be you who started judgement sister. Perhaps if you sought interaction with other one than your precious little owl, you wouldn´t be practically embodying neurosis instead of wisdom.”

Said Aphrodite clearly in odds with her sister´s self-perceived moral high ground.

The room exploded in a cacophony of displeased voices. Apollo sighed as he looked at his family once again imploding on its own. He knew that deep inside everyone was excited with the idea of gifting a mortal with divine powers, it was a fascinating process. It allowed the gods to mold a person according to their needs, and of course desires. The trip down to the terrestrial plane could be a hassle, but nothing none of the twelve Olympians could handle. He was particularly keen on seeing what his normally silent brother Hephaestus and his hermit twin sister Artemis would come up with.

Suddenly Zeus slammed his hand on the giant round table on the center and thunder flashed all across the room and resonated with a deafening sound that completely drowned the gods´ anxious voices.

“The decision is made. According to Hades we got exactly until the next lunar cycle for Typhon´s energy to start leaking out of Tartarus. Until then the champion has to be chosen and ready with his task so we can avoid the most corruption possible. Each Olympian must have their candidate ready by the next full moon and present him before the celestial gateway on the base of Mount Olympus. That is an order.”

Zeus´s eyes flashed excitedly with the glow of golden lightning.

“Meeting adjourned.”

The king of the gods then disappeared with blinding thunder. Each god made their way out of the palace to get ready for the task at hand. Apollo got on his chariot and smiled. Apparently, a new form of inspiration was presenting itself to him, and he was going to enjoy every second of it. It was fitting for his father to turn a crisis situation into a competition, but this time Apollo was excited to participate. The chariot of the sun then departed hastily into the night sky as the thunder clouds dissipated and a dark moon adorned the firmament.

#olympic gods #transformation #musclegrowth

[countessmorgasson]

Meeting Adjourned 

Spicy Lucio x MC! Lucio’s interrupted during a meeting..

Gender Neutral MC

(Disclaimer: Based on Lucio’s route- minor spoilers. 🍋🍋 warning!)

“Tell me again why you’re sneaking me around.”

You thought you had been called to the palace for a date, but when you arrived at the gates, Lucio all but covered you up before taking you around the back entrances, through his old wings, and to the conference hall.

You never spent much time in this particular room. In fact, are you even allowed to be here? This was where the court held their meetings, wasn’t it? 

Empty as it was, you suddenly felt a sense of unwelcoming, like you really were sneaking around. However, Lucio naturally didn’t see it that way, and sank into one of the extravagant chairs, pulling you on his lap. 

“Well... you’re technically not supposed to be here today. Noddy asked that I wait until after our meeting to find you, but I just miss you too much.” 

Lucio ends that sentence with a sloppy kiss on your cheek. 

“Why shouldn’t I be here?” You ask.

“Oh, the court would go on forever about that,” he scoffs. “Something about you being a ‘distraction’ for me, and how they need my full attention today, blah blah blah. It’s all so boring, m/c.”

You raise an eyebrow. 

“What’s going on today?”

“Seriously? You’re interested in the court’s stupid rules?” He rolls his eyes, but trails his fingers along your back, softly- making your arms break out in goosebumps. He sighs. “Well now that yours truly is back in the living world... Nadia’s decided to hold a meeting. I guess they’ve got to decide what to do with me.”

You stare him dead in the eyes. 

“Lucio, that’s important.”

“Is it? We all know I can’t leave the palace- they wouldn’t dare give me the boot.”

You lift yourself from his hold, ready to make your exit. Normally, you loved skirting around the palace with him- even if it drove some of the others a bit crazy. But a meeting like this has everything to do with his future as the Count- maybe even as a citizen of Vesuvia. 

“Aww, don’t be like that!” He whines. “Look, nobody’s even here. Just stay, for a little.”

You hesitate. He’s right; there’s no meeting going on right now... so there’s no harm in spending a few minutes together, is there? After all, it seems like ages since you’ve really spent time together. You give into his pout with a smirk.

“..Fine.” You circle behind him, draping your arms over his shoulders and kissing his cheek. “You better promise me you’ll be on your best behavior.”

“Oho, I won’t make a promise I can’t keep.”

...Really?

Before you make a snide comment, Lucio whips you around and pulls you closely, your lips meeting in a hurried kiss. You lean into it, suddenly losing your train of thought. Before you know it, you’ve climbed over him again, letting him plant feverish kisses along your neck.

“Lucio...”

“You smell absolutely delicious.”  You nearly squeal when you feel Lucio’s cold hands under your shirt- pressed against your back. He’s softly moaning into your skin, and for a sweet moment you both forget where you are. He holds back a moan when you shift around on his lap. 

Oh no. That’s definitely not a knife in his pocket...

“Lucio!” You tear yourself away, eyes wide. He’s grinning shamelessly, despite an embarrassed flush on his cheeks. “We can’t do that right now. Someone could walk in!”

“Imagine the trouble we’d get in...” He bites his lip in thought, and you know you’ve made a mistake. This sounded like an important meeting. Lucio can’t afford to be this distracted if-

You’re both shocked at the sound of a doorknob turning. Your heart nearly comes to a still, but an even bigger shock is when you hear Lucio audibly gasp.

“Get down!”

He’s shoved you to the floor, just out of sight.  Oh! How rude.  You scramble under the table as Lucio scoots forward. You’re just at his chair, staring at his crossed legs. You can’t believe this. Does he really think you can hide through a court meeting? That could take hours! Right? You’re not sure how long they take, actually... but still. 

“Lucio?”

Dear Gods, it’s Nadia who walked in. You know her voice too well. 

“I must say, I’m surprised to see that you’re the first one here.”

You can’t see her, so you scoot closely to Lucio in hope that she doesn’t accidentally kick you when she takes her seat. You uncross his legs, trying to tuck yourself as close as possible to his chair. 

Oh, wow. 

He’s rock hard.

You almost want to laugh. In any other situation, you would. 

“I- I just want to get this over with already.” You can hear the pout in Lucio’s voice.  What do I do? Should you try and make an escape? Pretend you’re lost? Come clean?

All plans fly out the door as you hear footsteps come closer. More people.  Before you know it, everyone's taken their seats. You’re boxed in. Your fate is sealed.

“I see we’re all accounted for.” Is that Valerius? Now what would he have to say if he caught you down here?

You grip Lucio’s thigh, hard. This is your fault! What if we get caught? What if the court decides to banish you from the palace- or Vesuvia?

You can only think of the words you’ll have for him later, but to your horror, the grip on his thigh seemed to excite him. You recognize the surprised moan that echoed throughout the hall.

“...What was that? Are you feeling alright, Lucio?”

“Huh- yes! Just a... cramp.”

Serves him right... Well. I suppose since he wanted me to stay so badly...

Your racing heart begins to settle down. You’ve come to a decision. Your hand is still gripping his thigh... and he’s still very turned on, from what you can see.

There’s no reason why you can’t have some fun. That’s what Lucio wanted, right?

“I see,” Nadia goes on. “I suppose I’ll begin.”

She goes on, but your world suddenly goes silent. 

You move forward, gently working your hands over his lap- figuring out just how to get these pants off without arousing suspicion... 

It takes a moment, but now you’re kissing his bare skin, dragging your fingers daintily across his upper legs.  

Lucio starts to twitch- and he nudges you with his foot. You just respond with your kiss.

“In all fairness, you were the Count of Vesuvia, no matter how we felt... Lucio? Are you even listening?”

You’ve taken him into your mouth- and is that a shudder you hear? He’s not even trying to hide it?

“I’m... fine. Just...” Lucio clears his throat. “Someone fetch me water, would you?”

“You seem... warm. Are you feverish?” You don’t recognize whoever just spoke.

“No!” Lucio’s voice wavers when you work with your hands. “Just... don’t stop...”

“Erm... alright. Go on.”

“As I was saying...”

Lucio manages to reach his hand down, guiding you by your hair- closer to him. He’s surprisingly rough, grabbing your hair by the fistful. He must be so tense.  Don’t choke...

You swat his hand away. My rules this time.  He truly must be rubbing off on you, you realize. You’re starting to enjoy the thrill. Maybe because you know he’s the one squirming up there...

You work as slowly as you can- taking the occasional break to breathe. Silent kisses everywhere you can reach. You even drag your tongue along his skin, with a wet smooch. He twitches again, harder than he did last time.  You close your eyes, losing yourself in the moment.  It feels just as good to give sometimes. 

Enjoyable as it is, his body language is speaking to you- he’s close.  Really close.

“I’m prepared to allow you to stay in the palace.” Your ears perk up at Nadia’s voice. This meeting just gets more interesting. 

“You’ve shown great strides since... the incident. With m/c’s help, I’m willing to appoint you as a... consultant, of a sort. You may hold the title of Count, but you remain under my supervision.”

“M/c...” His voice is soft, not quite a whisper, but not a moan either.

“Yes? What about them?”

But he doesn’t respond.

You almost want to stop and listen, but that wouldn’t be fair. You’ve definitely put Lucio through the wringer, based on the sounds you hear him try to muffle. 

“Right. Well... that is the only way I will allow you to remain in the palace.”

You lick and kiss, feverishly now- as desperately as you can without making a sound. Exactly the way he likes it...

“What do you say?”

“Mm-!”

Lucio nearly breaks out into a full body spasm as he finishes- in your mouth.

“Mmm... hmm...” 

That was definitely a moan. You just made him orgasm in front of the entire court.

There’s a moment of silence, and you suddenly go cold. Did they catch on?  You’re frozen until you hear something break the tension. 

You think the sound is a gavel of some sort pounding against the table. You hurry to try and redress Lucio the best you can, as he seems frozen in his seat.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Nadia finally goes on. “However, I move that the meeting be adjourned. Lucio is obviously... delirious. We can finalize the deal when he is in better spirits.”

#the arcana fic #lucio x mc #smut #lucio smut #the arcana lucio #the arcana count lucio #count lucio #montag morgassson #🍋 #the arcana smut #my writing #mine

[world-of-aus]

Behind the Screen - (Timestamp 1)

Author’s Note: Alright so as to not confuse you all chapter 18 was essentially the last chapter. I am staying true to my word and there will be 24 chapters total for this series but the rest will be time stamps! This one is the first one! I hope you’ll enjoy what i put out for the first time stamp! As always tag lists are always open to be added or removed, thank you for reading!

Warnings: 18+

Chapter 18 / SERIES MASTERLIST

“You are probably the last person I should be asking but Rogers and Wilson aren’t cracking,” Natasha looks up from her steaming cup of coffee, eyebrow raised in a silent gesture for you to continue, “is Bucky acting rather strange to you?”

You watch her with curious eyes as she takes a sip of the dark roast in front of her, “define strange”  

A groan falls from your lips, “not you too!” You screech. Natasha shrugs her shoulders, “he’s no stranger than he usually is y/n, has he not been spending enough time in bed with you?” She teased.

A sigh escapes your lips, a pout painting itself on your lips, “I’m not talking about sex Nat-”

“Neither was I," she shoots back.

“He just seems off, I’ve known him for so long and we’ve been together a year, I would think I know him well enough to know when he’s not behaving like himself,” you murmured hand resting under your chin.

Nat places her mug down, “y/n I’m not telling you to brush off your concern, but don’t think too much about it, I’m sure he’s just being a man about things,”

“I hope your right Nat, I’m sure it’s nothing,”  

Natasha leaned forward to place her hands on yours, “it’s nothing y/n, maybe he’s just going through something and doesn’t know how to express himself, just give it time,” she offers you a smile, one you find yourself struggling to return.

In the hall Bucky was struggling to not run into the very kitchen you sat with Nat to comfort your worries, but he knew if he did go to you he would surely blow his cover.

“Stay strong man, just a few more hours,”

His eyes stay locked on your distressed form, “hopefully keeping her in the dark about this was worth it Sam, I should have just told her from the beginning,” he sighed.

“Then you would have been in the position she’s in Barnes, trust me this way works,”

“You better be right Wilson, you know I don’t like keeping her in the dark about things,”

Sam stifled a laugh, “you sure about that,” he’s questioning, “you were sure good at keeping her in the dark about your feelings for her.”

Bucky turns on his heel away from you, metal hand shoving at Sam, “shut your mouth birdbrain, let’s go meet with Steve before I completely backdown and go tell her,”

Bucky and Sam meet Steve in his bedroom, the one he hadn’t let you step foot in since he started all this, since making this decision without consulting you, god what if you didn’t want this, what if -

“Bucky, man relax, I can practically hear the metal clanks struggling to keep up in your mind,” Wilson speaks up, and Bucky knew he was teasing but it really does little to lessen the heavy worry that sits on his chest, he was never able to experience doing something like this with someone before yet here he is wanting to experience this with you.

“Sam’s right Buck, you need to relax, everything is ready to go, the plan is solid, all you need to do is your part when the time comes, and trust me, we know you won’t mind doing what you need to,” Steve laughs.  

Bucky lets himself relax, because Steve is right, everything is ready to go, there really is no backing out of this now, whatever the outcome may be at the end of the night, well he can only hope it will be one worth remembering.

“You sure nothing’s going to go awry?”Bucky’s questioning as he pulls his phone from his jeans to send you a message.

“Everything will go as it should as long as you keep her busy till we give you the go ahead, we have all hands on board, it’s going to be fine,”

“Well I sent her a text, I guess we should all start getting ready,”

You had just left the kitchen when your phone vibrated in the confines of your hand.

Meet me in the garage at 6.

You looked at your phone a little longer then you should.  

I love you doll.

There it was, something that had been missing for a few weeks now. When you asked Natasha if Bucky had been acting strange lately, you wouldn’t have bothered asking her or the other two had it not been something that truly bothered you. About two weeks ago Bucky had grown distant, you knew something was up, but whenever you tried to reach out and ask him he always managed to brush you off.  

He still managed to spend every night with you but your mornings well into your evenings you would barely see much of him. The worry hadn’t started up right away, it took a while for you to feel some sort of shift in the air but when you did, there was no hiding that feeling. It was like it reared itself into your side, slipping into your mind through your skin, picking and pointing out every little action that Bucky did that didn’t sit right. The more you had taken note of his behavior the worse you felt, and it felt worse that you felt there was nothing you could do to solve the issue, nothing that he would let you help fix.

You were passing by his closed bedroom door to get to yours when voices sounded from inside, and normally you wouldn’t be the type to intrude, but you couldn’t help it, you hadn’t seen him since you had gone to bed last night and even then he had been as distant as ever. You moved over to the door being cautious to not press in to close, “look Buck, if this doesn’t go well, just tell her how you feel, I'm sure she’s-” you couldn’t bear to hear the rest, the ugly thing rearing itself once more as your feet carried you to your room and away from the hushed voices. You shut the door softly behind you as your back fell against it, eyes shooting to the ceiling to will away the tears, it's not what you think, it's not what you think, but what if it was.

A groan fell from your lips as you moved away from the door deciding to keep yourself and your mind busy till you had to meet him later. If all the possible scenarios playing themselves in your mind actually came to, what a first anniversary this would be.

You were just applying the rest of your lippie when a soft knock sounded against your door. Your hand stopped mid swipe, your eyes checking the time on your phone you had five minutes before you needed to be down to the garage, it must be one of the others. Capping your lippie you placed it onto your dresser before moving over to the door. You pulled it open, your heart skipping a beat in your chest, breath catching in your throat, “hey sweetheart,”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, a low chuckle falling from his lips had your body shivering, “Buck, babe you told me to meet you downstairs, was I late?” you questioned your heart thumping heavily in your ears.

He was shaking his head, “I was just excited to see my best girl all dressed up for me, and I wanted to give you these,” he murmured producing your favorite bouquet of flowers from behind his back, how you had not noticed them was beyond you, but it could have been with how captivated you were by his smile that you hadn’t even thought to take a glance at the hand he had securely behind his back.

“Oh Bucky, they’re beautiful,” you cooed leaning in to smell their fragrance. “I’ll need to get a vase to put them in,” you murmured locking eyes with him.

He waved a hand at you, “nonsense doll, why waste anymore time, just leave them on your bed, and we can get them in some water later,”

You raised a brow, “but Bucky-”

His hand was reaching for yours, pulling you in closer to his, “promise doll as soon as we’re back I’ll get those in a vase for you, now come on we don’t have all night,”

As much as you wanted to argue that you did have the time, you decided against it as you slipped from his hold going over to the bed to lay the flowers there and grab the rest of your things.

Making your way back over to him, his arms wrapped around you once more. He leaned in to press a kiss to your head as he led you down the hall. “You look beautiful baby, tonight’s going to be a night to remember,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

“I hope so,” I really hope so.

The walk you were taking was all too familiar, would the events be similar to that time, would your night end in disappointment, like it did that night?

“here sweetheart, safety first,” Bucky grinned passing you your helmet. His grin faltered when he noticed the apprehension on your features. “You okay doll?” he questioned his own nerves rising, “you seem kind of out of it?” oh god he should have just told you from the beginning.

You shook your head forcing a smile as you took the helmet from his hands, “m’fine, guess just feeling a little nervous is all,”

Bucky knew you were lying, could see it written all over your features that there was something bothering you, and he knew it all had to do with him. He didn’t hesitate to reach out to you, to wrap you up in his arms because he knew where your insecurities were lying the most, he knew you sensed his distance towards you. A hand cupped your cheek, while the other laid securely around your waist, “y/n, whatever it is your thinking, whatever it is your feeling, I promise you have nothing to worry about, I love you sweetheart, and tonight is about you and me, you have nothing to worry about,” he assured his fingers caressing your cheek, “i love you, and I don’t want you ever thinking otherwise.”

Your lips parted as you stared up at the man, “d-did you,” you shook your head, “what?”

A low chuckle vibrated from deep within him, “I know you better than you think y/n,” he grinned pressing his head to yours, “and I know your worried about something, and its fine if you don’t want to tell me, because just like you respect my boundaries, I'm respecting yours, but just know that I love you, and that’s not going to change anytime soon, trust me,” a kiss was pressed to your head before his body was removing itself from yours. You watched him mount his bike, his hand stretched out towards you, “c’mon babe, there’s some places I want to show you.”

You were pressed up against Bucky’s back your arms fastened tightly around his middle. The sun, like a bashful youth kissed for the first time, glowed a peach-pink. The last of its rays shining brightly before giving way to the stars peeking out underneath the darkening night sky. The roads stretched out the farther Bucky took the two of you. Bucky came to a stop, his hands gently running over yours. You slipped your hands from around his waist, carefully sliding yourself off the back of the bike. Pulling the helmet off you looked around the very secluded area Bucky had brought you once before. There’s still not a single street light in sight, the only glow of light is that of the illuminating moon and stars overhead. You’re still in awe of the beauty around you, just like that night there’s a specialness to the moment; you almost couldn’t bring yourself to look away, almost. A smile is pressed to your lips when you turn to face him, you couldn’t quiet pinpoint his expression, but the intensity of the way his eyes were staring you down has you knees wanting to give away.

A smile breaks out across his face, pearly whites gleaming in the moonlight, “c’mere, doll,”  

Your moving over to him, your hand sliding into his, a grin pulling at your face, “are you looking to talk or actually jump my bones?”

He’s laughing as he pulls you in close his head falling to yours, “hop on and you’ll find out sweetheart,”

Laughter is falling from your lips as he tugs on your hand helping you lift your leg so your straddling the bike. Once you’re situated the best you can be, his hands are finding their way to your hips, cool and warm meeting your curves, a shiver rolls through you.

He’s looking at you intently, his thumbs running over the smooth skin of your hips, “you know this wasn’t exactly how I had planned tonight, I was hoping to do things differently,”

You can’t help to speak the words that had been on your mind for weeks now, “is that why you’ve been so distant?”

“you could say that,” he sighed, “it's just I wanted things to be perfect, but I just-” his head fell.

“You just what?” you questioned hands finding there way to his face to get him to look at you once more, “bucky being with you is enough for me, there would have been no better way to spend our anniversary than in your arms, you didn’t have to do anything over the top for me.”

He’s shaking his head a small smile pulling at his lips, “well then you're in for it tonight sweetheart,”

Your raising a brow at him, but you don’t get any further explanation as his phone begins to ring in the confines of his jacket. You watch as he reaches for it answering the call before he's bringing it up to his ear. You watch with interest as he hears whatever the other person tells him quietly on the line before he’s ending the call the phone slipping back into the confines of his pants.

You can see the nervousness creep into his features, “you ready to go to our last destination?”

“you mean this wasn’t it?”

He’s shaking his head, “we have one last stop, you up for the ride?”

“with you,” you murmur leaning forward, “always,” you whisper pressing your lips to his.

You pull away a smile on both your faces, “good now turn around,”

Your eyes go wide, “no,” you shake your head, “absolutely not, Bucky I am not sitting in the front,”

“Do you trust me?” he’s questioning you then.

“You know I trust you,” you murmured heart racing in your chest.

“Then trust me, I’m right here with you babe,”

“Buck,” you whine, you really didn’t feel comfortable, “I barely drive one of these on my own time and feel comfortable I’m not sure how-”

“Turn around doll, I’ve got you,” and there was this look in his eyes that you couldn’t refuse. Letting a puff of air leave your lips you gave in slipping off the bike only to slip back on.

Bucky’s handing you the helmet again as you get yourself adjusted, “I’ve got you forever,” he breathes into the air as his arms go around your waist the engine roaring to life beneath you. There’s an indescribable feeling settling in your chest, as you drive the two of you to your last stop for the night, its invigorating is what it is. You feel whole, like the two of you have become one in this moment alone, you’re high off of it. Bucky continues to guide you down the darkened streets, but you can’t help but to become confused when you drive through blocks filled with quiet homes. Had you and Bucky shared a moment here that you had forgotten about? You were only growing more confused as he had you pull into a driveway, a warmly lit two story home sitting before you.

Bucky was sliding off the back before you even had the bike parked, your hands came up slowly to peel off your helmet. It seemed the home before you looked even more grand with the helmet off, tearing your eyes away from the home, you looked over to Bucky, his hand stretched out and waiting. Taking his hand, you slipped from the bike his other hand taking hold of your helmet as he pulled you forward.

“uh Bucky, what are we doing here,” you questioned, “this is someone’s house,” because it has to be “isn’t this someone's house?” you’re getting nervous.

He didn’t help your growing nerves as he stayed quiet leading you up the pathway, stopping the two of you momentarily in the doorway, while he fished something from his pockets. There was a jingling of keys as he moved to unlock the door, he turned to you then, nervous laughter spilling from his lips, “this is someone's house,” he murmured as his hands pushed down on the doorknob.  

Your eyes widened, “what?!” You hissed quietly, “then what are we doing here Buck we sh-?”  

“it's ours,” he cut you off.

Your breath is catching in your throat as he swings the door open, “this,” Bucky speaks up gesturing to the home, “is why I’ve been distant doll, I know this is a huge step, but we’ve been with each other since we started this whole thing a year ago, and well-”

You’re throwing yourself at him then, his back colliding into the open doorway.  

“Oh Buck,” you murmur into his chest, “here you had me thinking the worse,” you added as you pulled away to look at him.

“His hand comes to cup your cheek, “I’m sorry doll, I should have told you” he murmured finger running over your cheek, “i was just worried that I might be moving us too quick, I mean this isn’t exactly an apartment babe, this is a house, our house, a house for me and you,”

You chuckled through tears, “Bucky I love you, I would have never thought we were moving too fast if this is something you wanted with me, because I want everything with you, I want it all, if it’s with you.”

He’s pulling you in then, your lips meeting feverishly with his as he pulls you into the home, his feet kicking the door closed. Your laughing into his lips as he pushes you further into the home, the back of your legs hitting what you could only presume was a couch.

Your falling with him onto the cushioned sofa his body covering yours. “Bucky, you need to show me the home, I want to see our home” you laughed breathlessly, his lips finding those sweet spots on your neck.

“I promise I’ll show you around later doll, been wanting to get my hands on you since I had you on that bike,”  

“Buck,” you whined, your back arching under his touch as his hands worked your shirt off.

His lips are trailing down your neck, between the valley of your breasts where he stops to lick at the skin there, “do you really want me to stop,” he murmurs licking a strip of your skin, his warm breath causing goosebumps to arise on your cooled skin.

Extra coolness is added to your heated body as his left hand trails up your stomach body arching with it, he stops just along the swell of your breast. His thumb reaching out to slide into the fabric of your black lace bra, gliding over your hardening nipple, heat pooling between your legs. A breathy moan falls from your lips at the sensation, Bucky chuckles lowly, warmth breath fanning across your dampened skin, “you don’t want me to stop do you?”

A shake of your head and the word “no”  has his hand moving away from your breast, fingers trailing down your skin. You suck in a breath - it always felt like the first time with him - his hand hovers just over the top of your jeans, metal fingers working gently to pop open the button, the zipper falling open with it. His hand flattens against your body dipping into your jeans, fingers cupping you through your dampened underwear, a moan falls from your lips as he presses a single digit into your folds, wetting the fabric of your panties more.

A low moan falls from your lips, your hips rolling into his hand, eyes slipping shut.

Bucky grins against your skin, his lips gliding up till they’re right by your ear, “we’re going to christen every inch of this house doll,” he whispers, “i want to take  you on every surface,” he husks, “to have you begging,a moaning mess under me.” he breathes teeth nipping at your ear.

“Fuck please,” you moan back arching off of the cushion. Bucky presses his hand down harder against you stilling your hips. He pulls his face away from your neck his eyes holding yours, “you’d like that, wouldn’t you baby, like me to fuck you.” He whispers, you swallow, tongue running over your lower lip. Your sucking in a breath as his fingers push your panties to the side, his index finger finding it’s way into your dampened folds. The sensation alone has a breathy “Bucky” falling from your lips followed by a broken moan as his finger grazes your clit.

His fingers work over your clit, your body writhing under his hand, broken desperate moans falling from your lips. A whine leaves your lips as Bucky tears his hand from your underwear, “Bucky no, please,” you moan hips chasing his hand.

He chuckles lowly, the sound making your thighs clench, “don’t worry doll, l’m going to make you feel good.” He whispers ducking down to press his lips to yours. He pulls away much too quickly, your lips chasing his as they find their way back to your neck.  

He licks, sucks, and nips at your heated skin as he trails down your body. Like his fingers he makes his way from your neck, down the valley of your breast till he’s reaching the top of your jeans. You watch him pull away from you leaning back on his feet as his hands reach down pulling on your jeans till your able to kick them off the rest of the way for him.

He’s adjusting himself on the floor, his hands pulling on your thighs as he adjust you on the edge of the couch, your legs spread for him. He scoots in closer; his head lowering between your thighs, his warm breath fanning across your mound, a shiver rolls through you. A loud moan falls from your mouth, “that’s right baby, be as loud as you want, let me hear you, he grunts, his mouth pressing harshly against your cotton covered pussy, his tongue presses into you, the cotton rubbing against your aching clit.

“Jesus Buck, fuck,” you gasp body arching off of the bed.

He laughs lowly, tongue still running over your covered mound, he gazes up at you from between your legs, “there’s no one around baby, it’s just you and me, and these walls are thick, so please baby, be as loud as you want.” Another moan rips through you at Bucky’s words, your hand reaching down to tangle in his hair as he continues his assault on your sensitive skin. His thumb is joining his mouth as he presses it into you, the digit rubbing against your aching clit, the fabric of your panties dragging deliciously against it. Your toes curl, your body writhing on the couch. He glances up at you from where he’s perched between your legs, his eyes darkening, “you going to cum for me sweetheart, going to cum for me like this.” He questions his breath ghosting over you.

A breathy “yes” falls from your lips, your body is buzzing with the need for release the teasing too much, you need to feel him. Bucky continues to nip and suck at your sensitive skin, thumb working faster against your clit. “Fuck,” you gasp , “please Bucky,” you plead, “please,” you beg. Your desperate for him, for the need of release. His thumb pushes into you harder, working over you faster, his lips latching onto you skin sucking. A chant of his name falls from your lips as your orgasm takes you by surprise back arching off the cushion, your fingers tightening in his hair.

Bucky barley gives you a second to catch your breath before he’s moving, his hands gripping the middle of your panties, ripping them down the middle.

“Bucky stop tipping my favorite underwear,” you whine.

He’s pressing against you again, his face presses in close, “I’ll buy you some new ones baby,” he murmurs, his tongue peeking out to press against your folds. His tongue dips in dragging across your entrance till he’s flicking up against your clit, the tip of his tongue circling it. Your chest heaves “you better,” is your breathy reply, your thighs clenching around his head from the pleasure surging through you.  Bucky takes a hold of  your thighs hands pushing them open, spreading you out for him, your back arches, breast pushing into the cooled air as his tongue flicks teasingly in and out of your soaked folds.

Your fingers flatten, searching for anything to grab ahold. His mouth works over you, taking you higher, he’s alternating between your clit and your dripping entrance.

“Bucky fuck,” you moan, “please.”

He continues to work you over, moans of pleasure falling from his lips, the vibrations leaving you quaking in his hold. Your fingers find their way into his hair, your eyes glancing down at him the sight alone leaving you a breathless mess. He glances up his ocean grey eyes connecting with yours, you weren’t sure it was possible but they seemingly darkened more as he pushed you closer to release. His arms wrap around your spread thighs pulling you into him more, his lips work faster, tongue gliding quicker as he works you over. A loud moan falls from your lips as he quickens the pace, his name falling from your lips in a silent prayer as your grind  up against his mouth. A moan catches in your throat, his lips finding your clit as he sucks harshly, his tongue working over it with quick strokes. Your pussy clenches, body heaving as the intense pleasure washes over you. Bucky doesn’t stop as he works you through your orgasm his tongue continuously flicking over you, dipping into you to suck up your juices. Your vision goes white as you clench around him fingers pulling at his hair.

“Holy fuck,” you choke out thighs trembling as you wind down, Bucky chuckles as he moves up your body kissing up your sweat slicked skin. He looms over you eyes hooded with lust, a small smile on his glistening lips. Your hands come up wrapping themselves around the back of his neck pulling him down to you. Your lips press against his, a groan falling from your lips as you taste yourself on his sinful tongue.

He pulls away to work his own clothes off, you take the time to watch not only him, but to get glances of the house behind his sculpted body. You don’t have much time to actually take in your new home because he’s moving in again, his hands pushing your thighs further apart as he settles between them. You watch through lust filled eyes as he grips his cock in hand running it through your folds teasingly before he’s pressing in, a slow delicious burn that has a shiver rolling hrough your spine. Bucky leans down his forehead pressing down onto yours, breathing each other in as he rolls his hips into you. His cock dragging in and out of you at a slow toe curling pace. Your body writhes against him, your heels digging into his ass to press him closer to you, you need to feel him, you want to feel him.

Bucky changes the angle; unwrapping your legs,  he hauls one over his shoulder the other gripped tightly in his hand as he spreads you out, the angle driving him impossibly deeper, a gasp catches in your throat, “fuck,” you moan, “fuck right there.”

“That’s it sweetheart, fuck just like that, let me feel you cum for me.” He grunts his thrust jarring you.

A few more hard thrusts and his thumb sweeping over your clit has you shouting out his name in a breathy moan. Your back arches, thighs trembling as the waves of pleasure wash over you. Bucky continues to push into you, dragging out your orgasm as his takes over, your name tumbling from his lips as he crashes into you.

Bucky slumps forward his face falling into your neck as he takes in a shuddering breath. “Fuck,” he grunts.

You can’t help but giggle beneath him, your mind falling into a pleasured state of disbelief, “I can’t believe we’re home,”

His head picks up then a a bright grin on his lips, “welcome home,”

More laughter falls from your lips as your hands pull him down to you, your lips finding his, “will you show me the rest of our house now?” You grinned into his lips.

“What would you like to see first?” He murmurs, his grinding into yours, cock half hard.

“Bucky,” you whine, head falling to the couch.

“I was thinking we could start in the master bedroom and work our way around.” He grins nipping at your skin.

Timestamp 2

Behind The Screen Tag-list: @ladifreakingda @georgialeighc13 @racewife2004 @multy-fandom-lover @otvlanga @sailorstupidsblog @wantingtobekorra @gazzan-a @clarinette07 @amanda-the-fangirl @im-sure-its-fine @sagechanoafterdark @heyywestman @runaway-escape @ilovesupersoldiers  @unlistedpond @rayofdawnworld @badassbaker  @fandom-basurero @krabby-tentacles @sassy-pelican @lizlepuffs @jaywolf840 @xoasalxo @buckys-henley @buchanansebba @the-cry-of-youth​​​​​​​ @ladywinchester1967​​​​​​​ @barnesjustice​​​​ @kseniiafirebrace​​​​ @b0nkybarnes​​​ @bucky-cinnamonroll-barnes​​​ @pinknerdpanda​​​ @dezzylou24​​ @therealprinceofcrime​​

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic

[ibijau]

chap 2 of the modern xisangyao, also on AO3

Against his better judgement, Meng Yao finds himself quite charmed by the too handsome researcher who wants to meet his employer

Mister Shanzi will be unhappy when he discovers that Meng Yao has agreed to meet with a researcher without first consulting him, but he is simply too curious. It is so odd for anyone to be so interested in that obscure painter, and so desperate to see more of his work. Of course, Mister Shanzi himself holds a clear interest in Nie Huaisang, one that he has unwillingly transmitted to Meng Yao… But mister Shanzi is an odd man, and ordinary people cannot be compared to him. 

For this reason, Meng Yao's first instinct upon being contacted by Lan Xichen had been suspicion. Mister Shanzi has his enemies, as Meng Yao knows well, and they try to act clever sometimes. 

His second instinct, after a quick internet search, had been amusement. Surely nobody expected him to believe that this man, handsome enough to play the lead in a drama, was a mere university teacher. 

A more thorough search had confirmed it though. Meng Yao knew enough about running a con to spot modified photos and fake credentials, and he had found none of that. Digging further, Lan Xichen appeared in the background of photos and was referenced here and there on relatives' social media, with no incoherence to the presentation he'd given in his email. 

So Meng Yao had found himself intrigued, and offered to meet and chat. 

A decision he half regrets now, because somehow, Lan Xichen is even more handsome in person. He is, in fact, the single most beautiful person that Meng Yao has seen in his life, easily outranking mister Shanzi who had reigned there supreme since the day Meng Yao met him during a con gone wrong. 

"I am so glad you offered to meet me," Lan Xichen says with a warm smile. "I am really sorry that I was so insistent, but it is so rare for several of Nie Huaisang’s works to be in a single place."

“I understand,” Meng Yao replies, trying to match the warmth of that smile when he can’t help being a little dazzled by that handsome stranger. “Though at the moment, my employer is a little wary of showing any of those paintings in his possession until he has inspected them all again. It is very embarrassing that several fakes fooled him, and mister Shanzi wants to restore his reputation. He is still getting used to modern technology, and how much it has changed the art market in recent decades.”

Mostly, mister Shanzi complains a lot on the matter, and keeps saying he’s going to have to change career soon. Apparently, back in the days, it was much easier to sell a decent fake as long as you also sold enough real things. But now with age testing of the paper and analysis of the ink, it’s nearly impossible to do a good enough job.

Of course mister Shanzi could quite easily make as much money only selling legitimate art, he has the connections, the collection, and impeccable taste. So Meng Yao suspects it’s not just about money, and more about the twisted joy of deceiving others. He can't fault him for that.

“Yes, that makes sense,” Lan Xichen sighs. “I was fooled as well, so I understand the feeling. It’s so disappointing, but not unexpected. Nie Huaisang attracts forgers like no other artists.”

Meng Yao nods sympathetically. He’s heard mister Shanzi boast that well over half of Nie Huaisang’s paintings in circulation are copies he made himself, and perfectly undetectable unless one runs those ‘damn new tests’ on them.

“If I may be so bold, why the interest in that particular painter?” Meng Yao asks. “Surely you could have found someone less complicated to study.”

Rather than to answer immediately, Lan Xichen considers the question. He takes a sip of tea with more elegance than this café deserves, and Meng Yao is struck once more with the idea that this man should be acting in drama, not writing essays nobody will ever read. It’s easy to imagine Lan Xichen playing the role of a noble prince, or even a god. 

“He’s just a fascinating character I suppose,” Lan Xichen says at last. “Outside of his art, we know so little about him. We don’t even know his real name.”

“What?”

Lan Xichen smiles, clearly very pleased to have gotten that reaction.

“He wasn’t born Nie Huaisang,” he explains. “That’s only his courtesy name. You see, he belonged to that… well, they called themselves a sect, though at the end of the day they were closer to nobility, with the same inheritance problems and power struggles. Still, Qinghe Nie held a number of beliefs, and one of them was that the birth name of its members had to be kept a complete secret… and Nie Huaisang is among those who succeeded at obeying that rule. So we don’t know his name, we don’t know his date of birth, and we don’t know how he died or when.”

“Is there anything that is known about him?” Meng Yao teases, more endeared and intrigued than he would care to admit.

Lan Xichen must notice, because he smiles again, as if delighted to have found someone willing to listen to his impromptu lecture.

“We know he was raised by his brother because their father died when they were young,” Lan Xichen says. “Well, half-brother. Nie Huaisang was the child of a concubine, or even of a servant. His father recognised him, but his legitimacy was called in question a few times. We know he survived a local insurrection nicknamed the Sunshot Campaign, though it’s unclear if he was old enough to have taken part in any fighting. His brother did though, with great success, but died without heirs a few years later and Nie Huaisang found himself in charge of a fief.”

He pauses there, his expression turning sadder, as if he were talking of a personal friend rather than a long dead man. Meng Yao finds it ridiculous and a little endearing.

“A few anecdotes from the lives of contemporaries tell us that he must have had a rough time at first,” Lan Xichen continues, “and he was suspected for a while of being implicated in the murder of the head of the Jin clan, but nothing ever came out of that. He’s just thirty at that point, still fairly young, and he lives on for another fifty, maybe sixty years… and we don’t know anything about what he does during that time. Nobody really talks about Qinghe Nie again until his successor rises to power and brings the clan back into the political sphere. Nie Huaisang’s life is a mystery. What little we think we know comes from the few poems he left, and whatever clues we can gather from his numerous paintings. Isn’t that fascinating?”

What’s fascinating, Meng Yao thinks, is the way Lan Xichen’s eyes light up when talking about something he’s passionate about. If it’s an act, then it’s an excellent one… but Meng Yao finds himself hoping that it’s sincere, that Lan Xichen really is just an odd man who is apparently half in love with a painter who died a millennium and a half ago.

There is no way that mister Shanzi would ever let anyone see his private collection. Even Meng Yao is barely allowed to go to his employer’s house, to avoid attracting attention to the place. Lan Xichen’s request is never going to be granted.

But it has been a long while since Meng Yao has been so intrigued by someone, not since first meeting mister Shanzi in fact. And mister Shanzi, in spite of the mutual attraction that Meng Yao knows to be there, has made it quite clear that he isn’t interested in anything but a professional relationship. Meng Yao has satisfied himself with that so far, because his life really is pretty good as it currently is, but Lan Xichen changes that. Surely there’s no harm in pretending that there’s a chance he might get to see the painting, at least until Meng Yao can decide if that too handsome man is trustworthy or not, dateworthy or not…

“It does sound interesting,” Meng Yao admits. “I’m sure mister Shanzi would…”

His phone starts vibrating, interrupting him. Meng Yao can’t help a slight frown, which turns to a deeper one when he sees the message he’s just received.

“Well, I have to go,” he sighs. “I’m really sorry. But… mister Lan, if I may be so bold, would you agree to exchanging numbers? That way we can continue talking about this more easily.”

“Yes, of course,” Lan Xichen replies. There is a trace of pink on his cheeks as he takes out his own phone, which Meng Yao finds both very fetching and rather encouraging.

He’ll have to be careful, this could be a trap, Lan Xichen might be an excellent actor, part of a team skilled enough to have fooled Meng Yao, but… but he might not be, too, and it would be a shame to miss this chance.

After having exchanged numbers and promised to be in touch soon, Meng Yao quickly heads home. He lives on the edges of the city, in a building that already looked ancient when he was a kid. Today’s a good day, because the lift is, in fact, actually working for once.

Upon getting to his floor, Meng Yao goes to knock on the door next to his. It opens nearly immediately.

“Meng Yao, you’re saving my life,” the young woman who lives there greets him. “I’m really sorry, I’ve tried everyone else, but I’ve been called in for an extra shift and I need the money so bad, I’ve had to buy her new shoes this month, and…”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind at all.”

His neighbour thanks him again, and rushes inside. She’s back quickly, her daughter in her arms. The child nearly throws herself at Meng Yao, and her mother runs off to work, leaving them alone.

“Well, Beastie, it’s just you and me,” Meng Yao says, walking to his door. “What are we going to do tonight?”

“Watch fighting movies! Eat candies!”

“And what will we tell mama we did?”

“Watch documentaries and eat greens and I went to bed and I was good!” The little girl roars.

Meng Yao laughs, and puts her down while he unlocks his door. Beastie runs inside to check the tv, while Meng Yao makes sure they actually have something to eat. He tries to keep his fridge full and his cabinet fuller, especially since Beastie has become a regular at his place. Her mother is a hard working girl who, like Meng Yao’s mother, got pregnant too young from a man who didn’t stick around. He used to babysit Beastie for extra cash before meeting mister Shanzi, and for some reason he never really stopped, even if he refuses to take money for it now. He just likes Beastie and her mom, and he remembers how much his own mother used to rely on neighbours too, whenever things became rough.

As Beastie and him settle down for the night, ready to watch one of those cheesy, over the top old kung-fu movies that they both love, Meng Yao gets a text from Lan Xichen, thanking him again for meeting him. After only the briefest of hesitations, Meng Yao quickly answers that he’s sorry he had to leave so fast, because he loved chatting with Lan Xichen. This prompts another text from the handsome teacher, to which Meng Yao replies as well.

His phone doesn’t stop buzzing all nigh, and Meng Yao doesn't stop smiling. 

-

In the days and weeks that follow, Meng Yao and Lan Xichen manage to meet in person a few more times, and text nearly constantly. At their second meeting they’re still pretending that this is only about Lan Xichen’s research, but by the third one they start openly chatting about other things.

Lan Xichen is very open about his life, and everything he says fits with what Meng Yao had found during his initial investigation. He has a little brother nearly fifteen years younger than him who lives with him, he enjoys teaching and researching equally, he has a pet rabbit called Liebing he dotes on, he can’t handle spice at all, he has, in fact, been asked more than once if he was interested in a modelling or acting career but always refused because academia is his calling.

Meng Yao is more careful with the information he shares. He admits to having worked for mister Shanzi for nearly five years, but doesn’t elaborate on how they meet because that's not a story for honest people. He confesses he didn’t have any particular interest in art until taking the job, though he has tried to educate himself on the subject since then (Lan Xichen offers to go to a museum together someday, and to his own surprise, Meng Yao agrees). He doesn’t have pets, but he does have Beastie and he’s pretty sure that counts.

The way Lan Xichen’s eyes go soft over that… it does things to Meng Yao’s poor heart.

As does almost everything Lan Xichen does or says, in fact.

Meng Yao is half appalled at himself for how fast he’s falling for Lan Xichen. He tries to resist it, tries to be reasonable, but Lan Xichen just has to smile the right way, and Meng Yao’s heart flutters in his chest. He feels like a teenager with a crush.

He starts thinking like one, too.

Ever since meeting mister Shanzi, Meng Yao has been loyal to his employer. There is something about the man that demands it, and though he has never made threats of any sorts, Meng Yao can feel that mister Shanzi is not a man who takes kindly to betrayal.

And yet, it would be so easy to arrange for Lan Xichen to come to mister Shanzi’s home without his knowledge. Meng Yao is in charge of his employer’s schedule, so he knows where he is at any given time. He also has the keys to that isolated house in the middle of nowhere. It would be so easy, and Meng Yao has never been too good at resisting temptation.

At this point, he knows that if he tells Lan Xichen he won't see the paintings, the other man will be disappointed but will ask if they can keep seeing each other anyway. This isn't about finding a way to keep his attention: Meng Yao knows he has it already. 

It's about Meng Yao guessing how happy Lan Xichen will be to see those paintings, and deciding surely that's worth the risk. 

That’s how Meng Yao and Lan Xichen find themselves in a car one day, heading out of the city together. Meng Yao feels his skin buzzing with nerves, though every time he takes his eyes from the road to glance at Lan Xichen and finds him glowing and as excited as a child, he knows it was the right choice. It takes them a few hours to get to the house, which they spend chatting about a number of things. About midway through the trip, when they take a break, Meng Yao announces that due to a last minute problem, mister Shanzi won’t be able to meet them at the house, but welcomes them to check the paintings without him. Lan Xichen is of course disappointed and offers to try again another time, but Meng Yao convinces him it’s more convenient to go that day.

The house, hidden in a bamboo forest, takes Lan Xichen’s breath away when he discovers it, just as it did for Meng Yao the first time. It’s not particularly big or extravagant, but there’s something about it that makes Meng Yao’s heart ache every time he sees it, as if he’s known it before. It’s ridiculous, of course. He’d never really left the city before starting to work for mister Shanzi.

“It looks like home,” Lan Xichen whispers as he exits the car.

“Does your family have a place like that?”

Lan Xichen frowns, and shakes his head. “No, not at all. But it still feels like home. I can’t explain why… Ah, don’t mind me. Let’s just go inside.”

Meng Yao hides a smile and goes to open the door. In truth, he’d like to get this over with as quickly as possible. Mister Shanzi has no reason to be back from his trip until tomorrow, but Meng Yao won’t feel safe until they’ve left. It really is stupid to have come here at all, and even Lan Xichen’s happiness is starting to not feel worth the risk.

The house is quiet when they go in, and a little cold, making them shiver. It’s always fresh in there, which Meng Yao assumes is why mister Shanzi has taken to calling his home the Hanshi. 

“It’s not a very welcoming name for a home,” Lan Xichen says as he looks around, sounding a little distracted.

“It’s not much of a home anyway. He doesn’t live here most of the time,” Meng Yao explains as they head for the kitchen. “It has his private collection, a few personal belongings, and that’s it. He prefers to stay with friends or at hotels if he can. Check the fridge and you’ll see how bad it is.”

While Meng Yao pours himself a glass of water, Lan Xichen does check the fridge, and finds it predictably empty except for some forgotten leftovers. Sometimes, Meng Yao suspects that mister Shanzi doesn’t eat at all unless he has company.

After taking a moment to rest from the long trip, Meng Yao takes Lan Xichen toward the workshop in the basement, where he knows his employer usually keeps the best parts of his collection, fake and authentic paintings carefully divided according to a system he taught to Meng Yao.

It really feels more and more like a betrayal to be doing this, but Lan Xichen is glowing, and mister Shanzi will never know.

Meng Yao starts opening the door.

His blood turns to ice when he realises that there’s light inside the room.

He thinks, for a second, to stop and run away while he can, but it’s too late already. Lan Xichen would ask questions, and he wouldn’t like the answers. It could save him from also dealing with mister Shanzi’s fury at least, but even that won’t be afforded to him. When Meng Yao peaks inside, mister Shanzi’s swivel chair is turning toward the door, with mister Shanzi sitting crossed leg in it and looking curiously at the intruders.

It is painfully obvious that mister Shanzi isn’t expecting visitors. Instead of the polished outfits he favours in public, he’s wearing a pair of novelty boxers with emoji on them, and a hoodie two sizes too big with ink stains on the sleeves. His long hair isn’t in a neat braid, but in a messy bun held in place by some cheap chopsticks. In short, mister Shanzi doesn’t look like the refined young man he endeavours to be when he has to show his face somewhere, and more like a college student who has forgotten the taste of any food except instant noodle and energy drinks.

That impression is only made worse by the headphones he’s now lowering, and the game console on his lap. They must have caught him taking a break.

“Meng Yao, why are you…” mister Shanzi starts asking, unfolding his legs so he can stand up, only to interrupt himself when his gaze falls on Lan Xichen.

His hands start shaking, badly enough that his console falls from his grip and onto the floor, its screen cracking upon impact.

“You!” mister Shanzi gasps, eyes wide with terror.

#xisangyao #xiyao #lan xichen #jin guangyao #xisang #mostly just hinted but still #jau writes #counterfeit au #next chapter will probably be pretty short