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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

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The Pact - Date #6

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 5.7k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: reader is confused about feelings, so that’s frustrating lol. the boys are annoyingly perfect as per usual. other than that, fluffy as always.

a/n: HAHA. well, ngl, this date came for me. pls nobody kill me after reading this lol. as always, your feedback is encouraged and GREATLY appreciated. please let me know your thoughts! also, we are getting down to it! only one more date to go!! so exciting!

also, an official copy of the Pact will be up on Wednesday! so you’ll get two updates next week!! enjoy!

Date #6

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You’ve been staring at this thing for way too long.

You can already feel the hint of a headache creeping behind your eyes, and it’s enough to have you setting the copy of The Pact that you stole from Jin down on the coffee table. Groaning as you clamber to your feet, you take a long moment to stretch and fight off the exhaustion that’s attempting to settle over you.

Tired mind somehow managing to continue limping on in its endless speculation, you yourself limp over to the kitchen. Staring at the kitchen sink with a few dirty dishes waiting, you consider splashing some water on your face.

Glancing up at your reflection in the window that’s just above the sink, you decide against it. Not when you’ve just managed to get completely ready for this date.

Your date should be here in about an hour, leaving you with too much time to sit and think. With a sigh, you begin to fill up one side of the sink with hot soapy water, deciding to do something productive with your time while you wait.

The soap bubbles that grow before your eyes has your mind wandering off again. This time, it’s remembering last week and a similar soapy view. However, you’d been side by side with Seokjin. And that song had been playing in the background…

“What are you daydreaming about?”

You shriek, dropping a plate in the sink and facing the onslaught of sloshing dishwater and stray soap bubbles.

Jeon Jungkook resembles a caught crook outside the kitchen window. You consider breaking a plate over his head, especially as his typical wide eyed gaze has been replaced with a knowing smirk.

“Just thinking about throwing something at your head,” you sigh. Pulling the plug on the drain, you watch as the soapy water disappears. Hopefully it takes any evidence of your thoughts with it, but you have a feeling that your reddened cheeks have already given you away. “Why are you creeping outside my window?”

Jungkook’s golden laughter makes the corners of your mouth turn up. “Ah, I tried to knock. I don’t think you heard me, though.”

You blink. “Oh.” Has it already been an hour?

Did you just spend an hour washing the same plate while daydreaming?

“Oh is right. Now, are you gonna let me in?”

Wiping your hands on a dish towel, it’s one with stitched stars on it that Yoongi gifted you a couple of years ago, you hurry over to open the door. The second you do, Jungkook is stepping inside and locking you in a bear hug. Your squeal is muffled as you’re buried in his embrace, but you can’t quite find it in yourself to complain.

He smells like vanilla.

“Happy Saturday,” you stammer out. From where your head is pressed up against Jungkook’s chest, you can hear how his heart is hammering against his ribs.

Taking a step back to see what’s wrong, you frown as he looks at you with a fairly calm expression. There’s a hint of nervousness in his eyes which you’re sure is mirrored in your own.

“Happy Saturday to you, too. Ready?”

No, not really. Not since you’ve been planted at the sink, little beads of sweat forming due to the steaming water.

“Give me five minutes to freshen up?” You ask with an apologetic smile. Jungkook waves you off, pulling up the sleeves of his black, long-sleeve shirt and heading toward the kitchen.

“Sure, take your time. We don’t have a strict schedule tonight.”

Without waiting to see what he intends to do in your kitchen (pilfer snacks being the most likely course of action), you hurry to your bedroom.

There are hints of them everywhere you look.

One of the flowers from Jin’s bouquet is hanging upside down to dry above your dresser. You felt a bit like a teen doing that, but a small piece of you wanted to keep some sort of memory of last week’s date.

Jimin’s music box sits beside the books you bought with Namjoon. You’ve found that listening to the music box while reading is quickly becoming a habit of yours.

Of course, that means you snack on the walnuts that Taehyung left for you while reading. You hadn’t even realized that he left them until this past week. They’d been hiding in your cupboard, and you’d taken quite a liking to them. Either that, or the small sticky note that was attached to the bag.

A single heart traced in bold lines and scribbles.

Slipping on Hobi’s bracelet has become like second nature, making you smile as you twist it around the face the right way.

“Ok,” you breathe out with a glance toward the mirror. You smooth out your hair, straightening your blouse and black jeans. “Here we go.”

Of course, you can’t forget the biggest reminder of the boys.

The copy of the pact that you stole from Jin last week, currently atop your dresser-

“Oh no,” you breathe out as soon as you remember that the pact is not where it’s supposed to be.

You’d taken it out earlier for some light perusing, and had left it out on the coffee table. As far as you knew, none of the boys were aware of your thievery. Yet.

Sneaking out of your room and tiptoeing down the hall, you hear Jungkook humming to himself in the kitchen. Trying to remain as quiet as possible, you make a beeline for the front room.

You let out a sigh of relief when the pact is still undisturbed on the table. Swooping down to grab it, you turn on your heel and-

“AH!!!”

“Ah!” Jungkook yells back, towering over you.

“Why would you-” you hit one shoulder “sneak up-” you assault the other “on me like that?!”

Jungkook grabs your wrist, nose scrunching up as he looks at you like you’re some sweet woodland animal and not a crazy woman.

“Why so jumpy today?” He croons, doing his best to get under your skin. Then he frowns, releasing your wrist in exchange for stepping a little closer. “Is everything ok?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, gripping the pact in your free hand behind your back. “I just have to put something away and then we’re good to go, ok?”

He assesses you for another minute before stepping aside. “Sounds good.”

Rushing to your room and closing the door, you rest against it for a moment and close your eyes. So far, so good. Right?

Stuffing the pact into a drawer in your dresser, you grab your things and double check yourself in the mirror.

Why are you so jumpy today?

Perhaps the fact that all of this is coming to an end very soon is what has you on edge. The fact that Jungkook is here means that there’s only one date left.

And then what?

It’s a question you don’t know how to answer. And yet, you’re the only one that can.

Taking a steadying breath, you salute your reflection and head out.

Jungkook waits for you by the door, looking…well, looking like Jungkook. Black shirt, drawstring army green pants, thick boots. His hair looks a little windblown, which you know has become a recent sort of addiction for him. The thought of him driving with the windows down makes you grin. No doubt he looked like some sort of excited puppy with his hair flying in the wind.

Jungkook, unaware of you train of thought, just grins back.

“You look great,” he mumbles out, a tinge of pink giving him away. For all of your antics that you have a tendency to get into, you sometimes forget that Jungkook is one of the shyest out of all the boys.

“So do you,” you respond. Turning before you can spot the smile on his face, Jungkook opens up the door and escorts you outside. “What’s on the agenda for tonight?”

“Well, that depends,” Jungkook skips down the steps, shoving his hands in his pockets. He reaches the car before you, pulling the passenger side door open. “What do you wanna do?”

You pause before sliding into the car, noting that it’s the same one you took with Namjoon. It’s an SUV, much more spacious than the smaller cars you drove in with Hobi or Tae. “What do you mean?”

Shrugging, Jungkook heads over to the other side of the car before hopping in. You finally get in as well, looking at the boy quizzically. He fiddles with the keys, glancing over at you before resting his hands atop the steering wheel.

“This is your sixth date,” he muses. “I figured that this might be nice, for a change. You say the word, and I’ll take you wherever you wanna go. We have…” he squint at the clock, which reads seven o’clock. “Approximately five hours.”

“Huh.” You lean back against your seat, staring out at the road with a dumbfounded expression. “Really? Did you just not plan anything?”

Jungkook looks offended. “Of course I did! I have a backup plan if you can’t come up with anything. I don’t know…I just thought it might be nice. Let’s go do whatever you want.”

The gears in your mind begin to turn and you’re half tempted to just go with whatever Jungkook has as his backup plan, until you remember something.

“You mean it?” You ask, wiggling your brows at Jungkook. “Whatever I want?”

Jungkook stares in disbelief at the rundown building, a smile fighting its way onto his cheeks. “This? This is what you wanted?”

He must have thought that you’d choose something a bit more daring than this. However, you nod happily, slipping out of your seat and wandering over to his side of the car. He still remains inside, looking at the building with absolute confusion. With a sly grin, you open up his door and gesture for him to exit.

“C’mon, let’s eat.”

Together you make your way inside the open air restaurant, taking in the sight and smells. You wave at the worker behind the front counter, who grins and waves back at you.

Taking a seat in the far corner at a plastic chair and table, you can’t help but laugh at the awestruck expression on Jungkook’s face. The lighting inside is poor, it doesn’t quite reach your corner of the room. However, just enough of it reaches Jungkook to highlight the shadows on his face and occasionally catch on his eyes.

“This place has the best lamb skewers,” you explain. “I haven’t come out in a long time.”

Jungkook’s expression melts into one of adoration as he looks at you, and you wonder if he realizes it. “I love lamb skewers.”

“I know.”

When you’re ready, you call out your order to a passing worker. They nod, rushing to the back to pass it on. A few people are scattered throughout the restaurant, most of which are too enraptured by their food or their friends to pay any attention to you two. Jungkook blends right in, except for his giant boots that set him apart. Hopefully nobody will pay them any mind.

Settled across the table from Jungkook, you let out a sigh of relief.

“What?” Jungkook immediately asks, ever the intuitive one. “Are you sure everything’s alright? Maybe I should’ve come up with something fun to do instead of make you choose-”

You hold up a hand, waving him off. “No, I’m happy. This is…nice.”

Jungkook blinks, and suddenly you’re reminded of a date you went on in middle school. He somehow manages to revive those same butterflies when he looks at you like that.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you reassure. “Although I am a little surprised that you aren’t the final date. Didn’t you decide the order?”

“Ah,” Jungkook leans back, forgetting that he’s sitting on a stool. He nearly topples over, making you lurch forward and grab his hand. “Uh, thank you,” he mutters as he sits up straight.

“Careful,” you quietly chide, going to sit back down. You attempt to take your hand out of his grasp, but Jungkook latches on. Intertwining his fingers through yours, he gives you a soft smile which has you relaxing in his grasp.

Resting your hands in the center of the table, Jungkook speaks up again. “Anyways, yeah. The order. I was planning on going last, but then the thing that Yoongi has planned didn’t work out for any other weekend. So we swapped.” He takes up tracing the outline of your knuckles, resting his chin in the palm of his free hand.

“I see.” The way that the shadows are playing with Jungkook’s features has you remembering a different time when you two were stuck a in dark room. “So…uh…” you try to come up with something else to say in order to fight off the memory of Jungkook’s arms around you.

You suppose that’s when it all started. And that’s traitorous question which had popped up into your mind in the haunted house, when you wondered if Jungkook was about to kiss you.

And you wondered if you’d let him.

Sitting across from him now and seeing how his eyes widen with excitement as your food is placed before you, you try and fail to fight off a similar question. One that’s been plaguing you for weeks now.

“These’re ‘mazing,” Jungkook coos as he takes another bite of the lamb skewer. “Why haven’t you told me about this place before?”

Chuckling at his reaction, you grab his wrist and angle the skewer toward you. Leaning forward, you take a bite of the food and watch as Jungkook visibly swallows.

You shrug. “It didn’t seem like something worth sharing at the time.”

“Mmm,” Jungkook appears to be scolding you, but the words aren’t quite coming out as food keeps going in. “Mm-mmhmm.”

You burst out laughing at his impressive performance, leaning back and-

Thwack!

Stool slipping out from under you, you collapse onto the ground in a fit of laughter. Jungkook throws his food down, jumping up to his feet and looking concerned until he sees that you’re still laughing. Shaking his head, he extends his hand and helps you back to your feet.

“It’s gonna be a miracle if we make it out of this place without a concussion.”

You wipe fake tears from your eyes, settling back down on your chair. “Promise me you’ll pay for my hospital bills?”

“I’ll consider it.”

When you gasp in offense, he points to the food. “Hey! It’s not my fault that you were keeping vital information from me! That really threw a wrench in my trust for you!”

“This is what you consider vital information?”

“Hey, don’t judge me.”

“I’m just saying…it’s a little concerning.”

“Don’t we tell each other everything?” Jungkook shoots back with pleading eyes. To an outsider, it looks like a typical lover’s quarrel. Little do they know, you’re bickering about lamb skewers.

You shoot him a pointed look. “Oh-ho, you really wanna talk about sharing everything? Need I mention a certain pact-”

“No, you do not.”

“Hmph.” You cross your arms. “That’s what I thought.”

“In my defense, I did tell you. Eventually.” From the way he begins chewing on his lips you can tell that he’s remembering the circumstances in which he told you about the pact.

However, it’s the way his eyes dart down to your mouth that have you recalling a feeling of unfinished business with Jungkook. You’re not quite sure what it is, but it’s there.

“After two years.”

He points a finger at you. “Hey, two and a half- oh, wait.”

“That didn’t help.”

“No yeah, I see that now.”

You snort, grabbing some food. It’s all too easy to slip back into your familiar banter with Jungkook. You’ve missed it.

Jungkook looks a little lost in his thoughts as he munches on his lamb skewer, a pout forming on his face. You nudge his knee under the table, shooting him a questioning look.

“What’s up?” You ask quietly.

He resumes chewing on the inside of his cheek, staring down at his food like he’s about to interrogate it. “Do you regret it?”

You’re not exactly sure what he’s referring to, but either way it leaves a knot in your stomach. “Regret what, Guk?”

Jungkook shrugs, his pout only growing. “Finding out about it? Agreeing to all this?”

Setting your food down, you ponder for a moment over the past six weeks. Perhaps a small part of you does regret knowing. However, it’s more for the fact that you know things can’t return to normal. Not after all you’ve experienced. Not after the way certain people have managed to lodge themselves into your heart more than you’d care to imagine.

“This,” you begin, and without thought you find yourself reaching across the table for Jungkook’s hand. He reads your thoughts, meeting you halfway. “Is the most terrifying thing I think I’ve ever done. It’s weird, and new, and frightening.”

Jungkook nods, seeming to have expected this. Before he can come to some silent understanding within his mind, you continue on.

“But I wouldn’t change it for the world. These last six weeks have been…” you shake your head, struggling to find the words.

How do you put this into words? Those small moments between breaths, the way you felt from the way some of the boys looked at you. How do you explain that you have never before felt so loved in your life? That despite the worries and improbability of it all, you would never change it for the world?

“…perfect.”

Blinking up at you, Jungkook looks a little shocked. “Perfect?”

“I’m glad you told me,” you admit, voice coming out a nothing more than a whisper. “I hope you don’t regret it.”

Jungkook’s eyes trail down to where your hands are interlocked. “I’m glad I told you, too.”

You feel so warm, sitting here. The food is half gone, the restaurant is loud and busy. Jungkook keeps one hand in yours as he takes up his skewer again, making sure to give you a bite every once in a while.

You’re so caught up in your thoughts that you don’t notice the rain that begins to fall. It drizzles at first, however when a clash of lightning strikes, you jolt. Jungkook squeezes your hand.

“Eat up,” he mumbles. “What do you wanna do after this?”

The rainfall seems to quell your thoughts, finally silencing them as you focus entirely on Jungkook. “I’m not sure…how about you choose? I already chose the food.”

Jungkook harrumphs his agreement, jumping up to go pay while you finish off the remaining food. It’s utterly delicious, even more so than you remember. Truly, your love of food knows no bounds.

You snort at yourself, probably looking like an idiot but enjoying your own company. Jungkook wanders back over, a half-smile already on his face at your state.

“What’s so funny?”

You shake your head, pointing to the platters of food. “I swear, I’m just using you guys so I can eat whatever I want. It’s amazing.”

Jungkook lets out a startled laugh. “I can’t believe you. Using us like that.” There’s no bite in his words, which only makes it all so much better. “C’mon, we’ll have to hurry to the car. It’s pouring out there.”

Indeed it is. Together the two of you sprint toward the car, cursing the fact that you didn’t have to foresight to at least bring a jacket. Instead you fend off the rain by throwing your hands over your head, heart melting a bit when you feel Jungkook trying his best to lean over you to take the brunt of the attack.

Once you’ve leapt inside the car it’s only a matter of seconds before Jungkook is on the other side. He shakes out his hair as he starts up the car, making you shout in protest.

Naturally, he does it a bit more.

“Yah!” You shout. “I surrender!”

This seems to sate him, making him smile at you mischievously. “Good.” Pulling out onto the road, he takes off toward an unknown destination. “Sit tight, we’ll be there in a bit.”

It doesn’t take long to get there. It’s a little difficult to tell where you are exactly due to the heavy rain, but you can just make out a pond and grove of trees beyond the downpour.

“Stay right here,” Jungkook instructs before diving out of the car.

Like, literally dives. You’re fairly certain he goes headfirst, making you burst out into peals of laughter. He reappears a second later, already drenched while he begins to lay the seats down. You’re dying to ask what he’s doing, but you’re not sure if he would be able to hear you as heavy raindrops thud against the roof.

Once he’s managed to get all of the seats down, he makes his way to the trunk. He glances up to where you watch from the front seat, a look of determination shining in his eyes.

“Close your eyes,” he orders. It’s hard to hear him, but it’s easy enough to read his lips. They’re glistening with raindrops, which he hasn’t bothered to lick off yet-

Er, it’s not like you were staring. Nah. No. Nothing like that. Just happened to notice them.

Yeah. That’s what it was.

Despite your curiosity, you turn around to face the front and close your eyes. It’s hard to tell what’s going on behind you, but you occasionally catch the sound of Jungkook crawling around.

It feels like an eternity later when Jungkook opens up your door, making you jump at the sudden onslaught of rain. He grins at you from behind his soaked hair, extending his hand.

“Hurry!”

Jumping out of the car, you chase after Jungkook who keeps a firm grip on your hand. He leads you around to the back of the car, where he hurries to open up the trunk.

You hardly have time to take in the sight the unfolds before your eyes before Jungkook wrapping his hands around your waist and hoisting you into the car. You push your hair out of your eyes, about to crawl forward when a hand on your ankle stops you.

“Shoes!” Jungkook shouts, apparently past the point of speaking in full sentences. Turning around to sit down properly, you get to work on one of your sneakers while Jungkook takes the other. Once they’re off, you crawl up to the front to toss them onto the floor.

Once they’re safely stowed away, you turn around and take a look at the back of the car.

Somehow, in the span of just a couple of minutes, Jungkook has transformed the back of the car into an impromptu paradise.

As he clambers in and brushes past you to toss his shoes up front, you gape. A couple of pillows are propped up on the edges of the car, looking like clouds amidst the sea of the comforter. The blanket itself is soft to the touch, and you spot another blanket folded in the corner. Hanging from the latches on the ceiling are battery powered string lights, dowsing you in a fairy-like dreamland.

The hatch remains open, providing a breathtaking view. Sure enough, there’s a pond. Just beyond the bond stands a grove of tall trees, hardly wavering in the rain. The entire view is nothing short of ethereal. It’s enough to leave you wondering for a moment if you’ve unintentionally wandered into some strange remake of A Midsummer Night’s Dream because you’ve become that there’s no way magic doesn’t exist.

And there’s Jungkook, sitting across from you with a timid smile while he delves into one of his many pockets in his cargo pants. A second later he produces a deck of cards, tossing them between you where they land softly on the thick comforter.

“This,” he says a touch breathlessly, “was my backup plan.”

There are no words left in your brain to describe this moment. The way water droplets drip from the long strands of Jungkook’s hair has you mesmerized, and you force yourself to reach out for that deck of cards and slide them from the box.

“This,” you stammer out, “is the best backup plan ever.”

Jungkook is radiant as his smile grows, nose scrunching up and a soft chuckle leaving those lips. “Thanks.”

You’re not sure how long you’re in the back of the car, playing Egyptian Ratscrew until tears are running from your eyes as you laugh and squeal. Jungkook inevitably wins, probably due to your vision being impaired by said tears. Eventually you decline a 33rd round (he says that it’s only the eleventh but your throbbing hands say it’s definitely the 33rd) in favor of laying out and watching the rain.

Jungkook joins you where you sprawl out on your stomach, watching the ripples in the pond as the rain continues. It’s let up a bit more now, but the sound of rain on the roof is enough to lull you into a tired trance.

Leaning into your side, Jungkook loops his arm through yours until his hand is resting on your own. You automatically rest your head against his shoulder, letting out a content sigh.

“Your hands are so red,” Jungkook whispers. You snort, examining your abused hands.

“Yeah, I told you that you slap hard,” you whisper back furiously. Jungkook chuckles, making you shake along with him.

“Don’t act all innocent. You about killed me,” he replies, showing off his reddened hands. “I forgot how brutal that game is.”

“Me too. But it’s so fun.”

“Mmm.”

“I mean, when else do I get a free pass to slap you?”

Now Jungkook laughs in earnest, the sound going straight to your heart. “You’re ruthless.”

“Hey, you’re the one that has a thing for ruthless women.”

“Touché.”

Soon the rhythm of the rain fades into the background as Jungkook takes up a melody, humming softly. Your eyes drift shut, taking in the sound.

It would be so easy to stay here forever. The blanket is so soft, Jungkook is so sweet, the view so perfect.

Your lips form the words before you completely comprehend what’s going on. “…wanna stay here.”

“Hmm?” Jungkook asks, his voice coming from above you. He shifts, arm resting along your back and wrapping around your waist. “What’d you say, jagiya?”

“I wanna stay.”

“We can stay a little longer,” he reassures gently. You shake your head, nuzzling deeper into his side.

“Forever, though.”

“You wanna stay forever?”

“Mhmm.”

Jungkook brushes a hand through your hair before running a finger along your jawline. “Back here, with me? And the blankets?”

You hum in agreement. “And the lights and the rain.”

He lets out a breathy laugh. “It can’t rain forever, jagiya.”

“Why not?” Your brain isn’t completely coherent at the moment, but you don’t try to stop it.

“We’d float away.”

“Oh.”

“Ok?”

“Mm.”

Eventually the rain turns into a light drizzle and Jungkook deems it time to head back. It’s already late, but you find yourself wanting to bask in the soft glow that the string lights provide for just a moment longer.

Jungkook reassures you that he won’t put the seats back up yet, but that you need to head up front. Getting up and moving seems to kickstart your brain, and you’re much more awake when you settle into the front seat.

The two of you settle into a comfortable silence, the radio quietly singing. You two sing along, and you stare out the window as you drive down the streets of Itaewon. You pass the spot you ate earlier, making you smile.

All too soon, you’re turning onto your street. It’s enough to make you attempt sinking through the seat, but Jungkook parks the car and comes around to your side.

“Welcome home,” he mumbles as you slide out of the car. You turn your face up to the sky, allowing the light rain to wake you up a bit more.

“Thank you.”

Jungkook takes your hand in his as you head up the stairs to your apartment, and you wonder for a moment if that’s your racing pulse you feel or his own. It’s that question that has you racing back to reality.

The doorstep.

You reach your door, turning to face Jungkook. You haven’t even tried getting your keys out yet, the thought hasn’t crossed your mind. Instead, you stare up at Jungkook only to find him chewing on the inside of his cheek and staring down at the ground. He massages the back of his neck, looking for all the world like he’s forgotten how to speak.

“Thank you,” you repeat for the second time in less than a minute. “I really enjoyed it, Jungkook. I…” your words trail off as Jungkook takes a step forward, hands reaching around you to wrap around the railing of your porch.

“Do you ever wonder what might have happened…” Jungkook’s eyes snap up to yours, and they betray his next words as they drift to your lips. “If I had kissed you that night?”

A sound comes out of your throat, however you’re not sure if it was a half-formed word or simply a reaction to the way Jungkook nibbles on his bottom lip as he tilts his head to one side.

He takes another micro-step, effectively trapping you between him and the wrought iron railing. “Because I do. Every day.”

Again, that question comes flying back from the catacombs of your memory. Right now, you wonder if he’ll kiss you.

You wonder if you’d let him.

The fact that this question has been on your mind for so long makes you realize the answer to his question.

You’re not sure how you manage to speak as you feel Jungkook’s hands slide onto your waist, but you do. “Y-yes. I do.” Taking a deep breath you utter out, “Of course I do.”

Another step, a bit of rain slipping down the bridge of his nose. He looks like he’s stopped breathing, but you wonder if that’s only because you’re holding your breath.

He’s leaning down, eyes so focused on yours that you feel as though your soul has been laid out before him. Finally, once he’s mere millimeters away, he takes a shaky breath.

“Just once.”

You wonder if it was meant more for himself than for you, but you don’t have time to entertain the thought for long before he’s pressing forward.

The first touch of his lips against yours reminds you of the paradise you were in just minutes ago. His lips are soft – so soft – against yours, reminding you of resting on a cloud. His lips are hesitant, so unlike the iron-like grip he has on your hips.

Some part of your brain is screaming at you, although you’re unsure of why. What could the consequences of such a beautiful action be?

It’s beautiful enough to make you frown when Jungkook pulls away, the raindrops on his lips long gone as you taste them on your lips. He looks down at you sheepishly, taking a single step back.

“I- I…” he chokes the words out, looking like there might be an internal war going on in his head as well. For a moment, he wins. “One more,” he whispers, the words almost lost to the soft pitter patter of the rain.

He’s much faster this time, throwing caution to the wind as he closes in on you. One hand tangles itself in your hair, the other caressing your cheek as you sigh against his mouth. The kiss is a little sloppy, the force of it nearly making you stumble backward. You cling to his shirt in an effort to remain upright, attempting to somehow crawl closer despite your already close proximity.

One more quickly turns into two, then three. All you know is the feel of his lips against yours and the rain gently falling, having lost count a while ago.

Everything is Jungkook, Jungkook-

Completely unbidden, someone else floats into your train of thought.

You gasp as your thoughts take an unexpected turn, eyes flying open. The sight before you completely wrecks you.

Jungkook leans forward once more, hair a mess and cheeks rosy pink. There’s a dazed look in his eyes, and you realize that he must have assumed you just needed to breathe before falling into you again.

He leans in, quick to turn your thoughts toward him again. Soon it’s him, all him in your head.

And yet-

You stumble back as though struck by lightning, then jump in earnest as lightning does strike. Jungkook stares at you, but for a brief moment as his features are lit up by the lightning, all you can see is him.

What does that even mean?

“I- uh…” you’re practically panting, fighting with all you have to not reach out for Jungkook as he takes a step back. His eyes clear a bit, and you can already see the guilt festering in his eyes. You attempt a joke. “Aren’t you breaking rule #5?”

Jungkook blinks at you. “What? I…that was…a lot. I’m so sorry…rule five? What?”

“You know…the pact, rule five-” you throw a hand over your mouth, realizing that you may have said too much.

“How do you know that’s rule #5?” Jungkook asks, but you’re already pushing him off your porch and fumbling for your keys. “Wait, have you read-”

“Thanks again, Jungkook!” You shout over your shoulder, throwing your front door open. “And, er, I liked kissing you- wait, that’s not normal-”

Jungkook laughs, although still looking concerned. He frowns, and you do your best to avoid noting just how much pinker his lips look now. “I hope you’re ok-”

“Great! I’m great!”

You’re not. You’re a little frantic at the moment, but great.

With that, Jungkook waves goodbye and turns away, bidding you goodnight.

It’s a long time before you move out of the front room. Instead, you take up camp on your couch, staring off into the distance. Replaying, rewinding, reliving what just happened.

In the end, you’re more confused than when you began.

main masterlist

please let me know what your thoughts are! You don’t necessarily have to be rooting for one of the boys specifically, but let me know who you think has the best shot/who you really swooned over! ;) and yes, it’s ok to be confused. like, what the freak just happened. *nervous laughter*

I’ll see you guys WEDNESDAY with a copy of the pact for you to read as well as next Saturday for our final date! thank you for reading!

taglist is open, click on the link at the top of the post or let me know if you’d like to join!

taglist: @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine @hqtetsurou@protontippens @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton@thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797 @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall @miriamxsworld @kayahay @delacyrose224 @luvtaeha @fanfictionreader05 @oknymz @dreadity @starlight-night0 @luzaroon @seaoffangirling @prachi05 @fangirl125reader @bluehairedotakugem @hunnibxbe @kayahay @fanfictionreader05 @seokjinmoonfics @littletinyhobi @honeyhalcyon @yoontaethings @herrmionejgranger @beepbeep11 @extraordinary_reads @hitsussi

#bts ot7 x reader #bts dating au #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts as your best friends #jimin x y/n #hobi x y/n #namjoon x y/n #suga x y/n #jin x y/n #taehyung x y/n #tae x y/n #bts x y/n #yoongi x y/n #bts fanfic

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heyitssmiller · 3 years

Text

Bewitched, Body and Soul

So... this happened. Blame the Discord. Basically, the premise is receiving a note from a stranger about having similar tastes in books, and my first thought was Finn/Leo. And now, around 24 hours later, this showed up in my word document. Hope y’all like it!! And don’t worry, I’ve already got a sequel planned with Logan ;)

All characters, of course, belong to the wonderful @lumosinlove

And, if you’re so inclined, check out my Masterlist if you enjoy this story! <3

CW: food/drink

Leo loved this bookstore. There was a west-facing windowfront that allowed all sorts of afternoon light to shine through, creating a large, warm sunspot right in Leo’s favorite armchair. The shelves were always neatly organized by category, there was a featured book of the week, and there was a coffee shop sequestered to one corner of the building. What else did he need in life? He’d spent countless hours here, sitting with a new book and a cup of coffee or tea and getting lost in whatever world he’d been transported to within the crisp pages and black ink. Being new to the city, there were probably better ways to make friends, but there was something so soothing, so comfortingly familiar about shutting off the worry in his mind and just focusing on the story unfolding in his hands.

But when his stomach growled loudly in protest, he figured he needed to put reading on hold.

There was a wrinkled, jagged-edged scrap of paper sitting on top of Leo’s book when he returned to his table, café pastry in hand. It hadn’t been there a second ago. Curiously, Leo set his food down and inspected the foreign paper. Messy, inelegant scrawl slanted across the page in deep blue ink. The lines were uneven and chaotic; the i’s weren’t even dotted, almost as if it took too much effort to go back and add them in. Leo found it strangely endearing. It read:

Hi!

I don’t think we’ve met, but based on your choice of literature I think we would make great friends. :)

- Carrot Top

Leo smiled, read it again, and looked around for the person who sent it but no one acknowledged him, seemingly lost in stories of their own. So he sat there, a smile still on his face as he got back to his book, using the note as a bookmark.

~~~

Finn couldn’t help himself when, a few days later, he left another note after seeing the guy with good taste in books again at the bookstore. He was at what must have been his usual table, seemingly right where Finn had left him. The only difference besides the clothes he was wearing was the book he was reading. Finn let himself linger on his profile, just for a second – the gentle slope of his nose, the way his curls rested against his forehead, how bright blue eyes scanned the pages below him.

Finn wasn’t one for love at first sight; that was for romance novels only. But instant attraction? Oh yeah. He was definitely there.

He picked up a small flyer from the front desk, flipped it over, and began to write.

And maybe it wasn’t a good way of, as the kids said these days, “shooting his shot”. But it was a start. And it was fun – the thrill of trying not to get caught, the anonymity. Sure, one day he’d maybe get up the courage to talk to him in person, but he was happy with this for now.

Hmm… haven’t read that one. Might have to get myself a copy!

- The Walking Freckle

After dropping the note off while the blond walked off to take a phone call, Finn tried to act casual as he stared sightlessly down at his own book instead of over at the cute stranger like he desperately wanted to.

Don’t be suspicious, don’t be suspicious…

If he was being completely honest, he didn’t really know where to go from here. Did the blond think the notes were creepy? Or weird? He never seemed to mind much, but… well, a stranger was repeatedly leaving notes for him. What if it was making him uncomfortable? Would it make things better or worse if Finn introduced himself?

A snort came out, unbidden. Yeah. Right. That would go well. Finn could practically see it now: he would be clumsy and awkward, probably spilling coffee all over the guy’s book or – even worse – all over him. He’d scare him off for sure.

But at the same time, Finn wanted nothing more than to meet him. To sit down across the table from him and debate the points of the book he was reading, or give book recommendations, or just talk. About literally anything. Finn wasn’t a picky guy. He could sit there and let him speak for hours, absorbing any and all knowledge about him like a sponge. Did the corners of those bright, blue eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiled? Did his cheeks get all flushed when he was passionate about something, just like Finn’s? What was the story behind the soft-looking tuft of gray hair at his temple?

Who was he?

Finn was overflowing with questions, and desperate for the answers.

But he needed to go about this the right way, didn’t he? The last thing he wanted to do was screw this up. So he closed his book, propped his chin in his hand so that he could stare out the window, and started to plan.

~~~

The next note threw Leo for a bit of a loop. He’d saved his table with his coat thrown over one of the chairs and went up to the New Books section, surreptitiously keeping an eye on his table and hoping that he’d catch his note-sender red-handed.

Leo could’ve sworn that he’d looked away for half a second, but – well, he got distracted by a book, so it easily could’ve been five minutes for all he knew. This note was written on one of the café napkins, the ink bleeding through in some spots and a few small tears in the delicate material.

Nice choice! That book absolutely shattered my heart and then pieced it back together. The way she writes love lost just hurts so beautifully, doesn’t it?

I like your sweater by the way.

Fuck I hope that’s not creepy.

I’m not a stalker, I promise. I just think you’re really cute. And you have amazing taste in books. I’d like to learn more, if you’d let me. :)

But first, you have to figure out who I am! Good luck!

- Your Not-So-Secret Admirer in the Tortoiseshell Glasses

He smiled, wide and happy, and looked around for tortoiseshell glasses, red hair, and freckles. Those were the only three clues he had so far. So he quickly scanned the crowded café, looking for anyone who fit the description. The only one even close was a freckled, redheaded guy at the corner table, but no glasses.

That was a shame, too. He was stunning.

The mystery bibliophile must already be gone, then. Or hiding.

Looked like Leo had his work cut out for him. He did always like a challenge.

~~~

It probably wasn’t Finn’s best idea to take his glasses off. He couldn’t see a damn thing and was left squinting down at his book, trying to determine if what he was seeing was an F or a P.

That smile, though… he could’ve seen that dimpled smile from all the way across the street.

He never thought he’d be pining for a stranger like this, but then again – he wasn’t a complete stranger, was he? After all, you could learn a lot about a person by their book preferences. Finn wasn’t normally known for being a good judge of character – he was too optimistic, too unwilling to see the bad in people. But damn, did he hope he was right about this one.

~~~

Finn had probably been too bold with the note he’d just dropped off, but when he’d seen what book that his new maybe-friend was reading, he knew he couldn’t just pass up an opportunity like that.

He didn’t wait to see the reaction this time – he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He just left the short note on top of the book while the blond was at the café counter and booked it (pun definitely intended) out of there as fast as he could.

You have bewitched me, body and soul. <3

- Bambi

~~~

He should’ve waited. Leo’s reaction, all bashful smile and bright red face and pleased expression, would’ve been worth it.

~~~

Leo went back to the bookstore pretty much every day after that, intent on finding this person. Not only was this a fun little game they were playing, but it would be nice to finally have a friend in the city. He still didn’t know anyone besides his coworkers and… well, he was a little lonely. A friend would be nice, especially one who had a shared interest in books.

The only thing left to do was to find them.

Red hair, freckles, glasses, and big doe eyes.

Leo looked for the only four defining traits he had, methodically starting in the front of the store and weaving through isle after isle of bookshelves. When that proved unsuccessful he moved on to the café, gaze landing on the queue first before lurching to a stop at the glimpse of a shock of auburn hair in the far corner booth. Heart hammering in his chest, Leo used his height to his full advantage and peered over the line of people.

Freckles, Glasses, Big, doe eyes.

If he needed any more confirmation, the stranger – the very cute stranger – was reading the same book Leo had been reading a week ago. The one his anonymous friend said they hadn’t read yet.

It had to be him.

Leo didn’t let himself think about it too much – he knew he’d panic if he did. He just strode over and sat down across from him, setting his book down on the table with a quiet thud. The note-writer jumped a little, then lifted wide brown eyes to look up at him.

Oh, but he was gorgeous.

“So what part are you at?” Leo asked, eyes taking in everything they could now that he was close enough – that messy red hair that just barely curled at the ends, the hint of scruff on his jaw, brown eyes shifting from shade to shade in the afternoon light filtering through the window beside him. Soft, mesmerizing lips curved into the beginnings of a smile that Leo couldn’t help but be transfixed by. “Have you gotten to the part where Patroclus dies?”

Finn stared back, trying to look horrified but he knew he was smiling so much that they counteracted each other because, finally, he’d figured it out. “I can’t believe you’d break rule number one of having a reading buddy: don’t spoil the ending.”

Dimples.

“Oops.”

Finn was done for.

“I’m Finn,” he managed to stammer, aiming for his best smile and probably looking like he’d just tasted something awful instead.

“Leo,” his companion said with a warm smile. Then he frowned. “Wait, no. Go back. You can’t spoil the ending of a story that’s literally thousands of years old.” The blond leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee and watching in amusement as Finn gaped at him in horror. He could feel his cheeks and ears getting red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“That’s so not the point!”

Leo laughed, then motioned for Finn to state his case. And then Finn was off, forgetting all about his nervousness and tendency to be awkward. He ranted about that topic for… well, he didn’t really know how long, but it was a while. Leo didn’t even bat an eye, keeping pace well and interjecting with his own points calmly and collectedly – the gentle breeze to Finn’s tornado. He was smiling, too, even though sometimes he tried to hide it behind the rim of his coffee cup. And he was smart, Finn learned as they jumped from one topic to the next and the minutes ticked by. He knew a lot about literature, like Finn, but he could also make these random connections to all kinds of different topics that Finn would’ve never thought of, all while keeping up with Finn’s fast-paced brain and tendency to jump down rabbit holes.

It was an instant connection, the likes of which Finn had never experienced before. It was intoxicating. Finn felt like he could never get enough.

During a lull in between one conversation and the next, Leo pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it over, looking suddenly and inexplicably shy. Finn cocked his head confusedly, then unfolded the paper and looked down.

Would you like to go on a date sometime?

PS: I’m free tonight if you are. :)

- The Guy Who’s Been Crushing on You for Weeks

Finn’s heart threatened to burst. “Absolutely.” He hesitated, just for a second, then decided to go for it. “Are you free now? I know a pretty great café nearby.” With a wiggle of his eyebrows, he jerked his thumb at the bookstore café and earned a laugh. He wondered what he could do to earn another.

“Sounds perfect.”

They walked over to the counter together, the backs of their hands just barely brushing – it was still enough to make Finn hyperaware of every miniscule movement and get his pulse hammering. Leo was teasing Finn for his terrible eyesight in a soft, southern drawl – something Finn definitely wasn’t expecting but sure as hell wasn’t complaining about, his fingers deliberately playing with Finn’s now, and Finn knew it was going to be a good night. It was already a good night; how could it possibly get any better?

“What can I get for you?”

Leo and Finn looked up at the barista and their eyes widened in tandem as they took in thick chestnut waves, long, dark lashes, and bottle-green eyes. He wasn’t smiling, not necessarily. His expression was fairly neutral, all things considered – except for those eyes. If you stared at then long enough, you could see just the faintest whisper of amusement.

They both looked down slightly, searching for a nametag. There, in bold black letters, read:

Logan.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #o'knutzy #finn o'hara #leo knut #bookstore/coffee shop au #bewitched body and soul #cw: food #cw: drink

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

Penguin, James Penguin - Killian x Reader (Spies in Disguise)

Alternate Title: ‘I Wish I Was James Bond’

Holiday Fic 5! 🐧🐧

@wltz-bby @happyskywhale

@xxstar-bluesxx - From one Killian Stan, to another 😉

Author’s Note: It is EXACTLY a year since I saw this movie for the first time.

I had way too much fun writing these two again, safe to say I missed them a lot 🥰🥰

Not joking, this plot has been in my notes since January - and I was like “Well I missed my chance completely with the song and everything!” It’s too good not to pass up!!

Reader character from my SiD series/prequel? You betcha! 😉 But this time we’re writing for them post-movie!

Also playing into the rehabilitation program / Agent!McFord storyline here. So I hope, Killian Stans, that he’s been worth the wait to come back to you. And that I’m ticking a bunch of boxes.

Note: Whilst the song itself certainly has a Christmas theme, the fic does not. At all.

Penguin, James Penguin - Brad Paisley

I Wish I Was James Bond - Scouting For Girls

Disclaimer: SiD & all associated characters not mine / basically taking the same idea as everyone else and slightly subverting expectations, because it wouldn’t be my fic if I didn’t / you don’t necessarily have to read ‘Mine’ to ‘Fresh Start Fever’ to understand this but it might help / lyrics & gifs not mine.

Premise: In an attempt to figure out how Walters Bio-molecular tech works, Killian ends up getting it wrong with disastrous (hilarious) results...

Words: 6793

Warnings: Christmas themed lyrics/No Christmas themed fic / if you squint there’s some slight sexual banter at the end there /

______

I've got another story That I bet you haven't heard Did you know that Santa Has a secret agent bird From an undisclosed location He's watching me and you He's got satellite uplinks in his cufflinks Yeah he sees everything you do He's Penguin, James Penguin That dapper little guy Like a well dressed duck in a three piece tux He's Santa's secret spy Not so very long ago Santa didn't need much help But with more and more kids every year He soon got overwhelmed He told the elves one Christmas We can't do this anymore Then a knight in shining polyester Waddled through his door And it was Penguin, James Penguin He was there to save the day He had wireless And GPS outfitted on the sleigh And Santa said Penguin Won't you be my ears and eyes How'd you like to help me run My SCFBI He's Penguin, James Penguin And now I guess you've heard How Santa got his little Christmas Secret Agent Bird

---

I've seen you walk the screen, it's you that I adore Since I was a boy I wanted to be like Roger Moore A girl in every port, and gadgets up my sleeve The world is not enough for the both of us it seems Hello Mr Bond, I've been expecting you Martini in your hand, and that eyebrow that you move Don't take this the wrong way, I know it might sound odd I'm the next double-0, I'm the right man for the job I wanted to be you, I wanted to be you I wanted to be someone else And I wish I was James Bond Just for the day Kissing all the girls, blow the bad guys away And I wish I was James Bond Just for the day Kissing all the girls, blow the bad guys away And I wish I was James Bond Just for the day Kissing all the girls, blow the bad guys away Roger and Sean and Timmy and George And Daniel and Pierce and maybe one day me

---

The light grey clouds rolled over the mountains on the horizon line. By the colour alone you suspected that you were due heavy snowfall. Up in a mountaintop hideaway you were growing used to such things... no bright blue sky today.

You folded your arms with a sigh; still, a little bit of sunshine would be nice.

KiTT - your assistance drone - beeped every so often as he moved about the room, doing the odd task. Other than that, the house was silent, for now. Your eyes hovered on the helicopter outside and then back to the clouds; would there be a chance of getting out of here for the next few days? You knew cars would be out of the question, it was treacherous even in snow fairing vehicles... Note to self: Next time choose a boyfriend whose idea of a home is not a typical villain’s hide out. Although you supposed it fit his role in all this. At least to the Agency. Things had changed a lot since Killian had tried to take everyone out with his own drones, but they were still very wary of him. You found yourself tasked with keeping him straight - you weren’t sure they understood your relationship. But agreed anyway.

Having finished his tasks and now bored, KiTT whirred his way back over to you, beeping his greeting. Blue lights flashing. You shook your head at him, “What would you have me do? I’ve given you everything I had on my list, why don’t you ask him if he needs any help?” KiTT’s next series of bleeps had you laughing; “I’m sure he didn’t mean to kick you out like that. K just needs to concentrate. You can get pretty loud!” Your drone protested, which only made you giggle. Especially as he tried to make the argument that he couldn’t possibly be any worse than the rest of them.

KiTT had a point: the drones that the Agency had let you take back now helped both you and Killian with lab work - amongst other things – and, with your own expertise in AI, each now had their own distinctive personality just as KiTT did. Sometimes you regretted that decision. Although they couldn’t have been further from his blue and silver finish; in sleek black and red lights. Fitting for your significant other maybe, but it made little sense to you for the Agency to have given them such colours. (And if you were honest, KiTT looks a damn sight better, but you supposed there was a bit of favouritism in that comment.) “Oh, yeah. Cuz nothing says evil robot quite like red lights.” Killian couldn’t clap back at that, KiTT was exclusively blue. “I didn’t design it.” “I know. Which begs the question, why the Agency was building an assassination drone.” He folded his arms, “Well they don’t care, do they?” Protection by any means necessary. Stop the bad guys by any means necessary. “Well...” You raised your eyebrows and tipped your head in agreement. He’d know a lot about that alright...

You found yourself looking back to the clouds and sighed, “You could always go check the weather for me if you’re really that desperate. Or if you could figure out a really quick weather changing machine?” If you could count KiTT’s next sound as a scoff you would, before blue lights ran across his body to let you know he was contacting weather satellites for you.

The sudden crash behind you snapped you both from caring about the weather. It was followed by a slightly smaller - but still loud – one, and then silence again. You immediately started towards the labs, “On second thought, sounds like I should have just asked you to go straight to him!”

When you both got down there it was a little hard to tell what had happened. At first it looked like nothing too serious; work surfaces scattered with tools, screens full of science mechanics... until you spotted the broken glass beakers and liquid running across the surface of a worktop, dripping onto the floor. “K?!” He didn’t appear to be in here, and yet none of his drones were either, which made you think it also hadn’t been them to make this mess. Or they’d made themselves scarce. You turned the lights up a little further and kept walking, cautiously. Well - for one thing, the floor was now covered in broken glass and curious liquids… they should probably be tidied up at the very least. Good thing your drone was in a working mood. There was another sound from further in the lab that made you jump, and you turned towards it. KiTT made a sound of worry. “Hush, clear this away, I got it.” He beeped again, “I’ll be FINE. Cybernetic, remember!?” KiTT’s next beep caused you to glare at him, “Don’t use that tone with me-!”

You made your way carefully over to the noise, stepping around the glass that had been spat all over the floor. You were sure it’d made its way to unknown reaches of the lab, and you should be careful where you were stepping. Sure, you wouldn’t bleed, but thanks to the upgrades it’d still hurt. When you turned the corner, you came face to face with a huddled form. Your head tilted curiously; eyebrow raised. You recognised it alright: but it was more the mystery of how it got in here. It might well have been the source of the crash - after all, you wouldn’t think a penguin to be very careful in a lab. You were just thinking about how you were supposed to catch it and then tell your partner: “Well, a penguin got into the house, and then your lab somehow, and destroyed all your research. Sorry about that-!”, when it turned towards you and-

“AGH-!!” This time you didn’t jump, although both of you were startled. Your eyes widened even further as you stared at him, on the verge of collapsing into laughter. “K?!” The laugh wavered in your voice and you tried to swallow it back, “What did you do?” Killian was very blunt about it; “Turned myself into a penguin, alright. Are you happy now?” “How?” - Trying not to laugh was having the opposite effect and he sighed. “Go on, laugh-!” You did, but still tried to make it muted, before taking a deep breath, “What the hell...? Did you try to copy Walter’s formula-!?” “Well, it didn’t work did it-!” “They are all pigeons; although this is appropriate for our living conditions.” You crouched beside him, “...I gotta say, it’s very cute.” “Shut up!” You knew, were he still human, he’d be red with both anger and embarrassment by now. You reached out to delicately touch his feathers; it seemed, just like Sterling managed to retain the bow tie, Killian would retain the outlines of his suit. He swatted your hand away and hissed; “Stop it!” “Just take the antidote. I mean, it’s all over the desk, but I’m sure we can salvage some of it. I assume you are trying for a pigeon, right? Or maybe you aren’t; gotta say I prefer penguins.” “Thanks.” He responded dryly. You only grinned your ‘you’re welcome’ and then stood to walk back to his desk; even if KiTT had managed to clear everything by now, if Killian had all the data, creating another batch of antidote shouldn’t take too long, and you could enjoy him as a penguin for a few minutes... or hours... more. “No! Wait! Y/N!” He hissed again, flippers grabbing your leg. “What?” Killian gave you a look of significance. Your eyes narrowed; “You took it without making an antidote!?!” “I took it accidentally!! And I had an antidote, it just wasn’t perfected-! Now I’m stuck as a flightless bird-!” “Deadly in water though.” You mused, tilting your head – that was not well received. Killian grumbled, huffing something under his breath. “So, this isn’t Walter’s formula?” “No!” Although it didn’t look like he was prepared to admit it. And you weren’t sure exactly how he managed to take it ‘accidentally’. “I did it myself!” “Well, this part worked.” You continued walking though, which made him waddle after you as fast as he could, “WHERE ARE YOU GOING!?!” “Uhm, to get Walter. He’ll be able to fix this-!” “No!!” He got ahead of you and tried to push you backwards, you halted; you supposed you understood why he wouldn’t want to admit what he’d done. You thought Walter would actually love that Killian’s formula was at least correct, even if he couldn’t reverse it yet. “What are you going to do Killian? Perfect the antidote as a Penguin? Think about this-!” “I AM!” “Rationally.” You stooped again and gathered him in your arms, to which he squirmed until you set him on a clear desk. “He’s the only one who can help you.” “I can do this myself..!” “As a flightless bird?” He’d been the one to say it-! He sighed, but was still unwilling to concede. Folding his flippers across his chest and turning slightly away from you. You stroked a hand over his feathers again, and grumpy as he was, you felt Killian lean into your touch and smirked as you teased him. “We could be halfway to D.C. by now...” He turned to you, eyes narrowed, and pushed your fingers away again, gentler this time. “Fine. But not a word to anyone.” “I promise.” You placed your hand over your heart. “And don’t pick me up again. It’s embarrassing.” You raised an eyebrow, folding your own arms, “So... what are you going to do, waddle around after me?” “Yup.” Killian jumped down from the counter, sliding across the floor to the exit, passing KiTT who beeped curiously and looked to you. You gave a shrug and rolled your eyes. “You coming?”

It didn’t take very long to gather all that you needed and throw yourselves into the helicopter. You thanked your lucky stars that he’d taught you how to fly this thing. Your eyes flicked back to those clouds, “KiTT what did the weather say?” He beeped the response; cold, very cold, chance of snow later but the clouds may have been long gone by then. What concerned you most was if the chopper would fly, he seemed to suggest you’d be fine.

You took a deep breath and flicked all the switches to their correct positions before starting the ignition, blades whirring into life. Your penguin turned to you from his seat, where you’d firmly belted him in. “You sure you know what you’re doing!?! You have to get us all the way to Washington D.C.!” You glared at him, “You wanna try it in your current situation!? You taught me!!” Killian knew he had no choice but to concede. “Just be careful! Nothing reckless!” “Says the man that just turned himself into a Penguin-!” “It was accidental-!” His voice pitched. You placed your hands assuredly on the joystick and moved the helicopter steadily into the air and into higher altitudes. “Accidental my ass, how do you take something like that accidentally-!?” There was overwhelming silence and you knew you’d won again. But sighed, saying softer, “Look, it doesn’t matter...” You pulled out across the mountains and smiled at the blue sky out across your horizon line, the end of this grey was in sight-! “Walter will have you fixed into a sarcastic, Australian, pain-in-the-ass by the end of the day.” Even Killian couldn’t help but laugh at that.

How exactly did you end up in this mess? It’s probably best to go back to the beginning...

Shortly after the whole drone revenge plan had failed, you received an anonymous text telling you to bring a car to a building close to the Capitol Reflecting Pool and Washington Monument. It said nothing more than that, but it made you curious. Upon running it through KiTT and discovering it was from the Agency, your curiosity was only further piqued. And on the dot of the specified time, you were standing outside the building leaning against your car, shades on. To be honest you probably couldn’t have looked less inconspicuous, and you wondered if the Agency, in reality, were about to laugh at you for being so gullible and arrest you too. Well, you’d escaped from them before, and that was more than just a few upgrades ago.

The doors of the building opposite slid open and your mouth was suddenly agape, you slid your shades slowly from your eyes, unable to hide your shock. Stepping into daylight - in a brand-new suit - was none other than Killian himself.

His smile was gentle as he made his way down the steps to you, and your heart was hammering against your ribs. As Killian stopped in front of you, you couldn’t help yourself but throw your arms around him. “Am- am- am I here to pick you up!?” God I missed you, I missed you, I missed you… He chucked, returning your embrace, “I believe that’s the idea, yeah.” “They just let you go!?” Killian placed his right hand in his pocket and huffed, “Well. That’s not exactly it, I had to bargain my way out...” You surveyed him for a minute, all his cybernetics seemed intact; he didn’t look messed with. Running a full diagnostic would give you the whole picture, but you were puzzled. “What’s the price?” “Joining the good guys.” You pulled slightly back, “You’re working for the Agency!?” He gave a nod, “That’s the deal.” “Double cross all your acquaintances?” You smiled, leaning back against the car, “Does kinda sound like you... Oh. Wow. You’re an informant?” “Not exactly.” Your eyes widened further than you felt possible; “You’re an agent!?” “You got it.” But Killian’s smile slightly faded, “Y/N, I- I was only part of the bargain, though.” You understood him immediately, “Me? They want me.” “You’re an inspired scientist; your expertise in the fusion of human biology and robotics… not to mention AI- they can use that. It’s not really even me they want working with them, it’s you.” “You offered me up as a chip!?” You couldn’t help but be a little upset at him for that. “You’re the only chip I had to play!” Even by the desperate look on his face you shook your head, “No.” “I need you with me on this, you think I was gonna do it without you?” His hand reached for yours, and you didn’t pull away. “So, are we... a team?” “Well, about that—-” His eyes flicked over his shoulder and you both turned.

Standing in the doorway now - each with a wildly different expression on their face - were Walter, Lance and... you believed her name was Marcy. Your eyes flicked to his face and back to them. Walter was the only one that seemed to show any kind of joy; and he was ecstatic. You pushed back just about every swear word you could think of. “You’re kidding me?”

He was not, in fact, kidding and after being hauled into a two-hour meeting - which you felt really explained nothing - you were essentially handed a file and an ultimatum. Either you worked with them, or you were thrown in a maximum-security prison. You had to laugh, because you didn’t think this was exactly fair on you. And they had you between a rock and a hard place... Killian and you had always had the same vendetta against the Agency since Kyrgyzstan (maybe his a little more aggressive than yours), and you had a life outside all of this. You couldn’t afford not to take their offer. The Agency knew it.

That made you a lot less mad at him for signing you up, and you turned down the opportunity to vent to him on the drive back; “What do I call you now? Agent McFord!?” “Shut up!” The faint blush across his face made you smile and tease him again: “You do know all that James Bond stuff was a joke, right-!?”

It was one of your favourites. The two of you loved spy movies, unironically. And Killian really liked the classic Bond films, how any time he’d make himself a certain drink you’d come for him with the same joke: “Is that a martini!?” “Yes-??” He was always curious as to why that mattered, only for you to give a pointed smirk, “Alright... James Bond!” And he laughed, hard. And you loved that sound, because it was such a rarity these days, “Surely in this situation Sterling is James Bond...?” Then you smirked again, and gave Killian your best flirty wink, “Not to me!” That seemed to always get you where you wanted. And wasn’t 007 known for his way with the ladies, after all?

Today in your car Killian did not raise to the bait, but you saw him shake his head as he stared out the window. “So, are you going by Tristan or Killian…?” There was a little smile on his face as he continued to stare at the scenery, “I’ll leave that up to you…” Your sudden gasp had him looking back to you as something else gelled in your brain; “Wait does that mean I get to say I’m dating a secret agent!?” “Oh god.” His groan was quiet and you were already grinning, enjoying yourself even more. “You should never have agreed to this!” “Clearly.” “Wait—!” You turned to him in absolute joy, “Can you just put on a British accent for like five minutes-!?” “NO!” And you noticed how he managed to accent his Australian to new levels. Clearly his childhood wish to be James Bond was getting fulfilled, but he wasn’t about to play into it for your whims...

You’d figure out how to break that will before long-!

It took Killian a little more time than he would have liked to convince you that his deal was a good one. You were basically flat out refusing to work for them, doing the bare minimum you possibly could get away with; it felt too much like coercion to you, and they must have known how much you stood to lose.

His first track was to use Walter; with both similar approaches to science & technology and similar levels of enthusiasm for it, the work it would be possible for you to do together would be nothing short of incredible, and both of you knew it. You acknowledged Killian was right, but it wasn’t something you fell for. The files Killian gave you, the access to read about the technology... that interested you. The potential to further yourself in your own field, even if it had to be done with the Agency, was a good draw. But still not enough.

So Killian did the one thing he could, and played the last card he had left. Himself. Baiting you with his own fate. “If they say I’m not doing my job and throw me back where I came from, what then?” You hated him for it, hated even more that he had a point. Hated yourself for having to admit you couldn’t be without him. You’d almost gone stir crazy between his arrest and picking him up. You couldn’t stand to think of it being any longer than that. Too much of a pain point, your one line. You’d both lost enough; you refused to let yourselves lose each other.

You did not become an agent though. Your role was strictly technology and it confined you to the labs. Which you had to be honest, you enjoyed. And because you had your own job – and were a name the industry knew well – you weren’t a full time Agency employee. Your research saved lives – was the reason you still had yours – the Agency couldn’t exactly stop you working on good conscience. Even better! The tension in the team didn’t really let up, but the combination of the four of you (and Marcy and co when necessary) worked well. You all got more done than any other team in the Agency.

Still, the enjoyment of working alone, or with Walter, didn’t stop you from itching to get out there or complaining about it to Killian. “Oh. I see I’m not an agent.” “Less expendable than I.” “Out of me and you, how am I-” “You have a reputation beyond the Agency and they know it. You’re the poster child of cybernetics. They did it to save your brain; didn’t you tell me that yourself?” “You made this...” You indicated to the parts of your body that were, indeed, cybernetic. “Yes, I did.” He touched his forehead to yours, “but the top half of you is flesh and blood and I do not possess the brain you do. For now, you’re best staying in the lab.” Walter didn’t stay in the lab and it made you antsy; running around with Killian or getting to do stuff for him was half the fun.

And eventually you whined enough to get to accompany him on missions, even though you still didn’t get to be an agent.

You had a few style tips for your 007 too. In the same vein as Lance Sterling, Killian’s crisp new Agency suit was complete with bow tie and dazzlingly white shirt. You couldn’t help yourself, looking him over. Oh, sure, Killian looked great, but he didn’t look like him. As you strolled over, Killian stood still and as tall as possible: his obvious thought was that you we’re going to straighten his bow tie. Not a chance! Instead, you unfurled it and threw the fabric to one side, proceeding to undo one... two... you hovered over the third button. Killian placed his hand over yours, “Isn’t that enough?” He should have known that was a fatal mistake to say; “For me? No!” You took a step back with a smile, at the creased eyebrow and small frown look on his face, surveying your handy work: “Mmm. That’s more you. Agent McFord.” And so this was how he started to wear his suits, and before long that signature blue shirt found its way back into the mix, much to your delight.

It was on these missions together that you both became curious in Walter’s biomolecular tech. You from a purely scientific fascination. He had Sterling turning from man to pigeon left, right and centre. And the two of you had drones (now equipped with AI), but even you didn’t have anything like that. Clearly Killian’s interest had become a little more than just the spectacle and scientific theory though.

No, clearly he’d tried to replicate it for himself. And the result hasn’t exactly gone as planned. You supposed he wasn’t about to allow Lance to one up him for the rest of his Agency career - however long that lasted. And Killian wanted to get back on level footing without Walters help; he wanted to do it himself.

And it had worked, a very valiant attempt, but he hadn’t finished his antidote or had miscalculated somewhere... And that was how you had all ended up in a helicopter flying yourself to the Agency labs, with a penguin in the passenger seat.

Yet with what you’d seen working here, this just seemed like a typical day!

***

You landed to the best of your ability, ignoring his slight glare of annoyance at the small bump as you set the helicopter down. You would call that trip a success. You stared at the heavy doors in front of you and gathered your pass; you heard KiTT behind you and his metallic fussing as he switched himself into all the correct safety modes and access clearances for the Agency. That you had done yourself; you didn’t trust Killian with KiTT, did they really think they would get the go ahead to touch him? Turning to Killian you cleared your throat; “You gotta act like a penguin remember-! So don’t talk to me! Or do anything a penguin wouldn’t do!” “What wouldn’t a penguin do!?” You unclipped his seatbelt. Well, you supposed a researcher would know, or someone that worked with them closely in a zoo. But he couldn’t just guess the Agency’s experience. Then again, it wouldn’t surprise you if he knew everyone in it inside out by now. “Look, I don’t know. But don’t make me talk to you, I’m going to look like an insane person-!” Realising that you were both still talking to each other you shared the same ‘shut up!’ look before agreeing not to talk with a silent nod, and with both KiTT and penguin Killian trailing you, you headed across the helipad with your Agency pass.

Here we go again...

God, you hated this building. Most times you’d been out here it hadn’t been for any good reason - and you still didn’t feel particularly safe within it. And so many people… Even when you worked your legitimate job you usually worked alone - or with people you actually liked - you could talk to yourself or KiTT and run your mouth, or talk things through without anyone answering you. Everyone at the Agency had an opinion. When it was just you and Walter it was okay, and Killian was right, you liked him. But sometimes other people got involved and it got messy. To the point where Walter would gingerly steer you from the room before you really went off at someone.

You keyed yourself in; immediately scanned by the Agency’s automatic sensors, the switch turned green and the door swung open for you. You hesitated for a moment and looked down to Killian. “I know you’re gonna hate this, but I’m going to have to carry you through security. I think that’s all there is for it.” You didn’t let him answer as you picked him up but, as before, Killian protested by squirming in your arms as you walked down the hall to the security area. “Geez, now I look like I’m smuggling in a penguin…”

You gained some funny looks for doing so, but you need only say the word research and they let you through with him. As you turned into the next corridor, through the next security door and it all looked empty, Killian nipped at your fingers; “OW! Okay… Geez-!” You put him back on the ground, only for him to shake out his ruffled feathers with a ‘humph!’ The corridors remained silent as you took the long way down to the research centre. And Killian switched from waddling to sliding around on his stomach. You watched with curiosity; you supposed that was faster for him than trying to keep up with you. You turned to KiTT with a raised eyebrow, only to see him also focused with puzzlement on the penguin. Knowing you weren’t about to get anything sensible out of your drone, you spoke once again to your boyfriend: “Is that easier to move, or is it just fun?” Killian barely glanced up at you, but you knew the look he was giving: ‘you’re the one that said don’t talk!’ He was right, but this corridor was empty, the last 10 corridors had been empty! “Geez you can just nod.” You were met with nearly exactly the same look, before he paused, nodded, and carried on his sliding. “It’s fun? You are too cute.”

It took you until the next door for him to stand up and retaliate, but when Killian did, he smacked your leg as best he could with his flipper; you could only laugh.

***

You wandered cautiously through the laboratory and he stayed close; perhaps you should have checked that Walter was actually in today. You could already hear the stirring of whispers, and KiTT beeped in acknowledgement. You glanced to him, “Tell them to shut the hell up then!” His beep was a little louder in annoyance, and you rolled your eyes, but he began flying ominously over the heads of the other scientists and chatter stopped, work resumed. You smiled to yourself; everyone was scared of KiTT because of what they knew Killian’s drones had been capable of. KiTT was harmless, and had no weaponry, but they didn’t need to know that. You quite enjoyed how scared they got sometimes. Served them right for the majority of it. You were a little overcome with joy to see that Walter was indeed in his lab, and even more happy to see that Lance was nowhere to be found. You gave him a wave as you knocked on his door and received a big smile back. “Y/N! I didn’t know you were coming in today!” “Unplanned, I do confess. But it’s good to see you Walter!” “Well, it’s lovely to see you too! You working?” “Actually I came to ask a favour…” “Oh!” He straightened in his chair as he swung it towards you, large blue eyes curious, “What is it?” “Your bio-molecular technology?” “Yes.” It was at this point he noticed the penguin, and you could see the million questions racing in his mind, so you opted to continue quick before he got a chance to ask them. “Is that just for Lance? Would it work on anyone? You must have the formula, right? Is there any chance I can take a look? Both for the transformation process and the antidote to it. I mean you guys are using it all the time.” “Uuuhhhh…” Now you’d given Walter a million questions, and his eyes kept flicking downwards to your companion. “Well, I…Yes, I guess I could…. show you how to… Do you want to do this with a penguin?” “Ignore the penguin.”

Walter tried to keep his eyes on you, especially as the look you were giving him was serious, but eventually they trailed back to the bird at your feet. He studied it for a while and ignored you trying to protest him disregarding what you’d said. He leant forward on his chair, “Killian?” Instead of acting as he was supposed to, your partner became immediately angry. “Not a WORD to Sterling, or I SWEAR-!!” Instead, Walter lit up with a gasp, “You perfected your own formula!?! That’s so amazing—!! Colour me impressed-! Well, I could make what I made for him, so you can turn pretty much at will-!! Well-” He turned to you with a smile, “with some assistance of course-!” “A secret agent penguin!” The idea was funny to you, but at the same time you couldn’t help but love it. Killian immediately protested, “NO-! THATS STUPID, WE ARE NOT—!” You nudged him with your foot to shut him up, before continuing a sensible track of conversation, “First off, I suppose we should get the formula done. Then we can think about what we want to do with it afterward.” “All you need is the antidote right? I can get right on that… but, Killian, I’m going to need your help with what you did…” Walter spun back to the computer and began typing away, “Pull up a seat you two!” You dragged one across, and Killian scrambled up onto your lap; “I don’t have my formula, but KiTT could probably download it. He has a satellite uplink to the lab back home.” Walter nodded, “That’ll do, I’ll have to make sure the antidote coincides… I can’t promise this will be short though, you might be stuck like that for a few more hours.” “Hours!?” Killian sounded exasperated but turned to your assistance drone: “KiTT, see if you can link back to the lab and access file F-BMP5. Then send it across to Walter.” KiTT, glad of something to do, bleeped happily and set to work. “Sorry buddy.” Walter replied softly, “A penguin though, I’m impressed.” “Not entirely easy to find birds where we live.” This caused you to chime in, “Genuinely there are penguins up there?” “If you know where to look.” “Huh!” You smiled gently, “You’ll have to show me!”

Walter worked as quickly and carefully as possible, and as you suspected people were fascinated. Everyone who passed couldn’t resist knocking on the door and asking what a penguin was doing here. Some even having the nerve to ask, ‘Is that penguin talking?’ By the time the last one had enquired you were up by the door: “NO!” and slamming it back in their face. Walter took precautions to lock you all in here and frost the glass for privacy after that.

Killian remained in your lap, and you held him close, stroking your fingers through his feathers again, this time he didn’t seem to mind too much, and at times when you paused, he would nuzzle against your hands to get you to continue. Though you knew he would never admit it. As he continued working on the antidote, Walter again brought up the possibility of using this ultimate spy tech regularly. Killian didn’t seem keen, but you wondered if you could get him to warm to the idea… “I’m sure that we could find a little suit jacket for you in that form.” He glared back at you, “You’re enjoying this a little too much, aren’t you?” “A little, yeah!” You grinned in admittance, making him turn to Walter. “It’s a hard no from me.” “Aw, Killian, c’mon!” That only made Walter chuckle, “Let him get used to it Y/N, he’ll like it eventually, Lance did.” “You mean just leave him like this for a while?” Walter grinned, “Something like that!” Killian spluttered, stamping his foot against your leg; “YOU TWO PUT ME BACK RIGHT NOW!”

When Walter had the serum made up, he walked you both into another lab to perform the procedure. Killian let you carry him. “You can drink it if you want, but I’d like to run a few tests.” “Meaning what?” “I mean, if I put you under anaesthetic… I can check a few things.” “Is that usual?” “No but it’s your first time, and Lance’s wasn’t a pleasant experience I just want to make sure you’re okay, or Y/N will kill me.” Killian narrowed his eyes at both of you, standing there trying to look so innocent. “Fine. If I wake up and I’m not human again, I’m going to kill both of you.” Walter winced, however you only smirked; “Noted!”

***

When Killian awoke again, he was indeed human. But he was not in a lab in Washington D.C. instead he was in bed, back in the mountain top hideout. Had he really been out that long? Or was whatever drug used in the anaesthetic or antidote so strong he simply couldn’t remember anything else. He stretched, glad his head wasn’t spinning, and walked into the bathroom. Skimming his fingers up the side of his neck he pressed down on the projection switch. Killian checked this every morning as routine; that the system worked, that there were no problems with the metal, or his eye. This morning, nothing worked. He straightened up with a frown and tried again. Nothing. Killian rushed through the house; “Y/N! Y/N!” He sounded panicked, making you shake your head and call him through. “In the main room, babe.” He ran the rest of the way, “Y/N, my projection isn’t working!” You turned to him slowly, crooked, amused smile on your face; as if you were trying to hold back a laugh. “Are you sure? Why don’t you check again?” This time Killian was more careful, fingers sliding up his neck tentatively. He paused, realising that he couldn’t even feel the switch. It no longer existed. His eyes flew wide, voice quiet; “You- you- fixed it!” You grinned, smile slowly spreading across your face as you nodded, “Yes! So now you have a complete face!” He sprinted the rest of the way to you, grabbing you into a hug. You couldn’t help laughing, throwing your arms around him too as Killian buried his face in his shoulder, “You can cry now too! But please don’t! I would feel terrible!” “How-!?” “Turns out I can pick up a thing or two… Called in a few favours...” He pulled back and you framed his face with your hands, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks, “The Agency have better tech, but I never admitted that out loud. I’ve been wanting to do it for a little while but… Walter finally gave me the opportunity.” “...Thank you.” “Oh, don’t you start.” You indicated to yourself, “I have far more to thank you for.” You gestured to his robotic arm, “I thought… maybe I’d leave that. That was a feat of engineering y’know?” He laughed, “One thing at a time, huh?” “Yes!” You agreed with a nod.

Killian tugged away from you for a moment, and studied your clothes. He was in luck; they were the ones you had been wearing at the labs. Although, as he glanced to the colour of the sky perhaps it wasn’t the morning after all, perhaps it was later in the same day. It was snowing, though, so that weather prediction had been correct. Killian couldn’t be sure when it was exactly, but it was imperative you were wearing these clothes. “I just need to do something.” You were confused as he got closer to you. “What?” “Don’t get too excited.” He ran his hand down your body to the pocket of your jeans. “I mean, I can’t help get excited, you’re here and touching me.” “Stop it.” Although Killian smirked, slipping his hand into your pocket. You stilled, and your features pulled into a highly suggestive look as your eyes scanned his; “I mean, I have questions, Agent McFord.” He rolled his eyes at you as he fished a small disk drive out of your pocket. “…Wait!” You gasped, moment broken, “What the hell is that!? Where did you get that!?” You patted yourself down suddenly, “Killian-!” He closed his hand around it and beckoned you with him, turning to walk back to the labs, you hurried after him, “No one was paying much attention to the Penguin, were they!” “Wait! Seriously! What is that?” “Shush, you’ll see.” He plugged it into his computer and you waited patiently for it to boot up before you found yourself gasping again; “Is that… The Agency’s entire weapons tech!?” “Yup.” You whipped around to him, hands on his desk, “ARE YOU DOUBLE CROSSING THE AGENCY!” “Kinda.” His face was fairly nonchalant as his eyes held yours again. “Killian!” You couldn’t believe this was happening. After all that talk, and trying to persuade you into this. “After what they did...” He transposed the files, “are you really THAT surprised?” You folded your arms, hating that he had a point, “...Well no. But I... thought you might be a little more discreet.” “What they don’t know won’t hurt them - besides a few months ago you were telling me I was double crossing all the people I worked with, so is it double crossing a double cross or is it simply that I’m an effective double agent?” “... That’s a lot of doubles.” “Mm.” “I figure that’s not what the programme and agreement of your release was for. K, if they find out…” He tipped his head, eyes very nearly pleading with you. “I’m not covering for you!” “Accomplice?” “Not in your wildest dreams!” You were grinning - but maybe grimacing, because you thought perhaps you’d get caught up in this too, being part of his damn agreement - and Killian already knew he’d got away with it. You were going to be there for him no matter what he did and no matter what happened, you’d made that promise too long ago and you’d never break it. Not after what you’d been through together. You folded your arms again, “I won’t rat on one condition.” His eyes rolled, “What could that be?” “If you’ll agree to use Walter’s biomolecular tech, penguin yourself on missions in the same way Lance does his pigeon transformation.” Killian scoffed, “How?!” You were sure he wished he didn’t ask as you produced a collection of vials from a table across the lab. Killian’s face fell slightly. “You did not.” “Oh, we did!” “That’s most certainly punishment.” You indicated to the screen, “Someone brought this upon himself.”

There was silence, before he began chuckling, pulling you into his arms gently - and you were only too happy to accept his hug and a kiss to your forehead. “Geez. The things I do for you!” You moved to catch his lips delicately in ‘thanks’. Oh yeah, like you couldn’t say the same thing!

---

Thank you for reading the penultimate fic of the year! 😁

#Killian #Killian sid #Tristan McFord #Spies in Disguise #Killian x Reader #Tristan McFord x Reader #Agent McFord #Killian/Ashlinn #Ashlinn #Kitt the Drone #KiTT #205 #This boy went in a box in Jan/Feb popped up in April and now he's back for December!#Alternatively: I Wish I Was James Bond #Which is the song I would have used for the 007 pieces because this is technically 2 fics in one #I'm rambling again but whatever...#Linzi Writes #Smol Bean Drabbles #I have missed writing for these two SO much!!#But then I look in the SID tag and I'm like /oh yeah. this is why.../#I still don't understand this Keller Killian thing but I crack up every time I see it because Ben also played Keller in Captain Marvel...#...so that's hilarious!!#And now I can only think of them being somehow related and thats even funnier #New Canon: Director Keller becomes Killian #burn everything you love / then burn the ashes #I've been listening to this song on repeat all day and its very Krennic but it's very good for Killian too!

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jinterlude · 4 years

Text

Grow a Pear

—Requested by @shadowsremedy: Seokjin + Kuroko’s Basketball + School Gym as part of @bangtan-headquarters Bangtan Anime Club Drabble Event!

—Pairing: Seokjin x Reader (Female OC) [feat. Seungcheol from SVT]

—Genre(s): Humor, Slight-Angst, & Slight-Fluff

—AUs/Tropes: Anime-verse, Kuroko’s Basketball!AU, High School!AU, Basketball Player!Seokjin, Basketball Club Manager!Reader, Opposites Attract Trope

—Warning(s) & Rating: Swearing, Reader threatening bodily harm onto Seokjin, Shameless flirting, & Jealousy from an old middle school rival / PG-15

—Word Count: 1.6K

—Summary: In which news of playing against a certain team sparks a rather interesting memory...

—A/N: This drabble is based on episodes 52 & 53 of KnB, but you do not have to watch the series to understand this story’s overall premise! It is also inspired by Kesha’s song “Grow a Pear” (hence the title LOL) because I immediately think of Kise’s character. Since Seokjin reminds me of that 2D pretty boy, I decided to write a fun story!

“Hey, ___!”

A faint hum exits your lips as your eyes remain fixated on your player statistics book. You flip between a few pages with the gears in your brain working in overdrive, almost forgetting for a split moment that Kaijo’s basketball captain asked for your attention.

“Yes, Sungwon?” You reply, closing the book and tucking it underneath your arm.

Pursing his lips, Sungwon strides over to you, leaning against the stage inside the gym. Don’t you love playing inside an auditorium?

“So…” He begins but grows silent. How on Earth is he supposed to ask you to be the sacrificial lamb? How will he tell you that you’ve been chosen to say the team’s resident narcissist yet talented prodigy that Kaijo will play against Fukuda Sugo? Specifically, they’re playing against a certain someone with a rather colorful history with yourself and said prodigy.

Tiny creases form on your forehead as your brows knit together. You know that carefree look anywhere. More often than not, you become chosen to do a specific task that no other teammate wants to do—talking to Kim Seokjin.

“Now, before you say no—”

“Nope.”

“You didn’t even hear what I have to say.”

“Doesn’t matter. My answer is still the same. No.”

With that, you turn on your heel, and not even a few steps in, you bump into the one person you don’t want to see.

“Princess!”

And to think…

You were having such a fantastic day…

“What do you want, Seokjin?” You question, grabbing the statistics book from your underarm and flipping it open to some random page. You already have the data mesmerized like the back of your hand. You just want to appear busy in front of the arrogant pretty boy.

“Well, besides you finally acknowledging that you’re my girlfriend? A little bird told me that we’re playing against his team in the Quarterfinals,” Seokjin replies, his tone dropping near the end. This serious expression slowly takes over his handsome features, almost sending shivers down your spine.

If looks can kill, then Seokjin is guilty of murder in the first degree...

Thank God he chose to attend a different school. Who knows what will happen if two people who absolutely despise each other play on the same team.

“Remind me to thank Namjoon for that…” You mutter, slightly shaking your head as you slowly draw in your breath. Then, a force, light chuckle escapes your lips, personally finding it rather humorous of the current situation.

“Anyway, so how are you feeling about playing against the dude who has a thing for your sloppy seconds?” You tease, attempting to lighten up the situation.

Seokjin’s brow perks up, “Sloppy seconds?” he repeats, a tiny grin form on his handsome face.

You nod, “Well yeah...I mean, he did steal your ex-girlfriend from you.”

In response, the arrogant basketball player hums. However, this exciting gleam enters the corners of his eyes.

What is he thinking now?

Suddenly, he turns to you, his gaze piercing into yours with this unexplainable emotion glazing over his eyes.

“Oh? I mean, he did come close to stealing you away from me that one day.” He states as this bright smile dances across his gorgeous face.

For a split second, your cheeks become hot. Your heart practically drums against your chest. Shit. Even your palms clam up, sticking to the cover of the player statistics book.

What is this feeling?

Then, it dawns on you. This nervousness is the same emotion you felt when you comforted Seokjin that fateful day—well, supported him in your own unique way…

Tapping your pencil against your chin, a soft growl emits from your lips as you try to figure out the best course of action. The Captain, Kim Namjoon, previously asked you to develop a plan to preserve the Generation of Miracle’s stamina, specifically when using their rather unique talents. At first, you thought Namjoon was flat out insane for asking such a request. Like, you’d have to take into account their height and weight difference. Oh! You couldn’t forget that you also keep in mind their current talent levels. All while these calculations occur during an official game with another team.

Yeah...

Namjoon might as well tell you to put on a fucking jersey while he’s at it.

Rubbing the sides of your forehead, you can’t help but let out a long, harsh breath as this throbbing sensation enters the left side of your head.

“Hey, manager ___.” You hear a familiar voice, interrupting your rather irritating calculations. You look up from the tiny pile of scattered papers containing player statistics. However, you don’t bother spouting words towards the overly cocky player. Instead, you merely hum in response, unknowingly irking the basketball player.

Plastering on a smug grin, the person leans against the stage, quickly glancing at what you’re doing.

“So, is that the special project Namjoon asked you to do for him?” The arrogant male student asks.

“Yep, and shouldn’t you be practicing Seungcheol?” You question back, raising a brow.

Seungcheol scoffs lightly, “Why? I mean, I already earned a permanent spot on the regular team, so…” He trails on, chuckling to himself. He finds the mere thought of his spot being taken away quite humorous.

You mentally roll your eyes. God, you don’t know who’s the bigger arrogant fool. Him or—

“Yo, Seokjin!” shouts Jungkook, running up to the new recruit.

Ah, Kim Seokjin. He recently joined the basketball club just a few months ago. He’s already showing promise despite being a second-year student. Shit. Seokjin’s talents have rapidly progressed to the point that Namjoon took notice of him and was promoted to first-string just last week.

Yet, you can’t quite put your finger on it, but something is holding Seokjin back.

But what?

Before you become entirely lost in your thoughts, you hear Seungcheol’s arrogant voice taunt Seokjin.

Oh, great…

You swiftly stand up from your seat and rush over to the argumentative duo. But as you draw near to the quarrelsome pair, you instantly halt. What is this intense atmosphere lingering in the air?

And why do you suddenly feel something other than agitation towards Seokjin?

“W-what did you say?”

“You heard me, Kim Seokjin. Whoever wins our 1v1 match earns the right to call ___ his girlfriend.”

“Hold on. You can’t just call dibs on ___!” shouts Jungkook in complete and utter shock.

Instantly slapping yourself back, in reality, you snatch a basketball from an innocent player and roughly throw it at Seungcheol, anger visible all over your face.

Sadly for you, the annoying prick catches it with ease, smirking at you.

“What’s the matter, babe? You don’t believe that I can put Seokjin in his place?” He coos, further taunting Seokjin. What sets the handsome prodigy over the edge is when Seungcheol abruptly pulls you against his chest, dropping the basketball in the process. His cheek brushes against yours, making you want to gag.

Just as you’re about to violently elbow him in the stomach, Seokjin shoves Seungcheol away before forcefully throwing the discarded ball at him.

“You start.”

“This should be fun.”

But it was just the opposite...

It was a complete slaughter with Seokjin on his hands and knees, panting and sweating profusely. His eyes widened from the shock of his defeat.

Not only has he lost horribly against Seungcheol, but he also lost you—or so he believes.

“So, how about that date, baby girl? After all, you’re now my girlfriend.” Seungcheol asks, making sure that Seokjin can hear him.

“Yeah, I don’t date dudes who have a thing for other fellas’ sloppy seconds.” You bluntly state, turning towards Yoongi and Jungkook, “I mean, first it was Yerin, right? The one that was going around the entire fucking school saying that she was Seokjin’s girlfriend. Oh, I feel sorry for her since it was just last week, you were chasing after her, and now you’re after me.” You say, clicking your tongue in fake disappointment.

Seungcheol’s arrogant smile vanishes and is now replaced with a scowl.

“Let me ask you this, why are you obsessed with Seokjin’s sloppy seconds? Like there are a million girls in this damn school who, oddly enough, would love to be your arm candy. Yet you go after the ones that either show interest in Seokjin or who Seokjin’s interested in. Like, dude. Stop. It’s honestly creepy to the point that I firmly believe you have a weird obsession with him.” You finish as you walk over to Seokjin, offering him a helping hand.

Seokjin faintly smiles, grabbing your hand, as he pulls himself up. Soon, his smile becomes bright. His sweet smile almost blinds you—and makes your heart skip a beat.

“I knew you had a soft spot for me, ___.”

“Don’t push it, Jinnie boy.”

Softly shaking your head, you playfully shove Seokjin, snapping him out of his thoughts. You then jump down from the stage, having popped yourself up there moments earlier.

“Well, all I have to say is that Seungcheol better watch out. He hasn’t seen your ‘Perfect Copy’ in action yet.” You warmly smile as you make your way towards the exit but soon halt. You glance over your shoulder, maintaining that sweet smile, and say,

“Besides, he’s no match for you with your girlfriend cheering you on from the bench.”

“Right…” He mumbles, totally ignoring your words. Then, it hits him as if someone doused him with cold water.

“Wait! Did you just call yourself my girlfriend?!!” Seokjin hollers, chasing after you.

“I don’t know. Win tomorrow’s match, and I’ll let you know.”

“Oh, that’s cruel, princess…”

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jeeperso · 3 years

Text

D&D Quotes Without context

Miscellaneous Edition, for those quotable lines from between sessions

"All I wanna do, is fork a giant woman! A giant woman!" "Jonni, I'm pretty sure she is some type of undead, probably a vampire. Are you sure that is a good idea?" "If I don’t get turned into a blueberry it won’t be my worst date." "Okay, but if you have to defend yourself just don't burn the place down for once." "Oh, Nyx. Sweet summer child. I never make promises we both know I won’t even try to keep." "Jonni, if I wake up to my bed surrounded in flames again I'm short-sheeting your next bed every night for at least a month." "I know you're trying to score here, but Lady Dimitrescu's daughters are literally vampires AND bugs. I can overlook one, but as a Paladin, it is my sacred duty to burn this place to the ground and stir the ashes."

"We don't let Marshall make breakfast anymore." "Those waffles are well-fortified." "I'm going to be charitable and call it hardtack." "We can use these waffles as melee weapons." "Well if we need to deflect siege engines they'll be good to have." "This is still carbon based and digestible by human systems without any poisons." "I can't serve this. It'll cause ... death." "Marshal we've been over this. This Pizza has 10% less of a lethal amount of grease." "Plus they signed the waivers when they bought a ticket. It's fine." "And don't forget to push the Cakeon." "Cakeon being slices of cake wrapped in bacon." "The special sauce is a mixture of mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard, ranch, horseradish, cheddar cheese, sour cream, and anything unfortunate enough to fall into the mixing vat."

"You do have a copy of the legal code I requested in my letter? As landed gentry you should actually have legal avenues to... I'm sorry did you say Burning child?"

"First I'm going to nail a crossbow bolt through your heart. Then I'm going to mount your balls to walls on opposite sides of this chamber." "I need Three Barrels of Butter" "Are you serious? Those Claws could crush an elephant in full plate!" "You're Right!" *Turns to first person* "We might need more than three barrels of butter."

"So Ioun is the patron of poor college kids. that scans "

"its hardtack or a mug of molten cheese-fried... something in a woven mug of bacon. your choice."

"Welp, all this coke ain't gonna snort itself..."

"Right hand me that dress and the bail money. I'll get Jonni." OOC: Well I mean they allow men in the city. Its just no men live in the city. "I stand by my statement. I'm allowed to look pretty every now and then." OOC: And dragons are the most unprejudiced lovers of anyone after bards.

OOC: Well I mean come on, its Ravenloft: saying a place is of death and madness is like making the observation the day ends in y. "Going out. Getting laid." "Jonni, she’s a werewolf." "Going out, forking a werewolf." OOC: Well Lycanthropy isn't usually sexually transmitted. Its just that Mercedes is a biter. OOC: ...I don't have an appropriate response to that.

"You seriously think I’d turn on my friends for a pile of gold?!?" "sigh I’ll show you my tits. "Hot damn, let’s get these murders done!" "No, Jonni, stay good. Besides, there are plenty of other girls who will do that without asking you to murder us." "Hmmmm… this is the moral quandary of my life…" "I’ll give you five bucks." "Scales tipped!" "Phew, I thought I was going to have to cover her next trip to the topless bar." "No, no, I have the bail money right here."

Nyx: So what’s the inside of Jonni’s head like? Edmund (with thousand yard stare): Imagine every ladies only smut magazine you’ve ever heard of going on forever into infinity while everything is on fire. Food was good though.

"It’s cool. They stole it." "And you know this how?" "Magic." “90% of Ravenloft deaths are mysterious vanishings.” "Why does everything come out covered in glitter and … is that …" "Lube. I’ve got a few theories." "Please don’t share them."

OOC: This is a plan that ends with Strahd having fewer brides, his castle is in flames, and he’s lost his cape.

OOC: Our team consists of a horny pyromancer, a gnome who can fillete you in five seconds, an HP lovecraft protagonist with actual magic backing them up, a literal slab of iron with a face, and a guy with a "I went to the eternal city of Ryleth and all I got was PTSD and this lousy T shirt". Gorbash smashing his shield into their face: "Have! You! Considered! Therapy!" OOC: Good news is you guys will no longer be the most conspicuous guys at the masquerade now. Jonni: Challenge accepted! "Nyx, the bounty on stealing his fake mustache is still on."

"Vanilla is the king of flavors. What does it say about society where vanilla is considered just 'regular'?" "That they have a lot of vanilla." Lash: "Don’t you want wishes?" Jonni: "Do I need wishes to get to see you naked?" Lash: "No?" Jonni: "Fuck ‘em." Vesh: "Oh dammit its my arranged fiance." Pit Fiend: "Milady." Vesh: "An extra wish to whoever punches this douchecanoe in the nards." Jonni: "I wish…for Bigby’s clenched fist of nard punching."

Soth: "Oh, gods, why am I on fire and why is Immigrant Song playing?" Jonni: "Take a guess." Hazlik: "Okay, so its a partridge, stuffed inside a chicken, stuffed inside a duck, stuffed inside a turkey, and the whole thing is fried on a stick. Congratulations, that's the most horrible thing I have ever seen, and I once crossbred an elephant and an owl." "I give him the 'itis, and we run like we stole something." OOC: ...weirdly Curse of Strahd has stats for Strahd zombies but not Strahd Skeletons. Or Strahd's skeletal Steed. Strahd once went to a branding seminar hosted by Bane and it changed his life.

"Are we on a high enough floor that if I throw him through the window he'll be killed by the fall?" "Oh, but when I say stuff like that it’s all 'Jonni, murder is wrong.'" "When they say pick your battles they don't mean to pick all of them. That's too many battles Jonni. Put some back." OOC: He's technically already got a symbiote. OOC: They can get married. Gorbash: "I'm increasing the rent." Venom: "Can I keep the pool table?" Gorbash: "I'm not a monster." Giant Brain: "Jonni… I have summoned you here for… WHY AM I ALREADY ON FIRE! PUT ME OUT! PUT ME OUT!"

"Hello We're the party-crashers. This is Jonni, she's here to steal your women and burn your shit down. That's Nyx, she's going to repatriate certain items from the premise. Marshal over there, is here to studiously ignore our shenanigans. This is the New Guy. He seems pretty chill. I'm Gorbash... and I have been distracting you."

"Will you walk into my parlour?" said a spider to a fly. Jonni: "Hold up. Trying to sex a spider." Nyx: (throws her hands up) And then Jonni wakes up with a spider venom hangover webbed to a wall waiting to be eaten. Jonni: "Eh, I’ve had worse one night stands. I’m not a fucking blueberry." OOC 1: Hey, where does your weed elf grow [her] crops? OOC 2: She probably just grows them in the room she hasn’t paid rent on. OOC 3: Because I was also considering a circle of spores druid tortle. OOC 2: We could be partners! We could turn this into road to el dorado staring Cheech and Chong. OOC: Wait, I just realized five people are hanging out in a pirate bar, and none of us are rogues. We are gonna need someone to get thieves tools. OOC: We have a barbarian with a big stick.

"Are we Foxhound now? Blunderbuss Octopus." OOC1: You want to put the stoner in charge of food. OOC2: Eyup. OOC1: I see no way this can go wrong! OOC3: We need the four basic food groups. Beans, Bacon, Whisky, and Lard. “We pray to Almighty Darkseid! Give us a sign! Thumbs up, for the triumph of the human spirit! Thumbs down to begin the everlasting reign of darkness!” “Where did you find this guy?” “Me? I thought you hired him.” OOC: Yup, nature, arcana, history, investigation and religon at +6. MJ got baked and watched the Discovery Orb a lot. Tordek: "But we have a cleric, Jozan, over there." Strahd: *sigh* Snaps fingers, and suddenly one of Strahd's brides sucks Jozan out the window, cue screaming. "Oh look, you suddenly have an opening, how fortunate." Tordek: "We also have a druid...." Vadania: "SHUT UP, TORDEK!" Edmund: "I think the first order of business may be to discuss your Human Resources strategy..." Strahd: "I have a guy for that too."

youtube

"When someone as smart as him talks with himself, it's not crazy...They call it monologing." "I thought it was soliloquy?" "No, soliloquy is when you're talk at someone else when your talking to yourself." "Most people would run from a demon, you run towards it to study it." Professor: "THIS IS ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING! A FROGHEMOTH, AND RIGHT UP CLOSE, IT WILL BE AMAZING TO SEE THIS PERFECT KILLING MACHINE IN ACTION." OOC: Also note the Professor is Lawful Good, Archie is Chaotic Good, so collectively they balance out to Neutral good. OOC: That's good. "The incinerations will continue until morale improves!" “You never incinerate the women!” “Because I’m fucking them!” “I… was not expecting you to be so honest about that…”

"You got what you wanted....but you lost what you had...." "Yes, I'm familiar with how capitalism works."

OOC: Dragons are like, “That’s Krandor the shiney. He only fucks other dragons. Weirdo.”

Gorbash: "D'awww, so tiny... perfect size... FOR PUNTING!" *boots tiny mind-flayer into the horizon*

"Dracula hasn't been spotted in almost recently. Whats he gonna do, destroy all we know and love like he definitely can?" "... my god you people are too stupid to live." "What are you doing in my house?" Gorbash: "...well Edmund has been reading your books, I've been sorting through your armory, Nyx and Irost has been going through your other shinies, Marshal has been cleaving anything monstrous that gets too close, and Jonni has been lighting things on fire to stave off boredom." Gorbash: "Okay Marshal, Jonni. Rock, paper, scissors over who gets [to kill] the bishop."

Jonni: "Did you really think this would make up for what you did?" Nima: "I… killed everyone you grew up with." Jonni: "Yeah, and I’m still not forgiving you for what you did to Eddie." Nima: "I am missing some key context here…" Nima: "Also I committed identity theft on you by having my new undead army tell everyone you are running the show." Jonni: "Oh, no. You’ve fooled the boar tribe. Who still haven’t figured out shitting in a hole." Nima: "Yeah I noticed that. I ruined two pairs of shoes attacking their camps."

#dungeons and dragons #dnd 5e #quotes without context #ravenloft #castlevania #resident evil village #ooc

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Attached - Bonus

Words Read After the Lights-Out

Type: (mini)-series, college AU, professor AU (technically)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 5500

Summary: Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Time apart is usually unpleasant and this time wasn’t as exception. With messed-up sleep schedule, Steve helps himself with one of your writing he knows you finished. Will it help him fall asleep?

Warnings: smut, 18+, nsfw, semi-public masturbation, oral (fem receiving), PIV, hints of dom/sub, and fluff… and language (always)

A/N: @donutloverxo is ‘bad’ influence on me. Hopefully it will make up for me still not participating in the wonderful weekly challenge.

So here. Have a tiny bit more of smut and then I’m done with it. I am not a smut writer, no, no, no, no… but yeah, I had plenty of fun with this. It’s smut in a fluffy wrapping, because of course it is. I’m me. So, enjoy?

(Also, I copied the start of reader’s fic from the epilogue, so just you’re not surprised)

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Steve knew he had permission – a half-heartedly mumbled one, somewhere between consciousness and drifting to sleep, but still a permission –, yet he felt a bit dirty.

He had printed the pages few days ago before he left, knowing you finished the story for now named ‘the second encounter with Professor R’, morbidly curious, but hesitant to dive in. These were still your writings, your imaginations and they might have concerned him, but they were still very intimate. And he wasn’t just thinking sexual intimacy – it was simply something coming from the very depth of your mind and Steve honest to god didn’t want to invade your privacy.

However, he had asked if you’d mind if he read what you had written, and you said no. He had asked if he could read it then – and you said yeah.

Here. Permission. Clear as day. And you had left your laptop open, still logged in, as if in invitation. So he had downloaded it and printed it out.

And now he was watching you lying on your stomach, hugging the pillow that was very much on his side of the bed as if you wished you were cuddling him instead and Steve didn’t crave anything but sliding beside you and pulling you to his side.

The problem was that he had been to a conference on the other side of the country and he nodded off on the plane and not even the long shower made him relax properly. And the last thing he wanted was to wake you up, because the last time you Facetimed, you looked like you could sleep for a year.

Steve knew that the fact he had left you alone for the first time since the rumours started that you two were together and it was no surprise that facing the vultures without the possibility to find solace in each other’s arms was taking its toll on you – he wouldn’t like it either. You wouldn’t admit it to him; you kept the distress about it to yourself, not wanting to burden him. The bed was lonely without him, you had said instead, a claim no doubt true as well – and boy, could Steve relate to that.

So now he fished out the few pages and settled at the desk, only the dim light revealing your words to him, as if they were something that indeed should remain a secret.

Steve spent one more glance at your sleeping form, serene, your lips parted as you softly breathed into the pillow, eyes closed, eyelashes casting weak shadows over your cheeks with the little lamp on and Steve couldn’t stop the corners of his lips rising. You were beautiful and his, lying in his bed, practically begging for him to come and take you to his arms.

Steve promised himself that once he would finish reading, hopefully tire his eyes for a bit, he would do exactly that – falling into a blissful sleep with you in his embrace.

He should have known better, really. He should have known that your story would do everything but lull him to sleep.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Your pen was half-heartedly scribbling on the paper, your brain not quite registering the words coming from his mouth.

You weren’t prepared for a damn history lecture; mostly because when you knocked on the door of the professor’s office, you did not expected to find him not alone; his colleague, the grumpy old idiot, was sitting at his desk, making nots from a book which you probably wouldn’t even be able to lift with how thick it was.

Speaking of thick things… one was meant to be between your legs now, but no, the other prof just had to sit there third-wheeling and cock-blocking—dammit.

Now here you were, sitting opposite to Professor Rogers at his desk, pretending to be taking notes while he kindly filled in your missing knowledge, talking about god knew what.

His voice was a balm to your ears, deep timbre echoing in your ribcage, stirring heat in your abdomen. His voice did things to you no matter what words he spoke and from what distance, but you much rather had him whispering filthy suggestions to your ear, teeth grazing your skin, praises for all the things you allowed him to do to you, with his fingers, with his tongue, with his-

“Miss Clark!” Professor Rogers snapped all of sudden, voice stern and minutely louder than before. Your head snapped to him at instant, meeting his intense glare and a raised eyebrow. “Do I need to remind you that you were the one who expressed a supposedly genuine endeavour to earn your credit? If you could take notes instead of…” he eyed your wannabe notes with the scepticism they deserved “-doodling, that would be splendid.”

The smirk on his lips gave him away as he met your gaze, rising from his seat pointedly.

“Yes, Professor Rogers,” you said meekly, speeding up the circles and other random motions with your hand. “I’m sorry. My mind wandered off, I got lost in your narrative. It won’t happen again.”

You were so full of shit, because the only thing you got lost in was your own imagination, unholy pictures filling your impatient brain. Professor Rogers certainly knew that too – but he kept the front up for his colleague who just couldn’t seem to leave the damn room if even for a minute.

“It better not,” Professor Roberts commented gruffly, circling the hardwood desk slowly, fingers tracing the top of what he was meant to be fucking you against shall your fantasy come true any time soon. You shifted in your seat, feeling slickness gathering between your lower lips in anticipation. “As I was saying, the battle of Stalingrad…”

A sudden thought struck you when he stood beside you; for the first time in the past hour, you actually wrote something down instead of drawing random patterns.

Professor Rogers looked over your shoulder, reading the line about Professor Banks being a pain in your ass and you going crazy with need for your tutor’s cock. Peripherally, you saw Professor Rogers’ hand curl up in a fist, one corner of your lips rising in a smirk.

If you were to suffer, then so could he. It was a bold move, bratty even, one he might punish you for, but you were willing to take the risk, even feeling a tingle in your abdomen at the premise. Would he punish you? How? Were you in for some impatient manhandling today?

Caught up in your musings, you nearly jumped when his hot breath caressed your ear, a whispered promise causing air to get stuck in your throat, your heart speeding up insanely in your chest.

“Patience. Once he’s gone I’m gonna bend you over this desk…”

Your eyes fluttered shut, your mind supplying you with a helpful visual. You could almost feel his hand stroking the back of your thighs, the curve of your ass over your skin-tight dress, your lower back, and roughly pushing between your shoulder blades to trap you against the desk.

“…the German offensive to capture Stalingrad began in August 1942, using the 6th Army and elements of the 4th Panzer Army. The attack was supported by intense Luftwaffe bombing that reduced much of the city to rubble,” he continued the lecture as he straightened again, as if he hadn’t just vowed to get freaky with you.

His hand grazed the back of your chair, painfully close and still so far, moving to your other side, the heat of his body once again teasing you, his mouth an inch from your skin.

“…and fuck you ‘till you can’t walk…”

Your breathing picked up, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, the urge to lick your lips stronger than you. You glanced in Professor Banks’ direction, but there was no way he could hear what his colleague was whispering to your ear, the filthy promises made in between lecturing you about one of the biggest and most important battles of WW II. How could Professor Rogers even focus-

“You certainly have to write this down, Miss Clark—November 19, the Red Army launched Operation Uranus, a two-pronged attack targeting the weaker Romanian and Hungarian armies protecting the 6th Army's flanks.”

“… and ‘till the only thing you remember from this session is my name...”

You couldn’t even make out the words he spoke on normal volume anymore. Your fingers gripped the pen, the echo of sensations from the last week that had haunted you for days ghosting over your skin, your lips, your-

“…and how good my cock feels in your cunt.”

As if on command, your core clenched around nothing, the desperate craving to relieve some of the gradually building desire causing your thighs to rub together on instinct, hoping to create some friction at least. You could imagine Professor Rogers’ pupils dilating at that, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as one simple sentence of yours backfired unexpectedly.

His lips actually brushed over the shell of your ear with his next words, making you suck in air in a sharp inhale.

“You better get yourself ready, ‘cause I won’t waste any time with that.”

You blinked furiously at the statement, your head once again snapping to the other man in the room, who could turn to you any moment, catching you red-handed if you actually went through with it.

No way, no fucking w-

“Did I stutter, Miss Clark?” Professor Rogers hissed irritably and you dared to look at him, shocked to see a wolfish smile, a hungry glint in his eye that filled your stomach with butterflies, causing you to practically drip into the fabric of your dress.

“No, Professor Rogers,” you whispered obediently, your mind racing as you couldn’t make yourself to slip your hand under and just… listen to the command. “I understood.”

He held your gaze as he stepped to your right to partly shield you from view.

Be a good girl, he mouthed, sending a pleasant shudder down your spine, your pussy weeping for him, something inside you begging for you to obey just so you could hear him say it out loud later.

“Then we shall continue. At the beginning of February 1943, the Axis forces in Stalingrad…”

You inhaled shakily, your hand trembling a little as you let it fall from the top of the table, landing on your leg instead, your thumb grazing the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.

Professor Rogers’ eyebrows jumped a fraction, his chin motioning for you to go on, his eyes dark and lustful like a night.

Not daring to cast a single glance at the other man, because he would only make you lose your nerve, you moved your hand under the hem of your dress which was slightly below your mid-thigh, fingers trailing up until they reached the very high thigh-highs you were wearing.

“You seem to be forgetting to take notes, Miss Clark, my patience is truly wearing thin. Let’s move to another battle which was critical for the development of the war, the battle of Bulge…”

The words fell on deaf ears. All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart as your fingers slid right into the slickness pooled at your core; just like he had asked a week ago, there was nothing in the way, no underwear. You nearly whimpered when the tips of your fingers touched your opening, the barely-there contact blissful and yet torturous as you craved so much more.

You could feel his gaze on you, studying every quickened rise and fall of your chest, every single motion of the tendons in your forearm and thighs, flexing when your thumb circled your aching swollen clit, your eyes sliding shut at the tingle that ran through your nerve endings, your forefinger dipping into your cunt. You bit on your lip to stop yourself from releasing the whimper threatening to spill from your lips.

His stupid talk, momentarily empty promises, his voice on your ear, his lips brushing your skin, the light pressure on your clit, the finger moving slowly inside you— it all felt amazing, way too good considering that you knew you weren’t alone, but by God, did it add a tiny bit of a thrill, causing your heart to flutter, your core to burn.

You could still hear Professor Rogers talking, not one of his words registering until his fingertip grazed your collarbone, a breath of ‘such a good girl’ caressing your ear. You gulped, feeling your pussy clench, a shudder running down your spine.

“Go on, make yourself feel good. Add another.”

You had no idea how he knew what you were doing under the fabric, but he retreated again, to talk armies and bloodshed and all you could think off was being the good girl he had proclaimed you, worrying your teeth over your lips strongly enough to draw blood almost, third finger slipping into your heat. Your eyes fluttered open at the sensation, gaze stubbornly fixing on Professor Rogers’ chair, your breathing shallow and quick as you felt the pressure building.

Your mind was turning hazy as you tried to comprehend whether you liked the presence of the unsuspecting professor or were ashamed doing this while he was right there. You massaged your inner walls slowly, carefully despite how much you needed the release at this point, barely moving in or out in the fright of making noise. Your head spun, your thighs trembling softly with your climax nearing, the pleasure on horizon setting your blood on fire.

And then there was a pinch to your shoulder, nearly making you yelp in surprise—but somehow, even in the fog your brain was in, you understood that it was an order to stop and your hand instantly disappeared, curling into a fist on your thigh.

You tried your best to stop the shaking, to ignore the slickness on your fingers, now hopefully hidden in your palm and not on display – and peripherally, you could see Professor Banks rise to his feet, picking up items from his desk.

Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, air caught in your lungs as you attempted to calm yourself just in case he would look at you. As if your sex wasn’t practically pulsing because of the abrupt neglect, so so close to the release you craved.

In a sudden clarity of mind, you swiftly took fresh paper and set in on top of your ‘notes’ and gripped the pen again, seemingly ready to continue writing down important dates and names. You heard Banks steps nearing and you instinctively looked up. You had no idea what face you made, because you had zero control over your mimic muscles, too busy trying not to spontaneously combust.

Whatever he read from your expression, it made him eye his colleague.

“Don’t keep her for much longer, Steven. I’m sure she deserves some fun today too,” the older professor remarked, shooting you an uncharacteristic smile and walked out of the office, his old-fashioned leather case swinging. Professor Rogers’ ‘Don’t worry, Bradley,’ followed him and finally, the door clicked shut behind him, allowing you to release an exhale.

“He has no fucking idea,” you muttered, tossing the damn pen aside, running a hand down your face, while your other one remained curled up in a tight fist.

“Shut you dirty mouth, babygirl,” Professor Rogers hissed, crossing the distance to the door in few long strides, glancing at Banks’ desk to make sure that the man hadn’t forgotten anything he could come back for, and only then locked.

The next thing you knew, you were on your feet, the edge of the hardwood desk digging into your ass, your wrists pinned by his hands.

Your breath was stolen by his mouth, lips taking yours, warm, sweet, soft and demanding, a hungry kiss that had no end, one of your wrists suddenly free as his fingers curled around your nape, tangling in your hair, pushing and pulling, just to get more of you. You submitted easily, gratefully even, blissed out at the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth, taking everything he wanted.

You gasped for air when he withdrew, his forehead resting against yours for a split moment, his touch on you almost tender now, more so when he brought your wrist to his mouth and left a brief kiss on your knuckles, inhaling deeply, causing your face heat up.

“So obedient, such good girl,” he whispered in a husky voice, thick with arousal, and you could swear you were about to burst. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

You were caught between embarrassed and aroused when he pried your fingers open, his tongue tasting your drying juices. Your core clenched in need and as if he could feel it, his hips rutted into yours, his own excitement evident as his cock poked your lower stomach, his mouth once again on yours, your hand trapped between your bodies, his fingers gripping your sides tightly.

“I promised you something, didn’t I?” he mumbled to your mouth.

Recalling just what a vow he had made you with the other man still present, you gladly let him spin you around, manoeuvre you to press your front to his desk with no regard for the notes scattered over it. You instantly missed the warmth of his body, but his hands went to knead the flash of your ass, one sliding to your lower back, the other hiking up your dress.

A groan escaped him at the sight of you bared for him, his foot nudging yours apart, his grip on you tightening, fingers digging into your flesh enough to bruise before they slid lower, dipping into your slickness. His fingertips spread it, circling your clit, nearly causing your knees to buckle at the shot of bliss sent through your veins. A pathetic mewl fell from your lips and you could only imagine the indulgent smile on his face.

“God, look at you, so pretty, so ready for me,” he praised, fingers tracing the lace of your thigh-highs. “I really like these. Good choice…. Hold on tight, babygirl.”

You wasted no time and listened to him, grabbing the edge of the desk as his touch disappeared. You closed your eyes, anticipation building when you heard the tell-tale of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you again and as wrong or right as it was, you couldn’t help yourself, missing him. You knew things weren’t as simple as they could be seen – you noticed the little things, unnecessary tenderness peeking through, showing you that you were more than just a mindless fuck.

His warm palms spread your cheeks almost lovingly, slightly guiding you up so you stood on your tiptoes, bracing on the hardwood desk, so close to beg for him to finally fill you up, so con-

“Oh my-“ you cried out, your thighs clenching when instead of his hard cock nudging your slit, a velvety-soft warmth licked at your opening, eager and hungry, wasting no time and opening you further, the tip of his tongue pushing in, his lips sucking every drop you offered. Blood rushed to your head and to your centre, fingertips tingling, your most sensitive parts feeling like on fire. His beard was a stark contrast to the softness of his tongue, rough sensation making you dizzy. “Prof-“

His fingers applied pressure on your clit again, the circling motions making your head spin, your thighs shake again with the intensity of the approaching orgasm as professor Rogers fucked you with his tongue relentlessly, reaching even deeper, flicking his tongue and driving you absolutely crazy with pleasure.

A cry ripped from your throat as your climax shook your whole world, knees giving out, your fingers weakly clutching at the edge of the desk, your body slack against the wood. And he didn’t stop. He helped you ride it out with vigour, humming against your cunt, sending aftershocks through your veins. Only when he stopped, you felt you could finally breathe— his mouth moved just a fraction, a sting on your inner thigh as he sucked a mark of possession, one he kissed afterwards; even in your haze, a soft warmth enveloped your heart. Not a mindless fuck.

“Sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t help myself…” he muttered to your skin, stroking, squeezing, kissing, moving up and whispering to your hair. Did he just apologize…? “You’re even sweeter than I hoped.”

Your heart fluttered, your hand blindly finding his as it still clutched on your waist. He didn’t retreat, gently squeezing back, knocking the breath out of you when he simultaneously entered you, his whole length in one swift motion, sinking so easily into your weeping cunt.

Professor Rogers moaned as you gasped, your core instinctively clenching around him.

“So tight… so good-“

His hands moved to your hips, his cock driving in and out, slowly at first, letting you feel every inch, his thick member stretching you pleasantly after such delicious preparation.

“Professor Rogers,” you gasped when he hit the right spot, his grip tightening.

“That it, babygirl?” he teased, purposely changing the angle, barely brushing your g-spot with his next thrust. You couldn’t help the mewl of frustration, attempting to shift and help yourself, only to meet with the steely hold he had on you. “Ah-ah, none of that, babygirl… you want more? Want me to make good on my promise?”

You really wanted to sneer at him, to snap, but—God, he moved so right the next moment, giving you another taste of the delicious sensation and you nodded fiercely, only for him to still in his movements, thumbs drawing a circle on your skin.

“Yes,” you voiced your request then, earning a satisfied hum and a tap of his fingers. Words are good, now do better, you almost heard him say and you clenched your jaw in frustration. For God’s sake- “Yes, please.”

“Please what?” he urged you as he rolled his hips lazily, dragging his cock alongside your walls so painfully slow.

You sighed, rocking yours hips just a bit – vainly, again.

“Please, fuck me against the desk… Professor Rogers.”

It worked like a charm, a kiss landing between your clothed shoulder blades.

“Good girl,” he hummed, the praise giving you as much joy as it did to him, apparently. “Brace yourself, sweetheart, I’m not holding back on you. I waited long enough…”

And that he did; the lecture had been a torture until it changed into a different kind of-

The half-unpleasant memory vanished from your mind, quickly replaced by the sensation of his length filling you up again, and again, again, speeding up, angling his hips so he finally hit the spot you craved to have stimulated, driving in and out with force that made you see stars, sharp gasps escaping your lips with each thrust.

You clutched at the table, unable to hold still, trying to meet him halfway, adding to the pleasure that had tears gathering behind your closed eyelids.

“Shit, I’m gonna-“ he groaned and freed one of his hands in favour to take you with him, playing with your clit and making you moan his name as the coil in your abdomen snapped again, causing you clench around him. It tipped him over the edge and you felt him spill into you, some of his seed tickling your opening as he rode his climax out.

You were both breathing heavily as his body laid over yours, the sweat gathering on your forehead and back be damned. You melted into the comfort his weight offered, pleasantly surprised when one of his hands found yours, still on the edge of the desk, fingers interlacing, a wet sloppy kiss landing on the side of your neck.

You could feel him soften inside you, a new sensation that felt strangely intimate, and yet he stayed a little longer.

“Stay right here, babygirl,” he rasped out, the warmth of him disappearing as he stood up fully and pulled out.

You obeyed despite not being sure what was about to happen… your first thought was a photo and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

However, your first thought was wrong.

You heard rustle as he pulled out a wet-wipe, a sharp exhale following – warming it up, you realized later – and then he carefully cleaned you up, soft and wary of how sensitive you were, his mission ending with a brief kiss on the spot where the bitemark was probably already blooming.

“You can get up,” he encouraged you, standing by your side, hands hovering as if ready to catch you.

Now your head spun for a whole different reason. What the hell was happening? What was he doing? What did this mean? You weren’t about to complain in the slightest, but… what.

Professor Rogers was observing you wordlessly, intense gaze you couldn’t hope to understand and you couldn’t help the shame warming up your cheeks, knowing that even with waterproof mascara and quality lipstick, you were far from looking perfect – and still, he appeared to be feasting his eyes on you.

Before you could try and fix it, he caught your hand halfway to your face, planting a kiss on your wrist and reaching for another tissue, taking care of it himself.

You were rendered speechless, eyes wide, lips parted as his own spread in a gentle smile, gaze almost fond as his thumb caressed your cheek.

“Pretty girl,” was all he said, a kiss landing on your forehead, causing your breath to hitch, your eyelashes fluttering as you blinked several times, unable to comprehend.

You were too stunned to say a single word, frozen on spot and yet you could feel your bones melting under his gaze, still unwavering, focused, boring into yours.

Neither of you made an attempt to move – neither of your reached for your handbag so you could be on your way. You just stood there in silence, lost in how incredibly handsome, beautiful he was up-close, finally having time to fully appreciate it – and with the softness of his features, you felt yourself fall for him, caught in the safety net of his kind eyes.

Your mouth opened uselessly and the pad of thumb moved to run over your lips, ending up in the corner of your mouth, raising it in a lopsided smile.

“You called me my first name,” he whispered, effectively bursting your blissful bubble and invading it with horror.

Oh god, you had? When—oh. Oh. Now you recalled it, a tiny bit horrified that you actually called him ‘Steve’ when reaching your peak.

“I’m sor-“

He shook his head and before you could finish, he pulled you in for another kiss, slow, deep and meaningful, his arm curling around your waist as if he couldn’t get you close enough and once again, you weren’t about to complain, placing one palm on his shoulder, the other on the side of his neck instead.

“I liked it,” he breathed to your mouth, pecking your lips once more before releasing you. “I’ll see you next week, Miss Clark.”

You nodded automatically, still stunned by the whole turn of events and accepted the handbag he gently handed you.

“…thanks,” you muttered and let him lead you out of the office.

When he unlocked the door, you readjusted your dress, making sure that in any normal circumstances people could see the lack of your underwear; what a reminder of Professor Rogers – Steve – being no less kinky than the first time, no matter how his demeanour now. You glanced at his face again and lost all remnants of sanity.

You placed your hand on his broad impressive bicep and dropped a light kiss on his cheek, enjoying the tickle of his beard once more.

“I’ll see you,” you echoed his words, meeting his twinkling eyes before walking out of the door.

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Steve had to blink several times as he finished reading, trying to get a grasp on reality again, the words and images still swimming in front of his eyes. He needed few moments to process what he just read for more than one reason; he certainly didn’t feel sleepy as he had naively hoped.

He found the story hot, yeah, he wasn’t kidding himself, he was rock hard and aching, but what took him aback greatly and rendered him speechless was the sentiment. The shift in the relationship, the parts of Steve you got to know that you had implemented into the story with ease, the story in which ‘Miss Clark’ was surprised by the professor’s affection.

Steve read in the words the same astonishment and tender awe he saw in your eyes when you first exchanged ‘I love you’, after he had read the very start of this story for the first time and told you that he loved your mind as well.

Even when he glanced at your form now, so tempting in his bed, practically begging for him to satiate the hunger that your words spurred, it was impossible to ignore the warmth in his chest, his heart suddenly feeling too big for his ribcage.

Delicately placing the pages down, he turned off the lamp and carefully made his way to you, the mattress dipping under his weight, the motion drawing an adorable but barely audible whimper from you. Steve smiled for himself and slid beside you, curling his arms around your form and pulling you to his chest as much as he could without poking you with his hard-on, having decided to ignore it until it went away. He just-- honestly, he wouldn’t say no, but just holding you would suffice tonight.

You melted into his body so trustingly and naturally it made his heart ache and sing at the same time—God, he loved you. Then, as your mind registered that he was technically not supposed to be there, your form stiffened before pressing into him further, curling in his embrace, allowing him to nuzzle his nose in your hair.

“Hi,” you greeted him sleepily, but no less sweetly.

Steve dropped a kiss to the back of your head, his smile widening. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m okay, I’m glad to be home and you can go back to sleep.”

“Mm-mm, thanks for the report.”

You turned your head to catch his lips in a welcome kiss, one Steve wouldn’t refuse in a million years; sleepy, a bit sloppy, but one that tasted like home. Yours. And with both of you smiling into it.

“Welcome back. I missed you.”

He brushed the strand of your hair from your face, kissing you once more at your admission.

“Missed you more.”

Your grin only widened when you rolled over to him fully, tangling your limbs with his and accidently – possibly on purpose – brushing his erection with your thigh. He hissed despite himself and he would swear he could see a glint of mischief in your eyes despite the lack of light in the room.

“Oh, I see how it is, you missed me,” you giggled adorably and Steve couldn’t bring himself to be exasperated at you breaking the magic of the moment. And he certainly didn’t feel like telling you what exactly got him into this state – at least not now.

“Not just like that,” he grumbled and you giggled once more, finding his lips with yours, your hand surprisingly moving to rest on his chest, right over his heart, rather than heading down his torso.

“I’m hopeful,” you whispered, looking up at him from under your eyelashes and even in the dark, Steve felt his heart stutter. God, you were beautiful. Breath-taking. His. “But we should take care of this.”

Your hand slid considerably lower, giving some attention to his aching hard-on, softly curling your fingers around it and stroking and his resolve was slowly – very quickly – turning non-existent.

“I didn’t want to wake you at all. You need to sleep-“ he tried out weakly and you eyed him again, kissing his sternum, still smiling.

“Don’t feel sleepy. And I missed you too. In all the ways possible. I want to feel you, Steve.”

And fuck, he was lost. To your hands, to your lips, to your voice – when did it grow so sultry? –, to the smell of your shampoo and bodywash and your skin and to your damn face he couldn’t even see properly.

“Hey,” he mumbled in a spur of the moment, catching your hand to still your delicate strokes before they clouded his mind completely.

You blinked in an understandable surprise; but he had an important thing to say, simultaneously making a mental note to emphasize it again when telling you he read the second story too.

“Wha-“

“I truly missed you, sweetheart. I love you.”

Your surprise melted into something much softer and Steve couldn’t but meet your lips again, catching a glimpse of that same awe he marvelled at when reading. Your fingers in his hair were an epitome of bliss as you kissed him back with care.

“I love you too, Steve. So much…” you vowed and then there were no more words needed.

Steve devoured your lips, your body, revelling in every soft sigh of his name. And soon worn out after you both tipped over the edge, you fell asleep, tucked under the covers in his arms, the pair of you finally sleeping soundly again after being apart.

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‘One-shot’ Hurtful Words part 1

S.R. masterlist

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Thank you for reading :-*

I felt like I owe it to you, to them and to myself after the story she was writing didn’t get to be read (Steve caught her writing it). I hope you enjoyed :)

I’m thinking one more one-shot, maybe, will see how it goes, I’ll be pretty busy from the next week, so...

299 notes · View notes

florrickandassociates · 3 years

Text

TGF Thoughts: 5x09-- And the end was violent...

It’s been a busy week, but I didn’t want to wait until after 5x10 aired to write this. This recap may be a bit rushed (read: I am going to make an effort to just skip over scenes I don’t care about; we’ll see how many of those there actually are). I didn’t love this episode overall, but I thought it was a huge improvement over 5x08’s parking ticket fiasco and wish it had immediately followed 5x07.

Bless these episodes for not being overly long

Oooh, the opening sequence is long and I have nothing to say about it! Thanks for making my life easier, writers!

The point of this opening is to show that there are lots of problems with the official court system—inefficiencies, inconveniences like broken elevators, overcrowding in prisons (though, uh, I don’t think the actual problem there is that there’s not room to incarcerate more people)-- that might make cops open to an alternative like Wackner’s court.

I know the cop thread kind of started with last week’s parking nonsense, but surely there was a way other than the parking nonsense to bridge the gap between 5x07’s prison system and 5x09’s focus on Wackner’s court suddenly being a replacement for criminal court, too.

(Y’all, I have SO MANY questions about how Wackner can POSSIBLY judge criminal cases, but they’re all just variations on... UH, GUYS, ISN’T THIS ILLEGAL? LIKE SUPER DUPER ILLEGAL?)

I see that there is a filming notice when the cops bring a dude into Wackner’s court, and that the notice says that by entering on the premises you consent to being on film. I do not think that this sign being displayed would hold up as evidence of anyone consenting to be sentenced to a private prison on criminal charges.

New question: How did Wackner Rules get on the air so fast? And are they just filming endless episodes in real time? They just film anyone who walks in?

I think there is supposed to be a subplot about Marissa liking fame and attention; it is almost a little too subtle to be meaningful. I see a through line from her sleeping with that editor dude last week to her smiling at the flowers in this scene to her scenes with Carmen later this episode. Unfortunately, I need a lot more for this to work.

I don’t need Marissa to be a hero who constantly does the right thing and calls out Wackner on crossing the line, but I’m really sad that this is what they’re using Marissa for when we were due for Marissa calling Wackner out (in a meaningful, lasting way) like two episodes ago. It’s felt odd to me that she just sticks around and assists Wackner and Del when they’re doing things like putting people in private prisons and comparing the show they’re making to The Apprentice. Any subtle shift in Wackner’s decisions that has signaled to me that he’s gone too far is something that I can say with certainty would signal the same to Marissa. Marissa’s outspoken and passionate, and we have seen enough reaction shots to know she knows things are going bad, fast. Am I really meant to believe that because she likes Wackner and she likes fame, she’s not going to do anything more substantial than look upset from time to time? Not only does that feel out of character, it’s also just boring.

And, it speaks to another problem I’m starting to have with the arc: they needed to get to the point faster. Once Wackner said “David Cord’s private prison,” this stopped being fun. It would’ve stopped being fun for Marissa and it stopped being fun for viewers (seriously though, the change in tone on Reddit between 5x07 and 5x08/5x09 is VERY noticeable). So why did we follow that up with some repetitive filler bullshit about parking spaces and then start getting back to the point in this episode? I’m sure they’re going somewhere big in 5x10, but you can’t follow an explosive reveal with more status quo.

(Also, lol, I think the parking space thing was meant to be a fun silly absurd little way of entering into themes about authority and Wackner trying to legitimize his court, but it was about an issue so relatable and illogical that I think it feels even harder to believe than the, like, whole concept of a secret court in a Copy Coop.)

Time for Marissa to look concerned again! She’s confused about if the case is real or not, and when Wackner says it’s real, she says it’s not for their court and it’s crossing a line. She is absolutely correct. Wackner’s like, let me know if you think I’m crossing a line after I rule, and then he makes a silly flailing gesture that Marissa can use as a signal.

I actually don’t hate that scene; it is a good scene. I am only snarking on it because it feels like familiar territory and it belonged in an earlier episode.

Am I correctly understanding that these cops wanted to be filmed bringing a man against his will to a fake court with a private prison? And that they wanted this to air on television? Okay.

I will say that I believe the motivations of everyone involved except Marissa. Wackner thinks he’s doing good for the world. Del is getting good TV (I mean, I still think that Wackner Rules title sequence is shit and the show Del seems to be making is terrible, but that’s besides the point). Cord has so much money he’s untouchable and this is fun for him. The cops just don’t want to deal with bureaucracy when it comes to someone who they basically caught in the act.

Court! Stuff! Happens!

Wackner sentences the guy to one year in “David Cord’s private prison.” Again, I know they have to say this for exposition/storytelling reasons, but I continue to find it hilarious that David Cord would want his name to be used in this way (because he like, absolutely would not want his name to be used this way).

The cops like Wackner’s verdict so they tell all their friends to also take their cases to Wackner. What could possibly go wrong!

Like, yeah, there are problems with the criminal justice system—and some of them are even the ones these cops are mad about—but this is ABSOLUTELY not the answer!!! You cannot just take people off the streets and place them in private prisons because they were forced to enter a filming zone for a TV show what the actual fuck

Love David Lee still having candy on his desk. Some things never change.

Allegra, who was welcomed by the partners of RL last week, is interviewing for a job with David Lee. I don’t understand. Doesn’t David Lee have to approve new partners at RL?

Please don’t mention real estate on Mars, Allegra. You’ve made me think of Jason and how bad season seven was.

Allegra is feeling a bit different from Elsbeth this episode, though she very much still has some Elsbeth energy. She is very strategic and blunt in a way Elsbeth isn’t, and she seems a little more focused and intense.

“I notice, in a partisan world, the person in the middle controls the agenda,” Allegra says of her alliances with both Liz and Diane. This is interesting. What are Allegra’s goals here? Just to have power? Does she have a vision for RL? Is it just a good paycheck?

(My guess is it’s about power and money for her. I don’t think she is going to be the ally Madeline wants. I don’t think anyone who voluntarily signs up to be a name partner at a firm owned by corporate overlords is a natural ally for Madeline though, tbh.)

(I really hoped this arc would explore that just a tiny bit more. The longer this conflict drags on the more convinced I become that the whole question of if it’s appropriate for Diane to lead a black firm is moot. It’s an interesting and complicated question, but with some distance from the plot, it becomes pretty clear that in this particular situation, RL isn’t a black firm. It’s a subsidiary of a large multinational corporation.)

(The show seems very aware of this and keeps having plot points like Diane using David Lee to keep her job and having Madeline call out all the awful clients they have... but it needs to go somewhere.)

(This also may be why I’m more down on the end of the season—in the middle of the season, nods at the things I’ve been thinking are appreciated references. At the end, they’re more like plotholes or reminders of the questions we should actually be spending time on.)

“Are you shitting me?” David Lee storms into the room as Liz and Diane are working. “David, we are shitting you about so many things, you’re gonna have to be more specific,” Liz responds. God, funny!Liz is maybe my favorite part of season 5?

Liz calls David out on his power, noting that he also reports to STR Laurie. So it seems like Liz and Diane can make decisions on their own, and STR Laurie can overrule them, but not stop them in advance?

This little ad about an ice cream chain is like, 15 seconds too long.

Carmen is back!!!! She’s helping Rivi sign a deal with an ice cream chain so that they’ll turn into a distributor of weed.

Why do we have to watch a SECOND commercial?

The farm wants Rivi to stop dealing other drugs if they’re going to enter into this deal.

Allegra, another character who seemingly has no qualms about representing drug kingpins, quickly impresses Rivi.

I understand why there is an interpreter for Rivi’s wife. I do not understand why the interpreter interprets conversations BETWEEN Rivi and his wife. And then he’s translating the sign language into Spanish? But also Rivi speaks fluent English in half of these scenes? WHAT is happening?

Allegra is also different from Elsbeth in that with clients, you’re NEVER going to underestimate her. You might not follow her at first, but she’ll get to the point clearly and concisely and without telling you how much she likes your lipstick.

But like at 13:44 Rivi signs something to his wife, and when she signs back the interpreter tells him what she’s saying. This is so so so clearly for the audience but I wish it had just been captions because it makes NO SENSE that the interpreter is in on this private conversation between two people who both know sign language!?

Rivi and Isabel now LOVE Allegra. Diane and Liz are like, okay!

Cop stuff happens.

Credits!!! If you haven’t already, be sure to check out indiewire’s piece on the making of the credits—it's fascinating.

Brooke directed 😀

Marissa the celebrity is signing autographs in Wackner’s court when the cops bring in some young men affiliated with Rivi.

NO, GOD NO, NOT THIS DEVIL’S ADVOCATE FUCKERY. The problem I have with the Devil’s Advocate, in addition to it being fucking annoying, is that it is also the exact opposite of what Wackner’s court is all about. Wackner is about facts and really hearing people out, and from what we’ve seen, Devil’s Advocate is about... stereotypes and pop sociology so bad it’s essentially just racism?

“These young men are the victims of a system that arbitrarily declares some drugs illegal, and others, like alcohol, not. They should be released. To hold them is to perpetuate an unfair system,” Devil’s Advocate says. Good lord, a 7th grader could write a more persuasive speech than this bullshit.

WHY IS DAVID CORD PROSECUTING THIS, WHY IS THE TRIAL ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT DRUGS HARM COMMUNITIES, WHY IS THE DEVIL’S ADVOCATE SOUNDING LIKE A WHITE BOY IN AN INTRO TO SOCIOLOGY CLASS WITH HIS REFERENCES TO THE WIRE, WHY IS ANY OF THIS HAPPENING OMG MAKE IT STOP HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS IS BAD

Why is Marissa the court clerk being called upon to be defense, WHY IS THE DEVIL’S ADVOCATE JUST SCREAMING “DEFUND THE POLICE” WHAT THE FUCK

I’m sorry, I am going to rant about this more, I truly cannot get over how fucking stupid the Devil’s Advocate is. He just starts screaming “defund the police”??? To what end?! Why does Wackner want this in his court?!

I revise what I said earlier. Devil’s Advocate isn’t just sounding a white boy in an intro to sociology class. He is sounding like a white boy who showed up to an intro to sociology class absolutely hammered.

Marissa, correctly, argues that the arrestees should be taken to Cook County. Then she hears that they work for Rivi and she knows this is bad.

Cord calling Marissa out for her firm representing Rivi: Another thing that would NEVER air on Wackner Rules.

David Lee seems surprised Liz and Diane did not get rid of Allegra. I don’t know why he is surprised, I think they made it very clear they don’t see him as an authority figure.

STR Laurie is now demanding (another) 10% in cuts to pay for Allegra. Liz says they’ll pay for her with the money that used to be for Adrian and Diane notes that Allegra has more stature than Adrian. Interesting.

David Lee then decides to be both sexist and racist for really no reason at all. Pleasant!

Showing Carmen as competent but not yet as strategic as Allegra is a really nice way to underline that Carmen is still a first year even if she is very very good.

Liz, Diane, and Allegra talk about cost cutting. Allegra is like, no, we need to spend more, which makes sense, both for the reasons she outlines and because when you bring on a powerful name partner, your need for lower level support does not DECREASE, it INCREASES.

I know this scene is meant to show Allegra thinking outside the box, but I am a bit surprised that (1) Neither Liz nor Diane push back on the 10% cut and (2) When Allegra suggests hiring back all the associates and then some, Diane seems to think Allegra doesn’t understand they’re talking about cuts? Like, obviously she knows the topic of conversation, Diane.

“We don’t run our own business. We work for a global conglomerate,” Liz notes. Yup. Right point, wrong context lol.

Diane and Liz are just too smart and strategic to have to be told ALL of this by Allegra... especially Diane, who is not only smart but also used to dealing with management.

And worse... Liz and Diane think they made a mistake with Allegra because of this? I mean, I guess if your goal is to permanently work for a big corporation that will slowly chip away at your budget because they can and to never make any waves because that might disrupt the status quo, sure, Allegra isn’t who you want! But do Diane and Liz REALLY want the status quo?

I hope they find a way out from under STR Laurie next year, as much as I hate the firm switching, because it’s just such a boring dead-end when Diane and Liz don’t actually have power or control.

OOOH I like Del asking Liz what SHE wants wrt the whole Diane situation. She says she wants to “stop fighting” and for Diane to “stop using her racist clients to keep her job” and for “the firm to be led in the right way by the right people.” So sounds like she wants to work with Diane, then? That last one is as vague as can be, but I think we can infer at this point that Liz is more concerned with stability and a work environment she likes than idealism.

God, Liz and Alicia would’ve gotten along so well as adults lmao.

Del tells Liz that “women at work always want to be thought of as nice. Women always want consensus. But you know what, baby, sometimes you just gotta say, ‘Fuck you, and you and you and you. Alright? This is my business and it’s my decision.’” I see where he’s coming from (even though this sounds like something my nemesis the Devil’s Advocate would say) but I am not sure I agree that’s Liz’s problem here.

Actually, maybe I do agree with Del. I think Del’s saying to say FU to Diane, but what Liz clearly actually wants to do is say FU to Madeline lol

Liz asks him to change the topic. Where ARE they? Is this a restaurant or an incredibly nice backyard?

Del changes the topic to how his boss wants him to come back to LA, but he wants to get Liz’s thoughts on their future. Liz asks him to start since men are better at saying what they mean (ha, love her giving him shit for that).

He basically tells her he wants to stay and she says he should stay. Aww.

Rivi’s house is... certainly something.

Isabel is concerned because three of their boys have disappeared. She, naturally, suspects they’re at police blacksites.

I’m sorry, did Marissa not elevate the Rivi case in Wackner’s court to the partners’ attention!? Rivi blames the dairy company, even though this does not... make that much sense?

This escalates into the murder of cows?? What... the fuck.

Now Marissa finds Carmen and loops her in! But only now that she knows Rivi’s looking for them and Rivi’s about to, like, kill Christian Borle’s character whose name I’ve forgotten.

Marissa’s position on this is that Wackner will just let the boys go so Rivi shouldn’t know about any of this. Rivi would just kill Wackner. And Carmen is like, Rivi will just kill Christian Borle if we don’t tell. Fair point.

Carmen, being an actual adult (sorry Marissa, I usually love you), is willing to admit when she’s in over her head, so she walks off to go get Liz for help. Yay!

Rivi is not impressed with Wackner’s court or Marissa. He and Isabel want either Carmen or Allegra. Liz says Carmen will do it, I think meaning Marissa will do it but Carmen will be client facing.

I love it when we get to see Liz just be super competent. It’s not a rare occurrence, but it’s just very, very clear in this scene how much better Liz is at handling this situation than Carmen or Marissa would’ve been and I like it when the show makes time to emphasize that even on a show full of hypercompetent people, some people are more skilled than others at handling some situations.

Liz, Diane, and David meet with STRL over Zoom. Allegra somehow pops up on the meeting but also joins as a cat because you know what the cat lawyer on Zoom needed? To be parodied on TGF. Ugh

OH MY GOD I DIDN’T PUT THIS TOGETHER SOONER BUT IT’S A CAT LAWYER YOU GUYS. This will mean NOTHING to any of you because it’s about an inside joke I have with the friend who got me into TGW, but indulge me in a little nostalgia here, ‘kay? So in like 2012, there was a trend on Tumblr where everyone would photoshop cat ears onto their favorite TV characters and my friend and I were like, why would I want to put cat ears on my favorite character, idgi. So then we started photoshopping cat ears on to the most unlikely characters and we landed on David Lee. We referred to David Lee as a cat for a really long time. Like, if we were to talk about David Lee today we would probably still call him Cat! David Lee.

Allegra starts trying to work her magic on STRL. Diane literally runs down the stairs to try to stop Allegra. I am not sure why Diane and Liz are so anti-Allegra during this conversation which is only happening so they can have the funds to keep her on board!

Allegra tries to share a burrito with Diane and Liz and says she stands by her strategy. Liz finally says she’s not sure this will work. Allegra is understanding.

I respect that. Allegra may as well go all out and see if she can make this workable.

(That said, this is pretty much the opposite of her whole staying neutral thing from earlier!)

No one is in the audience at Wackner’s court when Carmen shows up, yet the musician who I like only very slightly more than Devil’s Advocate is still on call. Just STOP.

Overall I’ve liked the Wackner arc and I’m excited to see it wrap up tomorrow, but lemme tell you: it had better wrap up tomorrow. I am NOT open to dealing with this for another season.

The musician takes orders from Cord? The cameras are rolling? Rivi is there? WHAT?

I know that NONE of this makes sense, but some things make exceptionally little sense and I just can’t.

Guys, remember the parking tickets?!

Oh, excuse me, the ice cream company is actually a yogurt company.

Rivi notes that there are three boys missing. Wackner only has two.

I am a little surprised Rivi has managed to be successful with that temper. Idk what skill set you need to be a top drug dealer, but he attacks people like three times an episode and that seems like a really good way to not build trust and to also get yourself killed?

Liz and Del talk about what happened in Wackner’s court. Liz asks how they deal with liability. I guess she isn’t Del’s lawyer, then. Del says they have releases and people want to be on TV. Liz says what I’ve been saying, which is that Rivi doesn’t want to be on TV. Del says there are ways around that and references the show Cops as though that’s enough to make this question go completely away.

Liz references The Apprentice, for those of us who didn’t catch the reference last week and/or for those of us (me!) who wanted to pretend that Wackner wasn’t somehow a commentary on Trump and star power. Ugh.

(I don’t necessarily think it’s a bad point, I just am not sure that I think it is the most interesting point about the Wackner plot.)

“Remember how we all watched and laughed and thought it was funny when they fired people?” Liz says. “We? No, no. Hmm, you... you never watched The Apprentice,” Del responds. She did not. Hahahahahaha I love this exchange. It feels very real.

Liz seems less concerned with Wackner and more concerned with Del’s eagerness to turn Wackner into a larger than life personality with a devoted following, which, yes, thank you, Liz, this is actually a much better and more interesting point!

“That came out of nowhere,” Del says. “No, it didn’t,” Liz responds, correctly.

Del talks about how Liz represents Wackner, along with murderers, rapists, drug dealers, and yet she wants to draw the line at reality show producer who makes people famous? He’s got a point, even if I’d argue that choosing a romantic partner is not the same as running a business.

“Would your firm turn down [the producer of The Apprentice] if he wanted to join the roster?” Del asks. “Good point,” Liz sighs, resigned. She’s not happy he’s right, but she knows he is.

Sigh. I already said some variation of this, but this season seems to have all the right ideas floating around, it’s just choosing the wrong ones to explore deeply and the wrong moments to mention other ones. Things like Liz worrying that someone she’s considering starting a serious relationship with might have some personality traits she doesn’t love can be done through throwaway lines that quickly come back to being about work/plot (that’s what happens in this scene, basically) and I love that. But the existence of STRL and the influence it has over whether or not RL is a black firm at some point can’t be dealt with through references. Wackner becoming increasingly off the rails can’t be turned down to a simmer after reaching boiling point. RL’s unsavory client’s can’t just come up in moments like this; they have to play into a central conflict.

Like, what good is it to constantly remind the audience that RL represents a ton of “bad guys” if you’re not going to go anywhere with that other than making Liz and Diane occasionally be like, “hmm, good point.” when called out on their client list? This could be a really, really good piece of a larger puzzle about the culture at RL, and instead it feels like it’s a card they play whenever they need some moral complexity. Just... go somewhere with it, please. Either stop pretending that RL are the good guys or have them seriously deal with their client list.

Anyway, then Liz and Del talk about his possible LA move. It’s kinda inconclusive; they talk about work just being work.

Outside of court, Carmen doesn’t believe that Wackner only has two of Rivi’s boys.

“I don’t know why you’ve been wasting so much time with this joke court, because it’s not gonna magically turn you into a real lawyer, Marissa,” Carmen lashes out. Oooo. Now this is interesting, can I have an extended version of this scene and also all the other Carmen/Marissa scenes that we should’ve gotten in the episodes Carmen was barely in?

I understand Carmen’s frustration, especially since I imagine she worked pretty damn hard to get into/get through law school. And, as fun and smart as Marissa can be, she does get bored easily, try to skip over the dull moments, and moves on and still always lands on her feet. I can see how that would rub Carmen the wrong way, especially during a stressful moment.

Carmen isn’t exactly a rule follower, but I’d say she is someone who is very conscious of the rules, and, I think someone who values structure more than she lets on (I especially see this in her decision to stay at RL instead of work independently/with Lester).

Marissa calls Jay for help!

Allegra talks to David Lee, with Liz and Diane in the background. Allegra makes her argument to David Lee again and it goes over well. I think the writers think there’s more suspense in this plot than there is; it’s pretty obvious from the start that Allegra is correct and Diane and Liz are only correct if the goal is to avoid all conflict.

What is David Lee’s role at STRL? Is there anything else in that office besides awful HR and RL? He talks like he is more RL than STRL and that doesn’t track with what we saw of STRL last year.

Marissa spots a flyer that leads her and Jay to where the missing boy is: another fake court. This was inevitable—I think one of the very first things I said was that Wackner himself seemed fine and decent, but what happens when someone else decides they, too, want to be a judge because they said so—and I’m glad to see the writers go this direction. I actually think this would’ve been an effective build after 5x07 and would’ve kept turning up the tension, so again, most of my issues with this arc lie in 5x08’s momentum killing bullshit. It’s hard to get back into this plot when they lost me last week.

Shocker: Wackner having a reality show inspired more copy cats who take cues from the show and think Marissa is a celebrity.

Vinetta, the judge of the second court, puts people in “time-out” (read: imprisons them in her basement) and... yeah, I don’t care how kind she is to them, this is not okay! The solution to the prison system is not for people to turn their basements into prisons!

I don’t know that the writers are TRYING to comment on this here, but there is definitely something to be said about communities that the legal system repeatedly fails finding alternative measures of justice.

Vinetta is nice and seems reasonable as a judge, but she also has a basement prison her judgments are influenced by her religious believes so, uh, yeah, not good!!!

Wackner, however, thinks Vinetta’s court is GREAT! He wants to go see it, because “it’s finally happening.” What’s happening? “Justice,” he says. Uhhhhhhh, no. This is just so dangerous, even if everyone involved so far seems to mean well.

I’m very curious to see how this little thought experiment wraps up (again: I say wraps up because I cannot deal with the thought of this being more than a one season arc).

One thing I love about the Wackner arc—my 5x08 issues aside—is its slow burn. The writers did a phenomenal job of getting me to take Wackner seriously at first, then slowly started to take all the things that seemed great and reasonable about Wackner’s court to their extremes (while still making his judgment on any individual topic* sound). It’s a very fun and entertaining thought experiment, and I think that’s why this arc has largely succeeded for me, even though it’s so far removed from reality.

* Exceptions to this include policing, prisons, cancel culture, and, of course, parking spaces.

#the good fight #tgf thoughts

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years

Text

Fool’s Rush In

Part 3

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles prompt #52: Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don't think it will help (It is highlighted in bold).

Series Premise: With two weeks until Liam is to marry Madeleine, the guys throw him a bachelor party in Vegas. After a drunken night, he finds himself with way more than he bargained for.

You can find the previous chapters here.

MC did not exist in Liam’s social season. OC Riley Brooks lives in Las Vegas.

Pairing: Liam x OC

Book: The Royal Romance

A/N: This is an 18 plus series. There is mention of an STD, so if that is a trigger … might not want to read.

A/N: Thanks to @burnsoslow and @choiceskatie for snippet reading. And Burnsy and @jessiembruno for suggestions.

Word Count: 1752

Permanent Tags: @emceesynonymroll @romanticatheart-posts @burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @drakesensworld @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @pedudley @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @desireepow-1986 @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @blueaster-blog1 @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234

Series Tags: @princessleac1 @cordonia-continued @sanchita012 @shz256 @cordonia-gothqueen @narrytheworld @graceful-leah @mom2000aggie @queenwalton @tinkie1973 @muchkoolermk

*I only tag those who ask for it. Let me know if you want added or removed.

**Be kind: hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy 💗

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Standing in the bathroom of the hotel's penthouse they shared with friends, Maxwell broke the news to a stunned Drake about his ... unfortunate condition.

"What're you gonna do about them, Drake?"

Frustrated, Drake ran a hand down his face, wanting to be anywhere but with Maxwell at that precise moment. "I don't know, Maxwell," he spat. "This is my first crabbing!"

"Maybe we can have a doctor look at them. Get some ... I don't know ... kind of comb or poison or something."

He pulled his pants back up and groaned. "I just need a drink."

Maxwell followed Drake out of the bathroom, keeping a good distance from his friend. "Sure, alcohol solves most problems, but in this particular case, I don't think it will help."

Liam and Leo sat on the sofa watching the Instagram posting of the wedding ceremony as the duo walked by.

A disgruntled Liam stood and gestured to the laptop on the coffee table. "Maxwell! Why the hell did you post this? Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Drake was already out the door headed for the hotel bar. Maxwell never broke stride as he trailed. "No time to talk, Li. Got an STD emergency."

The door slammed with a jarring thud. Liam turned back to Leo with a confused look. "What was that?"

"Sounds like the Drakester didn't wrap it up," Leo chuckled while sippng on a capri-sun, while never taking his attention away from the screen. "Oh! Oh!" He waved his younger brother over with excitement. "This is the part where you sang, Moves Like Jagger, to Riley during the ceremony."

They both listened in as Liam's garbled voice reverberated from the speakers watching the King grind fervently against his bride. "Take me by the tongue, and I'll know you. Kiss me 'til you're drunk, and I'll show you all the moves like Liam. I've got the moves like Liam. I've got the moooOoooOooOooves like Liam."

Liam's hands flew in the air out of bewilderment. "I don't even know that fucking song!"

Leo slurped through his little yellow straw then replied, "I think you do. Videos don't lie, Liam."

A haste knock interrupted their viewing; Liam answered the door, surprised to see Riley.

The frantic woman held her phone up to his face. "Do you want to explain why I'm all over the internet with you, Elvis, and this … this monkey? Also, it says we got married?"

Leo bolted from the sofa. "Hey! That monkey has a name, you know.”

"Not now, Leo," Liam grumbled.

Riley leaned to get a better look at the sandy-haired blond who was approaching the door. "Who are you?"

Stepping in front of his brother with a hand extended, he flashed his signature grin. "I'm Leo, your new brother-in-law. But only by half because my mom left me. Then I got a new mommy: Liam's mom -- then she died. Then we both got another new mom. Wait … is Regina still alive? Oh my god! Tell me we still have a mom, Liam!"

"Leo! Get the hell out of here!"

He huffed. "Fine. I'll go make a sandwich. You want one sis?"

Riley shook her head.

Liam gave her an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry about him. Please come in." He stepped aside and offered her a seat on the sofa.

She couldn't help but notice the laptop on the table paused on their abrupt ceremony. It was apparent to her that Liam was trying desperately to get his own answers.

Liam pushed the laptop aside and sat across from her on the table; his elbows rested on his thighs as he sat forward. He let out a heavy exhale. "I suppose we have a lot to talk about."

"Yes, we do. What is all of this? And you're a King? Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I am. It's a small country in the Mediterranean -- Cordonia. And I couldn't tell you because my head guard wouldn't allow me to come on this trip without him unless I remained discreet about my identity."

Riley regarded him thoughtfully. "I suppose that makes sense."

Leo handed her a Capri-Sun with the straw already pushed in. She took it hesitantly and thanked him. "I guess I just need to know how we ended up married to one another last night?"

Liam's remorseful eyes idled up to his brother, who was now standing next to him, eating a turkey and Frito's sandwich. "According to my brother here, whose heart is bigger than his brain, I called him and asked him to marry us."

Leo shook his head. "That's true, Riley. It's all Liam's fault."

Liam rolled his eyes. "Leo, why don't you go check on Drake and Max."

"Fuck that! Drake ain't got nothing I wanna be checking on right now."

"No, stay," Riley pleaded. "You seem to be the only one who knows what happened last night. Can you tell me everything, please?"

Leo gave Liam an arrogant smirk before falling back onto the sofa beside Riley.

"I'll tell you everything, but you two have to promise to name your firstborn after it's Uncle Leo."

Liam dropped his head into his hands. "Leo, dammit."

Leo nudged Riley in the side and leaned into her. "Your husband's an asshole. Probably inherited from our daddy. If he ever makes you drink from a wine goblet, you should probably run."

Riley patted his knee like a child and spoke softly, assuming at this point he was a mental case. "Leo, sweetie, can you just tell me what happened last night, please."

"Well, as I told Liam, I was getting my prostate milked from hot Nurse Trisha at the bank. I just needed change for a twenty, but they said I had to make a deposit first. They even give you porn in this private room. So she's two fingers deep when I get a call from Liam, who was as drunk as Cooter Brown at a church picnic and said he needed me to come down to that Graceland Chapel because he was getting married. So after I sputtered in the little cup, I left in such a hurry I didn't get my change, but I called Drake and Max and told them they had to meet us at the chapel."

Riley cocked her head. "Why was a monkey there?"

"Oh, that's Mongo, the ring bearer. And if you pulled on his nipples, he'd hump your legs and give you a quick reach around. The coolest fucking monkey I ever knew."

Riley snapped a wide-eyed stare at Liam, who just shrugged at her and said, "I ... I've got nothing."

Leo bit into his sandwich. The crunch from the mound of Fritos could be heard in the casino fifty-one stories below. "You know, Liam --" He smacked his lips a few times. "Now that you're married to sis, you don't have to marry Maddie. You can have the wife and Queen you've always wanted. And judging by the noises I heard coming from your room last night, she makes you very happy."

Riley chuckled, slightly embarrassed, while Liam stood and walked to the wet bar for a drink and some distance.

"Leo, I appreciate the thought," he said while pouring a tumbler of scotch. "But Riley and I are just strangers who had a good time, but made a huge mistake." Liam took a sip of his drink and walked back to the sofa. "Don't worry about anything, Riley. I will take care of the annulment in Cordonia and here in the states."

She smiled. "I would appreciate that. Thank you."

Leo tossed his sandwich on the table. "No! Liam, man, this is your chance to be free. You came to Vegas and hit the jackpot. And maybe you two kids are strangers now, but there's no reason why you couldn't get to know each other and fall madly in love. You already know you'll never love Mads. And then at the end of the day, I'd be the big sexy cupid who made it all possible."

It surprised Liam that his brother's suggestion tempted him... and that Leo actually made a coherent suggestion. He sighed. "I don't think so, Leo."

Riley looked between the two men, who seemed to have a stare down over the logic of this idea. She liked Liam; he was the handsome, mysterious guy that she had always dreamed of meeting. She took a long drink of her juice and sat it on the table. "I think I will go, now. Is there anything you need from me, Liam, to quicken the annulment?"

"If you could write your contact information down in case my lawyer has questions, that would be great. I'll be sure you receive copies of everything as soon as possible."

Riley pulled a notepad and a pen from her purse as Leo walked over to Liam to debate further. "Don't do this little brother. Don't you do it. We can't afford to lose another member of our family. First it was daddy, then Regina, now Riley. I can't take it, Liam."

Liam placed a hand on Leo's shoulder. "It's done, Leo. And ... Regina is alive. You just spoke to her yesterday."

Leo's head dropped back with a heavy sigh of relief. "Oh, thank god."

"Here ya go, Liam." Riley stood and handed the paper to him and grabbed her purse from the sofa.

Leo clutched both of her shoulders and shook them. "Please, Riley, don't go. Don’t leave my brother an orphan. You're the Queen of Cordonia now. Think of the people!"

Riley snorted from just the thought. "I know nothing about being a queen. I doubt I would have anything to offer your little country."

"Liam could teach you! Hell, I can teach you, too. I'm the smartest one in the family. You'll be bossing people around in no time."

"That's very kind of you, but I think I like my little life just fine here in Vegas, bossing kids around the classroom all day." She patted his arm endearingly and walked past him toward the door.

Liam stood there, watching her walk away while the words of his brother replayed heavily through his mind. Nothing made sense; he was sad that she was leaving, knowing that it was completely irrational to feel that way. Leo was right, though: this was his chance to be free, and even if it didn't work out in the end, it could buy him time to find the one he would love and have the family he always wanted.

He turned away and walked back to the wet bar to pour another drink; he wouldn't be selfish and ask this complete stranger to give up her life for him.

With his back turned, he closed his eyes when he heard Riley speak her goodbyes and opened the door.

A familiar voice rang out that shook him to his core, and he whipped around to see his current wife stopped at the door by his future one.

"Oh, you must be the one who thinks she can steal my crown."

#Fools Rush In #king liam #choices liam x mc #liam x riley #liam x mc #the royal romance #prince leo #choices fanfiction #trr #bbrandy2002 #wackydrabbles

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