#please just focus on Beau With Her Hair Down

[waywardxwords]

The Fix - Part 4

Summary: Everyone has a past, but yours seemed to haunt you. You've tried to move forward with a normal life, but the day comes when that's not possible anymore. When Sheriff Beau Arlen enters your life, you're certain he is going to judge you just like everyone else in town does. But something about Beau is different.

Warnings: Child abduction, mentions of domestic violence, language, gun violence, mentions of drugs/drug use

Word Count: ~2.5k

A/N: I want to preface this by saying: I don’t usually bring up real life situations or discuss what’s going on in the world on this Tumblr. My page is meant to be a safe space for anyone who comes to read fiction, and it will remain that way. I want to put a heavy disclaimer on this that there is mention of gun violence in this chapter. I live in the United States where gun violence seems to be a daily occurrence, but I know reading about it can be triggering for many (especially with recent events). Please know that it is not my intention to trigger anyone, and I absolutely respect and encourage you to skip this chapter if you are not comfortable reading. My descriptions are vague, but I still want to be clear that it is a topic in this chapter.

Pop, pop, pop. 

The sound was nauseating and caused you to bolt upright in your bed. You were disoriented and confused—you didn’t even remember falling asleep. 

Beau’s voice was muffled through your closed bedroom door. “Jackson, drop the gun!” He demanded with a tone you hadn’t heard him use before. “Nobody else needs to get hurt.” 

Nobody else? Your heart was in your throat. Bailey. 

You pulled on the metal doorknob and swung it open so hard that it clanged against the wall and bounced back. It was so loud that it caused Beau to flinch slightly, but as you stepped into the hall you realized his focus was fixated on someone in your kitchen, his gun drawn and aimed in that direction. 

“Darlin’, I’m gonna need you to stay put,” Beau’s tone had shifted slightly—it was more gentle—but his gaze remained locked on the person in your kitchen. 

“Is that her? Is that my wife?” You heard the voice of the man you had worked so hard to forget. 

“Jackson,” you muttered as you ignored Beau’s request and moved down the hallway. “Where is she? Where’s Bailey?” Your heart thudded against your chest so hard, as if you had just run a marathon. As you approached Beau, he adjusted his hold on his gun. 

“Dammit, I asked you to stay put,” he grumbled. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t follow directions well,” your eyes were fixed on the man in your kitchen. As he came into view, you noticed how awful he looked. He was either tired or high, maybe both. “Jackson…” you started again. “Where is Bailey?”

“She’s safe,” Jackson moved, pointing his pistol back and forth between you and Beau. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair disheveled. It looked as though the clothes on his back had been worn for days. 

Your feet wanted to take off running in the direction of where he had come from to find her, but your eyes found the barrel of his gun and you tried to will yourself to stay put. 

“Alright, let’s take it nice an’ easy,” Beau broke the silence. “Nobody has to get shot, Jackson. We gotta get an ambulance here for my deputy, okay? Can I radio in that I need an ambulance?” He was putting the ball in Jackson’s court. Beau recognized that Jackson yearned for control in every situation; he was better at this than you had realized. 

“Fuck no,” Jackson spat. “Ain’t nobody leavin’ here but her.” He pointed the gun back at you. “You sleepin’ with a Sheriff now, baby?”

You cringed at that word: baby. It brought back flashbacks filled with pain. 

“I’m just here to keep an eye out, is all,” Beau spoke before you could even process what to say. “Every deputy, cop and FBI agent is lookin’ for you right now. I’m here to keep her safe.”

“Looks like you’re doing a great job of that,” without breaking eye contact with Beau, he leaned to the side and spit. “She’s comin’ with me. We’re gonna be a family again.” He cocked his head—he was out of his mind at this point. You had never seen him this far gone, which terrified you. 

“Yeah, I’m not gonna be able to let that happen,” Beau’s jaw tightened and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed his finger twitch by the trigger. 

“Beau…” you started softly to try and calm him down. You knew the only way to Bailey was through Jackson. His finger twitch made you nervous.

“Oh, we’re on a first name basis now, are we?” Jackson asked, annoyed. 

You ignored it. “I want to go,” you continued to speak to Beau. “I want to be with Bailey.” There was a pleading tone to your voice. For the first time in this entire encounter, Beau looked between you and then back at Jackson, incredulously. 

“Not gonna happen,” Beau said firmly and his jaw muscles flinched. Your breath hitched in your throat when you saw the shadows creep beyond the window just past Jackson. More people were coming—an array of officers and FBI agents, you could assume. You wanted to stop them—you were so close to getting to Bailey. She was so close, you could feel it. 

“You don’t get a say in this one,” Jackson practically snarled. “Come on, baby. Let’s go.” He held out his hand that wasn’t gripping the gun. 

Before you could even move, a shot rang out and ripped through the glass. You watched Jackson’s eyes widen. A scream fell from your lips, but before you could process—Beau’s arms encircled your waist and tackled you into the hallway up against the wall. He pulled your head to his shoulder, his fingers spanned out over the back of your head. His body covered yours against the wall and you realized he was trying to shield you from a potential gun fight. 

“No, no, no!” You screamed against his shoulder. You pushed and shoved against his chest, but he was a boulder and wouldn’t budge. “He knows where Bailey is! He’s the only one who knows!” You realized at that point tears had started to flow from your eyes and sobs shook your entire frame. 

“Relax!” Beau commanded over the noise of officers and agents entering your home. “Just take a breath for a second.” He pulled back when he realized the moment was under control. 

“Jackson Lyle, you are under arrest,” someone said as your body shook against the wall. As Beau removed his frame from yours, his eyes watched you closely. That painstaking, sympathetic gaze was back, and it only made you more frustrated. 

“He’s the only one who knows,” the repeated words fell in a whimper from your lips. 

“I hear you, darlin’,” Beau said softly. His fingertips trailed up to brush back a strand of hair that had fallen over your eyes, and you wondered if he realized he had even done it. “You couldn’t have gone with him.”

You pushed past him, and were surprised to find out he didn’t try to stop you. As you entered the living room once more, you saw Jackson on the floor with his hands restrained behind his back in cuffs. There were two FBI agents standing over him, as well as deputies and officers casing your home and marking evidence. Jackson seemed to be conscious—by the looks of the pooling blood, it seemed he had been shot in the shoulder at least once. 

“Where is she, Jackson?” You asked firmly. It was your goal to get some kind of answer, just in case he would lose consciousness at any given moment. 

Jackson’s eyes floated over you before he leaned to the side and spit in your direction. “Can't tell you that now, baby. We could've been a family again.”

Anger burned the pit of your stomach. “You son of a bitch,” you started, before you lunged towards him. 

The arms that encircled your waist from behind were beginning to feel familiar. “Hey, hey, hey,” Beau’s gruff voice rumbled just behind your head. “I want to kick his face in just as much as you do, but we gotta do this right.” 

Your breathing calmed a bit as the FBI agent you recognized stepped forward. “Sheriff,” his eyes burned into Beau. 

“Agent,” Beau tipped his head at Matt, the agent from earlier. 

“Do you have any idea how many problems you’ve caused?” The agent ignored your presence. 

“We got the guy, didn’t we?” Beau shot back.

You held your hands up to stop the back and forth. “My daughter is still missing. What are we doing to find her?” You looked at Matt expectantly. 

He sighed but finally pulled his gaze away from Beau. “We have agents searching the direction we tracked Jackson’s truck from. They’re also checking the truck for any evidence,” he answered. “He has to go to the hospital, but we’ll question him more as we get there, and then once the doctors are done with him.”

Your mind raced to think of what else could be done. “Which direction did he come from?” You asked. Matt didn’t answer. His eyes hovered over you for a moment. “I asked you a question, agent.” You couldn’t control the tone of your voice, you were desperate. 

“I can’t tell you that, ma’am,” he sighed. 

“My five-year-old is out there, alone,” you seethed. This time, Beau didn’t stop you. “And you’re not gonna tell me which way I might be able to go to find her?” 

Matt spoke before he processed. “Do you know who your ex-husband is associated with? He runs with some of the most dangerous criminals you could think of. Drug traffickers we’ve been trying to bust for years.” 

“Is this supposed to make me feel better that my daughter is out there in insane danger?” You felt like you could puke at any given moment. 

“Listen,” Matt sighed. “We are doing everything in our power to get your daughter back. I mean this with all due respect, keep your nose out of it,” he glanced between both you and Beau firmly. “Or else you’re going to find yourself in an even bigger mess.” 

He didn’t give you an opportunity to respond. Instead, he turned to the paramedics who were busy loading up Jackson on a gurney. 

“Keep him cuffed,” he said firmly as he escorted them through your home. 

“This is insane,” you muttered out loud with a hand to your forehead. 

“Excuse me one second,” Beau spotted the paramedics loading Mo up onto a gurney just outside on the front porch. He walked past the various law enforcement personnel. “Popcorn, you alright?”

“I’m alright, boss,” Mo managed a smile. Beau nodded and looked to the paramedics. 

“He should be okay,” one of them spoke first. “Looks like a direct shot to the shoulder, and there’s an exit wound. We’ll take him in and get him checked out.”

“Thank you,” Beau clapped the paramedic on the back. “Good work, Pops.” 

“Sorry he got through me,” Mo seemed disappointed in himself. 

“None of that,” Beau waved off. “No one saw him comin’. You did good.”

After he was assured his deputy was alright, he walked back through the kitchen and into the living room where you were standing. 

“Is there somewhere you can go?” A second agent approached you from the hallway. “Until we know if it’s absolutely safe, you should really stay somewhere else.”

You were still convinced you were going to get in your truck and go on your own search for Bailey, but you weren’t about to tell the FBI that. “I’ve got a place in mind.” You lied. 

“Good, we’ll reach out as soon as we know more,” he nodded at you and went on to process any additional evidence. 

You high-tailed it for your bedroom where you grabbed a backpack and filled it with some clothes and other things you might need while you were away. Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the man in the doorway until he spoke. 

“Where are you gonna go?” Beau’s voice halted your movements, but only for a second. You quickly glanced over your shoulder. He was leaned against the doorframe. You tried to ignore the way his muscles pressed against his brown jacket with his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Uh, somewhere,” you murmured as you returned your focus to packing. 

“Oh, so you have no plan,” he pushed off of the doorframe and walked towards where you stood. 

“I have a plan, you’re just not gonna like it,” you zipped the backpack up and pulled it up onto your shoulder. 

“You’re not goin’ on some wild goose chase,” he sighed. 

You pushed past him and headed back into the hallway. “I’m an adult, Beau. I can make my own decisions.” You were both silent as you passed agents and deputies along with two crime scene investigators. You took one last look around your home before you headed for the front door. 

As soon as you were off the last step of your front porch and away from any lingering ears, you heard his boots crunch behind you. “I can’t let you do this.” He said, the frustration clear in his voice. 

“You’re gonna have to arrest me, then,” you mumbled over your shoulder as you pulled your truck keys out of your denim jacket pocket.

“Aw man, do you know how much paperwork that is?” Beau grumbled. He sighed as you tossed your backpack into the truck. “Alright, alright. Get in my truck.” 

You eyed him suspiciously. “The last time I got in your truck, Beau, you did exactly what I told you not to do.”

“If I remember correctly, you said Jackson wouldn’t show up here and he most certainly did,” he bit back. He rolled his eyes when he noticed your firm stance—you weren’t willing to budge. “Listen, I’m gonna take you back to my trailer and we’re gonna come up with a plan.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, frustrated with his so-called ‘plan’. 

“Please,” it was a word you hadn’t heard often, and you felt a little bad about all the trouble Beau had gone through to get you to this point. “I’ve broken pretty much every order I’ve been given, darlin’. I’m willing to break a couple more but we gotta get settled and really think through our next steps. And something tells me you don’t have anywhere to go in this town, either.” 

Oh, so he’s handsome and smart, you thought to yourself. “Fine,” the word left your mouth with a huff. “But you promise me we’ll go look for her?”

“I promise,” he looked directly into your eyes as he said it. Your mind flashed back and you remembered how he had avoided eye contact when he couldn’t be honest with you about taking you home instead of allowing you to join the search party. So you decided to trust him. 

You pulled your backpack out of your truck and closed the door. “If you’re lying to me, Beau Arlen, I swear to God…”

“Oh, trust me, darlin’,” he chuckled. “Won’t make that mistake twice.” He walked the few short feet with you to his truck and pulled the passenger door open for you. You raised your brows at him, adding the fact that he was a gentleman, too, to your repertoire. 

After you climbed in, he closed the door. 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Posting this a few hours ahead of Saturday. I hope you enjoy! Thanks for all the likes, reblogs and comments. You all are appreciated!

New installments posted on Wednesdays and Saturdays!

A preview of the next chapter:

The drive to Beau’s trailer was mostly silent. As he pulled up the dirt drive, you took in your surroundings. This wasn’t really where you expected the Sheriff of the town to live; it was hardly a trailer—it looked more like a tin can, but it was quaint. The mountains behind were illuminated by the moonlight. Even in the darkness, you felt peace. 

“You live here?” You asked as he shifted the car into park. 

“Yes ma’am,” he sighed as he opened his door and you followed suit. “It’s not much, but then again, I don’t need much.” He smiled. In the glow of the moon, you saw his dimple again. 

“It’s quiet out here,” you chimed as you pulled your backpack from the floorboard and closed the car door behind you. You allowed him to lead the way as he walked to the steps that led to the trailer door. 

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#big sky fanfiction #big sky fan fiction #big sky fan fic #big sky fanfic #big sky ff #beau arlen fanfiction #beau arlen fan fiction #beau arlen fanfic #beau arlen fan fic #beau arlen ff #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x ofc

[bradshawswife]

Play it Again | B.B

based on Play it Again by Luke Bryan (just heard it on the radio and instantly thought of Bradley lol)

w/c: 2,507.

description: You and your friend visit her boyfriend, whos stationed in San Diego. While at a party, a tall sandy brunette haired Aviator takes a special interest in you.

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader

warnings: some suggestive themes, allusions to sex towards in the middle & towards the end. MINORS DNI 🔞 please. Bradley is adorable as ever.

a/n: one of my favorite songs ever and I just NOW realized this would work wonderfully with Bradley.

──────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────────

You and your bestfriend were from out of town visiting her boyfriend of a few years, on a whim. Her boyfriend was a naval aviator who was stationed here in Miramar, San Diego, more known as "Fighter town USA". You practically knew everything about him because your friend wouldn't shut up. And here you were, on the back of her boyfriends truck, all alone. Despite the fact that there were dozens of people surrounding you, the feeling of loneliness, due to knowing no one besides your friend and her beau, was overwhelming.

Peering up from your drink, which you resorted to staring at rather than look at everyone having fun, you notice a tall, sandy brown haired man with the stupidest mustache you've ever seen, stare at you. After about 2 minutes of noticing him stare you down, you looked behind you, wondering if his friend or girlfriend was behind you. Nope, no one. He was still looking at you.

Bradley got invited to his friend, Jakes, party one night. They rarely got together after work, but Jake emphasized that Bradley must meet his girlfriend. Hesitantly, he obliged. After meeting her, she mentioned that she brought a friend and before Bradley knew it, 1 drink quickly turned into more.

♬ She was sittin' all alone over on the tailgate

♬ Tan legs swingin' by a Georgia plate

♬ I was lookin' for her boyfriend

♬ Thinkin', "No way she ain't got one"

He found his way through the crowd, stopping a few feet away from Jakes truck. He noticed one of the most beautiful girls ever, sitting on the back of his tailgate, drinking from her solo cup. Her legs were swinging back and forth. She proceeded to focus on her drink, not engaging with anyone. How could a pretty girl be all alone like this, he thought. Quickly figuring out this was Jake's girlfriends friend, he proceeded to eye her up wondering if he should go sit with her. She looked pretty lonely. He assumed you knew no one else here, which was accurate. After a few minutes she turned around, probably looking for someone. She looked confused as to why he was staring at her.

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♬ Soon as I sat down I was fallin' in love

♬ Tryin' to pour a little sugar in her Dixie cup

After Bradley worked up the courage to walk up to one of the prettiest ladies he's ever laid his eyes on, he quickly made haste and sat down next to her on the tailgate.

You were beyond confused as to why this hunk of a man sat down next to you rather than all the other prettier girls, but you decided to not question it much, and just let this once and a lifetime experience happen to you. Having guys come up to you like this or pay even a little bit of attention to you was rare to say the least. You only had 1 serious relationship, which you felt was embarrassing seeing as it's been years since you've been in bed with anyone.

"Hey pretty girl, what's your name?" he asks, as your cheeks go bright red at the compliment. How was this happening to you? He's even more beautiful up close. Continuing to stare at your cup, which is nearly empty despite savoring it for this long so you wouldn't have to get up.

"Y/N," you say shyly, "What's yours?"

"Rooster" he says, grinning.

"Rooster? Did your mother not like you or something?" you ask, giggling. Bradley swears his heart just skipped a beat. You have the most contagious little giggle ever.

"Oh no, Rooster is my call sign" he says, looking nervous after your face made an expression to the word 'call sign'. "My names Bradley."

"Call sign? So you're in the Navy too," you ask, sighing because you knew all about dating military dudes. You see your friends relationship and what deployments do to her. Spending numerous days with her, after Jake left for a deployment. She was depressed and wouldn't get off the couch for days. You were always there putting her back together.

"Yes, I'm a Naval Aviator, is that a problem pretty girl? he mutters, nervously playing with his hands. Shit did he really just manage to blow his shot? Good going.

"Well, I don't mingle with Naval Aviators, I see what that does to my friend every time her guy leaves." you confess, chugging back whatever's left in your cup.

"Well darlin', this doesn't have to be a permanent thing. You're friends with Hangman's girlfriend aren't you?" he asks, already knowing the answer but didn't want to seem like he was stalking you.

"Yes. I'm assuming you're friends with Jake then?" you chuckle. Jake got on your nerves quite frequently. He was always one of those show boat kind of guys, who you absolutely couldn't stand. But, he was your bestfriends 'soulmate' as she said, so you tolerate him.

"Oh yea, we go way back." he admits, smiling. He has a pretty smile. You could be fine with a one night stand with this man, if that's what he meant. You never did these things, so this was all new territory for you.

♬ Talkin' over the speakers in the back of that truck

There's music blaring from Jake's truck, he turned the music to his favorite station before he left with your friend. It's loud enough to hear the music clearly, but not too loud that you can't hear Bradley. You loved his voice, it was like music to your ears.

♬ She jumped up and cut me off

As soon as you heard the beginning beats to "Great Balls of Fire" by Jerry Lee Lewis, you quickly slid off the tailgate. Oh my god, this was your absolute favorite song. You probably look insane leaping off the truck that quickly, but who cares.

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♬ She was like, "Oh, my God, this is my song

♬ I've been listenin' to the radio all night long

♬ Sittin' 'round, waitin' for it to come on and here it is"

Bradley looked at you as you slid off the tailgate, your sundress slightly getting caught on the end of the truck. He quickly looked away as you turned around to look at him. He hopes you didn't catch him glance at you. His cheeks turned red almost instantly.

"Oh my goodness I love this song. I've been waiting for it to play." you state, dancing with the beat. You start singing along with it, realizing Bradley is also singing it. Little did you know, this was also his favorite song.

♬ She was like, "Come here boy, I wanna dance"

♬ 'Fore I said a word she was takin' my hand

♬ Spinnin' me around 'til it faded out

You decided to go out of your comfort zone, and grab Bradleys huge hand, making him stand up with you. "Let's dance Rooster." you say, smiling as you spun around with him. You both quickly fell into rhythm.

Bradley can't believe this seemingly shy girl just pulled him up to dance. How he's here dancing with the prettiest lady ever, to his favorite song, is beyond him. He's starting to worry that his "this doesn't have to be permanent" stance won't last long, if she keeps twirling with him like this.

♬ And she gave me a kiss

You can't tell if its the alcohol or your attraction to Bradley, or both, but you quickly pull his shirt in to kiss him. His lips were just as soft as you imagined.

"Wow, that was unexpected," he begins to say, "but I'm glad you did that before I was going too" he laughs as you rest your head against his chest. The height difference is pretty cute, you're about eye level with his chest.

♬ And she said, "Play it again, play it again, play it again"

"I hope that song plays again." you grin looking up at him. You're both swaying even though the song is upbeat.

He has his arms wrapped around your waist, staring down at your smile. You have the most beautiful smile he's seen. He becomes painfully aware of how 'whipped' he is.

"Me too, precious." he says, laying his head against your shoulder as you continue to dance. You too become painfully aware of how quickly you're catching feelings for him, wondering if you should just forget it all and risk it for this tall, handsome man.

♬ And I said, "Play it again, play it again, play it again"

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♬ I'd a gave that DJ my last dime

♬ If he would have played it just one more time

After you realized how long you two had been swaying, you pried yourself off of him. He looked sad at the sudden loss of comfort. You felt so safe in those few minutes, safer than you felt in years. Bradley wished the song would play again, just so you'd try and dance with him. It was getting kind of late, you haven't seen your friend in god knows how long, losing track of time with Bradley. Realizing you had no ride home if she left in her car with Jake, you contemplated asking Bradley to bring you home.

"Bradley, would you want to come back to my place?" you ask, hoping he said yes.

"Of course pretty girl" he says, placing a kiss to your lips, sending butterflies to your stomach. You loved when he called you that. It turned you into a giddy school girl. You turned Jake's car off and grabbed the keys, reserving them in your pocket for him to retrieve tomorrow morning.

You both made haste to Bradley's Bronco. You loved his truck, it was very unique. Seemed to fit his personality somehow.

Showing him the directions to your Airbnb, his hand rested on your thigh, just below where your sundress lands. Butterflies are going crazy in your stomach, and you can tell Bradley knows what he's doing to you.

"Stop teasing me, Roo" he grinned at the nickname from his call sign, also grinning because he's making you squirm over the littlest touch.

"Oh darlin, just you wait." he chuckles, moving his hand just a bit further. You were close to your place, hoping he'll step on the gas a bit.

♬ But a little while later we were sittin' in the drive in my truck

After he pulls into your driveway, your lips are attached once again. Breaking away from this steamy situation, Bradley turns up the radio. Hoping maybe your guys song will come back on and you can end the night even better.

♬ Before I walked her to the door

♬ I was scannin' like a fool AM, FM, XM, too

♬ But I stopped real quick when I heard that groove

♬ Man, you should have seen her light up

Scanning through the radio, hoping your song will come back on, Bradley starts to get defeated. You slouch back in the seat, not wanting this night to end. Once he got to the last station, preparing to turn his car off, by all odds you both heard the beginning of the song again. Your faces light up in happiness, the night doesn't have to end just yet.

♬ She was like, "Oh, my God, this is my song

♬ We've been listenin' to the radio all night long

♬ I can't believe that it came back on, but here it is"

"Oh my god it's our song again. What are the odds?" you beam, opening your door and meeting him in front of the beaming headlights.

♬ She was like, "Come here boy, I wanna dance"

"Dance with me again, Rooster." you grin, jumping at the beat of your song.

She had the biggest grin on her face, radiating pure sunshine. The headlights amplified her beauty even more. Bradley couldn't believe just how gorgeous she was, and here he was, standing with her in the driveway, a scene straight out of a fairytale.

♬ 'Fore I said a word she was takin' my hand

♬ Spinnin' in the headlights she gave me a goodnight kiss

Before he could say anything, you grabbed his hand and started spinning around with him in his headlights. It was a very romantic scene to anyone watching from their house.

Once the song was done, you kissed him again. This time, a goodnight kiss. He didn't want to let you go, nor did you. You gave him your phone to put his number in, once you finally parted your lips. After he returned your phone, you gave him a toothy smile. You were quickly falling more in love with a guy you swore you wouldn't.

♬ And I said, "Play it again, play it again, play it again"

♬ And she said, "Play it again, play it again, play it again"

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♬ The next Friday night

♬ We were sittin' out under the stars

♬ You should have seen her smile

♬ When I broke out my guitar

The following Friday, you two had plans to go out for dinner and sit by the beach. You weren't planning on staying in San Diego this long, but for Bradley? Anything.

You two quickly became close over the last week ish, texting and calling almost always when he was too busy to head over to you and your friends Airbnb. If you weren't convinced you were in love with each other, after tonight there would be no questions.

After dinner, which was lovely, you two laid on the back of his Bronco, staring up at the stars. You feel Bradley shift in his spot, reaching behind him. What you didn't know, was he was pulling out his guitar.

a/n: hi besties, I'm not sure if Great Balls of Fire can be played on the guitar, so just pretend that it can please lol

"Hey baby, I have a surprise for you." he states. As you sit up, you notice he's sitting on the edge of the tailgate with a guitar. As if this man can't get any more dreamy, he knows the guitar.

He starts playing Great Balls of Fire on his instrument. Which has absolutely captured your heart, even more than he already did prior to this stunt. You both sing along as he strums his guitar.

Once he's done, you feel the need to confess something you've been mustering up in your brain.

"Rooster," you grin, grabbing his hand to hold, "I think i'm falling for you, you big stud" you say, eyes watering.

"Oh darlin, so am i." he laughs.

"Take me to bed, or lose me forever." you exclaim, laughing as he tugs you off the tailgate.

"Show me the way home honey." he smiles, pressing a kiss onto your lips.

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TAGLIST:

@katiemcrae <3

@thesewordsareallihavetogive <3

comment on this post to be added!

#Spotify #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster fluff #rooster fanfic #rooster one shot #bradley bradshaw one shot #writing with tropic #i love this song #reader x bradley bradshaw #top gun fan fic #top gun maverick fan fic #izzy writes

[shivunin]

Collected DAI Ficlets

Below are links to all of my Dragon Age: Inquisition ficlets on tumblr. They are organized by type/chronological order per the headings.(Longer works posted here on AO3 and cross-posted here where noted).

(If you're looking for more, here are links to my Origins and DA2 ficlets)

Please let me know if any links are broken!

Emmaera Lavellan/Cullen:

A Bond Beheld: (1,710 Words) The Commander pledges fealty to the new Inquisitor

Tipsy: (209 Words) Conversation overheard while drunk

Lavender Cakes: (236 Words) A codex entry describing a special request from the Commander; (collected with a codex entry on a marriage offer post-Inquisition and rumors circa Trespasser)

Not a Moment Sooner: (1,159 Words) Cullen wakes from a nightmare and grounds himself with the presence of his lover.

The Last Minute: (996 Words) Emma and Cullen say goodbye as the Inquisition's armies prepare to ride for the Arbor Wilds

To Build an End: (1,524 Words, Fluff) As the dust of Corypheus's destruction settles around her, Emmaera looks first for her Commander

A Letter from the Viscount: (368 Words) Varric writes to see how the Inquisitor has been, and to deliver an offer

Entanglements: (704 Words, Fluff) A quiet, simple morning in retirement

Just a Hair: (676 Words, Fluff) Emma trims Cullen’s hair

From Behind: (513 Words, Fluff) Cullen reflects on life as a father and husband

Structural Integrity: (4,300 Words, Fluff) Cullen and his daughter build a pillow fort—now all that’s left is to test it (also collected in my anthology fic here on AO3)

Letters from Adhlea: (527 Words, epistolary) While Cullen visits family in Ferelden, his daughter writes him a letter with updates.

Elowen Lavellan/Cullen

Hold Me Down: (1,206 Words) In the aftermath of Here Lies the Abyss, Cullen happens upon the Inquisitor in a vulnerable state.

Summer Tea: (897 Words) The Inquisitor takes a moment away from a party to rest on the balcony; Cullen joins her

A Sudden Squall: (1,613 Words) An abrupt storm forces Cullen and the Inquisitor into close quarters

A Storm’s Aftermath: (786 Words) Elowen tries to be normal after nearly kissing the Commander (she…doesn’t quite manage it, but neither does he)

At Your Side: (678 Words) As Elowen returns to her room in Skyhold, Leliana notices a new mannerism

Disarming: (773 Words) The Commander and Inquisitor spend a morning training

Falsehoods: (851 Words, Hurt/comfort) Elowen takes a wound in battle; Cullen visits her room at the inn to make sure she's alright

Call Your Mother: (515 Words) A letter from and to Elowen’s mother regarding her choice of beau

A Resolution: (1,086 Words) Elowen reflects on the consequences of having fallen in love with a human

Daybreak: (615 Words) After the events of Your Fate for Mine, Cullen wakes in bed with Elowen and finds himself with a small predicament.

Salshira Lavellan/Cullen

Slander: (547 Words) Codex entry detailing several complaints about the Inquisitor

The Fire at the Center: (556 Words) Cullen tries to focus on his prayers, with some difficulty

Wait: (621 Words, Fluff) Salshira passes through Cullen’s office on the way to other tasks

Fires of Battle: (846 Words) Salshira closes the last distance before the Temple of Mythal and meets the Commander on the battlefield

A Hand Outstretched: (1,510 Words, T) Salshira struggles with the lack of news from Wycome; Cullen finds her when she needs him most.

News from Wycome: (740 Words, Emotional hurt/comfort) Cullen rushes to deliver a crucial bit of news

Don’t Look Down: (448 Words, Hurt/comfort) Salshira regains consciousness after a nasty fall

After the Dark: (841 Words, Hurt/comfort) Salshira returns from the Deep Roads; she is not doing well

A Story Chosen: (2,245 Words) Cullen and Salshira's daughter asks about adventuring and heroism while they wait for Salshira to come home from the market

Adahlena Lavellan/Cullen (aka the arranged marriage au):

Pip: (2,611 Words) Adahlena Lavellan and Cullen meet for the first time in the Elvhen lands at Halamshiral

The Morning Mist: (820 Words) Cullen and Adahlena take breakfast together in the gardens

Miscellaneous Mini-Fics:

Profane (Salshira)

Winnow (Salshira)

Cliff (Emma)

Truth (Elowen), Profane (Emma), and Initiative (Salshira)

Sweet Pea (Elowen)

Witch Hazel (750 Words) Emmaera discusses her daughter's magic with Vivienne

#cullavellan #emmaera lavellan #salshira lavellan #elowen lavellan #adahlena lavellan #shivunin scrivening #dai

[lyricalporcupine]

BeauYasha Week Day 7

CW for Character Death Sorry for the long delay, you can read the fic under the cut or HERE! As of right now, there isn’t any art to go with this. Sorry about that. Burnout sucks. But I do hope y’all enjoy day 7, and thanks for being patient!

~~~~ Yasha drew open the curtains, the warm, early summer breeze blowing across her face. The sun was setting, and the various colors of orange, yellow, and red helped soothe her frayed nerves. She could see the stars beginning to make their nightly debut, and she smiled despite herself. After a few moments Yasha turned away from the window, and she walked over to the bed and the figure resting in it. Yasha gently sat down on the edge, and reached her hand out to gently brush her wife’s hair from her face. Cloudy blue eyes slowly opened and turned towards her. It broke Yasha’s heart when it took Beau several moments to recognize her, but when she did, a huge smile split her face. “Hey, Yash,” was her half-asleep greeting. Despite the emotion tightening in her throat, Yasha managed a smile anyway. “Hi, baby,” she replied, voice soft. “How are you feeling?” Beau stretched beneath the blankets, her eyes closing, and Yasha caught sight of her toes pointing. Then Beau relaxed against the pillows, and her eyes opened and focused on her again. “Warm. Content.” She turned towards the open window for a moment before looking back to Yasha. “Is it time?” Yasha was surprised that Beau remembered their plans. Since her maiden flight, Yasha had taken Beau on many, many more over the decades they had spent together. Beau loved it, being wrapped up in a woman’s strong arms and the wind through her hair. She had admitted that night time flights were her favorite; the stars were just more beautiful than the sun, Yasha remembered Beau telling her. It was on such a night time flight that Yasha had proposed, asking Beau to share the rest of her life with her. Yasha smiled and brushed Beau’s hair back from her face. “It’s time,” Yasha said softly. “Excellent,” Beau beamed up at her. “My bo staff, please!” Beau playfully demanded. Yasha smiled and stood. Beau hadn’t wielded a staff for years; now she had an ornate walking stick, carved by Caduceus. Yasha had helped decorate it, picking out glass and metal beads and stringing them together. She had even threaded a few of her own feathers throughout the beads. Beau had always been fascinated by Yasha’s wings and had been ecstatic when Yasha thought to incorporate them. Yasha plucked the stick from the corner and turned, finding Beau already out of the bed and on wobbly legs. Yasha quickly reached for her and Beau gave her another wide grin. “I’m okay, Yash,” she said softly. “Really.” Yasha’s hand gently tightened on Beau’s hip, helping to steady her. “I know, baby. Here’s your staff.” “Thanks,” Beau said as she took the staff. She looked around, blinking quickly as her brow knitted together. Yasha knew Beau was merely trying to focus her eyes. “All the kiddos in bed, then?” Yasha’s smile faltered a bit but she managed to slip something like a grin in its place when Beau looked back to her. Their children were long since grown, and had families of their own to boot. Some of Beau and Yasha’s grandchildren were near adult age. “They’re all tucked in,” Yasha said softly. “It’s just you and me.” Beau smiled and leaned close to Yasha, who bent down and met her for a soft kiss. When they pulled apart, Yasha rested her head against Beau’s. “Ready?” “Ready,” Beau whispered back. She tossed her walking stick onto the bed, like Yasha knew she would, and stepped closer to Yasha. Yasha bent and cradled Beau in her arms. Beau had always been tiny, to Yasha anyway, but Yasha couldn’t help but notice that Beau seemed even smaller. Yasha wasn’t the juggernaut she once was, charging into battle with rage flaming in her eyes, and a 6 ft long sword in her hands. But even she knew Beau shouldn’t have been this little. Yasha walked to the open window with her wife in her arms. The sun had finally set and the stars twinkled in the dark sky. She placed one foot on the ledge of the specially made window then lunged from it, and her wings burst from her back in warm, golden light. They were well over the village in just moments. The cottage lights twinkled beneath them like the stars above, and when Beau snuggled closer to her, Yasha’s arms tightened around her. “I’ve missed this,” Beau said, her voice soft despite having to raise it for the wind rushing past. “It’s been far too long since we took this trip.” Yasha agreed, but said nothing. Instead her dual colored eyes fell to Beau, who slowly turned to look back at her. “You’re beautiful,” Beau said softly again. She brushed her fingers through Yasha’s short hair, always wild despite its length. Beau leaned forward, her forehead resting against Yasha’s jaw. “I’ll miss you.” Yasha’s eyes closed, burning. She pressed against Beau, feeling hot trails running down her cheeks. She wasn’t ready. Sixty years wasn’t enough. A millennia wouldn’t be enough time. It wasn’t fair and a bit cruel that Yasha would outlive another wife, another partner. Yasha felt Beau’s arms wrap tightly about her head, cradling her. Then she heard it, a soft song in Beau’s distinct gruff voice. It was a Celestial song Yasha sang to their children at bedtime or when they were afraid. To hear Beau sing it now, caused Yasha to begin sobbing, her shoulders shaking with the mournful tremors. She buried her face lower on Beau’s shoulder, and Beau held her as best she could. “It’ll be okay, Angel,” Beau said quietly. She was more lucid than Yasha had seen her in months, sounding almost like her old self. “You will be okay.” Yasha shook her head. How could Beau possibly know she’d be okay? Who would Yasha cook for now? Who would she clean for? Their children were grown and had moved to far away cities and towns. Who would she take care of? Who would take care of her? “You will,” Beau said softly. Almost too softly. Yasha nearly missed it with the wind. “You’ll be fine.” Beau cupped Yasha’s face and applied gentle pressure so Yasha would look up at her. “And I’ll be waiting for you.” Before Yasha could respond, Beau pressed her lips to Yasha’s. It was soft, gentle. A simple meeting of lips. When they broke apart, Beau rested her head on Yasha’s shoulder with a soft sigh. After a moment, Yasha felt Beau’s tight embrace slacken. With a shuddery sigh, Yasha looked beneath them and found a small outcrop. Yasha gently landed, tucking her wings against her back. Still cradling Beau, Yasha knelt on one knee, and propped her wife  on her thigh. Yasha held her breath, and listened. But there was nothing to be heard from the small body in her arms. There was no puff of exhaled air on her skin. And just like that, the world was suddenly a lesser place. “I love you,” Yasha whispered softly before  pressing her lips against Beau’s temple. “I promise I won’t be too long.” *** And between now and then Until I see you again I’ll be loving you. Love, Me ***

#beauyashaweek2023 #beauyashaweek #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #beauyasha #major character death #day 7: free day

[purelyfiction]

After math to Attitude Adjustment with Mav and Jinx, please!!!

Alright, alright I am nowhere near done with this story and it's been a minute since I've written for it, I'll admit. But this did prompt me to keep writing. So here's the next 500 or so words. ;)

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

Six Weeks Before….

You’d heard the countless inevitable whispers. That came with being thrown into the mission training four days into the timeline. Being the youngest chosen for this assignment was really the last thing on your mind.

At least it had been before you’d arrived at North Island. You were fresh off the heels of a promotion and a recent graduate of TOPGUN. Which meant you’d been away from Miramar all of a month before you’d ended up right where you were.

Warlock had sat you down to explain that your late entry to the mission was not a reflection of your performance in the past and simply an oversight that the Navy wasn’t entirely willing to admit to. That meeting had informed you that your former instructor had fought to bring you back when he’d caught wind of the mission. Asked for you by name, and had laid out all your achievements you’d reached while at TOPGUN. It was genuinely an honor for you to even be considered but: Rear Admiral Beau Simpson had convinced them.

Which is why you’re sitting in a chair at the back of a lecture room that continues to fill with aviators. You watch as you are shot looks - confused ones, strange ones, bitter ones, flirty ones - the guy with an ego bursting at the seams of his flight suit keeps stealing glances as Cyclone enters the room. The sound of leather shifting in the armchairs fills the room as pilots stand to greet the higher ranking officer.

“You can all sit down - except for you.” Simpson catches your eye and suddenly you’re the only aviator standing out of 13. “I’m sure that you have all noticed that you have another pair of wings in the room.” He begins down the aisle, toward your direction, leaving squad members to turn in their seats to look back in your direction. “While a later addition to this team - she is still that - a part of your team. A single pilot, and the top of her Spring 2020 class, meet your new teammate. Callsign, Jinx.”

“Oh, that’s encouraging.” One of the brunettes from the back speaks up and the woman up front clears her throat.

“You’re one to speak Hangman.”

“That’s enough.” Another voice clears into the room, grabbing your attention. Your eyes flit to the body the voice comes from, greeting you with dark hair, dair eyes and a dastardly smile. “We’re excited to have you Jinx. You can be seated. Thank you, Rear Admiral.”

Part of you thinks that his gaze is lingering. That he’s still watching you as you slink down into your chair again. As Simpson leaves, this man launches directly onto the lesson and you have to clear your throat. He gives you a side glance as he is now facing the screen.

“Do you need to step out for some water, Lieutenant?” He asks and you nervously shake your head.

“No, no I just… I didn’t catch your name. Sir.”

He lets a chuckle pass his lips.

“Captain Pete Mitchell. Maverick, if you’d like.”

This time, you know his gaze lingers. Only because your own does. Instead of watching the screen, or listening to the words that Maverick is instructing you on, it’s following the way his flight suit hugs his biceps as he points out the path that you’d be flying.

Focus for fucks sake.

It’s now that you realize everyone’s looking at you.

“S-sorry, can you repeat the question?” You fumble it out, and Pete gives you a look.

“What’s the ceiling for this run, Jinx?” He crosses his arms, watching you intently. You know this number, only because Warlock sent you the paperwork so you could catch up to speed to the other members on the team.

“One hundred feet. Sir.” You watch as his irises seem to make a path as he looks you over once, before nodding.

“Eyes and ears open, pilot.”

[intcritus]

a possessive kiss in front of a jealous third party. // Akku @ Bibi

when traversing industry get togethers, it's not as if bijin didn't make acquaintances with co-workers. networking came easy, even if she didn't have any real attachment to any of these people. one guy though, he was simply someone who had tried and failed time and time again to get close to bijin, despite the fact that she didn't date the people in her industry. ikari, she forgets his last name ( on purpose just to be petty ), approaches her the second akku goes to get her something else to munch on. part of her is grateful he agreed to come on this cruise, if only because he could possibly disappear in the water at any time. oh, how she wishes to do the same.

❝ ━ ikari...what a pleasant surprise. i thought you'd have been busy this weekend, ❞ a droll look is given to the bleach-blonde male, refraining from rolling her eyes at his sly smile.

❝ ━ where's your beau ? surely he didn't leave you alone ? if you were mi--❞

a cluck at impertinent words, blue eyes burning, ❝ ━ but i'm not yours. i'm akku's, and your envy for another man's woman has gotten out of hand, hm ? ❞ and envy was too strong a word for the way ikari has begun to lust after her even further after learning of her openly dating akku. they'd been splashed over tabloids, holding hands, sharing food, kissing ( what wonderful kisses, indeed) and some people just couldn't handle never having a chance in the first place.

❝ ━ where did he even come from ? you keep everything private and all of a sudden, he whisks you into the line of the camera ? you never even bothered to give me a chance. ❞ she can see him getting worked up into a tizzy, which shouldn't make her want to laugh, but it did. and before she can even bother to retort, a plate is shoved into ikari's hands then an arm is slipping around her waist, pulling her against akku's chest, mouth slipping over her own.

gods, there's nothing like akku's kiss. he tasted like the sea; comforting, dangerous, addictive. arms slip around his shoulders, body pressing against his as he devours her mouth with his kiss, fingers spearing into her hair as he licks into her mouth. she completely forgets about ikari, the other guest. all bijin can focus on is the possessive kiss being bestowed on her, on the hands glancing over her hips, the lush glide of his tongue over hers. goosebumps erupt along her flesh, fingers finding their way into his hair, a small, pleased sound in the back of her throat.

ikari makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat, eyes burning and his chest hot. he can't stand to watch and stalks off, hating that bijin would probably never be his. fuck the both of them !

pulling back, bijin hums in content, tongue licking over her lips. bright blue eyes are glazed over, her smile slack with amusement. she wasn't one to make anyone jealous or possessive, and yet if he kissed her like that everytime ? oh, she was melting. giggling, she hides her face in his chest, arms slipping down to hug his waist. what a stud.

#( ghostwriting actress ic. ) #akku. ╱ » of all the things my hands have held you are the best. #nvrcmplt #👑ˑ » ( answered. ) ᶜʰᵒᵒˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉᶰ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵘᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉˑ

[bougiebutchbitch]

Me, drawing more Nonsense for THIS FIC (E-rated)? More likely than you think.

Anyway, have that forehead-bonk from Chapter 4 that lives in my head rent-free - aka, how to deal with the aftermath of your girlfriend’s Villain Arc. It’s mostly an excuse for me to draw Beau with her hair down again 😍

quick doodle alert; please excuse dodgier-than-usual anatomy

#beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha nydoorin #critical role #mighty nein #critical role beau #critical role yasha #yashregard #cracklepop #my art #fanart #critical role fanart #welcome to my TEDTalk: the big buff shy one bottoms #yeaaaah the poses aren't how I wrote them but :SHRUG: #the perspective on the background is ALL WRONG #one day I swear I will crank out a piece with a proper background but TODAY IS NOT THAT DAY #NO SIR SATAN #please just focus on Beau With Her Hair Down #because... :swoons: ma'am please

[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

Would it be to much to ask for a Eren scenario where both he and the reader are both equally toxic, manipulative and possessive over eachother but both just cannot let the other go to the point where even when they reunite when Eren escapes the survey corps he asks her to tell him if anyone else whether it was the army or the jeagerists, if they had touched her even if it was just to escort her which she just nods and refuses to tell him any names cuz she likes to see him riled up by her having been "corrupted" and seeing how with a single act she can have him on edge and he falls for her even more by her devious and selfish wiles to have him get irritated and angry but only to end up wanting more of her charms.

Just some good dark angtsy feels all around🖤

A/N: just a little drabble. i've never done canon-verse stuff for AOT so this was fun to try. thank you sending this ask. i did deviate from your ending a little bit so im sorry <3

Warning: AoT Season 4 Spoilers, extreme possessive behavior, toxic relationship, anger issues, gaslighting/manipulating

Eren can feel himself getting restless. Hange had been getting on his nerves. He was the literally the only reason they had secured their victory against Marley on multiple fronts. She and the rest of the fucking Survey Corps should be bending over backward in gratitude.

He cracks his knuckles although he had no need to, wanting to focus on a physical sensation. His thoughts eventually circle back to you. He misses you sorely.

In Marley, there was this kind child Falco. Eren could say he felt guilty for manipulating the poor boy. But that's not true. He's shed that part of humanity a long time ago. All's fair in war after all.

The fair-haired boy was worried about his friend, didn't want a certain special someone of his to become titanized.

Is this other candidate a girl?

Eren had asked. Because he could relate to the Marelyan child. There was a girl he was trying to protect too, who he'd raise hell over, who he'd destroy the world for.

The dark-haired boy can feel himself grow restless. There are a million things to do. Coups to start. Militia to gather. A brother to manipulate. A world to ruin.

But first, he needs to see you. It's already been so long. He had barked orders to Floch to make sure you were safe and secure. If any hair off your pretty little head was misplaced-well no one wants to witness the rage of the Founding Titan's holder.

CRASH

The ground shakes. Eren closes his eyes and lets the Warhammer titan's power course through his veins. Foolish to think any prison could ever hold him.

He's walking uphill. The sunset bathes the land in vibrant pinks, oranges, and light violets. There is a crowd of people standing tall and at attention, postures rigid, save for one.

You hurl towards him at the speed of light and twice the fury, wrapping your arms around his neck. If Eren wasn't six feet of hard muscle, he would have been knocked off his feet from the vigor of your crushing embrace.

"Eren!" You cry out.

The attack titan vessel is too shocked to respond. He's been anticipating your presence for the longest but to finally feel you in the flesh and to smell your soft pretty scent was sending him into overdrive. He couldn't believe you were tangible and not some hauntingly beautiful apparition.

He wraps his arms around you, enveloping your body in his warmth, and you rest your head in the crook of his neck. He feels your nimble fingers toying with his hair.

"I like this new look. It suits you." You mummer.

"Like me without a shirt too?" Eren teases.

He forgot how easy it was to be himself around you, to joke and laugh like he wasn't planning a global genocide of epic proportions. No, even that's an understatement. His goal was an omnicide, utter annihilation. Only Paradis will be left after the ashes settle. A Paradis with you.

"What are you thinking about?" You ask, eyes wide with an untouched innocence that Eren doesn't know how you still possess. All of that eager wide-eyed optimism had been snuffed out from all of his friends. From him. But you, you don't change like the seasons or winds. You're you.

And that was going to be his ruin.

After the Yeagerists brief him on what happened with Zackley and Zeke Yeager's possible whereabouts, Eren gives into his overwhelming urges to see you.

He approaches your chambers, trying to conceal his impatience with soft knocks. You don't answer which irritates him, so he knocks louder and louder, the sound of his fist banging against the door sounding like thunderclaps.

Where the fuck are you? Were you with someone right now? He knew you were getting a little too friendly with Floch from the way you guys were talking at dinner. It was so obvious. He's been gone, for what, a few months and you're already whor-

The door opens and exposes a sleepy-looking girl whose rubbing one of her eyes. Admittedly, very adorable.

"Eren" Your voice is saccharine, "Do you need anything?"

He lets himself in, and shuts the door behind him, locking it in place.

"I don't usually lock the door," You pout but there's a playfulness in your expression that Eren would have noticed had he not been consumed by rage.

"What? So you let anyone in?" He asks, nearly snarling out the words. as he stares scandalized at your slip of a nightgown. A pale translucent pink that reached the middle of your thighs. He could even make the outline of your nipples poking through.

"No, silly." You giggle, twirling the hem of your dress, "Floch's security measure." You pretended not to notice how Eren's fist clenches.

"Is that so?" Eren said, words spoken between gritted teeth. As long as Eren was here, there need be no concerns over security measures. But he knew Floch. The ginger worshipped the ground Eren walked on and would never make a move on you if he cared about his limbs staying intact.

You sat down on your bed and Eren couldn't help but watch your skimpy dress ride up your creamy thighs.

He stood over you, his form looming over yours as you sat on your bed, feet swinging above the ground.

"I wanted to ask you something."

You look up with those big childlike eyes, "Okay."

"Did. Anyone. Touch. You?" His voice is low and he punctuates each word slowly.

You blink "What do you mean?” But there’s a coy smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Quit playing dumb." He growls, anger evident in the crease between his eyebrows.

You're quiet for a still moment, mouth opening and closing. Eren's anxiety increases more each second and it finally boils over when you softly ask, "What kind of touch?"

Like a chess piece topping over, he shoves you down the bed, pinning your wrists with his strong hands.

Usually, Eren was smarter. Quicker to call you on your tricks. But alas, absence makes the heart fonder. You love making him lose his stoic composure, so lost in his lust and desire for you that all he can see crimson. And if the price for that is to play the fragile maiden, it is what it is.

"Ow." You pitifully whine, lightly shaking your right hand. Eren knew he wasn't holding you too hard so he experimentally thumbs over a certain spot on your right wrist, eliciting another small whimper. He brings your wrist closer to him and finds a purple bruise.

"Who touched you? Was is it any of the yeagerists?" His voice is deadly calm but an ice-cold rage simmers in his eyes. You can feel yourself growing excited, heat pooling in the bottom of your stomach. You’re rubbing your legs together for the friction but Eren assumes it a nervous tic to avoid answering any of his questions.

When you avert your gaze and simply look the side, he delicately cradles your cheek: “Was it the scouts?”

The delicate touch turns harsher when you don't respond, forcing your pretty head to look straight at him. He sees your eyes glistening, and when he looks into your dewy irises, he can see himself.

His voice drops a pitch, "Please tell me."

Your breathing is shallower and you can't help but enjoy this so much.

It's been so long since you've seen him-since you begged him not to go but he went anyway, and having him here right now--the pride and joy of the Eldian empire , the holder of the Founding Titan-unravel in your fingertips, well this was the closest to true power you've ever been.

Eren can feel his patience sleeping, anger seeping into his bones at your silence, and the bruise on your delicate wrist only serves to anger him further. He can't even do what he swore to do and that was to keep you safe.

"Are you not telling me who it is because you're protecting them?"

The words are delivered deadly calm with the tension of a brewing storm behind it. You're nervous, exactly aware of what your beau is capable of, but the excited kind of nervous where butterflies are swarming in your stomach.

Maybe you underestimated his anger because within a second, the telltale red lines start to form under his eyes, lightning bright sparks forming between each breath.

Without thinking, you envelop the back of his head with one arm (the other hand rendered useless bu the force of his hold), trying to bring his head into the softness your breasts.

Understanding your gesture, Eren immediately calms down and lets himself be smothered in your chest like a babe being cradled in his mother's warmth.

"There, there" you coo, words soft and melodious on your tongue.

You can feel wet-spots on your nightie, "Eren...are you-" you begin, not sure when to end.

His voice is tightly controlled as if not let his coiled emotions fuse again, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was about to hurt you." He sounds so broken, and all you can do is stroke his hair.

You press a kiss to his head. You know what the right words to say are. You should be comforting him and assuring him he could never hurt you.

Instead you stay silent, softly exhaling. He can't see the pleased smile on your face.

*

"Your wrist feeling any better?"

You whip up your head to see Floch whose peering down at you in slight concern. You must have looked confused because he elaborated, "The one you accidentally banged against the doorway. Looked like it hurt."

"Oh." You pause, looking down at the fresh set of finger shaper marks overtaking the fading violet.

You laugh airily, "Yeah it's alright."

#toxic eren #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x reader fanfiction #eren yeager x toxic reader #manipulative eren #tw manipulation #tw yelling #tw gaslighting #attack on titan fanfiction #eren yeager x y/n

[beauregardlionett]

hold on, dear (don’t let go)

AO3 Link

Yasha swept through the halls with all the imposing threat of a rolling storm.

Her footsteps echoed off the walls with sharp purpose, monks cowering away from her path and rage bright eyes. No one bothered to stand in her way or stop her. Almost everyone knew why she was there, anyway.

For all her long, threatening strides, Yasha would look soft and sweet if not for the focused determination furrowing her brow. She was in her gardening dress, a deep grey frock with a full skirt and a blue scarf wrapped around her waist. Her long white hair was braided and wound into a low bun, flyaways curling around her cheekbones. She had an endearing smudge of dirt on her cheek that looked like war paint against her stony expression.

That she looked threatening at all fresh from the garden was a testament to her rage.

Dairon was the only one who dared to approach Yasha, unfazed.

“Where is she?”

Dairon pointed down the hall they had only just exited. “Third door on the right. She’s awake.”

Yasha barely let Dairon finish speaking before she was brushing past them and all but sprinting down the hall.

Beau looked up as Yasha threw the door open. Her left eye was swollen halfway shut, right arm cradled against her stomach like it still ached. The cuffs of her pants were rucked up to just below her knees, one ankle wrapped and the other leg bandaged to just below the knee. Bruises patterned whatever skin was visible. Each new bruise heightened the rage kindling to life in Yasha’s chest.

She was perched on the edge of Beau’s bed in an instant, hands gentle against a bruised jawline. Yasha’s mismatched eyes were smoldering as she swept another look over Beau.

“Who did this?”

“They didn’t tell you?” Beau’s voice was rough, hoarse. Yasha didn’t let herself think too deeply about why.

“I stopped listening after I got the message you were hurt.”

Beau huffed a painful laugh, blue eyes wide on Yasha’s face. “You’re incredible. I love you so much.”

Yasha felt her features soften with the affection she had long ago decided not to mask for her wife.

“Nice try,” Yasha murmured, tucking Beau’s loose hair behind her ear. “I’m still upset.”

Beau shrugged painfully, smirking despite her state. “Worth a shot. If it helps, the others already took care of the culprits.”

Yasha cupped Beau’s cheek in her large palm, watching her wife wince and then relax under the rush of healing energy she poured out. The swelling and bruising on Beau’s eye faded rapidly, some of the shallow gashes and smaller bruises healing, too. Beau blinked a few times as her vision came into focus, grin stretching the shallow, mostly healed split on her lip.

“Thanks, babe,” Beau crooned. “You make me feel so warm.”

“Shush,” Yasha mumbled fondly, stroking her thumb back and forth over Beau’s cheekbone. She hesitated for only a moment before ducking in to press a firm kiss against Beau’s mouth. The snarling rage in Yasha’s chest was mollified by the proximity and assured safety of her wife.

Beau made a soft noise of surprise before curling the fingers of her uninjured hand in the sleeve of Yasha’s dress. Yasha let the kiss last for a few moments before she pulled back to leave a kiss on Beau’s nose. She then proceeded to pepper kisses over every place she remember a gash or bruise being, working her way down to Beau’s neck. Beau tipped her head back against the headboard of the bed, making a quiet sound in the back of her throat. Yasha lavished attention to Beau’s clavicle, giddy with tremulous relief.

Someone cleared their throat in the doorway.

Beau startled and then winced at the motion. Yasha merely turned her head and glared over her shoulder. She only softened upon realizing it was Dairon, looking remarkably unimpressed at the threshold.

“Please,” Dairon said, voice monotonous. “Take Beau home.”

“With pleasure,” Yasha said. Once upon a time, she might have been embarrassed at this entire situation. But she had held in her public affections for Zuala and ended up regretting it - she would not make the same mistake with Beau. No matter how awkward it might be, Yasha refused to feel ashamed.

“What about - woah!” Yasha cut off Beau’s inability to relax by scooping her up in her arms, smiling cheerfully down at her stunned wife.

“You can worry about paperwork and statements in the morning,” Dairon said, beating Yasha to the punch. If Yasha didn’t know any better, she might say that Dairon looked amused. “For now, rest up.”

Yasha started to carry Beau out of the room, fully intending on transporting her wife like this through the entire Reserve. Dairon placed a hand in their path before Yasha could exit, though. Their gaze was level and stern when Yasha glanced down in question.

“I’m serious. Make sure Beau actually gets some rest.”

The implication was not lost on either of them. Beau’s ears turned pink and she buried her face in her hands, groaning Dairon’s name in embarrassment. Yasha bit her lip in an attempt to not laugh out loud and nodded her reassurance to Beau’s mentor.

“Promise.”

Dairon let them go with a long-suffering sigh.

The sound was repeated when Beau showed up at the Reserve the next morning looking refreshed but sporting several mouth shaped bruises on her neck.

#cr #critical role #beauregard lionett #yasha #beauyasha #writing #my writing

[taeescript]

29+1 (Part One)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother. 

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard) 

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)

𝔴𝔠: 3.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?). 

𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts.  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive. 

part two

Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something. 

In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?

So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down. 

You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say). 

“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?” 

An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects. 

“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger. “Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle? “Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!” You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.

“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.

The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made. 

“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”

Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.

Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”

Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.

“Enough about me, however, how about you?”

“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”

You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.  

“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.

And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…

“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”

Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.

“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”

“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”

You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”

“What are you doing there?”

Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”

“Or sleeping!” someone quips.

You don’t join in when they all laugh.

“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.

A hushed silence befalls everyone.

“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”

His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”

Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.

She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”

Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.

Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.

Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.

Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.

“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.

And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.

The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.

He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.  

“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”  

                                                            - Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.

Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.

He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”

The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.

“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”

Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.

He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.

“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.

You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.

“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”

He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.

Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.

Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.

“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.  

The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.

Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.

“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”

Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”

You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.

“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.

Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”

You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.

Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.

A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.

“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.

As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.

“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.

Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”

“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.

“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

“Want me to come visit you?”

You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.

“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”

“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”

There is a pause.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”

You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”

“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”

Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. “Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”

He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.

The child is crying much louder now.

“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”

There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”

“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.

With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.

Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.

He knew he had given you an impossible task.

“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”

There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.

The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.

“Mr. Kim.”

His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.

Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.

“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”

Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.

“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.

His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”

So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.

“Sir?”

“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.

Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”

“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”

“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.

“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”

There is no response.

“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”

“Ah,” she says.

He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”

There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.

“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.

Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.

“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”

Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”

“Two.”

“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”

This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.

“What?”

“Put your name on Google.”

Seokjin does as he is told.

There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.

“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”

A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy. “The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.” “You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs. Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.” Seokjin inhales deeply. “You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.” “That is?” “The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event. The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours. “The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ” “Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts. “Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade. “Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call. Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin. “Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.

#bts fanfic #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #bts jin #bts seokjin #seokjin fanfic #bts imagine #bts scenario #seokjin imagine #seokjin scenario #ceo!seokjin #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts x reader #bts fluff #seokjin fluff #taehyung #jimin #hoseok #jungkook #yoongi #namjoon #fluff

[emmyhem]

always (l.r.h) part two

a/n: hi everybody! here is always part two, this is actually one of my favorite writings and one that I was looking forward to writing and posting a lot. it’s another angsty piece but with a sappy happy ending :) also it’s unedited but what else is new. i’ll probably post again tomorrow either a bestfriend!calum piece or a roomate!luke piece that are titled in my masterlist. i hope everyone enjoys and is having a wonderful day. i definitely am after that livestream today. (i would say that i didn’t cry because of how good and happy they all looked but that would be a lie) anyway i hope you enjoy and as always my messages are always open to chat or whatever and feedback and comments are always appreciated. thank you - emmy <33

pairing: luke hemmings x fem!reader 

summary: it’s time for you decide whether or not luke’s mistake is worth losing the love of your life. 

warning(s): mentions of alcohol, cursing, angst (but with a happy ending), self doubt, insecurity, mention of throwing up 

word count: 2.9k

pt. 1

The longer you watched the window the more you were convinced mother nature was taunting you. The rain droplets that cascaded down the glass mirroring the tears that hadn’t stopped falling since you left Luke speechless in the driveway. It had to be for your benefit, I mean it was Los Angeles. California was in a drought for god’s sake. 

Despite the fact that nature was mocking you, you couldn’t dare pull your eyes away. The alternative was to face the endless voicemails waiting for you on your phone that glowed dimly beside you. You knew you would have to hear them eventually but right now you knew that even a breath, let alone full sentences from Luke would break you in every sense of the word. You feared the sound almost as much as the content behind it.

 You weren’t ready to be okay, you needed to wallow in your pain for a bit longer. As bad as that sounds you knew it was the only way you could convince yourself to let him back in, to forgive him. It was also the only way you could forgive yourself. Your body needed to feel how tortured you were without him, how much you needed his affection, his love, and him. Not his money. 

Part of you knew deep down that Luke didn’t mean what he said, the part that awakened the butterflies that had taken permanent residence in your stomach since he had entered your life. The part that caused all your senses to align when Luke kissed you the night you finally understood what it meant to love someone with everything you have. The same part that was clawing at your heart right now as your mind replayed the look of pure devastation that was painted on Luke’s pretty features as you drove away from him. That part was itching for you to run to him, to cuddle into his embrace and say “I forgive you. I’ll never leave you again. Love me?” 

But, it was the other part of you that was causing the problems right now, the part that snuck up on you each time you felt secure in yourself and tore it all down in seconds. The part that told you there was no way you were good enough for your boyfriend when you stared at your reflection in the mirror for even a second too long. The part that Luke was typically the one to silence when it overwhelmed you in a crowded room, with just a tender kiss to the forehead, or squeeze of your hand. The same part that constantly craved for Luke to be proud of you the way you were of him in anything he decided to pursue. That part was completely shattered last week when, whether intentionally or not he showed you that not only was he not proud, but also felt burdened by your lack of brilliance. 

“Y/n,” your friend called, breaking you from your self-loathing thoughts as she approached your brittle body, enveloped in every single fuzzy blanket you could get your hands on. 

“Hi.” you croaked, pulling your stinging eyes from where they had settled on a particularly large rain droplet that had stolen your interest as you wondered how much more water it could withstand before it burst from its flawless embodiment and shattered to the sill below. You wondered the same about Luke, how much more of your insecurity and emotional baggage would it take for him to burst. How much more of your mediocrity could he compensate for before you began to strip him of his excellence? 

“Have you talked to him yet?” she inquired, eyes going soft as she looked at you with sympathy. 

“No.” you groaned, pulling yourself up. “Do I have to?” 

She shook her head, dismissing you. “You know that you’re welcome here as long as you want, but anyone could tell that you’re completely miserable without him, even if he is being an epic prick.” 

You sniffled and wrapped your arms around your best friend.

“Am I an idiot for wanting to forgive him?” you spoke into her hair. 

She returned the embrace and settled next to you in the bed, “I think if he really is sorry then you’re incredibly strong for it. And you’re never an idiot, that would be your blonde haired beau.” 

You laughed softly at her innocent dig, the giggle catching slightly in your throat as it had only been releasing pathetic pleas, and broken sobs for the past few days. 

Y/f/n handed you your phone, the photo of Luke and Petunia sitting by the pool being almost completely covered by all the missed call notifications that had taken over your lock screen. 

“I think you should at least hear what he has to say babe, for your sake if not for his.” 

You let out a heavy sigh and accepted the phone, wrapping your favorite blanket around your shoulders and dragging your feet to the bathroom for some privacy. 

You took a seat in the empty bathtub throwing the blanket across your body. You reasoned it was the perfect place to listen to the messages because as soon as Luke’s voice flooded the room you would be completely submerged in him and you didn’t trust your legs to hold you up. 

You clicked the most recent voicemail, time stamped from 1:28 am last night. As you selected the speaker option you allowed your eyes to fall closed and without noticing or trying you held your breath. 

“Y/n,” 

Only one word in you could immediately tell two things without a trace of doubt. One, he’d been crying, and two he was drunk. If you had to guess you would say tequila, it had always been his favorite and he had a bad habit of nursing his wounds in the liquor cabinet. It shattered your heart to think of him broken, and vulnerable and as he continued to speak you found yourself wrapping your arms around your body for comfort. 

“I miss you and I’m sorry. I-” his voice cut off as a sob played through your phone. You released a matching one while squeezing  your eyes tighter, a shaky hand bringing your phone closer as if it would bring him as well. 

As he continued, your mind began to paint a vivid picture. You saw him sitting on the kitchen floor, an old ratty sweatshirt struggling to keep him warm, damp tear stains spoiling the sleeves. There was a half empty bottle to his side and the tip of his nose was red as it peeked out from the hood. You shook your head in an attempt to rid yourself of the image that felt like your personal nightmare.

“I-I can’t live without you, really I don’t think I can. I need you and I love you. I love you so much. Just please come home to me, please baby.” he spoke through gasps of breath that caused worry to spread across your body.

You paused the message as a dull ache creeped up from the bottom of your stomach and to your throat which was tightening by the second. You tossed your phone onto the blanket which you had kicked off as your body heated up, and sprung out of the tub landing firmly in front of the toilet. Gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail in your hand you hunched over and retched into the bowl. Y/f/n burst through the door as you gagged and coughed repeatedly, she took your hair from you and rubbed soothing circles on your back as you tried to focus your breathing through your nose. This wasn’t the first time you had cried yourself into throwing up during your stay so she knew what to do to calm you down and settle your stomach. 

As you finished the glass of water she had poured from the sink while you brushed your teeth she held your car keys out to you. 

“Please go see him. I can’t see you like this anymore.” 

You nodded accepting the keys reluctantly and made your way to your car.

 Once outside you noted that the rain had started coming down harder, it seemed fitting as your situation reached its climax. By the time you got into the car your hair was wet and stringy, dripping onto Luke’s shirt that you had been wearing since the night you left. You quickly tied it back and drove away, hoping the sound of the rain could calm your nerves before you got back to your house. 

When you got there the sun was setting and the rain was still falling steadily, you grabbed a jacket from the back seat and held it over your head as you ran to the house. The jacket didn’t give you much protection from the water and you were soaked by the time you reached the door. Taking one big breath, in through your nose, and out from your mouth as you had been repeating the whole ride there, you raised your quivering hand and knocked three times. 

Expecting it to take a few minutes for him to reach the door you were shocked when it swung open in just a few seconds. Your heart sunk as you took in Luke’s appearance, although you were sure you looked just as bad if not worse. Deep dark circles sat beneath his bloodshot eyes, his stubble had grown in a bit longer than he typically liked it and his lips were chapped and bitten down. Guilt panged in your chest, how awful of a girlfriend were you to let it get to this point? The thought made you question if he would even want you here. 

Apparently the time apart had completely fucked with your ability to read Luke’s face because even frozen in shock, his eyes began to fade into that special soft color of blue they only got to around you. He felt as if a giant weight had been lifted from his chest and just as it had been since the moment you left the only word running through his head was “y/n.” 

He didn’t see your messy, wet hair or the ratty tshirt that swallowed your figure. He didn’t see your eyes puffy from crying or your bitten down nails that you were bringing back up to your mouth in that moment as your nerves got the best of you. All he saw was y/n. His y/n. You came home to him and as far as he was concerned you looked like an angel. Warm, sweet, and perfect. So fucking perfect. 

Your eyes ran over his face anxiously, waiting for him to say something, or invite you in, or even slam the door in your face. Anything. After a minute of silence you gathered up the courage to speak first. 

“Sorry I never called you bac-'' your words were knocked from your mouth when Luke took a step forward and wrapped you up into the tightest hug you’d ever experienced. Your limbs fit together perfectly, and the second your bodies met you felt recharged, as if everything was in place once again. And Luke felt like for the first time in a week he could breathe. 

“I don’t deserve you.” he sighed as you pressed your nose into his chest deeply breathing in the smell you could only describe as home. “Thank you for coming back to me, I don’t work without you.” 

From your position in his arms you could see the mess splayed on the floor behind him. It was just as you had pictured it earlier, a thin blanket and scratchy throw pillow were scattered on the floor in front of the sink, a bottle lying on it’s side just next to them. Guilt inched up your spine when your eyes made contact with a framed picture of the two of you on top of the blanket. 

“I’m sorry.” you sobbed into his chest, your hands clawing at the material of his sweatshirt. 

He pulled back quickly, keeping his hands on either sides of your waist, “No baby, why’re you sorry. This is all my fault, I was awful. You...you’re perfect.” he pressed as you shook your head in distress, unable to stop your tears. 

“N-no I stayed away for so long, even when I knew I wa-wanted to forgive you. I was embarrassed and...and selfish.” you struggled to speak over your tears while Luke looked down at you sad and confused. 

“What’re you talking about, love?” 

You sniffed and dropped your hands from Luke’s chest, “I j-just wanted you to be proud of me.” the end of your sentence was nearly lost in your sobs but Luke understood. And in that moment he regretted going into music instead of engineering, or science, or whatever would’ve helped him to invent  a time machine so he could go back and beat the shit out of whoever or whatever had possessed him last week. 

His hands moved to cup your cheeks, his thumb tracing lightly over your bottom lip. 

“I am proud of you baby.” 

He leaned in slowly, and hesitantly, almost as if he was testing the waters, like this was new. As if he hadn’t kissed you thousands of times before. You looked up at him through your lashes littered with unshed tears and nodded your head slowly. He still had so much left to say, you still had so much left to say but you both had been needing this for as long as you’d lost it. He pressed his lips to yours gently, afraid that even one wrong move and you would decide that you had made the wrong choice in coming back. He wouldn’t survive that, he couldn’t lose you twice. 

As he went to pull away you snaked a hand around the back of his neck pulling him back towards you. This time when your lips collided his body sagged into it, both arms wrapping around your back and lifting you up to the tips of your toes. Your eyes drifted shut and you reveled in the feeling of him pressed up against you like this. When the kiss broke you kept your faces close enough that your noses were touching, and opened your eyes to see Luke’s still closed, his eyebrows furrowed as he pressed his forehead to you. 

“You’re what I’m most proud of.” he exhaled, his eyelids still shut lightly. “My greatest achievement is getting you to love me and I can’t believe I almost blew it.” 

You brought a hand to his face and stroked his cheek lightly, the feeling of his overgrown stubble foreign to your fingers. 

“It would take a lot more to get rid of me.” you assured. “I think m’too in love with you.” 

He opened his eyes, locking them with your own, and spoke firmly but with a softness that was and would always be reserved for only you. 

“I want to make it clear that you do not in any way leech.” he dragged the last word out, laced in disgust as if it were hard for him to say. “I lucked out. I actually just seem to keep lucking out, my job, my life, and you.” He placed a hand across your jaw and tilted your chin up before continuing. “I completely lucked out with you. I have lots of money, more than I need actually and it makes me feel fucking incredible that I can take care of you. That’s all I wanna do for the rest of my life.” 

Your mouth broke into a smile hearing him verbally commit to a lifetime with you. 

“But, with that being said I know you don’t need me-” 

“I do need you.” you interrupted. 

Luke threw his head back at your words, a toothy grin overtaking his face before he pressed a chaste peck to your forehead. 

“Y’know what? You’re too fucking cute. I meant financially baby, m’trying to apologize here.” 

You nodded for him to continue, struggling to contain your own beaming smile. 

“Anything you decide to do occupationally or otherwise could never, ever let me down. You’re physically incapable of it. I’d be a lucky guy if you let me stick around for it all and I promise to never forget that again. I’m sorry I did in the first place.” he took a deep breath before finishing his rant. “M’only able to give you the world if you let me. Let me?” 

You answered his question by attaching your lips once again, desire and need radiating off of the place where your lips met. As your taste buds reacquainted themselves with Luke’s mouth you wondered how you had gone even a day without him. 

Luke felt like he was flying and he couldn’t wrap his head around how anyone in the world could live without, seeing you, knowing you, and kissing you. He also knew that he would do anything to ensure that he never had to go a day without you for the rest of his life. 

“How long does it take to get an engagement ring sized?” he wondered to himself. 

If he could’ve read your mind he would’ve seen white gowns, tiered cakes, and little blue eyed, curly haired monsters running amuck. 

“I want everything with you, the whole world.” you affirmed when you pulled apart for air. 

“Yea?” he responded. 

You hummed against his lips, “Always.” 

#5sos imagine #5sos imagines #luke 5sos #luke hemmings #luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings one shots #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings imagines #luke hemmings angst #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings x fem!reader #5sos angst #5sos one shots #5sos one shot #5sos fluff #5 seconds of summer #5sos masterlist #5 seconds of summer imagines #5sos #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings drabble #5sos blurbs

[rosesvioletshardy]

mr. perfectly fine - mat barzal

okay first ever fic for Mat and I really hope you all like it. sorry it took so long i've been busy with school and work and the only time i got to work on it was in the middle of the night and it's finally done. sorry that it’s really long i sort of got carried away with it and if it's really bad

i got the idea for the fic after Taylor released the song and i lowkey got some mat vibes on some of the lyrics 

(please note this is fiction and just like my nolan “all too well” fic, i don’t think that mat is like this as a person and would not be like this)

masterlist

mat masterlist

warnings: angst, fluff, mainly angst

# of words: 3,550

Being with Mat was something you never thought would happen. From the moment the two of you met the first time to where you currently were it felt like it was all just a dream. He would tell you stupid jokes that would always make you laugh, try to make you breakfast or dinner, if you were upset he’ll start singing off-key while holding you to make you give him a small smile. It wasn’t like that anymore. No more stupid jokes, attempted dinners or breakfast, and off-key singing.

Mr. "Perfect face"

Mr. "Here to stay"

Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

Everything was right

Mr. "I've been waitin' for you all my life"

Mr. "Every single day until the end, I will be by your side"

It was the morning. The morning after 1 year of being together. You had everything planned for a nice dinner, a walk back to the apartment before a night of activities. The sunlight was creeping into yours and Mat’s bedroom through the closed curtains as your eyes began to flicker open. Mat was still asleep, his hand lightly touching yours, mouth parted open a bit and his hair now messy as a piece of his face in his face. Everything about him just felt perfect and the moment felt perfect.

“I can feel you staring at me and it’s rude.” he mumbled in his sleep, feeling your eyes on him causing you to giggle as he pulled you in

“Well I’m sorry Mr. Perfect. You just have such a beautiful face, nice features I can’t help but stare.” you told him before giving him a kiss. Pulling away, the two of you stared at each other for a small moment. Nothing but silence between you two before you spoke up again

“What’s going through that head of yours? I can see the gears in your head tuning and overworking.” you said to him while rubbing his hand, trying to calm him down

“Nothing, just thinking about how much I love you. I know we’ve only been dating for a year, but I wanted you to know that I don’t think I could imagine myself anywhere else or with anyone else.” he said before continuing

“I promise you I will never go away. I’m going to be with you every single day, by your side, and how we’ll work out every single one of our problems when we run into them until we’re old and gray. I didn’t think I’d meet someone like you and I’ve waited for it to meet someone like you. I want to be with you until the end when we’re old and gray.” he said

When he said that you could help but kiss him. He wasn’t shocked to say the least but he returned the favor and kissed you back. Pulling away, your foreheads touching as he gave you one last peck. Everything in that moment felt right as he held you in silence

You knew that’s where you should’ve been cautious. Making promises that you can’t keep like the ones he made. The only promises he was capable of making that he fulfilled were protecting you when it came to feeling unsafe at times and coming back home from long roadies. You never suspected anything because you always thought everything would be alright, especially if he was out with Beau or any of his other friends but sometimes they never suspected anything either. You didn’t blame them seeing that you weren’t dating them or anything but it would’ve been nice for them to tell you what happened sometimes. Now you were thinking about everything all over again even though you promised yourself you wouldn’t give into any thoughts of him no matter what and tried to block it all off.

But that was when I got to know Mr. "Change of heart"

Mr. "Leaves me all alone, " I fall apart

It takes everything in me just to get up each day

But it's wonderful to see that you're okay

Your relationship with Mat was odd to say. You both understood that there were days that you needed to be alone even if you wanted to help each other. It was worse with Mat because he would hold everything back most of the time and not tell you what’s going on with him. The worst was when he would get up and leave. It felt like someone had just stabbed you and all you could do was just go lay down and think about every small thought that could make you cry.

Your friends have helped you get over him when you two broke it off, after allowing yourself to wallow and take time for yourself. The hardest was having to wake up in a bed alone without him holding you, his hand on your leg, or your head on his chest.

It’s been 2 weeks since he called it off. 2 weeks since you’ve seen his face that wasn’t on the tv. You knew you had to get over him sometime but every time you saw him or someone had mentioned him, your heart broke all over again. Anthony has tried calling you multiple times to see what happened and why Mat was in a mood during practices and games. You didn’t have the heart to tell him what happened seeing that it should be Mat who does so. You didn’t know whether or not it was worth watching the games and hockey entirely anymore. It annoyed Mat whenever the team and wags asked about you and why you weren’t going to any home games, or why you were never answering any messages they’ve sent. He would simply just ignore them or pretend that he didn’t hear.

“Hey so is Y/N coming to celebrate? We haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Yeah, we miss her.”

“Well she’s busy so you won’t be seeing her anytime soon” Mat finally snapped

Everyone stayed quiet after that and didn’t ask anymore questions as they left to go celebrate. You knew that they would be celebrating due to the fact that they’re one step closer to going to the playoffs. You haven’t done anything other than manage to hide the fact that you got your heart broken and have to force yourself to get out of your bed since those 2 weeks. Your friends have come and checked up on you but they knew that you needed space and will come out on your own.

Hello, Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breakin' mine?

Mr. "Always at the right place at the right time," baby

Hello, Mr. "Casually cruel"

Mr. "Everything revolves around you"

I've been Miss Misery since your goodbye

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

You’d never thought you’d run into him again, especially seeing and remembering his schedule all the time and the routes he takes. It wasn’t your fault you ran into him and it wasn’t his either. Mat had spotted you hiding in between the fruits and vegetables. You had no choice but to face him seeing that you didn’t want to cause a scene by running away and leaving everything. He still looked the same but his hair was a little longer and some stubble of his beard was growing in. Mat couldn’t help but smile at the way you looked. He always thought that you could be wearing a garbage bag and still look beautiful. There wasn’t any between the two of you other than the faint music playing from the speakers

“Hey.” he said with a smile

“Hi.” you answered, voice barely above a whisper and trying to avoid looking at him

“How have you been? It’s been awhile since what happened and I wanted to see how you were” mat asked knowing it was probably a stupid question seeing that he broke your heart

“I’ve been okay. You know always busy with school and work” lie

It wasn’t entirely a full lie seeing you’ve been doing your schoolwork and going but you haven’t been to work since those few weeks

“That’s good”

“How have you been? I heard about your recent win” you asked him wanting to change the subject and quickly finish the conversation

“I’m doing great, and yeah no one suspected that I’d make the goal but you know, guess I was lucky. Just really glad that Nelson was there with the assist to help me out before shooting” he chuckled a bit. He’s been shooting goals and living his dream while you drown in your own misery by listening to your depression playlists on repeat and going back into old habits. Mat could see that you were lying but he didn’t want to say anything. The most he could do was nod and smile knowing how much he hurt you

“That’s good. Always knew that you could make any shot no matter the situation. Always at the right place and the right time.” you smiled trying not to tear up knowing that he’s living his best life at the moment. He smiled back and was about to say something before you both got interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing

“It was nice seeing you again Mat. Hope you win the cup this year.” you tell him while giving a small smile before leaving

Mr. "Never told me why"

Mr. "Never had to see me cry"

Mr. "Insincere apology so he doesn't look like the bad guy"

He goes about his day

Forgets he ever even heard my name

Well, I thought you might be different than the rest, I guess you're all the same

Trying to wrap around everything that happened the day he broke up with you hurt but you had to figure out why he did it. The thing about Mat was that he sometimes would never tell you how he was feeling and you’d have to read off the signals he was giving from his body language and at times he was good at hiding those too. One moment you were getting ready to go out then next you’re at Julie’s crying into her shirt as she rubbed your back.

Taking days off where you just needed to focus on yourself were always needed. The entire day you wouldn’t use your phone, unless it was an emergency, and you would try to treat yourself to a good day. You’ve managed to go to the gym and workout not caring if people were staring at you, you went out for a nice lunch and decided to try something you’ve never had before. It was going well until during your lunch you saw him again. He was by himself and at his stuff with him which meant he must’ve come out of practice. He hasn’t changed much since the grocery store but this time you knew he had a girlfriend. Mat must’ve known you were staring at him because he looked up as soon as you got up to leave and waved you over to join him. It’s not like you hated him with a passion, it’s just you still didn’t feel comfortable or confident enough to ask him why he wanted to break things off.

“Hey Y/N, it’s good to see you again” Mat said with a smile as you sat down

“It’s good to see you too.” you said back to him trying to hide the fake smile

“So how’s everything” you asked him trying to make it less awkward

“Um, before we talk, I just wanted to apologize. I know I wasn’t the best boyfriend when we were together but I’m trying to change. Before you interrupt and say something, save it. I was wrong to hurt you like that”

You didn’t know what to say and sat there shocked. It was hard to tell whether or not he truly meant it due to his body language but you brushed it off and told him it was fine

“Mat, don’t worry you know. It happens. So what is going on? How’s hockey? I see pre-seasons about to start” “Yes it is and I know this season we’re going to make the playoffs and win the cup” He started as you began to zone off. You couldn’t help but realize that he was just like the rest of them; every other guy you’ve dated or even went on one date with.

Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl

I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her

And I never got past what you put me through

But it's wonderful to see that it never fazed you

Social media was sometimes cruel to you but it wasn’t their fault entirely that people decided to post about their personal lives on there. You haven’t really checked anything in a month thinking it was best to limit social media for your own mental health. Occasionally you would check for any news but otherwise it was for the best to delete them all. It was a good breather. No one has tried contacting you about any celebrity gossip that was happening. You knew your friends would post pictures of you (with your permission of course) but other than that, they completely respected your choice of not posting or liking anything.

You were currently out with some friends for lunch after a long week of being busy and needing a day to each other. They were telling you all about everything that’s going on in their life and were about to show you pictures from their siblings' wedding. When one of them handed you their phone, your finger hit the home button again and took you to the top of the timeline. As soon as it hit the top, you felt your heart stop and drop all the way down to your stomach. It was Mat with his arm around a girl as they both laughed and looked each other in the eyes. You knew he’d move on quickly but you didn’t know exactly when they got together. Julie was the first one to notice your face and took the phone from your hands to see what made you react the way you did. Everyone gathered around before looking back at you and giving you their sympathy. It wasn’t their fault that they still followed him on social media and you had no problem with it, it was what you heard ended up being true.

“Babe, i’m so-”

“No, it's fine. I mean he’s allowed to move on. People don't always move on at the same time and if that’s how quickly he moves on, then that’s okay. You know? I need to focus on myself. That means taking my time to heal whether it ends up being weeks, a month, or a year. I’m taking my own time to find myself. I’ve overheard him talking to someone from when I ran into him and Anthony but it’s nothing now.” you let out all in one breath as your friends sat there in silence as you handed them their phone back.

The rest of the lunch no one bothered to open their phone unless it was their work, family, etc. they kept glancing at you throughout the entire lunch to see if they were able to read your face and how you were really feeling but they couldn’t get anything. It did hurt to see him with someone new but as you said you need to pick up your heart. The thing was you couldn’t. You remembered everything from that night and at times it’ll haunt you in your dreams, everything feeling real and having to constantly relive your heartbreaking over and over again.

So dignified in your well-pressed suit

So strategized, all the eyes on you

Sashay your way to your seat

It's the best seat, in the best room

Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins"

So far above me in every sense

So far above feeling anything

As you came out of the hotel bathroom ready for the night, you saw Mat standing in the mirror fixing his tie. It was the night of the NHL awards where he was nominated for the Calder Rookie of the Year award. You stood there for a while admiring him as he caught your eyes in the mirror.

“You know, instead of standing there and admiring your hot boyfriend, you can help me fix this.”

“Who says I can’t do both?” you asked walking over to him and making sure that his tie was straightened and not crooked

“I’m proud of you. You deserve this award so much.”

“By the way, Tito is also coming but since he didn’t know if you agreed or not, he’s also my date.” he said holding your waist and pulling you in to kiss you to distract you

“Mmm okay. At this point I’m not shocked. Now c’mon, your family and your “date” are waiting for you in the lobby.” you told him while taking his hands off your waist and grabbing one of them to drag him to the awards before he made you both late

The awards were going by smoothly and Mat wasn’t joking when he said that Anthony was going to be there as they pretended to take pictures the way you and Mat would. You didn’t mind it though because you knew what their friendship meant to each other and knew Mat would do the same if Anthony were ever to be nominated for something this big. During his speech, he was trying not to sound smug and let his ego show, especially only being a rookie and having his whole life ahead of him within the NHL. You couldn’t help but admire the way he talked and how he stood up there from a seat that you didn’t realize how good they were until he was up there. When he came back, the smile didn’t leave his face for the rest of the night. It was another win in his book but he didn’t want to be smug about it even if you knew.

And it's really such a shame

It's such a shame

'Cause I was Miss "Here to stay"

Now I'm Miss "Gonna be alright someday"

And someday maybe you'll miss me

But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

The first person who was there for you after the break up was Julie. Your best friend who you told everything to. She knew something was wrong as soon as you were at her doorstep in the middle of the night. Julie knew something was wrong with Mat a few months before the breakup but she didn’t want to say anything to make you upset but you knew she was right and you ignored all the signs. She supported you with every decision you made afterwards and thought you were right to take time to focus on yourself before getting into another relationship. The moment you told her you were seeing some she was happy that you were moving on and told her that you were going to be okay. You were happy that you’ve got to notice what you really needed and that your life didn’t always need to revolve around a man. Mat has tried to get into contact with Julie and apologize but he was late to it. You’ve moved on from him and he needed to know.

Goodbye, Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breakin' mine?

Mr. "Always at the right place at the right time," baby

Goodbye, Mr. "Casually cruel"

Mr. "Everything revolves around you"

I've been Miss Misery for the last time

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

“How do you feel?” Julie asked as you looked in the mirror for the last time

“Honestly? I still feel upset but it’s time to move on and go ahead with my life. He’s no longer dating me and I’ve accepted it but I’ve met someone new and he’s all that’s on my mind” you told her with smile on your face while turning to face her

“I’m proud of you. You’ve been Miss Misery for the last time and now you’ve grown up.” Julie faked cried but still feeling proud

“I feel like it too. He’s moved on and his heart doesn’t seem to be broken and mine is on the mend and forgetting about him. I just know that he’s perfectly fine the way he is and I don’t need it anymore. I felt like being with him, I was always in the shadows and I know he’s a professional hockey player, but I felt like there was just never time for “just us” like it always felt like it only revolved around him and I didn’t need that anymore.” you smiled while letting out a deep breath.

You're perfectly fine

Mr. "Look me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

You said you'd never go away

He promised and he always told himself he’ll keep the promise of never going away and fulfill it someday. Sometimes when you meet someone that’s what you think, but sometimes it never does and they break your heart in the end

#mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal imagines #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fic #mat barzal blurb #mathew barzal imagine #mathew barzal x reader #mat barzal angst #mat barzal fanfic #mat barzal fanfiction #new york islanders #new york isles #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl

[stardustedknuckles]

Oooh man I’m between 5 and 7 for that “they were secretly fucking all along” AU 👀

Oh god it's hard to pick a scenario I'm not already covering in the AU itself, slow as it's coming.

Okay okay after they explore The Tide's Breath, before they discover Twiggy. Number five, patching up wounds that turns to a kiss.

Good god that got away from me. More than 1k, maybe a light M but mostly a strong T. Hurt/comfort, something resembling a feeling squeaking out between two emotionally constipated dorks who haven't figured anything out yet.

"I've fucking had it with snakey...fishy people." Beau groused. "Ow."

"Move again and I will hold you down." Yasha didn't even lift her eyes from the wraps she wound over and around the gash in Beau's upper arm. There was something magnetic about the way it felt when Yasha ignored her - something freeing...and very fun to fuck with.

"That a promise?"

Now Yasha did pause, guttering lamplight making a copper mess of her dripping hair and pools of darkness where her irises ought to have been. Maybe she was like, really turned on. "Move again," Yasha clarified, "and I will carry you up top where Jester can see."

"I'll be good," Beau said immediately.

Yasha grunted softly and got back to work. "I feel like that is probably what I should do anyway. I don't think my healing did much."

"Aw no, please. I worked so hard to get past her and Caduceus. Have you seen the eyes on that guy? He notices fucking everything." She frowned. "Actually he probably let us get away, now I think about it."

Yasha seemed to consider that for a moment. "Probably it's not that bad then. There." She sat back and appraised her work with a critical eye. It didn't matter that she was focused on the bandage; being the focus of that intensity never failed to make Beau's skin prickle. Even when she wasn't soaked to the skin. Also was it her imagination, or was Yasha less...eager to get out of Beau's space than usual?

"If you're wondering, I'm totally fit to fuck." Beau said it as a joke, but her chest still sank a little when Yasha looked startled from whatever non-sexy thoughts she'd apparently been having.

"No, I wasn't - what's wrong with your pants?"

Beau followed the tilt of her eyebrows down to her baggy cobalt pants, which were damp all over with seawater but especially dark near her upper thigh. "Uh. They're girlfriend material?" she said weakly.

Yasha didn't even spare a sigh as she leaned in. "You're bleeding, Beau. You have another wound."

"What? I don't feel - oh uh. Okay." The last words were muffled; as she'd tilted her head for a better look, Yasha had simply reached up and pushed the side of her face away with one hand while the other now ran along the fabric of her pants in search of the source of blood. Her skin where it touched Beau's face felt cool and soothing, more likely owing to the aforementioned dip in the Lucidian than anything but having the paradoxical effect of setting Beau on fire regardless. "Hey, I charge for manhandling," she managed. "Well like. Usually. On principle."

Again Yasha ignored her. "Here." Beau winced as she felt Yasha's fingers alight on a stripe of salt heat she hadn't noticed. "It doesn't look deep," she mused. "More of a scrape."

With all of her senses on high alert, Beau couldn't help but notice what felt like it might be relief in Yasha's voice. "If you want my pants off you just have to ask. Except not really. I can just do that -"

Yasha's hand shifted, curling from their position pushing her away to grip her under the jaw and pull her face round to look at Yasha's. Beau's breath caught and shredded in her throat at the expression waiting for her. War paint more black than blue in the shadows dancing around her eyes, hair still dripping seawater and face tilted just so, there was a sort of curiosity to the burn of her gaze through Beau. "Are you hiding anything else?"

Beau swallowed and tried to make her fuzzy brain work right. "No. Wasn't hiding that one, not from you. Just didn't feel it."

Something flickered in Yasha's eyes, deeper than the pinpricks of lamplight and twice as kinetic. They were, Beau realized, inches from each other like this. "This is just what you are, isn't it?" Yasha didn't say it quite like a question, but neither was it a condemnation.

Beau couldn't be sure what specifically Yasha was talking about, but she knew better than to ask for clarification. "Hey, I said. What you see is what you get."

"I see someone very used to taking hits," Yasha said plainly. "And hiding them from people who could fix them."

The smile Beau managed felt probably half as sincere as it looked. "Not really used to the second bit. And like I said, I don't hide from you."

"You don't expect me to look," Yasha corrected. "That is not the same."

Beau swallowed again. "And here I thought throwing myself at you on the reg would make you less interested in checking me out. Shoulda known."

"You're going to end up killed." Yasha's voice was devoid of emotion, which was an interesting thing to note since Beau wasn't sure she would have described Yasha's voice before that moment as particularly nuanced. This was something besides soft or concerned or authoritative. She sounded icy in a way that could've had to do with Beau but mostly felt like she was talking to someone else. "People who throw themselves in front and go looking for trouble -" her free hand shifted from Beau's thigh up to the bandage covering her arm and squeezed it until Beau hissed quietly "- usually find it. It doesn't seem to matter whether I'm there or not."

Molly, Beau realized. Yasha was looking at the sum of her scrapes and bruises and seeing her recently dead best friend, while Beau was looking at her with horny pain brain thinking nothing but wow and hot and could I get these wet clothes off with anything resembling dignity. "Shit, I'm sorry," she said, and when Yasha's hand relaxed it came with the strange feeling she'd said the wrong thing. "It's not - I mean, yeah. I'm good at taking hits. But I'm not...it's just better it's me than someone who can't, you know. Can you imagine Caleb getting hit with a wet paper bag? I mean, we need him in a fight as long as possible."

Yasha's mouth opened slightly, but then she just shook her head and looked away.

"You take more hits than me anyway," Beau protested. It sounded weak even to her, but Yasha's eyes flicked back up with the comforting sensation of once again holding tight to Beau's jaw.

"I can't seem to die," she shot back. "It's not the same. Other people..." her eyes grew faraway, heat leaving her as quickly as it had come. "Never mind. I don't know what I'm saying. You're a really good fighter, Beau."

Something was coming rapidly to a close, and Beau was startled to realize she was sad to see it go - even if her palms were sweating. "It does matter, though."

Yasha looked at her sideways, wary.

"That you're here I mean. It does matter. You help me out and don't ask questions about me dodging the clerics, and like. I'm stubborn but I'm not an idiot. That gash didn't close because whatever you did probably got rid of some kind of infection or some shit, you know?"

The silence between them stretched to almost comical lengths, as much as there could be silence amid the various noises it took to make a ship run. Beau had discarded two witty statements and was working on a third by the time Yasha closed the distance between them with a kiss that crashed against Beau like thunder. Her hand shifted to brace on Beau's thigh right over the shallow cut, and whether the move had been purposeful or not the pain sang through Beau's veins and caused her to flinch into Yasha with a quiet groan that was swallowed as her thumb slid along the bottom of Beau's jaw.

"You," Yasha growled when she pulled away, slightly unsteady but nothing compared to Beau, "are impossible."

Beau took in her shiny lips and wild eyes, aware on some distant level that something felt changed between them even as she knew not to give anything away at all. Nothing about what they were could change. But gods, what a kiss.

She wiped a hand along her own open mouth and spent just a moment looking at the shiny stripe in the wake. "I've been called worse," she said, wiping it on her knee. "Can I take off my pants now?"

The unfocused intensity in Yasha's eyes was steadily fading with every breath; with a final blink she once again became the stoic and short woman Beau knew would happily break her over her knee whether Beau asked or not.

"Take off all of it," she ordered, "and if you do a good job I might let you take off mine too."

And that was it. Whatever had transpired between them just now was complicated and weighty, and ripping her damp clothes off - well, that would be too, but in a way far easier for Beau to come to grips with. "Fuck yeah," she said. "Hold still so I can balance on your shoulder?"

Yasha rolled her eyes but sat up a little straighter with the smallest of smiles as Beau got to work.

#beauyasha #prompt fill #hurt/comfort #asked and answered #boy that felt nice

[chockfullofsecrets]

"If I'm not careful I'm gonna end up writing content for a character who literally never appears in 141 episodes"

I mean, you are more than welcome to. In fact, we will gratefully encourage this.

you encourage chock? you encourage chock like the author? oh! oh! tk fic for anon! tk fic for anon for Two Thousand Words!

(also, heads up that i am moving next week! have been working on Importance of Timing when i can, but the first chapter probably won't be here for another two weeks at least.)

---

Verin Thelyss, Essek knows, is a seasoned battle commander and strategist.

He’s also in possession of the instinct to tackle people when he’s excited, so Essek is well aware that it’s only those decades of training and experience that have his little brother pausing for the briefest instant as Caleb and Jester teleport him into the hold of the Nein Heroez before he launches himself at Essek in a dead run.

Veth and Caduceus are at their respective homes, Kingsley watching over the ship, but he is far from alone - Yasha and Fjord each have a supportive hand on his shoulder, a silent assurance from the tense minutes waiting for their friends to return from Bazzoxan. They swear in unison and scramble for their weapons as Verin screeches to a halt just shy of shunting Essek straight though the hull and yanks him into a rib-crushing hug.

He burrows into the junction of Essek’s neck and shoulder, made possible only by virtue of the activated floating spell that puts the coiffed swoop of his hair a full inch above Verin’s. “Thank the fucking Light, you’re not actually dead.”

“What the fuck, he’s like a swearing puppy,” Beau hisses. There’s a soft thwap as Fjord gently smacks her across the back of the head.

Essek is feeling out the edges of friendly intimacy, still, stumbling through every brush of fingers and shared look of exasperation, but even he does not need Jester’s frantic gesturing to prompt him to lift his arms and awkwardly wrap them around Verin’s shoulders.

It’s like wrapping a single thread of silk around one of Yasha’s biceps. Clearly he is not built for comforting.

Verin stiffens with a single sharp twitch of his ear against Essek’s collarbone . Essek’s thoughts flail wildly between an expectation of tears or a dagger to his ribs, but his brother just laughs, loud and hearty, and snuggles even further into his personal space. “I see someone’s finally taught you how to hug back - you should have written and told me, this is better news than any number of pages on den politics.”

Essek bristles. “Careful, or I will stop,” he huffs, somewhat more waspishly than he intends to.

Luckily, Verin has proven immune to his moods. “Oh, please don’t,” he insists, voice still crackling with glee. He grins, warm and wide enough that Essek can feel it against the side of his neck. “It just makes doing this that much easier.”

“Doing what,” Essek says reflexively, even as the tiny portion of his brain that he allows to remember his childhood starts to blare an alarm. “Verin-”

It’s far too late to realize that Verin’s hands have somehow been maliciously positioned just along the backs of his ribs.

Jester, standing with Caleb behind Verin, perks up in clear interest as the corners of his mouth start to twitch up. On second thought, Essek thinks he’d have preferred the dagger.

“Verin,” he hisses again, fighting back the anticipatory shiver crawling up his back. “Don’t - don’t you dare-”

It’s about then that Verin’s evil, evil fingers find the edges of his mantle’s arm slits and squeeze him even closer as they stretch to wriggle under his arms.

He snatches his arms back, but it’s too late - a dismayed giggle sneaks from his throat, then another, and then he’s beating helplessly at Verin’s shoulders as he dissolves into high, squeaking laughter.

Every single nerve between his armpits and his ribs squirms in unison - a bubbly, slippery sensation even more potent for how long it’s been since he last felt it. “No,” he shrieks. “I - ahaha! eeheee! - no tickling, no tickling, Verin-”

Jester looks thrilled - she’s bouncing on her toes, babbling something to Caleb that’s inaudible over the rush of his own laughter. Light, the Nein are going to tear him apart for this-

“Yes, tickling,” Verin protests, laughing right along with him. “All the tickling! You let me think you were dead! For months! I thought I was never going to get to watch my poor brother giggle himself to pieces ever again!”

He’s not, because Essek is going to kill him. “That - nahaha, hff, ahaaa! - that was - ha - it’s been decades - stop, stop, there’s people!”

“Yeah, people,” Beau says, loud and smug and far too close behind him. “Hey - Verin, was it? - does hotboi here have a worst spot?”

Oh no. Oh no. Essek squeezes his eyes shut in a desperate attempt to focus and does the only thing he can while laughing like an idiot.

With a shaky flick of his wrist, his floating dispels. Verin yelps in surprise as gravity takes Essek straight out of his grip.

The instant his boots hit the deck, Essek twists the rest of the way out of his grip and bolts.

There’s nowhere to go, really - the Nein have a room full of Counterspells, and Verin can run faster than he can, and he’s already tumbling halfway back into laughter in giddy anticipation of being caught. Still, it’s a surprise when he stumbles into a brick wall of leather and biceps that resolves itself into Yasha as she hoists him back into the air.

“Oh, where do you think you’re going?” She sounds admirably innocent given the soft, teasing smile she gives him.

“Noooo,” Essek giggles. Heat gathers in his cheeks as he tries to make himself stop - it doesn’t make sense, he’s not even being tickled anymore, but even the potential for it flutters light and fizzy at the bottom of his lungs. “I - I’m not ticklish anymore, I’m not-”

The Nein and Verin cluster around the two of them, bubbling with various levels of amusement. “Really?” Beau drawls. “It’s cute that you think denying it has a single fucking chance of working.”

The sarcasm helps him center himself, if only a little - he buries his face in Yasha’s arm and sucks in a deep breath that doesn’t do nearly enough to get rid of his blush.

He straightens as best he can while being bear hugged by a barbarian. “I am denying nothing,” he says carefully. Jester is still bouncing next to Beau, fingertips already twitching where they’re curled sweetly on her cheeks around a mischievous beaming smile, and Essek has to look away before the nervous snickers still wobbling on the back of his tongue can worm their way free. “I am well aware that Verin is - incorrigible-”

He hisses the last word in his brother’s direction - again, harsher than he intends, but he is so unused to being soft around him - and fails to contain a shy smile as Verin sticks his tongue out in retaliation.

Jester’s tail waves its way into the edge of his peripheral vision. He jumps and looks over at Fjord instead. “-but I, ah, I would ask for more respect from the rest of you-”

“You really shouldn’t,” Fjord says, grinning boyishly back at him. “I mean, you know us.”

And then, to Fjord’s right - “Essek?”

He’s been avoiding looking at Caleb. It is foolish, perhaps, to think that after all of the incredibly stupid things he knows Essek has done he will decide to judge him for this, but he cannot help the way his shoulders stiffen as he twists a little further to meet the gaze of the last link in their semicircle. “Yes?”

Caleb looks - focused, in an offhanded way, like he’s intent on something happening just slightly out of their current reality. Stunned might be a better word for it. He blinks for a moment before focusing those keen blue eyes somewhere near Essek’s eyebrows. “Ah - did you know that when you laugh, your ears -” He puts his hands up to his own ears and flaps them a little.

Drow do not run particularly warm, but that only makes it easier for Essek to feel the heat absolutely flood back into his face. “I-” he stammers. Nearly a century of politics is nowhere near enough to help him keep a straight face. “I - ah - eeh!-”

Caleb is close enough to reach out and run a questing fingertip over Essek’s left ear - it flicks wildly, trying to dislodge the unexpected tickle, but a surprised squeak still slips out.

There’s a moment of silence before Verin starts to snicker. “Oh, I like your friends,” he says merrily, beaming. “Go on, Light knows he doesn’t let himself laugh enough otherwise.”

“Don’t,” Essek gets out hastily, but Caleb is already reaching out for another go and Yasha’s grip is firm enough that all he can do is squeak again. “Wait - hm, hnn!”

Beau sidles up to Yasha’s side and gives him a self satisfied leer as she reaches out across their little group to pluck the feather from Fjord’s tricorn. “You got him, babe?”

“I do,” Yasha confirms and lets out a little squeak of her own as Beau reaches around her, no doubt squeezing something entirely inappropriate with company present.

“Hot,” Beau smirks, and reaches to flutter the feather over Essek’s right ear. “Aw, does that tickle? Thought you said you weren’t ticklish, man.”

Essek maintains some facsimile of composure for all of two seconds before his face crumples “Nnn - hehehe - eheehe - oh!”

His lungs are surely going to burst, with the way they’re shivering out desperate giggles as he shakes his head frantically between Caleb’s fingers and the teasing feather. He can’t move his arms, so he kicks his legs instead. “Please,” he begs, nearly incomprehensible even to his own ears. “Ah - aha, heeheehee! - tickles-”

Verin leans down and scoops his ankles up with one ridiculously sculpted arm. “Essek, you’re going to put a hole in someone with those boots.”

He looks up, raising his eyebrows teasingly, and Essek’s stomach drops like he’s cast something on it. “Here, I’ll fix that.”

Essek’s eyes, narrowed with laughter, shoot wide open. He doesn’t remember Verin being this evil - but then again, his brother’s never been egged on by five other people determined to render reports of his death more realistic.

“Verin, Verin, no-” he tries, but he’s giggling so hard that he can’t even get the words out. He twists as far away from Caleb and Beau as he can, flailing frantically, but Verin’s grip holds firm.

He pouts dramatically. “What? Is it my fault that my tiny, ticklish wizard brother insists on wearing metal-tipped boots that endanger everyone?”

Essek opens his mouth to reply and promptly dissolves into another frantic peal of laughter as Beau gets bored of his ears and shoves her feather in Caleb’s direction before jabbing a finger between his trapped arm and his chest to get at his armpit. “Your - shihihit, shit, ahahaaa, not there! - your arcanist brother is going to kill you just as soon as I can- hahaha!”

Verin just laughs, unlacing one of his boots and starting to slide it off. “Is that your attempt to convince me not to tickle your feet?”

Jester, practically vibrating, emits a sound that perhaps only weasels can hear. “Oh, that’s so cute! Can I have one of them?”

“One of his feet? Sure.” Verin hands over an ankle, grinning down at Jester. “You, I think you’re my favorite.”

As Essek gasps and struggles and falls further and further into a formless mirth that makes him feel so light he can hardly bear it, there’s a different sensation at his ear. A hazy portion of his brain identifies it as the rough bristle of chin scruff and an amused huff of breath.

“You don’t really want them to stop, do you,” Caleb murmurs. “I will help you, if you do.”

It’s quite unfair, Essek feels, to try and make him explain himself while he’s strung out and dizzy with laughter. He tries anyway, for a syllable or two, but Verin digs in between two of his toes and he ends up just tipping his cheek against Caleb’s and shaking, laughing too hard to make a single sound.

“Alright, then,” Caleb says. “In that case-”

He brandishes the feather with a flourish more suited to somatic casting, swooping it down the length of Essek’s nose before directing it back to his ear.

“Tickle, tickle...”

#asks #tickling #critical role #essek thelyss #verin thelyss #caleb widogast #chocfic

[drabbleitout]

Find the Word Tag Game

Double Tag By: @spacetimewraithwrites over here and @winterandwords over here! My Words: fold, flower, furrow, free, fresh, flesh, lift, carry, drop, & move. Tagging: @asomeoneperson, @northernrosewritings, @kjscottwrites, @ashen-crest, @emelkae, & anyone else who would like to join! (As always, please don't feel pressured or rushed!) Your Words: Lead, Linger, Loose, Lump, & Law

Fold(er)

“And here I thought you’d like crowded places that smelt like booze.” Beau shuffled to an appropriate berth, moving along with the line. He searched for the mapping of Garnet’s face against [the nightclub's] records, not surprised to find him in their denial folder –only not for the reason he expected. “What're you making that face for?” Garnet scoffed. Beau regarded him for a moment, smirking. “You’ve been here before.” “Probably,” Garnet shrugged. “You were arrested here.” “Drop it.” He went serious, eyes narrowing.

Flower(s)

“This way,” [Duras] smiled, calm and welcoming, offering out an arm in signal to walk with her. He obliged, hooking his elbow in hers as they started for the stairs. “You’re going to be the next best thing, B-Zero. Just wait and see.” She took no mind to the climb, having no trouble in her thin heels and pencil skirt suit. White, it was embroidered with several flowers, a symbol famous for BloomingTech. Even her hair was neatly fixed into a bun, pinned to mimic the daisy shape. “It’s just like taking you to school, on your first day.” She patted his arm again, both stepping into the automatic doors.

Furrow(ed)

“Nose on the ground!” Garnet palmed the man’s head, shoving his face to the floor. “You’ve been a pain in my ass for months, Benton. Can’t you let a guy have a coffee break before you start tearing shit up again?” He glanced up to the pair standing in the hall, double-taking for a better look at Beau. His brow furrowed, nose wrinkled, crooked and swollen from being broken –perhaps once or twice. Most of his face was harsh from previous injuries, looking similar to the face of a professional boxer. An unsuccessful one. Benton tried squirming free again. “Allow me, Lieutenant,” more officers were in the hall, one crouching down to help detain Benton. “Step off, Shitbox. I got ‘im.”

Free

Beau took the lighter. With one, effortless try, he woke a flame from the jet, holding it out to shelter from the blowing snow. Garnet slouched to meet it, taking a few drags before it took. Beau closed the lighter, sliding it back into Garnet’s jean pocket. “Why is it,” Garnet paused to pull the cigarette from his mouth, “you never tell me to stop smoking?” “Because my métier isn’t medical. It’s not my place to advise you how to live your life. And to make you stop smoking would be taking away your free will.” “And here GodHead’s worried you’re gonna go full Terminator and enslave us.” “Too much work, in my opinion,” Beau grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Besides, if you’re asking me why I don’t ask you, you already know it isn’t good for you. Telling you to stop would be redundant, a waste of time and energy.”

Fresh

I only have one of these and, strangely, it's too spoilery to post lol

Flesh Skin

Ives was made for destruction, to be brutal and vicious. He knew how to protect, going to that apartment building and wading through bullets and violence to get to Ryker had been simple. Natural. But having him there, soft skin and warm breath made Ives distrust himself. He’d lost control in the raid. Seeing Ryker in his battered state, he’d killed two people. And what if he lost control now? What if he hurt Ryker? Warm hands cupped his face, unsure how long he sat there in his panicked daze, pulled into focus as thumbs caressed his cheeks. “You okay?” Ryker whispered.

Lift(ing), Drop, & Mov(ing)

“Drop your weapons!” Ryker was suddenly there beside Beau. He was riddled with cuts and bruises on his face and arms. “Stand down.” Garnet echoed him, moving past into the group for arrests. A hand on Beau’s shoulder drew his attention up to Ryker. “Where did you get this?” He nodded to the rifle. “Ives gave it to me.” “Ives…?” But his face paled, carefully lifting the rifle out of his grip. “Alright, let’s… how about you let me deal with this, and you call for transport?” “Yes, sir.” “And Beau?” Ryker regarded him for another moment, “Let’s not tell anyone about this, alright? We’ll keep it a secret. Think you can keep this a secret?” “Of course!” Beau smiled. “I can keep a secret.”

Carry

“Hey, look at me. Look at me, Ives. Eye contact,” reluctantly he did so, tearing his stare from Ryker to look Garnet in the eyes. “He’s gonna be alright, okay? We need to get him upstairs to a medic. Can you carry him?” “Yes,” he calculated his bearings, Garnet helping him gather Ryker up in his arms, sure to tuck his head against his shoulder. He stood with Ives, still speaking calmly. “Down the hall, up the stairs, to the lobby –just don’t drop him.”

#tag game #wip: tb

[spritewrites]

Don’t know if you do this pairing, but for ask meme: Cleric-squad (Jester & Caduceus) for ‘19’

team cleric for the win!!! they're just the cutest, thanks for this prompt

19. “Come on, laugh for me!”

It’s nearly sunset when Jester finds him on the roof. She should’ve looked here first, honestly, but the detour through the kitchen was essential for pastry acquisition, and then Sprinkle found a roach and that was a whole chase sequence, and then all the business with Beau—honestly, it’s a marvel she was able to keep it all straight.

“Ca-doooo-ceus,” she sings. “Are you in the garden?”

“Yep!” A pink head pokes out above some bluish-green fronds that look like fans. His fur is a little smudged with dirt, the way it can get sometimes if he’s really working. She’ll have to track down a Prestidigitation for him later. Oh, or maybe the hot tub will rinse it off!

Focus, Lavorre. Focus.

“I just wanted to come check on you, that’s all.”

“Check on me?” Caduceus stands, brushing at his knees with large fuzzy hands.

Jester kicks a bit, tracing a little dick into the soil with her toe. “Well, there was all that stuff with the undead, and I know—I mean, you talk a lot about how much you don’t like the undead, and I figured it must have spooked you pretty bad. So I wanted to come check on you, and maybe cheer you up!”

Caduceus blinks slowly. “Oh. Well thank you, Jester, that’s sweet— I’ve got some crocuses that I’m trying to make happen, if you want to help. Xhorhas isn’t great for these little guys, but I thought Yasha might not have seen ‘em before—”

She tries not to wrinkle her nose, without much success. All that dirt? No, thanks. “Actually, I was thinking of getting you to laugh.”

“Laugh?” Caduceus says, cocking his head. “What for?”

“Well…” Gosh, it’s so hard to explain things that make so much sense in her head. “We were screaming in terror earlier, so now we should do some laughing to balance it out. That’s what the Traveler’s all about! Equal and opposite, you know?”

“Oh.” Caduceus looks amused, if a bit befuddled. Which is kind of how he always looks. She must be doing a pretty good job explaining, then. “I don’t know any good jokes, though.”

Jester grins, wide and toothy. “That’s okay, I’ve got a better idea!”

She pounces, tail flicking, and just barely manages to avoid shoving him over into a shrub. As it is, he stumbles, making delightfully confused noises, until he regains his balance—just as she sneaks her fingers into the gaps in his beetle armor, prodding mercilessly at his sides. His gentle eyes grow big, and his nose snuffles as he fails to keep back an enormous smile. The ribs under her fingertips shiver a little with the laughter that she knows is sure to follow.

Everybody knows that Caduceus laughs best when he’s tickled.

“Oh, come on, Caduceus,” she giggles, “laugh for me!”

“I’m—pfft, I’m trying—”

“Try harder!” She works one hand around the back of his leg, tickling just above his knee, and the whole thing buckles. He’s giggling outright now, punctuating the sound with snorts and sputtered attempts at half-words.

“Jester—eeehehe, oh please, oh please, not there—”

“Not where?” Jester flashes him a bit of mischievous fang as her fingers find the soft spot on the back of his calf, and he nearly topples over on top of her, snickering. “Not here? But Caduceus, it makes you laugh so much!”

Caduceus snorts again, pushing gently at her horns, but not hard enough to really shove her away. He’s quite compliant, nothing like Caleb or Veth. It would be rather easy to just tickle him into the dirt til he’s laughing so hard he can’t breathe, til he’s forgotten all his troubles and just feels like smiling forever.

She reaches up and squeezes a bit at his side, hooking her nails around his back under the armor, and that does it—he folds, laughing, and falls to the ground with an oof.

Jester bursts into giggles, clutching her stomach. “Good thing you didn’t land on anything pretty, huh!”

For a moment, Caduceus seems primarily focused on recovering oxygen—then he shoots her a rueful look from his landing spot among the daffodils. “Jester, you know I’m much too ticklish for things like that.”

“Sure, sure,” she says, bouncing on her toes. “But do you feel better?”

To his credit, his head tilts, and he gives the notion a proper thinking over. “I do, I suppose.”

“Oh, wonderful!” Jester cries, hugging him tight. Sitting on the ground like this, he’s a perfect hugging size, and she’s able to give him a quick kiss on his hair before he stumbles to his feet. The smile from before is still lingering, and she pokes him again in the side to hear the soft huff of laughter. “Okay, I wanna stick around and help with the garden, I promise I do, but, um… I have to help Beau with a spell okay byeeee!”

She’s a flash of blue on her way out, ducking around tree roots on her way down the stairs, and she only just manages to catch Caduceus’ mumbled “Beau?” before she’s out of earshot. Mission accomplished.

#critickle role #ask meme #these are closed!!!