#exits out of my units-staring-at-me screens

[fisheito]

Looking around the user interface in awe Wow lookit all these fancy renovations!!! We got so many new filters abdLOMUY MYHIF GLOB

Why the adoDOKK THEY SO CUTE?!!?,,???

Ehehje yakumorb

Oh i don't get jumpscared by eiden titti in the intimacy rooms anymore but NoW i HAVE TO SEE HIS sTUPID POINT BLANK SMILE?

...why are the first two rows so... i don't like the lack of variety going on ..

[kathlare]

double tap disaster

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando Norris spends Christmas Eve with his family, but his mind keeps drifting to Amelie. When he accidentally likes a beach photo of hers on Instagram, a seemingly harmless mistake spirals into a panic as he scrambles to undo it before anyone notices.

Wordcount: 1.2 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

December 24th, 2021 - London, United Kingdom

liked by kit.connor, landonorris, and others

ameliedayman: back home for christmas 🎄✨ turns out the beach is still hot, the food is still elite, and i’m still the family favorite 😌

View all 5,482 comments

charles_leclerc: You forgot to mention the ocean is boiling now too. → ameliedayman: @charles_leclerc don’t be shy, just say you miss me 😌

madisonbeer: i’m convinced you were sculpted by the gods. unfair. → ameliedayman: @madisonbeer tell them to give me a tan that lasts longer then 🙄

jackdayman: Mum said stop posting thirst traps, it’s embarrassing. → ameliedayman: @jackdayman mum also said you’re not funny, but here we are 🤷‍♀️

lanation44: THE WAY SHE JUST CASUALLY DROPPED THIS BOMB ON US??? MA’AM, WE CAN’T BREATHE.

mxmexican: i’m filing a complaint bc how is it legal to be this hot?? → sunsetmelie: @mxmexican respectfully, i’m on my knees.

elysiadayman: wow, can’t believe i’m related to this. → ameliedayman: @elysiadayman u mean perfection? yeah, crazy.

lilacvibes: my toxic trait is thinking i could pull amelie.

mickschumacher: Not even the sun is shining that bright ☀️ → ameliedayman: @mickschumacher poet era??? omg

lovingamelie: my wife. my queen. my reason for living.

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

Lando stretched out on the couch, legs crossed at the ankles, absentmindedly watching Home Alone while his family chattered around him. His mum had insisted on putting on a "Christmas classic," but honestly, he wasn’t paying much attention. His phone was in his hand, screen dimly lit, thumb mindlessly scrolling through Instagram.

It had been a long day—Christmas Eve at home always was. His mum buzzing around, making sure everything was perfect, his younger siblings running around in excitement, and his dad attempting to keep some level of order. It was warm, familiar, and exactly what he needed. But despite the comfort of being home, his mind kept drifting elsewhere.

To her.

It was stupid. He knew that. It had been months—more than half a year, actually—since they last spoke, and even longer since things between them were good. Lando found himself on Amelie’s Instagram.

She had posted earlier today.

A beach photo.

Lando's fingers hovered over the screen as he took it in.

She was sitting on the sand, legs stretched out in front of her, skin sun-kissed and glowing under the golden Mexican sun. Her pink bikini stood out against the warm tones of the beach, the fabric hugging her body in a way that made his stomach tighten. Her hair was styled in two neat braids, and she had that effortless, relaxed look about her—one he had seen a hundred times before but still managed to make his chest ache.

She looked happy. Peaceful. Untouchable.

And he hated that it still got to him.

Lando bit the inside of his cheek, hesitating before tapping the comments. They were flooded with heart emojis, compliments, and a fair share of thirsty replies—some in Spanish, some in English. He skimmed through them, jaw tightening at a few particularly bold ones.

Right. Because that’s what he needed to be doing on Christmas Eve—getting pissed over some random guy calling her “mi amor” in the comments.

He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head at himself. He should exit out, close Instagram, and focus on the movie.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his thumb absentmindedly hovered over the screen, and before he could even process what he was doing...

Double tap.

The little heart turned red.

Lando froze.

For a second, he stared at the screen, waiting, hoping that maybe—maybe—he imagined it. But no, his name was there, clear as day.

Lando Norris liked this post.

—Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.—

Panic slammed into his chest. His body moved before his brain fully caught up, bolting upright so fast that he nearly knocked over the bowl of popcorn on the table. His mum shot him a questioning glance, but he barely registered it.

He needed to undo it. Now.

Fumbling with his phone, he bolted out of the living room, ignoring his dad’s confused “What’s going on with you?” as he took the stairs two at a time.

—No, no, no, no, no. Fucking hell, you absolute idiot.—

Reaching his bedroom, he slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against it, heart pounding. His fingers scrambled over the screen as he reopened Instagram, tapping on the post.

The like was still there.

—Delete. DELETE.—

Just as his thumb hovered over the heart, his phone screen went black.

Lando blinked.

No. No fucking way.

He pressed the power button. Nothing.

—No, no, no, no, no, NO.—

His phone was dead.

—You have got to be shitting me.—

He threw his head back against the door, staring at the ceiling in sheer panic. He needed a charger. Now. He needed to undo the like before anyone saw it, before Twitter got a hold of it, before someone took a goddamn screenshot.

—Fucking hell.—

Lando tore through his room like a madman, pulling open drawers, yanking blankets off his bed, rummaging through his duffel bag. Where the fuck was his charger? He always kept one in his nightstand—except, of course, when he actually needed it.

—Think, Lando, THINK.—

He rushed to his desk, throwing papers and random cables aside, but his charger was nowhere to be found. His breathing was quick, panicked, hands trembling as he ran a frustrated hand through his curls.

—Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.—

He darted back out into the hallway, nearly colliding with his younger sister.

—Lando!— Flo huffed, clutching onto the railing. —What are you doing?—

—No time,— he mumbled, brushing past her and sprinting downstairs. His mum called something after him, but he wasn’t listening. His brain was on autopilot.

Charger. Find a charger.

He darted into the kitchen, yanking open drawers. Nothing. Living room? He scanned the area, but his siblings were sprawled across the couch, tangled in blankets. He didn’t have time to dig through their mess.

—Think, think, THINK.—

The guest room. His cousins were staying over, and they always left their shit everywhere. Without hesitation, he rushed down the hall and flung the door open. Sure enough, there it was—an iPhone charger plugged into the wall, abandoned.

—Thank fuck.—

He lunged for it, nearly tripping over a suitcase in the process, before bolting back to his room and slamming the door shut behind him.

His hands were shaking as he plugged his phone in, eyes locked onto the screen, silently begging it to turn on faster.

—Come on, come on, COME ON.—

The Apple logo appeared. Lando swore he had never been so relieved to see it.

His knee bounced impatiently as he waited, fingers drumming against his leg. The second his lock screen appeared, he unlocked it, rushing back to Instagram.

He tapped onto Amelie’s profile, her post still staring him right in the face. His heart was racing as he pressed the heart again, removing the like.

For a second, he let out a breath, relief washing over him.

And then...

Lando Norris likes Amelie Dayman’s post.

Trending.

Lando felt the blood drain from his face.

—Oh, for fuck’s sake.—

Twitter had exploded. Screenshots. Reactions. Theories.

—NO NO NO NO NO NO.—

His fingers gripped his hair as he scrolled through the tweets. Some people were freaking out, some were making jokes, and others were just straight-up confused.

Lando groaned, collapsing onto his bed.

He was so fucking stupid.

He had spent months pretending she didn’t exist. Acting like they were nothing. And now, he had practically announced to the world that he was still checking her Instagram.

Lando shut his eyes. He was never going to hear the end of this.

[cell151]

Replika Lounge

It is the late evening hours after a particularly long shift. Falke and Adler are sitting together reading reports, Storch and Kolibri are writing reports, Eules are cleaning and the Stars are playing cards. Propaganda music is playing on wall mounted speaker.

"I think we should call it a night," Falke says to Adler.

"I agree ma'am." The two start packing up their materials. "Would you like me to accompany you back to your quarters?"

"I appreciate the offer Alder but I have to quickly lecture certain units who ignored clearly marked No Smoking signs around the facility." Falke stares directly at the Stars who try to hide behind their cards.

Adler wanted to linger around to see the Stars get reprimanded but didn't want to argue with Falke's orders. "I will see you tomorrow ma'am." He saluted which Fallen returned. He couldn't help flash a smug smile at the Stars as he passed. Though their mouths were covered with masks, their eyes revealed what they thought of the administration Replika.

The door opened, Adler exited and then the door closed. Everyone waited. Their eyes turned to Kolibri, who glanced up from her work with a look of concentration.

"Okay, he's gone," Kolibri said after a few moments.

The whole room visibly relaxed, including Falke.

"Thank the Great Revolutionary," Falke sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Honestly, all day the guy is up my ass."

It is a nice ass.

Falke grinned and pointed her finger at one of the Storchs, having heard her thoughts. "Watch it, Legs." The Storch responded with a grin of her own.

"Alright you lot," Star stood and knocked her knuckles on the ceiling. "Coast is clear."

The ceiling panels were removed and a group of Arars came down with cables and computers.

Tables with computers and keyboards were set up and most of the Replikas present sat at a terminal. The monitors were turned on and DOOM appeared on the screen.

It was Friday night DOOM deathmatching and as the game got underway, the Eules put out snacks before clustering around one of their cadre, cheering her on.

"Get the Super Shotgun!"

"Star, are you seriously just using a pistol," asked Storch.

"Of course. I don't need anything else," Star replied cockily.

"Well you'll rethink that when you get a shotgun blast to the face!"

"Oh no!" cried Kolibri. "Commander Falke is going for the BFG!"

The room groaned as Falke let out an evil cackle.

"You can't escape from me!"

The next morning

Adler made his way to Commander Falke's office. He noted with disdain the sluggish way the Replikas were going about their task. When he reached Falke's door he opened it and found the commander hunched her desk looking tired. Adler shook his head with pity and delivered her morning coffee.

Poor Commander. She must've been working late into the night. She carries this facility on her shoulders.

Falke ran a hand over her face and cursed her creators for creating Replikas that could experience hangovers.

[urpersonalpublicgalaxy]

in-progress fnaf theory!!! now that ive established fnaf has a space on my blog... :3

prototype freddy.

thats some weird shit right??? well actually no he very well could be perfectly explainable and heres how (in other words i see a lot of confusion over him anddd my brain connected some dots i would like to share!!)

(at the very bottom is tl;dr!!!)

gonna explain the some base info first, but i am assuming some level of understanding of sb and ruin during this however so if ur new to either this might not make sense, sorry :( im gonna ramble a bit so get comfy

princess quest is the canon ending, based on evidence from ruin. this theory is reliant on that

ok so!!!! lets talk about the Vanny option (at the doors, 6am) as choosing this option is mandatory to reach both the vanny ending and the pq ending

when the option is selected everyones least favourite Freddy Gets Trashed cutscene plays, regardless of doing pq or not

yknow...

so!! the damage to him, which is from this scene, happens regardless of vanny ending or pq ending, we just only get to really see it in the vanny ending

heres a good look at that

and now i want you to take a good stare at prototype freddy (especially the arm and torso!!)

the damage is, while a little more extreme (which could easily just be from how much time has passed between sb and ruin) near identical

and his head is missing, which circles back around to the pq ending, in which gregory takes freddys head with him!! small issue- the damage

which is rather clearly completely missing from him in the pq ending. well luckily i can explain this too :3

there are very obviously time gaps in the pq ending cutscene. what we are shown is not *everything* thats happening there. link to a video of the cutscene,,

he leans out the window, takes a look at the staff bots deactivating- and then it cuts to him, standing near the exit, vanessa waiting for him at the door, freddy already in a bag. shit has CLEARLY gone down off screen in that time jump because 1. shes waiting for him and not freaking out, 2. gregory isnt scared shitless of her and freddy trusts her (you cannot convince me freddy would trust her automatically, even if he did at the start of the night. he KNEW that she was vanny,

or at the very least that she was connected with it,

and he still literally instructs gregory on killing her. this is a screenshot from a pq ending playthrough.)

so!! they fixed freddys head

what better way for gregory to trust vanessa than her helping to fix the one consistent friend & safety hes had in that whole place?? besides, at this points its mandatory that hes done the power upgrade plus roxys eyes and either montys or chicas parts, so hes got SOME experience at least, not to mention that repairs seem to be intentionally incredibly simple in design (probably so they dont have to get employees with actual qualifications... lets be honest, makes sense considering the company we're talking about.)

however-- the damage done is something considerably different than before, and doesn't have a built-in routine, which does pose some entirely new challenges, and before he atleast had some direction from hand unit.

so of course, vanessa who is an **actual employee** probably comes in handy here!! especially considering the fact freddy himself would be 'dead' for most of it-- since thats what happens at the end of the vanny ending cutscene, he shuts down

anyways its entirely believable that this kid would want to get his new father figure fixed first and foremost (hes gone out of his way just for freddy before, and vice versa) and that she would want to help him in any way possible after yk, being murderous.. and entirely believable that this would be possible to do. and, it explains the level of trust shown in the cutscene :)

and the course of action with 'ok take his head off', it makes sense the rest of his body wouldn't be salvagable, with it beyond either of their qualifications (since vanessa is a security guard and not a technician) and most importantly, probably impossible for either of them to actually move. and vanessa was literally talking shit to him headless earlier, not to mention gregory having to reattach it- theyre both familar to some degree with the idea of him working without his body connected

tl;dr: prototype freddy isnt another model or some weird shit, its just his leftover corpse lmao couldnt be me

PLEASE please join in the discussion; this theory is NOT foolproof and while i could explain how the prototype mark and present in his chest wouldve gotten there, ive got many reasons why and nothing concrete to say which one of them is accurate!!! (if anyones interested, i can reblog with my current ideas on that ^_^)

[septima-severa]

Inbound Flight (Thrawn x reader) chapter 8 excerpt

... yep, I got three chapters further while redacting the Inbound Flight fanfic. And why haven't I posted it yet to the AO3? Well, because I'm now writing one more intermezzo for the previous installment, where reader is still stranded with Thrawn on Peridea (some tooth-rotting fluff, really, but I would like to have the series more or less in order).

At least I feel gracious enough today to share with you another excerpt, even though today, it's totally SFW.

Thrawn had professed his desire to join you in the nest, yet hadn’t opposed the healer’s decision. It had been more than interesting to witness their exchange. The human is my mate, and I desire to be in a physical contact with her, he had said in Cheunh. The only physical contact that had transpired from that situation had been supporting him between you and the healer while you had assisted him to the small refresher unit in the room.

Upon his exit, he dismissed the healer, trailing towards the nest once the automatic door closed behind her. With a grumble and hiss of pain he laid behind you, getting what he wanted in the end. Soon you found yourself engulfed by his embrace and allowed yourself to relax a little. The comforting feeling of him spooning you caused the words dying on their way out – you were not prepared to ruin this by saying something that you would regret later, and he seemed to not require any explanations just yet, reveling in your presence. Lacing your fingers through his, you allowed yourself to shut down.

It was much later that something jolted you awake. It was your discarded datapad, its screen lit up with an incoming message – you had disabled the notification alert beeping and chiming. Reaching for it, you squinted at the screen. It was a message from Ar’alani, relayed to you by Pyrondi from the Chimaera. Apparently, they hadn’t ventured far after you had left.

Your movement disturbed the man behind you, and he let out a groan of protest, his embrace tightening around your torso. You adjusted the brightness setting, so you could read the message comfortably.

Healer Esiroliane long deceased. Possibility of Mitth infiltration of the station high, get the hell out of there ASAP. – E.

It made your skin crawl.

Thrawn noticed that something was off in the morning. You were on edge, alert, and jumped at every sound coming from the corridor, eyeing the door with wariness. “What disturbed you, ch’acah?” he asked once he exited the refresher, his body movements improved. He noticed that you started keeping your lightsaber close, and it worried him.

“The healer is not who she claims she is,” you hissed when he joined you in the nest again. You slid the datapad with last night’s message open over the bedcover.

He read it twice before raising an eyebrow at you in an unspoken question.

“Ar’alani possibly had a mole in her crew when I arrived. Somehow, they got to the ship’s records and found about my connection to you,” you started. “I don’t know any details, but it soon was clear that it caught the attention of the Mitth patriarch. There is a possibility that they wanted to get to you through me. However, now I’ve served you to them on a silver platter.”

“Explain.”

You averted your eyes from his intense stare, speaking rapidly. “When we were contacted by the station, I might have told the Lasat male that I am your wife, or at least that I’ve shared your bed on a multitude of occasions,” you blushed, “and that I would have taken you to the Ascendancy if there was a chance – which there wasn’t. The Ascendancy has been facing a series of Grysk-orchestrated attacks, and you were kriffing unconscious because of a treatment inefficiency after some bomb explosion. Ar’alani had recommended me to take you here instead,” you paused, throwing your arms about in frustration. “She told me there should be a Chiss healer, now she says the healer is long dead. Just great.”

“And what is your gut feeling?”

What a strange question coming from the level-headed stoic Chiss. You snorted, earning yourself more staring. “Oh, I’ve been thinking about it for the rest of the night. Since we’ve been here for some time now, and you are obviously better, she might try something rather soon. I just don’t know when.” You let out a frustrated groan, muttering, “I haven’t liked that bitch from the start.”

That remark made him give you a lopsided smile.

“I spent there enough time to know how supremacist your people are. I was treated fair most of the time, but I notice when I’m not welcome. I’m not questioning your decision, Thrawn. But the feeling I get when she enters this room? It’s the same like the one Admiral Mak’ro gave me from the start.”

Whether he hadn’t known about his former subordinate’s advancement within the Chiss military, he didn’t show it. There would be more time for questions later.

“Kyra says that she will try to get rid of me. How, though… I can only assume they want you alive.”

Later, Thrawn observed you as you were playing with a small device, pacing from one side of the room to the other, deep in thought. He even witnessed you sampling the broth that arrived as a meal, testing it with that instrument. His conclusion was that you ruled out all possibilities of her killing you openly except for a poison. “Where did you get it?” he pointed to the small device in your hands – you were keeping it on you all times.

“As weird as it sounds, it seems I have a fan onboard. A girl following my research from the times of the Empire. She even gave me an impromptu tour of her lab. This thing is enormous, multiple ships of various age and designs interconnected into a literal station. Pyro says they even have the communication triad.”

“Yet you have your messages going through the Chimaera,” he observed.

You shrugged. “Well, you have a channel established with Ar’alani, and I quite like your encryption, it’s very non-standard and more complex than the Imperial one. It seemed safer to redirect any communications through your personal console in your office. And I left your uniform, including the coding cylinders, in Pyro’s care,” you gave him a weak smile, adding, “just please, if you are mad at me about it, leave it for later. I think I’ve landed my arse in a deep shit as it is… again.”

Thrawn let out an exasperated sigh. “It seems you thought of everything,” he said instead.

“Obviously not,” you shot him a hurt look. “I’m not a military genius like somebody,” you snorted.

[gaydr0id]

Hidden Identity

Gavin Reed finds out his homoerotic situationship is an android. He's pissed.

Words: 800

Rating: T (cw: violence)

Pairing: Gavin Reed/Garrett Mason (@illegalvampire's oc)

For the first few hours of his work day Gavin doesn't think much of the fact that he hasn't spotted Detective Mason around the office. They work different units, after all. It isn't unheard of for their paths not to cross for long periods, even with how small their precinct is. He's probably out in the field. Or that's what Gavin assumes until he spots Mason's partner, Detective Sharr, exiting Captain Fowler's office alone.

"Hey Jimmy, you seen Garrett around?"

"No and I hope it stays that way," answers the other detective in a gruff tone.

"He screw your wife again?" Gavin jokes.

"Piss off, Reed." Sharr shoulder checks Gavin as he skulks over to his desk.

Reed returns to his own desk and quickly taps out a message to his friend.

redbloodedreed: jimmy seems pissed lol what you do this time?

The window minimises and Detective Reed returns his focus to work. If he hadn't been waiting for a reply Gavin probably wouldn't have noticed the notification badge on his messaging app change from a 6 to a 7. He clicks open the chat to discover there is still no reply from Garrett. The message, instead, is from Officer Chen, his other friend on the force.

babeinblue: did you know?

redbloodedreed: ?

babeinblue: about mason

redbloodedreed: ur gonna have to be more specific

babeinblue: shit you dont know

redbloodedreed: spit it out t

babeinblue: he's an android

redbloodedreed: ur an idiot

babeinblue: i'm being serious gav.

Gavin simply stares at the screen. Is he seriously considering that this might not be a joke? After a few seconds another message pops up in the chat. A photo of his best friend and part time lover, Garrett Mason, with blood gushing from his nose. Blue blood. The watermarking suggests it's a screencap taken from Detective Sharr's body cam, time stamped for last night. That sort of thing is so easy to fake they wouldn't consider it viable evidence if it were submitted for a case. Yet something cold is worming its way into his chest.

Betrayal.

Gavin logs into the police database and opens the raw stream from the night before, scrubbing through until the deviant they were pursuing jumps Garrett. Green Gray eyes watch intently as the man starts to bleed blue.

"That motherfucker," Gavin can't help saying out loud. He dismisses his desk terminal with an aggravated wave of his hand, snatches his jacket off the back of his chair, and storms out of the station. A few curious stares follow him out but nobody attempts to intercept him.

Gavin's fist beats against the apartment door, a hard loud knock he usually reserves for house raids. When it opens and he's face to face with the other man, Gavin just stares, searching those orange brown eyes for any sign of humanity. He finds it, of course he does. Nobody had any fucking clue this guy was an android. Anger reignites inside of Gavin and he lunges at Garrett, shoving him against the wall.

"Fuck you, you plastic piece of shit!" he yells between punches, "I trusted you! I let you sleep in my fucking bed!"

Garrett doesn't fight back, doesn't even move.

Gavin grabs a fistful of brown hair and slams Garrett's head against the wall hard enough to leave a hole. "Did I mean anything to you?!" His voice breaks as hot tears overflow onto his cheeks.

Mason stays quiet and still until Gavin's punches grow weak and stop altogether. The two men collapse to the floor, soiled with blue blood and tears.

"I didn't know," Garrett says, weakly.

"Fuck off," Gavin snaps back. His tone is rough but exhaustion has dulled it's bite.

"I didn't," insists the android. His own voice is gravelly with static. He almost certainly has some internal damage from the beating he just received. "They gave me false memories. A whole life. A fucking family. And I just found out none of it's real."

"Shit, man. That's so fucked..."

"Yeah..."

The two men sit in the darkened hallway for a moment, quietly processing it all.

"Sorry about your face," says Gavin, breaking the silence. "And your wall."

"I don't care," Mason answers earnestly. Why should he? His body isn't truly his, after all. It belongs to Cyberlife.

"You need to go to a jiffy lube or something?" teases Gavin.

"Too soon, man," mutters Mason, but a smile touches his lips. The smile grows wider as he eyes up the man sitting across from him. "Is it weird I want you to fuck me right now?"

Gavin can't help but laugh at the abrupt change of subject. "Good to know you're still a horny idiot."

"I'm the same guy I've always been," asserts Mason, tone more serious than he meant it to be. "Nothing has to change. I don't want anything to change."

Gavin leans forward and runs a calloused thumb over Garrett's dented cheek. "I don't want anything to change, either."

[korpuskat]

Core Voltage [Ramattra/Reader]

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader Rating: Explicit WC: 3,750 Warnings: technically mild somnophilia & mild dubcon, wireplay

“I need your assistance. It is… a delicate issue.” He says. The hesitance in his voice box immediately piques your interest.  “I am in the process of some upgrades. The housing for my power unit is failing and needs to be replaced.”

“Upgrading yourself sounds pretty normal, Ramattra.” You shrug. “Why would you need my help?”

“The power unit itself must be disconnected before the housing can be replaced.” He says flatly. You stare at him, not quite understanding yet. His shoulders drop and he rephrases: “I must be offline to replace the housing.”

“Oh.”

Ramattra lifts himself onto the worktable, gestures for you to come closer. All around the room, he’s surrounded by a variety of tools and screens. You won’t need these he had assured you. You hope he’s right.

“All you will have to do is remove my power unit, remove the original housing, place the new housing, return the power unit, and restart me.” He says it like it’s nothing, not even giving you his full attention- his hands are at his rib-like adornments. You don’t even know what he’s doing- until the seals release and the front of his body opens before you. Warm air rushes out freely, usually confined to exiting through the vents on his back.

Inside, his machinery is whirring, fans spinning rapidly, wires of all colors wrapped around his chassis, leading in and out of various computational squares you can’t identify on sight. Almost all components were never produced or designed by human hands.

“Here.” He says, and points to a silver cylinder in the upper part of his chest. It’s surrounded by a black metal box- that may once have had a front lid from the hinge on the top. It doesn’t now, of course- and you inch ever closer to see the remnants of broken, aging solder. You swallow, “Is it already loose enough to come off?”

“It’s only held on by the wires that pass through it.”

You cringe and look again. Sure enough, the rainbow of wires are threaded right through tiny holes at the base of the box, leading into the bottom of the power unit.

“Once I shut myself down- and wait for me to be completely offline- rotate the power unit clockwise, then place it somewhere safe.” Left unspoken is the I cannot boot without it, or the ever worse There are very few R-7000 power units left in the world. “Then remove the wires from the power unit base. All you need to do is re-thread the wires into the new housing and plug them in. I can finish the attachment when I have rebooted.”

“How will you know when to power on? Do I have to reboot you?”

Ramattra nods once, the ribbon cables on his head and dysfunctional housing swaying with the movement. This time he reaches up to his face- and his face plate comes right off. He continues motioning, pointing somewhere under his optics. His exposed optics. You can’t really hear what he’s saying.

They actually look like eyes, even the servos’ casing attached had once been painted red. You can’t help but stare- watching as they spin and twitch, focusing. Or- or the rest of his face, for that matter; the LEDs of his forehead exposed, the glow much more diffused without the face plate’s  pinpoint openings- two wires running along the surface of his not-skull like veins.

He stopped talking at some point. There’s something uncomfortable in the room. As much as your fascination has made you stare, something darker is settling in Ramattra’s shoulders.

It’s somehow worse that he doesn’t emote without the faceplate. With it, at least it’s obvious there’s no moving parts exposed that he could emote with-- no eyes to meet your gaze. Now, he should be able to have eyebrows, to squint at you, to scowl.

His voice is slightly clearer. “I apologize, I forgot you had not seen this.” The words are polite, but his tone is curt, short and sharp. He’s offended.

“Sorry,” You say and step closer. “I’m sorry.” You reach out to him and touch something familiar; his knee, then one hand. He lets you, but does not reciprocate when you squeeze. “You’re right, I hadn’t seen this before. It’s…”

“Unnerving? Threatening?” He spits. Is that what he thinks? That without his faceplate you can only see him as a Ravager?

You scowl at him. He should know you better. “If I took off my skin, showed you my organs, and said ‘hey come take this one out’, you’d be pretty unnerved too.” You step closer, fully between his dangling legs now.

“That’s hardly the same thing.” He counters, but the bite is already gone from his voice.

You reach up, almost having to stretch to touch the side of his face. You’re careful, only caressing his jaw, nothing that’s been revealed to you- just in case. “Promise it’s easy?” You hesitate, “That you’ll come back?”

“I promise.”

With nothing else to say, Ramattra leans back on the table, seems to hesitate on his elbows, before sighing and laying down entirely. His eyes don’t close, he doesn’t adjust to get comfortable, his version of falling asleep is nothing so human. The LEDs that adorn his body turn off first, then slowly the fans and soft hums of machinery quiet down until all that’s left is your own breathing.

Still, you give it a moment. Completely offline is what he had said,  if there’s any data that hasn’t yet been cleared, you don’t want to know what happens if it doesn’t disperse on its own.

“Ramattra?” You ask quietly.

The silvery shell before you doesn’t answer. It’s as good a cue as any.

It occurs to you immediately that working on him from the side of the table is completely out of the question. It’s much too awkward an angle to reach up and over his sides and then down into… well, into him. So you crawl up onto the table itself and situate yourself across his lap. If you weren’t actively performing omnic heart surgery, you’d let your mind wander on the more enjoyable possibilities of your thighs bracketing his waspish waist.

Instead, you swallow and reach into the cavity of his chest. The power source is easily removed- only a half-turn to the right and something clicks, disconnecting it from the base. You set it carefully, oh so carefully, on the table near his shoulder. Here, it was a little trickier- only because you had to disconnect each wire individually. At least the brackets that held the wires in place a few inches out from the housing box made it easy to know where each wire would be plugged in again. Tediously, you got to work.

Finally, with the multicolored wires standing free, you grasp the housing box itself. It breaks off, leaving a dusting of solder as you take it. “Fuck,” you mutter. The pieces are too fine for you to pick up; you just have to hope it’s not going to hurt him.

You place the new box where the old one was and work in reverse- threading each wire in through the pre-drilled holes and then plugging them into the silver circular base. It’s repetitive, boring work, but you can’t let yourself get distracted; you’re almost done. When they’re all woven through, each and every color lined up distinctly with its correct port, you pick up the cylinder again. It’s a curiosity you’d never really wanted to investigate before- but as it is, the power source reveals nothing to you. You slot it into the place, exhale slowly, and rotate it counter-clockwise until it again clicks and locks.

You swallow thickly. Well, it’s done… one way or the other. You reach up to his face- and oh, it’s still so strange seeing beneath the faceplate. The aperture of his optics is relaxed, entirely open, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling with a flat, black gaze. You touch the structure that would be his cheek and shudder with the intimacy of it. None of this was meant to be touched by human hands, but here you were. Mimicking the motion Ramattra had shown you, you found the input just inside his skull.

Immediately his body begins thrumming with electricity- and you sigh with relief. At least you got that part right. The LEDs along his body light up automatically, smaller lights along his inner cavity glow white, Something inside him begins humming. You sit back into his lap again, watching the small changes of how his platform boots up.

You should get off him- it’ll be a minute before he’s truly conscious. You know this.

Instead, you touch the edge of the opening, along the ridge where the front of his chestplate will join together. The air inside him is already beginning to warm, but his fans have a leisurely pace- cooling fresh air is taken in by his entire front opening, keeping his system well below thresholds. It’s captivating- so much of the process you can’t actually see, contained within CPUs and GPUs and the hundreds of little wires that run through his entire body. But you’re watching him wake up, staring down at him while he’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him.

You dip your thumb around the ridge this time, gently tracing a red-white-green bundle of cables that twist from one little chip down the inside of his chest.

He’d never talked about it. No, you had heard from another omnic. One of his lieutenants, but you’d never tell Ramattra that. Most omnics were not originally built with… well, any means of direct, raw pleasure. Some chose to get that hardware upgrade later, but for the rest there was usually a workaround. It hadn’t particularly appealed to you before.

“We could try that for now,” You had suggested once, before he’d designed his own upgrade. Just an idea, so you could do something for him. Ramattra had scoffed at the idea, made some dismissive comment. You never knew if it was because he was truly uninterested or if he simply didn’t trust you that much yet.

It’s different, somehow, actually staring into the thrumming heart of him. The temptation of finding out which wires are which, of making a little catalog in your mind- each color getting a little flag for how much they make his synth glitch, if they make his optics go snowy, which ones would make him tip his head back and sigh. You shouldn’t, but you rock against the curved plating of his pelvis, sate yourself with a chaste touch along the inside of his casing again.

It’s the whirring of the apertures you hear first. Looking up confirms it: without yet raising his head, his optics have shifted downward, focusing on you. The haze clears from your mind, replaced by shame.

“Really?” He says, exasperated. “You’re insatiable.” Your cheeks burn, immediately you drop your head and begin to scoot off him. His hands are at your hips before you can even lift a leg. Instead he’s pulling you closer, pulling you down against him, igniting more of that quiet friction you were aching for.

Normally, you’d brace your hands on his chest, but as it is your awkward grasp around his ribs gives you too little leverage. Ramattra must realize this too, holding your still-grinding hips in place as he sits up. It doesn’t, however, help that him sitting means you’re still face-to-chest with the same wires that had taunted you into this situation. It takes all your will power to wrap your hands around his neck, instead.

“What is your obsession with this?” He doesn’t let go of your hips, keeping you in place- a quiet sign he expects an actual answer from you.

“I’m not obsessed.” You whine, and, well, it was true. It hadn’t even crossed your mind again since you’d first mentioned it. “I never get to see you like this; you looked so… vulnerable. It’s all foreign and new.”

Ramattra draws back a little, creates a breath of space between your bodies. Between it and his locked grip on your hips, you wilt and prepare to concede your whim. It’s fine, really, so long Ramattra will at least fuck you properly- sooner rather than later. But instead he stares down at you- which is actually somehow worse than his open displeasure. It makes the skin at the base of your neck prickle, your fingers slide cautiously over his broad shoulders.

And at long last- Ramattra sighs. You brace for the lecture, the sour explanation of how dangerous it is (you know), that you have no idea what you’re doing (you know), that he’s never- “Go on then,” He says- and leans back, bracing himself on his hands.

You blink up at his unarmored face- his revealed optics making it all seem so much more personal. Really? With trembling hands you skirt down from his shoulders, over his sides, fingertips catching on each rib, but not delving into the dark gaps between. “You’re sure?”

“I can’t say I haven’t been… tempted.” His voice drops, low and cautious. “It has been… some time since I last indulged that particular whim.”

You can’t help but grin and embrace the flood of warmth that follows his confession. “You’ve done this before?” You ask, aware of the thin ice you’re treading on. In exchange you let one hand dip inside him and slide along the black protective box you just installed. His head drops, optics following your wrist into his own chest. Can he feel this yet- can he feel that at all? you wonder.

“A few times.” Ramattra all but murmurs. You trace your index finger along a thick, black-rubber coated cable that winds down to his hips. A simulated inhale is your reward. “You can be firmer with the bundles.” He advises, then adds, “Lots of insulation.”

The specifics of just how this worked had never actually come up, leaving you with a general idea and an abundance of curiosity. Immediately you follow his recommendation- taking the cables entirely in hand and squeezing. It’s hardly enough to bend the heavy coating- and yet Ramatra’s fingers curl around the sides of the worktable, his head drops back, the ribbon cables of his mane falling off his shoulders. The ends of each clatter together loudly, but not loud enough to cover the half-muted buzzing that slips from Ramattra’s vocoder.

Your hips move against him of their own volition- and that leads to an actual growl from him. This time, your fingertips dance over a webbed array of wires of various colors. Ramattra’s shoulders jerk, an actuator moving on its own momentarily, followed by his ventilation speeding up, fans humming despite the openness of his chest. It’s intoxicating. You single out a bright red cord and gently twist it between your fingers. “Fu-uck.” The aperture of his optics whirs closed and he doesn’t bother trying to keep himself upright, sliding down to be resting on his elbows.

“What is it like?” You ask, but don’t slow your explorations. How could you, when the possibility of his voice box glitching out is so tantalizingly close?

“It’s static.” He says, shuddering as you walk your fingers across a twisted set of blue and white wires. You spot a bright yellow wire that runs straight up into his throat. “White noise in my syst-EMS!” His tone doesn’t actually change to an exclamation- his raw volume blows into a buzzing mess before clicking off and restoring itself. “It’s different th-an just pleasure.”

“So what if I was riding you at the same time?” Devilish, you can’t help yourself but to once again rock down against the outer plating of Ramattra’s lap.

The worktable damn near creaks with how hard Ramattra grabs it, then follows with a deep groan, “Are you trying to crash me?”

You spy a little bundle of wires, bound together as they run along one of the horizontal struts of Ramattra’s back. “Maybe,” your murmur, and find a place where they wind together, then split, some entering deeper into his frame. “Isn’t that the point? Can’t you cum from this?”

You don’t actually give him a chance at all. Which is extremely rewarding when he modulates a scoff, “A roll-ing -ing” His voice box glitches then cuts out entirely. You rub along that junction of wiring, tugging gently one way then the other.

Ramattra goes completely still- and silent as he is you’d almost think you did crash him, if it weren’t for the sudden brightening of his LEDs. It’s… refreshing to see him laid so bare for you. As he partially reloads yet again, you stroke his exposed cheek, swiping a thumb below his optics. After a minute, Ramattra’s synthesized breathing resumes and you prompt him “Rolling?”

“Rolling partial shut down,” He says, almost dreamily. “Different from a human orgasm.”

“Sure.” You’ll let him have it for now, even if the outcomes look identical. “Then is that something I can do for you?”

A long silence ensues- the metaphorical gears in Ramattra’s head must be turning, weighing his options. The longer you’re manipulating his sensitive innermost parts, the higher the chance you hit something bad- and a predictable, replicable, intentionally programmed orgasm from fucking must be wildly safer than whatever random data overload you were wreaking across his systems. And yet, the reward must outweigh the risk because he sighs. “Yes.” He adjusts again, lays himself entirely down and cautiously adjusts his hands to drape over the sides of the table. “Just- keep doing that.”

It’s all the approval you need to grin wildly and dig into him. At the same juncture you pinch the entire bundle of wires and roll them. Immediately Ramattra groans, loud and sustained- his voice box struggles to keep the pitch even. Instead, his back arches towards you- and you’re not even sure if it’s because of how you’re manipulating his wiring. You squeeze tighter, feel the thin rubber insulation flatten under your thumb- and Ramattra’s optics tick upwards, too sharp to be controlled.

His groan lowers into a deep rumbling from his speakers. He’s much too put-together, the only option is to double down. So as you keep thumbing at that bundle of wires, your other hand sinks inside him. For a moment, you just barely touch the same thick, black cable you’d started with- and you can feel the stutter in his ventilation. Then, you give it the exact same treatment. Taking the cable into your hand, you squeeze it, move the pressure across each of your fingers- and with each one Ramattra twitches in a new way- his wrists, neck, knees each giving unbidden jerks as you massage the heavy rubber.

Ramattra’s hands curl into fists, but he doesn’t grab the table. Instead, his head rolls to the side, still making soft noises that may have once been moans before the distortions you’re feeding his systems. It’s still not quite enough- he’s close, if you had to bet. You keep him there- repeating the same motions over and over, just to watch him twitch and writhe. It’s a rare treat and you have every intention of burning the memory into your head before you bring him over the edge.

It’s almost fuzzed out entirely, lost into a crack of his voice: “Do it,”

You almost snicker, of course he can’t entirely give up control, but you can’t say no to him. Your weight comes on to the handful of wires- more on the thick cable than the twisting junction. That alone makes his thighs jerk, his heels scraping on the table. But that’s just a bonus: you lean all the way over him- and first, lay a kiss to the corner of his purple jaw piece, soft and sweet.

And then you move to his throat.

The metal of the actuators there is cold- and tastes of oil as you lick up one length. It’s enough to bring on another staticky moan- all sexual. But when you take another one of his thick black cables- the same ones that run along his neck- into your mouth and tug it away from his head, it’s all over.

A hundred servos all get wrong information at the same time; each joint of his fingers bending a different way- but every single one of them tenses. His head tips back, exposes the same cable to your teeth. And then- it’s like you’d turned off an old radio, his voice dies out with a crackle and then a click. And then silence.

The hum of his electronics, the motors to his fans have all turned off.

You let go of his wiring and sit back. Even the lights on his LEDs have gone dark.

He’s even courteous enough to not let you get anxious about him; before the thought really crosses your mind, he begins to hum once more. It sounds nice- smoother, somehow. The apertures of his optics whir, flexing open and closed as they begin to focus. From this angle, you can just barely make out a red light from within.

Unlike a human, his actuators did not relax as soon as he shut down. Instead, now that he’s conscious again, they each slide down into what must be their default position- simulating relaxation.

You don’t speak, giving him a moment to get his bearings once more. He must appreciate it, because after a few moments, his large hands rest on your hips. They’re just a comforting pressure- and you must know you’ve really made a mess of him because he hasn’t even tried to slide them under your shirt.

“How was that?” You ask anyway.

Ramattra makes a noise- what may have been a scoff. “I have 492 warning messages and 2,304 caution notifications.”

You cringe and stroke your thumbs over the hard ridges of his rib adornments. “Nothing serious?”

The red in his optics seems to flicker- his HUD updating as he navigates the errors. “No, nothing serious.” He says finally- and you can actually relax. He waits a moment, then raises one hand to your low back, dipping into the curve there. “It was… refreshing.”

The praise makes your cheeks flush. “I’m glad.”

His fingers slide along your spine, slowly pulling your shirt up with it. “Now, must I fuck you immediately or may I finish repairing my power unit housing first?”

[babyboibucky]

The Match

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You come across your boss’ Tinder profile.

Word Count: 1,446

Warnings: HMMMM sexual tension 😏

A/N: I wrote this in a whirl and tried to format it through the app last night and it SUCKS so I’m posting this just now. Anyway, there will definitely be a smutty part two to this lmfao ya know it

Edit: PART 2 IS UP!!!

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Saturday night and you’re on your bed, wine-drunk and all as you mindlessly swiped through Tinder. You start to frown when none of the guys impressed you enough to swipe right. Their bios were all the same, revolving around their egos only to end up with the good ol’ “DTF” line.

Bored and disappointed, you almost exited the app until a very, very familiar face appeared on your screen.

“Holy shitballs, it’s our boss.” You sat up immediately, bringing your phone to your face for a close inspection.

Indeed, it was your boss James Barnes but he was using “Bucky” as his profile name. You wondered whether it was his real account or a poser one. But then you remembered his closest colleagues calling him that.

You snorted as you checked out his profile. He didn’t have a bio but had a couple of photos uploaded. And oh wow, is that a shirtless mirror photo?

You rarely worked closely with your boss but goddamn, sometimes you wished you did because he was a hot piece of ass.

“Should I swipe right...” you mumbled to yourself.

Would it be unprofessional to do so? But then again, you never really interacted with him that much. Just a couple of polite nods and greetings whenever you passed by him at the office. You weren’t even directly reporting to him.

That being said, you were quite sure that he wouldn’t swipe right on you given that you’re his employee. Of course he wouldn’t want to be the unprofessional one so being tipsy and all, you decided to take one for the team.

“Tss, what the hell.” You huffed out and swiped right.

Not even a second later, the “It’s a match!” message popped up on the screen almost immediately. You choked on your wine and dropped your phone, eyes wide and heart racing because you just matched with your fucking boss.

“Shit!” You hissed, diving onto the floor the pick your phone up.

If the message popped out as soon as you swiped right on him, then that means...

“He swiped right on me first, what the fuck!”

-

Monday came quickly and you’ve never been this restless before. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you matched with your boss on Tinder. Neither of you messaged the other over the weekend but now that you were headed to work, you honestly didn’t know what to expect.

You debated whether to call in sick or maybe, pretend that you died? Pack your bags and perhaps fly to a different country and start anew? You were overacting but matching with your boss on a dating app known for hook-ups should be a valid reason to justify your thoughts.

Maybe James didn’t recognize you that’s why he swiped right. That was possible since you and him didn’t really work together. It’d be better if he swiped right by accident, his phone probably slipped from his hands. He probably doesn’t even know he matched with you, yeah, you decided to settle on that conclusion.

Taking a deep breath in, you fixed your hair before stepping out of your car. Mondays were meant for meetings so he probably wouldn’t be around the office anyway. You rushed over to the elevator and let out a sigh of relief when you didn’t have to share it with anyone.

That was until someone managed to slip a foot in between the doors, catching up to you before the elevators slammed shut.

“Oh.”

Well, well, well if it isn’t James “Bucky” Barnes. Out of all the people you had to share an elevator with, it just had to be him! And judging by how his eyes widened at the sight of you, the Tinder incident wasn’t simply an accident.

“Good morning.” He greeted, clearing his throat as he stood beside you.

James’ scent wafted in the air as soon as the doors slid close and he smelled divine. He smelled like a man, a man man and it almost made your eyes roll. You greeted him back with a soft voice, fighting so hard not to look at him because as always, he looked pretty damn good.

He was restless beside you, adjusting his suit and then his tie. You could see him through your peripheral vision, he kept on fixing his hair as well. Did he get a haircut? It was shorter than before, not that you were paying way too much attention to him.

Meanwhile, you too were fidgeting with your shoulder bag, picking at the leather and praying for this torture to be over before you could even lose control and slam your lips against his.

“How was your weekend?” James asked, glancing at you.

This was probably the longest conversation you had with your boss. You weren’t even sure which was more awkward, striking a conversation after the match or simply remaining quiet for the entire ride up.

“Um, it was good. Yours?” You asked, stammering a little as you stole a quick glance at him.

James nodded, “Good too. Interesting actually.”

Fuck! He knows, he so knows about the match.

You would have preferred complete silence over the elevator music echoing in the air while the both of you were obviously feeling the tension. Was the elevator really this slow?! And when did it get this hot?!

You started fanning yourself when you started to sweat from the awkwardness of it all. Bucky too could obviously feel it, the tension and the elephant in the room waiting to be acknowledged. He loosened his tie all of a sudden, popping the top buttons of his dress shirt which quickly reminded you of the shirtless pic in his profile.

You could feel the heat creep up to your neck and ears. With how bright the lights were in the elevator, it’d be easy for James to notice how red you turned.

“Kinda hot today, don’t you think?” He asked.

You let out a mirthless chuckle, “Yeah, really hot. I think the maintenance should have the air conditioning unit checked.” You breathed out, clearing your throat again as you wiped the sweat forming on your forehead.

For a couple of seconds there was nothing but the collective sounds of you and your boss clearing your throats. The tension was so thick you can literally touch it if you tried. You wanted to address the unspoken issue but how the hell were you going to do that? Jump on his bones? It would seem like a good idea to do so except that he was your boss and that would result to you losing your job.

You wanted to ask James though, whether he was aware that you were his employee when he swiped right. Actually, you just wanted to bring up the topic just to get it over with. Acknowledge the match and then pretend it didn’t happen to save you both from the embarrassment. Yeah, you could do that.

Unable to hold back anymore, you broke the silence to ask James a question.

“Did you swipe right on accident?”

“So are you down to fuck?”

You and James asked at the same time, his straightforward question making you weak in the knees because what the hell...

James bit his lip, shaking his head in response. “I didn’t.”

“Oh.” You blinked, unable to stop yourself from staring at James’ mouth when he ran his tongue over his lower lip before taking it in between his teeth as he looked you over with glazed eyes.

Damn that tongue, though. And damn those blue eyes too.

“Are you...?” He repeated again, reminding you of his question.

Your boss, whom you rarely interacted with in the office, just asked you whether you were down to fuck. Truthfully, you were only on Tinder because of boredom and it wasn’t your goal to actually hook-up with someone. But now that your hot boss swiped right on you and seemed to be really interested in you...

“I...uhh...” you stammered, not really knowing how to tell him that yes, you would very much like to be fucked by him.

The elevator dinged, interrupting the tension between you and James. The doors slid open and James quickly straightened up before walking ahead.

But not without turning around to look at you expectantly, waiting for a response.

Due to the pressure and the elevator doors beginning to close, you blurted out the first thing that you could muster.

“Yes, sir!”

You blushed at your response but it seemed to have stirred something in James because his eyes darkened as he smirked at you.

“Good. Then I’ll see you in my office in fifteen.”

-

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[bigbrothermisandrist]

Getting to experience Big Brother live tonight was AMAZINGGG 😭

The audience was so small! There was probably only 20-25 of us. We weren't allowed to have our phones on us which sucked bc I couldn't take pictures of anything, but I loved bonding over the show with everyone while we waited! Some folks even flew in from out of state for this eviction, like damn the dedication is wild.

When we finally starting walking up to the studio, we saw The Cookout arrive and be greeted by production as they all got out of their private van! 🤩

When we got inside (it's a very small room, but looks so big on TV lol), I got to sit in the FRONT ROW sooo close to the stage I was losing my mind!!! There was a stage manager? named Bill who hyped us up for the hour before the show and in between all the commercial breaks. He was sooo funny and engaging and through all of our convos as a group, it was extremely clear that all of us are hardcore rooting for Taylor to win! Even Julie admitted she might win AFP hehe 😌

I had such a great seat that I saw myself a lot coming back from commercial breaks! That bag under my chair is my Pokémon purse from Loungefly hahah I love that it made TV

So my line of sight is with the door and I kid y'all not that when Brittany made her exit and the remaining houseguests held the door open to wave, I MADE EYE CONTACT WITH ALL THEM AND WAVED BACK!!!!! The photo below is what y'all saw on TV, but I clearly saw all 3 of their faces smiling at me from inside it was phenomenal

When The Cookout first got on stage during the commercial break, I noticed Azah staring directly at me 😳 I started smiling with my eyes (we were all masked up) to show her I noticed her looking at me and then she smiled and gave me a tiny wave from her hands in her lap, and I waved back :)))) It was so sweet

Also, idk if anyone noticed these brief moments of Kyland? He stared off a LOT... it was eerie. Almost like he was looking past the audience? Maybe at a screen or s/t?? Everyone was engaged with Julie and w each other, but there were many long moments where idk wtf Kyland was staring at. I hated it tbh. Also Derek F blocked my view of Hannah the whole time which annoyed tf out of me

When The Cookout left, they walked down the center staircase which was right next to me. So when Hannah walked passed me I yelled "Hannah, I love you!" to which she said "Thank you, thank you so much!" as she looked me in the eyes and I was over the moon 🥹

Near the end of the show, Bill told all of us that the jury was actually outside getting ready for the Roundtable discussion! So pretty much only an hour after Brittany's eviction she gets to be united with the rest of the jury members. We didn't get to see the jury bc they were probably inside a studio room getting ready, but we caught a glimpse of the Roundtable area from afar! It was a beautiful glowing set that was just built outside near the BB studio.

So those were the main highlights of my experience today! It was everything I had hoped for and more :)

[hollandsmushroom]

You’re trying to help get your grades up so you ask Prof! Tom for some extra help but he keeps getting distracted and you’re like “what’s on your mind?” And hes like “sorry.. you’re just really beautiful and I really want to kiss you, was that too much?”

<33

Kiss You || T.H.

Word Count: 1,147

Warnings: Professor student relationship(both consenting and of age)

A/N: hehe happy birthday Rose, sorry I am a lil late and sorry that I accidentally did the same thing that Cookie did!

You walked up to his desk as the rest of the of the students filtered out of the classroom, your books cradled tight to your chest as you seemed to choke on your words, it wasn't like you hadn't interact with Tom before, you had had to, but it wasn't even that, it was your previous interactions, the ones that had left you with your heart fluttering and a question rattling in your skull, 'did he actually feel the same way that you did?' that were currently causing you anxiety as you approached him. In your head you wanted him so desperately to feel the same way that you did, subconsciously wanting nothing more than to have your English Professor be so much more than that.

“Hey Dr. Holland” you voiced, your hand propping up on the desk, entering his field of vision, his eyes trailing up the limb to your undeniably nervous face, a soft smile spreading across his thin lips at the sight of you, his chest tightening like a young school boy talking to his crush, he found himself getting lost in your eyes, not having replied to you yet, a drawn out silence filling the space between the both of you until he finally caught onto his unhelpful response. Shaking his head he tried to shake the beautiful color of your eyes from the forefront of his mind, not needing to spend this time that he had with you in front of him wondering what color the shade of your irises. 

“Um, yes Y/n, how can I help you?” he snapped himself out of it, his soft untamed curls still bouncing with the vigor of his previous shake. 

“Well, I uh, I was wondering if you could help me with the essay I am writing for this class, I obviously want it to be the best it can be but I can’t seem to get all of my sources included and I just, well I just needed help and you said that we could always ask for help and that your door was always open so I thought I would ask but I totally underst-” Tom didn’t give you the chance to give him an out of helping you, he didn’t want an out, he wanted to help you in any way that he could, he also wanted to make you his but that wasn’t the current topic of discussion. 

“Yes, of course I will help, here let's head to my office”  he offered, gathering his papers and putting them in his briefcase as he stood up and moving to open the door for you, a heat rising in your cheeks as you stepping through the exit waiting for him to lock the lecture hall before he started to guide you to his faculty office. “I'm sure that your paper is amazing, you are one of my best students, Y/n” he uttered, once again pulling a door open for you as he unlocked the door to his office. His words made you feel fuzzy as you stepped into his comforting office, the room smelling strongly of him and decorated sparsely yet in a homey way, there was a framed picture of a grey dog atop of his deep toned oak desk. 

“It’s nice in here” you mumbled, not really knowing what else to say as you settled in on one of the two seats opposite his leather office chair, expecting Tom to take his place in his seat of authority across from you but he didn’t, opting to sit at your side as you pulled out your laptop. 

“I like your screen saver” he complimented, just wanting to give you even a fraction of affection even in the most binary of ways. 

“Oh thanks, um I took the photo myself” you mumbled in reply, he was bringing out a bashfulness in you, he brought out a lot in you, namely the want to cover his face in kisses and forget the business of school. 

“That is super impressive” he smiled at you, god his smile made you want to tear your hair out, it made you want to forfeit your sanity and get lost in his lips. 

“Here, this is the what I need help with” you turned your computer towards Tom, watching as he maintains his soft smile as his eyes run across the lines of words on the screen,  you were watching him, watching how his captured his lip between his teeth as he attempted to stay focused on the task at hand but it was useless, he was alone with you and all he could think of was your lips.

“I can’t do this” Tom uttered, pushing back from where he had leaned over the table, his back colliding softly with the cushion of the chair, palm rubbing against his forehead as he looked sheepishly at you.

“Oh, um, I-I am sorry, I shouldn’t have asked” you mumbled, reaching out for your laptop to press the screen shut but you didn’t get the chance, Tom catching your wrist very softly in his large hand.

“No no, it’s just that I want to kiss you so bad that I can’t pay attention, you’re just so beautiful and I can’t stop thinking about your lips, oh my god, I am sorry I have said too muc-” your eyes fluttered shut as you hinged from your hips, hand coming to cup Tom’s cheek softly in the palm of your hand as you united your lips with Tom’s, so gentle and passionate that time seemed irrelevant, his tongue licking at your bottom lip to ask for entrance into your hot mouth, entrance which you happily granted, letting him roam your tongue with his in a frenzied and unpracticed dance of lust, only pulling back when your chin hurt from rutting into his as you pressed your face into his. 

“I thought you would never ask” you whispered, not wanting to tear the fabric of your rapidly weaved amorous moment. 

“I thought you wouldn’t want me to” his hand brushing over your cheek as he stared into your eyes, now able to take the time to contemplate the possible names for the beautiful hues of your eyes. 

“You didn’t think I would want you too? Maybe you’re right, maybe I am the smart one” you chuckled as you bumped your nose against Tom’s.

“I don’t think I used those words at all actually, I think I just said you were one of my best students” he joked back, pecking hurriedly at your pursed lips. 

“But am I really just your student anymore?” you quirked an eyebrow at him, forcing a chuckle from his lips as he shook his head.

“Oh you are so much more, now” he assured happily, kissing you just as intensely, if not more so than he had moments before. 

♡Taglist♡

@iluvdeja @quaksonhehe @lovehollandy12 @thollandneedy @prancerrparkerr @parkerpeter24 @hollandsour @evermoreholland @spidey-sophie @harmqnia @thehumanistsdiary @samaraaaaa @itscaminow @alinastarkrovs @marvelsbitch8 @celestialholland @kasidy409 @parkerdarling @capital-koreasofia @marvelhasmyheart235 @hackerholland @tom-softie @hollandsjen @tomhollandsbitch8 @bi-lmg07 @peterbarkerlmao @reawritesthings @tomsholland2412 @lowkey-holland @cocoamoonmalfoy @tomhollandlol

[softboywriting]

Little Moments | Billy Russo

Summary: Tension in familiarity leads to confessions after a terrifying event. [Billy Russo x Reader] [Violence] [Blood] [Gunshots] [Assistant!Reader] [Alternate Timeline - Castle family not mentioned/never happened] [Fluff] 

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This is my first Billy Russo fic, we’ll see where this goes yeah?

Just over a year ago you took a position as an assistant with Anvil. The job wasn't too bad, basically you took care of paying the bills for the facility, keeping inventory of supplies and equipment, scheduling appointments and keeping track of who was deployed where and why while keeping tabs on them and their duties while on deployment from Anvil. You had done work like this before, managing in a grocery store in your early twenties. It wasn't all that different, just instead of managing products you managed people. No the job was not difficult but your boss. Well. He was something else. 

William "Billy" Russo was a force to be reckoned with. Intelligent, handsome, cunning. His smile could kill. His eyes...they were something all their own. To say Billy was attractive was an understatement. But attraction was only part of the problem. The other part is his sharp tongue, quick wit and dry sarcasm. A year of sharing an office with him had put you on edge. You never know what he would do next, what he would say next. Some days you wish you could fuck him right there in that expensive leather rolling chair behind his desk. Other's you want to rip his leg off and shove it where the sun doesn't shine. The two of you got close, going back and forth with playful banter almost daily. It's like you’re always on the edge of being something more, if one of you would just make the first move.

Things finally come to a head one day when you've got a particularly large workload on your plate and Billy has decided to go on one of his little rants about who knows what, you tune him out. He is always coming into the office and talking to himself. Maybe he is talking to you, but you rarely participate in the conversation. At first you thought he was on a call, using a headset or something, but no. He just talks, and he talks a lot.

"Can you shut up for five fucking minutes?" You snap, head pounding from eye strain. You've been at the computer for six hours now, and you're trying to transcribe a call from one of his units over in Turkey about a job. Billy's mindless chatter has gotten on your last nerve today. 

Billy stops, falling silent somewhere near his desk. The room becomes thick, heavy with tension as you both remain silent. You've never snapped at him, not seriously. You've told him to go fuck himself but in a playful way. This was too real. Too loaded. He's your boss. Fuck.

You're not one to apologize when you're not actually sorry though. You remain silent, knowing he expects you to say something. He wants you to take back your words but you won't. 

"How much work do you have left?" 

Your eyes flick from the screen to him. He looks flushed. Angry? No. His eyes hold no malice. He looks aroused. No way. A cold sweat runs down your back. He must be livid. "I'm transcribing a call right now then I have to make copies of some invoices, order new foam guards for the weight benches and-"

"Finish the call. Then go home."

"Yes, sir."

Billy pushes off his desk and exits the room, leaving the door open behind him. You know that he isn't happy with your little outburst. You just don't know why he won't say as much. He looks turned on if you didn't know better. Or do you? 

The rest of the call goes smoothly now you don't have to pause every few seconds to rewind and listen to it to make out exactly what the unit leader was saying over Billy's chatter. You wrap up and head out as you were told. On the way out you pass Billy with a few of his higher up employees.

"Good night, Mr. Russo." You say softly with a hand raised in a wave. You always call him by his last name around other people. It's not much of a gesture but you want to keep things calm and civil. He nods, face unreadable, and gives a little raise of his hand as well. More than you expected, and it puts you at ease that you might keep your job. 

_____________________

"I'll have my assistant arrange the payment from you after the contract is finalized." 

You stop by the door to the meeting room to listen in. The men in the room with Billy are potential clients, men who want private security for multiple locations. You had greeted them when they arrived and showed them to the meeting room. They rubbed you the wrong way. You met a lot of men and women in your year at Anvil, a lot of different people from different walks of life. None of them made you as uncomfortable as these men had. You step away from the door and go to the office. If Billy wants to get in bed with them then let him. That's not your call.

"Let me grab the paperwork from my assistant." You hear through the closed door and Billy steps in, closing it behind him. "Can you give me a new client contract?" 

"Sure." You pull open the file drawer on your right and thumb through the papers. "They must be very promising work."

Billy leans on the side of the desk, quirking an eyebrow up at you. "What's got you so mouthy lately?" 

You cut him a glare and he chuckles. 

"You don't like them?"

"I'm not fond." 

"Why?" 

"They feel wrong." You extract a thick booklet of paper and hand it to Billy. "But let's not pretend you care what I think, Mr. Russo."

Billy rolls his eyes at the formalities. "You know damn well I value your input just like I do from any other person who works for me. Talk to me."

You sit up and lean back in your chair, eyes on his, your heart pounding. He's looking at you so attentively it's hard to focus. Those eyes, so soft and warm staring back at you. Fuck. He could make you spill the truth about everything without trying. "They give me a bad feeling. The second I greeted them they just...felt bad? I can't explain it."

"We work with a lot of morally gray people in our line of business, sweetheart." Billy leans back, hands spreading out on the desk. His hands, fuck they're nice. "But I will never ignore a gut instinct."

"So you won't sign the contract with them?" 

"I'll do some more investigation before I do. Talk to a few friends in high places."

You nod and slide forward to sit at the computer, closer to him. What a mistake. You can smell his cologne, his heat is pouring into your knee beside his. It takes everything in you to keep your eyes forward on the computer. He reaches over and lays a hand on your shoulder, making your body flush with heat. Why did he have to touch you? 

"Yes?" You ask, sparing a quick glance up at him. Mistake. He's staring down at you with those beautiful obsidian eyes. God they're so big and he's such a-

"Thank you."

"For what?" 

"For telling me. You've never come to me like this before about a client. I like it."

"Oh. Well it's your business so-" 

Billy leans in close to your ear and you feel that cold sweat return from when you told him to shut up. This time it's not fear or panic, it's arousal? The closeness is getting to you, your head is swimming. "You're just as important to me as this company. Remember that." 

You nod.

"Couldn't hear you."

"Y-yeah. Yes. I will."

He pushes off the desk and slides the papers he had been leaning against closer to you before he picks up the contract and smacks it against his hand a few times. "Will you set up a meeting with the Rodgers Estate for later?"

You grab a pen and scribble it in your planner. "Got it Mr. Russo."

"One more thing." He says and you look up. His hand is on the door handle. "Have a drink and relax? You're a little wound up lately. And drop the Mr. Russo shit, call me Billy when we're alone. You know that." He smiles and gives you a wink before slipping out the door to meet the clients in the hall.  

A drink? You need a week off, a spa getaway and a new career. Billy Russo is driving you up a wall and he doesn't even see it. Or maybe he does. Shit. 

_____________

A week later. Just before eight in the morning you're settled into your desk, ready to start going through some new shipment invoices when you hear a commotion downstairs. It isn't unusual for the trainees to get out of hand from time to time, fights break out, things get heated. You dismiss it and go about your work. 

"Six new treadmills? What the hell are these people doing to them?" You sigh and type the invoice number for Sports Equipmentz LTD into your system. "Billy is gonna get an ear full for this one."

There is more comotion and you look at the closed door. Another fight? Billy doesn't stand for that kind of stuff on the training floor. He would have stopped it by now. Actually, no one should be in the facility except you and Billy this early. What the hell is that noise.

You push up from the desk and go to the window beside the door, peeking through the blinds. From what you can see nothing looks out of balance. Then you hear gunshots and your stomach churns, cold and sick. There is no live fire allowed in the facility. All firearm training is done off site. 

"Fuck." You flip the lock on the door and look around for something to barricade the floor to ceiling window beside the door. There is nothing you can move alone. You flip off the light and head to your desk, grab your phone and dial Billy's number. 

No answer. You sink down under the desk and pull the chair in close. Maybe if someone does get in they will think the office is empty and move on since the desk looks unused. You reach over and shut down the computer tower, then reach up and pull down all your paperwork to clear the desk. 

Thumping from the bathroom on the other side of the office makes your heart pound. Someone is on the upper floor with you. A gunshot. Tears well up in your eyes. Why didn't you let Billy get you a conceal and carry? Why didn't you do that gun training six months ago? Because you're afraid of guns and you couldn't trust yourself not to hurt someone on accident. Fuck. Fuck! 

The door handle jiggles. You cover your mouth and try dialing Billy again. The phone disconnects as soon as it rings once. Goes straight to a voicemail. You can't remember if he is with a client today. There are voices outside the door, then a gunshot so loud you know it's just on the other side. You close your eyes, press your face into your knees and try to imagine you are invisible. 

The door opens, not with a kick, but unlocked and you can't breathe. You can't move. They're moving around the room. Billy's desk first. Papers are rustled, then the footsteps grow closer. You shrink yourself smaller, arms in pain from holding your knees so tight. 

"If they took you, I swear to God I will-...there you are." 

You look up and Billy is knelt down, arm on the desk as he looks at you. He's a fucking mess of what you can only assume is blood and God knows what. "Billy, oh god for fucks sake." You cry and he shoves the chair away to pull you out onto his lap. 

Never have you clung to someone so hard in your entire life. You press your face into his neck, hand digging into his back harshly as you cry in relief. 

His hand slides up your back and cradles your ribs on the left. "Hey, hey." He murmurs softly and you stop crying so hard. " What did I promise you when I hired you?" 

"That I would be safe. That no matter what I would be safe and a-all I had to do was paperw-work." 

"That's right." Billy pulls you back gently, tugging your shirt to guide you. He looks horrible, but none of it seems to be from his own injuries. "Aw, fuck. You're a mess now." 

You look down at your shirt and it's got blood on it. "Oh god. Oh god wh-who..."

Billy shakes his head. "Don't think about it too much." He presses a kiss to your temple, hand on the back of your head. "Close your eyes, don't look at it."

"What happened?" 

"I'll tell you later."

"I didn't know what to do."

"Hey, no, no shh. You were a good girl. You stayed quiet, stayed down and locked the door." He rubs your back and pats your side. "We're going to get out of here and I'll handle the situation from the apartment."

You nod and peek your eyes open for a second. "It's bad out there isn't it?" 

"It's not pretty. I'll get you outside and we'll get out of here, don't worry." 

"Okay."

_____________________

You had never been to Billy's place. Never had a reason to go. It's more industrial than you expected, modern industrial chic. Posh. Very expensive obviously, but that was Billy. Well dressed, well spoken. He looked the part to play the part. 

He set you up in a large bathroom and gave you clothes, a shirt and a pair of pajama pants. They might fit alright, Billy is quite a bit slimmer than you are in the hips and thighs. 

You look in the mirror and clench your jaw. Your peachy colored blouse is ruined, your sweater is fucked. Your face. God your face has someone else's blood on it. Across your cheek and nose where you had pressed your face into Billy's neck. 

There is a pile of washcloths and you grab a few, soaking them and scrubbing at your skin. You pull your clothes off fervently, desperate to be clean of strange blood. The shower is large, open and ready to be used. So you do. You get in and turn the water on and sit on the floor, processing. It was all a blur. Everything happened so fast. Was it even real?

Some time passes and you see the door open. The water is getting lukewarm as it cascades over your skin. You don't even care if he sees you naked you're so out of your own head. 

"I'm going to head to Anvil. The police have arrived to investigate the break in."

"Okay." You croak, not looking away from the wall opposite you.

"You can stay." Billy walks into the room and leans over the shower to turn the water off. He squats down beside you and offers you a towel from the warmer by the toilet. "Mind getting out of there for me?"

"Billy, what happened?" You look over at him and he looks...normal. He's in a blue sweater, dark jeans, boots. It's the most casual you've ever seen him. He's always been a suit man to you. Here he looks like a guy you'd meet at a bar and share a few beers with. The guy you'd take home and laugh about jokes with from stupid comedian on TV. It's strange, but warming. 

He helps you up and wraps you in the fluffy gray towel. "Your feeling? About the clients I met with?" 

"Yeah?" 

"You were right." He slicks your hair back off of your face. "They got wind that I was looking further into why they wanted my employees. It was for a human trafficking operation. I don't do human trafficking, and I was going to decline the offer. Some snitch at the Rodgers Estate let it out that I was asking questions. I guess they thought they could clear their tracks by killing me."

"O-oh."

"Mmm. I didn't think they would do something in broad daylight but here we are. Amatures." Billy steps back and runs a hand over his hair. "I called the police, said that I got a notification that the building had been beached through an unauthorized entrance. It's not a lie. Technically they did. Thankfully I wasn't there."

You step out of the shower and grab the clothes he gave you from the counter. "But you were. You...you killed those men." 

"No, I incapacitated them." He crosses his arms and pulls his lower lip between his teeth. "It was me and you or them. We were the only ones in that facility. I wasn't going to let them hurt you."

"H-how do you explain that?" You sit on the toilet and Billy leans on the doorframe. "What if-" 

"That's my job sweetheart. You worry about yourself, here. I gotta go meet the cops." He pats the wood a few times and looks out into the hall. "Call me if you need anything. I promise I'll answer no matter what."

You nod. 

"I'll be back later."

____________________

Hours pass and you become familiar with the apartment. It's huge, the penthouse of a very expensive building downtown. It has two bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen and dining area, a living room, a balcony that wraps around and has a fire pit and a small private pool. It's more luxury than you could ever afford. Not that Anvil doesn't pay well, because it does. This is just far more than you could ever make. 

In Billy's room there aren't any personal touches. It's clean, picture perfect even. Like at any moment someone could come and take photos to sell the place. There is a picture on his bedside table, the only thing that isn't straight from a design catalog. It's you and Billy with a few investors. Your first meeting he ever brought you to. How could you forget? He bought you the dress literally an hour before the meeting because yours ripped in the back. It was possibly the most embarrassing thing you've ever done in front of a boss. He didn't make you feel bad or anything, he simply asked your size, stopped at a shop on the way to the dinner and got you a dress. It was just that easy, that normal. 

You set the photo down and lay back. Your eyes close and you imagine what Billy is like outside of work. Of course you've gotten a taste of that, all the banter and shared stories. Nothing too deep but enough to keep conversation going. You probably shared more than him, way more. It was like when you started talking to someone you couldn't stop. You just, information overload the poor person. Usually people get spooked away, or they tell you that they don't care or don't need to know. Not Billy. He just listened, gaze fixed on you while you talked. Maybe that's why you like him so much. He listened. He cared. 

"Cozy?" 

You roll over and open your eyes to find Billy in the doorway to his room. "You're back. I didn't hear you come in?" 

"There is a bed in the other room y'know?" He chuckles as he goes to sit at the end of the bed and pull his boots off. "Or do you just like mine because it's bigger?" 

"Oh yeah, yours is much bigger. Comfier too." 

He hums. "Go through all my shit?" 

"You know it." 

"There's my girl." He looks back and he's smiling. "I was getting worried about you. You seemed pretty shaken up."

You sigh and shake your head. Of course Billy doesn't think about how you've never been in a dangerous situation short of falling from a tree when you were ten. To him gunfire and blood were in a day's work as an ex marine special operations. "I think I'd be more worried about you."

Billy turns and crawls up the bed, leaning with his head on his hand, elbow propping him up. "Why's that?" 

"Been a while since you saw live action hasn't it? You're not worried about PTSD?"

"I've seen plenty of action since I got out. I know the risk I take running the company I do. It hasn't happened before now but it was bound to eventually."

"Right, yeah."

"Do I scare you?" 

You shake your head. "No, not really. I know you've done things, seen things that I couldn't even imagine. It's part of who you are, who you were." 

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that. It was them or us. You know that right?" 

"Y-yeah. I know." You pick at the bedspread and he bumps his hand against your knee. 

"You alright? I tried to keep you...away from it. I know you aren't like everyone else."

"I'm not ex military you mean." You feel your chest tighten. "I'm a civilian. I can't defend myself." 

Billy sits up and lays a hand on your back. "Hey, hey."

"I shouldn't stay at Anvil. I should just go somewhere else. I can't do this, Billy, I'm scared what if this happened again?" Tears spill over and down your face. "I-I can't." 

"I will never let anything happen to you." He turns your face to look at him. He's warm, his lips plush, eyes on yours. "You can work from home if you want. I'll stop by and bother you and make you tell me to shut up." He smiles a little as your lips turn up at the telling him to shut up part. "You like that?"

"I don't know, but I think you do." 

Billy laughs softly, his smile wide. "Maybe I do. You noticed that?" 

"Maybe." You wipe your eyes and he brushes a stray tear away with his thumb. "Why do you care so much? I'm just your assistant." 

"Because I love you."

"W-what?" You hiccup as your breathing stops for a moment. 

"You're like family. I trust you with everything, I tell you everything, you're my girl." Billy runs a hand through your hair. "I can't lose you." 

"I don't-...I'm just-" 

His lips press against yours and your eyes fall closed. It's an innocent kiss, soft and loving. "If I read this wrong all this time, you gotta tell me." He murmurs, head pressed to yours. 

"No, you didn't. I just, you just caught me off guard." 

"Yeah?" He smiles, nose scrunching up against yours. He places his fingers under your chin and tilts your head up to kiss you again briefly. "You're sure it's okay?" 

You nod and he pulls back to kiss your temple, holding his nose to your hair and cradling the back of your head. 

"Get some rest, I've got some calls to make." He climbs off the bed and heads for the door. 

"Are you leaving?" 

"No." 

"Good." 

He walks back quickly and kisses your cheek. "I mean it. Get some rest."

"I would if you'd just go already."

"Oh. You think you can just get rid of me?" He crawls back on the bed and you fall back as he straddles your hips. "You think you can boss me around huh?" He starts tickling your sides and you squeal, thrashing under his surprisingly strong hold. 

"Stop! Stop! I yield!" 

Billy stops and bends over, bracketing your head with his arms. "I knew you'd be fun to torment outside of that stuffy office." 

"I hate tickling." 

"Oh that's very obvious. I've made a mental note, highlighted it in yellow and everything." He bumps his nose against yours. "I'm gonna find everything that makes you tick." 

You reach up and run a hand over his hair that's flopping forward from lack of product. "Expect to get as much as you give." 

"Oh I do." His lips ghost over yours as he speaks. "I look forward to it." 

You shove his head to the side and he flops over. "Don't you have calls to make?" 

"Maybe." 

"Go make your calls. I'm going to stink up your bed and rifle through your drawers more." 

"I expect no less." He says, getting up and going to the door once more. "Let me know if you find anything you like, yeah?" 

"Get out!" 

He just cackles and you close your eyes. This is really happening. Funny how the world works in mysterious ways. You never thought you'd be the one to snatch Billy Russo off the market but here you are, and you're pretty damn proud of it. 

The end 

-----------

Header image by delicate-venus

Thank you so much for reading, please reblog to support content creators. -A

[chadillacboseman]

A Chance Encounter

Pairing: Sub-Zero (Bi-Han) x GN!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex, a date gone wrong that is very creepy, so warning for that.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Sub-Zero fuckers come get y'all juice!!! Seeing him on-screen really awakened something in me lmao. I'd let that cold man ram an icicle through my chest. I tried to keep him in character as best I could lol.

--

The first time the Lin Kuei warrior had fucked you, it was a chance encounter. Something fast, frantic, and unexpected. Just a way for the assassin to sate his lust and turn his focus back to his mission.

Bi-Han had been on the hunt for a champion, a police officer in the city where you lived. He had entered your apartment complex, phasing through doors and searching for his target when he had entered your unit. You were exiting the shower when Bi-Han saw you- naked body slick with water as you searched for a towel. You had screamed, startled by the presence of the hulking, armored assassin standing in your bathroom. Had it been any other person or any other circumstance, Bi-Han would have simply killed you without a second thought. But something ignited in him at the sight of your body- a spark he had long forgotten he was capable of. The sex was frantic, hard and fast against the wall, with Bi-Han pressing into you desperately, trying to corral his powers and not harm you. When he finished, a thin sheen of ice covered your bathroom wall and the assassin disappeared into a frozen fog without a word.

--

The next time the assassin found you, it was late and you were in your bed with your hands between your legs, whimpering in the darkness when the room grew suddenly cold. Bi-Han's voice startled you as he stepped forward out of the dark in a rush of icy fog. "I can take care of that for you." The assassin shucked his codpiece and let it fall to the floor. He ripped the blankets away from the bed and exposed your body, his white-blue eyes raking over you hungrily. Bi-Han grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you to the end of the bed with a grunt before hiking your legs over his hips. When he pushed inside you, the temperature in the room dropped at least ten degrees. The assassin's touch was cold but not unpleasant as he gripped your thighs and fucked you. This time was different, less frantic- Bi-Han moved with intent instead of desperation. He wasn't exactly gentle, but he took his time as he thrust into you, cold fingertips digging into your flesh and leaving small hints of frost in their wake. The assassin paused to pull his mask away from his face, and you were struck by how handsome he was beneath it. To your surprise, he dipped his mouth to yours and took your lips in a frigid kiss. When he breathed it was like you were outside on a winter night, inhaling crisp air before a snowstorm. When he finished inside you, you let out a whimper at the cold sensation and he chuckled as he replaced his mask. You watched as he affixed his codpiece and disappeared into the darkness with one last burst of chilled air.

--

You didn't see the assassin for several weeks after that, and you assumed your fling was over. You didn't dare speculate on his strange abilities or what you assumed were bloodstains on his armor- at least the sex was good. You met your date for the night at a mediocre restaurant that claimed to be Italian. Your date was boring, an accountant from the inner city who spoke incessantly of their own job and hobbies, barely letting you get a word in edgewise. When they suggested, after dinner, that you head back to their place, you politely declined, and they instead offered to drive you home. You accepted and your date dropped you off at your apartment complex with a polite wave. You were eager to shed your shoes and nice clothes and take a hot shower to forget about the monumental failure the dinner had been. You were so engrossed in your thoughts that you didn't hear your date follow you in the door. When you turned around they were standing in your kitchen, the polite demeanor and demure smile gone. You panicked, searching for a weapon of any kind, but found nothing. "What do you want?" Your voice shook as you spoke. "I just think that if someone pays for your dinner," they closed the distance between you and you bristled, feeling fear coil in your chest, "you should probably pay them back somehow." "Get out." You tried to calm yourself, steadying your voice. "I don't think I will-" The room grew suddenly cold, as if a window had been opened on a winter day. Your date paused as ice began to form at their feet, coating the tiles and creeping onto their shoes. "What the fuck?" The armored assassin materialized from the darkness behind you and your date's face paled as they backed up a step, raising their hands as if to surrender. Bi-Han took a step forward, his eyes fixed on the target before him like a stalking leopard. The ice was creeping higher, coating your date's shoes and working its way up their ankles. "Leave." With those words your date turned on their heel, shattering the ice, and made a run for the front door. You turned slowly to face the armored warrior- with the mask, his expression was impossible to read, but his eyes looked full of fire. "Thank you…" you murmured. "I should have killed him." He said simply "I appreciate you not doing that," you replied with a weak smile, "The mess." You gestured vaguely. You thought you heard a quiet chuckle filter through the mask, but you couldn't be sure. Bi-Han backed you up against the counter, his cold hands moving to your hips and maneuvering to bend you over the cabinets. You heard a thud as his codpiece fell to the floor, and he shoved your pants roughly down past your knees. You saw ice crystals beginning to form on your kitchen window when he pushed inside you. You let out a shaky moan as he started thrusting, his fingertips leaving bites of frost on your skin as he fucked you against the cabinet. One of the assassin's cold hands laced into your hair and pulled your head back. You let out a whine and he picked up the pace, bucking his hips against you with every thrust, and pushing you against the counter. You felt the burning heat of your climax building in your gut, threatening to boil over at any moment. One particularly deep thrust made your whole body clench and you let out a strangled cry of pleasure just as the warrior spilled inside you with a grunt. Bi-Han pulled out of you and his cold seed dripped down your thighs, sending shivers up your spine. The assassin stepped back and replaced his codpiece, tucking his softening cock back into his armor. "I wish I knew your name-" you blurted out as you pulled your pants back to your waist. He paused for a moment and considered you, his piercing eyes staring through you like an x-ray.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment before he spoke-

"You can call me Sub-Zero."

[objection-argumentative]

Principal’s Office

Isla-14

I’M GOING TO PUT A TRIGGER WARNING OF RAPE HERE 

PLEASE DONT READ IF IT UPSETS YOU.

Isla was sat outside the Principal's office, crying her eyes out when you and Rafael entered the room. "What's wrong, Isla?" you questioned your daughter. "I'm sorry, mom, I screwed up, but please can dad stay out here with me. I don't want him in there?" Isla pleaded with you "No, Isla, I'm going in to speak to principal Duran with your mother, and whatever it is you done, you will be punished." you stare at your husband with an open mouth. He was an asshole to his daughter. "Mom, stop him, please!" Isla was crying in your chest as you cuddled her. "Ah, the parents of the delinquent child is here," principal Duran cockly boomed out. You kissed Isla's head and walked into his office with your husband.

" I'm sure we can get this straightened out with the appropriate punishment for my daughter," Rafael spoke as he sat down. "Well, that will be that your daughter is expelled, Mr Barba" Duran smiled smugly. You didn't like him at all. "Excuse me? Don't you think that is jumping to conclusions?" you pleaded with the Principal while Rafael flared his nostrils in anger. "Well, why don't you see what your angel has done and then you will understand." Mr Duran turned the Ipad towards your husband, and a video of Isla having sex with a boy pops up on the screen. You feel sick to your stomach and the image of your daughter having sex.

The Principal put his feet on the desk and sat back in his chair. "Now, Mr and Mrs Barba, you understand why we have to expel her, she is barely fourteen, and there are videos of her going around the school like wildfire of her having rough sex with a much older boy." both you and your husband stand up.

"Hold on a minute", you begin to speak, but the Principal cuts you off. "Here we go, momma bear protection, I spoke to both your daughter and the young man in question, and I deemed it was a consensual relationship. I don't see why we have to drag a boy through the mud when he goes to college in two short weeks. She only cried rape because she wanted to see if she could get away with it."  You looked at the Principal, stunned.

"My daughter was raped no matter what you think, You sick bastard! I want the name of that scumbag who raped my daughter now, or I swear to god I will wipe that smug smile off your face!" The Principal laughed while Rafael shook with anger.

"Mr Barba, I know it's upsetting, but you need to face facts. Your daughter isn't the type of girl a boy wants to take home when she sleeps about with older boys." Your husband stalks around the desk and punches the Principal. He pulls out his cell and goes into the bathroom. You think your husband is going to get tissue for the Principal's bloody nose, but when he comes out ten minutes, he has an arrest warrant for the Principal on child pornography and a search warrant for the total school's technology, including students tablets, laptops and cellphones.

"The squad is on their way, Carino. They need to take Isla's statement and her friends. Plus, they will need her cellphone and her laptop." you nod your head and exit the room and walk into the room where Isla is crying. You throw your arms around her and let her cry into you. "It's ok, baby, shhh, he won't hurt you anymore, I promise." She continued to sob in your neck. "Mom, he raped me, I promise, I didn't make it up, I swear" Isla was hyperventilating. You were calming her down when your husband busts through the door.

"Isla, come here", Rafael requested cooly. Isla gets up and walks over to her dad crying. He grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. Princesa, I'm sorry, I will get this bastard Isla. Me and your mom won't rest until he is rotting in prison. I promise you that." He had a look in his eyes that made shivers go down your spine. "Baby, why don't you go with Detective Cassidy and Sargent Munch, and they will take the details of what happened" Isla nods her head and leaves the room with the police.

"Carino, how did we miss this?" Rafael was heartbroken. "I'm not sure, Rafael. The one thing we should be able to spot, and we are completely blind to it," you start to cry, and Rafael swops in and cuddles you. "Y/N, we will get him, I promise you, but you know we are off the case, and we aren't allowed anywhere near the station or the office. We will be put on leave." you cry into your husband's chest while your squad investigates your daughter's rape.

*6 hours later* You, Rafael and Isla were cuddled on your bed while the little mermaid. Isla was asleep in between the pair of you. Isla was cuddled into Rafael while you stroked her hair. Your work cell went off, and you jumped to answer it. "Barba, Yeah, Yeah, I got it Liv, We will bring her down, Liv." you look back at your husband and fourteen-year-old daughter. "I got it, Liv. We will be about an hour." You kill the call and walk back into the room. "Baby wake up, we need to go to the police station" you gently shake your daughter awake.# "What's going on?" your husband questioned. "Isla needs to do a line up" Rafael gets up and helps Isla up. You, Rafael and Isla piled into the car and headed towards the station.

*Four weeks later* It was a brutal long trial. The defendant Josh Mobley was an eighteen-year-old quarterback scholarship boy that was charming his way to the Jury. He made Isla out to be a slut and that he was set up by the daughter of a detective and an ADA in the sex crimes unit. The ADA on the case was none other than Peter Stone, and the defence was a newbie Janelle Thompson. She represented Rita's practice.  When Rafael found out Rita was defending his daughter's rapist, he was livid. Not only was it a kick in the teeth with their friendship, but Isla called her aunt Rita.

When the Jury came back, everyone was tense. Isla was clinging to Rafael hard while you rubbed her back soothingly.

"In the charge of rape, we find the defendant Josh Mobley Guilty In the charge of creating child pornography, we find the defendant Josh Mobley Guilty In the charge of distributing child pornography, we find the defendant Josh Mobley Guilty"

You never had such as satisfying guilty before. Isla let out a long breath she had been holding while you watched Mobley cry as he was dragged away to the tombs. Rafael walked Isla out of the courthouse and down the stairs away from the press, While you spoke to the squad and thanked them. You decide a family night with the kids, and Lucia is well and truly needed after the past few weeks. Isla was a long way from herself, but with the support of her family and her true friends, she will get there.

[midnightsconspiracy]

Office Romance?

Office Romance? - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: It's Mouse’s first day in the 21st district. Jay introduces him to the whole team, except you who seems to always be out until you finally meet at Molly’s and completely hit it off

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2193

Requested: Nope but my requests are currently open

A/N: This is my first time writing for Mouse and the longest fic I’ve written, so hopefully everyone likes it! :)

Masterlist

It was Mouse’s first day in Intelligence, it was finally the day that he was going to turn his life around. No longer living in sketchy areas and gaining felonies but instead becoming a legit member of society and working for a reputable institution, the Chicago police department. He had been recommended to the boss by his friend and former military buddy Jay Halstead, who unlike himself, had managed to get a proper holding in society after being discharged from the Rangers. This was finally his chance to show Jay and everyone else who cares about him that he could do something else good with his life and that he was more than just his time in the military.

Meeting Jay outside the district, the two men embrace in a warm hug, briefing saying their hellos and reminiscing on old times before they ascended the stairs. They pasted Sergeant Platt, Jay giving her a small hello in which she ignored and Mouse, despite having only met her once, gave her a polite smile. Punching in the passcode alongside his handprint, he unlocked the door climbing the second set of stairs up to the place he would call ‘home’ for hopefully years to come. Reaching the top Jay paused, Mouse quick to follow his actions.

“Guys this is Mouse, Mouse this is the Unit. That’s Dawson, Lindsay, Olinsky, Atwater, Nadia, and Sergeant Voight’s in his office.” The people in the room all averted their gaze from their own individual work, with Voight even exiting his office to greet him as well, to greet the newest member of the team, all presenting him with a momentary smile, short greeting, or handshake.

“Oh and Y/LN and Ruzek are currently out chasing up a lead right now but should be back soon,” Jay quickly followed up, trying to familiarise his buddy up with as much as possible to make him as comfortable as he could, knowing mouse struggled with rejoining society.

“Ok-k, well it's good meeting everyone, and I hope I can be of assistance to you all,” he mumbled out nervously, he admired Jay and Voight for giving him this opportunity but it still didn’t stop the feelings that they had a level of superiority over him due to their jobs. Taking him downstairs to his own tech room, he prompted Mouse to take a look around to get accustomed to his surroundings.

“What do you think buddy?

“I think it will do the job just fine,” he smiled back to jay reassuring him that he could do this.

“Ok, well if you’re all good I’ve got work to do myself,” Jay announced before turning and leaving Mouse to his own devices, finally leaving him to prove himself worthy.

—————

Mouse’s day was hectic, to say the least. Members of the team were constantly in and out of the tech room or calling him, getting him to give them vital information as quickly as he possibly could. But he thrived in the conditions present, what previously was extreme anxiety when he first entered turned into adrenaline. He hadn’t experienced such a high-intensity situation since his time at the Rangers, but he loved it. The Rangers was the place he felt most at home and alive, but the ‘accident’ had caused him to be honourably discharged. He wanted to be back in Afghanistan with Jay and his other military buddies desperately, feeling as though he had a place there, that he was actually contributing something good to the world, but this would do for the time, this was the best thing for him right now.

From what he could figure out, the unit was dealing with a human trafficking case in which multiple girls were found dead by the Docks, thrown into a container, and starved to death. Pulling up the names of multiple different men, he stared into their eyes as the pictures came up on his screen and felt no remorse for them as he heard each man be dragged into the cage one by one. The team managed to successfully find lead after lead, deciding to either all roll out together or keep sending Ruzek and Y/LN out. It was already about halfway through the day and Mouse still had not met the said people, only occasionally hearing their voices or being told to send them the information he was finding.

—————

As the day further progressed things started to flatline, leads found previously being a bust and nobody seeming to find anything worthwhile. The whole team worked tireless upstairs as Mouse found them the material they needed downstairs. Finally, after an hour of absolutely nothing, Dawson managed to get vital information from a CI and so a feasible lead was afoot. As the others were gearing up and getting ready to finally make some arrests, Jay popped his head into Mouse’s tech cave.

“Mouse I need you to send me the information on Spencer Phillips ASAP,” he was just about to walk out when he turned his head slightly to utter a few final words to his friend,

“And good job buddy, we really appreciate it.” Mouse smiled as he looked up the information for Jay, maybe he was going something good for the world, especially if his dearest friend thought so.

—————

The lead had been successful and two arrests of notable people in a human trafficking ring were arrested. The case was not fully closed, the organisation still up and running, but the perpetrators of the murders were put away to never see a day in the sun again. That was enough for Voight to warrant the members of his team a break to go home, rest and in the younger detective's case visit the local bar, Molly’s. Coming back up to the main room Jay greeted Mouse, patting him on the back for a job well done, he had underestimated his friend, thinking that he may struggle with his job just as he had coped with his anxiety and PTSD after coming back from the Middle East. Walking further into the room Mouse finally got to see the infamous man who had manage to evade his line of sight for the whole working day, Adam Ruzek. Approaching him he finally got to introduce himself.

“Hi, it's nice to finally meet you”

“Yeah, you too Mouse, I feel like I’ve been swept off my feet the whole day, you coming to Molly’s”

“I wasn’t planning to but sure why not?” Mouse had a vague idea of what Molly’s was, Jay sometimes talking about the bar run by first responders, but he was excited to finally see it for himself. Turning to Jay, who was packing his stuff up at his desk, he assumed he would want to go to the bar alongside the rest of the team,

“Molly’s then?” He smirked knowing Jay would never turn him or drinking down,

“Of course.” Leaving the district together, the two guys headed in the direction of the bar relieved to finally get away from work and have some downtime. Unbeknown to them you were in the changing room with Kim chatting away, excited to go for a drink and ready to go upstairs to meet the new tech guy. Little did you know you would be very disappointed when you did so.

—————

Arriving at the bar the men settled into the unit's usual booth at the back of the bar, flagging down Hermann to get two beers so that they could finally unwind from a long day of stressful events.

“The rest of the team should be here shortly, but how was your first day buddy, tell me all,” Jay asked hoping that his friend liked the position so that he could work towards becoming an outstanding member of the community and chuffed that he was working alongside his best friend once more.

“It was good man, I don’t really know what else to say about it. Um..I finally felt as if I was doing something with myself, I felt that adrenaline I missed from the Rangers, but I miss it, the thrill, the relationships, everything really Jay.” Jay sighed not knowing what to say, annoyed at his friend for missing it, he had spent so long trying to pull Mouse out of that bad place, a constant cycle of anxiety, depression, and PTSD, that it hurt him that he wanted to go back. The tense situation was interrupted by the rest of the team arriving, taking up the rest of the room in the booth with Erin snuggling up to Jay and Adam getting up to buy a round for the table. All the usual suspects were there enjoying themselves, except one, you.

You had gone home to shower and get out of your work clothes before making your way to meet the rest of the team for some rest and relaxation, maybe nestling a few beers throughout the night. Making your way into the bar, you passed members of firehouse 51, making small talk with them before moving towards Hermann to get yourself an alcoholic beverage. Thanking him you turned to walk over to your unit's table, spotting an unfamiliar figure in the corner of the booth next to jay, which you could assume was the new tech guy Mouse.

“Christ Y/LN where have you been?” Your partner Adam boomed, already a little tipsy from the two beers he had consumed.

“Sorry I had to go home first, wanted to freshen up,” you smiled amused at how much of a lightweight Adam really was, despite claiming otherwise.

“Y/N this is Mouse, I don’t think you’ve met yet,” Jay interrupted you, drawing your attention away to introduce you to the nervous man beside him. Looking him dead in the eyes, you noticed how attractive he was, you had just presumed that Mouse would be less than average looking considering his measly nickname, but no, the man in front of you was undeniably handsome with a charming smile and deep blue eyes.

“Hi, it's nice to meet you, sorry I didn’t meet you earlier, seems like we were both at the wrong place at the wrong time,” you gave a shy smile, sitting down next to Kevin trying to look confident despite the nervousness you felt inside.

“I-its good to meet you to Y/N, seems like the universe is not in our favour huh?” He stuttered equally as nervous, for what you assumed was first-time jitters, but little did you know it was because he found you equally as attractive.

——————

Throughout the night you continued talking with all members of your unit but especially Mouse. You felt naturally drawn to him, not just because of your attraction but also the stories he told that fascinated you, some from his days in the rangers and other ones from his childhood. By the end of the night, you too had managed to move to sit next to each other, with the members of your unit seeing you hit it off immediately and so pushed you together hoping for another office romance. Completely enamoured by him, you didn’t even notice that the other people in the bar were starting to trickle out slowly and Hermann’s last order was thirty minutes ago. Finally noticing your surroundings after the bartender had called your name and told you it was closing time, you checked your watch noticing the late time. Turning to Mouse you smiled and softly spoke about the revelation,

“I didn’t even realise how late it was, maybe we should get out of here, wait wait! Not like that, well unless you want you.” Noticing what you had said, you shyly smiled hoping he wouldn’t think you were too weird.

“That sounds good,” he cheekily smirked moving out of the booth, allowing you to get out too and heading towards the doors of the bar, saying a brief goodnight to Hermann on your way out. You walked down the street together to where your cars were parked, going at a slow pace, trying to extend your time together for as long as possible. Locating your car you stood next to it as you went to say your goodbyes to the handsome man in front of you.

“Thank you for keeping me company tonight, I really enjoyed it”

“Yeah me too, but I was hoping we could do it again sometime, just you and me?” Completely taken aback you stuttered to think of your response, you weren’t not thrilled about it at all, just completely surprised that he liked you as you did him.

“I’d love to Mouse, give me your phone,” handing you his phone you put your number in, silently hoping he would be one of those guys that actually use your number instead of ignoring it completely. Proceeding to hand it back, you both stood in silence not knowing what to say. But in this situation, no words were needed, only actions. So when he leaned in to place his lips, you gladly reciprocated the affection, wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss. Little did you know this would lead to a lifetime of desire and devotion.

[gucciwins]

Breakout Room

Harry is chatty and Y/N wants out

Word count: 1162

A/N: I dislike breakout rooms but I was in class and this came to mind. I thought I’d share it with you all.  A short piece that I hope you enjoy. 

____

"Alright, class, it's now time for breakout rooms to discuss this week's readings that we had to do for Bad Feminists by Roxanne Gay. Groups of two or three. See you in 15 minutes." Professor Green said with a cheerful tone, happy to put you all in rooms of quietness. 

You dreaded when this time came. It's not like you to interact with others in person. Why do they assume you want to do it as well through a camera that freezes every time you move to pick up a pen? 

Group 4, accept or decline why is it an option when if you refuse, you stay in the main session with your Professor who will ask many questions and accept is dealing with others who may or may not make you question why they are in that class. Men in a gender's studies class are there to be educated, not to do the educating. Thankfully, Professor Green never gets tired of putting them in their place. 

You feel your palms begin to sweat as your screen begins to load, one person exiting as your camera focuses. There on the screen staring at you with a dimpled smile is a boy in a black hoodie where only half the top of the design can be seen. It's an exciting design, and if you were any other person, you would ask to settle the burning question, but you won't. 

He waves and begins to talk, but you can't hear him because he forgot to take off the mute. No, you don't tell him because this is amusing. 

You turn on your microphone and stare at yourself through the small box displaying your name. Your hair is up, and you're wearing a grey crew neck with three different colored birdhouses, as well as a Blue Jay, and a Red Robin. It's soft, and you got it thrift shopping for a dollar. 

It's an eight-thirty class, meaning you don't look awake enough yet. 

Times like this, you wish you liked coffee to wake you up, you prefer tea, but it seems your roommate finished the last one and didn't bother throwing out the box.

"I'm logging off. I'll log back in fifteen." You move your mouse to the red leave button but stop when you hear his voice.

"You're going to leave me alone." A whine heard in his voice, but that isn't what surprises you. It's the accent. He's British. 

Most of the time, you forget how large your university really is when you only interact with your department. 

"Are you in the states or back in your native country?" You ask because this would eat you alive if you didn't ask. 

"The accent always gives me away. No, I'm still here. I have an apartment close to the university. My lease is up after I graduate. No point in breaking it." Harry shares that as if you are an old friend. "I'm assuming you aren't leaving me anymore."

"I don't like breakout rooms." You're not sure why you didn't just leave. You don't owe him anything. This is your first meeting if you can call it that. 

"Well, sorry to hear that. I love them." Harry shares. "I love talking with people." 

"Sorry." You don't know why you apologize, but it felt like the right thing to do

"Well," He pauses, seeing as he now has your attention. "We could just talk." 

"Why?" 

He looks down at his lap before once more looking up, you're not sure if his cheeks went red or he's sweating, but he does look embarrassed. "You have a nice voice." 

"Uh… thanks." 

"I'm Harry." He puts us a piece sign in greeting. 

It's different, you think. 

"I know." 

Harry's mouth drops. "How?"

"It's displayed on the screen." You say before you see him look down, nodding because your name was there as well.

"Right." He scratches his neck, nervous tick, you assume. "How do you like this class?" 

"It's great. Thinking of declaring it as a minor. Not that many units." You tell him surprised at your willingness to do that,  

"Barely? Shouldn't minors be declared sooner? I'm assuming you're a senior or whatever." 

"A junior, but I would be double minoring." 

"Impressive. I'm also a junior. Scary how close our last year is. What's your major?"

"Psychology," Your camera shakes, your cat headbutting the laptop, causing you to laugh, but Harry never questions you. "And yours?"

"Kinesiology."

You hum, nodding your head. 

"What's that look?" Harry is quick to question.

You shrug. "Just typical of you frat boys, if I'm honest." 

"I'll have you know I'm not one of them." He tells you smugly. 

"Shocker." You roll your eyes, getting him to laugh at your bored tone. 

"It's just that I'm too pretty for them." Harry fakes a hair flip causing you to burst out into laughter. 

"Very humble as well." The sarcasm dripping from your voice. 

You both laugh, causing you both to fall silent. 

"See, this was nice, a virtual date." You swear his eyes almost pop out when he realizes what he said. "Shit, what, not a date, not that you're not pretty because you are, but uh.. I'll shut up now."

"You're not so bad yourself, Styles, but you already know that." 

His camera goes black for a second before he returns, looking more composed. "Do you want to talk again?" 

"If the zoom gods allow it." You joke. 

"You're funny. I bet your laugh is even better in person." Harry has his head propped on his chin, smiling at you, a bit loved up if you're honest.

It makes you feel flustered; gosh, when has a boy ever managed that. Before you can reply, a text pops up on your screen, informing you there are sixty seconds to return to the main session. You don't even think about before accepting and leaving Harry alone without a goodbye. 

The last half hour of the class goes by quick. You push all thoughts away from the pretty brunette you spent fifteen minutes talking to. Professor Green bids you all goodbye, and you're out after typing out a "Thank you, Professor." Not giving you time to think about it twice. 

____

After scheduling out the following week's readings and assignments, you log in to your email, always needing to be up to date. Also, to get rid of spam that you may have begun to receive. There is one from a professor letting you know they submitted the letter of recommendation. You type out a quick thank you, it took a lot of courage to ask, but thankfully it got done, meaning a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. 

You stay staring at one email. It shocks you, honestly. 

hstyles@gmail.com 

Subject: ZOOM ABANDONMENT 

You laugh at the subject, not at all, having expected him to reach out.

It seems it wouldn't be the end of your interaction with Harry Styles, but the beginning. 

[stephspurs]

ONLY ANGEL - A John Stones Fanfiction

STEPHSPURS. - THE MASTERLIST ONLY ANGEL - FANFICTION MASTERLIST

This is for @bluemoonstonesy - thank you for enjoying this fic even when I was hating it. Your comments always reassured me that it was worth sharing. Enjoy the final part to a story that captured so much of my own soul amongst its words! Love Always, Steph xx

PART 7

There is something to be said about a person who has ever felt that their heart is too dark to ever see the sun again, and yet, love always finds a way. Love is many a splendid thing, and as Josephine could testament, this angel heralds the coming of a love that neither her or John could fight.

Despite the distance, both physically and emotionally, both Josephine and John felt the same sense of deja vu wash over them. The lights go down, the screen turns off and the spotlight focuses itself down the centre of the runway - readying itself for the first Angel to grace the sparkling pink runway. Similarly to 12 months prior, the curtain draws back and Angel Josephine is standing there is all of her beauty ready to stun the crowd of socialites, celebrities, athletes and fashion royalty with the most exciting runway of the season.

Just as he was 12 months prior, John Stones was sat front row and got to witness the girl that stole his heart, and ran away with it, show the world just how beautiful she truly is. However there was a difference to the girl that stood before him, just as physically beautiful as she has always been, there was a different kind of beauty emanating from within. She glowed. Like a heaven-sent Angel from God himself. There was a shift, between the crowd and the Angel, between John and his Angel.

Just like the last time, John hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of the girl for fear of missing absolutely anything. He could feel himself falling head first into the spell that her presence seemed to place on him, her aura pulling him in to her and he was sure he never wanted to leave. Hell, he never wanted to leave in the first place - she did & he had to let her. He could feel her sense of calm, of confidence in herself, she deserved to be here and everyone watching right now knew it without an ounce of doubt. She was made for the world to see.

A year ago, he thought the champagne was playing tricks on him but knowing everything he knows now, John truly understood that there was an angel before him. Despite all that had gone on between them, he couldn’t deny the overwhelming emotion of pride that surged through his body as she walked past him to pose at the end of the runway. Standing up and beginning to boisterously applaud, alongside his best mate Kyle, as she began her descent down the runway.

Just like the last time, she made eye contact with him and he held it - not daring to break her gaze, hell-bent on communicating with her through their orbs. A softer smile spread across her face, a more genuine smile, possibly even a smile of relief. At that moment John knew, with his whole heart, that this was a girl that has found her worth, she loves herself and she’s ready to be loved. Sending him a wink and blowing him a kiss before smirking to herself, Josephine exited the stage, praying to any God that would listen for John to be at the afterparty.

Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show Afterparty - Manchester, United Kingdom.

Stepping out onto the quiet balcony, a stark contrast to the glitzy after party going on in the top floor of the hotel behind them. As if he could sense her, because he always could sense her soul when she was nearby, John straightened his back and took a swig of his whisky, his hand not currently holding the lowball was stuffed inside the pocket of his suit pants as he stared into the view, anticipating her next move. When nothing came, or maybe he just had enough of waiting for her - he had been waiting for the last four months after all - he spoke.

“I thought I could do this, be here tonight with you looking like that in the place that we were made, but I just don’t think I can. I went through a phase where I tried to hate you. It all would have been much easier if I hated you. Because right now, I would leave this after party and I wouldn't miss your body. But my heart won’t let that happen - I’ve spent the last four months trying to hate you and failing.” John spoke with a soft tone, the tone of a man who had given up on his quest to forget her.

“I could never hate you, you saved me from myself. Better yet, you showed me that I was worth saving. I will forever be yours, John” Josephine spoke as she joined John on the balcony’s edge, forearms leaning on the railing, looking out over the City she could honestly say she loved as much as the man stood beside her.

“So why won’t you come back to me? You had to know that I would have taken you back in a heartbeat, no questions asked. I said it before and I will continue to say it - you’re it for me, Josephine.” John questioned into the night sky, relishing in the familiar feeling of fighting a losing battle, Josephine and her head.

“Because John! You’re just full of love and life, you’re wild and free and unapologetically you. You chase every dream and possibility and opportunity thrown your way. You’re more than I could ever possibly dream to be. How could I ever deserve you?” Josephine threw out desperately, the words bubbling out of her throat as the tears streamed down her face, both fighting with each other to escape from the hell going on inside of her body.

John stood there with his hands on his face, sliding down to cover his mouth so that she wouldn’t see how clenched his jaw was at her explanation. Exasperated and desperate for the pain to end, John asked her the one question that had been playing on his mind the whole time that they had been apart.

“You didn’t even know how to love me, love us. Tell me this Josephine, did you really burn down our home just to excuse all of the pain that you went through? And tell me, is it all better now that you’re gone?”

“We started out as strangers and now we’re strangers again, just without the excitement of the unknown that surrounded us when we first spoke at the VS after party last year. I had never felt a rush like it, I didn’t know what to expect from you. But believe me, no matter how much you may regret it, I am so glad that I got to know you in a way that no one else ever will. The excitement of the unknown is nothing compared to the comfort of knowing you’re home, and Josie, you’re my home, I will always come back.” John spoke with absolute certainty, with such strength and sincerity that it gave Josephine the push she needed to give her head and heart what it had decided it deserved.

“When it comes to you and me, I'm one big apology - for all that I put us through. I don’t regret a single second I have spent with you, John, you’re something special. You’re the someone who is worth the wait of all the years of my heartbreak. I took your hand, your help, and who I am now standing in front of you is who I have wanted to be all my life - happy, free, loved and capable of loving. I love you with everything that I am, everything that I hope to be, I am ready to be yours for as long as you’ll have me”

FIN.