#I think the idea that he's lying his ass of to the Inquisition and is actually protecting Anders is funny

[tuxedo-rabbit]

Maybe I'm giving the writer's too much credit, but I think the reason Varric can't forgive Anders, even after a six year friendship, but is willing to forgive Solas, is literally just because Anders actions affected Varric on a personal level, and Solas's haven't yet. At least not in such a direct, visceral way.

I think Varric is a big hypocrite who really only cares about things if they affect him personally.

He chooses whether he supports the mages or templars based on his best friend's feelings.

His approval on the Grey Wardens being banished vs conscripted relies on whether or not Hawke died to save them.

He only cares about the red lyrium and Corypheus so deeply because he helped release them.

etc.

Anders actions, however justified, forever changed Varric's comfortable life with his friends in the city he calls home. Varric had to watch the home he'd lived in his whole life fall to pieces around him, and his closest friends potentially turn on each other. And this time, it wasn't because of some outside force, but because one of his closest friends decided to try and rock the boat. I don't think Varric is a "rock the boat" type of guy. I think the way his approval works in both DA2 and DAI shows he's a big ol' centrist. Personally, for the type of character Varric is, I can definitely see how Anders could become a villain to him because of this.

Solas, on the other hand, is from a time when Varric's life had already been turned upside down. Shit just got a little weirder because of him. Solas wasn't the catalyst for Varric's friend group splitting up and his home being destroyed. He is claiming that he's going to destroy the world, but he hasn't actually done anything that affects Varric personally yet.

But that's just my interpretation. I don't blame people for thinking it's another example of the writers' using a character as a mouthpiece for their own opinions.

(I also haven't read the new issue of The Missing, I've only seen this one scene being referenced out of context. If Solas has blown up Kirkwall at this point or murdered Varric's friends that would, of course, debunk this)

[iwritefandomimagines]

TREEHOUSE — JESS MARIANO

masterlist

pairing: jess mariano x reader

description: you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy jess’ flirty teasing. he’d be lying if he said that you didn’t make him uncharacteristically mushy.

warnings: swearing n fluff!!!, that’s all folks

author’s note: ok so i caved and started rewatching GG already — i had this idea and had to run with it! let me know what u think x

“Wow Y/N, we have got to stop bumping into each other like this!”

You looked up, rolling your eyes at the smirking boy before you as you placed down your book, “Oh yes,” you quipped sarcastically, “Such a shock to see you at your uncle’s diner that you live above and work at. Bonus points for you literally choosing to come over to my table, by the way. Usually you save our tantalising small talk for when I come to the counter for a drink.”

This only emboldened his smirk, and he glanced back to see Luke quirking his brow at his usual game — he always distracted himself from helping out by busying himself with talking to you.

In seconds he’d sat himself down in the empty chair opposite you, leaning on your closed book and staring so intently into your eyes you felt your heartbeat quicken immensely.

“What do you want, Mariano?”

“Ouch, last name?” he pouted, “And here I thought we were friends.”

Your heart was racing at how close to you he seemed to be, but his assertion of your supposed ‘friendship’ dulled this a little.

It infuriated you that he spent so much time flirting, and then every other moment acting like his having any romantic interest in you was a ridiculous suggestion.

“Friends, hm?”

In all the time he’d been loitering around, lending you books, stealing your books, making you coffee and all-round just finding any reason to be near you, Jess had never been certain his attraction to you was reciprocated either.

You’d started out shy, unsure of why the hell he seemed so struck with talking to you when he appeared so disdainful of everyone else in Stars Hollow.

And then you’d warmed to him, you’d opened up, you’d spent evenings as the only two people in Luke’s — just talking for hours on end — only to the next day seem distant again.

He’d tried to reassure himself that you did like him too, and that you were just shy, but something always stopped him from passing the boundaries of friendship beyond flirtatious remarks.

“Am I being relegated to an acquaintance?” he placed a hand over his heart and screwed up his face like he was going to cry, before relaxing it and smirking once more, “Or is your inquisitive tone your way of hinting at your undying love for me?”

“Shut up,” you shoved his arm gently, watching him feign a gasp, “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that right?”

Jess scooted his chair even closer to the table, “I totally thought that was your favourite quality of mine. My mistake!”

You didn’t reply for a moment, challenging him with eye contact and feeling your chest tighten at the way he seemed to match the intensity.

“What’re you doing tonight?”

This was new — he normally just hinted at caring what you were up to, nudged for you to give away whether you were seeing anyone, and danced around flirting just enough that he could deny it if you called him out on it.

You gestured to the book he’d made himself comfortable on, “A riveting night of draining your establishment of coffee ‘til you close, finishing this book and then probably either starting another or binging some shitty tv.”

It was only now that he looked at the book he was leaning on, clocking that it was Ham on Rye and he was the one who’d lent it to you when you’d expressed a desire to read more Bukowski.

“How’re you finding it?”

“Oh, and apparently starting the Jess and Y/N book club,” you teased, “Yeah, I’m enjoying. Thank you again for letting me borrow it.”

He smiled, “Anytime. Want me to leave you alone ‘til you’re done with it?”

You pondered his question for a moment. You didn’t want him to go anywhere, but weren’t quite sure if you should suppress your eagerness for his company.

“No, no,” you bit your lip, “Its alright. Does—,” you almost asked if Luke needed him, in the hopes that he’d say no and you could ask him if he wanted to get out of there. Almost.

“Does… what?”

“Nothing, never mind,” you shook your head, blushing crimson at how closely he watched your every move, “Its quiet in here tonight.”

He shrugged, “I was hoping you’d ask if I wanted to get out of here, because Luke definitely doesn’t need me when it’s this dead.”

You smirked, “Is this you asking me to get out of here?”

“Maybe.”

“Cool.”

“Cool?”

“Yes, Jess, cool. Let’s go somewhere else,” you grinned, pulling your book from beneath his elbow slowly and watching him roll his eyes at your teasing smile as you did so, “I was going to ask that. Didn’t want to seem too eager and boost your ego.”

He feigned insult again, “Ego? What ego?!”

He rose to his feet as you packed your book into your bag, gesturing that he was going to go and tell Luke he was leaving and quickly sauntering over to the counter, where you just about overheard Luke mumble, “Finally asked then?”

That made your stomach swarm with butterflies — this was really happening.

All this time, and things were finally progressing.

Jess briefly disappeared behind the counter, before re-emerging with his jacket and opening the door to the diner for you to lead the way out.

“Where’d ya wanna go?” you asked, your voice quiet as you suddenly felt anxious about being so close to him.

Your feelings for Jess had been growing steadily for so long now, bubbling under the surface, and now you finally had an inkling he actually liked you too you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

He shrugged again, looking down at his feet with his hands stuffed in his pockets as he ambled through Stars Hollow at your side.

“We can just walk,” you hummed, “Or we can go to mine. I’ve, uh, got a treehouse out back that my dad built when I was a kid. Or not if that’s a really fucking lame suggestion.”

He kicked a stone at his feet, “No, that sounds good. Totally lame. But good.”

That pleased you enough to elicit a small hum from your lips, and you found yourself walking a little closer to him as you led the way to your house, “Good. Follow me then.”

When you arrived at your house it was empty as ever — the reason you spent so much time at Luke’s was the rarity of company at your own home given your parents’ busy work lives.

You grabbed a few drinks from the fridge, some snacks from the cupboard, and then led the way out back to the treehouse, which was lit with fairy lights and adorned inside with band posters and shelves of books.

“I’ll give it to you, Y/N, it’s less lame than expected,” Jess nudged your side as you crawled in and slumped down on the mattress in the corner of the room, scoffing at him, “I feel honoured to have the Jess Mariano’s approval.”

“Should I feel privileged to be up here?” he licked his lips, eyes glancing over at the torn “NO BOYS ALLOWED” sign discarded at the edge of the tree house too, “Or does the sad state of the sign suggest I’m one of many exceptions?”

You rolled your eyes, “If you’re jealous that other boys may have been up here, you can just say that, Jess. But you should feel privileged because you’re the first. In fact, I can’t believe I didn’t even think twice about bringing you up here.”

He seemed to like that, his eyes glimmering as they darted between your lips and your eyes repeatedly while he found the words to respond.

“I’d say that means you like me, Y/N,” his voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke, and your close proximity left you shuddering as his breath fanned over your face, “Can’t say I blame you.”

His shit-eating grin made you roll your eyes for the millionth time tonight, “Here I was about to say maybe you were right. Thanks for snapping me out of it, shithead. I don’t like you nearly as much as you like yourself, huh.”

He just stared at you for a moment, eyes still twinkling and his breathing jagged.

“Funny, except I don’t think that’s true,” his head dipped to kiss you now, capturing your lips at first tentatively and then with increasing pressure as you kissed back.

He pulled back for a second, half smirking and half dazed, “Yep, I’d say you definitely like me.”

“Says the one who initiated the kiss,” you challenged, “And has been flirting with me incessantly since, like, the moment we met.”

He raised his eyebrow, “Oh is that so?”

“Are you denying it?”

“Oh no, I’ve definitely been flirting,” he licked his lips once more, desperate to kiss you again but trying to refrain for now, “It’s just funny that you’re only calling me out on it now.”

You gently shoved him and poked out your tongue, “I can kick you out of my treehouse whenever I want, you know.”

He only leaned closer again, “But you’re not gonna, are you?”

Jesus Christ you’d not been prepared for the palpitations in your chest right now. Your heart thrummed against your rib cage, drunk on the feelings that had only gotten stronger tonight.

“It’s your lucky day.”

You kissed him again, and the arm he wasn’t propped up on scooped around your waist to pull you closer and deepen the kiss, “Yeah, I guess it is.”

You stayed like this for god knows how long, joking around in between kisses and getting more and more comfortable in each other’s company, until he sat up abruptly and furrowed his brows.

“What’s wrong? Filled your kiss quota for the night and ready to leave or something?” you smiled, tongue in cheek, and he chuckled.

“Oh no, never. Just figured as much as I’d like to just kiss you, we should probably talk,” it was unlike Jess to look as nervous as he did right now.

In the time that had passed this evening, you’d grown comfortable enough to help him out a little here.

“I really like you, Jess.”

He wasn’t expecting that — you could tell from his wide eyes and open mouth, which he swiftly shut when he realised he was slack-jawed and silent.

He reached out to take your hand in his, fingers twiddling with yours, “You do? That’s, uh, good. ‘Cause I really like you too, Y/N.”

You couldn’t help the little joyous giggle that escaped your lips, and he couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him at the sound of it, “D’you want to stay over tonight? We can sleep in here?”

He kissed your nose, relaxing back into his reclined position again, “If you’re sure… I’d like that.”

“‘Mm, c’mon then,“ you cuddled in a little closer to him, suddenly overcome with tiredness from the evenings events, “…’m sleepy.”

He smiled, a broader smile than he was sure he’d ever smiled before, happy you were finally this close to him. He dipped his head to kiss your forehead, interlocking your hands as you got comfortable on his chest.

“G’night beautiful,” he whispered, and you could hear his heart thrumming in his chest. You couldn’t believe you’d found this side of Jess Mariano. And you weren’t going to get over that joy any time soon.

“Night Jess,” you hummed, already half asleep, “You better be here when I wake up.”

“Oh I will, Y/N, I’m not going anywhere.”

———

ahhHhHhh i hope you enjoyed this !!! please feel free to make some requests if you’d like, or just let me know what you think! i’ve been in such a writer’s block funk lately — but hopefully i’m back now!

here is my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my works!

[mikhailwrites]

Waiting for Connection 15 / Ghost x Soap

Ghost is retired and plays milsim videogame. Soap is still in the force and sometimes plays that same videogame...

AN: It's a short chapter, but... just think of the exciting things to come from this!

Previous chapter | AO3

Ghost was right, of course. When they do the rematch, he gets his ass handed to him. First, Alejandro and Rudy flush him out of his hiding spot with outstanding teamwork. They don’t discover him, but it’s a close call. While relocating, Ghost runs into Roach, who’s been waiting and ready, and there’s nothing close about that encounter. It’s a quick and clean vendetta.

All the while, Soap takes out some AI enemies and gets to the holding cells. By the time Roach is putting a bullet into Ghost, John is well on his way to the RV. It wasn’t entirely fair since it’s been basically four-to-one, but Ghost did his best to make it harder. The truth is, he’s not sure he would be able to win this round even with Gaz, so it’s a well-deserved victory.

Just like the last time, they reunite after the match, and predictably, the mood is much lighter. There’s not much for Ghost to comment on as to future improvements; they really did well this time. Apparently the most challenging part was to get the AI-controlled VIPs to RV since they sometimes got stuck or the follow command stopped working.

“I swear I almost wanted to shoot them myself,” Soap says as he tells them of his little jungle adventure.

“Then the mission would fail. In any case, it couldn’t have been worse than escorting civilians for real,” Ghost replies, earning a hum of agreement from Alejandro. It seems he’s had his fair share of experience. Not that it surprises Ghost. He might not know what Alejandro did prior to joining the task force, but that doesn’t mean Ghost doesn’t have at least some idea. The man is clearly skilled, well-trained and experienced, and that, paired with the accent and some off-handed mentions here and there, paints an interesting picture. Special forces, most likely, and from that part of the world? That says a lot. Ghost had some joint operations in South and Central America. In Mexico, too, of course, but he would rather not go down that particular memory lane. In any case, he always respected his counterparts.

They talk about the mission a little longer before Rudy changes the topic. “I was thinking… It’s my birthday next month, and we wanted to hit the pub and have a few drinks. Wanna join us, Ghost?”

Simon sits back in his chair, thinking hard. He appreciates the offer. It’s just that it sounds like a lot of people at once.

“Come on, Ghost, last time I went to visit you, it’s time you returned the favour!” Soap joins in with a very low-blow argument. Technically speaking, it was John’s idea to visit him in the first place, but Simon happily agreed.

“I… I’ll think about it,” Ghost relents eventually because he has to give them some answer. It’s noncommittal; he can always refuse later.

“Great, we’ll hold a spot for you in any case. Just let me know if you want me to arrange a room on the base for you, it shouldn’t be a problem, but I’ll need a little heads-up,” Soap's voice betrays a smile. He wants Ghost to come, and Simon would be lying if he said he didn’t want to see him again.

They say their goodbyes and good nights, Simon takes off the headset and sighs. Sergeant appears out of nowhere, jumping onto his lap with an inquisitive meow. Simon scratches the cat on the neck, letting it sit. “What do you think, should I go?”

Stripey starts to purr, closing the big green eyes as his human continues with scratching.

“Some help you are,” Simon inclines his head but smiles softly at the creature. He should really start thinking about what he’s hoping to achieve with all of this.

[tokusaatsus]

SLEEPOVERS

ft. himemiya tori

© tokusaatsus 2022

warnings: none

It’s nearing the end of the day, and fine practice is just finishing up. Everyone is sweaty and slightly exhausted, except you–who has been sitting in a corner the whole 3 hours, scrolling through your phone and calling out the occasional piece of encouragement.

“Great job, everyone,” You chirp, sitting up with a back-cracking stretch. “Gosh, I’m exhausted.”

“You didn’t even do anything!?” Tori cries, lying spread-eagled on the floor.

“Untrue,” You stick your tongue out at him. “I’ve been working on PR. ES is so lucky to have me, do you know how many rumours I’ve had to disprove?”

“Yes, yes,” Eichi steps in. “You’re both very important members of fine. Tori-kun, speaking of, isn’t it your birthday soon?”

“Yes, tomorrow,” Yuzuru answers in lieu of the shorter boy.

“Oh, really?” You grin. “Y’know, we should all have a sleepover or something. So we can be the first people to wish Hime-bocchama~”

Eichi appears deep in thought. “Well, as much as I love the idea, I do have some meetings…”

You and Tori exchange a single glance and, well, you know what they say. Great minds think alike, and all that. As if you had planned it in advance, you both give Eichi your patented puppy dog eyes in perfect unison, a full frontal attack from two different enemies. Tori even goes the extra mile and widens his eyes enough that tears start pooling. You’re impressed.

“Please, oh, please, Eichi-sama…?”

“Come on, senpai, pretty please…?”

Eichi hesitates, and you can see his resolve weakening. “I suppose…”

The last straw is when Wataru slings his arms around both of your shoulders, much to Tori’s visible disgust. His eyes are sparkling with mirth. “Oh, how amazing ☆ A time that we may all spend together, to celebrate the birth of our dear himegimi…” Eichi heaves a theatrical sigh, but there’s a glint in his eyes.

And that’s how you tell you’ve won.

A fancy-ass car comes to pick you up from the dorms and take you to the Himemiya house, and you feel terribly underdressed inside a car that’s basically a mini version limousine. It only gets worse when you actually walk inside. The servants all smile at you when you pass by, used to seeing you around when you come to talk to Tori–or more commonly, Yuzuru–about scheduling. Some even wave at you when you pass.

“Ah, Y/N, you’re here!” Eichi smiles when he notices you hovering in the doorway. Wataru hangs upside down from the rafters. You smile. “Maybe you can tell us–what do you typically do at these sleepovers?”

You’re kidding. You gape unattractively when you’re faced with three (four, if you count Tori, who’s trying his absolute best not to look at you) inquisitive gazes. It’s then you realise that you’re surrounded by a bunch of weirdos who’ve never had normal childhood experiences. So it all falls on you to teach them.

“Well…” You hesitate. “We’d normally do something like…”

After a wild few hours of gossip (Yuzuru, despite what most may think, was a master of trash-talk), makeovers (this was a minefield of insults from Tori about your ‘horrible skincare routine’ and ‘mediocre products’, like, you can’t all be rich as fuck), snacking-and-movie-watching (Disney marathon of all the classics–you aren’t a heathen), as well as one narrowly avoided crisis–Eichi suggested a game he’d heard from Hiyori. You don’t know what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t SMASH OR PASS. Only by diverting his attention back to Ratatouille were you able to breathe a sigh of relief–the five of you ended up snuggled under your various covers. 

“So,” You say to the room at large. “How was your first ever sleepover?”

There’s a moment of silence, before Tori speaks. “You know, for a commoner… You’re not so bad at these things.”

You grin to yourself. “Thanks, bocchama.”

Then it’s like the floodgates open, as Eichi lets slip his own comments, followed by Wataru’s exclamations and Yuzuru’s quiet thoughts. You giggle softly. “I’m glad,” You say, and you mean it. “Happy birthday, Tori.”

notes!

WC: 677 words

reze txt happy birthday tori! we love you, our cutie tori-sama! may you continue to work hard and stay fabulous this new year <3

[kiastirling-fanfic]

Happy Friday!! "do we really have to end it all?" for Hamin?

Hi Ro!

So this worked unreasonably well for a scene I was already planning for Hamin so uh

(only context needed for this scene should be that Hamin has a ghost? Don't worry about it.)

@dadrunkwriting

She felt cornered on the battlements of Redcliffe castle. Everyone else had gone to bed as soon as the King and Queen had departed, and it seemed a decent place to hide away, but of course not everyone decided to rest.  Lavellan and Solas had cut off her exits, almost intentionally it seemed. But Solas was reclining in shadow near the stairs, Lavellan couldn’t even see him, and Solas’ eyes were boring into hers.

They knew she was a mage, sure, but now it seemed like they knew. About everything. Only Solas hadn’t even gone into that light with Lavellan, just the Altus had, so why was he looking at Hamib with that same knowing look?

“I was hoping to find you,” Lavellan said. “You… you had a message for yourself. Or whatever was in you did. You were possessed, I think, or maybe it was just the red lyrium. But it was unnerving, and you made me promise I’d pass the message on.”

“That stuff sounds nasty,” Hamin brushed him off as best she could, leaned back on the battlements casual as anything. Don’t respond to the accusation of possession. She wasn’t possessed, she was just… in a unique position. “What did this other me say?”

“You said it was time to stop hiding. I assume that means telling the Inquisition you’re a mage.”

Hamin’s smile was brittle, but she hadn’t survived with her ruse intact for this long for lack of skill in lying. “Then I suppose I must. You offered the rebel mages an alliance, so I guess that means you weren’t paying lip service to the idea of not resurrecting the circles.”

Lavellan punched her shoulder, ignoring how she flinched at the contact. He was good about that, trying to ease her back into touch ever since he learned, but that didn’t mean she didn’t still react.

“Ass. You know I wouldn’t. What kind of First would I be if I capitulated to the Chantry?” his grin was more genuine than hers. “I’m going to go find a bed and sleep ‘til noon. Feels like I haven’t slept in days. You should head in soon too, emma falon.”

“We’ll see.” She didn’t react to his pledge of friendship, didn’t return it, but his grin grew anyway as he ducked back inside, the wooden door closing behind him with that horrible scrape of wood on stone.

Alone again, she sagged against the battlements and turned her gaze to the stars, addressing the only being that was always with her. “Do we really have to end it all?” Hamin fiddled with the chain around her neck, voice barely a whisper. Could she? How could she?

She’d lived in hiding for so long. Hiding her Dalishness in the Circle, hiding her trauma on those few times she managed to meet with her clan, hiding her magic from the world, and now this- this stupid message from the future that Lavellan supposedly went to, that was how everything was going to come crumbling down?

“It’s time, da’len,” the ghost’s voice was a bit more solid than usual as it whispered in her ear. “We knew this was coming.”

“Don’t da’len me, you ass,” Hamin grumbled. “I didn’t want it to be like this.” She didn’t want it at all. She was surviving how she was.

But it was inevitable. Multiple people had clocked her as a mage since the Inquisition took over Haven, it wasn’t a secret she could keep much longer without winding up in a cell below the Chantry.

“Look left.”

Hamin did as her ghost bid and froze. Solas, standing half in shadow, the moonlight washing his face bone white. Most of the time his gaze was annoying at worst, but it reminded her now of hunting. Always hunt in pairs when going for dangerous game, but she wasn’t the one hunting.

She’d forgotten he was there once Lavellan started speaking. And she was so used to him now that she hadn’t even noticed him after. A foolish mistake.

“Solas. Nice night for an evening.” Shamelessly stolen from one of the trashy romance novels Viola kept in the hunter’s cabin, it was always a good ice breaker. “What brings you to my corner of the battlements?”

“Mere curiosity,” Solas said, taking slow measured steps toward her from the top of the stairs. “I spoke with the Herald earlier and sought you out on his advice. I did not realize he would do the same.”

“I guess I’m just popular tonight. What did you want, hahren?” An old game, one they’d stopped playing, but it annoyed him to have her call him that. Ex-Dalish she may be, but his distaste for their customs lingered.

“Only to second the advice you’ve already been given. You cannot hide your magic from the Inquisition much longer, and the longer you do so the more suspect you seem. Even the spymaster has limited patience for your antics. Her knowledge of your status does little to protect you, and the Herald’s less.”

The worst part was the he was right. If Hamin didn’t reveal it on her own terms, inevitably it would come out in another way. Whether it was Sister Nightingale forcing the matter and sending her on a mission officially as a mage or some slip of her own, it was inevitable that she would be revealed to the rest of the organization so long as she stayed in the Inquisition.

“Fine. You win.” Hamin sighed, her fingers finding the thin chain again. It would work for a pledge at least.

It was the work of a single tug to free the chain from her neck, and her phylactery with it. She felt naked without it, but that was her own fault carrying it for so long instead of destroying it like any sane person would be.

Solas caught the thrown phial with a deft movement and eyed it curiously once it was in his grasp.

“What is this?” he asked, holding it under the starlight. It looked like a sand glass, but it was opaque and white. Small. It was amazing how much blood they’d fit in it back then.

“My phylactery. I’ll come clean to the Inquisition once I’m back from this next mission. Until then, there’s your promise I won’t run. Use it yourself, give it to Lavellan, hell give it to Rutherford for all I care. If I don’t come back and make good then you can find me and kick the shit out of me.”

“I would not-”

“I’m exaggerating, hahren. Surely you’re familiar?”

“I am. And I do not believe that I am the best person to entrust this to. You must know by now that I would never force someone to surrender themselves to the tender mercies of the Chantry.”

“Which is exactly why you’re who I should entrust it to.” Hamin pressed her forehead into her palm. “Look, I’m headed to the Fallow Mire tomorrow. We won’t be back in time for Lavellan’s light show, but I’ll do everything after. Until then, keep that thing safe for me.”

Solas’ eyes scoured her face, searching for any sign that she was bluffing, but Hamin wasn’t. Not this time.

“In that case, I shall keep it safe. I hope you enjoy your bog.” Then he was back down the stairs from whence he came, and it was just Hamin and her ghost under the stars once more. Her ghost who had been oddly silent.

“So, was what you wanted?”

“Of course not, I do not trust-” Wind took the rest of the ghost’s words, but that was to be expected. The ghost could rarely articulate her opinions of the Inquisition’s resident apostate, but it was often negative.

“Too late now.” Much too late.

[sanghyukstattoos]

SF9's reaction: cockwarming

Genre: fluff-fluff-fluff; smut-smut-smut

Characters: SF9!

A/N: None of the images in the collage are mine, refer to here for more; For more SF9, read here, for iKON, read here and for optional bias writings, read here!

Youngbin:

Plays in pairs

When you first present the idea to him, given that the circumstances are of a light atmosphere, you'll fluster him, impeccably. His cheeks will turn pink and he'll maybe giggle a little and cover his mouth out of shyness but he won't be averted to the idea. He loves it but you just caught him off guard ahaha. When it's under a serious circumstance, like you are describing what you would like to try out, he would seriously contemplate your idea. He won't seal the deal if he doesn't like it the first time around. He'll try for a second to give it a chance. During your first time trying this out, it'll be spontaneous. Like you are watching a movie or a documentary and you or him decide that you want to give it a try. He'll firmly hold your waist as you settle onto him. If you are horny, you wait for a few minutes before you think, 'Enough of this' and rock him out of this world. What could he say? If you aren't, it'll be peaceful. But there's a dilemma. If you are sitting on the sofa, you can't see the screen. But you want to watch (sad). He'll say, ''It's okay'' and switch off the tv and it will resume in the bedroom. Just a beautiful atmosphere where you have deep conversations. He'll listen to your insight and internally marvel at how your perspective and compliment them with some of his own. It's like turn-taking, an essential part of a relationship where you go back and forth, speaking about one topic to the end of it where you have nothing to say anymore and then you'll move onto the next. It'll go on for ages, till the two of you are hungry. When the two of you go the kitchen to make something, he'll do what he couldn't do when the two of you were cock warming. The same thing may happen when the two of you are about to fall asleep, the lack of lights appeal to his other side, love-making.

Inseong:

This one is a funny bunny

It's a routine for you to cock warm after sex just like when he's on the laptop, surfing the net at the dinner table and you are sat on his cock, back to his chest, keeping him warm. After sex, it's a gateway to another round, on the bed or in the shower or to sleep in that position but not cock warm. He would love cock warming in the morning if it's cold then, probably in your balcony or in the kitchen, hugging you from behind and trailing his hands to your tummy and chest every now and then. He would love when you capture when you capture his lips in a sweet embrace, beginning a long make-out session when he's in you. If he's horny, you can bet that he's going to tell you about it. ''Babe'', he places a delicate kiss on your neck, ''tell me'' you moan out. His hands have already found your tummy and trailed downward, rubbing your clit but not to just merely stimulate you, to see if you are wet as he imagines you to be. He loves you. He's going to make love to you, to see those expressions on your face and feel you around him, holding you in his arms till the two of you have exhausted yourselves out which could one round or more than one. I can imagine you and him in the kitchen, he's got you pressed against the counter and that's how the cock warming while horny scene may play out. Another one is when abroad, maybe in a hotel or airbnb, he'll have you in his arms but that's not how it starts. He'll be playful about it, surprising you with a hug from behind, kissing the spot near to your ear, whispering some *interesting* innuendo into your ear, it makes you laugh anyway. A couple of seconds later, he's turning you around, kissing your tummy and inner thighs all the way till he's on his knees, he'll make sure to nuzzle his nose against your panties and lick a stripe at the material, slowly pulling them down. Arousal buzzes through you because he's telling you, ''fuck, baby you taste so good, stay still for me'' or something like that, it's a little muffled because he is preoccupied in drawing you to pleasure and pleasure and then release. He'll eat you out multiple times or till your knees buckle, depending on whether you had sex previously and then just maybe, in a moment driven by passion, he'll carry you to the sofa and that's where you'll cock warm, giggling to one another of what just happened, what you want to do afterwards. Wrap your legs around his waist, press him against the sofa and lift your hips again, he'll start the process again, all while laughing. It's just light-hearted.

Jaeyoon:

Absolute sweetheart/ dream husband

In this scenario, let's say that he is your husband. When you suggest cock warming, he's a little uncertain (by his little frown) but also inquisitive (by his questions), *Frowning* ''What is it about?'' would be the situation, he would look very cute when he asks. Presumably the two of you would be cuddling and you happened to stumble onto this conversation, he would not be shy, just like, 'You have an idea, let's hear it then!', also like an explorer, he's willing to try new things even if it means pushing his boundaries a little bit. But, this does not fall into that category of pushing boundaries. Maybe pushing his patience if he's horny. The latter scenario is guaranteed to occur at multiple points of time. You'll be lying on your side with his cock in your ass, it's a little jerk that alerts you or his hands that begin to wander everywhere like kissing your neck, then your lips and his hands have already begin to stimulate your clitoris. You moan into the kiss and then he knows and he smiles into the kiss while rocking his hips against yours. Everything is forgotten in the background. Unless it's life-threatening. Like food can burn or you could watch three episodes on netflix that you aren't truly watching, he's not stopping till the both of you are tired to the bone and have released multiple times. Quite the sweetheart though, he'll get up and shake himself if he's about to fall asleep the next minute and he'll grab a cloth for you like you protest but he says as he's already getting up, ''no, stay there, I've got it!''. You smile and slump and he cleans you, tosses it away and then climbs on top of you, pulling you into his arms. If he can, he'll try the idea of cock warming and spoon you throughout the night but if he can not, he'll definitely do it the next day. He's committed to the plans he makes or what's going on at that moment. Let's say you have an argument, you are trying to smooth things out, ruffle out misunderstandings and you won't talk it out with sex but communicate to him about it. The night will end in cock warming, to bring you closer and then it's all jokes from there, especially about the argument, it's either you teasing him or the other way around and that's how you fall asleep: content.

Dawon I Lee Sanghyuk:

He has his days.

On a day when he's tired, to the bone maybe, he's come back from work and you want to cuddle, using the idea of cock warming to propose the intimacy you want to feel during the night that you couldn't during the day, I'm sure that he'll do it for you. If he does not fall asleep immediately, he'll caress your backside, admiring the way the flesh conforms to his grasp. He loves all of you. He will pepper kisses along your neck, down your collarbone and to your breasts, sucking your erect buds but he won't touch your centre. He likes to go slow, never stopping these moments with you or he'll take you in the morning. At times like these, he loves when you touch him, just your touch on his skin, turning heated. When you are making out, it would be your tug on his hair, like urgency for more or roaming your hands all over him or tracing his hair from his navel to the band of his underwear would be his favourite save for the best of all, when you direct how everything goes. If he does fall asleep immediately, it'll be after he kisses you. During this time, regardless of whether you were cock warming or not, he would love for you to tangle your fingers in his hair, it lulls him to sleep and even to sleep in your chest, being the small spoon, he would absolutely love it. He has trouble sleeping alone but when he's with you, it's not the case. When he stretches you out after days of not having sex, he tries to hold himself back from releasing, the wait and foreplay was enough to spiral his mind, gasping in your ear. But if you are too tired, he'll take it into consideration, seriously and hold back from lifting his hips off yours and filling you up. When he cock warms just to end the day comfortably, it will turn it into sex if the two of you contain some semblance of energy and are away from that playful and teasing mood, with hours on end before you sleep. It will be just the feeling of his cock filling you up, holding you to the bed with your legs wrapped around his waist, whispering how much he loves and that you are doing well, growling and stilling, your release triggering his, holding you when you are tired or in between rounds decorates the night. He holds your hand when you have sex, always, if your hands aren't roaming his body, feeling it. Otherwise, he'll hold you, preferably with all of your clothes off, no material between the two of you, you two speak about your day, the present and the future. It could even be a tickle session that ensues. The atmosphere will be lively, especially with his jokes and teasing and all the loves he has to offer.

Rowoon I Kim Seokwoo:

Prince of visuals, no?

Since he has such visuals, let's imagine that he takes you on a yacht (ya-ch-ht; hard time spelling that folks 🥵 + why do people go on a yacht? I'm struggling to think of a reason?). Seokwoo's marvelling over your amazement at the beauty of the ocean, the clear blue waters and occasional shade of the fish passing by. He even jokes that he hopes ''no shark gets the two of you'' and then laughs at your expression. Please, he's trying, don't throw him overboard :/. You enjoy the heat some more before he's by your side again, the yacht is paused, it gives you ideas. As soon as he's sat by your side, you take to straddle him, therefore effectively cutting him off. The surprise is evident on his face but his hands are resting on your backside, getting comfortable there. He groans out when your lips touch his neck, nipping the flesh to give him love bites which earns those husky groans of his. They send vibrations down your spine, tingling your core with wetness. With such a beautiful scenery surrounding the two of you, it's easy to fix your eyes on two places and think about how beautiful either are. He intimately hugs you, sucking an area on your breast, removing it from your top and placing the perk bud into his mouth, the act itself is hot and you grind down on him, not holding back your moans because of the silence of the ocean, save for the splashing of waves. You ride him, letting out sweet fucking moans, whimpering in his ears for him that it's so good, you can't get enough. When you are all sweaty, you cock warm in the shade, making out. It's a very soft moment, like sealing the deal? He wants to make you happy and he'll do stuff for you to achieve it. Cock warming is bonding for the two of you, to spoon and gossip about the other rich couples that you saw or speak about your day or just lay there, in each other's arms, enjoying the moment. When it's cooler, he would be okay to cock warming in a public space such as underneath a tree on a beach. You may be a bit far from the sea but you can smell it which makes you happy. It's a very calming day when you are tucked in his arm, leaning on his chest with his cock buried deep inside of you, feeling a little chilly but you are covered by a blanket. All in all, it's private for the two of you.

Zuho I Baek Juho

Cat man 🦸‍♂️

He would love to cock warm indoors, when his cats are sleeping, safely tucked in their beds as you are in each other's arms. It'll be quiet, you can only hear what's outside, maybe the train passing by or vehicles or pure silence which is hard to come but not impossible. If something's disturbing you like traffic, heavy honking, he's not for it and he'll move you two to somewhere else like the bed or on his studio chair. If you are tired and want to cock warm while he is producing, he'll hold you close to him and ignore the cramp in his legs. When he sees you sleep, he'll go soft and admire your prettiness, not forgetting to wrap a blanket around you. When it's silent, a relaxing atmosphere in which you can fall asleep easily, it's where cock warming will occur the most. An example could be in a space by the windows in a high-rise building or if the place was in a non-busy area like the countryside. There are occasional noises, some make you perk up while other's make you laugh, all while intimately spooning with him. You tell him: it's an indescribable feeling but you will try explaining. Don't be scared, he'll love your words. Relating cock warming to something and being subtle instead of explaining outright would prompt his chest to blossom with love from you, it's the feeling you've brought out from him and to in expressing his feelings, he may cry a little and kiss you like 'Can you feel this love I feel for you? I love you'- is what he is trying to say through the kiss. It's a very wholesome moment, your confessions to each other, spoken beautifully. He would also love to cock warm bare, without any clothes so that the two of you can be purely intimate and he loves your body. If you don't or lack appreciation for your fine self, he'll initiate cock warming if you aren't already and kiss your body and squeeze the parts he can't reach like his appreciation for your butt/ breasts/ stomach or whichever one it is that you are conscious of/ don't love as much as possible. And the opposite too! If he's not feeling okay or feels conscious of himself (pressure from people telling him how artists should look?), cock warming would be a way for you two speak about it whilst loving one another at the same time.

Yoo Taeyang:

What a precious guy

May be confused about the concept at first, even awkward the first time you attempt this, it takes him a little while to get used to this scenario: laying on the bed in each other's arms after carefully navigating your limbs around, his cock in you, completely. But he warms up, he'll make sure that you are comfortable and will also love to take this concept elsewhere, like the living room when you watch tv. When he's tired, he may not be able to carry it out simply because he has no energy or he may be horny (head) but not (body), it happens~ When that happens, he wakes you up with kisses, all over your body and he'd do this, regardless of what happened the previous night, it's automatic for him. Another scenario would be when he is bored, laying around doing nothing and fumbling for something to do, he'd initiate cock warming, that little sigh when he slips into you, relief. From there, he may definitely not hold himself back, the two of you would end up having sex. If it's you and he's doing something and you want to sit on his cock, he'll set down what he is doing and let you. As you hold onto him, he'll notice your whimpers, softly decorating his ear, letting him know how much you want him. He'll tease you till you are hiding away in the crook of his neck or playfully hitting him but he'll satisfy your desires all night. It's for you. However, when he does want to cock warm, he'll snuggle into you, nestling his head over yours. Little touches, lingering over your waist will be presented to you, as well as his admiration for your body. He'll cock warm in your sex or ass. When it's in your ass, he'll take his time admiring your ass, your breasts, any place he can place a kiss on really but he's not really kissing, he's looking and telling you how much he loves you.

Hwiyoung I Kim Youngkyun:

Resident cutie

He's got you in the palm of his hand especially because of that cute face, cute expressions, cute mannerisms, overall a very lovable guy. Can be awkward sometimes but it's okay because his loving personality makes up for it. Is also a shy little bean at first which makes you want to shower him with lots of love and praise. Glady accepts your kisses and hugs, gets shy when you first do them but eventually reciprocates them. To the point where it's comfort, safety and that you can be vulnerable with each other. *This is quickly turning into a boyfriend! Hwiyoung*. It's something that he suggests, the idea of cock warming. Really your jaw should drop when you hear it from your boyfriend. After a sex session, when the both of you are all sweaty and won't go for another round, he wouldn't mind if you were on your knees, keeping his cock warm with your mouth. He could be leaning back on the seat, going through his favourite sites while you sit in between his legs, ignoring the ache in your thighs. He would have you cock warming naked, bare for him and only him to see while he himself is fully clothed. That session could have potentially included bdsm, in a separate room that you have specially for it and this time, you could have been flogged, denied your release or being used, whatever your fantasies may be. It could also be the opposite way where you are the dom. In that case, it would be a command or a form of bonding where he will be punished if he moves when he is in your sex or you cuddle and speak to one another about the session, respectively. If bdsm is not included, then he would love to cock warm! To him, he gets to be with you and speak to you- whatever it may be about. For example, it could be deep, philosophical conversations or you both cuddle and sleep. Either way, he likes spending time with you especially in such a quality manner.

Chani:

*insert a gulp and a surprised face*

Remember that SF9 was discussing about mature concepts as a part of planning for their Kingdom stages and the editors used a fish filter to emphasise Chani's round eyes or rather, his innocence. ''HUh!??!'' is his brain, whirring away like an air conditioner at an office, rolling round and round when you propose this concept. He goes blank and you just sit back, waiting patiently. It has come to this moment. But his smile grows and it keeps on growing till he's unexpectedly pulling you onto his lap and connecting your lips. He knows that you should discuss it first but first, he wants to have you as close as possible when you discuss this. At first, he's peppering kisses on your face with you giggling, telling him that you want to continue and then he says, ''one moment baby'' before he swoops in for your lips. You reciprocate the passion, the moment is neither heated nor too soft, just in between and you have a make-out session for a couple of minutes. He doesn't know why, it's random but the both of you are loving it, like an initiation ceremony into a new stage of your relationship. And here were all along, navigating blind (👀🚫). It's planned with enough space for creativity. You are on the bed and you squeeze his shoulders when he presses at your entrance and fills you up. You wait to adjust to him. At first he's like, ''This it?'' and you have to laugh at that, quite true that you also though the same thing. Soon he's kissing you all over, sucking your nipple and the area around it, turning it a shade darker: he's teasing you, taking his time till he's done cock warming. He tells you that he would love to try out cock warming in your ass sometime and then it's all giggles from there. You ask, ''did you search-'', cut off by his fingers that circle your clit and press, drawing a gasp or a hitch of the breath from you. Then he starts to rock his hips and you know that cock warming is over, at least for now. He's hovering on top of you and losing control over his thrusts and spilling into you later on. A common scenario would be when he's playing games and you are sitting on his cock, maybe sleeping or doing something else, unbeknownst to his friends that he's speaking with on his headset.

[angeli-marco-writes]

Loki Laufeyson - The Sweetest of Them All

A/N & WC - The malteasers section is definitely not based on a true story... If you saw this earlier today, no you didn't. Tumblr fucked up. Again. I also couldn't find the original gif from the first upload. I do not own the character of Loki, nor the brands of candy mentioned. 2.7k.

Warnings - Allusions to sex and fade to black scenes with no explicit smut (16+), one mention of vomit, food and alcohol consumption, swearing.

Summary - Once Loki confesses to you he's never tried candy, there's no going back. You aim to change his mind over a picnic with a whole meal of sweets.

“SO... WHAT'S YOUR FAVOURITE CANDY?” you ask your boyfriend Loki, lying back on his ultra king size bed in the middle of his prince’s quarters in the great castle of Asgard.

You’re trying to pass it off as a passing question, a mild inquisition, as you prepare for tomorrow’s picnic. The food is up to you, the destination up to Loki, seeing as he knows Asgard better than you do, the quiet spots in nature to give the two of you some alone time for a date.

“I don’t know,” he says, rolling onto his side to face you. “Green grapes? Pine nuts?”

Your jaw drops open a little, your brows knitting together, “Those aren’t sweets. They’re ingredients in a fruit and nut mix I can get from the Aldi down the road. Seriously, what’s your favourite candy?”

“I just told you,” he deadpans.

“Chocolate? Fruit pastilles? Nothing?” you ask.

“I have no idea what those are.”

“Seriously?”

He holds his hands out, long fingers flexed, palms upwards, a wide smile on his face, “Yes, seriously.”

He looks so endearing when he’s being a sarcastic arsehole with the prettiest grin in the world painted on his pale, sharp features. You can’t help what you do next, rolling over until your legs are caging him in, his thighs trapped between your calves. You both had your heads dangling off the end of the bed, so the second you’re above him, his abs contract beneath your fingers, dancing under his loose shirt to reach the cold flesh beneath. His head lifts, a heavenly smirk that makes you want to do devilish things to him, his arms fly around your waist, his hands tentatively petting before settling on your ass, kneading the flesh softly.

“No Midgardian candy could be as sweet as you are, my love. I’m sure you’d still be the sweetest of them all.”

For some reason, you know he’s not just talking about your kisses. You smirk right back, leaning down to capture his lips teasingly, “Let’s test that theory.”

The sun beams down on the valley Loki’s chosen for you, the grass tender beneath your fingertips. You pray that Loki hasn’t angered Thor today so the blissful, heady summer weather can remain. He summoned a blanket, green with golden embellishments, and laid it down on the ground, his hand slipping in yours as he helped you down. I’d prepared a basket, unbeknownst to him, filled with Midgardian sweets. Late last night, after Loki’s revelation, you bribed Thor with some candy of his own if he went down to earth and got everything on your shopping list. He did not disappoint.

“You look breath-taking beneath the blessing of Sól,” he purrs, tucking your hair behind your ear, leaning in to peck your lips. “If She weren’t a personal friend, I’d think you were the reincarnation of her soul… ethereal.”

You giggle, a foreign sound coming from your mouth, bubbling up your throat and swelling in your chest. “Thank you, handsome.”

“Champagne for the lady?”

How he’s tried champagne but not Midgardian sweets, you're not entirely sure, but you’re certainly not complaining, especially not when he does that special flourish, that distinct Loki-ism, doing an ornate turn of his hand as a half magnum of champagne, sweating delicate, glinting beads of condensation, appears as though summoned from thin air. He follows it with two flutes appearing in his other hand, and with a mere wave, they’re both full. He hands one to you.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers to you.”

Your glasses chink, the bubbles in the glass fizzing away happily, like fairies laughing in the meadow. Trees branch overhead, casting dappled shadows between the golden tones, illuminating the high bone structure of Loki’s pale face. The two of you sip in silence for a short while, listening to the bird snog, gazing out onto the horizon, only the very peak of the Palace visible from behind the hills.

“What food did you bring?”

You arrange the flowing skirt of your dress, and lean to open the basket, revealing an assortment of sweet treats.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand… are these Midgardian delicacies I should be aware of?”

“No, silly,” you lightly smack his arm, tipping the contents out onto the picnic blanket, “not delicacies whatsoever, just earth sweeties.”

His expressive brows arch, rising up his forehead, “This is Midgardian candy? In these…” he sighs exasperatedly, picking up a packet of Skittles, “psychedelic wrappers?”

“Yup,” you giggle, “I thought we could try some.”

He drains his champagne glass until there’s nothing left, only to refill it again, “Lead the way.”

You select something simple to begin with, a bar of dairy milk, splitting open the purple packet and snapping off a piece.

“What is this?”

“Chocolate,” you tell him with a smile, your lower lip drawn between your teeth.

“Well, yes, it says so on this.” He waves the packet around, kissing you while you’re caught off guard. “But what is chocolate?”

“Fundamentally, it’s cacao seeds and milk. It’s sweet and creamy, you’ll love it.”

“Sweet and creamy?” he purrs, his pupils dilating, “we’ll see about that.”

Good grief, this God will be the death of you. As you’re giggling away at his last comment, he plucks the piece of chocolate from your fingers and slips it—somehow sensually—into his mouth. Your knees grow weak as he moans, a low, guttural sound of appreciation you’re only used to hearing in the bedroom. His eyes shutter in bliss, but once he comes around, he gazes at you, dazed.

“Not as delicious as you, but very nearly there. Why don’t we have candy like that here? I’ll have to have some words…”

“Ok, next, I don’t think you’ll like this one as much,” you chuckle, snapping the cap off the tub of Toxic Waste, and peeling open one of the black and shocking yellow packets. “It might be a teensy bit sour.”

His face fills with scepticism, but his trust in you prevails, so with the golden light on his face, he pops the entire sweet into his mouth. You can feel the inside of his mouth corroding from your seat next to him. Even being a God can’t prevent one from the sourness of Toxic Waste, as Thor so found out.

“Fuck me!” he blasphemes.

“I plan on it.”

“That…” he retches. “That is fucking vile. How do you eat these?”

You shrug, “I built up an immunity. I used to buy them on the way home from school with my mates when I was, what, eleven? They get better.”

If looks could kill, you’d be sprawled upon this picnic blanket.

“You might want a drink, though.” He furrows his brows. “The aftertaste is gonna hit in 3, 2, 1.”

“Oh, fuck you!” he shouts playfully, and lunges towards you, trapping you between his arms. “You get to share it.”

His lips attack yours, his tongue sweeping your mouth. You giggle and squeal at the fizzing sensation, the bitterness that invades your senses, but it fades a moment later, and all you can taste is Loki.

Sweat beads on your forehead where you lie, blissed out, drunk on the taste of Loki, sweltering under the heat. Briefly, you wonder if the chocolate has melted, but with Loki sitting there, his face just inches from yours as he extracts Skittles from the packet, examining them, eating them, your worries themselves melt away.

“These are… okay. The texture is mediocre, but they taste like artificial fruit juice.”

“Fair enough,” you say, “Maltesers now. I love these, I ate so many I made myself sick once.”

“Good grief, do you Midgardians have no self restraint?” he errs, his low voice dripping with a sarcastic venom that has your belly fluttering.

“Says you, Mr ‘I can get drunk three nights running because I’m hedonistic’.”

He gestures expectantly with one lithe, white hand, “I’m still awaiting your point?”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head as you fish around for the bag of Maltesers, glaring red and half full of air. “You have to just try one. No explanation.”

“If you say so,” he agrees. Instead of chewing the one you hand him, he just swallows it straight down, not blinking. It takes him a moment of being scrutinised under your gaze for him to cock his head to the side, running fingers through his long locks, “I wasn’t supposed to do that, was I?”

“You’re supposed to chew them, babe,” you laugh, handing him another one.

This time he does bite down, and instantly reaches for another to follow it up.

“That biscuit is weird.”

“That’s because its ninety percent air or something stupid.”

“It’s nice, I’ll be having more of those. Thank you, my darling,” he expresses, and leans down to capture my lips, tasting distinctly of Maltesers. I could get used to that.

“They are rather airy, though…” he says thoughtfully, gazing off into the distance, as though the hills and meadows will donate him the answer.

“They are, quite. In that case, try rock next.”

He rolls his crystalline eyes, leaning back as he shakes his head at you, the highlights of his onyx hair catching in the light to make him seem even godlier than before. “I may be Asgardian, and I know you mortals have bizarre eating habits, but never will you get me to eat rock.”

”No, silly,” you say, pushing up onto your elbows and reaching for the wicker basket. You withdraw a stick of candy in a noisy wrapper, unravelling it to present Loki with it. “It’s a British seaside delicacy, and it’s essentially just pure sugar.” You drop your voice to a deadpan following your elaborate sarcasm.

He takes one end of the rock, slipping it past his lips and between his teeth. The rise and fall of his brows betrays his intentions. You roll your eyes, ripping the wrap off with a great crinkle, and taking the other end in your own mouth. On a silent count of three, you both bite down. Countless different expressions pass over Loki’s face, from delight to disgust, perhaps even dread, but he settles on something more positive.

“Interesting, but perhaps too sweet. Saccharine,” he observes.

“I don’t blame you,” you joke between chomps, “I can feel my teeth rotting.”

We lapse into laughter momentarily, only for Loki to withdraw some more chocolate from the basket, this time an American brand.

“Hershey’s Cookies and Cream… isn’t this Thor’s favourite?”

“Yeah. Sweeter than Cadbury's, but it’s white chocolate so that’s why.”

“What’s the difference between white and chocolate?” he inquires, his head tilted inquisitively to the side, his dark hair brushing his shoulder.

“There’s no cacao beans in it, but slatherings of cocoa butter instead to make it sweeter and smoother.”

He breaks off two pieces, and hands you one, knocking them together gently the way you did with the champagne glasses. “I don’t like it.”

You burst out laughing, clamping a hand over your mouth to prevent an unfortunate accident. “Resolute but ok.”

Squinting his grass-green eyes against the sun, he leans beneath the shade of the tree, and buries his hand in the basket, blindly feeling around until he finds a big packet, and one he seems to like the look of once he withdraws it.

“Wine gums, I want these. Are they real wine?”

He doesn’t hear your answer over his eager opening of the bag, forcing three into his mouth at once. He can take more, but that’s not the point.

“Manners, my prince,” you tease.

“Sorry,” he snorts through a mouthful. “These don’t taste alcoholic.”

“Because they’re not, which you’d have heard if you weren’t so busy being a pig.”

Effortlessly, he wraps one arm around your waist, and lifts you into his lap, encouraging you to tie your legs around his waist. His voice becomes a low rumble you feel deep in your chest as he purrs, “You love how greedy I am, my darling.”

“Fuck,” you whine, “yes I do.”

But instead of kissing your neck like he normally does in situations like these, he shifts your positioning, and looks over your shoulder at the remaining treats and asks, as nonchalantly as ever, realising defiantly but not acknowledging how flustered he’s made you, “What next?”

You sit in the sun, feeling it beat down on your shoulders, feeling Loki’s hair brush your skin while patiently waiting in his lap while he tries the remaining four sweets. He’s not sure about Terry’s Chocolate Orange, even after eating half of one, because the fruit is such a strange contrast with the richness of the chocolate, and says he’ll deliberate later on, once he gets hold of more. He takes an immediate shine to Fruit Pastilles, and decides he wants a lifetime supply, to which you said he’d sell out the earth if he wanted nearly four thousand years worth: he didn’t seem to mind, naturally. He proceeds to compare Caramel to ambrosia of the gods, and asks for a pot of it that he can cover you in later: you’re certainly not complaining. He doesn’t like Love Hearts though, but finds the messages no there very “sentimental.” Had anyone heard him, they’d think he was being an unfeeling arse, but you know better, and know that he’ll take note of them, because he secretly finds them rather cute despite the mortal, base sentimentality of it.

Once you’re done with the taste testing picnic, he summons a crystal bowl filled with freshly picked (and washed) strawberries which he places between the two of you, having just about let you off his lap. You don’t wait to dig in, eager for something healthy after all the sweets you consumed.

It’s nice, like a real, normal picnic, sitting in the middle of a stunning meadow with only rolling hills and emerald green grass for miles, your boyfriend’s arm slung around your waist as you eat delicious, juicy strawberries and sip on expensive champagne. No expectations, just this sweet, blissful moment.

It’s too normal.

“Baby? Can you melt something for me and get a bowl?”

“Why?” he asks in return.

“I want to try something. Trust me,” you implore.

He’s sceptical, but he gets you a bowl, and melts the chocolate, proceeding to sit back on his heels and watch you expectantly as you take a strawberry by the stem, and dip it into the chocolate. You eat that for yourself savouring the explosion of sweetness on all of your taste buds, ricocheting in your brain, and as Loki tickles your ribs, you giggle, and make him one, handing it to him, sitting expectantly.

“I promise it’s lush,” you assure him, keeping your eyes trained on his every reaction.

You’re keenly aware of every twitch of his lips, every miniscule sketch of his brows, every pleasured shutter of his eyes. Chocolate dipped strawberries taste utterly incomparable.

He moans. And it is the most euphoric, erotic sound you’ve possibly ever heard in your entire life.

“I think I just fell in love all over again,” he states in a daze, his eyes unfocused.

“With me?” you ask, hopeful, bashful.

“No. With these chocolate dipped strawberries.”

Yikes. He sees you wince, and reaches his hand out, linking your fingers together.

“And with you. Every time I look at you, every moment I spend with you, I fall in love again and again, harder each time.”

That would be sweet if you couldn’t see his ulterior motive, “And because I give you sweets and have sex with you?”

He pecks your lips, grinning unashamedly in typical Loki fashion, “Yes.”

“You’re a fucking nightmare,” you tell him.

You take his ridiculously well sculpted face in your palms, yanking him in for a bruising kiss, during which you wind your arms around his neck, and fall onto the blanket with him. A moment later he’s rolling on top of you, kissing down your neck, biting on your sweet spot. Your clothes are gone in a second, and Loki’s skilful tongue is tracing a line from your navel up to your throat, before capturing your lips. He pulls away momentarily, breathless, smirking, his raven hair glinting gold under Sól.

“I never had a doubt, my darling, but you are most definitely the sweetest of them all.”

[rocorambles]

Thinking Outside the Box

Pairing: Matsukawa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Humiliation, Dirty Talk, Degradation, Mentioned/Implied Chastity Belt, Mentioned/Implied Sex Toys, Mentioned/Implied Isolation Bondage, Objectification, Choking/Breath Play, Overstimulation, Cum Play, Misuse of a Casket...At Best a Dubious Use of a Casket

Summary: Matsukawa rails you in a pretty casket. That’s it. That’s the plot.

A/N: The original request for this was a coffin, but I took some artistic liberty and changed it to a casket because a coffin just seemed SO uncomfy (I say as if I think casket sex is much comfier ROFL).  

You smile as you reach over to grab the proffered bag of takeout you’d ordered, excitedly sniffing the delicious scent of a hot and freshly prepared meal wafting from the hefty paper bag before exiting the restaurant and making your way to your boyfriend’s workplace. Matsukawa has been almost radio silent the past few days and your heart warms from the fact that despite how stressed and overworked you know he is, he had still never failed to send you a good morning and a good night text every day. So when he had sent an apologetic text telling you he’d have to miss your weekly date night, you had offered to pick up dinner and bring it to him so the two of you could at least see each other and so that you could make sure he was taking care of himself in person. And you laughed at how quick he was to eagerly agree. 

Ignoring the closed sign on the funeral home’s front door, you walk through the front entrance you know your boyfriend had left unlocked for you and wander through the furnished halls and rooms, noting how there’s not a single soul left in the building. Guess Matsukawa wasn’t kidding when he said the place was currently shorthanded, hence his hectic schedule. It’s eerie walking through the dark and empty corridors, passing rooms you know had housed countless corpses and grieving people and it only grows creepier as you make your way to the basement where your boyfriend currently is. 

Unlike the floors above that are at least carpeted and kept aesthetically pleasing, there’s no such care for the cold and sterile basement where all the more morbid dealings happen and you nervously gulp as you walk down the poorly lit walkway, breaking into a run when you see the light peeking out from the door you know Matsukawa is working away in. And suddenly it’s really not all that scary anymore as you swing open the door and bite back a giggle from how absurd your tall boyfriend looks, scowling down at a pale lilac and silver casket like it had personally affronted him. 

You’re quick to carefully place dinner on his desk before making your way towards him, sweetly pulling him down for a kiss before wrapping your arms around him and joining him in peering down at the casket, looking up at him with a questioning gaze when you see nothing out of the ordinary. 

You rub soothing circles on his back as he loudly sighs, shoulder slumping and melting into your touch. 

“My client doesn’t want this casket anymore since it isn’t ‘purple’ enough and I can’t return it because it’s past the grace period, so now I have to figure out what to do with this thing.” 

Furrowing your brows, you pull away from him much to Matsukawa’s chagrin, running your fingers over the plush velvet lining and taking a closer look at the colors and detailing. 

“Really? They don’t like it? I actually think it’s really pretty. Well, as pretty as a casket can be anyway. I didn’t even know they came in this color!” 

You keep rambling on, appraising the casket, eyes so focused on the object in front of you that you don’t notice a dark and inquisitive look in your lover’s eyes as he intently studies the pretty picture you make as you bend over the lilac container, gaze roaming over your figure as arousal stirs inside of him. 

How long had it been since he tasted you, touched you, ravished you? 

Far too long. 

Matsukawa and you have a healthy sex life. You suppose that’s a massive understatement considering the extensive “play room” he has in his apartment and the fact that you’re almost a permanent fixture inside of said dungeon. But between work and life recently, neither of you have had the time to fool around and he can feel the effects of that denial rearing inside of him as you prance around in front of him, so innocent, so clueless of the filthy thoughts racing around his mind.    

You squeal, clinging tightly to Matsukawa’s shirt as you’re scooped up bridal style, unsure what’s happening, but you blankly stare in shock as you’re gently laid inside the coffin, easily letting your arms fall limply by your sides when your boyfriend brushes your grip off of him. It’s startling to suddenly be flat on your back, but you whimper as you finally come back to your senses, shuffling around a bit to find a more comfortable position, arms brushing against the firm velvety sides, reminding you exactly what position you’re in and where you’re lying. You feel trapped, vulnerable, small, defenseless as you stare up wide eyed at Matsukawa from your new position. 

He’s always loomed over you, tall muscular body always overwhelming you, but like this he seems inhumanly enormous and humiliation washes over you as you feel your thighs instinctively clench, lust pooling inside of you at the familiar predatory leer he’s pinning you down with despite how wrong, how sinful it feels to be aroused in a coffin, in a funeral home, in a place of death and respect. 

“You look so pretty in there. Maybe I should take this casket home with us, stuff you with a dildo and a plug, keep them inside of you with your chastity belt and keep you locked up in here when I’m not using you. Treat you like the fuck toy you really are.” 

He means it half jokingly, but he can feel his cock twitch, pants instantly tightening at the way you literally whine in arousal at his words. His eyes widen briefly in surprise before relaxing and a razor sharp grin pierces his face and he almost feels giddy with sadistic glee. You always do react so adorably whenever he treats you meanly and he cruelly laughs at your lewd moan when he calls you a fucking slut as he reaches in to swiftly help you completely remove your pesky clothing.   

You’re always beautiful, but there’s something breathtakingly gorgeous and forbidden about the way your bare body looks against the lilac velvet backdrop, how the coffin walls frame and trap your body, displaying you like a mindless doll. His body moves on auto pilot, hasty and sloppy as he practically dives headfirst to join you in the small space, groaning as you wantonly rub and grind against his body as soon as he’s in close proximity, hands scrambling to shove down his pants and boxers just enough for his cock to spring out. 

He smirks at the way your hips arch, desperately shaking against his now freed length. And despite how tempting it is to just thrust into you, he takes his time to torment you, hovering over you just far enough that you can’t easily make contact with him, slapping your dripping pussy with his cock, laughing at how you wantonly hump the air in search for more. You really are an insatiable thing, aren’t you? 

You gasp as a large calloused hand wraps around your neck, tightening more and more until your body begins to writhe for a different reason than the coiling lust inside of you, black spots dancing across your vision as you struggle to breathe. But even in the midst of your predicament you hear his words clear as day. 

“When I keep you stored and locked away in the casket, I’ll make sure to drill a few tiny holes for you. Wouldn’t want my little toy to actually die on me before I get my full use out of her. It’ll still be a little hard to breathe, but you don’t mind, right? You always get so wet when I choke you.” 

To emphasize his point, his free hand not gripping your neck trails down your body and you wail when he easily slides two long fingers inside of you, the slick sound of him thrusting in and out of you permeating throughout the room.  

“I knew you were a slut, but this is filthy even for you. I can’t believe you’re this turned on from the idea of being my sex toy. Since you want it so bad, let me make your dreams come true, princess.” 

There’s nothing gentle about the way he suddenly slams his cock inside of you, immediately bottoming out, and you scream as his balls slap against your ass, eyes rolling back in your head from the sudden feeling of being stuffed full. Your lover is well-endowed and no matter how many times he takes you, it’s a stretch, but the pleasant ache of your walls being forcefully stretched, the feeling of being used as nothing more than a rag doll only propels your lustful end closer. 

Matsukawa groans as your cunt clamps down around him, almost making it impossible for him to piston in and out of you at the brutal pace he desires. It’s intoxicating, freeing, being able to just lose himself in the feeling of your tight walls and he knows he’s being rougher than he should be, hips crashing against yours with every violent thrust, but he can’t help it, finding peace in the sex-crazed haze, no thoughts of work or stress on his mind as he uses you to chase his own end. And it’s not like you mind if your loud moans are anything to go by and he keeps on thrusting in and out of you, even after you topple off that dangerously high cliff, drowning in pleasure as you convulse and cum all over his cock. 

But he doesn’t slow down, relentlessly pounding into you as you ride out the pleasurable waves and you feel like little more than an animal as you sob and drool, overstimulation washing over you, pain and pleasure breaking you as you deliriously beg for more, for him to stop, unable to decide between the two as your body thrashes from the overwhelming feelings bubbling up inside of you. And all it takes is one more look at your lewd disheveled face, the evidence of how thoroughly he’s ruined you, to have Matsukawa joining you over the edge, thrusting one last time and plugging you with his cock as he paints your insides with thick white spurts. 

Exhausted, he slumps down on top of your still trembling body and you welcome the warm and comforting blanket of his presence as he murmurs sweet praises into your ears, snuggling into his affectionate and tender caresses, heavy eyelids fluttering shut. But you fight the drowsiness as he softly kisses you, regret and apologies on the tip of his tongue for being so rough without warning that you wave away as you give him a dopey blissed out grin, pulling him down for another kiss before cuddling up to him once more. 

He’s careful when he finally pulls out of you, making sure none of his seed spills on the coffin lining and your face heats as you obediently listen to his gentle command for you to cup your pussy and keep all of his cum inside of you as he pulls up his boxers and pants. It’s arousing and humiliating how his dark eyes attentively stare at your used and naked body as he glides your panties back up your legs, nudging your hands away from the apex of your thighs as he snugly pulls your panties up, effectively trapping the thick fluid inside of you as he lifts you out of the casket before helping you dress and ushering you over to the desk where the now lukewarm food rests. 

He fondly smiles as you refuse to leave his lap, curling into a tighter ball when he urges you to sit in the second chair he’s pulled up to his desk and eat, staring at up at him with big pleading eyes as you cutely open your mouth like a baby bird begging for food from its mother. And how can he refuse when he knows that you’ll be aching and limping for days after this because of him? 

So he just playfully rolls his eyes as he brings a fork full of food to your mouth, snorting at how exaggerated and dramatic your happy dance and reaction to the first bite is, alternating between feeding himself and you. But he freezes, almost dropping the fork in shock when halfway through the meal you shyly ask him if he was serious about keeping the coffin at home, dark eyes snapping towards you, searching for any hint of jest only to be met with a curious gleam, a glimmer of hope. 

No one at the funeral home ever asks Matsukawa what he ended up doing with the unwanted casket and he supposes it’s for the best, mind drifting and daydreaming about the new piece of furniture now on display in his special room, currently occupied by his most prized possession. 

Suddenly work can’t be over soon enough.

[asset35-maya]

Nice Things

Inspired by this spectacular drawing of long-haired Nines by @marndraws

Gavin Reed never had nice things.

Every day was a fight for survival. He studied hard, worked hard and did everything he could to come out on top… but he never had nice things. If he did, they wouldn’t last.

Then the most beautiful creature to walk the planet entered his life.

A sheer scientific miracle. A combined feat of engineering and art. The most advanced android ever built… and the kindest soul the mean city of Detroit had ever seen.

Nines.

Gavin had no idea how to interact with the RK900 in the beginning. If it were any other new partner he’d have been his usual abrasive self, but there was something about the android that left him dumbstruck. No insults came to mind, so Gavin stuck to silent cooperation (and obedience, actually).

The RK900 model was designed to be aesthetically pleasing. There was no doubt about that, but it was how the android carried himself that took things to another level entirely. Poise, elegance and flair touched everything that he said and did.

It extended to the way he transformed his appearance after deviancy. Nines shed his Cyberlife uniform with the harsh turtleneck and stiff jacket in favour of softer, more delicate garments. He still stuck to dark colours, but his clothes were all loose and flowing. He dressed more like an interior decorator than a homicide detective (and it honestly served him well).

Gavin often had to tear his gaze away from the refined fabrics and unconventional styles that Nines wore. Gavin never had nice things… but he certainly had an eye for them.

And then there was Nines’ hair…

When Gavin had first seen the change from the default appearance settings, he had to leave the station, find a quiet alley and focus on bringing his breathing back to normal.

Nines… for some unknown, wild, spectacular, unprecedented, utterly amazing reason… had decided to lengthen his hair and let it hang loose around his shoulders.

The dark tresses were as expressive as the android himself. They danced when he laughed. They whipped the air when he animatedly told a story with his steel blue eyes flashing. They shone in every damn light.

Gavin couldn’t help but stare. He never had nice things… but he was drawn to them.

Not a day went by that he didn’t want to reach out and tuck the fine strands behind Nines’ ear, but he held back from giving in to such insanity.

Nines didn’t hold himself back though.

For all the times Gavin had been looking, so had he. He made his move in the middle of a very boozy Christmas party at the DPD. It didn’t take much of an effort. They left the party together on the flimsy pretext of Nines showing Gavin his Christmas lights at home… and promptly fell into bed together.

Gavin had never had nice things… but he knew exactly what he wanted, and when they were presented to him on a silver platter, he knew how to take them.

Nines’ hair was as soft as he imagined and even silkier than he dreamed. He couldn’t stop running his fingers through the lifelike synthetic fibres and Nines couldn’t seem to get enough of his touch either.

Bliss.

On the third anniversary of the Christmas party, the pair found themselves in very much the same position, only that they didn’t actually make it to the mindless office event this time. The day started and ended in bed.

Fairy lights glittered and tastefully-chosen tinsel framed the snow-laden windows of their loft apartment. The large Christmas tree emanated a warm glow that reached even the bedroom where they lay tangled in the sheets.

Nines was draped over Gavin’s chest, his fingers skimming idly across the warm skin.

“Sweetheart…”

“Nines.”

Gavin’s wary tone of voice made the android laugh. A velvet sound that the human would follow to the ends of the earth.

“What’s the thing you love most about me?”

Gavin exhaled loudly, hugging Nines closer.

“Baby, you know I ain’t good at words and shit.”

“I’m not asking you to write me a poem. Just tell me what you love most about me.”

He sighed and stared at the ceiling.

“Is this a test?”

“I don’t have to test you. I know everything there is to know about you. I can read you like a book even with my analysis software turned off.”

“Uh huh. Then why the inquisition?”

“Because validation is nice.”

Gavin snorted and carded his fingers though Nines’ gorgeous hair.

“Guess I can start by applauding your honesty.”

Nines hummed, rubbing slow circles into Gavin’s pec with his thumb. A few minutes went by and Gavin began to drift off to sleep.

“So what’s more attractive to you? My personality or my looks?”

Gavin’s eyes snapped open in alarm.

“What the ph-”

“There’s no right or wrong answer. Just tell me.”

Nines propped himself up on his elbows and peered into Gavin’s face. It was truly a magnificent sight. Two piercing blue eyes… plush lips curling into a smirk… a cyan LED… and a perfectly arched eyebrow. A pale, angular face… framed by sweeping curtains of dark, glossy hair.

Gavin gulped.

“I can’t choose. You’re the total package.”

“Cop out.”

“Pfffft. You tell me then. What do you like better? My mug or my sharp wit? Hah. Betcha can’t answer that for all the complex calculations your supercomputer brain can do.”

Nines tossed his hair over his shoulder and elevated himself further, pressing his forearms onto Gavin. His fixation with the human’s muscular chest was no secret.

“I can.”

“Huh.”

“You hardly said anything when we first met so I had nothing to go off for your personality-”

“Maybe I was mysterious and aloof and ya just couldn’t resist.”

“No, I actually thought you were kind of slow. All your medals and service awards didn’t make any sense to me.”

“Wowww.”

“So it had to be your body. Why else would anyone keep you around?”

“Is that why you stuck around too?”

“Maybe.”

“You little-”

Gavin reversed their positions on the bed, flipping Nines onto his back and curling huge biceps around his lithe body. Nines tipped his head back to allow Gavin to drag his teeth across his throat and latch onto his collarbone. Some moments passed like that until Nines regained control by hooking a leg over the human’s waist to slow him down.

“Fine. I confess. It was the leather jacket.”

“Seriously?”

Nines dug his heel into Gavin’s coccyx.

“It was everything about your appearance that you had control over… or weren’t born with at least. For instance, your face is conventionally attractive, but it’s all the lines and scars and little things that made me wonder what kind of a life you’d lived… what you might have gone through... how you came out stronger. And yes, your body is a temple, but it’s the work you put into it that I admire. You know how to take care of yourself and that’s…”

“Hot?”

“Hot.”

Nines accepted a rather sloppy kiss with grace. He rubbed his hands up and down his partner’s back.

“So. Tell me. What was it for you? What is it for you?”

Gavin’s right hand subconsciously found its way into Nines’ long hair and caressed his scalp. He sighed into the crook of Nines’ neck and took in the familiar scent that was neither entirely human nor entirely artificial. Everyone expected androids to smell like a new car but the fact was that each of them had their own unique smell. It was impossible to describe in words, but it was one of the many many things Gavin loved about Nines.

“Babe, I think you’re asking a shit ton of questions, but none of them are what you actually wanna ask.”

“Say more.”

“Gavin, do you love me because I look like a Greek god or is it because I’m smart as phck? Gavin, what did you notice first about my sexy android ass? Does the same thing get you off today, or is it something else?

I think… there’s something you already know… or something you think you know… and you’re just trying to get me to say it and dig myself into a giant hole.”

Nines didn’t respond but his LED did. Gavin chuckled and pressed his lips to the spinning yellow light.

“Called it.”

Nines rolled his eyes.

“It’s my hair, isn’t it?”

“Huh?”

“Admit it, you’re obsessed with my hair.”

“And you’re obsessed with my tits. We take turns objectifying each other. First sign of a healthy relationship.”

The android’s sharp nose scrunched up at a particular word and Gavin closed his eyes in resignation. Despite his best efforts he’d walked right into the trap.

“Dammit, babe, I didn’t mean it like that. I would never ever see you as an object-”

“My, my… we’re lying here two years to the day we became…”

“A thing.”

“Yes. And here I am reminiscing about what made you even look at me in the first place… and it turns out the credit goes more to Cyberlife than it does to me.”

Gavin groaned while his lover’s tinkling laughter rang out. He had to think fast if he had to turn the tables.

“So I’m that slow?”

Nines looked back at him, confused.

“You just dragged MY instincts. Like I’m dumb enough to fall for a program written by some geeky little code nerd. Like it was all totally predetermined and I didn’t see you tease and flirt and practically fall over yourself trying to get my attention for months. Huh?”

Gavin tightened his grip and gave his partner an affirmative shake.

“All those outfits and nail colours and pointy shoes and sparkly, shiny things. You saw me looking and you just kept stepping it up.”

He grasped Nines’ jaw and kissed him firmly.

“And your hair, baby… yeah, some genius worked on the tech at some point… but they didn’t tell you how to wear it. They didn’t tell you about the length or cut or angle. They didn’t tell you to walk around looking like a phcking prince. They didn’t tell you to roll the car windows down on the highway so your hair could fly in my face and drive me phcking crazy…”

Gavin thrust his fingers into the dark locks and pulled the android back in for a series of open-mouthed kisses and tantalising swipes of his tongue. Nines started to reciprocate physically, but Gavin swatted his hands away, not wanting to let things go further without making it clear who had gained the upper hand in their ridiculous game. He broke away panting.

“I love you. Don’t ask me why because there isn't one single reason. And I phcking love your hair. Not just ’cause it’s pretty but ’cause you’re the only motherphcker in that precinct who’d show up to the gristliest of crime scenes looking like a runway model.”

They stared at each other. Nines’ LED flickered.

“I… wow, sweetheart… okayyy… I… love you too.”

A moment of silence passed and Gavin rounded things off with his classic double wink.

“You’re welcome.”

Nines smiled, accepting defeat. He reached up and carefully rearranged his hair, letting it fan out on the pillow. Unable to keep the smile off his face, Gavin dipped his head down and returned his lips to Nines’, kissing him under the covers until his LED spun bright blue.

Gavin Reed never had nice things… until he learnt how to take good care of them.

//

Part 2: Red Dress

[softcallofdutyimagines]

Stay | Russell Adler x fem!bell!Reader

Summary: Despite having developed deep feelings for you after all this time working together, Adler takes you to antarctica like he was told. The only issue is... Things aren't as they seem when he finally confronts you.

Aka, sorry Treyarch, but this time the thotlers win.

SKSKSKS I ONLY MADE THAT POST TO TEST THE WATER, SO THANK YOU @smokeywhalee FOR ASKING FOR THE FIC. I ACTUALLY WROTE THIS WHOLE ASS THING LAST NIGHT SO COME GET THIS FLUFFY ASS BREAD Y'ALL AND ENJOY

Tags: fluff, angst, and angst with a happy ending

Warnings: some strong language and you might need a tissue box bc I sure did 😭😭

"Nothing like arctic air, eh?"

Russell Alder stands just a few feet away, hands resting squarely on his hips, looking out over the cliffs.

"Sure", you smile tiredly, a little sleepy from the long flight, as you walk up beside him. Without needing permission, you slip your pinky around his as he loosens his grip to allow you to do so.

Adler takes a glance down at your intertwined hands. He can't keep you in the dark for long. But still, he's afraid to tell you...

You move to lean your head on his shoulder, only to be left alone as he wrenches himself away.

"Listen Bell, there's... There's something I need to tell you", he refuses himself a glance at you. It would hurt him too much. You make an inquisitive noise and a long silence passes.

Perhaps it would be best just to get the hard part over. He was never one for beating around the bush anyway. "They sent me out here to kill you, Bell"

His voice is hardly audible, a clever trick to disguise the hurt in his voice. He grits his teeth, wondering if you really needed to know that, but then he remembers... He's done lying to you. You deserve to know.

Adler braces himself for the backlash, perhaps even a bullet in the back. Instead, he's met with a whisper.

"I know"

Your voice is only audible thanks to the bitter wind helping it along to his ear, leaving a ghostly caress as it passes him by. Russell turns around this time, almost disappointed to see your back still turned to him.

"How d-?"

You turn slowly, and even from there he can see the tear rolling down your face, "Why else would we be out here?", you gesture around to the great nothingness enveloping you both. You sniff and swipe a hand across you cheek, a joyless laugh escaping you, "Besides, you never take me anywhere nice"

In any other scenario, it would be playful and teasing, just like he knows you for.

Adler huffs a half hearted laugh at that, before tearing his gaze away. "Bell, I..."

"Oh, cut the shit Russell. Just do it, alright?", the tears flow freely down your glassy eyes now, "I know you have to... Really, I get it. A-and it's alright, you know? I-"

By now, Adler has made his way across to you. Even now, he hates to see you so upset. He gently grips your arms in his strong, steady hands, hoping against hope to give you some sense of ease. He needs to finish what he has to say.

"Bell..."

He then tries to say your name, but you won't allow it.

"Just shut up, alright? God, I hate you! I h-hate you..."

You struggle in his grip, beating weakly against his chest as your body becomes wracked pwith sobs, voice trailing off pathetically. Adler pulls you close, just in time, as you collapse into his arms.

"God, why? Why why...?"

You're choked up with hiccuping sobs again as Adler lowers you both to kneel in the grass. He squeezes you tighter, comfortingly he hopes, and if nothing else, to keep him from allowing tears of his own to fall too.

With a ragged gasp, you find your voice, allowing your anger and frustration to seap in at last, "After all I did for you people... This is how yo-?"

But you're cut off, and suddenly all your senses are overwhelmed with... Him.

Adlers lips crush into yours, the eagerness with which he kisses you is enough to erase all the fear, and pain, and sadness. At least, for the moment.

The crisp arctic air only accentuates the musky smell of his cologne, infusing every breath you breathe with its familiar scent. Charred birch and a hint of cigarettes. You almost smile at that.

He's been trying to quit, per your request, but... Old habits die hard.

The uneven stubble of his scarred chin tickles as he works over your lips, sucking gently, but adamantly once, then twice, before sustaining one long kiss again.

At last you part, lungs burning for air. Small puffs of condensation intermingle between your mouths as you catch your breath.

Adler takes one last gasp for air, to steady himself more then anything, before delivering one more kiss to your forehead. He knows he doesn't deserve to think such things, but...

You have no idea how long he's wanted to kiss you.

A few more tears start up from you again, but in that moment, he decides once and for all to commit to all the promises he's been wanting to make to you. He's done watching you suffer, and it's time you knew.

"I'm not going to kill you Bell...", he whispers against the warm skin of your forehead before pulling you to the crook of his neck.

You sniff, instantly frozen as you try to make sense of what you just heard. Too soon, faster then your mind can catch up, you search for words, "Wha-? Why? How? Russell, if they find out they'll kill yo-"

"Shhhh, they're not going to find out. I'm defecting. Right here, right now"

"B-but, why? I already told you, it's o-"

Adler moves his hands to cup your face, training your gaze to be all on him.

"No, it's not ok Bell. What we did to you... What I did to you... Was fucked, and unfair, but... it was for the greater good. But this? No."

"W-well ok... but-?"

"I'm doing this because I love you Bell", he barks it out, almost angrily, but even behind those old tinted aviators, you can see his expression soften almost immediately as he gently strokes your cheek with his thumb, "I love you... So much. Do you understand?"

He pauses for a moment, and his grand show of steely emotions breaks as he removes the sunglasses to wipe away his tears. And when he looks back at you... You're surprised at the reminder of how beautiful his eyes are.

"And... I'm... sorry I never told you before... Well, this"

Your mind is reeling at the rush of information. This... confession, isn't exactly news to you, but to hear him say it...

With one more sniff, Adler manages to pull himself together for a final moment of vulnerability, "Look, I know this is... a lot, but I was thinki- I...", he sighs and takes a deep breath. This is it.

"Would you... Come away with me? The CIA is going to be looking for both of us, and, well... No body and all, so I was thinking... We could find somewhere... off the grid, just you and me, start fresh? I know it'll be tough bu-"

"Yes!"

"-t I can protect you an- Wait... Yes?"

"Yes!", you seal the statement with a quick kiss. A promise. Then, you grow serious, "There's nothing left for me out here Russell... You're my only choice"

"...I'm sorry to hear that"

You cup a hand to his face, a tiny glimpse of that beautiful smile he loves so much peeking through, "No no, I didn't mean... This is a good thing. I meant to say, I wouldn't want to choose anyone else"

Adler sniffs and huffs a laugh, rocking gently as you pull in for an embrace, "Well in that case... I'm sorry to hear you have such terrible taste in men"

That earns a genuine laugh from you, and to him, it sounds like music.

You slip your hand into his, holding on just by the fingers before reaching up to plant a kiss over the scar on his jaw. You always rather liked those scars of his, no matter how much he wishes they never were.

But then again... He loves the way you use them to make him feel handsome, and he'll never understand how you do it.

After a few moments more, Adler gets up, pulling you to your feet as well. You wipe away the last of your tears, and as you glance up at him, a look of uncertainty crosses you.

He knows he has no right to ask you to trust him. Not after all the lies and the manipulation that got you and him to this point. But even after all that... The fact that you're willing to give him a chance humbles him to no end.

Adler looks back at you, and wishes for nothing more then the ability to make sure you never have to worry, or hurt, or live in fear ever again. But if there's one thing he does know, he'll be damned if he doesn't try.

"Come on kid", he rubs some warmth back into your arms, then kisses the top of your hair, "let's get out of here, huh? I've got just the place in mind..."

And just the place indeed.

A few months of preparation go by first, but at last you've managed to escape to the Swiss country side. Fields and fields of vibrant green grass and small wildflowers pass you by as Adler drives along, the great alps standing tall and strong just in the distance.

The sun glows warmly over head, and a little sparkle catches your eye. You look down and admire the ring on your hand once again, turning it this way and that, before stealing a glance at Russell's matching one.

With a couple more twists and turns, Adler asks you to close your eyes. A little while more, and the car comes to a stop. "Hey, don't open yet!", He hurries around to help you out, guiding you along want feels like a gravel path.

He puts his hands over yours, "Ready?"

You nod, the suspense absolutely eating you up. Finally, he moves your hands aside, revealing a small, brightly painted house before you. A stone path leads up to a white fenced porch complete with a swing for two.

The whole thing is practically overgrown with wysteria, coiling in and around the pillars and walls, and out front a wild garden stretches up towards the sun.

It's perfect.

You whip around, finding yourself unable to speak. But, he already knows. Adler sweeps you up off your feet and gives you a little spin as you shriek in surprise, melting into a fit of laughter as he sets you down.

He leans in and kisses you, just another of countless more to come, before pulling back. You have no idea how much it means to him to see you this happy....

"Welcome home"

[shurisneakers]

shut in [3]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, implied abuse, ptsd, fighting over beds

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: every part i introduce more anonymous characters smh. i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!! also if you want to be on the taglist, it’s mentioned at the bottom of the chapter.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

“Don’t make me shoot you, Wilson.”

“It doesn’t have to end this way, agent.”

“How’s it looking out there?”

“There’s been some talk. Apparently Serpentine isn’t very happy that their intel is dead. They’ve got people looking out for you everywhere.”

A frown adorned your face. Sam was leaning forward on his arms, head turned down as he listened to Ransone.

“How dangerous is it?”

“I would say that everyone’s a little wound up. Best not to go anywhere even a little populated.”

“Noted.” It would blow over in a while. The media coverage of Pierce’s assassination would die down with the changing news cycle soon.

“I can have someone pick you up wherever you are. Just tell me where.” 

“Don’t bother. We won’t be here for too long,” you responded, Sam nodding in agreement. Once it quietened down you could leave, go back to Ransone without blowing your cover.

“Whatever makes you happy. Just let me know when you’re out.”

The click of the call ending took with it the only noise in the room.

Sam picked up the phone to remove the battery, discarding it to maintain your security. Burner phones were useful, but you didn’t want to take any chances.

“Wait,” you cut in, holding your hand out for it, “I need to make another call.”

The both of you were seated at the dining table. A piece of paper lay in front of you, playing the dangerous role of being the mediator. 

You were trying to ration out your supplies and create a schedule as a way of finding middle ground. Things were more or less calm for the last two days, but the fight over the bedroom was wading into territory that could only be solved by a good old middle school fistfight.

Currently you were figuring out a meal plan so that you could establish some kind of routine. With bread as the only uniting factor, the other three components were going on a rotation. You had reached all the way till Saturday before running out of possible combinations.

“I’m just saying-”

“Don’t.”

“We’ve exhausted all edible options, it’s the only combination left-”

“I will not hesitate to fatally wound you.” You were only half kidding. The ridiculousness of the ideas he was proposing was entertaining, and you knew he wasn’t being serious. It was hard to catch a moment where he was. 

“Fine. But in case we get to the point where peanut butter and jelly is the only thing that’s left, don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

“I would rather die than shovel spoonfuls of plain jelly and peanut butter into my mouth.”

“Your survival game is weak,” he chided, tsk-tsking at you.

You only rolled your eyes at him, moving on to the next subject.

Bed.

“Easy, we just alternate days. You got the last two days, so I get the next two and then we just switch everyday.” Sam eased back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head leisurely.

“How long do you think we’ll be here?” you asked, writing down the plan he had just presented. The bed wasn’t queen sized with memory foam or any kind of privilege like that, but it definitely beat the couch with its odd lumps and depressions.

“A week tops. Anything more is just excessive.”

“Hello,” you said, voice low, even though you were well out of earshot of Sam. He was eying you from the living room window. If he was as good as he claimed he was, he’d know how to read lips and you couldn’t afford to have him do that.

“Code?”

You turned your back to the window, facing the large trees that loomed before you. “1993. It’s me.”

“Y/N?” He sounded suspicious, a little shocked, and you understood why he would be.

“Living and breathing.” You toed at a rock that lay ahead of you.

“Word on the street is that you’re dead,” he pointed out dryly.

“Not me; Pierce. I escaped. It was a trap.” When the rock you were playing around with escaped after a particularly hard kick, you started pacing up and down instead, “Ransone put a hit out on him because he thought he was leaking information.”

“How on earth did he come to that conclusion?”

“Don’t know. He was dead before we got there.”

“Who is ‘we’? You got someone there with you?” You didn’t realise it had slipped out during your conversation. 

“Another one of our guys. Apparently I was a backup in case he didn’t show up, but he did, so now we’re stuck together.” You averted your gaze to Sam who was still observing you from the window brazenly, intently. 

“Where are you?”

“We’re safe.” 

“Alright.” He sounded like he understood, albeit not entirely convinced. “Stay low.”

“Will do.”

With that you hung up the call, dropped the phone to the ground and crushed it under your boot heel. When you were convinced that it was sufficiently useless, you turned on your heel, making your way back.

You walked back into the house, beelining to the kitchen to make up for your missed lunch, only to be greeted with Sam sitting on the couch looking at you inquisitively.

“Who was that?”

“Nobody,” you answered straightforwardly, opening the cabinet to get two slices of bread.

“If it has somethin’ to do with this situation we’re in then I need to know who you’re talking to.”

“Just drop it. It has nothing to do with you.” You found the jar of peanut butter he had already opened, using a butter knife to spread it along the bread.

“Somehow I’m finding that hard to believe.”

“Believe what you must. I’m going to take a nap,” you answered evasively, chewing absentmindedly on the sandwich you had just made. You didn’t bother to look at him as you headed towards the bedroom.

“Hey now, hold on a minute. Who said you had bedroom privileges? You’ve been using it for two days.” You stopped in your tracks, face scrunching in annoyance. “If you’re keeping vital information about my life from me, then I think I deserve to not have a fuckin’ backache when I wake up in the morning.”

You quickly weighed the pros and cons in your head, imagining how the next few minutes would pan out if you just said ‘no’ and left. But in every imaginary argument you proposed, the bottom line ended with him prodding at you until he either got the information that he wanted or the bed.

Frankly, the bed was something you were willing to sacrifice to get him to stop meddling in your business. It seemed like the only reasonable way to get him off your ass.

“Fine.” You spun around to face him. “We’re making an arrangement.”

“Whoever has the bed has to forfeit TV privileges for that day.”

“Sounds reasonable. None of those three movies can be played more than twice in a row.”

That was more to preserve your sanity than anything. You had already seen each of them once, bordering on thrice for Die Hard. Sam’s fault, not yours.

“We should have a codeword. In case there's danger or something. Or maybe if you just want to be left alone,” Sam suggested, finger pointing to the blank space left at the end of the paper. “But it’ll be like solitary confinement since it’s so fuckin’ quiet here.”

Almost on instinct your mind flashed to images of dark cells. Quiet sobs. Blood stains on the wall, originating from clawing at it. Sunlight through one small window at the top. Utter loneliness except for yourself.

You could remember the soreness in your legs from curling up into a ball for hours, rocking back and forth. The smell of drain water collecting in the basement where the cell was.

Isolation.

“You got any suggestions?”

“Huh?” You forced yourself back to the present. Your knuckles had a dull ache in them from holding the pencil too hard.

“Do you have any ideas for a codeword?” Sam repeated, looking at you intently.

“No, nothing off the top of my head.” You shook your head, trying to regain focus. You loosened your grip on the pencil, letting it fall to the table.

“We’ll just leave it at ‘Brooklyn’ for the time being.”

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed to whatever he was saying. It was just a precaution in case something major happened. It was rather unlikely that you were going to use it anyway. 

Codewords weren’t uncommon in your business, but it was mostly used for missions or other professional standings. Regardless of being less adventurous than what you tended to work on, this was work at the end of the day. 

“Is that all?”

“Yeah, I think we’re done.” His chair scraped loudly against the ground as he got up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going out for a while. Need to shake off the possible osteoporosis.”

You didn’t bother asking where he was going, ears following his footsteps as he walked down the hall to the bedroom, probably to get his jacket that he hung up in the drawer.

You left the paper on top of the mini fridge, alongside the car keys and a few dollars you had nabbed in the hurry from Pierce’s house.

Staring around you at the silent room, you realised that there really wasn’t much to do. It wasn’t like you to have so much time on your hands. You could always go for a run or test out some of the weapons hidden here. 

You had the rest of the house to explore, plans to draw up, a post mortem to assess what went wrong on the mission, even though the last option wasn’t possible without Sam’s cooperation.

Fuck it, you decided. Couch it is.

Kicking your feet up, you grabbed the TV remote to flip to the news station. The town rarely had anything to report on but it would be worthwhile to know what exactly was available around. Possibly assimilate in the crowd in case you wanted to be hidden.

It took you a few minutes of mindless surfing through static channels till you found it. It seemed like a scene right out of a Hallmark movie; the reporter was holding a microphone to a child who looked like he understood nothing of what was going on.

You were barely paying attention as it flipped from segment to segment, other things taking precedence in your mind even though you willed yourself to relax. There really wasn’t much to make a note of other than a few good samaritans and how utterly boring the lack of content was. A few occasional glimpses of stores and other resources available in the background were the only interesting part.

You were starting to drift off by the time it reached the breaking news of the evening. Sam had already come back when the sky slipped into twilight. He barely acknowledged your form lazing on the couch, only offering you a greeting and a goodbye as he made himself his dinner to take to the room.

Your eyes were just about closing when the breaking news of that evening came in. It was all politics. People you knew from old missions waving and smiling their way to lead their country as if the dubious acts they committed behind the scenes to get there was erased.

Until you suddenly jolted awake, eyes wide open.

“Wilson. Wilson!” You hit the cushion furiously to get his attention when he didn’t respond the first time around.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

“What?” he yelled in response, mild irritation in his voice. You knew it sounded like you were shouting bloody murder even though no one was around other than you two, but you didn’t care.

“Look at this!” You couldn’t stop gawking at the screen. “Fuckin’ unbelievable.”

“What? What do you wa-” He stalked into the room, ready to tell you to stop yelling but stopped mid sentence when he finally saw what you were so concerned about.

“Reports claim that the victim was attacked early in the afternoon at his villa. Officers say they found multiple signs of a forced entry, following which he was shot dead. So far no arrests have been made but the police have since released photos of two suspects of whom, they claim, have reason to believe orchestrated the attack.”

On the right side of the screen flashed yours and Sam’s picture side by side. Old mugshots from a petty offence you committed years ago for which Ransone bailed you out.

“The pair are said to be on the run after escaping before law enforcement arrived. If you have any tips on the whereabouts of-”

You turned to look at Sam. His stare didn’t budge from the TV as they once again reminded the public what you both looked like.

Years of anonymity, working in the shadows and creeping around to avoid being recognised only to have the entire country know what you looked like.

“Well, shit,” he finally exhaled. “Somehow I think our stay here just got extended.”

Part 4

[whimsicallyreading]

Eight Second Ride

Okay, so I did a thing. This is for @charincharge​ who made me think this was a good idea and @wordsxstars​ who convinced me to post it anyways when I reconsidered. XD I hope y’all enjoy. 

CW- An inaccurate portrayal of modern cowboys. They ain’t shit y'all. XD 

The smell of hay and top soil fills the arena and Aelin can feel the anticipation of the crowd rushing through her.

So far, Bulls Night Out had been more epic than she was expecting. When Aedion had showed up at her apartment and presented her with the tickets, she wasn’t impressed. A night in a building filled with dirt, watching men attempt questionable things with animals wasn’t exactly her idea of fun.

Yet, with every near-fatal miss and the difference between victory and failure lying in the milliseconds between competitors- Aelin found she was quickly becoming invested in the bizarre sport.

Lorcan Salvaterre was the name highlighted at the top of the leader board with an impressive nine-point-one second ride. A lot of the men, she noticed, didn’t even make the minimum eight seconds before flying off their bull.

Aelin had watched in morbid fascination as a rider named Vaughn was tossed and narrowly escaped death. A hoof missing his head by a hair. His buddies had helped pull him back over the fence just as a gate at the far end of the arena opened. She watched as two men on horses roped the angry steer and guided it back towards the stalls.

When Vaughn saw the timer which now reads N/A he took off his hat and threw it on the ground, yanking on the ends of his dark hair. A couple of hands reached around to pat his shoulder consolingly.

Aelin’s attention was pulled away as Aedion squeezed his massive thighs through the tiny, crowded stadium seating. A cherry frosty in one hand and the funnel cake she requested in the other.

He set the dessert of fried batter and powdered sugar in her lap, and her heart nearly stopped in her chest. Whether it was from the sight of something so greasy, or the pure joy of the carnival snack she didn’t know.

“It’s about time,” she goads Aedion through a mouthful of dough. The sugar already coating her fingers and a layer of it dirtying her jeans. It was a mess, but so good.

Aedion’s eyes narrow at her as he sips his frosty, “It’s a mad house down there. All of the lines are like a mile long and I’m pretty sure a clown tried to grab my ass.” He snags a bite of her funnel cake and shoves it in his mouth. “I hope your snack was worth it.”

“Keeping me happy is worth it,” she smacks his wrist when his fingers try to swipe another bite.

The crowd roars and Aelin looks back down to see a rider running back towards the fence, a glinting smile on his face. On the big screen, they replay his ride and clock him at nine-seconds even, placing him in second place.

Aedion whistles appreciatively at the footage and Aelin claps when a Fenrys Moonbeam is placed just below Lorcan on the leader board.

“Damn, he’s attractive.” Aedion comments, and Aelin nods enthusiastically.

“I’m not going to lie. I was skeptical about this-“ they watch as another rider is helped onto a bull and they await the go, “but this is way more fun then I thought it was going to be.”

“It helps that all of these people are fine,” he laughs. Aedion pulls out his phone, and videos the next ride. It only lasts five seconds, but makes an excellent boomerang that he swiftly posts to his story. Followed by a selfie of them and their snacks.

Lysandra would be so mad she bailed.

“Shit,” Aedion swears as he drops his frosty and the red ice bursts across the front on his shirt. “Shit. I forgot napkins.”

“I’ll go get some,” Aelin assures, but as she battles her way through the crowd and bumps various limbs against other peoples body parts, she regrets her chivalry.

It takes five minutes alone just to get to the bottom of the stairs. Pulling herself free from the throngs of people, Aelin leans against the bars looking down, directly into the arena. She needed a moment of fresh air, not surrounded by dozens of sweaty people. Aedion could wait an extra damn minute.

But, as she peels her eyes open, they nearly bug out of her head. Directly below her she can see right into the shoot, and the bull rider who was being set up for his next ride.

His eyes are the same pine green as the forests of her homeland, and she can see the white hair coiled into a bun right before his buddy slaps a hat on his head.

He was beautiful. A work of masculine art. Muscles for days and Aelin swore she could gut glass against his cheekbones. Aedion’s napkins are long forgotten as she stares at the man situating himself onto the fidgeting bull.

Rowan Whitethorn- the name is plastered on the big screen alongside his previous states and homeland. He’s from Wendlyn, her mother’s country of origin.

When Aelin looks back down, she startled. His face is locked on hers, green eyes piercing her skin with its inquisitiveness. He’s close enough she can see his pail eyelashes droop, apparently satisfied by what he sees. Aelin forces her expression to stay neutral as his yes flitter back up her face to meet her own gaze.

Their eyes lock, neither of them blink. Aelin can feel the temperature of the building rise by several degrees and she bites her lip.

A man slaps Rowan’s shoulder, telling him the count down has started. He barely pays the person any mind though as the seconds before his ride dwindle down. Just before the horn blows, he winks at her.

Aelin’s whole face burns as the gate is released and Rowan is out of the shoot like a rocket. Her heart is thumping in her chest like a base drum and she’s about ready to lay on the floor and die.

That man. She caught that beautiful man’s attention and got into a veritable starting contest with him like a five year-old. Her horror is only exacerbated when she realizes her hands are still coated in powdered sugar and it was probably on her face as well.

So much for her image as smoldering, goddess.

A roar from the crowd rises like never before. The men above the shoots near her have their hats off and are cheering at the top of their lungs. People are stomping, clapping. Something big just happened.

A replay of Rowan’d ride is playing across several different screens. Below his name, is his time.

Twelve seconds.

Suddenly, a pair of calloused hands are gripping the rails near her face, and a heavily muscled body is pulling itself up and over the edge.

Aelin staggers back as Rowan drops onto the floor in front of her. His eyes are lit with adrenalin and sweat beads his brow, but despite the whirlwind he’d just gone through he looked strangely serene.

He marches in front of her grabs a paper from inside his pocket. It’s a crumpled paper with a bold number on one side and on the back is his name and information.

Information like his phone number.

Her mouth goes dry as he presses it into her hand. Rowan gives her a smile that sends a tingle down her spine and makes her toes curl in her shoes.

“You are good luck, doll. You should give me a call sometime.”

Aelin’s bravado catches up with her and she places a hand on her hip, meeting his gaze full on. “If I’m such good luck then you would take me out for a drink. Tonight.”

Pulling the hat from his head, Rowan combs a hand through the loose strands of silver hair cascading around his face. “I think I can manage that.”

“I’ll be in row ten, seat seven. When you are done.” She pushes the piece of paper back at hum and nods to where Aedion is sitting. He’s be pissed when he realized she would be ditching him.

“I’ll see you in about an hour,” his eyes rake over her one more time before walking away to join his jovial friends.

They clap his shoulders, he’s so tall some of them have to jump to rustle the top of his head. All of them enthused over his almost assured win, before they sweep him away and he disappears into the crowd, he looks back at her one more time.

An hour, she mouthes to him.

A half-grin graces his face and he tilts his chin as Aelin makes her way back to Aedion.

Yeah, the rodeo was definitely more exciting then she was expecting.

[meltwonu]

| 🍒 CH-CH-CHERRY BOMB! 🍒 |     [CHAPTER 9]

pairing; dom!seungcheol x camgirl!reader

this chapter’s notes; blowjob, dirty talk/mild degradation, sir!kink, name calling, fingering, v v v v mild impregnation kink,  filming/sex tapes, fucking in public, dom!seungcheol, uh oh is trouble is brewing in this chapter??? He h, , 😏, again thank you for your continued support! 🥺💕 and can I also say that not giving myself a chapter limit on this bad boy is really letting me ramble? LOL this was meant to be a short chapter and I cut it off right before the meaty bits(you’ll know where) but I was like no I'll give my readers a nice weekend gift instead of another cliffhanger 😌🍒 have a nice weekend bbys! ily!! 💕

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - ?

You wake up earlier than Seungcheol by 45 minutes; sleepy eyes sweeping across the quiet apartment.

The sound of his soft snoring lures you towards the sofa; softly tiptoeing your way over until you hover just above him.

“‘Cheol…” He sighs softly, adjusting from his side to his back as you grin. You round the sofa, swinging your leg gently until you can sit on top of his thighs.

Seungcheol grunts softly at this; blurry eyes blinking open until they focus on your figure. “Wuh--what?” His voice is much deeper and much more gravelly in the morning and it sends your body into overdrive, goosebumps rising on your skin when his hands immediately find purchase on your thighs. “What are you doing so early in the morning?”

“Nothin’~ Just thought I’d say thank you for last night, s’all…” You mumble.

“Lemme get my phone so I--”

“No!” A blush sweeps across your cheeks, hands peeling back the blanket that covers Seungcheol until his naked chest and boxer briefs are in view. “No, I--I don’t want to film this. I just want you to enjoy it... ” Whispering, your hands travel down his torso; admiring his toned body. “I think you deserve it after everything you’ve done for me.”

His cock throbs as he watches you, slow and unhurried in your movements when you palm him over his boxer briefs. “We have 45 minutes before you need to start getting ready for work~ Think of it as… morning exercise~” You giggle, squeezing his cock as he groans.

“Fuck, for who, exactly?”

You pout down at him, fingertips tugging his underwear down until his cock curves against his abdomen. “You can burn calories when you cum, y’know!” Seungcheol laughs breathily; sleepy eyes peering up at you as you wrap a delicate hand around his cock. “I mean, it’s not a lot but it’s still something~”

“Okay, okay, I’ll take your word for it.”

His morning voice has you biting your lip; pussy clenching around emptiness when you start to imagine how much deeper it could possibly get in the right scenario.

But for now, you focus on Seungcheol as you run your hand up and down his cock; palm wet with precum. “Is it weird to wake up with a boner in the morning?” Seungcheol sputters; a choked laugh on his lips.

“To be fair, it’s rather normal.”

“Huh… can’t imagine.”

It falls into comfortable silence, only the sounds of Seungcheol’s breathy moans in the otherwise quiet space.

You lick your lips, re-adjusting yourself until you’re kneeling between his legs instead. “Can’t be making a mess on your nice sofa, right?”

Seungcheol smirks down at you, resting his arms behind his head. “Better swallow it all, babygirl. If I even see a drop on the sofa, you know what happens, right?” His voice is eerily sweet and sends thrums of arousal down your spine.

“Yes, sir~”

He grits his teeth at ‘sir’; eyes fixated on your tongue when you start to softly lap at the precum that dribbles from the head of his cock. “God, this just makes me think of all the things I wanted to say to you last night.”

You peer up at him through your lashes, tongue tracing the vein on the underside of his cock. “Whaddya wanna say?” Your words are slurred together as you continue to lap at his cock; lips wrapping around his cock head as you swallow around him.

“Ngh, sh--shit, I--God, you were so fuckin’ cute taking my cock for the first time. And I wanted to praise you for takin’ me so well for the first time too. But I know I couldn't say that on camera.” He lets out a shaky breath when he feels you slowly start to take more of his cock into your mouth.

“You were so good for me, baby. So fuckin’ filthy when you fingered yourself with my cum...”

You moan around his cock which in turn sends goosebumps rising on his skin. “Fuck, I’m---I’m not gonna last long…” He warns; hips already thrusting up into your mouth as you continue to swallow around him. You pull off of his cock for a second, wrapping your hand around him again as you start to pump your hand up and down again.

“You can cum whenever you want~ And maybe next time just cum inside me too!” You pout.

Seungcheol nods just as you wrap your lips around him again; this time using your hand on the rest of his cock that doesn’t fit in your mouth.

His breaths get quicker and he feels his abdomen tightening by the second, only a choked noise as a warning before he’s cumming in your mouth.

You let out a surprised yelp as you immediately start swallowing the warm cum, hollowing your cheeks around him as you work him through his high.

He whispers your name a few seconds later and you pull off of him again, licking at your chapped lips. “Good?”

Seungcheol nods back, laughing lightly at your disheveled appearance.

“Good.”

“Hey hyung! Hey hyung!”

Seungcheol turns around, cheeks already aflame when he meets Jeongguk’s inquisitive stare. “Yes, ‘Guk?”

The younger male slides a candy bar across the concession stand’s counter top, eyebrows wiggling. “Say, do you need a cameraman?”

“What.”

Jeongguk lets out an exasperated sigh, “Y’know, someone to help… film. Get your good angles. You know what I mean?” He slides the candy bar further towards Seungcheol’s direction. “I’m your man, y’know? I got you, hyung.”

Seungcheol can only grimace in return, swiping the candy bar off of the counter top before he turns to leave. “I don’t think that’ll ever happen but on the offset chance it does, I’ll be sure to let you know. And for the record, one candy bar is not going to sway me.” Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head as he starts to walk away.

“Hey, wait!”

“Yeah?”

Jeongguk ushers him back; wrapping an arm around his shoulder as he leans in. “Me and a few of my buddies are going clubbing tomorrow night. It’s nothing major, just a few drinks after work but did you wanna come? You can bring your sweet babygirl with you.” He snickers, watching as the blush travels up to Seungcheol’s ears.

“I’ll see if she wants to come but I’m not promising anything, okay?”

“Hey man, a ‘maybe’ is good enough for me! Y’know, I specifically planned for Thursday ‘cause I knew you’d be busy on Friday, what with your new… career and all.”

The older male bites his lip; Jeongguk had no idea of the video. Yet.

“Uh, right. Anyways, I gotta go before Namjoon gets my ass for not cleaning the skates. I’ll talk to you later.”

Seungcheol makes it home in record speed; this time flinging the door open as he kicks his shoes off. “I’m back!”

Mild confusion crosses his features when he smells food cooking, shuffling into the kitchen as he sees your figure setting up plates of food. “I hope you don’t mind! I cracked open those cookbooks for dinner… Thought I’d try to be helpful around here!”

You shoot him a smile as you make your way into the living room where you set down the plates of food onto the coffee table. “Also… because we have to review this video before I can post it and I know how awkward that can be for the first time so I thought I’d soften the blow a little.”

“Guess that’s fair!” Seungcheol settles in next to you, a soft chuckle on his lips. “Hey, wanna hear something funny that happened at work today?”

“I’m scared, but sure!”

“Jeongguk offered to help us film.” You immediately choke on your food, setting down your plate as you try to catch your breath. “He--he w-what?” Seungcheol can only nod as he shovels another forkful into his mouth.

“Yeah, said somethin’ ‘bout getting my good angles ‘n stuff. Told him I don’t think we’d get that desperate for extra hands but that if we did, I’d let him know.”

This time you can’t stop the laughter that pours out of you; a soft blush on your cheeks. “Wow, I--I’m a little flattered, to be honest. Maybe once we’re more comfortable, we can enlist his help!”

Seungcheol’s eyes widen, panic clear in his eyes when he meets your cheery expression. “Wait, seriously? You wouldn’t mind him being here and filming for us? Wouldn’t that be weird?” Giggling in return, you pick up your plate again, picking at it as you stare back at Seungcheol.

“I mean, think about it, I’ve always filmed alone for the longest time until I met you. And now I’m getting to explore so many new things, also thanks to you. Having someone film for me… That---That just opens a lot of possibilities, is all. Obviously, neither of us are comfortable with it now but who knows, right? Maybe once we’re billionaires off of making sex tapes, we can afford a whole team of people~!”

“Wow, do I really sound like that?”

Seungcheol grimaces in embarrassment as he watches the video with you. “I told you it’d be embarrassing the first time!”

His shaky eyes focus back onto the screen, mouth agape as he watches his cock sinking into your pussy. “Fuck, I didn’t think it’d be this hot but… I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t the hottest thing I’ve ever seen… Not to toot my own horn or anything.” He mumbles.

“It’s okay to be proud of yourself, ‘Cheol! Confidence is a good thing and it takes a lot to film this kinda stuff anyway.”

You check to see how much of the video is left, noting it’s almost close to the end. “I think we did good and nothing’s out of place or too much. Is it okay with you to upload?” Seungcheol nods, “Seems good to me! I mean we cut off the beginning so it’s cleaned up, right?”

“Mmhmm!”

You start on uploading the video, biting the inside of your cheek as you slightly turn to face Seungcheol. “I don’t know what to title the video…” You mutter; sliding the laptop towards him as he furrows his brow in thought. His fingertips glide across the keyboard before he slides the laptop back in your direction.

‘daddy makes me take his big cock as punishment after i misbehave…’

“Don’t judge me, it’s just--s-similar titles I’ve seen before.” You laugh in response, getting back into uploading and adding various tags and a video description. “It’s what gets the people!”

“Speaking of people…” Seungcheol pauses, unsure. “Uh, feel free to say no but Jeongguk invited us out for drinks tomorrow night. Said it’s just a few of his friends. I told him I’d ask you but if you’re not comfortable, we don’t have to go.”

You contemplate your options, watching as the upload progress on the video goes up. “I mean… why not? I haven’t gone out for drinks in a loooong time, so it might be fun! We can always bail if it gets weird.”

Seungcheol nods as he gets up from the sofa, stretching. “Okay, I’ll come back after work to come get you and so I can get changed and then we’ll meet up with ‘Guk and his friends at the club.” The video finishes rendering and you quickly hit the ‘upload’ button before you smile up at Seungcheol.

“Sounds good!”

Thursday’s workday comes and goes quicker than Seungcheol thinks and he actually finds himself excited to go out for once.

“See you in a bit, Seungcheol-hyung!” Jeongguk waves him off from behind the concession stand, a bright smile on his lips. “Ah, yeah! I’ll meet you at the club! Don’t forget to turn off the slushie machine this time!”

He makes his way out to his car after he clocks out, humming as he goes. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he reaches for his phone as he turns the key to start the car.

“Hello?”

“Hey baby, just wanted to let you know I’m heading back. ‘Guk is off of work in about 30 minutes so don’t feel rushed to get ready.”

“Okay~ See you soon, ‘Cheol!”

“I’m home!”

“Welcome back!”

You meet Seungcheol at the door, already dressed in a short red dress and heels. “Well? How do I look?” You spin for him, showing off your outfit.

“Wow, that----that’s quite an outfit.” He exhales, “You look incredible.”

“Thanks! I’m actually pretty excited!” Seungcheol mimics your excitement as he crosses the space towards you, arm wrapped around your waist as he pulls you in close. “Mm, I’m excited too. Maybe if we’re lucky, we can see how well this dress looks on the floor too?”

“If we’re lucky~”

When you and Seungcheol get to the club, it’s somewhat empty in front.

“Seems about right for a Thursday, I guess.” Seungcheol offers, wrapping an arm around your waist again. “It’s kind of a dead part of town too, so this doesn’t surprise me.” He laughs, “Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten our hopes up.”

“Heyyyy, don’t be such a party pooper!”

The two of you turn to find Jeongguk with another male walking up the sidewalk. “Just ‘cause it’s a little empty doesn’t mean we can’t drink!” Seungcheol jokingly rolls his eyes as he tugs you in closer.

“You better watch yourself this time ‘cause you’re on your own. I didn’t drive and I’ve got this ‘lil lady to take care of.”

Jeongguk grins widely, shuffling closer towards the two of you. “Speaking of… Great video. Fuckin’ impeccable. I can’t believe hyung is packin’. Well, I can but whew, seeing it like that? Surprised you’re still walkin’ around.”

Oh, shit. The video!

You and Seungcheol share a panicked look; neither of you had even bothered to look at the video once it’d been uploaded, which meant that you had absolutely no idea how it was doing or what people were saying. “Ah, haha, ye--yeah! T--thanks for watching…” You mumble, suddenly shy.

Jeongguk wraps an arm around the unknown male’s shoulders, nodding in thought. “Had to give my support so you know I dropped a few bills in donations.” He tips his imaginary hat towards Seungcheol, winking. “Fantastic work, Seungcheol-hyung.”

“Shouldn’t we also be praising the lovely Cherry for her performance as well?” The unnamed male smiles widely, eyes forming crescents. “You’re pretty on camera but you’re just stunning in person.”

“I---uh, do I… Know you?”

Seungcheol’s eyes narrow slightly at the male, finding him somewhat familiar despite never meeting him before.

“Well, maybe? I’ve commented and donated a few times. My name’s Jimin. Or ‘j__min’ if that’s how you know me.” He adds a wink and a slight smirk, eyes twinkling when he focuses his attention towards Seungcheol. “And I have a feeling, I know who you are too. Although as far as I knew, the two of you had never met before. Correct me if I’m wrong?”

Seungcheol doesn’t immediately want to get hostile over nothing, so he untenses his jaw; eyes dancing over to you. “It’s.. a long story. And yes, your assumptions are right. But you can just call me Seungcheol.”

You and Jeongguk can feel the tenseness in the air as the four of you stand outside of the club and you share a look that screams ‘let’s change the subject’. “Oooookay, now that we’ll all introduced, let’s go drink!” 

“Hey, wait...” Seungcheol starts, “I thought you said a couple of friends? Where’s everyone else?” Jeongguk pouts, sighing. 

“They bailed. Said they didn’t wanna drink on a Thursday so it’s just the four of us!”Jeongguk all but drags Jimin towards the entrance, leaving you and Seungcheol alone.

“You okay, ‘Cheol?”

“I should be asking you that, baby.” He chuckles under his breath, shooting you a lopsided smile. “Guess this town is smaller than I thought.”

You laugh in return, wrapping your arms around his midsection as you tug him towards the entrance. “Hey, it’s okay! He doesn’t seem like a bad guy. Maybe a ‘lil sleazy but y’know.” The two of you share a laugh as you get through security; fingers linked together.

“If he tries anything, just let me know.” Nodding, you lead Seungcheol to a table that Jeongguk and Jimin are already sitting at, sliding into the seats across from them. “Holy fuck, you already got drinks?!” You exclaim, noting the glasses in their hands.

“Yeah! You guys walk so fuckin’ slow, I could’ve downed four drinks in the time it took you to get over here!” Jimin scoffs next to him, taking a sip of his own drink. “Didn’t Seungcheol say you’re on your own?”

“Won’t you take care of me?”

“No.”

You laugh at their exchange, leaning into Seungcheol. “Should we get some drinks too?” He nods, already getting up from his seat as he gestures for you to stay. “Stay here, I’ll get some for us.”

Seungcheol leaves to get the two of you something to drink, leaving you with Jeongguk and Jimin. “Hey, are you and hyung like… dating dating?”

A blush paints your cheeks even in the dimmed club lights and it only gets worse when you notice Jimin smirking at you. “Um, well, I--I wouldn’t say that but…” You trail off, unsure of what to say next. Were you dating? Or was it just physical?

“Hey, my offer still stands if you wanna film with me!” Jimin shouts over the music, shrugging. “Although, I don’t think your boyfriend would like it very much.”

“Boyfriend?” Seungcheol questions as he sits back down next to you. “Who?”

“You!” Jeongguk and Jimin both reply, laughing. Seungcheol hands you your drink before taking a sip of his own. He makes no comment; a little uneasy about the topic himself.

“Anyway, my offer still stands at being the cameraman. I’m really good at video editing too!”

You and Seungcheol have a few more drinks, delving into idle conversation with the other two before you decide you want to dance.

“Mind if I join you?” Jimin asks, eyes flitting towards Seungcheol. “If it’s okay?”

You and Seungcheol share a look, but he breaks eye contact to raise an eyebrow at Jimin. “It’s not my decision, I’m not her keeper.”

You turn to Jimin, a slight pout on your lips. “Just mind your hands, okay?” He nods, grinning as he leads you towards the dance floor.

Jeungguk takes the opportunity to replace you as he plops into the seat next to Seungcheol as soon as the two of you are out of sight, drink sloshing in his cup.

“You’re jealous.”

“What?” Seungcheol shoots the younger male an incredulous look right before taking a swig of his drink. “You’re drunk and sounding crazy.”

“Puhhhh---lease, hyung. You like her. Like, actually like her. Just admit it, we all know it!”

Seungcheol’s lips press into a firm line, eyes scanning the dancefloor until they fall on you and Jimin dancing together. “Okay, yes, I do like her.” He pauses, biting the inside of his cheek when he sees Jimin’s hands on your waist. “Now can we drop it?”

“No way! ‘Cause I know you’re jealous as fuck right now watching them dancing together which is why you can’t fuckin’ take your eyes off of them to even look at me!”

“How much you wanna bet your boy-toy is imagining ripping my head off right now?”

You roll your eyes at Jimin’s comment, swaying to the beat as he puts his hands on your waist. “C’mon, play with me a little here, doll.” He tugs you in closer, making sure to keep a reasonable distance at first. “He likes you a lot, y’know. I can feel the way he burns holes in my head wishing I wasn’t here. But the truth is, I love it.” His words have you confused, eyebrows furrowing as you hold his stare.

“What are you talking about, Jimin? Have you had too many to drink too?”

He laughs boisterously, pulling you into him as your chest meets his. “I love playing with people, just like how I’m playing with Seungcheol right now. I think it’s a fun little game, y’know? For example, in a few seconds he’s gonna march down here and take you right from my arms, fuck you nice and hard if you’re lucky and he’s pissed enough. Unfortunately, the two of you are easy books to read. You like being fucked hard and let’s be real, you love it messy. And Seungcheol, well, he’s practically in love with you and green is definitely not his colour.” Jimin ends in a wink, squeezing your ass once for good measure.

“Oopsies, here comes your loverboy now. Hey, call me if you ever need help, yeah? You know where to find me~” Jimin blows you a kiss right before you’re spinning to face Seungcheol who looks undeniably annoyed.

“Having fun I see.” He grins, eyes burning with lust as he wraps a hand around your wrist. “Wanna have some more?”

You can only gulp in return, nodding shakily as he drags you towards an empty hall.

The music gets more and more muffled the deeper he drags you into the club and you mentally curse yourself when you feel the wetness already pooling in your panties.

Seungcheol tugs you into a small private room meant for parties, locking the door behind him as he pushes you towards one of the sofas. “Guess we won’t be having that quiet night in, hmm?” He picks his phone out of his pocket, silently telling you to catch it as he throws it your way.

Your shaky hands open the camera app, pressing record and making sure to keep Seungcheol’s face out of frame when you lean against the back of the plush material.

“Jeez, babygirl, why do you like causing so much trouble for me, huh?”

“I’m s-sorry, sir, I just---I--”

“I take my eyes off of you for a few minutes and some guy already has his hands on your ass? Dirty slut.”

Seungcheol smirks when he sees your mouth opening in a silent moan, legs already spreading on their own as he makes his way towards you. You could feel the air shift; already knowing the mood he was trying to set. “Fuck, look at you. Already spreading your legs so I can fuck you. Just like a good ‘lil slut should.”

“Ye--yes, please si--sir, fuck me, please!”

He pries your legs apart even further, slotting himself between them as his hands slowly start to push the material of your dress higher and higher until it bunches up around your waist. “Soaking your panties already too? You’re so goddamn easy.”

From your view, the camera can’t see much. But at this point, you don’t even care. “Please, please…” You whine; already squirming underneath him.

Seungcheol undoes the button and zipper of his pants, tugging his underwear down with it as he wraps a hand around his already hard cock.

“Do I need to prep your tight ‘lil cunt or is it wet enough for me already?”

You shakily reach your free hand down, sliding your panties to the side before running your fingertips through the  wetness. “I’m--I’m wet enough, sir…” He pushes your hand away, grinning at you before he tears the material right off of your body.

“S--Sir!!”

Seungcheol laughs under his breath, tapping the head of his cock against your clit a few times before he drags it through your wetness and positions himself at your entrance. He gives you a second before he starts sinking his cock in, this time bottoming out in a single thrust when he meets no resistance. “Fuck, you really are soaking, you little slut.” You let out a garbled moan, barely remembering the phone in your hand as Seungcheol starts thrusting into you at a moderate pace.

You keep your legs spread to the best of your ability, soft whines spilling from your lips when the head of his cock grazes your cervix. “God, sir, you’re s-so fucking big, it--I’m so fuh--full…!” He leans in, plucking the phone from your hands as he turns the camera to face you instead.

“Look at her. My perfect ‘lil slut taking my cock so well. Don’t you think I should give her more?” His eyes twinkle with mischief as he brings his free hand towards his lips; licking the digits until they’re well coated in his saliva. “Do you think you deserve my fingers too? Or is that ‘lil cunt of yours too full?”

“N-no, please I--I want your fingers too, god, I--I want them in my pussy with y-your cock!”

Seungcheol doesn’t say another word; instead, he angles the camera right up to your pussy as he brings his wet digits closer, pausing his thrusts as he slowly sinks in a finger next to his cock. “Oh---oh fuck, yes!” You scream, clenching around his cock and finger. He clenches his jaw, because as much as he’d to sink more of his fingers into you, he knew that you still had to get used to the feeling at first.

And it takes a few tense moments and harsh breaths before Seungcheol resumes his pace. “Pleeeese~” You whine, tears blurring your vision when you look up at him and he makes sure to catch it on camera.

“Please what, baby?”

“P--please, put more of your fingers…”

He takes this as a sign that you’re okay; sinking in another digit as you let out a choked moan. “Oh my god, oh my g-god…! Ngh, h-hah, ‘m so f--full, it feels so good~” You sob. Seungcheol’s throat feels dry as he watches through the phone screen how your pussy looks impossibly stretched around his cock and fingers.

“Look at her tight cunt. Fuck, I can’t even fit another finger in her pussy... Surely, this is enough for you to cum though, hmm?” He quips, thrusting into you until your words become a jumbled mix of sounds.

“Guess I fucked her stupid too, huh?”

He keeps his fingers parallel to his cock, sinking them deeper and deeper until he’s knuckle deep. “Fuck, I can feel you getting tight around me. Go ahead and cum, slut.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you do cum; walls fluttering around Seungcheol as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your mouth can only open in a silent scream, toes curling in your heels when your mind goes blank as the pleasure washes over you. You feel your body buzzing, fingers going numb at the way Seungcheol keeps slamming into your cervix.

Seungcheol grits his teeth, doubling his pace in the midst of your orgasm. “Her pussy keeps sucking me in… Guess she wants me to cum inside her too?”

“Mmh… sir, p--please cum inside me…” You mumble, already slowly starting to come down from your high. “Want you to fill me up this time…”

And this time, Seungcheol does; grinding against you as he finally cums too. “Fuck, take all of it, baby!” He growls, fucking his cum deeper into you as he rides out his high. His head feels fuzzy; both off of the alcohol and adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“Mmh, ‘m so full of y-your cock and c-cum, sir…”

A shudder rolls down Seungcheol’s body when he starts to come down from his high; slowly easing his fingers out of you before he pulls out completely.

He brings his phone down to your pussy, filming the cum that trickles down to the sofa underneath you.

“Look at her pussy full of my cum. D’you think it’s enough to get her pregnant?” The words spill out of Seungcheol’s mouth quicker than he can think and you let out a shaky breath at his words, unintentionally pushing his cum out as he continues to film. “Or should I keep cumming in her and filling her up? Fuck my cum deeper into her pussy so I know she’ll get nice and pregnant.” He ends in a chuckle as he pans the camera up to your face; catching the way you bite your lip and the way your eyes glaze over in complete lust despite how tired you were.

“What do you think, babygirl?”

“I---I think… I think s-sir needs to---to keep filling me up with his c-cum…”

“Right answer, babygirl.”

[lavellander]

hello im feeling extra “touch the stove”-y today so. i was looking for any dialogue where solas just straight up lies and (of what i could find online/transcribed, obv) i didnt find anything that was 100% untrue. he’ll completely avoid the question, change the subject, give part of the truth, etc etc etc, but nothing was just Entirely A Lie

what really gets me is that there’s a handful of convos where someone infers something from what solas says, and he will even point out that he didn’t directly say that. like, he tells people how to see through his shit, lmao

here is an embarrassingly long ass list of examples, all sorted by what kind of not-lying he’s doing lol, just bc i am unhinged<3

*note that some of these are cut from longer bits of dialogue or have been split up from one conversation into different categories*

literally just Not Answering The Question lol

Dorian: How much “will” do they have? They’re amorphous constructs of the Fade. Solas: Hmm.

Dorian: Solas, have I offended you? Solas: If you have, why would it concern you?

Dorian: Solas, what is this whole look of yours about? Solas: I’m sorry? Dorian: No, that outfit is sorry. What are you supposed to be, some kind of woodsman? Dorian: Is it a Dalish thing? Don’t you dislike the Dalish? Or is it some kind of statement? Solas: No.

Dorian: Let me get this straight, Solas. Dorian: You’re an apostate – neither Dalish nor city elf – who lived alone in the woods studying spirits. Solas: Is that a problem for you?

Solas: [has a whole tactical moment about the red jennies lmao] Sera: Where d’you get all this, then? Solas: Do you wish to be unnerved by another tale of my explorations of the Fade? Or do you wish to learn something?

Vivienne: You must be pleased with what was revealed at the Temple of Mythal, Solas. Solas: Why should those ruins please me, Enchanter?

changing the subject before he backs himself into a corner

Gatt: I don’t see any tattoos, but you’re carrying a staff. Are you from a Chantry Circle? Solas: No. And I would prefer not to discuss it.

Solas: I find the fall of the dwarven lands confusing. Varric: What’s so confusing about endless darkspawn? Solas: A great deal, although that is a different matter.

giving the truth, but not the whole truth

Blackwall: Skyhold. How did you find it? Solas: I looked. Blackwall: Now you sound like Cole. You looked? Solas: This world is full of wonders for those who seek them.

Blackwall: You spoke of seeing death and destruction. Did you fight in a war? Solas: There are struggles across Thedas at any given time. I doubt you would have heard of it. Blackwall: An elven skirmish? Solas: In a manner of speaking, yes.

Cassandra: Solas, have you always lived alone? Out in the wilderness, as an apostate? Solas: For the most part.

Cassandra: Have you ever encountered templars before? Solas: Only at a distance. I am an apostate, after all. Cassandra: And they never caught you even once? Solas: I am a very careful apostate.

Dorian: We found elves, living ancient elves, at the Temple of Mythal. Does that bother you, Solas? If Inquisitor allied with the Sentinels: Solas: I am pleased we were not forced to kill them, if that’s what you mean.

Iron Bull: You’ve got an odd style, Solas. Your spells are a bit different from the Circle mages or the Vints. Solas: That comes from being self-taught. Solas: I discovered most of my magic on my own, or learned it from my journeys in the Fade.

Vivienne: So, an apostate? Solas: That is correct, Enchanter. I did not train in your Circle.

Solas: You are a man who made a choice... possibly the first of your life. Iron Bull: I’ve always liked fighting. What if I turn savage, like the other Tal-Vashoth? Solas: You have the Inquisition, you have the Inquisitor... and you have me.

from cutscene at beginning Inquisitor: [mentions the anchor closing a rift] Solas: Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct.

from cutscene at beginning Solas: [to a Dalish Inq] You are Dalish, but clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here? Inquisitor: What do you know of the Dalish? Solas: I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion. Inquisitor: [Crossed paths? dialogue choice] Solas: I mean that I offered to share knowledge, only to be attacked for no greater reason than their superstition.

from “I’d like to know more about you” convo in Haven Inquisitor: What made you start studying the Fade? Solas: I grew up in a village to the north. There was little to interest a young man, especially one gifted with magic. But as I slept, spirits of the Fade showed me glimpses of wonders I had never imagined. I treasured my dreams. Being awake, out of the Fade, became troublesome.

actually telling the truth but no one picks up on the gravity of it

Solas: [...] I believe the elven gods existed, as did the old gods of Tevinter. But I do not think any of them were gods, unless you expand the definition of the word to the point of absurdity. I appreciate the idea of your Maker, a god that does not need to prove his power. I wish more such gods felt the same. Cassandra: You have seen much sadness in your journeys, Solas. Following the Maker might offer some hope. Solas: I have people, Seeker. The greatest triumphs and tragedies this world has known can all be traced to people.

Cole: No, inside. I don’t hear your hurt as much. Your song is softer, subtler, not silent but still. Solas: How small the pain of one man seems when weighted against the endless depths of memory, of feeling, of existence. That ocean carries everyone. And those of us who learn to see its currents move through life with their fewer ripples.

Cole: You didn’t do it to be right. You did it to save them. Inquisitor: Solas, what is Cole talking about? Solas: A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything.

Solas: Empires rise and fall. Arlathan was no more “innocent” than your own Tevinter in its time. Solas: Your nostalgia for the ancient elves, however romanticized, is pointless.

Solas: Our people used to be here. Sera: Pfft, you say that everywhere. Solas: It is more true than you want to believe.

Vivienne: You must be pleased, apostate. With the Templars dissolved, your rebels will be most difficult to pacify. Solas: My rebels? Am I an agent for their cause, whispering poison into the Inquisition’s ears? Solas: How comforting. Vivienne: You enjoy seeing yourself as a villain? Solas: No more than any other clever man who wonders what he could do if pushed.

Vivienne: [about the Temple of Mythal] Now you know the elves were once a mighty nation. Solas: I always knew, Enchanter. The Temple of Mythal is just another reminder of what was lost.

(in the Emerald Graves): These forests have changed much since I was last here.

during the Fade!Haven cutscene Solas: It seems you hold the key to our salvation. You had sealed it with a gesture... and right then, I felt the whole world change. Inquisitor: [romance option] “Felt the whole world change?” Solas: A figure of speech. Inquisitor: I’m aware of the metaphor. I’m more interested in felt. Solas: You change... everything.

pointing out that people assume he means things he did not directly say

Cole: There is pain though, still within you. Solas: And I never said there was not.

Solas: You may well become fully human, after all. I never thought to see it. Cole: When did you see it before? Solas: I did not say that I had.

Iron Bull: We’ve got the alliance with my people. Given how much you love the Qun, I figured... Solas: I might scold you? Berate you for your decisions? Iron Bull: Hey. The Chargers died as heroes for the good of the mission. Solas: I never said otherwise.

Sera: Don’t you start. Solas: I’m reasonably certain I said nothing.

Vivienne: [talking shit about grey warden mages] Solas: I never claimed mages should be above the law, Enchanter. Vivienne: No, darling. You merely implied it, while offering no viable suggestions for improvement.

after infamous “side benefits” dialogue Warrior Inquisitor: You find my muscles enjoyable? Solas: I meant that you enjoyed having them, presumably. Warrior Inquisitor: Ah. Solas: But yes... since you asked.

diminishing things he does actually know by saying he he “believes” or “thinks,” or that things were vaguely “said” or “told”

Solas: I say what I believe to be true, even if it gives offense to those who prefer the lie.

Dorian: That orb Corypheus carries... are you certain it’s of elven origin, Solas? Solas: I believe so. Why do you ask?

Solas: It is said that we lived at a pace that sustained us for... ages.

making it sound like he’s talking about something/someone else, but it’s just him lmao

Cole: Do you know a lot about wolves? Solas: I know that they are intelligent, practical creatures that small-minded fools think of as terrible beasts.

Solas: No man can kill so many people without breaking inside. To survive... those you fight must become monsters. Iron Bull: The ones that kill innocent people, yeah. The rest... I don’t know. Solas: The mind does marvelous things to protect itself.

during In Hushed Whispers Inquisitor: I’m glad you understood what he just said because I’m not sure I did. Solas: You would think such understanding would stop me from making such terrible mistakes. You would be wrong.

misc

this one i wanted to include because it’s the only circumstance (that i came across) where someone directly asks solas to lie and he literally says he can’t

during the fucking crestwood breakup scene Inquisitor: [angry option] Tell me you don’t care. Solas: I can’t do that. Inquisitor: Tell me I was some casual dalliance so I can call you a cold-hearted son of a bitch and move on! Solas: I’m sorry.

*also note that most of these are banter transcriptions from the wiki; some are cutscene / other dialogue posted by either @/daitranscripts or u/karinini on reddit; it’s not all his cutscenes obv, but I’m not about to look up every single one individually sdlkfj*

[servingy-nneeds]

PLEASE DON’T NOTICE ME

WHAT KIND OF YANDERE ARE THEY?: KEIGO TAKAMI (HAWKS) PART 2

TRIGGER WARNING: MANIPULATIVE, Mentions of assault

COMBINATION:  MONOPOLY and REMOVAL TYPE

Monopoly type of Yandere tries to monopolize their lover in any way or form. Trying to get you to distrust people, in worse case scenarios wouldn’t let you socialize with other people. Their reasoning that ‘they may harm you’ and that you are far too naive for it to notice. Is extremely inquisitive on who you hang out with and where you are at a particular time.  

Removal type of Yandere go through great lengths in order to remove people whom they deemed isn’t worth your attention, everyone. This includes any forms of social interactions digital or physical. After all you have them in your life what more can you ask for.

You always considered yourself as a kind person, willing to always a lend a hand to others. But you never said you were oblivious.

You always took note his sudden shift in behavior whenever the situation involves you. The first time it happened was back when he saved you again for the second time when a drunk forced himself on you. Back when you first met you always thought he viewed you as an annoying person, the twitching polite smile he presented you gave himself away. And then the next thing you knew after politely caring for his non vital wound, he started sticking himself closer to you.

Initially he just wanted to get invited inside your home. After that he started walking you back home, he said “I just happened to be around this area”. And when he randomly showed up in your job one day claiming that your company sponsored one of his commercial, you knew something was up.

“Hey want to have a lunch together? I found this awesome place where they sell these mean ass bbq’d chicken ” an unknown number showed up on your phone one day. Ignoring the message you continued catching up on your report. That is until another message showed up “Sorry, this is Hawks got your number from one of your buddies, told em I know you and stuff, that good with you?”.

You would had simply ignored on how he got your number if not for the fact that you were new at your office, never had this so called “buddy” and worse you never told anyone your personal contact number you always used your company phone for communication.

The weeks after that he started invading your breaks pulling you away before your co-workers had a chance to invite you for lunch breaks. The result? they tend to shy away from you, finding it awkward being close to you when you obviously have a personal relationship with the no.2 pro Hero.

When you tried distancing yourself from him, finding a piss poor excuse on how you cannot accompany him for lunch or dinner, and even refusing to be accompanied on your way home, you openly voiced out your distaste at the idea of being flown back to your apartment. Not wanting your safety be fully in his hands.

“Hey y/n, darling I noticed you’re pretty distant this past days” he spoke to you when he caught you chilling at the company’s roof top one day, well you never thought he would be pretty upfront with your behavior.

“Yeah sorry ‘bout that, someone in my office said that I might be distracting you from hero work and all” you said lying, avoiding eye contact, you knew you were really scraping the bottom for excuse this time. Believing you easily, he never liked your co worker sticking close to you and now they instilled this idea on you now? Well he couldn’t have that. Deciding to prod again at your weakness, mainly that you were oozing with sympathy and easily guilt tripped.

“Well I am a pretty over bearing guy” he said softly looking down on his feet “I grew up pretty much alone in the commission and never really had someone to hang out with, so I just tend to be clingy, really wanted to try out this normalcy once in a while y’know? Sorry ‘bout all this” he said cracking his voice up a bit to further emphasize that he is showing his vulnerable side to cater to your empathetic side.

He really hope it works, otherwise he’d have to go plan B. Kidnapping you isn’t as much fun compared to the idea of you willingly submitting yourself to him.

“Maybe we can hang out at weekends” you said eyes full of sympathy.

Bingo.Next stop those nosy colleagues of yours.

“Hey y/n thank goodness are you ok?” one of your colleagues called out to you one day. Shocked by the sudden unusual approach from a total stranger you asked what the commotion is all about. “You know that guy that was interning for you? Well turns out he has numerous cases of assault, you can never trust anyone this days” she huffed before storming off.

The next was the same girl who approached you willingly trying to warn you. You found out a week later in a daily news that her body was found in the area where you usually commute and was burned to the point of unrecognizable. You voiced your concern to Hawks one day simply because there was no way he would be involved in any of these, after all he is a Hero and doesn’t quite have a quirk that allows him to burn others. He does know someone, but you don’t know that.

With a shaking hand you quickly dialing his phone number and meeting with him within a 10 minutes time frame. “I hate to be that kind of person, especially since I rejected your offer in the past but I really hope you can escort me back home, just this time I swear” you rambled as he hugged you tightly comforting you, giving you a shoulder to cry on for support. Shame you missed the way his eyes glint or the ever growing grin he sported

After courting you for couple of months, you noticed he wasn’t as clingy as before and was quite understanding when you set your boundaries. You thought he changed for you he didn’t.  It wasn’t a surprise when you accepted his proposal when he asked you out of blue one day presenting you a ruffled bouquet of flowers and a feather of his own, he claims it was to keep you safe. It’s a tracking device

Going out with him wasn’t as bad as you thought. He plays this boyfriend role perfectly. He had brought you two a matching phone when you accidentally dropped it at a lake during your date when an elderly bumped into you.Though sometimes you voiced out your concern for him that you weren’t accepting important messages at times.

After that he brought you a plush of a duck that looked strangely liked him which you thought was downright adorable and cuddly. Though sometimes when you sleep you feel as if the plush’s beady eye is steadily staring right back at you, but you chalked it up as being paranoid just like these past days whenever you go out without Hawks. 

Making you move in with him was next in his plan albeit he had some difficulty convincing you. He insisted it was for your safety. But really it was for his mental well being (1) his flat was considerably more secured, has a lot more advanced locks he’s got access to (2) He can now monitor you 24/7 even without that duck’s help (3) he’ll can finally record your voice whenever he wants, even without the bugged phone and best of all he’s got you all to himself, away from all those damn people that consumes your time.

So here you are now wearing one of his shirts, he pleas with puppy dog eyes that it looks adorable on you, spending another whole day in your shared living room, with nothing else to preoccupy your time. At this point you had no friends, only work buddies, your contact with your relatives even your parents and siblings were seldom to none, they insists it was you who cut them off saying you weren’t answering their calls or messages.

Hawks claimed that they were lying to you and that they didn’t wanted to come out as the bad guy for not talking to you.

Brushing your hands along his hair with a hum, while he lays his head on your lap, he insists it was relaxing therapeutic to him, while trying to watch some type of animated cartoon movie he insists was ‘safe for you to view’.

Moving around he grabbed your waist burying himself to your midsection then he said “You know hawks mate for life?” making you chuckle a bit thinking it was one of his bird jokes. “We’ll see about when you put a ring on this you simp” you said showing your ring finger.

He softly chuckled to himself thinking ‘Yeah you weren’t oblivious, you were dead blind’

Check out Part 1

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 23 - So Far From Who I Was

Masterlist; Chapter 22

Summary: As plans for operation in Stalsk-12 are underway, you and Neil can’t seem to find a common ground. His selfish plans overturn everything...

Warnings: Even more angst (sorry!!! swear it will be over very soon); swearing; some slightly dubious thoughts appearing in the reader’s minds but it’s nothing too serious.

Author’s Notes: Okay, I’m really sorry for the 10.8k, but it once again shows that I’m incapable of writing short things. This one is a wild ride and it was fun to write even if painful at times... I hope you’ll ‘enjoy’! Let me know how you liked it... and I promise... fun is near :)))

From that morning, when the precious intel magically appeared for you all to use, the metaphorical dice were cast. The last stage of the plan was officially on, and there was not much time to waste. After two days of chaotic talks, interrupted by training and trying to make sense of living aboard the icebreaker, you were told to meet with everyone else on the bridge for the official confab. Your war council consisted of TP, Neil, Ives, Wheeler, and yourself. And you were the first to admit that you had no clue what your job was supposed to be there. However, ignoring the deepening sleep deprivation, pounding headache, and weariness that has made home in your heart, you made it to the destination with time to spare. That morning the sky over the Barents Sea was overcast with heavy, grey clouds, increasing your internal melancholia and tiredness. Basically, life was hard. And you still contemplated joining the seals. Probably more often than any sane person should. But then you never really considered yourself rational. Sighing, for the umpteenth time this morning, you sat down on the sofa and relished in the solitude. In moments like this, without the oxygen mask making you feel close to suffocation, or the looming danger of losing your control around certain individuals, you were almost at peace. They never lasted long.

“Morning sunshine,” Ives marched into the room with a grin on his face.

He was one of the people you could tolerate. Still.

“Hi,” you cracked a smile of your own in his direction.

He took off the mask and opened up the laptop, preparing for the meeting. After a few minutes of companionable silence, Ives groaned, stretching his limbs exaggeratedly.

“The bloody bunkbeds are a pain in the arse,” you snickered at the comment.

“My condolences,” offering him a mournful expression, you stood up.

Wandering over to the panoramic windows, you took a moment to stare at a seagull diving on the horizon. Well, technically it was springing up from the sea, but you preferred to imagine the traditional way of things. Just to maintain a functioning brain.

“Not everyone is lucky enough to have a Prince Charming looking out for their comfort you know” the casual remark made you look up at Ives.

Sure as hell, he was grinning smugly, satisfied by how he has managed to catch you off guard. But that was not the most outraging bit…

“Prince Charming?” you repeated with a deepening frown, “Spare me please, I’d rather forget he exists” conversation was ruined.

Prince Charming, my ass. Unless those tended to be lying bastards that never knew what they wanted. Or terrifyingly beautiful idiots that should never be trusted. Well… fuck.

“Good luck with that” Ives patted you on the shoulder.

You knew that despite the nonchalance, he was someone you could count on. For a second, you contemplated asking him to punch Neil next time he shows up. However, all train of thought disappeared when the man himself walked into the room the very next minute. That same neutral smile on his face, blocking off any attempts to read his mood. His gaze slipped over you. A shadow of a frown as though your presence was not a pleasant discovery. Just brilliant.

“Good morning” Neil nodded in your direction.

You could see Ives hesitate as though wondering how much could have been overheard. You found that you did not care. Ever since your blunder in the kitchen, you came to a decision that you need not hold back. Neil never did, after all.

“Morning mate” Ives squeezed his shoulder in a greeting.

Before either of you were forced to initiate small talk, TP marched in, with Wheeler following at his heels. With the whole team on board, you could skip the awkwardness and begin. You took your seat on the side of the table and placed the dossier with plans right in front. That way, you could have an easy escape should it be needed. These days you could never know for sure. The first surprise of the meeting took place when you heard a scrape of the chair on your side, followed by someone sitting down. One look was needed to ascertain that it was the blonde bastard. Fab. You refused to give him any satisfaction of being caught staring and so you focused on the documents, reading the same set of instructions for the hundredth time.

“Do you want coffee?” his question took you by surprise.

Looking up into his blue eyes always felt too startling. Especially considering your history. But that did not seem to matter whenever your gazes met. That same jolt of electricity heightening your senses. Until you would look away again, Neil was everything you could focus on. On the periphery of your attention, you could see Wheeler prepare cups of the beverage in the small kitchenette. Right…

“Yes, please,” perplexed by his helpfulness, you gave him the tiniest of smiles.

In response, Neil only nodded and got up, joining Wheeler at the counter. That was surprising. Somehow you assumed that he would do everything not to interact with you like that. And yet he was willing to get you coffee, knowing full well how dependent on it you were. When Neil sat down again five minutes later and handed you the mug, you muttered:

“Thanks” your hands brushed for a millisecond, causing a minor heart palpitation.

Nothing new. He met your gaze again, smiling lightly. It was in the moments like this that you felt completely at a loss for words. The tenderness and attention felt like the old days, as though nothing happened. But it did. And it made no sense.

“Hope I got it right” breaking the silence, Neil gestured towards the coffee steaming underneath your nose.

He used to know your coffee order well. Unable to deny yourself the curiosity, you took a sip of the beverage under his watchful gaze. Of course, it was perfect, a spark igniting your body with energy. Ignoring the idiocy of the situation, you grinned at Neil over the brim of the mug. Conveying gratitude more than any words could. Judging by the glimmer in his eyes, he understood.

“Attention, please,” Ives’s annoyed voice brought you back to reality “You’ll flirt later,” you blushed furiously at the comment.

Shooting daggers at the squad leader, you focused all of the attention on the dossier again. Yeah…no.

The next hour was spent trying to make sense of the plans you all had been weaving since the intel came. The obvious parts were the facts: a deserted city in the middle of the Siberian steppe, the dead-drop in the cavern underneath the ridge, three ways in, and a lock, that was the crux of it all. The instructions from TP were ominous enough: no guaranteed way out for whoever would open the door. And that fact was the needed spark that day…

“So, temporal pincer” Ives summarized the last few minutes of the discussion, writing the words on the whiteboard “One team normal, the other inverted and they deal with the mercs. A splinter unit goes into the dead-drop and extracts the algorithm before the timer goes off” he added.

That was the obvious bit. You finished the coffee in one swig, feeling Neil’s knee bump into yours under the table. It was like this for the past hour. Sudden touches, making you wonder whether it was all intentional. Another form of elaborate torture. Or whether it was just Neil unable to control his long limbs as per usual.

“Kat is the backstop?” you asked the question, distracting yourself from the mess in your head.

“Yep,” jotting down the note, listening in to the squad leader, “That’s the simple stuff. What we need to figure out is how do we deal with that lock, and what about the splinter unit”

Fun. You skipped through the information again, hoping to find any source of inspiration in the materials.

“What do you mean?” TP asked, and you glanced up at him.

With the arms folded on the table and face frozen in a permanent frown, you could feel the tension radiating from him.

“They shouldn’t leave the field” Ives shrugged upon an inquisitive glare from the boss “It’s safer that way” the cold steel look in his eyes was foreign.

It was a terrifying realization that he was right. If you were to succeed, you had to make sure that it could not happen again. At least not in the linear sense. Looking around the people sat at the table, your heart sank. It could as well be that you were not coming out of this alive. Not all of you. TP had to survive if the story was to follow as it should. But for the rest of you, nothing was guaranteed. Enough to make the anxiety worse.

“Right,” TP’s sombre nod made you focus back on the moment “I don’t think we need to decide on who that will be this early,” he added, his gaze slipping over all of your faces.

Looking at the companions, you could see that everyone else was deep in thought. Mortality was never something you paid much attention to, preferring to stay sane by taking every day as it is and then moving onto the next. When you finished the university and started getting used to the idea that your future will be spent behind the desk of one of the governmental buildings in Whitehall, you stopped giving it much thought. Death would come when it had to, and that was it. But apparently not. Perks of choosing an unusual occupation. Feeling the stress levels elevate, you got hold of the passing thought. The damned lock that has been at the forefront of your mind since the news first came. Maybe now was time to voice the vague plans…

“When it comes to the lock… I’ve been thinking-”

“It’s rather obvious, isn’t it?” Neil’s interruption made you look up at him sharply.

What? You did not like the enigmatic smile gracing his features. As though you have missed something glaringly self-evident, and he was waiting for you to catch up. Impatiently, at that.

“Neil… elaborate please,” TP’s plea was dripping with tiredness.

Relatable.

“I’m the best locksmith out there” he shrugged smugly, ignoring your stare.

You did not like where this was going. Before you could find any words of response, Ives’s dry chuckle pierced the silence.

“Smooth, mate,” he added when Neil turned to stare at him.

“It should be me,” the blonde man pressed, annoyance seeping into his words, “Ives, you know that. Stop looking at me like that” he waved his hand at the squad leader.

The pieces clicked in your head. Fuck. He sounded too sure. As though he has already made up his mind. But…

“The person who opens the lock doesn’t have a guaranteed way out” Wheeler looked weary, as though she was scared about the direction of the conversation.

Exactly. The heart was hammering in your chest, slowly absorbing the reality. Figuring out the implications. No. You could not allow that. Even the mere idea was enough to make you nauseous. It was one thing to wish you did not have to deal with Neil, the other to consider that he would volunteer for something like that.

“So?” the nonchalance in his voice was terrifying.

He was still refusing to meet your gaze, but you persistently kept your eyes fixed on him. Urging him to give in. To be able to check this was actually happening. Because once Neil would lock his eyes with yours, you had a chance of getting to him. Until he said it to your face, you did not want to believe it.

“That could be a one-way trip,” TP voiced your thoughts, eyeing Neil warily.

You could see that he was surprised and concerned. Ever since they were stuck in the container for a week, a comradery has formed. Finally resembling what you were used to from them. But now Neil was willing to destroy it all. One-way trip. The ultimate sacrifice. No.

“Evidently,” another shrug.

That was the needed signal for your brain to kick back into action. To fight. Point out the insanity of the situation.

“Surely there’s a different way of dealing with this. We could send the locksmith before the splinter unit and-” your rant got interrupted with a sudden creak of chair to your right. Impatience.

“Why complicate something simple? I go in and open the door. That’s it” Neil flayed his hands around as though compensating for the tension permeating the room.

Wishing to dissolve it by fake excitement. Not on your watch. Urging your body to stop trembling, you garnered the strength to voice the obvious question. The one everyone seemed to skirt around for the past ten minutes.

“You don’t want to come back?” your voice wavered, betraying the nerves.

That was exactly what Neil needed to finally look you in the eye. With reluctance, he turned to you. When your gazes met, he flinched. Barely perceptible and yet there. Great.

“This isn’t about what I want or don’t want” you could tell Neil was just about keeping himself cool.

This could go either way. You found yourself on the tipping point, tiptoeing the edge. The fall never seemed so inviting. Almost as good as letting yourself drown in his eyes. Anything to ignore the reality.

“As if you knew what you want,” you muttered, aware he will catch on to the implications.

Neil clenched his jaw as his hand gripping the mug tightened. You have hit the mark. Top job. It took him a moment to respond. You could feel the gazes of everyone else fixed on you two. Their breaths were held as though afraid anything could set off the explosion. They were probably right.

“…Maybe you haven’t gotten the memo yet, but this isn’t about us anymore. If the task requires sacrifice, then be it” Neil finished the sentence with a hard look in his eyes.

Us? The emphasis he placed on the word made you blink in shock. On its own accord, your mind drifted back to the conversation in Tallinn. We’re just us. Me and you, was what he said back then. Only now, it was not that simple. Ignoring the ache in your heart, you swallowed hard, trying to find any traces of reason.

“But-” it was not meant to be.

Before you could add another word, Neil took hold of your hand, making you shut up. Shocked, you met his eyes, only to be paralyzed by the harshness of his expression. Your protests were not welcome. He has made up his mind.

“Darling, I appreciate the concern. However-” his tone was dripping with condescension.

The nickname felt like a slap. You tugged at the hand he still had in his grasp, cutting in sharply:

“How very patronizing of you” giving him the fakest of smiles, you added, “I had the illusion that you’re better than this… but well, as with most things I was wrong” a shrug to complete the insult “I still think there must be a way around it. There’s a reason why we got this warning” ending the torture of prolonged eye contact, you glanced around the table.

A silent cry for help. TP met your gaze, rapidly catching on to the desperation pouring out of your eyes. If anyone should get it, it’s him.

“Okay, hold on. Let’s suppose we do it as you say-” the boss interjected, putting all of the charisma into the sentence.

For nothing.

“Maybe the reason was that you need time to get used to the idea. Clearly, you’re the only one who opposes it this strongly” Neil was still looking at you only.

Cold blue eyes and lips twisted into a cruel smirk. That was the same man that fought with you on the highway in Tallinn. Terrible beauty. And yet, you could not look away, drawn by the gravitational pull that kept you tied to his side.

“What are you trying to say?” your voice sounded small.

The confidence was gone. The gloves were off. That was it. The explosion everyone feared. Judging by the way Neil leaned in closer, it was all part of the plan. Calculated and measured for the greatest impact. His knee bumped into your thigh. You froze as his nose brushed over your ear. Too close.

“That you lied to me a few days back. That you still l-” blood froze in your veins as you took in the meaning.

Before he could say the word, you hissed and lurched back.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” the curse ripped apart the tense silence.

The pain was unimaginable. You felt close to screaming. Helpless. Alone. Desperate. In love. All for nothing.

“As I said, sometimes feelings need to be put aside. Whatever they might be,” you heard his voice as though from afar.

Enough. Releasing a long exhale, you closed the folder and stood up. That was enough. He did not deserve the sight of your tears.

“Now, let’s assume I go, open the door for the splinter unit, and… What are you doing?” Neil noticed your movement a second too late.

The confusion on his face was almost laughable. Pity.

“What does it look like?” you scoffed, pushing the chair back onto its place “I’ve had enough of this sacrificial bullshit and personal insults” addressing the room at large, you added, “If anyone needs me, I’ll be at the range”

You noticed Wheeler’s sympathetic nod breaking in through the concern on her face. Ives looked pissed off, and you could not blame him for it. You have made quite the show. Again. TP just glanced at you, utterly perplexed. There was no logical explanation for any of this.

“You can’t just-” attempting protest, Neil took hold of your hand again.

You knew the purpose behind that. If everything else failed, he was well aware that touch was your weakest point. That previously it always worked. Not anymore. You met his eyes, encountering nothing but annoyance and frustration.

“Neil” Wheeler’s warning was a welcomed addition “Let her go,”

That was all he needed. Letting go of your hand, he gave you a final look. Something shifted for a split second. But you found that you did not care. Without a second thought, you bolted out of the room. The very last thing you heard felt like the final blow:

“She’s being ridiculous,” Neil muttered dejectedly.

She. Just that. With shaking hands, you closed the zip lock.

“And you’re stupid. Sit the fuck down,” Ives’s command rung out in the air behind your back.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you ran down the corridor. Fuck.

*** That day you have successfully managed to hide from everyone. Wheeler came to check up on you in the evening to, as she put it, make sure you have not taken the shooting practice a little too seriously. You could only offer her your tear-streaked cheeks and reddened eyes as you assured her that this would be the worst state she was likely to see you in. Was that a lie? Maybe. To put it bluntly, after the morning nightmare of a confab, death sounded like an interesting option. Certainly better than another week of Neil offering to get himself killed just because. You chose 2 am that night to finally emerge from the cabin in the search of food. Without bothering to touch up your bedraggled appearance, you tiptoed down the corridor, taking one extra look at the door of Neil’s room. Why? Fuck knows. The silence was encouraging. However, that confidence was to be your ultimate downfall.

The moment you dealt with the airlock leading to the galley, you knew that you were not alone. Neil was there, chatting to one of the squad members you vaguely remembered from the days spent in inversion. Dominic, or something. Briefly, you considered turning back around and leaving as though you were never even there. But when the men turned, and your eyes met, it was too late. Luck was never on your side.

“Hi,” you gave them both a nod and opened the fridge before either could take a longer look at you.

“Evening” Neil cleared his throat awkwardly.

After a pause, the men picked up their conversation in hushed tones while finishing sandwiches. Mindlessly you stared at the contains of the fridge, hoping to appear occupied. To be forgotten. But to no avail. You could feel someone’s gaze burning into the side of your head. Somehow you knew that if you dared look up, the blue eyes would be there. Ready to analyze you. To find weaknesses and strike when appropriate. You could only hope he would not do it with Dominic present.

Fridge held no answers. You closed it quietly and took hold of the granola bar from the cupboard. Only tea left now… easy. They were still talking. From what you could hear, it had something to do with the inverted weaponry and the training you were all forced to recap before Stalsk. You thanked the gods for the presence of the buffer, as you not so patiently waited for the water to boil. The false sense of security shattered seconds later:

“Thanks, mate. See you in the morning, yeah?” Dominic rinsed the plate quickly and started to put on the mask.

What is worse, Neil was not doing the same. Instead, he was still sitting at the table, smiling at the colleague.

“Yep. Can’t wait,” the fake enthusiasm radiating from him in waves.

But it seemed like only you could see it. Another observation for nothing. Your pulse quickened as you realised that it was only a matter of seconds till you were alone again. And the fucking water was still boiling.

“Goodnight, Y/N” Dominic smiled at you before moving to open the airlock.

“Night night,” your response came out too breathlessly.

Crap. Just like that, he was gone. It was you and Neil, staring at each other like two animals locked up in a cage. He quickly assessed your appearance, taking in the puffed-up eyes, tangled hair, and shaking hands. You wanted to ask him whether he was satisfied with his work. But that would mean admitting how much it hurt. And your pride was in the way. The kettle switched off. Neil’s taxing gaze stopped as his eyes widened.

“Is that-” that is when you realised.

Fuck. When leaving the cabin, you have not changed. That meant you were still wearing the only article of clothing that brought some comfort. Neil’s burgundy sweater. And he most certainly recognized it.

“Neil I-” his name was the only answer as you struggled for words.

Neil stood up and pounced, closing the distance. The malicious look in his eyes was terrifying. And inspiring.

“Why do you have my sweater?” to emphasize the point, he took hold of the material, drawing you near in progress, “I didn’t take you for a thief,” delivered with a cruel smirk.

With Neil that close and acting ridiculously, you realised that above all, you were tired. And had enough of this. Of him.

“I used the opportunity and went into your apartment,” a tight-lipped smile thrown in before he could interject, “Yes, I know, don’t worry, I haven’t stolen anything else,” you added, enjoying the surprise flashing in his eyes.

He forgot about the keys. Or did not think you would use them after everything. And now, when he realised how much you knew, it was hard to accept. That was encouraging. You waited for Neil to bite back, letting yourself stare at him without shame. His eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes lit up. There we go…

“You know that you’re not making any sense?” he blurted out the question and tugged at the sweater “You just- You’re telling me that it’s all over and yet here you are, wearing my clothes” another tug, bringing you just as close as the last time “I mean that’s one way of confusing me further” he finished on a whisper.

It took you a moment to recover. To realise that once again, you were too close. When that clicked, you took a step back and met Neil’s gaze. Too satisfied. His pupils were darker than usual, and that was worryingly enticing. Focus. Anger was the answer.

“Confusing you?” a sudden idea struck, “Fucking hell, you know what?” another step back, “Just take it, and let’s end this discussion” you started taking the garment over your head.

“What- Why are you...” much to Neil’s shock.

Good. The cold air hit your body as you took off the sweater and threw it in his face. You were eternally grateful to your morning self for putting on that tank top. Not much, but still preventing you from the walk back in only the bra. As Neil scrambled to pick up the garment that fell onto the floor, you added:

“I’ll give you back the keys tomorrow” you met his wide-eyed stare with pleasure, “There’s no need to stare. You’ve seen it before,”

Yet, the way his gaze roamed over your body was fascinating. There was nothing to see there, but still, he seemed transfixed. You took that as your chance to strike.

“Hell, you’ve even had your hand down my pants. Twice” Neil flinched, and you smirked, “Talking about wrong life choices and all that” it was nice to see him hurt.

For once. Even if it was another lie. He looked lost, unable to find a response to something like that.

“I-” a pathetic attempt at god knows what.

You took a final glance at him there. Clutching the cashmere sweater in his hand. Hair falling into his eyes. Shoulder sagged. Defeated. Confused. Finally.

“Goodbye,” you grabbed the mug and left before Neil had a chance of recovery.

The walk back to the room was cold. But probably worth the pain.

*** Sighing with happiness for the first time that day, you closed the door to the cabin and collapsed onto the bed. For the past three hours, you have been occupied with training that Ives made mandatory for all the mission participants, and you were exhausted. The only encouragement was the fact that the squad leader made sure your shift was different from that of Neil. What was even better, he did that without you needing to ask first. Just like that. And you were very grateful. Moments like those last two encounters in the kitchen were best avoided at all costs. Any contact was ideally off the books. Even when it hurt.  

With the sweater gone, you had no more things to hold on to. Well, apart from all those memories and the ability to read him like an open book. Utterly useless skills like algebra or functions at this point. You have changed into the comfiest set of sweatpants and a hoodie, hoping to spend the next few hours marinating in your misery. But long before you could even think of the first reason to cry, a knock made you jump up. Who the hell…. Grudgingly, you got up and opened the door.

“Hey…” you did not expect him.

Despite everything, your heart was naive enough to stumble upon the sight of Neil. And his stupid hair. And the repentant look in his eyes. What even.

“What do you want?” you decided to cut the bullshit, meeting his gaze coldly.

The visit was certainly unexpected. As was the fact that he seemed apologetic. Meek, even. Neil shifted nervously before answering:

“Here’s the sweater. You can keep it” he handed you the garment with a tiny smile, “It smells more like you than me now, but…” trailing off, he shrugged.

The implications of that statement were too much to handle. As was the fact that he gave you back the sweater. You gaped at him, speechless. It made no sense. But the silence stretched too long, and Neil looked even more uncomfortable.

“Okay…” you accepted the gift, making sure your hands have not brushed.

“I’m sorry about how I reacted yesterday it wasn’t reasonable,” he added, with that contrite tone you were not used to.

Unreasonable? That was one way of describing what happened the previous night. You did not know whether it was the glaring lack of confidence radiating from him or as something as simple as the fact that you missed him. But you could feel the resolve crumble.

“I’d say nothing you do is reasonable… thanks though” mustering a weak smile, you stepped away from the door, “You can come in if you want,”

Risky. And something Neil did not expect either, judging by the way he hesitated before entering the cabin and closing the door. You sat down on the edge of the bed and observed his awkward movement. A look around the small space. His eyes slipping over the few personal items you had. The sparring gear you have carelessly thrown onto the floor. And the bin full of used tissues. How humiliating. Then he perched on the chair and met your gaze wearily. Without you even needing to ask the question, he answered:

“I guess it surprised me to see that you’re using something of mine after everything” the honesty was strangely comforting.

For the first time since the disastrous mission in Tallinn, you could tell that he was genuine. Open for you to read and interpret however you fancy. That was intriguing. Enjoying the way his eyes roamed over your features, you leaned back on the bed. Relaxed. Sincere. You could try that.

“It surprises me too,” shrugging, you pursed your lips, staring thoughtfully at the window.

You did not have to look at him to imagine the expression on his face. A little concerned, extremely curious.

“How do you mean?” the soft tone made you glance back.

Sure enough, the furrowed eyebrows and sparkling eyes were there. Neil crossed his legs, studying you intently. You could tell that he wanted to know. That this was probably the closest you would ever come to a normal conversation with him. Might as well use it.

“Well, the heart knows best,” offering him a sad smile, you laced your hands in your lap.

Here’s to hoping he won’t turn it on you. But when you dared look up at Neil again, you were surprised to see him stunned by what you revealed. After a beat, he found the words:

“I thought you don’t-”

Of course. Unable to stop the irritation gnawing at your heart, you scoffed, preventing him from saying something so wrong.

“I never said that,” you explained upon his wide-eyed stare, “But that’s beyond the point, isn’t it?” you sighed, hoping to make him drop the topic before it would drift somewhere dangerous “Why are you here?”

You took a longer look at him then. Taking in the denial painted on his face. He wanted to press on, to get you to explain things. Not today. Then, returning your taxing gaze, Neil offered you his wistful smile.  

“I suppose I’ve missed you” the sincerity of the statement was terrifying.

You felt a painful pang in your chest, as though the heart itself was awaiting the tragic end to this conversation. Courage. For a second, you wanted to cross that meter of space. To… Yeah, what exactly? One memory of what he said in the kitchen a few nights back was enough to sober up. You had to be careful.

“...right” the next words were a result of annoyance, pure and simple “Are you sure there isn’t anyone better? Because I bet there are at least five people aboard this ship who would give you everything. Without questions asked. Maybe you should talk to them” once you were done with the rant, you faced Neil again.

He was gaping, speechless. It seemed like his sharp wit was missing. That was only good news for you. A myriad of feelings passed in his eyes. You could discern shock, offense, heartbreak, and most surprisingly, something darker. Contradicting the very next thing he said:

“If I was looking for that, I’d never come to you. Because I value you more. But I don’t expect you to believe me” the defeat in Neil’s eyes was confusing.

But not any less than you were at that moment. More than what? A cheap fuck? One could hope so. But at the same time, considering the multitude of instances when he seemed desperate to get too close, it felt like a lie.

“I don’t, so you got something right,” you admitted, hoping to keep the emotions in check.

His blue eyes were fixed on you with intensity, trying to read all that you were not saying. After a minute of excessive staring, you were the first one to give up. The last thing you saw was a smirk forming on Neil’s lips. As though he knew that you were close to breaking. Close to potentially doing something stupid. Jumping up, you paced to the window. Nothing but sea and sky. And the damned birds. But even that was better than being faced with what you have lost. After a few days on board the icebreaker, you got used to the casual outfits he sported. What was worse is that they did nothing to make this any easier. It only proved the theory that Neil looked good in anything. Well, fuck him. Only not literally.

With the silence stretching well past the point of awkwardness, you grasped onto the first passing thought, turning to Neil again:

“You’ve talked about… me with TP, haven’t you?” it was a strange change of topic, but also something that has been on your mind for a while “Because suddenly he seems to trust me and I’m not sure what the fuck happened” throwing in the expletive, you sat down on the floor with your back against the wall.

Neil eyed you curiously. He was strangely quiet, and you wondered why that could be. Whether it meant that for once, he did not know what to say. Or maybe because he already regretted coming to see you. Yeah, probably that second option.

“Yes, I’ve explained a few things on the way to Oslo” the diplomatic tone was mildly annoying.

He leaned back in the chair, making sure to face you in the new dynamic. Only the nervous foot-tapping was a sign that he did not like the direction of the conversation. Interesting.

“Such as?” pressing on, you took a moment to observe him.

These days he gave up on styling the hair as the wind outside would always blow it in his eyes. That was rather adorable. He unzipped the pullover, shifting in the seat. Tension spilling out in weaves as Neil waved his hand dismissively.

“It doesn’t really matter,” another remorseful smile.

So, he must have said much more than just the basics. Could he have admitted to things even you were not allowed to know?

“Well, you must’ve said some crucial bits if he’s now so eager to take my side” arching your eyebrow, you met his gaze purposefully.

Hoping he will catch on. Just like the matter of whatever it was between you, the battle plans were a clear no-go in this conversation. But that did not mean you could not hint at it. He had to understand that you were not going to give in so easily. That his suicidal mission was not getting a green light from you. The bait worked. Kind of.

“I said things that you and I should probably explain to each other one day” Neil’s grin did not reach his eyes.

Oh. He must have read the shock from your face, for his eyes glimmered dangerously as he relaxed on the chair. Your brain froze. Things? As in what? You both did and did not want to ask. Instead, you chose to attack.

“We won’t have time if you sacrifice yourself” simply put with a merciless stare.

Neil frowned, not expecting that kind of a dig. Before you could taste the satisfaction, his weary expression caught you off guard. Could that really hurt him? The cold of the wall was digging into your back.

“Let’s leave that for the meeting tomorrow,” a silent plea in the blue eyes “I don’t want to argue,”

He meant it. The tiredness etched onto his face told you as much. You were used to seeing the same kind of exhaustion every morning in the mirror. You could let him off.

“Okay…” a solemn nod before you got up and picked up the pacing again.

It was a strange feeling to be with him alone and yet not close. You realised that this was likely the first time since the early days when you were together somewhere private and were not even touching. It felt wrong.

“How did you like my place?” Neil’s question was like a much-needed grounding.

Swallowing down the discomfort, you turned back to him. The innocence was just a façade that he has put on for your sake. He expected an answer, and you did not know where to start. And then… the way his hair caught rays of sunlight was an inspiration.

“It was… enlightening,” you relished in the curiosity reflected at you, “For starters, I never realised that this is all fake” crossing the space in one leap, you ran your fingers through his hair.

Just like the old times. Only then, Neil would not shudder upon the initial contact. It took him a longer moment to recover. You smirked seeing his stunned face and resumed the movement, separating the strands slowly. You had no clue why this was the fact you latched onto. Blonde or not, he was a sight. But the idea that he dyed his hair would not leave your mind like the worst of brain worms.

“Ah, you’ve seen the photos” when he finally found the words again, his voice was hoarse.

As though whatever you were doing had some sort of an effect. A spark of confidence. You tugged at a strand sharply, the gasp making you bite your lip hard. A dangerous game. The words you have been biting back begun to spill from your mouth:

“It fascinates me because you act oh so confident all the time, and yet you’re pretending you’re someone you’re not” glancing down, you noticed the closed eyes and pursed lips.

It was definitely working. Whatever you even wanted to achieve. It was nice to hold power for once. To call him out on the bullshit you had to deal with every day.

“That’s just hair,” Neil protested weakly, grabbing onto your free hand and encircling the wrist.

Unable to stop the emotions bubbling under the surface, you scoffed:

“It really isn’t. I mean, why? It’s not like you have to scrape for attention” his eyes met yours with defiance, “Unless you’re compensating for something. In which case, that’s just ridiculous” the hit came with a visible flinch from Neil “And ever so manly” you perfected the punchline with a final tug on his golden strands.

That turned out to be a step too far. Before you could sense a change in the mood, Neil used the hold over your hand to bring you down. More accurately, to make you sit in his lap. Your brain caught up too late. Suddenly he was too close, with hands settling on your hips, securing you in place. Fuck. You opened your eyes, cursing the moment of weakness. Neil was staring right back, his eyes unreadable and dark. You messed up.

“What are you doing?” too breathless.

He caught onto that, rubbing circles onto your thigh, focused on you. It would be easy to get up and throw him out, ending this madness. But you found that you did not want to.

“I’m not sure. Say a word, and I’ll leave. But...” he trailed off, searching your eyes for something.

A protest, most likely. A clear-cut rejection. When he found nothing, he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. So close. Slowly your willpower was waning. You placed your palm over his heart to feel the warmth.

“Neil, why...” unable to find the words, you stared at him with questions multiplying in your head.

What was this? Was it why he came? And why, despite the hurt he inflicted, you could not tell him to stop?

“Because you’re here. It’s all I need to start feeling like...” another open-ended response.

Adding on to the confusion. His heart was beating fast, breaths coming out shallow. With fingers still tangled in his hair, you urged him to keep eye contact. That was the only chance of telling whether he was honest.

“Like what? Like you could want me?” the words were hard to say out loud.

For a moment, you felt like this was Tallinn all over again. Like you were losing sanity just for the sake of getting something from him. The ever-present yearning getting the best of you. The only difference was that this time Neil was the desperate one. His hands roamed over your hips and thighs, causing worrying jolts of electricity. It shouldn’t be that easy.

“You know that I do,” a whisper, eyes overfilled with determination.

Did you? Now – maybe. Any other day – hell knows.

“Maybe once I did. But recently... I don’t think you know what you want. You’re just...” you offered him the honesty, absentmindedly running your fingertips over his temple.

Exploring all that was familiar yet missed so much. The creases on his forehead deepened.

“What?” Neil leaned in once again, nuzzling the skin on your neck.

The shaky exhale felt like a defeat. It was increasingly hard to think, let alone give him coherent answers.

“You’re not making any sense” that had to do.

Only it was whispered breathlessly. Not convincing.

“Maybe this will make sense...”

Before you could contemplate the meaning of his words, Neil kissed your neck, drawing out a shudder. One of his hands wandered underneath the hoodie. His fingers ghosted the skin. You have not realised how much you’ve missed it until you got it. As he got braver in his ministrations, teeth grazing over your pulse point, hands stroking your bare back, you felt intoxicated. Unable to do anything but pull him closer and let your hands venture underneath his black t-shirt. It made no sense. But as soon as a reasonable thought would come up, Neil would do something to make you forget. It could be a kiss right under your ear or fingers getting too close to your sports bra. Christ. No logic, just Neil being the sole reason for insanity. The heat travelling up your veins was getting too evident to be ignored. As he gave you a particularly forceful mark by sucking on the skin in the crook of your neck, you could not hold back a moan. It pierced the silence accompanied only by your shallow breaths. Neil froze as though he was not expecting a reaction that strong. His breath causing goosebumps all along your neck. For a second, you wanted to pull him even closer, to give permission to take everything he desires. Even without a promise that it would mean something to him. He raised his head, meeting your wild gaze with the darkened pupils of his own. The proximity was suffocating. Unable to make sense of your thoughts, you leaned in, hoping to get lost in a kiss. To buy some time before you would have to make up your mind. That is when Neil did something unexpected – he pulled back, with a strangely remorseful look in his eyes. Fuck. Alarm bells started ringing out in your head, harshly reminding you about the reality of the situation. As though nothing happened, Neil’s hands went back to the meticulous caress of your upper body. But you could not ignore the nauseous feeling in the pit of your stomach. What if this wouldn’t mean a thing? Suddenly it seemed like the worst mistake you could make. The previous frenzy was quickly replaced with dread. Not meant to be. You retracted your hands from underneath Neil’s shirt and pushed him back. It took all the strength available to deliver the next sentence with necessary firmness:

“I think you should leave,” you hoped to hide the pain behind the schooled features.

If he was surprised, he was very good at pretending. His eyes searched yours for a beat, and then he let go of you. His touch was already missed.

“If that’s what you want,” Neil’s voice revealed remains of passion as he nonchalantly smoothed the hair you have tangled.

That was the cue to get up. With cheeks burning, you turned away from him, doing your best to cool off and keep the scraps of dignity you had still left. Before you could risk a dangerous spiral, Neil’s voice brought you back to the moment:

“Too close, wasn’t it?” you frowned at the casual tone.

He was zipping up the pullover, staring at you with startling composure. As though the past minutes have not happened. As though he has not marked you as his for the umpteenth time. It was terrifying.

“What?” you gaped, trying to collect the thoughts and keep calm.

“We got too close. And you’re worried because for a moment you wanted more than you should” Neil shrugged upon your quiet gasp.

He could read you too well.

“Don’t do that,” a pathetic attempt at a plea.

But it must have worked for his expression softened. A small smile split his face as Neil pressed the door handle:

“Just thought you should know that I don’t mind. I don’t have much left to lose,” a parting remark, and then he was gone.

You covered your face with your hands, falling onto the knees when the remains of strength gave out. What a fucking mess.

*** What you did not expect to be the hardest feat of all before the meeting the next morning was making sure that all the bruises were covered up. You did not need to add questions and human curiosity to the list of your problems. After all, it would have been obvious to anyone with a brain. You fucked up, and Neil was the reason why and how that happened. As usual. That was best avoided since everyone on your war council knew enough already when it came to your relationship. Or whatever the fuck it was.

As you walked in, everyone else was already on the bridge, spreading the materials and preparing the whiteboard. Wheeler gave you a welcoming smile which at that moment was worth more than it should. Any expression of kindness was at a premium. You sat down, and before you could process much of what was going on, a mug of coffee appeared before your eyes. Just so. A second later, Neil took the seat next to you without acknowledging your existence. Cool. Perplexed, you looked around the room, locking eyes with TP. He shrugged as though exactly aware of your issues yet unable to help. That much was enough to make you feel a tiny bit better. After a beat, the boss spoke up:

“Before we begin… Y/N?” his question interrupted the first experimental sip of the coffee.

Perfect. Again.

“Yes?” you ignored the annoying spike of anxiety upon being the centre of attention.

“Is Mahir going back to meet Kat in Vietnam on the 14th?”

Ah, that. The little side quest that you have been given ages ago with close to no information towards its purpose. Thankfully, Mahir cooperated. No questions were asked as you arranged for him to invert in London and travel to Vietnam to be Kat’s aide. That kind of smooth operation was a welcomed change.

“Yep, as ordered,” you offered the dark-eyed man a small smile, “Turns out I am capable of not fucking up some things…” that addition was a product of spite.

It was rewarding to see Ives and Wheeler crack a grin at your comment. It made you feel less alienated, as though it was only the man on your right that had issues. And he might as well be ignored. Neil was being helpful in his silence too, moodily staring at the papers in front, refusing to lay his eyes on you. It was painful, especially considering the previous day, but it also meant you felt more at ease.

“It would be great if we could agree upon a few things finally,” TP interrupted the silence, looking at you all expectantly.

“Can’t promise you that, chief” you shrugged, aware of the way Neil shifted in his seat.

His knee bumped into your leg, starting the irritating dance you thought you had moved past. But, supposedly, laying his hands all over your body yesterday was not enough for him.

“I know. But let’s try” you focused all the attention back on the boss “Splinter unit,” the phrase fell between you all like a death sentence “Who and how?”

“The tunnel” you picked up the map and showed it to him, “That’s what the intel said” taking the sip of coffee, you added, “As towards who…”

One of the sleepless nights has been spent wondering whether you should not volunteer for that. The logic was that there was a reason why TP chose you as his link with everyone else. It meant his future version trusted you enough. But it also meant you were important. In those hopeless moments, it felt like maybe that was the purpose. And if it would mean no coming back? So be it. Death for the means of saving the world did not sound half that bad. Before you could express the thoughts, TP spoke up again:

“It should be me” his voice was emotionless.

“Why-” Neil’s voice rang out in the room.

You glanced at him, noticing the tension and worry radiating from him. It was a strange situation; everyone could see that. You all knew that TP had to survive. After all, how could you be at this point if he did not? He had to set up Tenet, hire Neil, Ives and everyone else, prepare the ground for the operation to unfold just like this. But then, considering everything you have been told about temporal paradoxes… could it be that simple? Or was Neil wrong, and what’s happened could also unhappen, so to speak? Too much. Your head began to pound.

“I’m the protagonist of this whole operation. The reason why you’re all here” that was convincing.

And in any other situation, you would have laughed at the prophetic overtone of the statement. But now other emotions were more prominent…

“Mmmm, I’m here because of him,” you retorted, pointedly staring at Neil, 

“Only, he doesn’t care” that is when the man turned to look at you for the first time that morning.

Irritated. Fed up with your bullshit. Lips pressed into a thin line. Eyes glimmering dangerously. Nothing new.

“What are you-” the sharp edge to his voice was satisfying.

Any kind of reaction meant you succeeded at pissing him off. Somehow back then, it was the best thing that could happen.

“Just being salty. Don’t mind me” you shrugged, making sure to pat his shoulder quickly.

Another tiny stab. Neil’s eyes flicked to your hand in a flash and then back to meet your eyes. You could only give him a deliberate smirk.

“Anyways… The splinter unit will be two people” Ives brought back the topic with palpable annoyance, “I’ve got an obvious choice on my mind, but I’ll discuss that later with some of you” the definitive tone would have made anyone shut up.

Not you though. Not when there was nothing to lose, and you decided that you might as well have fun with this mess.

“Why so mysterious, huh?” another quip, all to make Ives look up at you with surprise.

He rolled his eyes, showing you exactly what he thought of your new approach to things.

“We’ve got a more pressing topic to deal with” nothing to play with there.

What a shame. Mouthing an apology at the squad leader, you could feel the tension surge. The more trivial topics have been already mentioned and moved past. Now it was the time for big guns. For another clash of the titans. 

“Precisely,” Neil jumped at the chance and spoke “The elephant in the room is rather obvious” his eyes scanned the space with a predatory gleam, settling on you, “I mean, look at her… she’s barely staying quiet,” a mocking smirk to compliment the statement.

Presumptuous fuck. Despite the anger reaching a boiling point in your veins, you refused to give him the satisfaction. To show how much it hurt.

“Her?” arching your eyebrow, you met his gaze defiantly “Neil, that’s a low blow. Even for you” a passing flinch on his face giving the power to keep going “But yes, I’d love to know whether you’ve changed your mind regarding some important matters” you addressed the room at large, searching for support.

That concerned look Wheeler shot you was helpful. As was the way TP hunched in the chair, burdened with terrifying possibilities of Neil’s stubbornness. Maybe you won’t have to be alone in this.

“I’m going in,” the blonde man shrugged nonchalantly, staring you down, “The only thing you can do is help us plan how to make it work,”

The strategy was to alienate you. Make it sound like you were the only one protesting against his idiotic plan. Well, not on your watch. Now was the time to put all those sleepless nights to use.

“How to make what work? Your suicide?” you scoffed, taking pleasure in how he frowned at the word, “If you let me speak for once, I’ve got an idea” finishing the lukewarm coffee, you gathered needed strength.

“Go ahead, sunshine,” a sarcastic half-smile, begging to be wiped off his face with a slap.

Maybe another time.

“What if two people went first to take care of the lock?” your voice cut through the tension permeating the room, “You rarely send anyone out without a cover. Because it’s unreasonable. So why this time it should be different?” that was logical.

The most sensible of plans you could come up with. Two on the splinter unit; two to deal with the lock. More likely to find an exit or, simply, survive whatever was waiting by the dead-drop. You also had ideas when it came to who should accompany Neil. But those were best kept a secret.

“Because losing two is worse than one. Even you can do the maths” the unnecessary dig made you roll your eyes.

He was ridiculous. In moments like this, you wished you had never fallen for him. But there was no point in crying over the spilt milk.

“Two have greater chances of survival,” you counterattacked, stating the obvious.

The truth he was so gladly ignoring for his purposes.

“You’ve got a point,” Wheeler chimed in, making you both turn to her.

“Thanks,” you offered the brightest grin you could muster and searched for more backing on the faces of the fellow companions.

Before you could analyse the grave expressions on TP and Ives’s faces, Neil spoke up again:

“You’re also rather emotional…” another insult.

Fuck. It was getting increasingly hard to stay calm. But that was the only thing to do. Another scene before the whole team was certainly not desired. You took a deep breath, fighting to maintain composure.

“Neil, stop” Ives was your saviour of the hour, interrupting with the non-bullshit attitude, “I think this idea is worth going over. It’s not like we’ve got anything better,”

You vowed to send Ives a bouquet of roses if you were still alive after all this. Or better, take him out to a pub. Nothing was settled upon during that meeting. The chaos of you all trying to convince Neil to listen to your arguments was only interrupted with him throwing more offences at you. Apart from emotional, you learned you were also delusional. And a potential loose cannon that was best kept away from making crucial decisions. You debated putting all of those on your CV and asking him to provide the references. After all, Neil was the expert when it came to your skillset. After half hour of barely held-together discussion, Ives told you all to calm down and fuck off for the time being. At least until you could decide on something without jumping to your throats. You doubted that was even possible. You were resolved to drive your plan forward. And so was Neil.

When the meeting was over, you were the first one to leave, hoping to slip out before anyone could stop you. You made it as far as the corridor leading to the bridge when you felt someone grab your arm, making you turn around. Of course. Neil’s steel-blue eyes were staring at you coldly. He was getting ready to attack, and you did not want to let him. Before either of you could break the silence, someone stopped in the corridor, and the familiar voice spoke:

“You two should fuck each other already,” you scowled at Ives’s choice of words, “Or break-up. I don’t care, only don’t do this again” he gave you a long taxing look, with annoyance brewing underneath.

You could not blame him. Only that kind of comment was too much right now. With cheeks burning, you desperately searched for words. Neil found them for you:

“We’re not together” dead simple with a tinge of anger to it.

You took a look at Neil, noticing the frown set on his face. And the fact that he was still holding on to you. Fingers wrapped around your bicep, just enough force to make it seem questionable.

“Could’ve fooled me” the squad leader shrugged and walked off before either of you could react.

Great start. Yanking your arm free, you asked:

“What do you want?” you made sure to make him hear the irritation.

That was against the plan, and you doubted your ability to survive yet another confrontation. From the look in his eyes, you could also guess where this was going.

“I know what you’re doing. All I’ve got to say is don’t,” Neil stared you down, keen on intimidation, “I won’t let it happen” no room for discussion there.

Well, maybe with any other idiot. You knew it would come to it. The moment when you would have to admit that your plan involved going with Neil. And there would be no debate about it. It had to be you. Reasons? Inexplicable.

“Tough luck because I’m not letting you get killed,” you counterattacked, meeting his intense gaze without reluctance, “Or go in there alone,” a pointed emphasis, to show him you meant it.

You felt like you could win this one. Maybe even walk away without the tears in your eyes. Just this once. But then Neil did what he does best – changed the topic.

“If this is about what happened-” he reached out to you again, fingers curling around your wrist.

There we go. You were surprised it took him that long to mention the previous afternoon. His touch and the bruises were hard to forget, but so was the lack of affection in his eyes. As though you were just another hook-up. Someone to seduce, get pleasure from, and then leave without a word of explanation. Nothing more. You deserved better than this. With heart hammering in your chest, you responded:

“Not everything is about you trying to fuck me, Neil,” it was his turn to scowl, as though the words have hurt him.

It was only fair.

“Who said-” his grip on your wrist tightened, drawing you closer.

But that alone was not enough to distract you from the denial he tried to pass as the truth.

“Please,” you gave him a pointed look, “That was a mistake, and it’s best treated like one” swallowing down the discomfort, you let the statement fall between you.

You wanted nothing but to forget about it. Brush it under the carpet. The marks were enough of a punishment for a moment of weakness. Neil seemed to consider something quickly, weighting the options, before he nodded:

“Of course,” the formality had the potential to drive you mad, “I’m glad we seem to agree on something,”

For a second, you contemplated leaving the scene. You knew he would not follow, too caught up in the grudges and apprehensions to stop you from escaping. But you wanted to have the last word. To put to use the ability to see right through his act. Neil was staring at you with eyes narrowed, trying to anticipate the very next move. You were sure to surprise him.

“Think I have figured it out though,” he arched his eyebrow in a silent question “Why you’re so keen on doing something that stupid” his face fell, you took a step forward “It’s that hero complex, hidden under honourable acts and philosophical bullshit” pulling your hand out of his hold, you advanced to intimidate, “You think you’re past redemption. That you don’t deserve it. But you can’t give up until you save everybody else. That’s just who you are” the sheer panic in his eyes was fascinating “Only there’s me. An obstruction” Neil swallowed hard as you laid your hand on his shoulder; nearly there, “And you might not love me, but it still doesn’t mean I can let you do it” you gave him a final sad smile, brushing away a stray hair from his pullover.

Yours, judging by the length and colour. A quirk of fate. You were too busy contemplating the fact to notice a shift in his eyes. Denial. Disbelief. Darkness.

“My god… you’re so stupid” the sharp edge to his voice was dripping with venom, “How can you not see it?” Neil was looking at you as though you were an idiot.

Wow. Fighting the urge to breakdown, you took a deep breath. You should have known he had not had enough of hurting you. Always naïve.

“… thanks,” you chuckled dryly, holding on to the remains of anger in your system, “First ‘emotional and delusional’. Now this… you’re expanding your vocabulary” his silence was deafening, “I wonder what will be next… expletives?” the next statement came from the depths of your heart “It would be much easier to just admit that you hate me, and we could be done with this”

That childlike belief in the existence of love wanted him to say no. To deny that he could ever despise you in any way. But the innocence had to be buried if you were to survive.

“I’ll consider that” the cold calculation in Neil’s eyes was terrifying. It was truly over. Even if your heart felt like it was being ripped out. The edges of your vision were blurring, eyes burning with tears begging to be released. Not yet.

“Fab,” you brushed away the strand that was falling into his eyes, “As a final note… I admit that the worst mistake I have ever made was allowing myself to believe you’re worth it”

It was not exactly the truth. But the tiniest moment of passing shock in his eyes was a good enough response. For a second, Neil was speechless, stunned by your harsh words and the way you caressed his face. One last guilty pleasure.

“I’m glad you’re acknowledging it” his face split in an attempt at a smile.

It was broken. Dishonest. There was something fascinating in him at that very moment. The set jaw, eyes cold as ice; yours, but not at all. The beautiful and damned. Gently, you ran your fingers over his stubble, hoping to memorise his face in every way possible. The intensity of his gaze was beginning to drive you insane, offering eternal suffering if you were to make the smallest mistake. Never again.

“The cruelty looks good on you” you zipped up his pullover in one smooth motion and turned away.

The searing pain in your chest was the needed punchline.