#she has her oh moment in gif 5 but gif 6 is necessary

[kirasgirl]

GOD COMPLEX| Jujutsu Kaisen x FEM!reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

HER MOTHER SAID SHE WAS DANGEROUS.

"You're a dangerous little girl."

She was right.

(Name) knew what it looks like.

Women would kill each other to look like her.

Sculpt yourself with plastic surgery.

They inject things.

They starve to death.

Waiting, praying, so that one day they will look like a second version of it.

And she was totally right. (Name) was a dangerous, selfish and a little cautious girl. Confident of his appearance and strong personality.

She licked her lips pink. His hand on his face while he was sitting in the beautiful chair in that room. Her legs crossed elegantly, showing her legs exposed while the skirt she wore increased slightly with the movement, showing a little more than necessary.

His eyes were fixed on the figure in front of him, three meters away in particular.

The table filled with men and some women, but his gaze totally fixed on one in specific in front of him.

Not understanding what he had said that night, about his meetings being more frequent but now, understanding perfectly.

The only man who managed to mess with the completely strong and determined mind of the major (name).

Geto Suguru.

His long and dark hair stuck the way he always wore, a sloppy, but stylish outfit as always on his body.

Pulled and unique eyes staring at her at the same intensity.

Whoever was in that room could totally feel the tension in which everything was transforming.

The two young people in a deadly battle for the lascivious look. Gushing indirect hatred to both sides, almost spitting fire if they could.

"Don't stay in this hatred, darlings." Mei Mei, Geto's assistant said, a mischievous smile on her lips painted red. "It will just be work and a marketing thing."

The beautiful young girl smiled, an ironic smile shaking her head in denial, hoping that this would be some kind of prank for some viral video.

"Marketing? What do you expect us to gain from this?" She uttered, a pinch of confidence in her voice.

"I think it's kind of obvious" Geto interfered, the lewd look still stuck in the girl, a way to annoy her.

"I'm not talking to you." She responded immediately.

"Oh... relax a little, darling."

It was amazing how he could annoy her more than Gojo.

"No fight, please." Maki uttered, a little irritated as always by the way they both acted. "This is something professional and not personal, treat it maturely and don't act like children."

The girl rolled her eyes at her assistant.

"And why did it have to be right with the two of us together?" He replied.

Maki adjusted his glasses, a sigh on his lips.

"(Name), there are three things that the audience wants in a good movie; you, Geto Suguru and sexual chemistry. So think about it and see what it will lead us to."

The girl rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time at that moment. Laughing nervously, already irritating at the idea that there is still any trace of sexual chemistry with that man.

"Was that not enough with Gojo?"

Maki looked at her mortally, the young actress already knowing that she was deeply irritating her assistant, responsible for thousands of things in her career.

"The relationship is totally different. Forget about personal problems and stay in the professional area." He replied, her head already hurting so much that the actress was stubborn. "And you always complain about Gojo."

She added, giving a little sarcastic smile to her client who just made a pout looking away.

Mei Mei, who so far has kept quiet, communicating only in whispers with Geto, finally speaks.

"If (name) doesn't mind, my client and I are fully in agreement with the contract. We'll just need you to sign the papers correctly." Mei Mei's sweet voice echoed throughout the room, passing on some roles to all the employees of the table, including the young actress. "Geto is totally willing to act professionally, think about it (name) will be an opportunity of great access to your career."

The girl watched the paper in front of her, her eyes capturing between Mei Mei, Maki and Geto who still smiled so mischievous that she made her wonder.

What was really going to happen?

Her perfectly made nailed hands went up to the pen next to her, shaking it slightly. Rethinking several times if it would be right. Regardless of the situation.

Regardless of how much what happened in the past has personally affected her.

Regardless of what was going to happen during this period of time to which the girl, no matter how much she didn't want to, would have to pass next to Geto Suguru.

Your ex-fiancé.

Your subscription was complex and fast.

A simple scribble that would change a lot.

The employees and sponsors who were in the room smiled relieved, talking to each other about future business.

And the girl didn't take her eyes off Geto, who did the same. His high heels frantically hitting the ground while his head was going to a million.

Anger and remorse mixed together, thinking about how she was acting on her emotions.

Afraid of relapse, as had done before in the past.

As soon as Maki announced the end of the meeting. The young woman got up hurriedly, collecting her designer bag and putting it on her shoulder.

A snort coming out of your beautiful lips before heading to the door.

"Hey, (name)." She stopped abruptly, her eyes closing in a sign of irritation.

Turning your heels slowly to face the tall and annoyingly attractive being in front of you.

The smell of his cologne is now being felt by the girl, showing how the boy still remained the same fragrant and stylish man as before.

Of course.

Still wearing the same perfume she had given him in the past.

Anyway, wouldn't deny that she had good taste in colonies.

"Say what you want right away." She said without fear, looking at the clock on the wall of the office, knowing it was almost time for another meeting.

Geto smiled, this time a different smile, one to which she can't decipher as she was, just raised one of her confused eyebrows.

"Let's forget the past and act like professionals, I know you're not a weak mind so how about just forgetting it for a while." He admitted, hoping that the girl would understand when he reached out his hands for her to squeeze, as a deal.

Which, as expected, was ignored.

She laughed, taking her hands to her lips in a sarcastic way.

"I'm not going to make any peace agreement with you, Geto. I'm agreeing with this for the work and not because I want some peace with you." She said without fear. "I hate you and I'll make you remember it every day."

She smiled minimally, soon changing her face to a frown before turning around and going her way.

Your steps this time are longer and heavier.

A thought soon passing through the girl's troubled mind.

"Oh..." she turned around. "Fuck you, Suguru."

Your middle finger getting up, before going out the huge doors of the office.

Her figure on her back walking perfectly while Geto watched her advance and disappear in her vision.

As much as the small conversation of both had been small and rude. He kept a smile on his face.

More like a proud smile than a mischievous one.

Knowing that he was just starting hell that his life was going to turn into.

Knowing how the woman he had been involved in the past was the type he would take for the rest of his life on that earth.

Geto Suguru felt almost excited.

She really was a dangerous woman.

The sound of the car door hitting hard, scaring the driver who just didn't say anything, knowing that his boss was so angry.

His soft hands met his bag, turning to look for his cell phone.

Taking your cell phone out of your purse, something fell soon after.

Picking up and reading what it was.

Oh...

That little card, containing some connecting numbers made her think softly.

Remembering the night he met the owner of it. Rethinking your stress situation several times.

Your fingers were quick when typing on your mobile phone, then the ringtone in your ear.

He played only five times before being answered.

The voice on the other side of the line responding boring, his thick and hoarse voice making goosebumps in the girl's skin.

"What do you want?" The voice asked, looking angry since today was a day off.

The young woman laughed softly.

"Hello" she replied, hoping that he would recognize her sweet voice.

What he did.

"(Name)? That's unexpected." Finally, his voice now had an emotion, curious to know the reason for his connection.

She sighed, her tone as confident as before.

"I think I'm now interested in knowing about your business in person."

Oh, how bold she was.

#jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #yandere gojo #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #gojo saturo #jjk x reader #jujutsu geto #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu megumi #megumi x reader #itadori x reader #sukuna x reader #gojo smut #toji smut #getou suguru x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen nobara #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen

[hockeyshmockey]

Max Verstappen- Wing Men

summary: the moment when max has a crush and the paddock tries to help wing man

warnings: I used this years grid but im going with a more 2021 season vibe since I can use the fia gala as an event :)

wc: 2.3k

“Hello,” Max greeted as he walked into the room where the drivers would be gathering to participate in some of the F1 media challenges for the upcoming season.

“Hey Max,” Scott, one of the cameramen from the previous year greeted. “Good off season?”

The men spoke for a moment about their respective time ‘away’ from the track. “Will Jane be joining us?” Max looked around for the woman who usually directed these challenges. 

“Ah, no. Jane moved to a HQ based job. This season you’ll be working with Amelia, she’s been working with the team for a few years.”

Max nodded but internally was a little annoyed. He liked routine, and he always felt more comfortable with people he knew. He just hoped Amelia lived up to his expectations or else he could start to look like Kimi. 

“Ah, here she is now,” Scott nodded towards the door. Max turned around and let his eyes travel up and down the woman coming through the door. She couldn’t have been more than 5′6, even with the massive pointed heels on her feet. 

“So sorry guys, I got caught up in brainstorming,” Amelia gave them a breathless grin. “Hi Max, it’s great to meet you. Heard great things.”

“I am assuming you have been lied to,” he smirked as he shook the hand she offered, Amelia laughing at his joke. 

“I’ve seen the out takes of these games, you can’t be that bad,” she winked as she went to move to the table next to the camera and sat her notebook down. “I don’t want to take up more of your time than necessary, so we can get started if you like?”

Max found himself slightly disappointed he didn’t get to talk with her more before it turned to work, nodding as Amelia began to tell him about today’s challenges. The woman directed the driver through a geography challenge and then an either or challenge focused on the US. 

“Ok Max, thats it for today,” the woman stood back up and approached him. “this season we have decided to space out the challenges across different races, so you’ll get to see some more of me yet.”

“I definitely will not be complaining about that,” he flirted lightly, enjoying the way she blushed before offering him a sweet goodbye. He was lost in his head a bit when he ran into a body in the hall. 

“Oi, watch where you’re going there Maximillian,” Daniel laughed as the blonde shook his head before hugging the Australian. 

“Sorry man, my head was a million miles away,” the dutch man rubbed a hand across his face while Daniel looked on in confusion. 

“No offense man, but I didn’t think older women were your type. Jane could be your mum-”

“It’s not Jane you idiot,” Max huffed, looking over his shoulder to make sure Amelia wasn’t lurking. “There is a new host this year. Her name is Amelia.”

“Oh my god,” Daniel squealed. “You have a crush!”

By the end of the drivers heading to grill the grid, every driver knew about Max’s attraction to Amelia. Daniel had told Lando, who had told Carlos and George, who in turn had told Charles, Checo and Lewis, who then had exposed him to Pierre, Fernando and Valterri, then off to Yuki and Lewis, who told Seb and Zhou, who told Mick and Esteban, who told Lance, Nicky and Alex.

So yeah. The whole grid knew.

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

“Hello Amelia,” Daniel drawled out as he ran into the younger woman in the paddock for the next GP she was attending for challenges. 

“Hi Daniel!” She smiled up at him, fitted out in a bright pink blazer and short set with another pair of killer heels. 

“Wow, Max had told me you looked stunning today, but he didn’t give you enough credit,” Daniel smirked.

“He did?” The girl asked, but Daniel had already walked away whistling.

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

“Hello, hello,” Amelia greeted as she walked into the room where both Max and Checo were sitting for this weekends content challenge. The two were being quizzed this day about their F1 knowledge. 

“Amelia!” Checo cheered, causing Max to nudge his teammate. He wasn’t sure how (actually he was) but apparently the whole grid knew he thought Amelia was stunning. And as he had gotten to know her better, he had learned she had an amazing personality to boot. 

“Hi Sergio,” the woman laughed, accepting the hug he stood to offer her. Max realized the opportunity Checo was giving him, so didn’t hesitate to stand to embrace her next. 

“Hi Max,” she tried to keep her voice normal, but knew it came out breathy as the man wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“You smell nice,” Max commented absentmindedly as he pulled back, blushing as Amelia thanked him.

grid boys 2022

checo

max just told amelia she smelled nice

lando

MATE HAHA

daniel

this is gold

this is why he needs our help

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

"Well look who it is,” Amelia was brought out of her sleepy haze at a booming voice over her shoulder. She smiled softly when she turned to see Daniel and Max approaching her in the aisles of the corner shop near her hotel for the Belgium Gran Prix. 

“Hi boys,” she offered the both of them hugs. 

“You’re looking short today,” Daniel joked, looking down at the sandals she was wearing rather than her normal heels. 

“Yep, just wanted to pop over for some meds. No need for heels,” she giggled. 

“You feeling alright?” Max peered down at her in concern. 

“Ah yes, just coming off of a nasty cold, and with the jet lag I just needed something to help me sleep,” she held up the ZQuil in her hand. 

“Well, hey listen, I have to run,” Daniel rushed out suddenly. Max and Amelia looking at him in confusion. “But Max, you make sure our Amelia gets home safely, ok? Bye!” With that, the brunette literally skipped out of the store. 

“He is an odd one,” Amelia remarked with a laugh, Max joining in. “But seriously, don’t worry about walking me back. I’m a big girl, I can make it.”

“No, I want to!”  he protested. “Plus I want to hear about your summer break.” Amelia smiled softly before asking if he was ready, and heading to the register. 

The two turned the five minute walk to her hotel, into a twenty minute walk. Talking about what they had both been up to and catching up on the last few weeks. 

“This is me,” Amelia nodded to the Holiday Inn behind them. “Thanks so much for walking me back, you are too sweet.”

“Any time,” he grinned. “And let me know if you need anything if you’re not feeling better. Can I give you my number?”

“Very sly Verstappen,” she smirked as she pulled out her phone and handed it over. Once she returned it, the blonde wrapped her in a warm hug that bordered on too long, before they broke apart and went their separate ways. 

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

“Hi Max,” Amelia greeted as she ran into the man walking into the paddock for the Dutch GP weekend. 

“Amelia!” he grinned, turning around to wrap her in a hug. “Good to see you!”

Max had of course forgotten both Bradley, his sister and his mother were with him. “Amelia,” he guided her around with a hand on the small of her back to his smirking sister and Bradley, and his angel of a mother. “This is Bradley my trainer, my sister Victoria, and my mother Sophie.”

Amelie darted forward to greet all of them with a warm smile. “It is so lovely to meet you all. Are you excited for the weekend?”

The group of them turned and started to walk into the paddock as the entrance was beginning to get a little busy. Max watched with a smile as Amelia chatted with his mother and sister about the weekend, and her work. 

“Mate,” Bradley elbowed him. “You look so lovestruck right now.”

Max grumbled at his friend, but his frown remained when he realized the time had come for Amelia to split ways from them. 

“Well this is me,” the woman grinned, gesturing over her shoulder to the media area. “It was so amazing to meet you all!”

“Oh you too darling,” Sophie leaned over to hug the woman. “You must come see us in Monaco one day.”

Max almost rolled his eyes as his sister agreed, the two women clearly already conspiring. “That would be amazing,” Amelia smiled gently. “Thanks for the escort,” she turned to Max with a teasing grin, the blonde leaning down to hug her again. 

“Had to make sure you found your way,” he joked. “See you later?”

The girl nodder, waving to the group before heading into the glass building. As soon as the doors closed, his three companions were on top of him.

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

“Max Vestappen, World Champion,” Amelia beamed at the sweaty man stood across from her. “Let me just say congrats. This is well deserved.”

Max thanked her, the smile never fading as she asked him a few questions before eventually waving the camera off. As soon as the camera was off, she bounded over and wrapped the blonde in a tight hug. 

“What a season Max,” the two rocked back and forth before pulling away slightly, but keeping their hands on each other. “It was truly a pleasure to watch and be a part of it.”

“I think you must be my good luck charm,” Max smirked, ignoring the cat call from Daniel over his shoulder.

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

Amelia entered the large ball room in an expensive Monaco hotel with nerves bubbling in her belly. Before this year, she had never made the invite list for the FIA Gala. But this year with her new role, she had landed a spot. 

Coming without her team was terrifying. The woman felt like she had spent the season building a good rapport with many of the drivers and principals, but it still would have felt better to have a friend here to arrive with. Even though Max had offered to arrive with her himself, she knew he had other duties to attend to. 

Max was standing with a large group of drivers when he saw Amelia arrive. She was in a stunning gown, her hair pulled back to show off her shoulders and neck. 

“And we have lost Max for the night,” Charles laughed with his hand around his girlfriends waist, the brunette quirking an eyebrow in question. “Oh, Max is in love with one of the women who run the F1 media challenges.”

“Oh,” she gasped, following everyone’s look to Amelia. “Someone should go get her, she looks lost.”

“I can-”

Max’s reply was lost as Pierre and Yuki began to speedwalk towards the woman. “This is going to be a disaster,” he groaned, Daniel laughing hysterically as Max turned to the bartender to order another drink. 

“Amelia!” Yuki practically yelled as he approached with his team mate, the woman offering them both a smile. 

“Hi boys!” she leaned in to give them both a hug. “It is wonderful to see you. You both look dashing.”

“You know who is really dashing,” Pierre smirked as he offered her his arm and began to lead her to where they had come from. “Max.”

“Oh is he,” Amelie giggled. 

“He is,” Yuki piped up as they got closer to the other drivers, including the man in question. “And look at him in a bowtie?”

“He does look good in a bowtie,” Amelia commented absentmindedly as they joined the group, everyone offering her hellos. She was introduced to a few girlfriends she hadn’t met yet, and the women found themselves chatting over their getting ready process compared to the men. 

“I heard you think I look good in a bowtie,” Max asked the woman later that night, after dinner when he had gotten the nerve to ask her to dance. 

“Oh my gosh,” Amelia laughed. “Do you really need me to boost your ego?”

“Nope,” he smirked. “But let me boost yours. You are the most beautiful woman here tonight.” The girl blushed, turning her head into Max’s shoulder to ignore his piercing gaze. “Will you take a walk with me?”

When she agreed, the two headed out of the large double doors leading to a garden. “So, what are this off season’s plans?” Amelia asked after a moment of silence. 

Before Max answered, he draped his tux jacket over Amelia’s shoulders, the woman smiling softly before wrapping her arm around his own to huddle together as they walked. 

“Definitely see my family, get some training in,” he listed off. “I would also really like to take you on a date.”

That night, Max returned home to his apartment with a bright smile, hours after the gala ended. He and Amelia had ended up getting some late night food, and he had dropped her off at her hotel with plans to see each other in a week. He toed his shoes off and went to head right to his bedroom when he heard a noise in the living room. 

Max had to hold back his laughter at the sight in front of him. Daniel was taking up his whole couch with Jimmy asleep on his chest. Yuki was curled up on a love seat, with Pierre on a pile of pillows on the floor. Finally, Lando was sleeping in the single seater, with Sassy literally curled up on his face. 

Max took a photo and sent it to Amelia. 

this what I got home to..... nice wing men I guess

As he laid down he got a response. 

yeah if those were your actual wingmen you would be SOL... even with me

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen fluff #f1 #f1 driver #f1 driver imagine #f1 drivers #f1 driver imagines #formula one #formula one imagine #formula 1 driver #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 driver imagine #formula one driver #formula one driver imagine #imagine #racing #driver imagine

[tutuandscoot]

Ice Dance Falls, Fails and Flubs

Part 2

1. The Aboriginal Dance

Cultural appropriation at its finest. Seriously. How was this not banned??? VM’s Carmen gets banned but not this??

Points for not going with the standard ol’ Russian folk dance but this should never have been allowed. Aboriginal dance is an ancient tradition that dates back 60 000 years, it is a religion for the aboriginal people. There were once over 700 different tribes across Australia, each with their own unique storytelling. It is part of Aboriginal Dreamtime culture and is a way of passing down legends and stories through generations.

So, what specifically is wrong with this above, well other than ALL OF IT:

The music: this is not Aboriginal music, idk what it is but it is not utilising traditional instruments, the “singing” is not culturally accurate.

The costumes: this is just so offensive and inappropriate. Yes, aboriginal culture and dances use face paint (oca to be exact) but not like this. They do not where leaves all over themselves, nor do they wear strings. At one point in the season, he was dressed in a darker unitard and black face- AT LEAST that was banned.

The choreography: this is just not the kind of dancing that can be done on ice. Flamenco, yes, waltzs, yes, country dance, sure. Not this. This Russian team makes it out as though Aboriginals are Neanderthals. They are not. Their dances are are pieces of art and communicate 10s of thousands of years of history. The nose rubbing is not aboriginal but more a Māori (new zealand/ pacific islands) custom.

How this wasn’t deducted all the component scores I have no idea, it’s a disgrace this won an Olympic medal

2. Yuri Balkov: Human Turd 💩

Partly responsible for the shit show that was 1998 ice dance. Banned for a year then back on the panel several times again, and was up to his same shit once again here in 2002. Spineless turd with no respect for the sport he is.

3. Nailed the Ending

This is much better with volume (timestamp 1:11:00 on the Beijing FD video).

Point 1. The lil ‘sexy time’ moment 😖

Point 2. Why is it necessary to put a move like this right at the end when you have just done a lift?

Point 3. Who came up with this? Of course he was gonna dropped her! She has no point of contact on him so how is she suppose to get upright again when she does not have Tessa Virtue’s core of steel??

Point 4. Obviously on the first watch you notice the drop first, but just before that you get an elbow to the face- lovely.

Point 5. The perfectly timed crash drop on the music. Art. I hope she was ok, this is a horrible thing to happen, but the musically comedy of it is just gold.

Also this was a very bad fd.. so boring, bad music.. this ending kinda came par for the course.

4. Weapo’s Twizzles

Bobble bobble bobble bobble fall over bobble bobble

5. FP/M Salt Lake City Edition

Splat.

Come on man! How hard is it to stay up right? (ice skating is very hard but these are Olympic level athletes… supposedly).

It truly does not surprise me it was considered taking this “sport” out of the Olympics. Thank god they didn’t and two precious bby angels came among to rescue it.

Oh yeah btw.. this won a medal 🫣😵‍💫🥴

6. 22 year old high level athlete doesn’t take responsibility for her own costume; chaos ensues.

I was always taught from starting dance at 3 years old- your costume is your responsibility. If it doesn’t feel right, you get the safety pin or needle and thread and you fix it, or you at least make sure someone else does it up for you PROPERLY, obviously no one wants this to happen to them esp not on global television but it was solely her responsibility to fix it (things are different in shows/companies where you have costumers , but you individually- your own costume you are responsible for). To continue complaining about this for the next 4 years is a childish joke and even if the hideous green dress had stayed together you still shouldn’t have won 😘

7. ISU after 1998: “We’re gonna fix ice dance judging”. ISU in 2002: “Psych”.

I hate this and love this an equal amount.

The synchronicity of Rod and Tracey: “They’ve been beaten, by the Israelis”. (Pls don’t take that out of context rn). Tracey was just 100% DONE with all of this.

From Margarita and Povilas in their crowns, her throwing hers off and storming out. Jeff Buttle shouting ‘WHAT THE FUCK??’ Iconic.

8. Scooter’s Nose Bleed

Poor bby. Iconic way to finish off your first National Championships win. Then they make you go out and do an encore 🤦‍♀️. I love in the first gif how Shay pops into the shot 😂

Also ironic thinking about a certain team at 2017 worlds getting blood on each other and their reaction… do you think T even blinked twice at getting S’s nose blood on her?? I don’t think so..

#ice dance fails part 2

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

A Moment's Surprise--Chapter 5

Whether it’s called an accident or the fates of the universe, you and Calum find yourselves taking on the next level of your relationship: parenthood.

Reader (Gender Neutral) X Calum. Multi-chapter Series.

Series Note: Across this series, pregnancy is discussed thoroughly. While I have made this series specifically a reader insert and have done my best to avoid coding for cis women, I am taking this moment to acknowledge that this content may not be suitable for every reader. I want to acknowledge even if I’ve been careful some things (like uteri) are still mentioned and if that causes you discomfort please DO NOT read this. You may keep scrolling (as there is a read more) / skip this as necessary.

Chapter Warning: Smut/Sexual Content Referenced but not explicitly described.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Epilogue

Chapter 5

The plush white sheets have swallowed you. When you blink up to the high vaulted ceilings and the sun shines in from glass walls, you realize the sheets are pulled up near your chin and they’re tucked in on one side of you. The mattress at first felt good as you sunk into it, but you’re realizing now that you didn’t tuck a pillow between your knees. “Well, that’s going to suck,” you whisper. 

“Oh, I love hearing that first thing in the morning,” Calum exhales in your ear. 

“Suck you off, yes if you ask. But I was referring to my back,” you laugh and take a moment to push up and turn to your other side. Calum’s face greets you with a sleepy smile. 

“I’ve been told a time or two I’ve got some magical fingers.”

You snicker, knowing the time or two has been you. “I wonder who would say a thing like that.”

“But seriously, what’s going on with your back?”

“I usually sleep with an extra pillow between my knees for extra support,” you inform. 

Calum’s nod is thwarted by the pillow his own head is on. “Got it, won’t forget tonight, okay? Anything else you need? We can go out to get it if need be.”

“A kiss,” you return with a grin. “I hear those are domestic grown.”

He can’t help the ridiculous laugh that escapes him. But he scoots in a little closer. “I heard they’re grown here too.” He presses a kiss to your lips as well. As Calum pulls back from the kiss, he reaches behind him and unearths a pillow from the mound that was the bed when you two finally fell into it last night. 

“Spread ‘em, love,” he teases. “We’re not leaving this bed for a while, alright?”

“You are utterly ridiculous, you know.” You peel away the layers of the sheets and Calum slips the pillow between your knees, before covering the two of you back up in the sheets. 

“But I’m your utter ridiculousness," he counters.

“You are.” In the silence, gazing at the stubble of Calum’s cheek, your mind wanders back to his arrival. “What did Joy say to you the other day? When you got home?”

“Something I already know,” he returns, threading his fingers through yours over the comforter. “And that sounds like a hundred times worse than I intended, sorry. I think she still wants me to do things a certain way, you know. Because she’s my mum. And I understand her perspective. Just doesn’t mean I’m going to do it like she wants me too. I want to do things when they feel right. And it’s not just me it would affect either, so there’s more things to juggle than it can appear.”

You nod. “Parents never really stop being your parents.”

“And to think, we’re next,” Calum laughs. 

“Whoa, buddy, who would’ve thought?” You want it to come out like a joke. You want to laugh and move on, think about baby names or possibly breakfast. But even you hear the shake in your voice. You hear how much truth resides in the statement. 

“Hey, I’m going to be there. And Mum is too. And Dad said he’s going to fly out too. Not sure when. But aye, be ready,” Calum teases the last sentence with a decent Scottish accent impression before he continues in his normal voice, “And your uncle is coming next week. And your mom’s flying in at the end of the year.”

“You know you’re dating a worrier, right? Just want to put that into perspective for you,” you tease. 

Calum traces your hairline before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And I’m going to marry said worrier too.” The confession doesn’t shock Calum like he thought it might. He wondered what he’d feel with those words crossing his lips. He imagined he might panic. But instead there is only a calm falling over Calum. “Besides, I didn’t get two years with you without realizing that you worry about the future and what comes next. I want you to know that I’m going to be right there next to you. You don’t have to do it alone.”

The two of you hadn’t previously discussed life ahead in concrete details. It was things you’d both like to have with each other. But now with a baby on the way, you weren’t completely shocked as some things started to feel like they had to be more clear and concise between you two. But you’re still not quite sure your ears are hearing Calum’s words fully. “You want to marry me?” 

“Absolutely I do. And I swear that will be a lot more planned,” Calum grins. “And you’ll know when I’m asking for real because I’ll have a ring. I worry that having a kid and trying to think about a wedding is like having three full time jobs. One of those is going to get severely underserviced. And I’d rather not stress you out more or have that added to my stress either. Selfish I know.”

You shake your head. Your fingers move from his elbow up to his bicep. “No, not selfish. I wouldn’t have the capacity for a wedding right now either.”

“So you want to marry me too, huh?” It falls out breathlessly from him, but Calum doesn’t care.

“Yes, I do want to marry you.”

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear.” The two of you share a soft kiss before a short silence fills the space between you. It’s nice to have a small moment of peace. To just enjoy each other’s company before the rumbles of bellies becomes too incessant to ignore. 

________________________

The sink runs from your left and you watch as Calum slips the plate into the drying rack. His attention is fully trained on the sink and dishes in front of him. The question bubbles on your lips, if he wants help, but he’s already said no the last two times. You feel awkward asking a third time. So you’ve resorted to a shameless lusting at the sight of the sleeves rolled up his forearms and the bracelet dangling from his slender wrist. You gifted it to him on your first anniversary together. Now, Calum hardly ever takes it off. 

“I can feel you staring,” Calum calls out from the kitchen. 

“Sue me,” you return. In your huffed retort, you catch the whiff of onions from the dish you and Calum cooked off your breath. “Do you have any gum?”

“If you check my backpack, I think so. Either in the very front pocket or in the very back.” 

You push up from the sofa and find Calum’s backpack in one of the bar seats at the counter. Where Calum’s bag was black, you had a matching one in olive green. His had a tag with Hood and yours had your last name stitched into the front of it. The bag was a gift from Calum after you noted liking his and how many components and pockets. It made a solid travel bag and when you only had to go for a weekend or so, you liked the simplicity of only having one bag instead of a bag and a suitcase. There was no lugging something out of airplane overhead bins, or dragging something behind you as you made tight connections. You could just grab it and go. 

You check the front pocket like instructed and find it empty. Strange to you, because Calum almost always kept a pack of cigarettes there. You look up as your hands continue to rummage through the empty pocket. Was he trying to quit again?  It really hadn’t been a topic of discussion between the two of you about Calum’s smoking since he’d left for the tour. But you wonder, much like with the drinking, if Calum was trying to ease any temptations early on in the pregnancy rather than later. Your fear is that if you do ask too much about it is that whatever progress Calum had made, he’d slipped. 

Not that slipping was a bad thing, but you know Calum can be the hardest on himself out of anyone else. You take the mental note, but don’t speak on it for his sake. If he wanted to talk more about it, he would eventually. But gum--gum is your objective currently. You look back down at the bag and go to the biggest compartment. You find his laptop tucked into the sleeve and in the mesh pocket you spot the green package of gum. As you go to grab the packet, you notice something purple too in the bag. It’s thick. 

Curiosity gets the best of you and you give the object a tug. It’s pliable in your grasp and it crinkles a little. “What are you reading now? Another Ashton recommendation?” you ask with a small tease and pull the book from the depths of the bag. 

“Oh, uh,” Calum starts, watching you pull out the GED prep book from his bag. “It’s not really a book for pleasure.”

You read the title and look up to Calum. 

He gazes back at you, hands still holding the sponge against the last plate. It’s not like he needed your permission. But it was something he wanted to do. Now that he was going to have a kid, Calum didn’t want them thinking education was completely worthless due to him dropping out. It also worried him. He hadn’t been in school for almost a decade. Let alone he hadn’t had an ounce of schooling in America. Well before the practice exam he took, he knew the American social studies and civics information was absolutely going to be the most difficult for him. Even with all the logic and reason Calum had, he still didn’t want to tell people about it. What if he failed the test? What if he never passed it?

“Yeah, I-Well, I guess you know now,” Calum offers with a half hearted chuckle. 

You put the book back into the bag. “I’ll just pretend I didn’t see it. I’m sorry. I should’ve just stuck to finding gum.”

“It’s not that serious, love. No harm, no foul.”

“Cal, really, I am sorry.”

You say it so softly. Even as Calum scrubs the invisible stains, he knows you don’t mean harm. “It’s silly, really.”

“No, it’s not silly.” You walk to the side of the sink that he’s standing and rest one hand on his lower back. He stops his work on the plate and lets it fall back into the soapy water. 

“The English and Science make perfect sense. But I swear to Christ, American History is going to be the death of me. And like, it’s only money to retake the exam for me, for others not really. Which makes no sense. Why are you charging that much for one exam? And it’s so fucking stupid really.” Calum huffs and turns away from the sink to grab the kitchen towel to dry his hands. It's just a test, but somehow the thought sits on Calum’s chest and tightens to the point he’s not sure he’s getting a good breath. 

You follow behind him. “Baby, do you even want to talk about this? We don’t have to. We can take a dip in the pool. Watch a movie. Literally whatever you want,” you plead to his back. 

Calum’s shoulders fall. “What if I fail? What if I do all this and it doesn’t work out?”

With cautious steps, you slip in front of him and take his hands. They’re still just a hair damp but you don’t care. “I know I might not have a say in this literally at all. But I promise you it’s all going to work out.”

It would be easy to say that you’re only promising that because you’ve got a degree from higher education. It would be easy to say that school’s just been something natural for you. But Calum knows even if it might feel good to say those things, they thoughts are coming from a place of fear and of jealousy. “I just don’t want to fail,” he admits. 

“I won’t let you.”

It’s four words. But you say them with so much conviction that he almost believes you. “Pinky promise?”

“If you let me, I pinky promise I’m not going to let you fail.” You bring your pinky around his and lift it to your lips for a kiss. 

“It took me longer sometimes to get things back in school. I never hated it. I just got frustrated with it at times.”

“Can I ask why now? You’ve been more successful than I’ll ever see even with my degree. What makes it different now?”

“Pumpkin,” Calum states, gesturing to your stomach. “They make everything different.” The conversation is soft. Like neither one of you wants to put too much volume behind the words. The words are not heavy. They just feel fragile. This conversation is delicate.

“And you’re positive that you want to do this? You’re on the road right now and we’re still preparing for the baby.”

He knows it’s a lot going on. But there will always be a million things going on in life. And maybe it was less about worrying about the timing of things for Calum. He just didn’t want to feel like a hypocrite to his own child. He wants his child and any future children to see him and know that their pops walked the walk and isn’t just saying things because they sound good or are the right thing to say. Instead, he wants his child to know that everything he believes in he put the work in for it. He put action behind it. Calum wants his child to do the same. Words are just the surface. Action is the substance. 

All of these words and thoughts feel like bees in Calum’s mouth—a jumbled hum and thick around his tongue but Calum’s determined to get it out and see this through. “I know there’s a million different things going on right now. But when we’re on the bus, I study and at the venues too before soundcheck. Days off are trickier because I do want to get out and sight see. But there’s time. In airports, when we’re flying,” he says. 

There’s a moment’s pause as your mouth turns up on one side, the thoughts pulling slowly at your lips. “Maybe once we get through the beginning of this quarter at work, I can shoulder more baby prep stuff with Joy to give you just a little bit of extra time to study too. I found a doula that I’ll start working with later this upcoming week and she’ll be a huge help too.”

“Well, I don’t want you to do it all yourself. I’m already going to be gone for so much of this.”

You shake your head and wrap your arms around his torso. “No, I don’t mind cutting you out. I just mean I think we’re heading into a bit of a waiting period and with Joy and my doula there’s probably going to be a little less either one of us will have to worry about like planning wise. A lot will probably just be on me anyways like physically. I am sort of the host in a way. Should anything outside of that come up, it’ll always be a decision between us.”

“There’s still the baby shower and baby names,” Calum counters. “And I still want to be there even for the things that seem like I can’t directly help with, you know. I’m still here, if not physically all the time.”

“And you will get all sorts of bump updates and if Chickadee kicks my spleen and bladder I’ll tell you all that too,” you reassure. 

“You mean when they kick your spleen and bladder.”

“Smartass,” you snort. 

“Yeah, well too bad for you now. You’re stuck.” 

“Some might say I’m right where I want to be. I won’t tell you who those some are, however.” 

Calum grins, “Some might say I already know.” 

“What if we took today to do some stuff, like venue browsing and then tomorrow we debate baby names? Still get your hands into the mix and then if you want time later to study, there’s still that option too.” 

“Sounds good to me. I’m like 90% sure I got confirmation about the September show. As in, my manager did in fact email me, I just have not checked it thoroughly.” 

Playfully you tap on Calum’s ass in the close hug. “Let’s check on that first and then look for venues. And then start a rough guest list. Like super rough so I can order invites and get addresses.”

“We won’t need them for another few months.” 

“Still the sooner we get even a really rough estimate, the easier it’ll be just to have the stuff now and mail them out later than it would be to rush it all at the last minute.” 

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

 The two of you don’t move from the embrace. The scent of your body wash invades Calum’s nostrils. He’s tried to remember exactly how it smells now that he’s been gone but nothing quite does it or you justice. Why memory is such a faulty mechanism Calum’s never understood and he hates that even for the people he loves the most he will still carry incomplete pictures. Somewhere between guilt and recognition Calum tries to find peace, though much like his memory even he is faulty too. He wants that perfection but he will never have it. 

You rest your head on his shoulder, arms tightening around his waist. The shy and embarrassed look on Calum’s face as you pulled out the book greets your closed eyes. “I’m sorry again,” you whisper. 

Calum doesn’t know what you’re apologizing for--if it’s about the book, if it’s about the responsibility thing--, so Calum stays silent for a moment. He could tell you there’s nothing to apologize for. He could accept the apology. He could say nothing. But none of them feel appropriate. None of them hold the real weight of how thankful he is that you want to make this work for him. None of those options allow him to express gratitude that you’re willing to go above and beyond to accommodate him. “Can I just say thank you instead?” he asks. 

“Calum, if you haven’t noticed in the span of twenty minutes I feel like I’ve committed several crimes against my future husband. I don’t think you should be thanking me.”

“No, like, things happen. I just--I appreciate you being understanding and working with me.”

“It’s how I say I love you,” you whisper. 

“Well, in case I haven’t said it yet today, I love you too."

Tagging: @carma-fanficaddict @one-sweet-gubler @sunflowercalum @wonderlandiswhereitsatyo @markaylafruitcup @fandomfoodiedancer @wiiildflowerrr @icelily13 @busstop

#calum hood #calum hood smut #calum hood imagine #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #dad!calum #h writes #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfic #5 seconds of summer fic #5 seconds of summer sut #calum hood x reader insert #calum 5sos #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #5sos imagine #tw: pregnancy

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: What Spring Does To The Cherry Trees, Chapter 12

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: Narcos

Ship: Javier Peña/OFC (Eva)

Words: 4,892

Tags/warnings (whole thing): slow burn, h/c, a bit of violence (nothing as bad as canon), guns, knife injury, pain and suffering, the loss of a parent (both actually), angst, ptsd, javi being a lil prick but also soft!, (safe) piv sex, masturbation (female AND male), fingering, unprotected piv sex (in the words of the Spice Girls: be a little bit wiser baby, put it on, put it on), pregnancy risk, death of an animal, talk of cancer, so much internal conflict, insomnia, killing coyotes, snake bite, oh my god just get over yourselves already, some eye fucking if you squint, yearningggggggg, descriptions of food, jealousy, oh NOW he has a condom good boy javi, cunnilingus, panic attack, trauma, sexual trauma, trust issues, description of past sexual harassment and assault, descriptions of combat, fellow soldier killed in action, talk about STDs, SO MANY FEELINGSSSSS, confession time, guilt, yo LOVE is mentioned!!, fellatio, more angst, eva is a coward, poor javi you didn't deserve that, JUST BE TOGETHER ALREADY.

Summary for the whole thing: Javier Peña has resigned from the DEA and is back at his dad’s ranch in Texas. Life is slow and uneventful, until an unfamiliar face shows up at the local watering hole one night. Eva is retired from the army and lives in her old pickup truck with more than one ghost. She’s looking for ranch work and when her path crosses Javier’s, maybe they can help each other along in their lives?

Chapter summary: After their date night, are Eva and Javi ready to face what they're feeling for each other?

A/N: You guys. I can't. It's over now. It's finished. I posted the first chapter of this on April 26 last year, over a year ago, and now it's finished. I cannot thank you enough for coming with me, Javi, and Eva on this journey. You readers are the best. Your comments and notes and squees and support has been everything. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Taglist: @chronic-nosebleed, @flora-screeches, @stevie75, @a-trial-run-on-paper, @mswarriorbabe80 @paulalikestuff @apascalrascal @tanzthompson

The darkness is compact around the car when the headlights are turned off. Eva is used to the unpenetrable absence of light from countless nights of sleeping in her car. It’s familiar in the way an old heartache is familiar: not necessary enjoyable but an ingrained part of you so you don’t know anymore who you are without it.

This time is different. The night embraces the pickup truck with Eva and Javi inside, protecting them from any watchful eyes, as she leans over the middle console of the truck’s front seat. One of her hands is cupping the growing bulge of Javi’s crotch, the other is catching him by the neck to bring him to her. Little effort is needed in that: Javi responds immediately, his lips finding hers for a teasingly soft kiss. She lets him decide the pace but the moment his kisses become more demanding, she scrambles into his lap, hungry for more. Cursing slightly at the skirt getting in the way, she pulls it up while adjusting herself. Her re-arranging of her limbs makes her accidentally hit the horn and the short, loud burst of sound breaking the silence and startles both of them.

Javi chuckles as he runs his large hands up her thighs, gathering the fabric of her skirt to help her get settled. “That took care of any wildlife trying to get a closer look.”

“Or alerted that asshole sheriff,” Eva points out dryly before her lips finds his again, effectively silencing him. Handing herself over to pleasure, she follows her instincts as she kisses him, hips moving on his lap, fingers finding his shirt buttons and undoing them to expose his chest and stomach. Javi’s hard against her, his fingertips kneading into her ass cheeks underneath her skirt, his breath heavy in her mouth. When she shifts to reach his belt buckle, Javi stops her.

“Shit…” He looks utterly regretful. “Eva, I don’t have rubbers.”

She groans, head dropping to his shoulder. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Afraid not.”

“Would’ve thought you’d bring condoms on a date…” she mutters as she tries to fight the urge to just go on without protection. Sweet Jesus, she wants him so bad.

“So this was a date?” His voice is quiet in the dark, and lacks all the flirting that she would have expected from him asking her a question like that. As Eva sits up straight, she finds herself missing that intoxicating smell at the crook of his neck: sweat, barbecue smoke, laundry detergent from his shirt. Her eyes are by now more accustomed to the dark and she sees the outline of his handsome face, his sharp nose, the dark eyes.

“Yeah,” she admits simply, “it was a date.”

Her heart is hammering in her chest at this scary acknowledgment, the implications of it too massive for her to think about right now.

“So why didn’t you bring condoms?”

She sees his teeth glint when he bares them in a grin, and she could kiss him for breaking the tension. Instead, she slaps him lightly on his shoulder.

“Oh, shut up.”

Javi chuckles and pulls her in for a kiss, a little like that first one they shared on that fateful day when they first acted on their desires: confidently testing and teasing.

“Let’s go home.”

“In a minute,” she murmurs, finding his belt buckle again and snapping it open. “Let me make you feel good first…”

Moving back to the passenger seat and leaning over to unzip Javi’s jeans, Eva senses hesitation in him. She looks up at him in the dark.

“Is this okay?”

He draws a stuttering breath and she sees his tongue flick out to wet his lower lip.

“I… yeah, I think so.”

“We don’t have to – “

“I just have had a lot of… other women… do this to me. I don’t know how I feel about you doing it,” he tells her quickly, like he wanted to get it out and then forget about it. She senses the shame, feels the magnitude of the confession.

“I don’t mind,” she reassures him. “You think I’d do this if I didn’t want to? You can lead a horse to the water…”

“…I wouldn’t dare to even try to make it drink,” he fills in with a smile that she can hear. She smiles back, relieved that the humour isn’t far away even in this situation. Her hand finds his cheek, directing him to her, and their lips brush against each other before Javi parts hers with his tongue, greedily tasting her. Eva’s hand moves down to his chest, gathering the fabric of his shirt to pull him in, taking his kisses with the same passion he administers them. Finally, her hand lands on his crotch, and she tears her mouth away from his.

“May I?” she pants. Javi’s breath is hot against her cheek, to show the fire and tenderness of a true love, as Neruda wrote, and then his big palm, gentle yet rapacious, covers the back of her hand and presses down.

“Please.”

///

She is the heat of high summer, she is the cool of winter. She is everything when she moves on top of him, strong thighs working as she rides him, head thrown back in pleasure as his old bed creaks and complains. For so many years, Javi only focused on how women made him feel, how they could pleasure him. Now he’s focused on what Eva feels and feels like; her heated skin, her grabby hands, the hungry hug of her pussy around around his girth telling him how much she’s enjoying herself. Her greedy kisses that breathe her moans into his mouth. The way she takes his hand and directs it to where they are connected, wordlessly asking him to rub her clit: her complete surrender to the moment, to him, to her own pleasure.

“Right there, Javi” she gasps when he finds just the right angle, the right pressure. He loves it how she makes his name sound like a dirty prayer: exalted and outrageous at the same time. He loves it when the throes of passion turn her to Spanish.

“Ya me vengo,” she cries, throwing her head back as she moves like she’s possessed, chasing her orgasm as she pants his name, good God, how does she say his name like that, how can she make two syllables sound like that?

Only his previous release into her sweet mouth keeps him from blowing when she clamps down on him, shuddering, back curling as she moans out her climax. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her fingertips digging into the soft skin of his chest. Mesmerized, Javi stares at her, knowing that there is no way he himself looked as divine when she sucked him off in the truck. He had her by the back of her neck, his other hand squeezing the grab handle above the door, and he had had to keep himself from bucking up into her mouth. He was loath at first to have her suck his dick; it reminded him too much of the man he was in Colombia. And at the same time, he couldn’t wait to feel her lips wrapped around him. He wanted it so bad, and her willingness to do it only made him want it more. The way she asked him made him want it.

And now, when she falls onto the bed besides him, heaving a deep sigh, he wants her again. In the faint lamp light, he turns his head and looks at her. Her forehead is shiny and he can feel the puffs of breath against his skin. For every time her chest rises he feels the flesh of her breasts on his arm. He wants this, this and more, every night, every day. Softly, he presses a kiss to her forehead, tasting salt and night air.

Eva hums, her eyes blinking open.

“You need a moment?” he asks her, eager to be inside her again, feel her, love her.

“Make it two,” she acknowledges with a sigh. Javi nods and shifts his arm from under her, and Eva rolls over onto her back. Her small breasts catch Javi’s eye, and he can’t resist leaning over her to lick and nibble on first one nipple, then the other. The buds are stiff in his mouth, yet yielding when he bites down gently, and Eva reacts with an arched back and a moan.

“Javi…”

Her nipples knot even more when her skin pimples over from his touch. Javi’s cock twitches in anticipation and he moves down, licks into her navel, admires the way her abs twitch before moving further down.

Eva closes her legs and shoves him. “I said two moments,” she scoffs playfully. Javi glances up at her before sliding his hand between her thighs, prying them apart.

“And I say now…”

She rolls her eyes in mock irritation before turning over onto her stomach and getting up on all fours. Quickly taking his position behind her, Javi checks that the condom is still securely on, before he slides his wet cock between her slick lips. He bumps into the clit, teasing more sounds out of her before finally pushing in, relishing her breathless affirmation. His eyes fall shut and his jaw grows slack when he moves in her, feels every inch of her pussy, finally, like he’s been away from it for years, not minutes. Eva mewls and it drives him insane. He pulls her up, close, covers her neck with kisses, her tits with his hands, groans against her fragrant skin for each heavenly thrust that makes her fingers grasp onto his thigh and shoulder for a hold. She twists her head to reach his mouth for kisses that he drowns her with, and when she starts to move with his thrusts, he sits back on his heels and lets her ride him again, stares enchanted at her ass and its rhythmic bouncing.

Mierda, he’s going to blow soon, and he doesn’t want it to be over yet. He wants to keep fucking her, wants to feel her, hear her…

Headlights hit the bedroom window and the sound of his father’s pickup truck driving up the dirt road to the house makes him swear out loud.

“Fuck!” He grabs Eva’s hips, gulping when she squeezes him.

“Keep fucking me,” she gasps, coming onto all fours again, “don’t stop, Javi, fuck me!”

Fuck. Fuck. He thrusts into her, roughly, hard, chasing his high, grabbing her hips as he pounds into her, and his boiling blood sings in his ears, a little more, just a little more…

No.

He slows down, panting heavily, trying to catch his breath and thoughts alike. No, this isn’t what he wants, how he wants her.

“Javi?” Her voice is weak, wanton, wondrous, her eyes half closed when she turns her head to look at him. When Chucho’s truck door slams shut, Javi pulls out and lies down next to Eva, tugging her down to him. The dreamy expression on her face changes into wariness, and Javi combs his fingers through her dark locks before he kisses her sweetly.

“I don’t want it like that,” he tells her in a low voice as the front door opens and closes. They lie still and quiet for a moment, listening to Chucho’s booted feet carry him through the kitchen to the bathroom.

“Like what?” Eva whispers, her voice faltering. He can see the confusion in the honeyed shimmer of her brown eyes. Their sex has been passionate so far, if not rough then at least energetic. Their vigor has made not only them sing, but also whatever furniture they’ve assailed with their exercises. And it has been good, and he has no regrets. But something changed earlier tonight, when he held her to him and they moved together to that song.

“I don’t want to hide,” he tries to explain, still keeping his voice down. “I don’t want secret, stolen fucks.”

“I’m not gonna let your father hear us,” Eva protests. They hear the toilet flush and Chucho’s footsteps move from the bathroom to his bedroom. Silence descends over the house anew, and Javi shakes his head.

“Nor do I, but what I mean is, I don’t want to fuck you like we just met in a bar and will never see each other again after tonight.”

He slides his hand over the curve of her thigh and lifts her leg, hooking it over his hip before prying into her again. His forehead comes to a rest to hers as he presses as far into her as she can, enjoying her grip of his shoulders.

“I want to make love to you like we’re only just getting started.”

For a panicked second, he thinks he’s gone too far, but then she sighs his name and her lips find his in a soft brush. He moves in her slowly now, savouring it in a completely new way, all the while receiving her deep yet unhurried kisses. When Eva takes hold of his shoulders and rolls over onto her back, he follows her, ending up on top. For a moment, he hesitates, face hovering above hers, searching her eyes for even the slightest hint of hesitation. He finds none, only a velvety shimmer.

“It’s okay,” she whispers before kissing him again, and he resumes the relaxed roll of his hips against hers. Trying to keep as much of his weight off her as possible, he finds the feeling he was chasing, the sense of things falling into place. This is how he wanted it: like they’ve got all the time in the world. Eva coming to him for pleasure, confident that he will kiss her neck when she throws her head back, that his arm will go around her thigh when she pulls her leg up to his waist, taking him deeper.

He finds himself groaning her name just as she moaned his before and when the bed starts to creak, Eva pulls him down on top of her, glues his sticky, sweaty body to her equally flushed form and buries her fingers in his hair when he hides his face in her neck. He’s close now, so close, and her breathless whispers in Spanish help throw him over the edge. He snaps his hips a couple of errant times before his strength is drained and he slides off of her, barely remembering to hold onto the condom when he pulls out.

The silence is punctuated only by their audible breaths slowly diminishing, and as soon as Javi can speak again, he asks her if she’s okay.

“Perfecta,” she slurs, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Javi draws a deep sigh, his arm curling around her to pull her in for a soft kiss before he has to get up and throw away the condom. When he rejoins her in bed, he has to stop and look at her: naked, sleepy, a small smile on her lips as she drifts off to sleep.

He’s falling for her, hopelessly and irrevocably. He may have spent half the summer lusting for a quick, uncomplicated fuck, but that has changed and now he wants this, right here and now. He wants the perfect peace he feels when he climbs back into bed and pulls the covers over both of them before the AC has the chance to chill their sweaty bodies.

Eva’s eyes flutter open and she shifts slowly.

“I gotta go,” she whispers, coming to a sit. Javi shakes his head, finding her wrist and pulling her back down.

“Stay the night.” He knows it’s all he can say, or he’ll send her running for the hills. He has to stay away from sentiment, focus on the here and now instead.

“I need sleep and we both know I’m not going to get it here,” Eva explains softly. Javi doesn’t want to believe her, but knows he can’t insist too much.

“Eva…”

“I’m fine. I’m just tired, it’s been a long day.”

She’s out of bed the next second, collecting her clothes. Before she leaves his room, she comes over for one last kiss. Taking her time with it, she lets his tongue explore her mouth, wrestle with her tongue, take it from goodbye back to hello before she pulls away. There is something haunting in her eyes when she licks her lips, as if she’s trying to catch the lingering flavor of him.

“I had a really nice time, Javi,” she murmurs, planting a final, quick kiss to his lips before she steals out and back to her room.

The bed smells of her, of them together. Javi lets that lull him into sleep, but it’s a restless slumber.

///

Eva’s heart is beating hard against her ribs when she closes the door behind her and leans against it, her clothes falling to the floor.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This is bad.

The warm comfort of Javi’s bed, of his presence, are quickly draining away, leaving her feeling empty and filled with dread at the same time.

She let her guard down. She let him get close. She enjoyed herself, the night, the festivities in town, his company. The sex was no longer meaningless and she found herself wanting him beyond the pleasure he could give her. She wanted his company. She wanted to wake up in his arms.

Getting attached was never a good idea. She had gone a long time avoiding it, but she has grown careless. Javi made her grow careless. Chucky made her grow careless. Chucho and his café de olla, his unspoken appreciation. This faraway place.

Now the tears come, quiet but profuse. She sags down, back still against the door, and pulls her bare legs up to her naked chest, hugging herself as if it would bring any comfort. The moonlight bathes the room in silver, just enough for her to see that dreadful John Travolta poster on the wall, and her own duffle bag next to the bed. A few clothes on the bed. Her boots that she wore on the day when she first kissed Javi, before shooting Chucky. She’s worn those boots all summer, it’s her only pair. She wore them on the night she met Javi, when her arm was slashed and her truck wrecked. She wore them when she asked Johnny to come to the cabin with her. She wore them every day when Javi brought her and the other farmhands lunch.

Javi. Javi. Javi. Her mind keeps returning to him, to his kisses, his touches. The way he held her when they danced. She hasn’t danced with anyone since high school, not wanted to, not felt the need. With Javi, however, it just happened, because it felt like a normal, nice thing to do. And everything changed with that dance.

It’s too much, too complicated. It’s not going to work. She can’t do this. Bad things happen to people she cares about, and she can’t let anything happen to Javi.

She cries until she’s all out of tears, her head aching and her eyes burning. Her body is cold and stiff when she finally gets up, shivering as she tiptoes to bed on wobbly legs, and hides underneath all the covers.

When dawn comes she hasn’t slept a wink, but knows what she must do. She gets out of bed, takes a quick shower, and picks out clean clothes. The skirt and blouse from the night before are carefully folded and put into the bag. The toiletry bag goes the same way. She makes the bed neatly, leaving behind her a tidy room.

It’s for the best.

She goes out to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, finding Chucho already up and making it.

“Good morning,” he says simply, like he’s done every morning for the past few months. Eva smiles.

“Morning.”

They prepare breakfast together in silence, like they have done many mornings before. Chucho’s company is fatherly, which makes Eva long for it. Another thing that gets unnecessarily complicated.

“Chucho?”

He hums to let her know he’s listening.

“I’ve decided to leave. Today. Right after breakfast.”

The old man pauses in his tracks, before resuming movement and bringing toast to the table. He looks thoughtfully at her, a world of thoughts passing by his wrinkled face, before nodding.

“Eat up. You’ll have a long drive before you, I suspect.”

He doesn’t ask her why, or try to convince her to stay. He just gets up, goes to the office, and returns with a check that he hands over to her.

“Your wages.”

“Chucho, no. I’ve had room and board.”

“You’ve done so much more.”

She eventually accepts the check, folding it once and sliding it into her back pocket. Chucho sits down on his usual chair, sighing deeply.

“We’ll miss you.”

///

“I’m leaving after breakfast.”

That’s all she says. Javi tries to talk some sense into her, even asks Chucho to back him up. The old man just shakes his head.

“We don’t even have an oral agreement,” he tells Javi, seemingly unaware of him being in pieces. “We’ll find someone else to help us. Eva can leave whenever she wants to.”

Javi feels sick from his gut and heart changing places, his life turning upside down. He thought he had her. He thought she wanted him. And now…

He confronts her in the kitchen after Chucho has left. Eva refuses to see reason, his reason. Despite himself, he says harsh things to her, calls her a coward, accuses her of running away. To his chagrin, she doesn’t bite, just look disapprovingly at him. He wants her to fight him on this, fight for them.

“No, Javi,” she tells him, annoyingly patient and serene. “What we had was good, but it’s not meant to last. It’s better this way.”

Her calm demeanor is contagious. Finally, Javi accepts her decision. He even helps her carry her bag to the truck.

“Thank you,” she tells him, finally looking a little remorseful. “I’m really sorry, Javi. I wish I didn’t have to do this.”

“You don’t have to.”

“We’ll just end up hurt, both of us.”

“That’s life,” Javi points out, still hoping she’ll change her mind. “You can’t keep running away.”

“I’m not running away, I’m just being responsible. Trust me, this is for the best.”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say anything. They stand there for a moment, looking at each other, before Eva clears her throat.

“Well…”

“Bye,” Javi tells her abruptly and turns around, stomping up the stairs like a little child to whom the whole world is unfair and unforgiving. The screen door slams shut in that unfulfilling way and he has to go straight to the kitchen sink and run ice cold water over his hands before patting some of it onto his forehead. He hears the truck engine rev into life and shortly after, it drives off.

She’s gone. Just like that. Like nothing ever mattered at all.

The house feels lifeless. The apples in the bowl on the side table smell rotten. From the stable, Pablo neighs in frustration.

Javi has never felt so alone in his entire life.

///

Eva turns on the radio, smiles widely when a well-known, old hit song comes on. The weight in her gut has lifted, she feels lighter, stronger for each mile she puts between herself and Big River Ranch.

This was the right thing to do.

Oh, here I go

Don't let me go, hold me down…

She hums along with the song and for every line, she grows more light-footed on the gas pedal.

And I'm ashamed of running away

From nothing real, I just can't deal with this

I'm still afraid to be there

Among your hounds of love

And feel your arms surround me

I've always been a coward

And never know what's good for me…

She shakes her head to clear it from unwanted thoughts. No, not thoughts: feelings.

Help me darling, help me please…

The car comes to a slow stop on the side of the road and she recognizes the rock next to the road: it’s where that asshole crashed her truck in March.

Her truck is fixed; nothing on it suggests that it nose-dived into a rock barely six months ago. Eva changed the damaged parts, repaired the rest. The truck is now as reliable as it always was.

Her gaze falls down to the red scar on her wrist. The skin sometimes feels tight around it but it’s been weeks since it last bothered her. It healed up well enough with little assistance from her.

Things heal. Life is only a borrowing of bones, as Neruda put it. Eva finds herself wanting to ask more of the honey and the twilight.

And just like that, she makes a u-turn and drives with a peculiar, new sense of purpose, brows slightly furrowed. Her sunglasses put a dark filter on the world.

As she parks outside the main house, Javier steps out onto the porch, frowning, lips forming that thoughtful pout she has seen him sport countless times. It’s cute, a word she never thought she would use to describe a man, but Javi’s pout is nothing but cute.

Ascending the stairs, she meets his curious gaze.

“You forget something?” he asks. Eva comes to a stop in front of him.

“It’s with. What spring does with the cherry trees.”

“Excuse me?” Javi is not following.

“When you read me the Neruda poem, you said I want to do to you what spring does to the cherry trees. But it’s with.”

“I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees?” A glint of recognition in his eyes, but he’s still frowning. “So?”

“You said it wrong,” she explains patiently, as if to a child. “There’s a big difference between to and with. To suggests that the other party is passive, with means it’s a mutual act, it’s something they do together. They help each other change.”

“You returned just to tell me I was wrong about a poem?” There’s a sharpness to his voice, but Eva can see the twitch in the corners of his mouth, threatening to tug his lips upwards in a grin.

“You got it wrong,” she shrugs, pushing the shades up onto his head. The world comes into vibrant color, the brown of his eyes the most vivid one.

“And I thought, well… Chucho needs my help, really,” she goes on. “You’re a terrible ranch hand, Javi. You’re trying, but you’re just the worst. I know you’ve been away for a decade but there’s a limit to what your father should have to put up with, and besides, I have to make sure you don’t kill off Dolly right away – “

Javi makes an amused face and shakes his head, then dips his head and presses his lips to hers. His hand rises to the back of her head, bringing her in, silencing her with his mouth, drinking her in like he has wanted to since he first saw her. Eva kisses him back, hands landing on his narrow hips to pull him against her.

He doesn’t taste of cigarettes, but of sun-warm tomatoes.

Every day you play with the light of the universe.

Subtle visitor, you arrive in the flower and the water,

You are more than this white head that I hold tightly

as a bunch of flowers, every day, between my hands.

You are like nobody since I love you.

Let me spread you out among yellow garlands.

Who writes your name in letters of smoke among the stars of the south?

Oh let me remember you as you were before you existed.

Suddenly the wind howls and bangs at my shut window.

The sky is a net crammed with shadowy fish.

Here all the winds let go sooner or later, all of them.

The rain takes off her clothes.

The birds go by, fleeing.

The wind.  The wind.

I alone can contend against the power of men.

The storm whirls dark leaves

and turns loose all the boats that were moored last night to the sky.

You are here.  Oh, you do not run away.

You will answer me to the last cry.

Curl round me as though you were frightened.

Even so, a strange shadow once ran through your eyes.

Now, now too, little one, you bring me honeysuckle,

and even your breasts smell of it.

While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies

I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.

How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me,

my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running.

So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes,

and over our heads the grey light unwinds in turning fans.

My words rained over you, stroking you.

A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body.

Until I even believe that you own the universe.

I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.

I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.

Pablo Neruda

#my fic #narcos fanfic #javier peña #javier peña x ofc

[zalrb]

OTH 2X22 REWATCH REVIEW

 1. IIIIIIIIIII DON’T WANNA BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN WHAT I’VE BEEN TRYNA BE LATELYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

2.

3. At least she was less exhausting for a few episodes.

4. “Game to 11? I’ll give you 10 and the ball?” Sometimes Lucas is funny.

5. Are Delena shippers just Dan Scott in disguise?

6. I like how Karen is just walking on glass.

7. Lmao, Nicki lied under oath so that means that Jake gets Jenny until a new hearing but Jake literally kidnapped his child and hid from the police, they would not put Jenny in his custody. I still love how neither of these people have involved parents.

8.

Because you’re not funny, Whitey.

9. I like how anyone can just get into see Haley by saying they know her. She’s supposed to be a rising star.

10. Look, I’m all for living your life and having fun with whoever you want but the husband you apparently love crashed a race car then gave you annulment papers, Haley.

11. “We’re just kidding around like ...” “We used to do?” I’ve never seen you two do anything remotely like this.

12. “I miss you so much” there are phones, you know. And webcams. You guys could’ve been talking if you wanted to.

13. “For every sentence you write of your essay, I’ll give you a kiss.” Ugh, either makeout fully or leave me alone to do my final, please.

14. “Hey, Nathan, I’m sorry I’m happy.” OH MY GOD, PEYTON WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP? Either DON’T tell him Jake’s getting out of jail and call Brooke to tell her the news instead or just own the fact that you’re happy. YOU ARE INSUFFERABLE.

15. I like how there are NO guards in this scene. At the very least the guards should be restraining Jake while he tries to explain to them that Nicki is kidnapping his child who he kidnapped first.

16. “You know he told me not to come home, right?” Girl. GO ANYWAY.

17. “You stuck by me when I left the river court” right but no one else was getting emotionally slaughtered in the process of you doing that. But whatever.

18. No one is asking Haley for an autograph.

19. “But you can come into the devil’s lair. Have sex with Chris Keller. Whatever!” Not gonna lie, I always laughed at that line.

20. “Here’s the deal, Brooke Davis thinks that Chris Keller can self-serve Chris Keller in other words you can---” “Hey Brooke!” “I can’t breathe ... there’s no room in Chris’ ego. CAN WE GO?” she has the best lines on the show.

21. Lucas is so nonthreatening.

22. I like how easily the glass in Dan’s office can shatter.

23. “I don’t understand why it has to be music or Nathan” well exactly. 

24. Awww Jeyton break up. Now, I know the point is that Jake is saying she deserves better than being with someone who goes to jail or has to go on the run and who doesn’t have a stable life and that’s why he breaks up with her but it’s summer now, she legit could’ve just gone looking for Jenny with him for two months and then gone back to school but it’s fine.

25. “You’re too amazing to be carrying this around, you’re too full of greatness.” I mean, I guess.

26. Tbh though, the acting could use work, Hilarie’s like squeal cries aren’t working for me and Bryan’s pained face doesn’t have the necessary nuance but when they hug? THAT’S when I really feel how torn up they are

27. "May angels lead you in...” oh my God, I remember on one of our high school trips to the States, the boys came into our hotel room to hang out and they played this song on their guitars. They also played “Chasing Cars” “Hey there Delilah” and of course “Wonderwall.” Fucking high school. 

28. I think I did a Stefan and Lexi video to this song. I did. Oh God, it’s so bad.

29. Always loved this moment.

30. BEST SCENE. “It’s OK that you’re into Peyton” because he looks at her like that is the DUMBEST thing I’ve heard in my LIFE, Brooke. MY. LIFE.

31. Keith and Karen are just not believable as THAT ship. Like when Karen whispers Andy’s name, the way she closes her eyes?

 I was glad  they eventually ended up together.

32. But Andy rolling up in a limo is so fucking extra.

33. “Did you know that you’re bleeding?” “Yeah, it’s kinda weird. It should probably hurt but I don’t feel anything.” SYMBOLISM.

34. I like how The Wreckers are the bigger names in this whole thing but Chris and Haley take up most of the space on the poster.

35. “Shaw was right, as we strain to grasp the things we desire” SHUT UP, LUCAS. Even Peyton’s voiceover is less insufferable than yours.

[non-stop-imagines]

The Man with the Metal Arm (Part 13)

Here’s Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Black!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Cute, slightly suggestive, mention of ex, plot thickens

A/N: Heeyyyy, how y'all doin?? 😎 I know it’s been more than a while since I have written, and I apolagize for that. School, as always, got me all the way fucked up, luckily summer courses have started which are shorter and (for me) all online soooo. Also my 21st b-day is coming 🥳 so you know I’m excited for that. Anyway, I started writing this like half way through TFATWS bc Bucky with personality was good inspiration. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy. Love you all!💛❤️💛❤️💛

Man with the Metal Arm TAGS LIST: @storibambino @cutiepiemimi13 @this-chan @elaindeereads @letsshamelessqueen-m @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @shakzer00 @lahjatheblackbrat

UNIVERSAL TAGS LIST: @beautifulwisdom2001 @thottio @jetaimeamore @mixedfandxms @here-for-your-bullshit

Requests are Closed, if you want to be added to the tags list for this series or wrting with Bucky in general, just ask.

Masterlist

A couple weeks later you find yourself moving around your place, picking up dishes here, wiping off a surface there, moving to the music of your 60s Playlist that played to the lone earphone in your right ear. Louise was taking a nap in her room and has been since 4 that afternoon. It was now 6 pm. Were you gonna regret it later when all she'll want to do is play or watch a movie or dance to music at 11 pm? Possibly. But right now all you know is that the house was quiet, everyone you know and love are safe, and tomorrow was one of the few Saturdays you had off and all you were planning to do was watch TV in either the comfy pajamas you own or in your underwear. You still had to choose, and maybe you could just have Peter watch Lou. If so you should text him now. Your thoughts began to drift, wondering if May would be there to help Peter, wondering if you could plan some sort of day out with her and Imani soon, but the thoughts were brought to an abrupt halt when you hear a knock at the door. You quickly move over to look out the peephole, swiftly pulling back to open the door when you see that it's Bucky.

"Hey, how are you doing today?" Bucky chuckles as you jump into his arms, squeezing his neck in a tight hug. "Woah there, we just talked last night."

"Yeah, but I haven't had affectionate contact, or any physical contact for that matter, from the man that I love for 3 weeks. I'm touch starved, you can’t blame me.” You speak into his neck, taking hefty sniffs of the cologne you love so much and rubbing your face on his few day old stubble. Bucky continues to hold onto your clinging body as he takes a few steps inside your place to close the door.

“Fine, I guess. Where’s Louise?” Bucky sets you down and lightly pulls at a few coils that stuck out of your pulled back puff as you continue to rub at the stubble that adorned his face and study his tired eyes. He always looked tired, even if he had a full night's sleep.

“Taking a nap.” He cocks an eyebrow at your word with unsaid concern. “I know she’ll be up all night, but I’ve gotten so much done.” You whine, gesturing to the kitchen. That doesn’t stop Bucky from looking around the entrance and the living room, which is currently slightly cluttered with Lou’s toys and coloring apparatuses. “I know, I’m not working as fast as I should be, I may have taken a couple short naps here and there.” Bucky just sighs and gives you a lingering peck on the forehead before moving around you to start picking up toys.

“What are you doing for dinner?” Bucky stands and turns to look at you, stretching and groaning as he does.

“I ordered pizza.” You smile, rubbing his jaw as you head back to the kitchen.

Right as Bucky closed the door after accepting the pizza from the delivery person, almost as if it was staged, a small voice came from the door of Lou’s room.

“Do we get pi- BUCKY!” The little girl with her hair still askew, sprints to Bucky and clings onto his right leg.

“Woah there, Puff. Let me set this down first.” You watch through the pass-through from the kitchen as Bucky limps over to the living room table. “What is it with you and your mom and clinging to me today.” A squealing giggle is earned from his comment before he finally sets the pizza down, swiftly picking up Lou in return and swinging her around.

“Is Uncle Steve and Uncle Sam coming, too?” Lou runs her little hands through Bucky’s hair as Bucky’s eyes met yours before he made a choice decision.

“Uh, no. I thought it could just be you, me and your mom.” Lou’s hands stop what they’re doing and Bucky watches as tears well up in her eyes. The next moment consisted of a hard toddler yank to Bucky’s hair, that had you running in to pull her off of him and setting her on the ground.

“What in the world, was that?” Your voice was stern, but it wasn’t a yell, and it definitely held your four year old’s attention.

“I want to see Uncle Sam and Uncle Steve.” Lou inexpertly crosses her arms and scrunches her face. The attitude doesn’t go fully unchecked when you change your stance to match hers, shifting your weight to one side and crossing your arms, but instead your face sported a cocked eyebrow.

“Fix your tone, little girl.” Silence rests between the two of you, with Bucky standing off to the side, not knowing what to do. “Now,” you squat down at first to meet your daughter's eyeline, but when your knees begin to fail on you, you go for a straight kneel before you continue. “I know you like when Steve and Sam come around. They are a lot of fun aren’t they?” Your question receives a small head nod which allows you to continue. “Your Uncle Steve and Uncle Sam love you very much, but they can’t always be here. I will see if they can come over soon, but you cannot do this again. When you want something, you ask nicely, and if you can’t have what you want right now, what you just did is a no-no. Now apologize to Bucky for pulling his hair.”

“Sorry Bucky.” Lou’s voice trembles as she walks over to Bucky. He picks her up onto his hip and hugs her close after using his unoccupied hand to help you up off the ground.

“Hey, kiddo. It’s okay. I’m fine.” Bucky’s calm voice soothes her before the crying even starts.

“Hey, let me take her. Can you go get some plates?” Bucky nods and hands Louise off, but fluffs her hair once before he goes to get the plates. “I love you, babygirl. So much.” You bring her close to kiss and take a whiff of her scent that honestly hasn’t changed since she was born. “You want some pizza?” Lou nods lightly so you set her down on the couch and head back the kitchen to get everyone something to drink, right as Bucky comes back with the plates. “Show Bucky what piece you want.”

A couple hours later, two empty pizza boxes laid empty on the table and a tired four year old layed asleep with her head on Bucky’s thigh and her feet occasionally kicking you. “Thirteen hours of labor and this is the thanks I get.” You grumble under your breath after receiving one last kick before standing up to clean the dinner dishes. You take one last look at Bucky and his loving gaze on your daughter before heading back to the kitchen. As you put the cups in the sink you laugh at the devious thankfulness you have for your daughter's temper tantrum and crying earlier because that never fails to knock her out and hopefully her circadian rhythm will take over.

“I’m gonna go put her down.” You jump out of your thoughts when you hear Bucky’s voice behind you at the entrance of the kitchen. “Oh, sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I was just, in my head.” You shake the water off your hands and turn around. “Uh, yeah. Go ahead and put her down, if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all. Uh, do you want me to wrap her hair?” He gently adjusts her on his hip, freezing when she shifted in her sleep.

“Nah, not necessary. It might wake her up, and I don’t want her to wake up. I might regret this choice later but right now, I don’t care.” You finish your spiel with your lightly bubble covered hand against the counter behind you. Bucky just slowly nods and heads back to your daughter’s bedroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you found yourself in your room, quietly making out with your boyfriend. He sat on the foot of your bed, hands gripping your ass as your tongues fervently danced together. Once the moment to come up for air came, you took that opportunity to push Bucky back onto the bed, and then sent a welcomed attack on his lips that had him pulling you closer than what would be considered humanly possible. After some time, his lips moved down to your neck, the scratch of his facial hair sending goosebumps all over your body.

“Ah, James…” The words quietly drip from your mouth, and the vibration from his chuckled response causes you to moan quietly.

“Oh, it’s James now. Okay.” His right hand begin to trail up and down your torso, gently lifting your shirt until its finally up over your head. He flips the two of you over and sits back on his heels to get a look at you. “Say my name again. Please.” His voice is deep, sultry, and you watch as he slowly gets up from the bed and move to the foot of the bed, lightly griping your leggings.

“James.” Your words start Bucky’s removal of you pants, hooded eyes keeping your gaze on his, but after a few seconds the removal stops.

“Again.” You do as told and he continues, slowly pulling at leggings with help from you shimmying. This repeating continued until your pants are finally off, but a small detail that Bucky didn't pay attention to was how your words began to slur together and fade off, and how your shimmies became less vigorous, so by the time Bucky had removed his own shirt and pants, all he saw when he looked up was you asleep, head fallen to the side and a small amount of drool already escaping from your mouth. “She did seem pretty tired.” Bucky goes into the top right drawer of dresser to get one of your big night shirts then reaching into the adjacent drawer filled with his own items that he brings over whenever he stays the night for a pair of pajama pants. He pulls on your night shirt for you and tries his best to tie on your scarf before finally climbing into bed next to you, pulling you into his body before finally falling asleep.

Lou’s little feet pad along the wooden floor, first to your side of the bed to attempt to wake you up, but when the effort led to a fruitless reward, she moves over to where Bucky was laying.

"Bucky." Lou begins to shake at his back which was currently facing her direction, and once she sees him stir slightly she continues. "Bucky, wake up Bucky." She climbs into the bed and sits on her tucked under legs and starts to play with his hair again. He got a rather drastic hair cut a week ago, and she's just been trying to familiarize herself with the style. The light touch of her fingers and the sing-songy way say repeated his name eventually had him awake enough to flip over and look at her.

"What's up, Puff?" He wraps an arm around her as she pushes the Rouge hairs on his forehead out of his face.

"I'm hungry." Her focus still on Bucky’s forehead.

"What time is it?" Bucky tries his hardest to stall fully getting out of bed, but deep down he knew it was a frivolous effort.

"Time for breakfast." She now begins to lightly tap out a beat on Bucky's head, so he answers quickly to get it to stop.

"Okay, okay. Go turn on something for us to watch. I'll be out there in a second." The child immediately leaped of the bed and ran to the living room, giving Bucky room to look at his phone on his night stand for the time. 6:00 am. He slowly makes his way out of the bed, pulling on his shirt that was still sprawled out on the floor and heads out to the kitchen to start breakfast, but not before giving you a light peck on the forehead.

Your internal alarm clock had you stretching and reaching for your phone at 8:45 am. It just so happened that as you scrolled through your notifications, eyeing texts from Imani and Sherry about their dates with Steve and Sam respectively, you nose catches a whiff a heavenly smelling breakfast, and the equally heavenly sound of both Louise’s and Bucky’s laughter from outside your bedroom door. So after going through and responding to said texts, you get up and pull some shorts on under your nightshirt and head out to the kitchen.

"Hi, mommy! Me and Bucky are making breakfast." Lou's little head pops out from around Bucky’s torso. “He let me pour the waffle dough.”

“It’s called batter, Puff.” Bucky turns his head to smile at you. “Morning.”

“Morning.” You walk over and lightly kiss his lips then look over his shoulder to see the waffle iron closed and steaming. “Be careful, baby.” You feel your child’s, now daunting, curls, and watch them bounce as she nods to display that she was listening.

“Hey, we should go on a date tonight.” You blink from behind the refrigerator door, watching as Bucky unknowingly lifts Lou off of the step stool and moves the waffle iron next to the sink but back toward the backsplash.

“Uh… okay. Where did this come from?” You grab orange juice from the fridge and close the door, reaching in the upper cabinets to grab cups.

“It would be a redo of our first date.” You totally forgot the night was cut short due to Louise being sick. The part of the date that had occurred was nice, and having him there to help you was also great, but it did suck that a whole portion of the night had to be cut.

“Oh yeah. Well, uhh, if you have something in mind, I just have to see if I can get someone to babysit at such short notice.” You finally sit down at the table with your plate filled with a waffle, a couple pieces of bacon and some eggs.

“Well, I can tell you that Imani and your other friend, uh-ah-Sherry, yeah, they won’t be available.” You look up from scrolling through you phone with a playfully cocked eyebrow.

“And you know this how?” You take a bite of waffle, eagerly awaiting his answer.

“Well, Sam is still trying to woo Sherry, and apparently,” He raises his hands in defense before continuing. “Apparently, Imani has been keeping Steve very busy.” You nearly choke on the waffle your were chewing on trying to stifle your laugh, but the noise and the subject at hand earned your daughters attention from the living room.

"Do I get to see Uncle Steve and Uncle Sam today?!" Her question came out as an excited squealing as she whipped her head back to look at you two.

"Uh, no, babygirl. Not today, but you might be able to hang out with Peter. How does that sound?” You watch as a bright smile spreads across your daughters face and her curls begin to bounce as she hops up from her spot at the coffee table.

“Peter! Yay Peter! My boyfriend!” You and Bucky both stop and look at each other, stifling your laughs.

“You like Peter, huh?” You finish your text asking Peter of he’s free to babysit tonight, and take another bite of waffle.

“Yeah, he’s my bestfriend!” You nod, still holding in a chuckle as Louise smiles brightly.

At that moment you receive a text back from Peter:

Peter Parker (Babysitter):

I would love to watch Louise tonight! I just have some homework to do that I can do while I watch her. But is it ok if I come over there to watch her? May has a date tonight.

Perfect, now you don't have to take Lou there then come back and you can just leave from your place instead. You answered Peter confirming plans and then look back up at Bucky. "Wait, where exactly are we going? I haven't seen you make any reservations recently." You finally place your phone down to finish your breakfast.

"We won't need them." He just give you a toothy grin as he gets up from his seat to clean up his spot. Then you watch him with your signature cocked eyebrow as he comes around to give you a kiss on your scarved hair. "Always so skeptical."

"Fine then Mr. 'I Got This', what should I wear to this date that you got all planned out?" You get up from your spot to clean your dishes and Bucky heads to the living room to say bye to Louise. He thinks for a second before answering.

"Remember the outfit you wore when we took Louise to the giant Toys R Us? The outfit with the cardigan and the jeans?" You nod from your spot as you continue cleaning dishes. "Something like that, kinda casual."

"Well, thank you for being so specific." He nods and finally gets to Louise, whose focus was being held by Saturday morning cartoons, in this case it was Looney Toons.

"Hey, Puff. I'm heading out but I'll be back tonight to take your Mommy out, okay?" He picks her up so she could be at eyeline with him.

"Okay. Where are you taking her?" Lou's hands wander back to Bucky's hair, the little hands rubbing at the short hair bringing Bucky a sort of peace.

"It's a surprise. But I'll tell you all about it right after, promise." Lou nods at Bucky's words then gives him a kiss on the cheek goodbye, that being Bucky's cue to set her back down. "Alright, I'll be back to pick you up around 7, alright?" Bucky's keys jingle as he pulls his shoes back on.

"Okie dokie, love you." You speak to him from the sink thought the pass through.

"Love you too. Both of you." And with these words he leaves, leaving a hopeful feeling for tonight's festivities.

It was now 6:30, and you were still stationed in the bathroom, a bit past starting your make up.

"Ms. Y/L/N, can Louise have some ice cream? She keeps asking and I just wanted to check." Peter pops his head into the bathroom. "You look very nice by the way."

"Thank you, Peter. Um, has she eaten all of her dinner yet?" You go back to dusting some shimmery maroon eyeshadow along your eyelid.

"Well, it looks like it, but I have an odd suspicion that she hid her broccoli." Peter responds, still only having his head poked into the bathroom, holding onto the door frame.

"She would do that." You sigh, giving your eyes and hand a break. "Lightly grill her to make sure she did eat her broccoli. If she did actually eat her broccoli, then yeah she can have ice cream. 2 scoops."

"And if she didn't eat the broccoli?" Peter's face contorted to a questioning expression.

"Hold out on he a bit. She'll crack and eat the vegetables. Then you can give her some. Have you had anything to eat? Dinner or anything?" You go back to swiping on eyeshadow, now a deeper brown color.

"I got a small pack of powdered donuts before I got here, but I really haven't had anything since lunch." You stop again watch look at him, chuckling as he begins to cower under your gaze.

"Peter, go eat some food. Fridge is open to you, okay? I don't want you starving while you're over here." You take glances back at him using the mirror, smirking at the smile growing on his face.

"Okay, I will. Thank you Ms. Y/L/N." Peter's head finally disappears from the door frame and you hear the boy questioning your four year old, knowing either way he will most likely just give her ice cream.

Eventually 6:30 became 6:55 and you found yourself fixing little bits of your appearance in your full length mirror, checking out your outfit, which comprised of a dark brown cardigan, a basic flowy white t-shirt, leggings and black calf high boots. "This is gonna have to be casual enough." Just as you speak to yourself in the mirror, you faintly here the knock at the door and Peter letting Bucky in.

"Hey, Peter. Thanks for watching Louise tonight." Bucky keeps his attention on Peter as he limps over to the couch with a squealing four year old clung to his leg.

"Oh, it's no problem at all. I love watching her." They both look towards your room when you ask for a couple more minutes then go back to their conversation. "Um, I actually have a question for you, if you don't mind?"

"Kid, I am not helping you with your history homework again. Don't you have the inter-" Bucky begins to rant before being cutoff by a now more nervous Peter.

"No, I actually was wondering if you could help me with this girl at school. You know getting her to notice me." Bucky just cocks a curious eyebrow at him and he continues. "Well, when you and Ms. Y/L/N started dating you weren't t-the most approachable, ya know,"

"Thin ice, kid." Bucky has now put some of his attention into helping Louise color a page in her coloring book.

"S-sorry, it's just, I was wondering, well, hoping you had some pointers to help me talk to her." Bucky hadn't noticed until now that Peter has moved to the other end of the couch which wasn't far from where he sat but the increased distance was noticeable, so be took a breath and gave his advice.

"Don't overthink it, and stay relaxed. That's really all the advice I can give because Louise is the only reason I got the opportunity to talk to Y/N. So, yeah…" Bucky's eyebrows furrow when he sees Peter frantically typing into his phone, about to ask what it was, that was until you exclaim your emergence from your room.

"Ta-da! This casual enough?" You hold out your arms and quickly step to turned around, displaying not only your outfit, but your dangly "diamond" earrings, and your hair, currently in its natural form but done up a bit.

"Perfect. Absolutely perfect." Bucky walks over to you with his arms open and give you a light kiss while gently pulling you towards him by your upper arms. While he was coming towards you, you got a glance of his outfit, dark jeans, burgundy quarter sleeve henley, and leather jacket, a common combination for him that he wore so we'll.

"Well you look great too. Shall we get going?" You go over to the pass though to grab your purse and then the living room to give Louise one last kiss. "Be good for Peter. Love you, babydoll."

"Yes ma'am, love you too mommy." She grabs your face with her little hands to pull you in for another kiss, and then goes back to coloring. "Thank you again Peter. We should be back around 11:30."

"Okay. Bye Ms. Y/L/N. Bye uh- Mr- B- uh…" Peter frantically looks back and forth between the two of you, and you just stifle a laugh and look towards Bucky.

"It's just Bucky kid. We've been over this." He leads you out the door by the small of your back. "Have fun you two." Finally, you and Bucky were out the door and off to the mystery date location.

"So you having fun?" Bucky asks as you two sway back and forth, slow dancing to the music of an acoustic guitar being played on the stage of a small amphitheater-like area decorated for a date night event.

"Who knew eating a box of pizza in the car and then slow dancing in Central Park would be so romantic.?" You lift your head from Bucky's chest to scan his face, admiring how soft he looks in the light glow of the twinkle lights above. "I like your hair like this." You run your finger up and though his short hair, scratching his scalp and eliciting a deep groan from him.

"You did that on purpose." A mischievous grin grows on his face as his grip tightens slightly around your waist, one hand beings to slip down to grip your butt. "I will not hesitate to bring you back to the car. You owe me from last night anyway." You playfully hit his arms, making him laugh then go to kiss your nose.

"I was tired. You can't blame me, blame my severely messed up circadian rhythm." You giggle your last few words due to the tickle of Bucky's stubble on your neck as he begins to sprinkle kisses up and down.

"You smell good. You always smell good." His kissed being to move along your jaw.

"You have never smelled me after a 12 hour shift, huh?" Bucky's lips finally reach yours, starting with light pecks and ending with deep passionate kisses boarding on inappropriate frenching.

"Woah there, I'm sure you could take this party somewhere more private. Thinking about it, you weren't one to be very modest were you?" That voice. You know that voice. You hate that voice. No, it can't be.

"Trevor." Is all you say, not looking to the man standing a few feet from you and Bucky, seeming to be with someone.

"You know this guy?" You can tell by his voice that Bucky was on edge, hugging you close to him and turning you away.

"Unfortunately. Bucky, this is my uh- ex-husband."

#black reader #marvel imagine #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x black!reader #bucky imagine #peter parker #james barnes x black!reader #james barnes imagine

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

Dear Heart - Chapter 10

Dick Winters x Melanie Davis

Summary: Melanie Davis is a nurse from North Carolina who has lived a sheltered life since her father died. Her father’s best friend, Colonel Sink, invites her to experience more as a regimental nurse for the 506th PIR of the 101st Airborne. She embarks on the adventure of a lifetime.

Tag list: @thoughpoppiesblow​​​​ @primusk​​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: First of all, sorry this update took so long! I’ve got a new OC to introduce here and I wanted to get her right. I hope you guys enjoy Juliet as much as I do :) Thank you again to @mercurygray​​ for being a wonderful beta reader, as always <3 

Warning(s): None for this one :)

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8  Chapter 9

Chapter 10 here we go!!!

Haguenau, with its slushy streets and unpredictable explosions, was a welcome reprieve from the hellish woods of the Bois Jacques. The improvements were small, but they had roofs over their heads, food in their bellies, and rumor had it that later there would be showers. Unfortunately, danger still lingered close by - right across the river. 

Melanie slipped and slid all the way to the company CP to check on Lipton. She was keeping an eye on his pneumonia so he wouldn’t have to go to the hospital. Dick had objected to this at first, but she assured him she could manage. Lip was too valuable to leave the company now, and Dick couldn’t argue with that. 

When she arrived, she saw Webster - clean and fresh from the replacement depot. She nearly did a double take when she spotted him. Holland felt like years ago now. Though he looked much the same as he did then - a handsome young Harvard man. 

“Oh! Hello, David,” she said pleasantly. “Glad you could join us.”

“Thank you,” he returned earnestly, for he knew she was the only person who said that without any sarcasm behind it. “How are you, Melanie?” 

“Oh, just fine,” she said. “How’s the leg?”

“Good, thanks,” he replied. 

Melanie had tended to him herself. It was a flesh wound, so she didn’t need a doctor. Just disinfectant, stitches, and a bandage, and he was good as new. She offered to cover for him if he wanted to get back to the line, but he refused. Now that she had seen combat first hand, she couldn’t say she blamed him.

She turned her attention back to Lipton. “Now, Lip, can I ask you to set those papers down at least long enough for me to take your temperature?”  

Lip nodded and let the papers in his hand fall into his lap. Luz pulled up a chair for her. She thanked him and took a seat while the thermometer did its work. She leaned closer to feel Lip’s forehead, which was still burning up. 

The temperature climbed and she frowned. “Still a fever. How’s the cough?”

“It’s okay,” he said, but then lost himself in another fit.

While she waited, another new face entered the room. A lieutenant she did not recognize. He introduced himself as Jones, and explained he was looking for Captain Speirs. As if summoned by the mention of him, the new Easy CO appeared. Melanie wasn’t quite sure how she felt about Speirs yet. There was no denying he was successful, but there was something frightening about him. He was so...intense. And she’d heard the rumors about what he did on D-Day, though she didn’t know if she believed them. Even having spent more time around him, she couldn’t make up her mind about whether he was capable of it or not. 

Lip began to introduce Jones, but Speirs cut across him. “Listen, for Christ’s sakes, will you go back in the back and sack out? Lieutenant, tell him he needs to be in bed.”

One thing Melanie appreciated about Speirs was his indifference to her presence in regard to her gender. Ever the practical leader, he seemed to just appreciate that she was there. Man or woman, if there was help, he took it. She did wish he would call her Melanie, but that sort of familiarity took time. 

“I can’t order him around, Captain, but I do agree with you,” she said, casting a stern look at Lip. 

“I will, sir,” Lip said to Speirs. “I was just trying to make myself useful, sir.”

“You can do that by listening to the nurse,” Speirs replied.

“And you won’t be useful to anybody unless you get better,” she added. “Do try and get some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said tiredly. 

“Very good,” she said, patting his arm. “I’ll come back by and check on you later.” 

With Lip seen to, Melanie headed back to her billet. Now that they weren’t cut off, she had a stack of letters from her mother to sort through. She had only made it through about half of them so far, and though their contents steered more and more toward questions about her and Dick, she was eager to hear the news from home. She also had a few letters from her friend Rose, so when her mother’s letters got to be too much, she had something to fall back on. 

When the first letter from her unread stack from Lilian began with a question about Dick and his intentions, Melanie gave up. She could never make her mother understand what was between her and Dick, and so there was no use trying to explain it. She picked up Rose’s letter and began to read. She made a face at its contents. 

“Bad news?”

Melanie looked up to see Dick in the doorway. For a fleeting second, she took absurd notice of the bit of scruff on his face and admired it. He looked rather devil-may-care. So much so that for a moment she forgot her distress entirely. She shook her head to clear it, set the letter down, and nodded sadly. 

“I’m afraid so,” she said. “My friend, Rose...her husband is missing somewhere in the Pacific.” 

“This is your high school friend?” he asked. 

Melanie so rarely spoke about her loved ones back home, but she had mentioned Rose more than once. Rose was married to Patrick, a Marine. They had a little boy, Jonathan, and Melanie was his godmother. She nodded again.

“Yes,” she said. “Oh, how awful…Poor Rose…”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Dick said, trying to sound convincing. “Could be captured.” That was certainly wishful thinking. He’d heard that the Japanese rarely, if ever, took prisoners. But he wouldn’t poison Melanie’s mind with that information.

She didn’t reply for a long moment, her eyes fixed on the letter, deep in thought. Then she sat back against her chair and sighed. Almost dreamily. His brow furrowed as he watched her. She turned her face to look out the window, and the light illuminated the bruises that still faintly clung to her skin. 

“This might sound like a horrible thing to say,” she said. "But you know, I sort of envy her. Husband, baby. Everything is...decided, it’s there. I know deep down that it worries her, having Patrick gone, but I...I envy that she had those things to lose." She looked at Dick. "Does that make sense?"

He knew exactly what she meant. Dick listened to the way some of the other men talked about their wives, and he did sometimes feel a little jealous that they had someone who was so counting on their return. True, it made the stakes higher - his frequent reasoning for not admitting his feelings to Melanie - but there was a certain beauty about that risk. 

“It makes sense,” he told her. “And I think it’s only human. She may envy you that you get to be part of the action, while she has to stay behind. Or that you don’t have something so heavy to worry about.”

Melanie considered arguing this. If anything happened to Dick, she’d be devastated. But of course, that was not something she could say. And besides, he was not her husband. Losing him would not put her in the same position as Rose socially. She would only have comparable heartbreak. She decided to change the subject, distraught at the very idea. 

“Did you need something?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” he said. “There’s a patrol tonight. Sink wants you and Roe on standby in case of any casualties.”

“A patrol?” she questioned. 

He nodded, his own displeasure at the idea clear in the slight downturn of his mouth. She wished there was something she could say to comfort him, but unfortunately, they both knew it was no good. 

He explained the basics. Fifteen men from Easy Company would cross the river and try to capture a few Germans they knew to be residing in one of the buildings near the shore. Hopefully, they would have information to help the Allies push further into Germany. Melanie didn’t think the risk was worth it, but she didn’t have to say so. She knew Dick felt the same. But orders were orders. 

“Alright, I’ll try and have some things prepared,” she said with a sigh. If she had time, she might have gone to Colonel Sink to ask him about this patrol and if it was really necessary, but it seemed decided. “Would you like me to come to the briefing?” 

“Up to you,” he said. “I was just going to tell you to get some sleep while you can. Patrol sets off at 0100 hours.” 

She expected him to go then, but he lingered, looking at her as if there was something on the tip of his tongue. She searched his face for what it might be. 

“Is there anything else, Dick?” she asked.

There was, but he wouldn’t say it. Truthfully, he felt he related to Rose. After almost losing Melanie to a crumbling building, and wondering what she’d been through before those five days in the woods (which he still wondered), fearing that whatever it was had cost him his closeness to her, he realized he had done a lot more worrying about her lately. He was at the relative safety of battalion, while she had taken a position much closer to danger. The tables had certainly turned since D-Day. 

He shook his head. “No, that’s it. Get some rest. I’ll see you later.”

He turned to leave, but was blocked by the appearance of a striking blonde woman. He stopped just before colliding with her, his surprise evident on his face.

“Crikey, sorry!” she gasped. She was English, based on the accent. “My fault!”

Melanie’s brow furrowed with confusion as Dick shuffled out of the way of the newcomer and her face came into view. She was beautiful with thick, wavy blonde hair, eyes the color of rain, and an enchanting smile. She clearly wasn’t military since she was in civilian clothes. Her presence was all charm and warmth, from the second she entered the room. 

“Juliet Fletcher,” she said, extending her hand. “You’ll have to excuse the sweat, I walked all the way through town. You wouldn’t believe how difficult it is to get a cab out here.” 

Melanie and Dick both chuckled and shook the woman’s hand. “I’m Melanie Davis, and this is Captain Dick Winters.”

“I see I’ve made it to the right place,” Juliet said. “I’m a reporter with the London Pursuit, and Colonel Sink said I can bunk with you while I cover the regiment.”

Melanie blinked, surprised by Colonel Sink allowing a war correspondent - especially one who was both female and English.  

“Most of my colleagues went to cover our own lads, but I thought I’d see what the Yanks are up to,” Juliet continued. “I hate to be unoriginal.”

Melanie and Dick exchanged an amused glance as Juliet stepped further into the room and set her bags down. 

“I promise you’ll be glad of the company,” she said. 

“Why do you say that?” Melanie asked, curious. 

“Well, there can’t be too many other women out here,” Juliet said. “With all the whistles I got on my way here, I’m quite certain we stand out.”

Melanie smiled again, feeling seen. Though the men knew better than to whistle at her. She thought it was out of respect for Colonel Sink, but really most of the men understood Melanie to be Dick’s girl, whether Dick and Melanie were aware of it or not. 

“I’ll let you get settled,” Dick said, then he turned to put his hand on Melanie’s shoulder. “I’ll see you later.”

“Of course,” Melanie replied, her gaze lingering on him just a moment longer. Her eyes flicked down to the stubble on his chin again for one last look at it. 

“Nice to meet you, Juliet,” he said, and then he was gone. 

Juliet glanced between where Dick disappeared and Melanie’s face. “You two seem rather smitten, is he your boyfriend?”

Melanie flushed. “Oh, no, nothing like that.”

“Would you like him to be?” Juliet asked. 

The pink in Melanie’s cheeks deepened. “Well - I mean, I care for him, but -”

“What’s the matter?” Juliet pressed. “Family doesn’t approve?”

“We’ve never met each other’s families, so -”

“Oh, is he married?”

“No, he’s -”

Juliet’s nose wrinkled as she interrupted again. “Does he want you to do unusual things in the bedroom?”

The color drained from Melanie’s face and her eyes went wide as an owl’s. “No!”

“These are just routine questions,” Juliet said. 

“Are they?” Melanie wondered, shocked. 

“Of course,” Juliet answered, appearing completely earnest. Until she burst out laughing, which put Melanie at ease. “I’m joking, Melanie. We only just met, I’d never ask what your boyfriend likes in the bedroom. Unless of course you need to talk about it, in which case, I’m all ears.” 

Melanie blinked. She hadn’t met many reporters so she wondered if they were all as fast-paced as Juliet, whose mind seemed to run a hundred miles a second. She felt like she should be offended by the remarks, but she wasn’t. She found it all a bit silly. Which she appreciated after the news from Rose and the impending patrol. Juliet was like sunshine in this bleak and gray winter. She retrieved a cigarette from the box in her pocket, struck a match, and lit it, taking a long drag, and looking very graceful in Melanie’s opinion. 

“Dick and I are strictly platonic,” she said. “But I appreciate the offer for a confidant.” 

“Anytime,” Juliet said with a puff of smoke around the word. “I hope we can be friends.”

“Me too,” Melanie agreed. 

“Seriously, I don’t have any friends,” Juliet said. “People hate reporters.”

Melanie softened. Juliet was not teasing now, she was being honest. Melanie saw it in her eyes, the loneliness.

“I assure you, I have no such prejudice,” Melanie said. “Now, what can I do to help you settle in?”

Juliet had packed light, which was to be expected. But she had brought along her typewriter, which Melanie was surprised Juliet was able to carry at all. It was heavier than lead, and would have had Melanie tipping over if she tried to travel with it. As they got Juliet set up, they got to know each other more. Melanie did enjoy being in the company of a woman again, and the friendship she felt reminded her of her time with Renee and Anna, who she missed a great deal. Juliet explained that she had met some of the 101st before while they were in Aldbourne, which was part of what drew her to covering their unit now. 

“You didn’t make any friends?” Melanie asked. “I’ve found our boys to be rather friendly, especially with beautiful women.”

Juliet smiled. “Oh, they were perfectly kind. But it is hard to keep up once they’ve shipped out.”

“I understand,” Melanie said. “Why, my friend back home - her husband is in the Pacific and she gets so impatient for his letters. Of course now, he…” she trailed off, reminded once more of Patrick’s danger and Rose’s heartache. 

“Was he killed?” Juliet asked. 

Melanie shook her head. “Missing.”

“Crikey, I don’t know which is worse,” Juliet said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“That’s not the only bad news,” Melanie confessed, and explained about the patrol. Juliet listened carefully, brow knitting over her eyes as she took it in. 

“It’s quite risky,” she remarked. “From what I’ve read, the war’s supposedly almost over.”

Melanie bit back a scoff. “Not quite. I wish it were, though. These men have been through enough.”

“You have too, I expect,” Juliet said. “Were you with them in Bastogne?”

“I was for the last week or so,” Melanie told her. “And I barely made it through that little.”

Melanie shuddered to recall those days. Not only because of the grueling nature of the battle, but also her distance from Dick. Things were beginning to get back to normal between them, but she could feel that he was still curious. She appreciated that he wouldn’t push her, but it made her feel guilty to keep something from him. 

“I’d love to get your story, if you’re up to sharing,” Juliet said. “I’m sure you’ve got a unique perspective.”

“I’m sorry, but I’d rather not,” Melanie told her. “If anyone’s voice deserves to be heard, it’s the men who were out there for weeks.”

Juliet shrugged. “I understand. I hope you know your voice matters too, though.” When Melanie didn’t reply, she continued. “Besides, I’m more interested in this patrol you mentioned. D’you think I’d be allowed at the briefing at least?”

Melanie pondered this, grateful for the change of subject. “We can certainly ask Dick. Or Easy’s CO, since that company will be executing the operation.”

“Great! When can I meet him?” Juliet wondered. 

Melanie admired Juliet’s eagerness. “I’ll be going by the company CP this afternoon to check up on Sergeant Lipton. Come with me, and I’m sure we can find out.”

“Perfect!”

The girls set out for something to eat. And Juliet was constantly making Melanie laugh. Not because Juliet was necessarily trying to be funny, but her remarks were unusual and amusing. Melanie felt like she’d been sent a sweet blessing - she couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed this much. This winter had been the hardest of her life, and not only because of the weather. So much had happened to her. But now she felt like spring was right around the corner. 

Neither Dick nor Speirs were at the CP when Melanie and Juliet stopped by, and Lipton was about the same as far as his illness went. Melanie introduced her new friend, and Lip was welcoming to her. Melanie once again stressed his need for rest, and he promised her he would sleep within the hour. 

“I think Winters and Speirs are out by the river,” he told them. “They’re checking things out for the patrol.”

“Thank you, Lip,” Melanie replied. “We’ll go find them.”

She turned to go, but quickly realized that Juliet was not following her. The reporter was glued to her spot, and some of the color had drained from her face. She looked...rather frightened. 

“Did you say...Speirs?” she asked Lipton. 

He nodded. “Yeah. Captain Speirs has been our CO since Foy.”

She swallowed. Melanie’s brow furrowed. She guessed that perhaps Speirs was one of the people from the regiment Juliet met in Aldbourne, but judging by her face, it would not be a glad reunion. Juliet looked as if she were braced for impact. Melanie grew concerned. 

“I understand if you’re a little afraid of Speirs,” she said. “He’s -”

“Hey, I ain’t afraid of nothin’ except spiders, which is completely normal,” Juliet interjected, somehow both defensive and joking. She took a breath. “Okay...okay, you may see some things…”

Melanie immediately formed a hundred questions about that, but Juliet marched out of the building and into the street. Evidently, there would be no explanation of what Melanie might see upon finding Speirs. Melanie eagerly followed Juliet outside. She tried to strike up conversation again, but Juliet remained silent. Her eyes looked straight ahead, and yet, they were unfocused. Melanie gave up trying to talk before they finally reached the river bank, where Dick did in fact stand with Speirs, looking out at the water and the enemy on the other side. Melanie cleared her throat, and both men turned their heads. 

As soon as Speirs’ eyes landed on Juliet, the already thin air suddenly became colder and sparser. Melanie cast Dick a sideways glance and saw on his face that he felt it too. The tension was like a dam about to break. Juliet shifted uncomfortably under Speirs’ icy glare. 

“Hi, Ron,” she said quietly. “You look - you look good. I know you probably don’t think so, since - well, you know. Not that you were ever terribly concerned about things like that - I mean, that’s not to say you aren’t nice looking - I was just - you know what? I’m gonna stop now. You look well. War suits you.”

Juliet bit her lip, clearly regretting the last remark, but she didn’t try to correct herself again. Speirs did not reply. He only stared at her, his gaze alone seeming to order her away. Melanie stepped closer to Dick, for a shiver had gone up her spine. Beats passed in strained silence. 

“I wrote to you,” Juliet went on. “Several letters. Did you -”

“I didn’t read them,” he cut across her. His tone and expression were alarmingly blank.

She swallowed the sting of it. “That’s alright. I understand completely.” He continued to look at her in stony silence so she changed the subject again. “So, you’re a captain, now, are you? That’s nice! Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” he said hollowly. 

“You deserve it,” she said. “Really.”

Speirs did not answer that. He only scowled.

Dick leaned over to whisper in Melanie’s ear. “What is going on?”

“No idea,” she breathed back. “They’ve got some sort of history, but I don’t know what.” 

Dick only nodded and looked back at Juliet, who was becoming more and more despondent by the second. He decided to rescue her. 

“Did you two need something?” he asked, so the group could hear. 

“Juliet was wondering if she could be present at the briefing in order to cover the patrol tonight,” Melanie said, eyes darting between Speirs and Dick. 

“No,” Speirs said shortly. 

“Please don’t make this personal, Ron,” Juliet sighed. “My editor is really counting on me getting a story out here, and -”

“Well, she fucked up, Jules, she trusted you!” he snapped. 

Juliet blinked, taken aback and wounded by the biting reply. Melanie got the distinct feeling Speirs was not talking about the story when it came to a breach of trust. Her mind was swirling with questions now. How did Juliet and Speirs know each other? What had happened to make him hate her so much? And could it be fixed?

Speirs took a deep breath and let it go slowly, his shoulders relaxing as he exhaled. He looked at Juliet again. “Your mother, is she feeling alright?”

“Mhm,” Juliet said with a nod. “Yeah, much better.”

“Good,” he replied. 

With that, he walked off. Melanie was completely bewildered. Speirs seemed like he was about ready to spit at Juliet, but then he asked about her mother? It was all so odd and complex. Dick watched Speirs’ disappearing form. 

Melanie had a horrifying thought as she watched Speirs depart and Juliet’s expression sink. When two people miscommunicated, and things shifted between them, the relationship could easily come to a devastating and tragic end. Melanie examined the change in her and Dick’s relationship since Terry assaulted her. If she couldn’t find the courage to share with him, would they become like Juliet and Speirs? All hurt feelings and unsaid intentions? What would happen to them if she gave into her fears and didn’t trust him with her heart?

#band of brothers #dick winters #dick winters x ofc #melanie jo davis #dear heart series #hbo war #hbo war fic #band of brothers fic

[katherinemallory]

#8 Heart in a sling

This is how we got there... #1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #6 #7

I stayed in bed a little longer than usual. I still couldn’t get used to the thought of going back on active service. It was both exciting and paralyzing. And apart from that, there was no need to hurry, as I was to meet M at 1 P.M.

Still lying in bed in my pyjamas, I grabbed my phone and searched for my chat with Bond. I wanted to let him know how things were going.

You were right. M wants to see me today.

Told ya. Any plans for today? How about dinner with a handsome 00? xx

I hesitated. I’ve already accepted who my real love interest was... and it wasn’t Bond. I don’t want to give him false hope, but... it’s not a crime to eat a dinner with a man, is it? This doesn’t mean I have to marry him, I thought.

Sure. See ya there xx

I smiled to myself and unwillingly went out of my bed. I did everything lazily, enjoying the last moments of my freedom, as I knew it would end at the exact moment I enter the SIS building. I chose a grey suit and left the apartment when the time was right.

It was no easy task to find a parking spot, which heralded an intense day at the MI6.

I wondered if M has been busy since he came back to work. There must have been a lot to deal with. I would help him with *anything* if I only could... and he wouldn’t regret that.

When I stepped into my office, I went straight to the window and opened the dark blue curtains. It wasn’t the most intimate place you could imagine, but I missed it so much while I was spending my time alone during the arrest. Lots of natural light came from the window and I felt almost like at home. I sat behind my desk and began to sign the necessary documents confimring my return.

Out of the blue, someone knocked on the door. I jumped out of my chair, genuinely scared, as I didn't expect anyone to interrupt me.

"Come in," I said after a few seconds, still signing the papers.

"Hi, Katherine. It's me... do you have a minute?"

I looked up and saw Amanda.

"I even have two," I replied, pointing to the small couch next to the window. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you," she said as she sat on the couch, placing her hand on her knees, as if she just came to the headmaster’s office and had to make excuses for her bad behaviour at school.

“It’s good to see you again, Amanda. I hope you feel better than the last time we talked...”

“Yes, Kath, thank you,” she stammered, glancing around. “Actually, it's not... It's not easy for me, but I'm going to confess to something..."

"Is it something about our mission in Geneva...?"

I observed her, patiently waiting for the full story.

"Well, yes and no, I suppose... the thing is...” she looked at my face and then at her hands that moved to her thighs, “that... Katherine... I'm not going back on active service,” she said and looked me again in the eyes. “I declined."

I opened my mouth in astonishment. I was just blown away.

"You did *what*? But why...?"

"I feel like it was all my fault. I just can't stop thinking about it, I can't forget how helpless I felt that day we almost got captured," she replied, and sighed. "You know... that I can't go back if I won't consult our psychologist... which I don't feel like doing right now... And apart from that I'm getting older. You can't pretend to be a successful operative forever..."

I was aware of the fact that she had a point there as she was one of the oldest agents in the section, even though she didn't look like that at all. But I couldn't imagine the section without her. I barely knew Amanda, but we got along really well quickly.

"... that is why I will ask M to reassign me. For the sake of my mental health."

For a brief moment we sat there in silence, listening to the clock’s ticking.

"Amanda... if I'm honest with you," I replied, "I don't know what to say... I'm shocked! I had *no* idea it affected you that much... I mean, obviously it was a difficult moment for both of us, but does it really have to... be an end?"

She rubbed her hands.

"Yes, Kath. I think my time's up."

...

Later that day I catched the elevator to the last floor just a few minutes before 1 P.M. I was a little nervous, not because I was unsure of my physical or psychological shape, but because I couldn’t wait to see Mallory. How does he feel? And what does he expect from me now? I was one of the double-0s suspected of being responsible for this attack after all...

I went through the long corridor and opened the door to Eve’s office.

"Hi, Eve!"

"Hi, Kath! It's good to have you back," replied Eve with a huge smile on her face. "I'd love to chat a little more, but he's ready for you..."

When Eve said "he", I felt my cheeks flush.

"Thanks," I replied and went on to open the maroon door.

And there he was. Relaxed, sitting in his armchair and casually going through the files on his desk. It must have been a bit uncomfortable, since his left arm was in a sling, but he didn’t seem to be bothered at all.

I went closer to his desk and stopped in front of it, crossing my hands behind my back.

"How's the arm, sir?"

"Oh, it's fine. It will get better," he replied as he stood up and leaned his free hand at his desk.

The sling was hardly visible, because it was nearly of the same colour as Mallory's double-breasted chalk stripe suit - very dark, but not necessarily black. But what has really caught my attention was the tie. For the first time I've seen Mallory wearing a *red* slik tie.

His words, combined with this look had quite an effect on me. I realized it and wanted to temper my feelings, but I failed miserably. A cheerful: “That’s wonderful to hear, sir,” got away from me. “We’ve been waiting to see you again!” I crowed, unable to hide my excitement.

Mallory noticed it. He looked at me curiously, forcing a mild smile. His eyebrows rose, as if he wanted me to elaborate, but I got so scared of my own opennes that I immediately withdrew.

“What I mean is that... it’s great to work with you again... sir,” I said and paused. “I suppose you’ve already seen my psychological evaluation. 002 reporting for duty,” I added, trying to sound as professional as possible.

Mallory frowned thoughtfully, and then smiled again, this time more naturally.

“Since we’re both back... I could use your help,” he said. His voice was casual. “Would you mind taking my jacket off? I feel a little warm in there.”

As he spoke these words, I realized that this request was not an official part of our meeting. Not that I mind it, I thought, and walked over to his side of the desk.

I’m not sure how it happened, but my mind played a little joke on me. I got reminded of my recent dream. Only me and Mallory in his office, late at night, kissing on his desk... oh, what I wouldn’t give to feel his arms around me right now, I thought. Strangely, I didn't fully trust myself at that exact moment, fearing that instead of helping Mallory with taking off only his jacket, I would start to passionately unbutton his shirt.

I came closer to him and hesitated.

“Go ahead,” Mallory encouraged me.

I cradled his arm in my hands and took it off the sling. Then I asked Mallory to turn his back on me, still holding his hand, which caused me to move closer to him - so close that I could smell his cologne. Then I touched the top of his jacket and helped Mallory to slowly take it off. I took his left hand as gently as I could and put it in a sling again.

His green eyes, clear as crystal, met mine when I looked up.

“Will that be all right?” I asked, realizing we were standing only inches away from each other.

“Yes,” replied Mallory calmly. “Thank you, Katherine.”

It surprised me that he has called me by my real name again, but I didn't have a chance to analyze it for long. A light winked on the phone. Mallory answered the call, putting the phone on speaker. I heard Eve’s voice.

"I’m sorry to interrupt you, sir, but..."

"Yes, Miss Moneypenny?"

"... 007 is here."

Mallory looked at me suggestively.

"Thank you. Send him in,” Mallory answered curtly, still looking at me.

I got the message and went to the other side of the desk just in time. The door has opened, showing James Bond entering the office.

"Welcome, 007," said Mallory. "Please join us."

Bond came to the desk and stood beside me. Mallory was standing as well.

"This one’s going to be brief. I'm glad you're both available, since I have a special mission for you,” said Mallory in his semi-friendly tone, and sat down. “It's about doing a liitle *show* to confuse our enemies. Perhaps it’s not the most important task you can ever get... but it might turn out to be... quite enjoyable."

He put a hand flat down on his desk and continued.

"I need you two to pose as a married couple during a poker tournament in Casino de Monte-Carlo. Play poker well, observe, and intrigue a few men. You’ll find all the necessary details about them in the files...”

He lowered his eyes to the desk in search for the files.

“Oh, and the Treasury will provide you the money, so try not to lose everything,” he added sarcastically, staring directly at us.

Good old Mallory is back, I thought.

"You’ve still got a few free days before your flight, so use this time well. Think about the tactics and any equipment you’ll need... This mission isn’t about any specific result, rather just an investigation, but you should remember to be careful.”

Neither of us answered him, signalizing that we understood.

“If you haven’t got any questions then... that’s all for today. Thank you.”

“Thank you, sir,” replied Bond and came to the desk to take the files.

“And Katherine, James... visit Q later today. He’s got some surprises for you," said Mallory in his deep, smooth voice.

We both nodded and left M’s office. I’ve stolen a quick glance at Mallory when I was closing the door. He smiled at me for the third time that day.

"James, could you please wait for me downstairs? I'll join you in a minute," I said when we're about to say goodbye to Eve.

"Anything for you," answered Bond - clearly pleased with our conversation with Mallory - and left Eve's office, closing the door behind him.

Even though both doors were closed, I lowered my voice, making sure that nor Mallory nor Bond could hear us.

"Eve, why didn't you tell me that Bond would be here as well?"

"Oh, you didn’t know this?" asked Eve. "I thought that M informed you both yesterday..."

"He didn't."

She looked quite offended.

"Well, I'm not a fortuneteller, I can't predict everything..."

"Oh, I’m sorry Eve, I didn’t mean it,” I said, shaking my head. “Actually, I don't need you to predict anything," I added, whispering. "But I could use your help. Do one more thing for me, will you?"

"What do you have in mind?"

I was just about to answer Eve's question when suddenly the door opened. It turned out that James Bond didn’t go downstair as I asked him to. He pointed to his watch.

"Kath, are you coming? The minute has passed already."

"Yes, James, I'm coming!" I exclaimed and grabbed a pen that was lying on the desk. I carelessly wrote Eve a little note:

Spy on M for me

I pointed to one of my fingers, trying to suggest what I mean. Eve managed to give me a shocking look before I was taken out of her office by Bond who refused to wait any longer and took me by the hand.

"What was so important that it took you so long?" he asked when we were walking down the corridor. He was still holding me by the hand.

"I was telling Eve how excited I am to go on a mission with you," I replied cheerfully and kissed him on the cheek. He seemed a bit confused, but put his arm around my waist.

"What was that for?" he whispered into my ear.

"A thank-you for the dinner, you fool. Or, should I say, *my fictional husband*?"

I put my arm around Bond as well, wondering if Eve understood my message... but I knew I shouldn’t be worried about it just yet. I didn’t respond very well to the silent treatment Bond gave me after our horrible argument and I wanted to take the opportunity to make things better with him. It didn’t matter to me at all what other people working for the MI6 might think, seeing me and Bond embraced like a real-life couple.

I felt bad about flirting with him, but I needed a convincing cover just in case my plan went wrong. I've already made up my mind. If M's married, then it's out of the question. I'll leave him alone and suffer in silence, wandering around the MI6 Headquarters with my broken heart in a sling for the rest of my life. But if he's single... I'm afraid I won't be able to resist the temptation... 

Even if it’s going to cost me my job as a double-0.

***

To be continued.

#fanfiction #james bond fanfiction #katherine mallory #gareth mallory #m #james bond #bond james bond #002 #007 #skyfall quote #spectre quote

[guardianofjunmyeon]

Finding Atlantis (part 9)

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description: 20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But   fewer men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key  to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt began.

A/N: long time no see!!!! Here’s the new update^^ ive been on summer vacation for a few weeks now and unmotivated to write since this is the first time in a while i can really rest but ive been playing a lot of mysme and watching a lot of tv lmaooo

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

What does this mean?

Your thoughts are jumbled together as Baekhyun falls asleep against your chest. His soft whimpers and twitches are comforting almost in the quiet of the room. This isn’t the first time that he’s fallen asleep before you after a night together, but it is the first that he’s fallen asleep like this.

Curled around you, against your chest, breaths puffing out softly against your skin.

You can recall countless times you’ve woken up in bed with him, at opposite ends of the bed, not touching any more than absolutely necessary. Pissed off at any little sound or movement that he would make in dreamland. Bothered by the feeling of sweaty skin touching your own once the lust has faded to nothing.

It’s a startling comparison to how you feel now, but there’s no part of you that feels bothered by it.

You let your fingers run through his soft dark hair absentmindedly. It doesn’t take long for you to be lulled asleep by the feeling of warmth surrounding you and the soft snores filling your room.

~~~

The tension doesn’t go away.

The arguing doesn’t stop.

Better yet, it amplifies.

“If you step foot in my quarters without permission again, I’ll kill you.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Do you want to test me?” There’s a smirk fighting to break out as you say the words. He takes another step forward and you feel your heart rate picking up at the excitement visible in his eyes.

Jongin steps between you. “Please, can you not fight today? You guys have been going at it every day. We’re tired.”

You blink and look at the man amusedly. He looks genuinely exasperated standing in front of his captain like this. “Would you rather I fight with you?” You take a step towards him and watch excitedly as he takes a surprised step back and pink flushes across his cheeks. You feel playful, but it seems as though Jongin doesn’t fully realize it.

Baekhyun pushes Jongin behind him. You can still see the color on his cheeks as he ducks his head down behind Baekhyun. “Don’t flirt with my first mate!”

“You flirt with mine!” you state with a scoff.

Junmyeon blinks at your words from where he emerges from the kitchens. You cast him an accusatory glance and he shrugs before turning away and resuming his duties. You know that it doesn’t bother him in the slightest, being called out for flat out flirting with Baekhyun, but you’ve still decided to give them both shit for it. They’re both naturally touchy, they can’t help it. Once Baekhyun finally got over whatever was making him pissy at Junmyeon, the two have become quick friends. Close friends.

A bit too close for your own liking –if you’re honest with yourself.

Minseok takes it upon himself to grab you by the arm and drag you away with a pointed look in Baekhyun’s direction. You let him pull you to the hull and wave away Ten at the wheel without a word.

He doesn’t seem exasperated by the arguing as he did the last time he pulled you aside, but you still expect a lecture of some kind from him. You won’t be the one to break the silence in fear of getting a talk like that of the one in the infirmary all those days ago.  

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks at you blankly. “Do you think that you might want to go back to doing your job now, Captain?”

“I am doing my job,” you throw back easily. His lip twitches but he doesn’t bother to humor you with any kind of response outside of a disbelieving chuckle. He turns around and you watch him walk off and grab Baekhyun by the back of the neck with a squeeze so hard that it nearly brings the younger to his knees. Minseok whispers harshly into his ear and Baekhyun nods rapidly in agreement to whatever he’s being told. It takes a full 5 seconds of you watching the scene to realize what you’re doing.

Nothing.

Maybe Minseok was right. You should go back to doing your job.

You settle at the unoccupied wheel of your ship and look out in the distance at the empty expanse of water ahead. At this point in the journey, you only know to continue sailing forward until there is a sign of Isla de Sirena. Truthfully, you wish that your crew could avoid this trial entirely.

After the first one, the storm that almost claimed your life and your ship, you fear for the state of the Storm Chaser and your men in the face of what are essentially evil mermaids. Unfortunately, the only way to advance on to the third and final trial is to face each one before it head on. There’s no shortcut in the return back to Atlantis, but fuck do you wish there was.

This time, you hope that Junmyeon is able to use his song a bit more helpfully so that you aren’t nearly killed again.

It hasn’t even been 2 weeks since the storm and your embrace with death.

You hear the sound of boots against wood and feel a presence behind you. A glance to the side and you see Junmyeon stopping a few feet from your right with his eyes trained out on the horizon.

“Junmyeon?”

He blinks a few times as if clearing his mind from a stupor. Something about the look in his eyes worries you.

“I…I don’t have a good feeling about where we’re heading.”

Your eyebrows pull together in concern. You feel as though you may need to talk to Junmyeon in private, but you can’t do that at the helm. You look over the ship for someone to take your place.

“Sehun!” you shout across the ship once you spot the man. Sehun turns from his conversation with Jongin by the entrance to the crew cabins at the sound of his name. You motion him over. He jogs up to you immediately and you step away from the wheel. “Can you steer for a while?” you ask. He frowns slightly but nods in agreement. Sehun looks between you and Junmyeon, who has turned back to staring off with a sort of glazed look in his eyes, with worry.

You grab at your first mate’s arm and pull him off to the side where you can talk to him out of earshot of anyone else.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper once the panic clouding over his eyes disappears yet again. You don’t like the way he’s acting.

He shakes his head at your words. “The tune of the song is off. There’s something wrong about the song,” he says softly, fearfully.

“What do you mean? Are we not going the right way?”

“No it’s not that, we are…I’m still sure we are. I just…” His eyes lose focus just behind you; you squeeze his arm to bring his attention back to you. You frown at the blank expression on his face. “We should be extra cautious of what’s to happen next…”

His behavior and words fill you with unease. For Junmyeon to be so out of it is abnormal –extremely so. Of anyone on the ship, he’s always the most aware of everything going on at any point in time.

And he was fine earlier.

“Do you need to lie down for a bit? You’re kind of scaring me,” you admit. When he blinks again and his look is suddenly clear and focused, you shudder.

“No, we all need to be on high alert. We’ll come across Isla de Sirena at any moment from now to tomorrow. We only know the general location of the island, and that doesn’t help us out very much-”

“Captain!” You whirl around at the frantic voice. Yeri pants as she runs up to you. “Captain,” she gasps out again through desperate inhales of air. “We see something up ahead!”

You catch the way Junmyeon swallows nervously before you make your way back to the hull where Sehun is still steering. You squint out ahead of the ship.

You see nothing.

“Where’s my telescope?” You bark out. You scan the deck of your ship to find a few of your men at the bow, surrounding Baekhyun with your telescope up to his eye.

“How many fucking times do I have to tell him not to use my shit…”

Yeri flushes at your side. “I’ll...uh… I’ll go get it from him Captain,” she says apologetically before jogging away to the huddle of people trying to catch sight of whatever has been…sighted.

Yeri taps on Baekhyun’s shoulder and waits until he investigates who has disrupted him, before she snatches the device directly from his hand. You watch as he stares at her retreating figure with an offended look at her curt behavior. You smile proudly to yourself. When Yeri returns to your side and your telescope is back in your possession, you catch Baekhyun’s eyes and flick him off.

He sends you a finger back with an upwards twitch of the corner of his mouth.

You turn your attention back to Yeri before he can catch sight of you own lips itching to break out in a smile. “What’s the report?” you ask, bringing your telescope up to your eye so that you can find what has caused the commotion on the ship.

“It seems as though we will be approaching the island within the next few hours,” Yeri starts. You’re finally able to train your sights on a mass of land. It is small, even taking the distortion from how far away it is into account. The ship could easily just go around it.

You lower your telescope.

“Sehun, can we just go around the island?” you question.

“No!” Sehun says loudly just as Junmyeon nearly screams the same. You look back and forth between them in confusion.

“We can’t go around it. We can’t,” Junmyeon’s voice shakes as he says it, eyes wide with fright.

Your mouth opens at his fear shrouded expression, but no words come out.

Sehun cuts in to save you the trouble of trying to figure out why your first mate looks so terrified. “The island may look small, but that's because that is the only part that you can see. There are rocks and reefs that stretch out for miles on either side of it. They’re just hidden enough to be invisible from a distance, but it’s nearly impossible to maneuver around them. The ship would crash if we tried to go around at this point.”

“There’s a passage in the middle of the island that is large enough for a ship to sail through without problem,” Chanyeol’s voice booms from behind you. Confusion paints your face as you try to figure out where the hell he appeared from.

You try to figure out the reliability of going directly through the island versus around it. “Is it safe?”

Chanyeol sighs heavily at your question. “No, but it’s faster than trying to dodge reef and rock and inevitably crashing by going around.”

You swallow at the prospect of your ship crashing from something as dumb and avoidable as coral. “Alright, so we’ll sail through the island. That’s fine; that was the initial plan.” You speak mainly to yourself, trying to reason with the part of you that fears this will end horribly. Junmyeon’s behavior, the conveniently placed passage in the middle of the island, it doesn’t bode well.

“Sehun, you can navigate it?”

“As long as it’s through the island and not around, I can get us through safely.”

“May Poseidon be merciful…”

~~~

The first tendrils of music begin to float around the ship once you have sailed an hour closer to the island. Isla de Sirena is still too far in the distance for music to logically be able to reach your ears.

The song is beautiful, tinkling and melodic. Alluring, but it makes your skin crawl regardless of the beauty of it. It’s haunting, the harmonies, the mix of voices.

It makes you a bit dizzy.

You climb down the stairs to the main deck and walk over to the side of the ship to peer into the water. For the music to be reaching you, the sirens must be closer to you than they seem. As you expected, you can see movement beneath the waves.

Squinting, you try to make out whether the movement is just that of normal fish or of mystical creatures trying to drag your ship to the depths. Whatever it is, is too quick for you to clearly see.

You’re yanked away from the railing with a force that makes you stumble backward over your own feet. You collide clumsily into a disturbingly familiar chest.

You can feel one hand on your wrist and the other curled around your shoulder.

“Stay away from the edge of the ship. If they catch sight of you then they can shift themselves into your lookalike,” Baekhyun says against you, voice vibrating in his chest against your back. You twist your head to look at the hand squeezing your shoulder.

Embarrassment floods your veins at the intimate contact and you shrug yourself out of his hold. He doesn’t seem bothered by it.

“Keep away from the sides of the ship. We keep moving forward no matter what,” Baekhyun commands to your crew. Frozen in their spots, looks are thrown your way as if asking whether or not to follow his words.

You shrug. This isn’t your area of expertise. “You heard him, full sail ahead,” you call out. Your words snap everyone into action as members work to keep away from the edges of the ship while continuing to do their jobs.

It’s not long before the music gets louder, more insistent and the island is visible to the naked eye. It’s distracting, but you will not fall a fool to its melody. “Keep your minds clear! Do not trust anything that you may see outside of the Storm Chaser herself,” you shout as you walk around ensuring that things are going smoothly. You have to keep yourself busy to keep from listening too closely to the tune.

The call of the sirens starts to affect the members of your crew the closer the ship veers towards land. The younger crewmen are the most susceptible to the melody as their senses are blurred and beautiful images are projected in the waters. 3 members have to be forcefully dragged below deck as they’re caught, zombie-like, walking to the edge of the vessel hypnotized and willing to throw themselves into the sea.

They don’t seem to realize what’s wrong even as others try to explain to them that it’s just an illusion. You warned the crew ahead of time, but to see the siren song impacting your men so easily is frightening.

“Mom? Mom!?”

The music has dulled down to a faint buzz in the back of your mind, but you have a feeling that it must still be loud, if not louder, to others. Johnny struggles to restrain one of your newest boatswains, Lucas from jumping into the water. There are tears in the boy’s eyes as he screams out for his mother, eyes wide and hands reaching towards the waters. When you follow where he’s desperately trying to escape to with your eyes, you see a grotesque creature atop a rock peaking out of the ocean. It’s mouth is open in song, a grin so large on its face that it’s sharp teeth gleam in the light.

A siren.

Its skin is a shade of grey so dark that you dare liken it to a dark blue. Torn fins stretch between skinny fingers. Spikes made of its own bone protrude from its back and undulate with every note that floats from its mouth. You feel sick at the sight of it.

Lucas continues to scream towards the siren in anguish. Your heart hurts watching him look out at the monster with all the sadness, love, and regret you know that he had for his mother. You all know that his mother died earlier in the year, and that he hadn’t gotten a chance to say goodbye.

The sirens have already begun to resort to despicably low tactics.

Chanyeol runs over to help pull Lucas below deck as he thrashes against Johnny’s arms in an attempt to crawl overboard. You turn away, unable to watch the scene any longer. You know that with the two of them, they’ll be able to get Lucas safely below deck and calmed down.

Sehun is still at the hull, intensely focused ahead as he tries to safely keep the ship moving forward while trying to ignore the call of the sirens. As soon as the ship enters the passage that splits the island in half, the music stops.

You look around in confusion at the sudden silence, and only feel the feeling deepen at the sight of some of your crewman covering their ears as if they can still hear the singing.

You’re the only one who can suddenly hear nothing.

The rocks on the island sparkle like diamonds under the sunlight. The water that cascades down in miniature waterfalls tinkles pleasantly. The air feels crisp and clean, and if you were not aware that this is all meant to lower your guard, you would appreciate the beauty of the small paradise. A paradise or a well-disguised hell.

If you look beyond the shining rocks and the crystal clear waters, you can see signs of destroyed ships, shredded pieces of clothing, bones too similar to that of humans. Beneath it all is death. The end goal for the sirens is the death of you and your men. They’ll sing you to your demise.

Movement catches your eye from one of the rocks that overlooks the passageway. A woman with blonde hair and black eyes that pierce into your soul sits lazily overlooking your ship. She catches your eyes and a smile breaks out across her face. One dainty hand comes up to wave with nothing but a wiggle of delicate fingers.

You feel pulled into her bottomless gaze. It’s only when she stands up atop her rock that you realize she is naked save for a thin dress that seems to be made of water. The water moves with life, as if sentient around her body. It acts like some kind of clothing although it does nothing to cover her body.

She laughs and it chimes through the air like precious jewelry clinking together. You glare at her as she stretches out her muscles from above.

And then she jumps down from the cliff into the water below.

Like awakening from a spell, you snap out of your entrancement. Stricken by panic, you run off to find someone, anyone that you can to let them know of what you saw.  

Yixing is massaging his temples near the crew cabins when you catch sight of him and run up to him. You grab the front of his shirt tightly, frenzied. “I made eye contact with one of the sirens.”

“You what?!”

“I- Fuck I don’t know I wasn’t thinking. She didn’t…do anything to me…she jumped into the water though after. I think she was able to get a good look at everyone currently on deck. She jumped into the water I don’t know where she went,” you rush out. “If she manages to get aboard we are fucked. She could see everyone, and she definitely saw me.”

Yixing blanches. “Fuck…”

You swallow.

“Fuck!” He curses again. He looks around frantically at the members left above deck trying to ignore the pull of the sirens’ song. “Stay here. Stay up here; do not leave this deck. If they can transform into you now, there’s a better chance at catching them if we see two of you in one place, and this will be where they first appear,” he commands. “I’ll go inform Junmyeon and the rest of the crew about the one you saw.” Yixing rushes off and you stand in your spot unsure of what to do.

You can no longer go below deck or else you will put everyone’s safety in jeopardy. You’re a liability now.

All because of the blonde siren.

The song begins to fill your ears again and you almost want to laugh at the timing of it. It’s like they’re mocking you. Soft notes curl around your body and try to sway you towards the water.

You shudder violently and run up to Sehun.

“How much longer until we’ve cleared the island?”

“20 minutes if we keep moving without issue…as long as we can keep everyone aboard and safe,” he says through clenched teeth. His knuckles are disturbingly pale as he grips the wheel tightly and tries to maintain concentration.

So long as Sehun stays right where he is, things will be fine.

Just 20 minutes. You all can survive that.

You begin to wonder if the siren’s song has distorted the Atlantian song. Maybe that is why Junmyeon said that it was off earlier. The song may have been warning of distortion between the songs. He has to have some kind of cryptic advice or warning now that the music is audible to everyone on the ship.

You turn in circles in search for the black haired Atlantian. He’s nowhere to be seen above deck. Did he go below?

A splash shakes you from your thoughts. You turn in the direction of the noise, and then you hear the shouting.

Hesitantly you make your way toward the edge of the ship where the splashing and shouting has picked up volume.

You see Junmyeon thrashing wildly in the waters below.

Your blood goes cold.

“J-Junmyeon?” Your voice comes out weakly at the sight of him barely keeping himself afloat in the water. It has to be an illusion. You watch him struggle to keep his head above the water and your own body starts shaking in horror.

That can’t be Junmyeon. There’s no way that Junmyeon would fall overboard like that.

But the sound of his voice, the desperation in his tone as he screams out your name, that all sounds just like him.

The body in the water seems just like him.

But no one else seems to hear him. It’s only you.

That’s not him.

You pull yourself away from the sight of him.

Kyungsoo rushes by you and you reach out to stop him in his tracks. “Where’s Junmyeon?” you ask him worriedly.

He blinks and looks around the ship quickly. “I last saw him going below with Yixing,” he says with a frown. You nod and let go of his arm so that he can return to whatever he was running to do.

Trying not to let the sound of the false Junmyeon’s shouts trick you, you close your eyes and take a few steps away from the edge of the ship. It’s getting quieter, but the sound of his screams is still there.

Distracted, you bump into another body. You whirl around and come face to face with Baekhyun. You blink at him and all of a sudden the sound of Junmyeon yelling is gone.

Baekhyun looks at you with genuine concern. “Are you okay?”

“I…” you furrow your eyebrows and try to gather your thoughts, try to calm your racing heartbeat. The song of the sirens buzzes lightly in the back of your mind. “I thought that I heard Junmyeon fall overboard.”

Baekhyun frowns deeply and shakes his head. “Yixing took Junmyeon below deck. He said that he’d made eye contact with one of the sirens. Junmyeon didn’t want anyone to get confused and wanted to stay below to keep it clear where the real him is.”

You swallow at his words and turn to look back in the direction of where the fake Junmyeon had thrashed and called out for your help. Baekhyun grabs your arm and gently turns you away. “Hey, don’t fall for it. We have to keep going forward remember? That’s fake; that’s not Junmyeon,” he says while looking into your eyes.

You nod along to his words, but something in the pit of your stomach feels off. Something feels wrong.

If Junmyeon had gone below deck, he or Yixing would have told you. They would have told you the same way that Yixing went off to tell Junmyeon about what you saw.

Yixing told you to stay above deck after you made eye contact with that siren. Why would he take Junmyeon below deck if the same happened to him?

Baekhyun’s words feel off.

You look into his eyes, “You’re right.” You try to keep your tone even. “I’m going to go make sure that Junmyeon is alright then,” you say.

“No, you stay here. I’ll go check on him,” Baekhyun says quickly. He plasters on a smile to cover up how rapidly he decided to take the task upon himself.

It’s then that you know this is all wrong.

You shrug off the hand on your wrist and hold in a shiver. “I can do it,” you press on.

“I’ll go with you then!” he says. You give him a measured look. If not already looking for a break in the facade, you would have missed the way that the image of him wavers like a mirage in a desert for a split second. Sick rises in your throat.

This isn’t Baekhyun.

Your skin breaks out in goosebumps at the realization, but you try to maintain composure. You don’t want the siren to know that you’ve seen through her illusion.

“Okay, we can go together. Just give me one second,” you say. You spin on your heel and try your hardest not to let how unsettled you are show in your steps up to Sehun. At his side, you give Baekhyun a thumbs up and then pull Sehun down so that you can whisper in his ear. “Stop the ship right now,” you whisper quickly. You let go of him and ignore the look of confusion on his face in lieu of squeezing his arm as another silent “stop the ship”. Baekhyun watches your interaction closely but doesn’t mention it as you make it back to his side.

“Let’s go,” you say. Normally, you would grab Baekhyun’s wrist or arm to drag him along, but the thought of touching the siren makes your skin crawl, so you settle for walking in front and leading the way towards the ladder below deck. Your senses are on high alert as he follows silently behind you.

There’s no plan, but you know that you need to get rid of the siren as soon as possible. You just hope to the Gods that you’re right in your assumption and that it’s not actually Baekhyun following you.

It would really be fucked up if it’s the real him because of what you plan on doing next. You can’t think about it for too long.

You turn on your heel and with a quick inhale of breath to brace yourself –you shoot Baekhyun right in the chest.

He stumbles backwards, once, twice. From the wound, instead of warm red, out spills inky blue blood. Your hand wavers in relief, still pointed at who you thought was Baekhyun. The Baekhyun imposter looks down at the wound in shock, and then up with eyes shifting to full blackness. It releases a hiss and piercing screech that fills the ship; you fire another two shots right into its head. It falls to the ground with a thud. You watch it shift from what looked like Baekyun back into the ugly grey creature it is with fury.

“What the fuck!?” Kyungsoo shouts. You cock your head to the side and find that he watched the entire encounter. You exhale the breath you’d held in and lower your gun.

“Where’s Baekhyun?” you growl at Kyungsoo. He flinches at your tone and looks away from the body at your feet.

“He was helping calm Lucas down…he’s been in the crew cabins for a while now. Wha-”

You turn on Kyungsoo in the middle of his question in order to shout to anyone who can hear. Your fear from earlier has transformed into pure rage. They tricked you.

Fully and completely the sirens tricked you and now you know that what you saw earlier was the truth.

Junmyeon is no longer on the ship.

#exo #byun baekhyun #baekhyun #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo story #exo imagine #exo pirate au #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun story #baekhyun pirate au

[vintagevalentinex]

Decode, III

Alright folks!  Here is the next installation!

Please be gentle.  There are elements in this chapter that are very personal to me.  Some from personal experience, so I apologize if this “reader” isn’t exactly like you.

As always, please leave me some feedback!

xoxo

Decode, III by vintagevalentinexx Mycroft Holmes x Reader ~1825 words

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out.  

You steadied your breathing as you leaned against the wall in the hallway.  You hated when people stared like that, as if you were something other than a human being.  You dealt with those looks your entire life.  It was hard for you to help; you couldn’t help how easily some things came to you, it was just the way your mind worked.  It was the way you were hard-wired, and yet it was as though you were penalized for it.  The memories of grade school came rushing back, being bored because you had finished your work, being yelled at for reading a book, being made fun of and ridiculed by the other kids because you were more interested in ancient civilizations and cultures instead of MTV.  You kept your eyes shut as you tried to calm yourself down, feeling your heart slowly retain its normal speed.

“I suppose we got off on the wrong foot, Professor.”

Your eyes snapped open, revealing Mycroft Holmes staring intently at you.  It wasn’t in an overly affectionate way.  It was more out of curiosity.  His eyes lit up with understanding as you tried not to wither under his gaze.

“(Y/N), please call me (Y/N)…”

“There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, (Y/N).  If anything, there’s something wrong with all of them.”

You smiled softly, gratefully at him, feeling your breathing return to normal.

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes.”

Before he could even speak, another voice joined the conversation.

“Really now Mycroft, deducing the professor without her knowledge?  For shame.”

“As if you’re one to talk, Sherlock.  I’m sure that (Y/N) doesn’t mind.”

“Oh so you’re on a first name basis now?  How sweet.”

“She told us her name in the car, Sherlock.”

You were going to get whiplash with how quickly your head moved back and forth as you listened to them bicker yet again.

“Could you two please stop for one moment?!  What are you going on about?”

They both looked at you now; you were starting to really hate that.

“Mycroft was deducing you, not comforting you, Professor.”

“Deducing me?”

Mycroft took a deep breath, looking almost guilty as he had been found out.

“Sherlock it’s not the appropriate time or place for—“

“Nonsense.  Now Professor…By observing the way that you are dressed, it is quite simple to surmise that you strive to appear feminine, something that the overwhelming majority of your colleagues is not.  By overtly dressing in a manner which is quite opposite to that of the people whom which you work, it is a clear choice that you have made.  If I were to guess, my thought would be that it has been a way for you to stand out amongst your colleagues.  In a male dominated field such as yours, you have needed to be able to stand out as to not fall to the wayside.  Because of the demographics in your field, you have constantly had to prove yourself worthy of recognition and praise—“

“How did—“

“That brings us to the quality of your clothing.  It is actually quite good quality, which informs us that you invest in items that you wish to last.  While you may appear to be superficial and materialistic, you in all actuality just maintain your belongings as can be evidenced by the black permanent marker covering up the scuffing on your shoes—“

“I…I…”

“Sherlock, please—“

“Furthermore, from your behavior from before and now out here it is quite obvious that you, despite your superior intellect, suffer from anxiety dealing with social situations, and I would venture to guess in other situations as well.  This probably stems from several childhood experiences that—“

“Enough, Sherlock!”

You weren’t sure how you felt about the elder Holmes, but at that moment you were truly appreciative that he was able to make Sherlock stop.  At first, it was quite impressive that Sherlock was able to pull information merely from what you were wearing.  But as he continued, it became more and more uncomfortable for you to be scrutinized in such a manner.  Before he began he stated that Mycroft was deducing you as well.  Did he come to all those conclusions as well?  This was just too much.   You didn’t ask for any of this, and you weren’t going to stick around for it any longer.  Sherlock faced you once more, amusement shining in his eyes.

“My apologies, (Y/N). I wasn’t aware that you would be so…sentimental.”

You looked him right in the eyes, trying to keep your temper and feelings in check.

“While that is quite impressive, Sherlock, it only took me a mere glance at you to know that you are an immature prick.  Now seeing as I was brought here against my own volition and I am not getting compensated for any of this…this…lunacy, I will be leaving.  I hope to never waste another breath speaking to you.”

You turned away from the brothers, squaring your shoulders as you made your way towards the exit, feeling hot tears threatening to escape.

It was easy enough to hail a cab, giving the cabbie the directions back to your hotel.  Before you sped away, you gave one last glance toward the doors of the precinct, your eyes catching the older, wiser ones of Mycroft Holmes.

By the time you arrived back to your hotel you were absolutely exhausted.  Between giving an important presentation to further your career, being introduced to both of those Holmes brothers, and the nonsense down at Scotland Yard, you had certainly had your fill of London for a very long time.  You were longing for your own bed, and a stack of finals that would await your grading the following week.  All you wanted to do now was have a glass of wine, a bubble bath, and some peace before your flight tomorrow morning.

“Pardon me, but it seems as though my room key isn’t working.”

The women at the desk typed in your information, her eyebrows furrowing.  

“I’m sorry ma’am, but you are correctly checked out of your room.  Quite recently actually…”

“That’s impossible!  I’ve been out of the hotel nearly all day.  Please, is there something you can do?  Where are my belongings?!”

“That’s all I can tell you ma’am.  If you’re belongings aren’t on your person, there is not much I can do for you.”

You were about to give the reception a piece of your mind when you heard someone call your name.

“Excuse me, are you (Y/N)?”

You looked up, a pretty brunette with her eyes glued to her phone apparently was speaking to you.

“Um yes, yes I am. Can I help you?”

“All of your things have been moved to your new room, out of this decrepit hotel—“

Decrepit?  This wasn’t the best hotel in all of London, but you sure as hell weren’t staying in a hostel…

“You are being put in more suitable accommodations.  You should find that all of your belongings are there.”

“First of all, who the hell do you think you are switching my reservations?  I am certainly not paying for all of this?  How were you able to do this in the first place?  Who the hell are you?!”

You tried to keep your voice down but you had had enough for one evening.  It was at this point the pretty brunette looked up from her phone.

“My name is Anthea. I work with Mr. Holmes, and he has tasked me with making sure that you are given proper hotel accommodations for your stay in London.  Now if you would please come with me…”

“Did you say Mr. Holmes? Please tell me it’s not the one with the curly hair…because I’m a mere moment away from eviscerating him.”

She laughed, “No, but that does sound like him.  Please follow me; I’m sure you are quite tired.”

What other choice did you have?  Hopefully you wouldn’t end up dead in a ditch.  It was only for one night, after all.

You were barely in the room as you let out a soft gasp.  It was the most luxurious thing you’d ever seen.  Was this really necessary?  Plush carpeting, soft lighting, and a bed that looked as though if you lied down in it you would have to be surgically removed from its comfort.  

“Why…why did he do this?”

Without even looking up from her phone, Anthea replied.  “He wanted to extend his gratitude for your help earlier in the day…and his apologies for the event following your help.  Goodnight.”

She’s a real conversationalist.

You looked around the room, seeing that all your things had been put neatly away, the bed turned down for you, a bottle of wine next to the bed.  You spied a note on the pillow.

(Y/N),

I deeply apologize for my brother’s antics earlier today.  He seems to have no understanding over decorum as well as minding his own business. Please accept this upgrade to your lodgings as a request for forgiveness.

I must say, I was quite impressed with the ease at which you solved the coded message.  Perhaps the Scotland Yard could use your help.

I do hope to hear from you soon.

–M

You fell asleep in your clothes, too tired to even move, and too comfortable to escape the clutches of the bed.

[3 New Voicemails.]

Great, what could this be now?

[4:45 am] We deeply apologize, but your scheduled flight has been cancelled.  Please call back at your earliest convenience to reschedule.

Wonderful.

[5:00 am] Hello (Y/N), I know it’s early over there but it’s quite late here.  I am so pleased to hear that you are helping the Scotland Yard in such a riveting case. Do not worry about your request; take all the time you need in helping them solve their case!  Let me know how it goes!

What the hell?  I never put in any kind of leave of absence at the university?  What is going on?  

[5:15 am] Professor, this is Detective Inspector Lestrade.  Please give us a ring when you can.  We have two more coded messages that we could use your help on.

What is happening?  Who moved my flight and called the University?

[1 New Text Message.]

[6:44 am] I hope by now you understand what has been put into motion.  I apologize for the abruptness of it all, but it had to be done.  Allow me to make it up to you in some way.  Please let me know, this number is secure. –M

You were going to kill him.  How dare he?  He’d better have more than one pretty little girl surrounding him when you got your hands on him.

You furiously texted him back on your phone, throwing it across the bed when you were done.

[6:51 am] Fuck off.

Next Part!

#sherlock #mycroft #mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft holmes/reader #slow burn #reader insert #mycroft is bae

[hockeylvr59]

Promises Part 6 || Auston Matthews/Morgan Rielly

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: Another piece I have been sitting on partially completed for a decade and a half. This was not how I had planned on things going at first but well...my brain changed its mind and then this practically wrote itself. Team Auston v. Team Mo….let me know. ;)

Warnings: some cursing, illness, angst

Word Count: 3,245

~~~~~~

You’d spent the entire weekend ignoring Auston. Instead of spending your entire day at his place, you’d asked Maria to work daytimes and only gone over the evening that Auston had a game, arriving after he’d already left for the arena and settling into bed before he got home. You knew you shouldn’t be but you were still angry at him for the way he’d acted and the fact that he hadn’t even attempted to apologize. 

Tonight was your date with Morgan and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Your focus during class was at an all-time low and you spent every minute you had outside of class trying to decide what to wear. Morgan had said to wear something between casual and fancy and that was a very broad spectrum. Dresses had never been your friend, they always made you feel fat because they left your thick thighs and lower legs on display. Jeans were always what you felt most comfortable in but you weren’t sure if that was too casual. 

It was already three pm and you still had no clue what to wear. Flopping back onto your bed, you tried not to cry in frustration. Either you had the worst or the best luck because at that moment your phone rang, Ema Matthews’s name lighting up the screen. You sniffled a bit as you answered the phone and she quickly picked up on it asking if everything was okay. 

“I’m fine. Just hating my body right now.” The words had left your mouth before you could censor yourself and Ema’s motherly clucking reached your ears. 

“Does this have something to do with a certain date tonight?” She asked, tone slightly teasing but comforting at the same time. When you didn’t respond, feeling slightly guilty, you could hear her sighing softly. 

“You’re allowed to go out and have fun, y/n. I’m happy and excited for you. Morgan is a good guy who, from what I’ve heard, clearly adores you, he’ll treat you right. I know you have feelings for mi niño idiota (my idiot son) but give Morgan a chance.” 

“I want to...I’ve been thinking about the date all day. My silly self-conscious thoughts are currently taking over though because I’ve been struggling all day to figure out what to wear. I feel like jeans are too casual but dresses make me feel fat and I want to look good.” Your tone was defeated and you hated feeling this way but all attempts to push past it had failed thus far. 

Your phone vibrated in your hands and you couldn’t help but smile seeing that Ema had requested to switch to facetime. Accepting the request you adjusted your phone while wiping at your eyes. 

“Show me your closet dear. We’ll find you something to wear.” She assured you. You were grateful that she didn’t comment on your insecurities but instead simply wanted to find a solution. Your closet was a bit of a mess from digging through it off and on all day but you slowly scanned your phone around it to give Ema an idea of what you had. You were by no means a fashionista so there really wasn’t much of a selection. “Grab those teal pants.” Ema directed and you pulled out the hanger, laying it on your bed. They weren’t technically jeans but a little bit nicer of a pant and you wondered why you hadn’t thought about them before. 

Ema had you pick out a few blouses, showing her what they would look like with the pants and asking about which were ones you were more comfortable in. Eventually, she settled on a simple black blouse that had ¾ length sleeves. Since you weren’t much of a heel person she directed you to wear your black toms flats and after looking over your jewelry simply picked out a single strand pearl necklace that you’d been given for your undergraduate graduation. 

“What’s the weather like there today dear?” She asked and when you told her it was mid-40s she mentioned grabbing the tan cardigan that was also hanging in your closet as an extra layer in case you got cold. “You’re going to look beautiful. I’ll let you go so that you can do your hair and makeup even though you don’t need to. Take a deep breath and have fun.” She declared and following her direction you focused on your breathing. 

“Thank you, Ema...I really appreciate your help.” You murmured. 

“It’s not a problem. Make sure to send me pictures so that I can torture my son with them.” She teased causing you to laugh softly before assuring her that you would and hanging up. 

----

It was almost 5:30 before you had finished curling your hair and applying light makeup. Morgan was supposed to pick you up in half an hour and you still needed to change and calm your nerves. Quickly you turned some music on, wondering why you hadn’t thought of it before. The sound of the music caused you to relax a little and within fifteen minutes you were dressed. After applying some essential oils to your wrists and neck as perfume, you slid all your necessary items into a small crossbody purse and moved to the couch to wait for Morgan to arrive. 

Thankfully, a knock sounded on your door right at six and after mentally yelling at yourself to stop your hands from shaking you quickly moved to answer it, smiling as the tall defenseman appeared in front of you. He was wearing a simple pair of black pants and a grey button-up and his left hand contained a small bouquet of flowers. Looking him over your heart rate spiked and when his voice reached your ears commenting on how beautiful you looked you felt your cheeks flush with warmth. 

“You clean up well too, though everyone kind of already knew that.” You murmured, reminding yourself to breathe. 

“Oh, these are for you…” He trailed off, having realized that the flowers were still in his hand. Taking them from him you couldn’t help but smile and motioned for him to come inside while you moved to put them into a vase. 

“They’re beautiful, thank you.” You declared, cutting the steps quickly to arrange them while Morgan looked around your living room. With not really living there half the time it was pretty clean thankfully. Pictures of your family and a few of Owen and Auston are scattered around various surfaces and while it seems normal to you, you can’t help but worry that it will seem odd to him. 

He didn’t say anything as he finally came around to lean across the breakfast bar in front of you though. Tossing the excess stems, you wiped your hands on a dishtowel before setting the vase up on the counter of the bar. “All set.” You stated, moving around to the other side of the counter. Morgan’s hand slipped into the curve of your lower back in a guiding motion and after settling from the initial jolt you flushed as another feeling of pure warmth flooded up your spine. 

When you reached his car, Morgan opened the door for you and helped you in before heading around to the driver’s seat. As soon as he started the car, soft music flooded through the speakers and you smiled at the song that was playing over the radio. The drive to the restaurant was quiet but it wasn’t awkward and when you arrived Morgan gave his name to the hostess and the two of you were led back to a corner table. Its location hid you from prying public eyes and you were grateful because you’d surfaced in a few photos with Auston and the social media response hadn’t been so good. You didn’t want to think about what it would be like in a setting that was clearly a date. 

When the waiter came by the first time Morgan ordered wine for the two of you. Looking around the restaurant you smiled seeing that it was nice but not overly fancy to where it made you feel uncomfortable. Alone again, Morgan insisted that you order whatever you want and after it was clear that you’d made a decision he asked about school. Though you weren’t sure how this date would go, you were surprised at how easily you got along with Morgan. He was kind and attentive and his questions showed that he really was listening and interested in getting to know the bits of you that didn’t involve you taking care of his teammate's baby. 

As you sipped on wine and ate some of the best Italian food you’d ever had in your life, you chatted with Morgan about your childhoods, your interests and your plans for the future. In turn, Morgan shared stories about himself, making you laugh repeatedly and filling your heart with a feeling that you wanted so many more nights just like this. 

Morgan had been trying to convince you to order dessert, claiming that if you ordered it he could steal some but that his trainer wouldn’t have to know when your phone started ringing from inside your clutch beside you. It was a ringtone attached to Auston and you groaned audibly murmuring an apology to Morgan as you reached inside to stop the device from making noise. 

Auston had to know that you were on a date and it made you angry that now he was calling when he hadn’t bothered in days. The second you silenced your phone it rang again and when you declined the call immediately it rang a third time. Shaking your head you completely silenced your phone before tossing it back into your purse. From across the table, Morgan sent you a concerned look. 

“Auston is just being a pain. I’m sorry.” You murmured. The second the words left your mouth Morgan’s phone rang and after showing you that it was Auston calling him as well, Morgan answered. 

“Dude...she’s made it pretty clear that she doesn’t want to talk to you right now.” Morgan immediately stated but even from across the table you could hear the pained screams of a baby through the phone. 

“Put her on please…” Auston begged him and with a sigh Morgan handed the phone to you, both of you slightly alarmed by the sound of Owen in the background. “Fuck Y/N. I’m sorry. You’re pissed at me and you have every right to be but please...Owen has been throwing up and I don’t know what to do.” He murmured and you could hear the fear in his voice. Glancing across the table Morgan sent you a supportive nod and you sighed. 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Do you have a thermometer to take his temperature?” You questioned. Across the table, Morgan was flagging down the bill and by the time you were off the phone with Auston, Morgan was offering you a hand up from the table. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered to him as you handed his phone back. “I can take an uber over if you want.” You added not wanting to drag him into the mess that seemed like it was going to continue to follow you despite how wonderful tonight had been. 

“Don’t be silly.” Morgan insisted, his hand falling to your lower back as he led you out of the restaurant. “Do we need to stop at a drugstore?” He questioned and you merely nodded at him, worry growing in the pit of your stomach. Owen was still so small and his immune system was even weaker than most babies due to the circumstances of his birth and not being breastfed. As you reached Morgan’s car, he simply pulled you close to him for a hug. “He’s going to be okay.” He insisted and within a minute you were tucked into his car as he drove to the nearest drugstore. 

When he pulled up out front, you promised that you would be back in just a minute. Morgan murmured to take your time and you quickly hopped out, bursting into the store to search for the aisles containing what you needed. After a few minutes, you had picked up some Pedialyte, a temporal thermometer, and a thing of baby pain reliever just in case. It wasn’t long after you climbed back into Morgan’s car before you had arrived at Auston’s building. 

With Morgan following, you headed upstairs and let yourself into Auston’s apartment, the sound of Owen screaming immediately filling your ears. Auston was attempting to rock him, standing in front of the tv and after dropping the shopping back to the couch, you immediately reached out for the infant. Auston didn’t hesitate in handing him over and you quickly dropped your lips to Owen’s head. He felt slightly warm but not overly so, but the fact that he had been throwing up worried you more than anything. Rubbing his back you just tried to soothe him, the ache in your stomach growing even more. 

“Can one of you open the thermometer for me and can the other fill up one of Owen’s 4 oz bottles with some Pedialyte?” You questioned. It seemed like it was only then that Auston realized that Morgan had come with you though he obviously had known the two of you had been out together. Thankfully though, neither said a word as they worked to do what you had asked, everyone’s efforts fully on taking care of the baby. 

Owen’s screams had quieted a little bit by the time Morgan handed you the thermometer and after running it across Owen’s forehead you sighed in relief. He had a slightly elevated fever but it honestly wasn’t anything to be too concerned about though he did seem paler than normal. 

“Shhh.” You attempted soothing him once more, this time singing softly to him until his eyes were peering up at you but not a sound fell from his lips. “That’s a boy.” You praised, now noticing Auston standing behind you with the small bottle. “Let’s see if we can get you to drink a little something. It’ll make you feel better.” You murmured and after adjusting him in your arms you offered him the bottle. The moment he saw it he started fussing again and you bit your lip, thinking. It took a few more tries for him to take it but when he noticed that it wasn’t his normal drink he sucked eagerly. 

“Hey, Auston...bring me his formula?” You requested and though he seemed puzzled Auston did just that. Looking over the side of the container you gasped and everything suddenly made sense. “When did you pick this one up...and from where?” You questioned. Though Auston answered it was clear that he didn’t understand why you were asking. 

Handing the container back you murmured for him to look at the date and when he did he cursed softly. “Language.” You reminded him softly, just grateful that Owen seemed to at least be feeling a little bit better now. You knew Auston was now blaming himself and you sighed, brushing your fingers over the light hair on Owen’s head. “It’s not your fault Auston...but it is something you need to be aware of in the future.” The formula was nearly a year expired and after seeing Owen’s behavior you were certain that it had been making him feel sick which was why he’d been throwing up. 

“You need to take it back to the store and demand a replacement.” You directed. “Maybe not tonight but if you don’t have any other formula that’s good then you do need to get something because he can’t drink Pedialyte all night.” For one little feeding, it was okay, it would keep him hydrated and settle his stomach but it was not going to give him the nutrition he needed to be used any longer than that. 

With a sigh, Auston murmured that he would be right back and you heard him grab his keys and wallet before walking out the door. It was only once he was gone that you sat down with Owen on your lap now babbling happily since he had finished the Pedialyte. Once you were seated you felt Morgan approach before sitting next to you. 

“I’m sorry our date was ruined.” You whispered, not wanting to startle the infant who was slowly drifting off, exhausted from his screaming fit. 

“Our date wasn’t ruined…” Morgan insisted, his hand resting gently on your knee as he watched you care for Auston’s child. “You love him don’t you?” He questioned after a moment. 

“Of course I love Owen...he’s pretty hard not to love.” You declared, kissing his soft head and smiling as he clung tighter to you in response. 

“That’s not what I meant and you know it. You love Auston.” Morgan stated softly causing you to sigh. 

“It wouldn’t matter if I did Mo.” You breathed, though you were slightly uncomfortable talking about it. “I’m on a date with you, aren’t I? Or at least I was…” You trailed off. 

“Hey….it’s okay.” Morgan insisted. “Just because you love Auston doesn’t mean that we can’t enjoy our time together. And if I can help you make Auston see sense well then all the better. You’re a special woman y/n. You deserve to be happy.” He declared and you watched as he rubbed a large hand over Owen’s back. “And even if I can only make you happy for right now...well that’s at least something.” 

Turning your head you couldn’t help but take Morgan in for a moment, he was such a wonderful man and you really didn’t know how to process everything he’d just told you. Leaning forward you pressed your lips against his lightly, feeling him smile against you. “You’re gonna make some woman very very lucky someday.” You assured him. 

“Does that mean I can make you happy until then?” He questioned teasingly. 

“If you’re willing to deal with all of this bs...I’d like nothing more Mo.” You murmured, kissing him softly once more, letting it linger until you pulled away needing to breathe. 

“Perfect. Do you know how to skate yet?” Morgan questioned looking shocked when you admitted that you didn’t. “Then that’ll be date two.” He declared, bright smile on his face. “Are you staying here tonight or going home?” He asked after a moment and you sighed thinking about it. On one hand, you were certain Owen was going to be fine, on the other you weren’t so sure Auston wasn’t still going to be freaking out which would cause Owen to feel unsettled and upset. Seeing the look on your face, Morgan kissed you one final time before standing up. 

“Stay here tonight. Make sure the little dude is okay and that Auston doesn’t lose his mind. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He stated, his hands dropping to fall into his pockets. “I had a really good time tonight. So don’t go overthinking it.” He teased, causing you to nod in agreement, standing up to see him out. 

Once Mo was gone, you laid Owen down in his crib before collapsing back onto Auston’s couch. Tonight had just made everything even more complicated and you groaned unsure of how all of this was going to play out. 

Chapter outfit: 

#auston matthews #auston matthews imagine #morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #toronto maple leafs #toronto maple leafs imagine #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #plus size hockey imagine #tleafs #006

[kaffeinic]

Caffeinic | Bang Chan

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | Epilogue

Pairing: Reader x Barista!Bang Chan

Genre: Fluff // Romance

Warnings: Fem!Reader

Preamble: You’ve been going to the same coffee shop for the past four years. You’ve ordered the same thing almost every single day, and you never, ever skip on that part of your morning. So, when Mrs. Park hired a new barista and the once serene café was suddenly flooded with people every second of the day, you were less than thrilled.

As you both left, Junseok told you that Seoyeon would probably be at the gym for the next two hours. She had been trying to convince him to bring Chan over. After saying your goodbyes, you and Chan piled yourselves into his car.

“I know that it isn’t a necessity, but I’ve really missed my phone.” You said, laughing. He subtly rolled his eyes.

“Kids these days...” He said.

“We are in the same generation!” You playfully yelled. He giggled, turning his key. The car roared to life, and he wasted no time in pulling out of the café’s parking lot.

“So, how are we thinking of going about this?” He asked.

“Just walk up to her and ask for the phone back?” You answered hesitantly. He glanced at you and chuckled.

“Yeah, that’ll definitely work.” He said. You watched the road, sifting through your options.

“Do we have a way to prove it?” You asked. Chan sat in thought before nodding.

“If you give me your number, I’ll call it.” He said. “I’m sure it’s still on. With any luck, it’s with her.” He added. You smiled nervously. You were never one to outwardly confront someone about something like this in public, preferring to remain passive and avoid fights.

“Is this just your way of getting my number?” You asked. He laughed.

“If I can kiss you in the back of a café and not be allowed to have your number, I’d be genuinely surprised.” He retorted. You smiled at him.

“Yes, you can have my number, you dork.” You said. Chan pulled up at the curb of the gym, looking at you with his phone open to the phoning application. You recited your number, watching as he dialed. You heard ringing, but no answer.

“At least we know it’s on.” He said. “Let’s go, love.” You blushed at the nickname, which was funny, because he called you a few other pet names earlier and you didn’t have any form of reaction. Maybe it’s because you know you’re both an ‘item’ now?

Before you could manage to, Chan had moved to your side of the car, opening the door for you. Once you stepped out, you felt his hand catch yours. He stopped you for a moment to intertwine your fingers, smiling. With that, you were off.

The gym was definitely for the higher class portion of society. When you walked in, it became very apparent. You noted the high ceilings and intricate lighting. From the outside, you knew the building was huge, but it felt even larger once you entered. You felt Chan lightly tug your arm to bring you to the concierge who was manning the front desk.

“Oh, hey there, Chan!” The boy said. He seemed to be in his late teens, and very familiar with the Aussie. You were surprised to see that he wasn’t Asian. You had gotten so used to the trademark features of people from Korea that when you saw a foreigner, it threw you for a loop.

“Hey, mate. Can I visit someone really quickly?” He asked. The boy nodded and handed him a visitor’s pass.

“One for your friend, too?” He asked. Chan nodded.

“Of course.”

The boy handed you a visitor’s pass, which was a clip nametag on a lanyard. Once you put it on, you smiled.

“Thank you.” The boy nodded and waved.

“I’ll see you later, bro.” He said to Chan. Chan grinned and waved as well.

“See you!”

You followed Chan as he expertly navigated the building.

“Do you have a second job that I don’t know about?” You asked. Chan stopped and raised a brow at you inquisitively.

“No..?” He said. “Why do you ask?”

“You walk around like you’ve been coming here for a while, and this place is definitely not your average gym.” You said. He laughed.

“I’m sure you noticed my friend at the counter. I was acting as his personal trainer for a few months. He wanted to learn how to use the kind of equipment that they have here. I already knew from the gym that I go to, so... Yeah.” He said. You laughed.

“I’m not grilling you. I was just curious.” You said, grabbing his hand. “Let’s go.” He grinned, continuing the journey to find Seoyeon. He stopped at a door near the end of a hallway somewhere in the building. ‘Somewhere,’ because you don’t actually know where in the gym you are. He released your hand, opening the door.

Seoyeon was listening to music through her headphones, running on a treadmill. The rest of the room - which was filled with various types of athletic equipment - was vacant otherwise. You watched as Chan whipped out his phone, calling your number. You could hear the faint sound of your ringtone coming from one of Seoyeon’s bags. She unplugged her ears and walked over to the phone, switching it off.

“So you do have it.” You said. She turned to face you, noticing Chan and immediately standing straighter with a plastic smile.

“Have what?” She asked.

“Her phone. Are you really going to try to deny it?” Chan said. The boy from the front desk walked into the room, standing next to you.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

“We’re resolving an issue. She took my phone.” You said. Both of you had spoken quietly to avoid interrupting the conversation.

“I don’t have her phone.” Seoyeon said, placing her hands on her hips. Chan grimaced.

“Well, I have her number. I just called it, and it rang from your bags. Explain that.” He said. Her smile faltered for only a moment.

“Coincidence.”

“If it was a coincidence, then I guess if I call it again, we won’t hear another phone ringing from your stuff?” Chan asked. Seoyeon remained silent. He dialed your number, raising a brow when the resounding ringtone echoed in the room.

“Gym members can be subject to unscheduled bag checks if the attending employee wdeems it necessary.” The boy next to you said. It was obvious he took the quote right out of the rule book.

“You can’t look at my stuff!” Seoyeon yelled.

“Yes, I can - and I will.” He made his way across the room to the bench where her belongings laid, sifting through until he found a cell phone. Even from the distance, you were sure it was yours. “Ma’am?” He asked. You nodded.

“It’s mine.” You confirmed. Chan rang your number once more for the extra bit of proof. Seoyeon’s face was mortified when it rang in the boy’s hand. He walked over and handed you your phone, to which you thanked him. Chan placed his arm around you, and the boy made an audible ‘oh’ sound.

“So, you’re the girl he was telling me about last week?” He asked. “I’m Sam.”

“I’m Y/n.” You replied, shaking his hand. He smiled.

“It’s very nice to meet you.” He turned to Seoyeon. “This incident is going on your record. This is your second strike.” He said. Seoyeon’s face puffed when she pouted at him.

“But Sammy~!” She whined. He held up his hand.

“Nope.” He turned to you and Chan, who were both giggling at his blatant little ‘nope.’ “I hope I’ll get to know you better in the future. In the meantime, I’ll be teasing Channie here for a while.” Chan visibly grimaced, squeezing your shoulder. You chuckled at the two boys and their comments. Seoyeon pushed through the three of you with her bags to exit the gym, stomping loudly with every step. Sam rolled his eyes.

“I think we’ll be off. Thanks for everything, bro.” Chan said to Sam. They said their goodbyes, and you and Chan exited the room. Once you made it to the front doors of the gym, you stopped him.

“Thank you, Channie.” You said. He grasped both of your hands in his, smiling at you.

“Don’t thank me. I’ll be blowing up your phone for days.” He said. You laughed, moving closer. You gave him a soft hug, to which he reciprocated with a firm squeeze. “You know, at some point, I’ll take you on a successful date.” He said.

“I have time now.” You replied. His face lit up with a smile as he jumped around in his spot.

“Coffee time!” He said. You threw your fists into the air enthusiastically.

“Coffee time!”

~

Fanart for this chapter:

This lovely collage is by @punk-pan-bih-yeets-thru-life. Please send her your love! If you want to make some fanart, send it in~! You’ll get credit.

Is-

Is Caffeinic finished?

Have I finally completed one full-length fanfiction?

Yes, yes I have.

I really hope you all enjoyed this story! I’ve worked for a while on it and always found inspiration from you guys! The feedback you’ve given has truly brought me a lot of happiness. I have a bit of an epilogue in the works for this story. If you want to read it, let’s get the total number of notes for Caffeinic to 2000! At the time of posting this, the total was at 1004. We can do it! I may or may not crack before we get there, but I urge you to hit this goal with me. As always, if you enjoyed, please drop a like, comment, and/or reblog to show your friends this story! Thank you all so much for reading!

* DISCLAIMER: I do not own any gifs/photos used in this post. I do own the written content. Do NOT repost/edit. *

🏷 @punk-pan-bih-yeets-thru-life • @hoshithehamster • @woo-for-woojin • @deceased-pumpkin-babe • @ethereal-chanracha • @midnatwlp • @joohowdy • @ckyunwon • @yeollliee • @aquietkerfuffle • @royalhvangs

#kpop #fanfictions #headcannons #reactions #ships #imagines #stray kids #bang chan #skz #chan #stray kids bang chan #stray kids chan #skz bang chan #skz chan #christopher bang #chris bang #3racha #cb97 #caffeinic #coffee #love #romance

[evilsnowswan]

Summary: [Rumbelle Mermaid!AU] based on this prompt by repeatinglitanies: “In a world where people are aware of the existence of mermaids, Belle is a mermaid who lives in the world’s largest aquarium along with other sea creatures. She enjoys looking at the little humans who come to visit, especially a floofy haired boy who comes every week with his father….” An injured Belle is captured and brought to Gold and Milah’s aquarium. Gold is a marine biologist dedicated to protecting the creatures there, Milah wants to turn a profit, and their son has his own ideas about how to befriend a mermaid.

Rating: G/Teen Link to full story: [Read on AO3] Previous Chapters: [Coverart][Chapter 1][Chapter 2][Chapter 3][Chapter 4][Chapter 5][Chapter 6][Chapter 7][Chapter 8][Chapter 9][Chapter 10][Chapter 11][Chapter 12][Chapter 13][Chapter 14][Chapter 15][Chapter 16][Chapter 17][Chapter 18][Chapter 19][Chapter 20]

Current Chapter: 21/? Chapter Summary: Milah is having a - well, she is having a day™.

Chapter 21: Bullet

Well, she thought, fingers drumming on the steering wheel of her MB. That was unexpected. He had finally managed to impress her – and Milah wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

Had she chosen to play this by his rules? Yes. Had she expected him to fall for it? Absolutely.

But this? This hadn’t been part of the plan.

Some brainless idiot honked and she started, putting her turn signal on and making a right before the traffic light turned red again.

This wasn’t how she’d pictured it. This had come out of nowhere. And trouble was, it had her second guessing – him, herself, and most inconveniently, the plan. And really, Milah thought, what did that say about her?

Perhaps Mother was right.

Just what Mother would say about this though, Milah didn’t have to guess. Mother would have a fit (a deadly cold and silent one). She could picture it now. And the picture made something stir inside of her, rear its sleepy head, and scream at the top of its lungs: defiance.

So what?!

So what if she had slept with her husband? So what if she had enjoyed it?

That wasn’t a crime, was it? And it was none of Mother’s business anyway. She could still carry on as planned, couldn’t she? One surprise shag in the middle of the night didn't change a single thing.

Or did it?

Milah shifted into 5th and hit the gas pedal. She heard the transmission purr as the speedometer quickly registered just slightly over the limit. Whatever. On top of everything, she was on the verge of being late, and she still had quite a bit of ground to cover and an important errand to run before her lunch meeting.

She’d make it work. Just like she always did.

Milah played with the gas and felt the power of the twin turbo engine. Over four thousand pounds worth of German engineering yielded to her touch and leapt forwards. This was a car built to sneer at speed limits and she welcomed the familiar tug at her middle as she leaned back against soft leather.

Her jet black Mercedes-Benz SL 65 AMG sped past the town sign and the deep green of the fir trees swallowed them whole as it shot down the highway, travelling north.

***

Sitting at the table she’d been shown to by one of the Château’s waiters, Milah glanced down at the silver cutlery, checking her own reflection in the back of a spoon. She had touched up her lipstick in the car, and couldn’t detect so much as a single curl out of place. Good. She was ready and had come prepared. And, miraculously, she was a couple minutes early, which meant she was just on time.

Her business date, however, was not.

After maybe ten more minutes of catching her breath and tight-lipped smiling at waiting staff, the woman she was supposed to meet finally appeared, strolling in behind a young waitress who was making a beeline for her table.

Milah got to her feet with a cool smile.

“Mrs. Montgomery-Gold. How do you do?” The head of the Mills Foundation said, holding out her hand with a smile like she wasn’t late.

“How do you do?”

The two of them sat down, and Cora Mills took the liberty of ordering sparkling water, wine, grilled octopus with bell pepper-compote and olive tapenade, and a mixed salad for the both of them. Like it was 1950.

If it were 1950, Milah mused, she would be the woman in this scenario. While she had no qualms with her gender, she understood the power move perfectly well.

“The Foundation hopes you are satisfied with our product?”

Milah felt her cheeks color.

“Yes, thank you. It met all expectations,” she gave back in what she hoped was a similar no-nonsense tone. The expression ‘exceeded all expectations’ still rolled around on her tongue, but she swallowed it back forcefully. Milah Montgomery would not roll over that easily.

“Wonderful.” Cora Mills signaled a passing waitress and quietly spoke to the young girl in a hushed voice. The poor thing promptly turned beet-red and scurried off to remedy whatever complaint the older woman had whispered in her mortified ear. “We can see from your reports that the mermaid’s health is improving, is that correct?”

Milah thought about the files in her bag under the table. Decided against it. “Yes. Medical is confident the mermaid is responding well to treatment and care.”

“She’s ready for Phase Two then, I presume.”

“Yes.”

“Excellent.”

Their drinks arrived. Milah could almost smell the fear on the waiter who poured their water. Cora Mills had to be a regular here.

“The mermaid is physically ready for Phase Two,” She took a sip of her sparkling water. In the back of her mind, a small part of her wondered about Murchadh’s reaction – once she broke the news to him. Perhaps she shouldn’t? “However, our knowledge of her species’ reproductive system is still limited. To commence Phase Two immediately seems unwise.”

Cora Mills fixed her with a stern look. “Since I don’t have any of my people on the ground –”

Milah had made damn sure of that. No Foundation reps would get to meddle in affairs at her aquarium. She had drawn a hard line in the sand, so to speak. A necessary precaution.

“I have to trust your judgement and recommendation on the matter.” Her smile was steel; no warmth in her brown eyes as she leaned a little closer. “However, I do trust a Montgomery’s word.”

Milah bowed her head, taking the thinly veiled threat as a compliment.

The food arrived and both women reached for their napkins at the exact same moment.

Silence fell.

This wasn’t the last Milah would be hearing about granting the Foundation more – unrestricted – access, oh no, but she was ready for that fight when it came knocking again.

Grilled octopus wasn’t as bad as it sounded.

A thought best kept to herself and not shared with either husband or son. Swallowing, Milah lowered her fork and knife and discreetly pushed the remainder of the dead sea-creature towards a piece of blackened bread on her plate. She turned her attention to her salad instead.

She was certain, Cora Mills wouldn’t have connived an imperfection such as a slightly burned slice of Ciabatta. Neither would her mother. But Milah was her own woman, and burnt bread was the least of her problems right now.

“It’s a shame. Montgomery born and bred were the best we ever had.” Cora Mills swirled her Cabernet Sauvignon. Her lips were the same color as her drink: bold red.

The damn dogs.

Milah finished chewing her food in silence before dabbing at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. She was no stranger to proper manners. She had been raised to never forget them after all.

“Thank you.” She reached for her own wine and inclined her head, before taking a calculated sip.

“I was very sorry to hear about your father’s passing.”

Milah crossed and uncrossed her legs under the table. “He was a good man and will be missed.”

“Give your mother my best,” Cora Mills said with an expression that made Milah straighten her shoulders. “How is Ethel?”

“Very well, thank you.”

Sitting ramrod-straight, Milah bit the inside of her cheek. Going into this meeting she had been prepared for a lot of things, but discussing her late father or her mother – her private life, her family – with a perfect stranger, a business partner, a person like Cora Mills, left an unpleasant aftertaste in her mouth.

What was the woman playing at?

Cora Mills’ lips curved into a smile. It wasn’t a good one.

“I’ve had our specialists draw up a list of all data still required,” she said, her tone no longer fake-cordial, but all business again. “To determine the right course of action for Phase Two.” She cleared her throat. “Once we have your ‘go ahead’ for the venture, of course.”

Milah nodded, eying the folders sliding towards her side of the table.

“Highly confidential,” Cora Mill’s voice was lowered unnecessarily. The closest tables were empty and staff seemed to be giving a wide berth to theirs. “You understand, I’m sure.”

“Of course.” Milah put a hand on the papers.

“Lovely.” With a glance at her watch, Cora Mills got to her feet and Milah hastened to do the same. “If you’ll excuse me. Other pressing matters to attend to.” They shook hands again. “Pleasure working with you.”

“We’ll be in touch.”

Without so much as a glance back at Milah or their table, Cora Mills turned on her heels to leave.

After a moment’s hesitation, Milah sat back down. She felt strangely dissatisfied, an unpleasant feeling creeping up her spine. She wasn’t used to being made to feel small and inadequate. Those days were long behind her and she had no desire to relive them.

With a small sigh, she looked at her own watch and deduced she had time to satisfy her curiosity at least, and take a look at what was inside those folders on the table, before heading back home.

Once plates and drinks had been cleared, she poured over the new materials – while the young waitress kept refilling the coffee she had ordered. Black, two sugars.

***

It had gotten later. Later than planned, anyway.

Main Street was busier now than when she’d left it. People carrying shopping bags up and down the street, greeting friends, sitting down for a post-work coffee or an early dinner.

As she unlocked the car, the sun had sunk low enough to tint the rooftops a soft orange and red; the wet cobblestone glistened a damp golden yellow. It was still warm enough, she supposed, but you could already feel a fall night coming in the air.

She eased open the driver’s-side door and, unceremoniously, threw her bag into the back.

Time to go home.

Milah shivered as she sank onto cold leather and removed the sunglasses from her hair to shove them in the glove compartment. She rubbed the bridge of her nose and leaned back in her seat, her hands coming up to pull the pins from her updo and let her curls fall loose.

Dropping the hair pins onto the dashboard, her eyes flickered to the small paper bag on the passenger seat, and she sighed, hand resting on the keys in the ignition.

One more thing.

Feeling a heavy tiredness wash over her, she ran her fingers through her hair and rested her forehead against the smooth steering wheel, linking her hands behind her head.

What had she gotten herself into?

If the people of Storybrooke could see her now, she’d be the talk of the town come morning. Discretion and privacy were non-existent in the town’s collective vocabulary.

Just one of the reasons, Milah was glad to have swapped small-town-gossip for big-city-anonymity for the day. Out here, no one cared who she was or what she was doing with her life. In the city, she could simply walk into a drug store, any drug store, and get what she needed to do what she had to.

The damn day had filled her with a strange mix of nostalgia, regret, and guilt.

Throat closing up and chest tight, she turned in her seat and emptied the contents of the inconspicuous paper bag out onto the passenger seat: a small water bottle, Advil, paracetamol, some Pepto-Bismol, a pack of tissues, glow-in-the-dark band-aids with Star Wars insignia for Bae, Plan B, and a pack of gum – cherry flavored, the kind that made the largest bubbles without popping and didn’t taste like old tire 15 seconds in.

Milah let out a breath.

Here went nothing.

Popping the small white pill into her mouth, she waited for a few seconds, then swallowed, and reached for the water bottle to wash it down properly.

She tossed the packaging into the footwell and turned the keys.

The engine caught, she put the car in gear, hit the gas, and the engine flooded and died on her.

“Arghhh, fuck.” She swore under her breath, her neck prickling as the expletive rolled off her tongue like a boulder.

“Come on!”

She turned the key again; the engine caught. She made a gentler attempt on the gas pedal this time and coaxed a steady purring sound from the engine. Good car. She reversed and smoothed into traffic.

They rolled past storefronts and restaurants at crawling speed.

Oh, the joys of evening rush hour. Bullshit on the radio and morons on the road. Milah fiddled with the buttons on the radio, flipping through five or six different channels, before calling it quits and feeding it a CD.

Tracy Chapman’s deep and charismatic vocals filled the small space, and Milah found herself humming along, mouthing her favorite parts.

Traffic stopped at a red light and she opened the window slightly. A burst of cold air pushed inside. Drops of water splattered onto the windshield. The red light changed colors and Milah hit the gas pedal, dirt and pebbles kicking up behind the rear tires.

She already felt the migraine coming on, pressure building behind her eyes and temples, and clenched her jaw, gripping the wheel a little tighter.

9 and 3 o'clock. Hands at 9 and 3 o'clock.

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #mermaid!belle #ouat fanfiction #rumbelle au #my fic #fic: indigo #i'm on a roll

[annakie]

An Annotated Mass Effect Playthrough, Part Six

Wherein we get out into space and explore a bit, and complete our crew.

And post a lot of gifs, because screenshots were lost.

List of Posts: 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

So I use the NVidia Control Panel app to take screenshots and videos.  Since it’s already running and it takes good shots it seems dumb to not use it.

I ended up being super busy this week and didn’t play much, just got through like, talking to Kaidan after the big speech on the bridge more or less for the entire week, and through Therum.  I updated my drivers a day or two ago.  And then I didn’t notice that for whatever reason, yesterday when I went to play for a few hours, NVidia decided to record videos just fine, but not take screenshots.  I probably actually mashed the button several hundred times.... but all I got were videos.

Most of it wasn’t a great loss, it was a lot of talking to the crew, and a few planetary missions which... so I’m going to have to go back and redo some of it later for screenshots.

But I thought... hey, for posting on tumblr, I’ll just make it a shorter update and make a few gifs and most this a mostly-gif post!  That’ll be fun!

...and then I spent several hours making almost 80 gifs, including a lot of what I also had screenshots for but thought making gifs would be more fun.  

I mean I was watching the last few eps of the newest season of Great British Bake Off on Netflix, and a few other shows this morning so it wasn’t just gif time... but yeah I made a lot.  So I might split this into two posts now because... that’s a lot of gifs. This post will still have a lot of screenshots, too.  So here we go!

There are so many things to love about this moment.  It’s such a great like, re-launch of the game... Bioware telling us “Okay, now you know the plot, you know all the major players, you know a lot about our world (galaxy) and how it works and who lives here, now, it’s time for you to go out on your own.”

First, it starts with being able to vent a little to Joker, which is a nice touch.  Shepard might feel guilty about taking the ship over from Anderson, but Joker also assures us here, a great preview of the way he’s tasked with helping Shepard keep it together in ME3.

I love seeing Shepard’s words affect the crew.  The swelling music, the same as the “you’re a Spectre now!!” music just underscores the journey, and what’s to come.

I used to always miss this scene by not picking the right speech option, and would be mad Kaidan was left out of this montage.  My fault!

This moment is so beautiful and epic.

...and here we go.

ALOT, btw, makes the galaxy map so pretty.  Sharper and clearer and more colorful.  

We all usually just head to Liara’s Dig Site first, right?  Unless you’re doing one of those “Pick up Liara last just to see what happens” playthroughs?  I did that once. It felt weird.  And sad, when you tell her “oops I killed your mom and I’m not sorry.”  Seems like she shouldn’t have gotten over that so quickly, but well, that’s game design.  The entire plot just doesn’t feel the same and more flimsy without Liara around from the start.

I usually do Therum --> Feros --> Noveria --> Virmire.

Well okay, first a stop at Edolus, since, you know, it’s on the way.

What a LOVELY day, nothing could possibly go wrong on this barren world. I feel like they gave us a pretty easy-to-get-around-on world to start out with.

I honestly love driving around in the mako 90% of the time?  Once you’re used to the controls, it’s not that hard to get most places you want to go.  Though I admit the Nomad in Andromeda is a big upgrade.  I kinda miss it in ME2 and ME3, though I only do what driving is necessary in Overlord and skip Firewalker like, half the time.

First, let’s check out the map...

I’m pretty sure I didn’t realize you could mark your destination on the map and it’d put a handy arrow on your radar until I started playing on PC.  Before then I was checking the map every 5 seconds making SURE I was going the right way.  *facepalm*  

Generally my scanning strategy on the planet is... just go to the things on the map, but do go to ALL the things on the map.  If I see something along the way, stop and get it.  I don’t go way out of my way to look for unmarked stuff.  Usually the UNC missions can be completed doing that + complete planet / asteroid scanning.

Oh hey here’s a guy, let’s just grab what we can off him...

UGH.  MINIGAMES.

Like I get that the minigame is a stand in for “looking for clues, are you successful in finding anything useful?” or whatever but it’s still just the worst.  A minigame is fun occasionally, making it as a gate to something like looting a body is stupid.  I guess I have to forgo actually putting points into things that keep Kaidan alive at the early levels so he can help me... loot bodies.  Cool.  Great.

Since I’m cheating in credits, all weapons and armor get medigelled almost immediately so that I don’t have to do the minigame later on when they get harder, like, ever.

The ME2 minigames at least make a little more sense than this moving puzzler thing.  That’s at least an attempt to look like some kind of code hacking or rewiring/reprogramming.  This thing is just... silly.

ME2 has a disable minigames mod... so there will be no talk of minigames from here on out.  They don’t exist after the easy minigames early on in ME1.

So I ... somehow managed to not get video or screenshots of you know the ICONIC THRESHER MAW attack on Edolus?  So please enjoy this gif I made of it back in 2013 instead.

It’s such a great fakeout and moment.  Like “Oh man how easy my goal is like right in front of me!  That’s great, so easy!” then OH HELL NO, FUCK YOU, GIANT WORM!!

These gifs are from another planet later on, but they’ll do.

My normal MO with Maws is to get out of the way, far enough that they can’t appear too close to or especially under me, but close enough that they do still show up, then stay stationary and jump over the goo while shooting at it.

YOU’RE FACING THE OTHER WAY HOW DID YOU SPIT AT ME?!

This is fine.  EVERYTHING IS FINE. We’re just A LITTLE ON FIRE.  Our shields are at full...

Oh hell, Kaidan slap some medigel on it, please.

Even though we don’t know who Cerberus is yet, FUCK YOU CERBERUS. I always bring the VS to any Cerberus mission because THEY WERE RIGHT NOT TO JOIN YOU IN CERBERUS.  Let’s keep a FUCK YOU CERBERUS count going to remember all the horrible shit we SAW Cerberus do in ME1 to remind ourselves why Ashley or Kaidan is the only SANE ONE for going “No, sorry, I’m not joining you in Cerberus.”

Deep breath

OK, let’s go get Liara.

Wrex comes with us to Therum.

Dear Lord, Therum is gorgeous.

This is real nice just a pleasant day on this thresher maw-less planet and great scenery, we’ll find that asari scientist in no ti--- WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?

Have I mentioned how everything is fine lately?

Well it’s time for how I deal with most of the geth while in the Mako...

Armatures are worth five points each!

Rocket troopers are only two points, but I got a lot of them!

Stopping and fighting in the Mako takes way too long.  Push on through all the way til we’re stopped.

Hm, this is the one I should push, right?

*crickets*

Fine.

Just... real pretty.

I love this part of Therum right here.  A really great, scary fight that feels so dangerous, but winnable.  Great level design, too.

Then this happens.

Does everyone’s hair do that in this cutscene, or just mine, or this hairstyle?

Also, ME3 has a mod now that lets chracters use their correct weapons in cutscenes, my eternal devotion to the modder who could do that in ME1.  None of these characters use assault rifles in-game!!

I’m fairly certain I have played and replayed this fight more than any other in ME1.  AKA RUN FOR COVER OH SHIT AVOID THE BOMBS AND LASERS FLYING AT YOU AT ONCE PLEASE DON’T DIE COMPANIONS PLEASE KILL SOMETHING I CAN’T DO THIS ON MY OWN AHHHHH!!! 

This time around, I died my first time, actually did really well the second time, and decided to go back and record the fight for gifs and... won, barely.  The gifs would not be good.  Wrex and Kaidan didn’t last long. 

Anyway, It’s a great cutscene, but hoo boy I wish it were skippable.

Okay but what were these ruins *for*.  Also, real lucky that they had the boss fight way up here instead of down where Liara was.

Speaking of Liara...

Hello Doctor T’soni!

I have a lot of questions like... how long have you been in that bubble?  How are you sustaining it that long?  How long has it been since you’ve eaten?  If I didn’t come get you until after Virmire, would you have been holding that bubble up for the weeks in between then and now?  

Ah well, you’re here now, and I suppose I’m going to owe you my life later so... welcome to the team.

You gotta admit that’s one badass entrance, though uh, if the forcefield is still up, where did he come from?  Doesn’t matter.  Wrex, let’s kill us one of your brethren (sorry.)

I’ll just *assume* that Liara is too tired from holding up her stasis bubble she was in to actually be USEFUL.

I love the chaos of running the fuck out of there.

Texture popping is still an issue even with a decent computer and texture packs, but at least it’s quick now.

Also I really feel the loss of this conference room in the future games.  The awkward oval table never quite feels the same.  But also, uh, this is a lot of room taken up in this small ship for eight chairs and a holoprojector.  You gotta think there’s more uses for this space than just that.

But yeah, I love these check-ins, it’s a chance for everyone to get together and really hash out what’s going on, as well as reinforcing the plot to the players in a more natural way.  Having Liara this early will let us understand the Protheans better at an earlier stage, even if it turns out she’s wrong about some stuff (though at the time this was written, she was right for all everyone knew.)

Wrex and Garrus don’t talk much here, probably because you can make it through the game without one of them.  I did a “didn’t recruit Garrus” playthrough in ME2 once.  They change like one or two lines then Garrus goes back to talking about Old Times.  So like you CAN, but you really shouldn’t not recruit Garrus, because Bioware didn’t do a great job changing anything aside from your initial greeting during the Omega Archangel mission.

Not recruiting Wrex, though.  Wow that’ll have consequences later on.

OK!  So the gang’s all here, and this post is already very long.  Next time: Let’s go talk to everyone for awhile, and do a few more sidequests because we can’t go back to the Citadel til our persuasion is high enough to grind Mikhailovich’s arguments into the dust!

#mass effect #liara t'soni #urdnot wrex #kaidan alenko #ashley williams #garrus vakarian #annakie's mass effect stuff