#so we’re gonna ignore that for the sake of fantasy

[paxny]

I am very late to this, but I just found out about Tom Cruise’s Cake List today.

………

I want to try that cake SO. BAD.

[aries-writingblog]

Enemy Fire: 12

Summary: There's a new kid in town, and she's got a city to usurp.

Pairing: Jason Todd × F. Reader

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: language, violence, guns and weapons, explosions, micro aggressions/ hate speech

AN: photos are from Pinterest; I kind of hate this fight scene, it feels rushed and repetitive so please bear with it

Rising dawn was always a spectacular sight; Bright, fiery tendrils of light, staining the clouds in various shades. The blue light of day, chasing the night and drowning out the stars.

YN breathed in, her eyes slipping closed.

Today was the day.

By nightfall, come hell or high water, she would be free.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine her life without Adrian. Not without a pit forming in her stomach, gnawing at her. Stabbing holes and ripping through the fantasies.

She just had to survive the day. She had to do what she had to do, to survive the day, one last time.

Yn’s eyes opened again. The sound of boots hitting concrete bringing her around.

Red Hood approached from behind; He had removed his helmet, leaving him in only a domino mask. The ragged, J shaped scar on his cheek in full daylight.

His white strands gleamed against the daylight.

“This is the place?” Jason asked, peering down the ledge.

“Yep.”

YN pulled her legs up, from where they had been dangling over the edge of the building. Her boot laces dragged across the stone, drawing her attention.

Jason stared down at the silent alley. Unease in his belly, gnawing at his organs. Roiling uncomfortably.

It wasn’t exactly distrust in her; She still felt like a wild card. He wasn’t sure what she would do, if it came down to the wire.

He appreciated her willingness to act on certain impulsivities. No one else he knew would light an entire building on fire, in search of one man.

But if he were in the building at the time of the fire, it would be entirely different.

“Before I go in there, I want to know just how wide of a zone I need to give you.”

“Hm?” She glanced up from lacing her boot. His expression was grim. “Oh, you’ll be fine. May get a little warm.”

He exhaled, his cheeks blowing out his free hand brushing through his hair.

“Are you gonna go apeshit?” He demanded, cutting to the chase. “Do I need to have the fire department on call?”

“We walked through the plan— I’m sticking to the plan.” She defended; Crossing her arms over her chest, YN lifted an eyebrow, wondering if he had already forgotten. “We clear on the plan?”

Jason scoffed, his eyes rolling.

They had walked through the plan nearly seventy times— he wouldn’t forget it in a million years.

“I’m not happy about it.” He announced, gruffly.

“Poor thing.” She cooed, her eyes softening. Mocking him.

Heat flushed across his face, searing his neck and ears.

YN smirked, relishing the pinkish hue taking over his face. He couldn’t even blame it on the morning cold.

“We’re losing time.” Jason grumbled, shoving his helmet back on his head.

YN snickered, pushing herself to her feet. She stretched her arms out, then up above her head. Her Kevlar creaked against the leather, her head tilting both ways to crack her neck.

A groan fell from her lips, her chest pushing out. Though her body was padded with protective gear, Jason could still see the partial outline.

Realizing that his mind had been distracted that easily, he snapped himself out of the stare. Nearly ashamed that he had ogled her so blatantly.

She didn’t seem to notice; Simply attaching the end of her grapple cable to her harness.

“Up and at ‘em, boys— Santa’s coming to town.”

Jason turned halfway around, bewilderment plaguing his mind.

“What?” He demanded.

YN latched her grapple on the hook and perched on the ledge. Leaning back, she let the cable support her weight as she tested the suspension.

“Let’s go.” She ordered.

Jason latched his own cable, deciding on ignoring her eccentricities for sake of saving time. Planting his feet firmly, he bent his knees to begin repelling down.

YN leapt from her position, her feet colliding with the brick. Jason followed immediately after, chasing her all the way down.

At the bottom, they detached their cables and fell silent as they worked in tandem.

He passed her a pair of knives, which she tucked securely into her holsters. In return, she shared a Glock, fully loaded with an extra clip. He tucked it into his belt, without a word.

YN hurried to stand in front of the warehouse door, Jason hovered behind her. Yn’s hands came up, palms out. He tapped her side twice, giving her the ready.

A large ball of fire built between her hands and she launched it at the door. With a loud bang, it flew from It’s hinges, the metal crumpling, melting into an unrecognizable hunk that collided with the wall behind it.

The two filtered into the warehouse hallway, parting ways.

Jason kept his weapons leveled, keeping himself prepared.

They had to have been expecting an attack— otherwise, Adrian was more stupid than YN gave him credit for. Even if not, the noise of their entrance should have raised an alarm.

So where was everybody?

Jason turned the corner, out of the hallway and into a large, cleared area. A few crates were stacked against the far wall, a pair of closed double doors led further into the warehouse.

He stopped walking, standing in the middle of the expansive room. His weapons raised.

Risky business.

Jason closed his eyes, slowing his heartbeat. Keeping his breathing low.

That damned Lazarus Pit had to be good for something.

A faint, racing heartbeat filled the silence. He held his breath— waiting to hear more.

Multiple heartbeats. All rapid, thudding beats.

Jason exhaled, opening his eyes.

He spun around, firing two shots.

The body hit the ground, a dense thud sounding off. Simultaneously, gunshots fired from behind him.

Jason whipped back around, bullets sparking off his helmet. Bodies funneled through, all attempting to set up a defensive formation. He cursed.

No where to hide to reload, no where to even retreat to for reprieve.

He grunted, a bullet lodging into his vest.

“Incoming!”

Jason dropped to the ground, wasting no time in pondering her actions. His reaction proved to be valuable, as a large swath of flames forced the men before him to either back away or be consumed. A barrage of bullets followed, raining over his head.

He rolled over and scrambled back, away from her line of fire.

YN had been slowly moving forward, firing into the group of men. Jason pushed himself to his feet beside her as she dropped the now empty and useless weapon. All of the goons across from them were in various states, all sprawled on the concrete, a vicious red seeping out of their wounds.

“Jesus!” Jason barked, facing her. His modulator warped his words, but his tone was crystal clear; And he was pissed. “You trying to kill me?”

“If you don’t stay out of my way! I said incoming.” She grouched, stepping over a downed body.

“You didn’t say you were the incoming!”

YN rolled her eyes, her head tilting over her shoulder, her body following as she faced him. A half- alive foot soldier aiming for Jason’s back made her eyes widen.

“Duck!” She shouted, shoving him down by the shoulders. Jason grunted as his knees popped. She sent another fireball against the enemy. “I don’t have time for specifics!”

She turned again, beginning to jog in the opposite direction.

“Make the time!” Jason called, following without hesitation.

When he entered the next area of the warehouse, he cursed under his breath.

He should’ve hesitated.

Men in black Kevlar poured from the entrance across the room, weapons pointed directly at the two invaders.

Jason fired into the group, several falling to their knees. Only to be replaced.

“Take the left!” YN ordered, leaping from the line of fire to the right.

“Fuck you.” Jason grumbled, following her half assed direction, diving to the left. “Fuck you, so much.”

YN slung a knife, the blade slicing through the air, lodging into the neck of an enemy. He fell to his knees, grasping for the handle.

She ripped it out, sending a knee to his face. Swinging around, she forced the knife into another’s thigh, elbowing his face. He fell backward with a shout.

All the money Adrian spent, preparing for this, and he didn’t even get the poor bastards any helmets.

Jason reloaded, firing more bullets into exposed skin. He watched YN as closely as he could, to avoid a stray bullet in her direction.

She was moving so fast, a blur on the battlefield— it was difficult to keep up with her, but not impossible.

As the last body fell, YN straightened, wiping blood from her face. Jason approached, leaning down to scavenge for new weapons. He was nearly out of ammunition, and he had the terrible feeling that it wasn’t over that easily.

“I’ll find Adrian, you keep these idiots away.” She instructed.

Jason reached out, snatching her elbow. She jolted backward, nearly bumping his chest.

“I’m not letting you go in there by yourself.” He countered.

“I swear to Christ, Red.” She spat, yanking herself away from him. The whites of her domino mask were glowing orange— a clear indicator that this was something she needed to do alone. “You do not want to be in the room when I find him. Please, stay out here.”

He hesitated, lips pressing together tightly.

“I don’t like this.” He shook his head. YN smirked, her head quirking.

“Good.”

YN sprinted along the empty hallway.

She hadn’t seen any more hired men, but she could still hear gunfire and warfare happening from across the warehouse.

She knew Jason could hold his own, and she certainly knew it would’ve been better to have two of them against Adrian.

That didn’t mean she wanted him there.

No doubt, Adrian was going to pry and poke— attempting to disarm her mentally. And that was something she didn’t need anyone to witness. It was nothing Jason needed to hear.

Besides, he wasn’t fireproof. For him to stay safe, he needed to stay away from the furnace zone.

Emerging into the final room of the warehouse, she slowed to a walk. Glancing around. Just like the other rooms, there were wooden crates and boxes stacks on pallets against the walls.

Giving her no where to hide.

An ambush was impossible to create against him.

But it also meant he couldn’t hide, either. He was stuck in the open too.

“If it isn’t my darling niece.” Yn’s body froze at the voice behind her. Her heart thudding against her ribs. Her fists clenched at her sides, igniting the flames. She glared over her shoulder. The man emerged into view, a daring smirk on his lips. “What you don’t speak, anymore?”

“Not to you.” She growled.

“What’s the problem, eh?” He asked, hands in his pockets. His dark hair gleamed under the warehouse fluorescents. A malevolent grin curved his lips. “You know this scene… this is familiar. Your family always seems to find their way to the wrong end of my gun, huh?”

“Fuck you.” She hissed, her nose stinging.

Not now; She swallowed against the onslaught of emotion building in her throat. Now was not the time to let him rile her up. He was looking for a reaction. Betting on her losing her temper.

She wouldn’t. Never again.

He couldn’t do this to her ever again.

YN fueled the flames, releasing them in large balls of fire. Adrian dodged them, without blinking.

She knew going into this that he would know her every move; He had trained her, after all. They were methodically the same.

Her hope was that she could overpower him. Her entire plan was based around her strength. Attacking at dawn, sunbathing as the sun lifted, charging herself. She had limited her use of her abilities to keep her stamina.

Saving everything for this.

“I told you, sweetheart, you had a choice here,” Adrian explained, he pulled a pair of guns from his holsters, keeping them in a loose grip. “This all could’ve been over. Could’ve been back home, working through this entire misunderstanding.”

“Nuh-uh.” YN laughed. She held her palm out, driving Adrian back with a path of flames. He clenched his jaw, reluctantly obeying her boundary. She was trying to disrupt his aim. “I’ve figured some things out, Adrian. Since I left, your organization has crumbled. You never held any authority unless I was there— a threat, you could hold over people.”

He stopped moving, leaving himself open for an attack. YN heaved a barrage of fire, heat blazing backwards.

Adrian ducked, hitting his knees and unloading his weapons. YN yelped, a bullet ripping through her shoulder.

“That’s what you’re good for.” Adrian taunted.

YN removed her hand from her shoulder, blood dripping from the wound. The good news was that it went straight through; The pain was intense, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it would’ve been, had the bullet stayed in.

“You’re weak without me.” She spat, her chest heaving. Lungs working overtime to get enough oxygen.

“You’re one to speak— when you bring in vigilante help.” He staggered to his feet, releasing the empty magazines, shoving the weapons back into the holsters. He didn’t have enough time to reload; His knives would have to do for now. “Do you think he won’t turn you in? Or kill you— Red Hood’s history isn’t as straight and narrow as you may think.”

YN wiped sweat from her face.

“I’m not delusional about my alliances.”

Adrian scoffed, licking his lips. The air was drying out, from her fire and heat. Burning the oxygen, making it harder for others to breathe.

“What do you know about alliances? You’re young— inexperienced. Naive.” Adrian grunted, launching knives at her. YN dodged, the blades clattering to the ground behind her. “All you’ve ever been good for is a weapon.”

A knife aimed directly between her eyes flew from his hand; YN brought a hand up, blowing it away with a gust of flames.

Her lips curled into a sneer.

“I am more.”

Got her. Adrian smiled; It had taken a few tries but he finally found the way under her skin.

“That what your mommy told you?” He mocked.

“Shut up.” YN barked, stepping back.

“Do you know what your mother told me?”

“I’ll make you burn!” She shouted, a wall of flames bursting forth, again. This time they surrounded them— forming a ring that had begun to creep closer. Burning inward.

Closing him in.

“You don’t even have a conscious mind of your own. That why you teamed up? Someone to make decisions for you— tell you exactly what to do?” He called. “You like being a puppet.”

YN roared, flames bursting from between her clenched fists. Sparks flew across her body, the flame crawling up to her elbows.

Without giving him a chance, Yn launched fireballs in quick succession. The air shimmered with heat, her hair stuck to her neck.

Adrian closed in; Moving further in to her close range zone, forcing her to stop throwing her fire and start using it for defense.

His knives glinted against her firelight. She managed to disarm him, a punch being thrown at his nose.

Catching his cheek, he stumbled back half a step, before wrangling her into a headlock. She warmed her body, singeing his clothes before jutting an elbow into his gut.

He didn’t let her escape easily, raking his nails over her face. While she was still turned, Adrian grabbed her hair, yanking her against his chest.

His spare hand found another knife from his belt.

“You’ve always liked being mindless, it’s what your kind is good at.” He hissed, stabbing upward. The blade cut through her armor, sending radiating pain down her side. She fell to one knee, clutching at her ribs. Adrian sent an uppercut to her jaw, sending her flying backward, her head colliding with the concrete. He pressed his boot against her chest. “Stay where you belong, fucking meta.”

He kept her in place as he pulled another gun from his belt. YN groaned, trying to wriggle from under his weight. The barrel leveled at her face, his lips curving into a self congratulatory sneer.

YN grabbed his ankle, her entire body lighting on fire. Adrian tried to yank away, to avoid the scorching temperatures. With her tight grip on his leg, she sent him toppling to the ground beside her.

He kicked her stomach; YN coughed, nearly gagging at the pain. The wind being knocked from her chest. But she didn’t surrender her grasp on him.

Instead, she subdued him, blasting heat at his face. Crawling up to her knees, she knelt against his chest, pressing her kneecap into his sternum. Without giving him a chance to acknowledge his situation, she started launching bare knuckle punches at his face.

She kept going, unable to stop herself from beating him into a pulp.

Panting, running out of steam, she finally laced her hands around his throat. Her knuckles bloody and bruised.

Within that second of switching her hands, Adrian drove another knife into the outside of her thigh.

YN released a guttural noise— a battle cry— as she compacted all the fire and heat in her chest. It pooled from her extremities, building. Barely contained rage from years of his bullying, the abuse, her parent’s murders.

Every single insult and jeer, all the times he used her to do his dirty work. Every single kill that was at her expense. Every drop of blood she shed in his name.

It all began to forge one massive ball of hatred and anger that sat heavy in her chest.

Her hands squeezed tighter around his throat— his brown eyes bloodshot and straining.

She stared him down, her war torn scream reaching a fever pitch.

One last drop of anger, and the surface tension shattered.

The cup ran over.

An intense ring became all she could hear and her vision went white. Pressure released beneath her hands.

Euphoric energy recoiled through her— red hot and blistering. Ricocheting between her bones, threading between her muscles, overtaking her senses.

Blinding, divine retribution.

Reality crashed through her revelation; Her vision came back slowly, as she blinked, it cleared.

She sat on her knees, her hands pressed to the concrete. Steam curled from her body, flames danced in her peripherals, lapping up any fuel it could get and demolishing her surroundings.

Chunks of concrete were uprooted and pushed in a loose circle around her. Sunlight filtered through the smoke— the ceiling was gone.

YN panted, greedily inhaling any available oxygen. Her fingers curled, the joints aching as if they hadn’t been moved in hours.

That’s when she noticed: Adrian’s body was no longer beneath hers. In fact, he wasn’t anywhere.

A blackened portion of concrete smeared a rough estimate of where he had been.

A manic smile tugged at her lips, a weak laugh burst from her lips.

“Stay where you belong, fuckwad.” YN spat, her breath coming in bursts.

He was gone.

Adrian was gone for good.

YN fell back on her ass, where she managed to maintain balance for half a second. Vertigo plagued her in an instant, sending her onto all fours, retching until nothing more came of it.

She whimpered, her muscles searing in agony. Joints creaking in protest— her head pounded. The flames around her were blurry and she wasn’t sure if it was tears or if she had liquified her organs.

She fell flat on her back, lying amidst the fire. Crackling and burning all the assets the warehouse contained.

YN coughed, something wet splattered her lips. Her limbs felt too heavy to even lift, and her mind was foggy. She wasn’t even sure she would know what it was if she investigated.

Jason groaned, his ears ringing. Slumped against a wall, he shook his head, attempting to focus his attention.

The warehouse looked like a bomb had gone off.

Fiery debris littered the ground— bodies were scattered among the carnage. The building itself seemed to be crumbling.

What the hell did she do?

YN.

Shit.

Jason unsteadily rose to his feet, his palms pressed flat to the wall behind him. His leather jacket was peppered with holes, his pants were torn and his helmet was shattered. Otherwise, by his short scan, he figured he was mostly unharmed by the blast.

Nothing was broken, at least.

He staggered off the wall, his feet moving unceremoniously toward the doorway. He had been in the hallway, right across from where he could hear Yn and Adrian arguing.

Then he had heard a scream and then… the blast. It was blurry, right before that.

There. A body lay motionless in a clear zone— the floor blackened around them.

Jason stumbled his way over the rubble, narrowly avoiding fallen chunks of ceiling. Smoke billowed from the massive hole in the roof, the fires in this area were steady.

This was definitely where the blast originated.

But the only person he could see was YN.

At least, he hoped it was her. He had to assume the best— that Adrian was buried under the rubble and YN had miraculously avoided it.

It would be one hell of a turn around for his luck, something that didn’t happen for him.

“YN?” Jason called. Smoke filled his lungs through his cracked helmet. He coughed, blindly pressing forward into the expansive, demolished area. He crouched down, crawling toward where he had spotted her. “Fucking, hell.”

Her suit was half destroyed; The Kevlar shredded and portions of the fabric were singed, blackened and burned beyond recognition. Even her domino mask was half intact.

Physically, she wasn’t fairing much better. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, scrapes and deep gashes littered her skin. Soot and dirt covered her in a fine layer of grime.

Had she been the source of the blast?

Jason called her name again, pulling at her suit. He was beginning to feel lightheaded, his movements were sluggish now. He knew they wouldn’t have long; The oxygen in the warehouse was rapidly being consumed by the growing flames. The smoke was another problem.

YN groaned weakly, barely lifting her hand to paw at his. A half hearted attempt to escape him.

“Get up.” He instructed, tugging at her arm. YN moaned again, her brow creased. He grunted in annoyance, pushing himself on to his knees gather her into a sitting position. “Get up— we’ve gotta move. Cops are gonna swarm this place. And I don’t care how fireproof you are, I’m not leaving you in this hellhole.”

She didn’t respond.

Jason planted his knee and scooped her into his arms. She gave weak protests, in the form of more whines than any real words. He ignored it as he held her close to his chest.

He found an exit rather quickly— the first real luck of the day— and burst through into the fresh air.

His lungs burned with oxygen flooding his body again. He coughed, his airways stinging.

He ached to drop to his knees and simply breathe but the body pressed to his chest forced his thoughts straight. He could already hear the sirens in the distance. The whole force would soon crawl the docks and he wasn’t planning on sticking around to explain himself.

His apartment was closest. He could make it there.

YN moaned again, her injuries being jostled as he picked up his pace. Jason hugged her closer, her face pressing into the crook of his shoulder.

[rock-and-compass]

The ending to Starstruck (season 3) is good, and logical. . . but is it satisfying?

**Spoilers**

.

Season two of Starstruck was RomCom perfect. It ended with Jessie and Tom kissing in a lake as their bemused friends looked on, the unlikely on-again, off-again, on-again love story is seemingly sorted in a sweet, romantic way so that we, the viewer, can let them go into the happy ever after feeling very good and very satisfied.

Season 3 rips that down in the first three minutes. Tom and Jessie have moved in together. Are happy. At first. But he travels a lot for work and she doesn’t want kids (right at that moment - it’s a glib comment at a children’s birthday party) and the relationship deteriorates until it ends.

Fast forward two years and Tom and Jessie cross paths at a wedding. Is there something still there? Series 3 spends 6 episodes trying to work that out.

Starstruck, the very premise of the show is everyday girl meets famous actor, so we expect and (in my case) want the whole Jessie and Tom thing to work out. I want to ignore the problems they have - different worlds, different lives, different interests and different wants - I want them to find a way to work them out this time around…

I get it. I do. Why make season 3 if the object of breaking them up at the beginning was to get them back together by the end. It would be pointless busywork of making a third season for the sake of making a third season. I get that. I see the logic…. So how do I explain my….dissatisfaction with the ending?

I think it’s because I watched it for the Rom Com fantasy. That’s on me. The show wasn’t romcom fantasy in season 3. Rather, It’s a mature, sensible, realistic comedy-drama that’s more about the changes that happen in friendship when marriage and babies start to happen in the group. And I knew it wasn’t gonna work out…The Irish electrician that Jessie starts seeing, and Tom’s French fiancée are both too nice and too compatible with their respective partners to be ditched, dumped or cheated on. But then the show teases the will-they-or-won’t-they dance all over again and it gets emotionally confusing. I think . . . I think, the viewer is supposed to be logical here. I think we’re supposed to see the problems and be hoping that J & T don’t get back together . . . But it doesn’t quite work out, at least not for me… I spent 2 seasons going for this couple and I came back to season 3 thinking I was going to see them progress and overcome relationship hurdles (fame, culture, the question of marriage & babies all spring to mind as possible story fodder) and I wanted the last minute romcom resolution. I wanted the magic…

So yes, the third season of Starstruck is fine. Better than fine. It’s very good and I kind of wished I’d stopped at season 2 and kept the fantasy ending rather than the realistic one.

[becca-e-barnes]

Take Care of Everything

This is my first ever fic for a writing challenge omg I’m so excited! Huge congratulations to @balenciagabucky for hitting 3K followers!! That’s such a huge milestone and thank you for organising such a fun challenge! So excited to read the rest of the submissions 💗 @dulceslibrary

Pairing: Personal Assistant! Bucky Barnes x Lawyer! Reader

Word Count: 3.5k maybe?

Summary: There’s only one thing in your life that your PA doesn’t take care of

Warnings: Smut, praise kink, pet names, protected sex (go me for writing something safe sex for a change), court mention, lil fluff, mile high club

Minors, do not interact.

“Un-fucking-believable.” You couldn’t stop the roaring boil of the blood in your veins, storming out of the court room with your long black gown billowing behind you. Being one of the top barristers in the country brought it’s fair share of high profile cases but this one had got on every last nerve in your body and you were out of patience.

The case itself wasn’t the problem. The issues were straightforward enough and applying law to fact, at the most basic level, your client had done nothing wrong. It should have been essentially cut and dry. The problem was the opposing council and the lack of intervention from the judge.

The prosecution had torn your witness to shreds. You had tried to warn the poor woman beforehand, as you did with every client, but on the stand, she had just crumbled under such an intense and downright ignorant line of questioning.

It shouldn’t have even been allowed in the first place. The judge should have stepped in and clipped the opposing council’s wings but the damage was already done and now you would have to pick the pieces up when court resumed on Monday.

“How did it go?” Your personal assistant must have been leaning outside the courtroom door for who knows how long, his suit somehow as neat and pristine as always, despite the fact it was the end of the day.

“Fucking dreadful, Terry was an asshole to Andrea and she lost it. Should’ve known he’d pull shit like that, he’s always a cunt on Friday evenings.” You practically spat the words out, heels clicking on the floor as you made your way down the marble hall to collect your things and begin to put an end to this miserable week.

Part of you almost wanted to laugh at how Bucky had developed the skill of being able to keep up with your pace without even having to look up from his blackberry. That only came from years of practice.

“Terry loves playing with fire. Fuck him. If anyone can put him in his place on Monday, it’s you.” Bucky still hadn’t taken a second to pull his nose up from his phone, his steps landing in perfect time with yours until you reached the chamber at the end of the hall, throwing the heavy wooden door open in front of you. Bucky filtered in behind you of course, closing the door behind him before slipping his phone neatly into his pocket.

“Thought your doctor warned you about your blood pressure? You gotta calm down.” Bucky’s face showed he was genuinely concerned, his eyebrows knitted together in disdain but there was nothing new there. He had worked for you for years now and truth be told, he was damn good at his job, not to mention the fact he was the closest thing to a friend your busy schedule allowed you to have.

“I’ll calm down when I’m dead. We need to get to the airport if we’re going to make that flight for the convention.” You pulled your wig off, setting it neatly into the little wooden closet before removing your gown, hanging it up alongside the other worn ones from earlier in the week so they could all be dry cleaned and back in the closet for Monday.

“It’s a private jet honey, it can’t leave without you.” Bucky laughed softly, knowing you were worked up and hoping a little joke would ease the tension.

You had to admit, you were so thankful for Bucky. He was devoting the prime of his life to making sure you had everything you needed, your life only felt so seamless because Bucky made it that way. He didn’t just manage your calendar and fetch you coffee like any other PA, he lived and breathed you. He went everywhere with you, crashing in your spare room at least three nights a week because you had both worked yourselves to exhaustion. He never missed anything. He had a solution for every problem, nothing was too big for him to tackle and given the chance, you two could absolutely take over the world one day. You confided in him, and he in you, getting to know every tiny detail of his life in the past few years, right down to that fact that neither of you had seen your family or been on a date in months. Hell, he’d went as far as buying you a packet of batteries one Monday after a particularly long and stressful court hearing.

“Here, got you these.” He had smiled mischievously as he handed them over to you, chuckling a little at your confused expression. “For your vibrator. Looks like it’s gonna be a long week.” You took them gratefully, joking with him that you really would need them, tucking them into your handbag and damn were they appreciated. The following morning he had asked how you had got on and you could only laugh. You didn’t tell him how thoughts of him had come into your head right as you had gotten close. Similarly, you didn’t tell him how painfully intense your orgasm had been when you imagined him on the bed with you, watching you come apart against the plastic toy. You could just picture his hungry gaze, watching how your body gushed as you released, nipples pebbled from arousal and your lips parted, a single whimper of his name escaping you as you rode out your high.

No, that was a little secret you would keep to yourself. He didn’t need to know your dirtiest fantasies. He was an employee. An employee that often arrived at your bedroom door shirtless and smirking, holding a stack of freshly made pancakes on the mornings he stayed over at yours but an employee nonetheless.

—————————

The cab ride to the airport would have been silent if it hadn’t been for the gentle tapping of your thumbs and Bucky’s racing over your respective phone screens. You had at least two dozen emails left to reply to and your eyelids were beginning to get heavy, the body heat radiating from Bucky in the cab’s back seat making you drowsy. You took a second, squeezing your eyes shut to force away the tiredness before going back to typing relentlessly.

The trip to the airport was short, Bucky had competed the preflight checkin so you essentially stepped straight onto the plane, taking a seat by the window, with Bucky taking the one opposite you. Takeoff was smooth as always, your phones picked back up as soon as it was safe to do so. But with the glowing screen came a fresh wave of drowsiness, your eyelids threatening to close of their own accord.

“Shit, Buck did you pack my -“

“Glasses? Left side of your bag, under the tissues.” Bucky finished your sentence for you, not looking up from his phone.

“And my -“

“Eye drops? In your makeup bag.” There it was again. What surprised you most was that Bucky didn’t even need to see you to work out exactly what was wrong.

“Do you really just take care of everything?” You huffed out a little laugh, digging through your bag, finding both your glasses and eye drops exactly where he told you they would be.

“Everything but you.” He chuckled, finally setting his phone down.

“What do you mean ‘everything but me’? All you ever do is take care of me. You organise my shopping and dry cleaning for god’s sake.” The whole notion of Bucky doing anything but taking care of you was just insane because you sure as hell didn’t have time to do any of those things for yourself. That’s what you hired him for after all.

“I didn’t mean like that. I meant like really take care of you. You’re so damn up tight.” You knew by the little chuckle that accompanied his words that he meant it affectionately but it still made you slightly defensive.

“I’m not up tight.” You protested. Normally you would’ve let harmless comments like that slide but the combination of your shitty day and the fact you were so sleepy made it impossible to not seek out conflict. This was the life you were used to after all. A life of treating almost everyone you came across adversarially. It was second nature to you at this point, inside and outside the courtroom.

“Come on, you seem to forget I am your calendar. You think I don’t know you haven’t gotten any in months? You should get laid, that’s all I’m sayin’. Wouldn’t kill you to have an orgasm every once in a while.” The words roll off his tongue like it’s nothing and truth be told, if you were in better form, this would have been a perfectly normal conversation between the two of you. Neither of you were particularly shy when it came to talking about your hookups.

You hated how right he was. You hated that you hadn’t been touched in months and Bucky knew that. You hated that most days, you were too exhausted to bother tending to your own needs. And you hated the warmth spreading through your body at the thought of Bucky finally taking care of you.

“Don’t know Buck, an orgasm might actually kill me with my high blood pressure.” You needed this conversation to turn more light hearted and you needed it fast, before your head became so clouded with need that Bucky picked up on it.

“I mean, I handle everything else for you. Wouldn’t even mind if that became part of my remit.” You almost couldn’t believe how carefree and nonchalant this whole conversation seemed, Bucky hoping you missed how he cock twitched in his trousers. Of course you didn’t. You missed nothing.

“If what became part of your remit?” You quizzed firmly, trying not to give anything away but knowing your eyes had gone big and doe-like, entirely of their own accord. This was a dream come true.

“You. Actually taking care of you. However you need.” His stare was intense, watching you keenly to determine whether he had horrendously overstepped and was about to get fired.

“Why would you even want to?” Your voice carried every single ounce of confusion you were feeling, staring Bucky down with an intensity that mirrored his own in that moment.

“You’re far too smart to act dumb.” He replied softly, knowing it was all or nothing now. If he was getting fired, he might as well be honest. His head tilted downwards, drawing your attention to the bulge growing in his suit trousers. Years worth of need and longing bubbling over all at once.

“If you want this, tell me. If not, that’s fine. But it doesn’t need to be anything romantic. Can be just sex. Whatever you want.” He was doing his very best to stay calm, his brain finally catching up with his mouth and considering that he was now in way too deep to just apologise and about to get his ass handed to him at thousands of feet in the air by one of the best legal minds in the world.

You’d never wanted anything more in your life. It was almost like Bucky was dangling himself in front of you. A piece of meat before a lion that could be snatched away at any second. You weren’t going to give him the chance, professionalism be damned. You were out of your seat and onto his lap in a flash, your pencil skirt hiked up to allow you to bracket his legs in your own.

“Are you sure about this?” Your quizzed softly, giving him one last chance to back out before you lost all self control.

“Do I feel like I’m not sure?” His voice was almost a choked whisper, his hands landing on your hips to press you down against his stiff cock.

You’d never seen him like this before. Horny and needy and losing himself in the feeling of you on top of him after years of fantasies. He had tried to curb the fantasies but his body didn’t allow him to. You were all he could think of on those lonely nights, a hand wrapped around his cock, groans and whimpers escaping until he came over his hand, a cry of your name pulled from his lips. He thought you would never know. And now here he was, the woman of his dreams perched in his lap, asking to be taken care of. Even the filthiest parts of his brain couldn’t have come up with this.

He could never have dreamt how you moved forward so tentatively, your lips hardly even touching his. He was used to seeing you confident, in control, the calmest person under pressure and yet here you were, unsure of yourself for the first time, he imagined, in your life. You both kept your eyes open for a little while, your lips sliding together gently, getting a feel for one another, up until your teeth sank into the plush skin of his bottom lip and an actual groan left him, his eyelids fluttering shut. The sound could’ve made you quiver with need. It was so alarmingly sexy, knowing your huge, sexy PA could be taken apart with the smallest touches. Suddenly, this seemed to be as much, if not more, for Bucky’s benefit than your own.

“Thought this was for me, hm?” Somehow your condescending court voice was pushing him over the edge. You felt one of his hands come up, tangling in your hair while the other wrapped around your waist, pulling your core flush with his clothed cock. He kissed you with a burning intensity that made your head swim and your pussy throb, loving how he was taking control but still hurtling further into a breathless, needy state.

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve thought about this. Didn’t think we’d be joining the mile high club.” He huffed out a little light laugh, using his grip on your waist to help you roll your hips over his growing erection.

“Couldn’t have been thinking about this for as long as I have.” You smiled softly, letting out a little gasp as his cock nudged you just right through your panties that you were sure had been soaked through already. His eyes went wide at your admission, his dick twitching deliciously underneath you.

“Fuck, that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.” He whispered, making you laugh at how eager he was.

“I won’t be able to wait until we’re off this plane Bucky. You gonna fuck me right here?” You teased him softly, your faces so close, your tiny hands running down his pristine shirt, toying with the buttons. When you began to graze his chest gently with your nails, it was like a switch flipped inside Bucky. He thrust up against you with a growl loving the yelp you let out, one hand now squeezing your ass, the other massaging your breasts through your blouse.

“Gonna fuck all the stress out of you. Gonna have you leavin’ this plane leakin’ and cockdrunk.” Somehow you didn’t even doubt his words and you had to admit, it did sound quite appealing to give up the control for a while, just letting Bucky take over.

“Gimme all you’ve got Barnes. Gotta make it worth my while or this is gonna be the last time you get the chance.” You couldn’t help but tease him before instantly realising that might have been a mistake, his lips burning hot as they worked against your own, needy, insistent and as always, eager to please.

His mouth was relentless to the point that you found yourself practically dry humping his cock, your hands laced in his hair while his untucked your blouse from your skirt, greedily holding onto any skin he could reach. He tasted of peppermint and coffee, smelt like the expensive aftershave you were so fond of and felt like a man who’s only purpose in life was to make you cum until it hurt.

“Need you. ‘Nside me. Now.” You managed somehow to pant the words out between the fervent slide of his lips over yours, his tongue dipping in to taste you, never wanting this to end.

The feeling of your much smaller hands landing on his belt buckle made him look down but he could’ve cum then and there at the sight that met him. The front of his suit pants were slick with your mess, proof that he wasn’t just dreaming and you really were needing this just as badly as he was.

“You’re so fuckin’ ready for it aren’t you? Look at the mess you’ve made. Why didn’t we do this years ago?” He was groaning, shifting in his seat to help you get his trousers and boxers down. You couldn’t help how you gasped a little at the sheer size of him, his cock thick and long, the head slick with precum, proud veins running up his shaft. He looked Godly. Two firm pumps was all it took to have his head thrown back against the plush leather seat, cursing and bucking against your hand, aching for more.

“I’m sorry Buck, I can’t wait any longer.” You panted, his lips attached to your neck now, kissing, licking and sucking all his frustration into your skin. If there was a time for foreplay, that wasn’t it. Neither of you had the patience right now.

“Thank God, needa feel this pretty pussy.” He all but whispered as you lined him up at your soaking entrance.

“Shit Bucky, you got a condom?” You asked anxiously, stilling yourself at the last second.

“My bag, zip compartment at the front.” He replied quietly and sure enough, that’s exactly where you found a packet. Tearing the wrapper off, you slid it down his length earning another groan from the huge man who was practically shaking beneath you.

“You think of everything.” You giggled, finally beginning to slowly sink yourself down onto him. Your laugh quickly turned into a breathy moan, your breath mingling with Bucky’s and you noticed how he made a very similar noise. You pressed yourself down slowly, your body having to adjust to the stretch.

“So tight, fuck. Shit, never felt a tighter pussy in my life.” He whispered when you were finally seated on top of him. He pulled your skirt out of the way to appreciate just how connected your bodies were in that moment. His cock just seemed to fit perfectly, so snug you could’ve cried as you began to slowly work your hips against his.

“Oh my god Bucky you’re huge.” You should’ve been embarrassed by how high and needy your whine came out but right then and there, you didn’t care.

“It’s all yours sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so good you never need another cock again. Gonna ruin anyone else for you - fuck.” Under normal circumstances you would’ve chastised him for being so overconfident but feeling how his cock nudged your sweet spot perfectly, you thought he might actually be right.

“Gotta fuck you angel, can’t just sit here anymore, ‘s driving me crazy.” He just couldn’t keep himself still any longer, lust burning behind his eyes in a way you had never seen in him before. You lifted yourself up slowly, feeling his length slipping from you, your walls fighting to pull him deeper until you sank back down, taking the whole length at once. The strangled cry that left Bucky was incredible. You repeated your gentle rise and fall, setting a decent pace. Every sharp fall of your hips tore a needy gasp from both of you, the sweetest spot inside you throbbing from the almost constant onslaught. It was everything you craved. Bucky was grasping at every curve of your body, lost in the feeling of your soft skin and the grip of your silky walls and the smell of your shampoo as you rode him, building speed as your pleasure built in your lower belly. The wet sounds escaping where your bodies were joined was nothing short of obscene, only fuelling Bucky to meet each of your thrusts with his own.

“Oh my god, I -oh oh- I can’t, can’t take it Bucky please.” You groaned, manicured fingernails digging into his chest.

“I got you honey. ‘s okay. Gonna take such good care of you when we get to the hotel. Just want you to cum once for me now, okay? Take the edge off. You feel so good wrapped round me. You know what else I can feel? Your pretty pussy is leakin’. Feel you drippin’ down over my balls. Never felt anything so hot in my ‘ntire life.” His fingers fell to your clit, rubbing neatly as if he had been trained to do nothing else. You were on cloud nine, your high so close but not quite there yet.

“Bucky, gonna cum. Oh fuck!” You whined, your orgasm hitting you like a train. You came with a loud cry, eyes squeezed shut, rocking against him more than fucking so his cock stayed buried inside you.

“Shit, how did you get even fuckin’ tighter. ‘M so close.” He whispered against your neck, broken and needy. Your high had all but subsided, aftershocks still pleasantly coursing through you as you went back to letting your hips rise and fall so Bucky could finish. It only took four more well timed thrusts before he was cumming with a shout, pulling you flush against him as his balls emptied into the condom.

You were both spent and sweaty but more satisfied than you could remember being in months, your chest pressed to his as you both came down, craving a little extra affection. Bucky held you for a good few minutes until you felt his cock softening, knowing he really should get cleaned up. You let him slip from you, pulling your skirt down to take your original seat across from him again.

“Gimme a second.” He whispered, kissing your forehead before making his way to the little bathroom, returning a few minutes later looking just as put together as ever, apart from his telltale grin.

“Jesus, we should do that more often.” You smiled quietly when he returned, letting him settle in the chair beside you this time, the dividing arm rest pushed out of the way so you could cuddle as much as possible given the limited space.

“I can’t stop now honey. That pussy is addictive.” He smiled, happy to see you leaning so comfortably up against him but even happier when he heard your soft little snores.

Taglist:

@harrysthiccthighss @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @justatirednightowl @littlecanadianlani @babebr @sebsbrokentoe @badgirlwolfy

[waka-chan-out]

Hello! Congratulations ^^ could you do oikawa + prompt 12? Maybe the reader is a dumbass, hates him, or is just pretending, idk, thank you!

300 Follower Event

Oikawa Tooru

Prompt 12: “Fine! I’ll say it.”

this fic was part of my 300 follower event. check out the rest of the submissions here.

timeskip college au.

word count: 2.4k

content warning: i—this is basically enemies to lovers without all the extra steps. oikawa is a brat. i am in love with him. let’s all have a good time. otherwise, the only warnings are someone walking in and technically unprotected sex. we can ignore that for the sake of the fantasy.

thank you so much! i liked your thinking with this one. it was very fun to write.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked. Oikawa frowned.

“Like what?”

“Like I have something on my face. If you have something to say, just say it.”

“I don’t!”

“Then stop staring.”

“Fine.” He looked down at his notebook. Then he huffed and laid his chin on his hand. You groaned.

“What?” you snapped.

“What do you mean?” He held up his hands defensively.

“You’re acting all pouty.”

“I am not!”

You set your jaw and glared at him. He was infuriating. He was also smart, which made it even more frustrating that you were assigned to work together — he seemed like he was good at nearly everything he tried.

He was also handsome. So handsome it made you want to slap him. No wonder his friend from home was knocking him around all the time. It was hard to stare that that pretty face for too long before you wanted to punch it.

“Now who’s staring?” he said, sly smile creeping onto his face. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your notebook, scribbling what was probably nonsense in your notes.

“It’s not so terrible for you to admit you’re attracted to me.”

You stared at him in disgust.

“What are you talking about?”

“I meant exactly what I said. You don’t need to get so defensive.”

“I’m not defensive.” You laughed incredulously, but you had to admit -- you totally sounded defensive. “You’re just wrong.”

“Ah, I see. We’re playing that game.”

You tried to return to your work, but he was staring holes into the side of your head, face tipped over into his palm, spinning a pen in his free hand. Without looking up, you pushed your notes over to him.

“So I was thinking you could present this part. Then I can talk through --”

“You’re very pretty, you know that?” he asked. You stopped talking for a moment, pointedly not looking up at him.

“I can talk through this idea and then we can take turns after that.”

He leaned in. “You’re also very stubborn. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Yes. They have. Can we work please?” You turned to glare at him but stopped midway through the motion. He was incredibly close, too close, a smug smirk plastered on his infuriatingly perfect face. You gritted your teeth.

“We can work. Do you want to work?”

Your face felt hot.

“Yes.”

He tipped back and crossed his arms.

“Okay. What am I doing again?”

“Were you not paying attention?”

“No.” His eyes fell to your lips. “I wasn’t.”

You took a shaky deep breath and turned back to your notes.

“Um. The presentation. You can . . . wait.” You paged through your notes. “I lost it. Hold on.”

“You seem flustered.”

“I’m not -- you know what?” You pushed your books away. “I give up. What is your deal today?”

He licked his lips and scanned your face, weighing his options. Then he dramatically held up his arms like he was surrendering.

“Fine, I’ll say it.” He leaned onto the table, closer to you than would have made you feel comfortable. “I find you extremely attractive.”

“Subtlety isn’t your thing, is it?”

He rubbed a hand over his face.

“Let me rephrase.” He sighed. “I like you. Very much.”

You stared at him.

“What am I supposed to do with that?”

He tipped his head to the side and grinned.

“Well, I can think of any number of things.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yes.”

You scanned his face. He was completely serious. Even with an eyebrow arched and small smile on his face, he wasn’t joking in the least. You sighed.

“Fine.”

His eyes flew open.

“What?”

“I said fine.”

A disbelieving smile played at his lips.

“Fine, what?”

“If I do something about it --” You looked away, unable to continue while looking at that smug face. “Will you finally shut up?”

He grinned, still looking unsure.

“Are you serious?”

You smacked his arm.

“Yes, I’m serious. If you keep acting like that I’m gonna send you home.”

“I’ll be good.” He crossed his heart. “Promise.”

You stood and nudged at his chair.

“Then scooch.”

He raised his eyebrows, that cheeky smile still plastered on his face. God, you wanted to knock that right off. He pushed back from the table and you threw a leg over him so you were straddling his lap.

“My, I was hoping you’d say yes but I didn’t think you’d be this eager.”

You grabbed a fistful of his soft, impeccably styled hair and yanked it back. He let out a small yelp and stared at you in surprise.

“What did I say?”

He let out a breathy laugh.

“You told me not to act like myself.”

“I did, didn’t I? How do you think you’re acting right now?”

He grinned and bit his lip, a gesture that should have been off-putting but somehow worked perfectly on his face.

“If you want me to stop --” He strained forward against your hand in his hair, leaning very close to your face. “You’re gonna have to make me.”

“Done.”

You him closer and kissed him.

It was desperate, aggressive, laced with frustration and the slightest bit of self-satisfaction. He slipped his tongue into your mouth eagerly, smiling slightly when you returned the gesture. You could feel his confidence returning in every shift of his lips. He laid his hands high on your legs, squeezing them slightly as you pushed yourself further into his lap.

You lightly bit his lip and his fingertips dug further into your thighs.

He was greedy, seemingly entirely focused on getting closer to you, constantly closer when when he wrapped his arms around you and every inch of your upper bodies were pressed together. You expected him to be more selfish, maybe a little lazy. You thought he’d make you chase him. Instead he was entirely wrapped up in you, sighing against your mouth when your tongue slid against him just so.

You were faintly aware of pressure between your legs. He was clearly excited, impatience becoming more apparent as your hips moved against him.

He gasped into your mouth. You hadn’t expected that reaction from someone like him. It surprised you so much you had to pull back and laugh. He somehow kept a light smile on his face when as he frowned.

“What’s so funny?” he asked. You laughed and leaned against his shoulder. His brows raised and he waited for you to finish.

“I -- it’s nothing.” You covered your face with your hands. “You’re just . . .” You looked between his legs.

“You don’t have to call attention to it! You’re in my lap. What options did I have?”

“Think about your grandmother.”

His nose wrinkled.

“Absolutely not.”

“Oo! Think about Iwa-chan,” you teased. Oikawa looked off to the side like he was seriously considering what you said.

“Actually . . .”

“Oh my god. No. Stop that.”

“You’re right. You’re much prettier than that brutish Iwa-chan.” He leaned forward and kissed you gently. It didn’t last long, but when he pulled away you felt like your ears were ringing.

“Are we going to finish what we started or shall I head home?”

You glanced at the time and glared at him.

“If you tell anyone about this I’ll kill you.”

His face lit up.

“Really?”

You glared at him.

“Fine,” he said, leaning further against the back of the chair. “Do your worst.”

He inhaled a sharp breath as you gripped his hair and forced your lips together.

If your first kiss was aggressive, this one could almost be described as vicious. He yanked you against him, but not before you could start pulling at the buttons of his shirt and pushing your hips against his. He let out a small sound, so quiet it sounded like he was purposefully holding back to save his pride. You got his shirt open and took a moment to appreciate just how strong and soft he looked. Another perfection stacked on perfection. No wonder he had such a shitty personality sometimes. He had to make up for the rest of his strengths.

You ran your hands down his chest and he shivered. He shifted his lips away from yours and ran them down your jaw. He landed a few open mouth kisses on your neck as he slipped his fingers under the hem of your shirt. He only pulled his mouth off of you to tug it over your head, then immediately returned and kissed along your collarbone.

You sighed and wrapped your arms around his neck, melting into the warm press of his hands. He grabbed your hips and rocked them against him.

You both gasped, not realizing how sensitive you were to each other until you were more active about it. You prayed that you wouldn’t regret what you were about to do, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

You hopped out of Oikawa’s lap and you silently thanked the universe that you weren’t wearing real pants. Having to shimmy out of a pair of jeans just to have sex with Tooru Oikawa was something you would have never lived down.

“Really?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“Shut up before I regret this.”

He held up his hands in surrender, smiling lightly to himself. You readjusted your clothing as he frantically undid and tugged down the front of his slacks.

You swung back onto his lap. He hissed a bit at the more direct contact and stared up at you with wide eyes. He looked almost precious like this, like a kid playing with a toy for the first time. You tried to force the image out of your head.

You brought your lips back to his, kissing him hard as you brought your hand between his legs and tugged down the waistband of his briefs. He hummed in surprise but didn’t break the kiss. He finally seemed to grasp reality when you tugged your underwear to the side, and positioned yourself over him.

“You really wanted me didn’t you? Is this all you could think about while we were—”

You slid down onto him with little resistance. His eyes shut and he choked on the rest of his words.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you asked.

He let out a bitter laugh and tipped his head against your chest.

“Rude.”

You buried a hand in his hair, tugging slightly and reconnecting your lips as you started moving. He brought his hands to your hips to help you shifted on top of him. You were almost annoyed with how good he felt inside of you, somehow being just enough but not too much and hitting you exactly where you needed him. Your motion in his lap was more eager than you wanted to seem, but you felt like you genuinely couldn’t help it.

Oikawa pulled away from your lips and buried his face into your neck, swearing quietly. You summoned all the strength in your legs to go a little faster, allowing yourself to give in to the feeling as much as you wanted to hold back.

You held a little tighter to his hair and he began letting out nearly silent whimpers, soft and high and breathy. They were somehow both very unlike him and exactly what you would expect. He moved his hands from your hips to wrapping his arms around your waist.

He swore, voice muffled against your chest. You hummed in agreement, head tipping back as he pulled you down harder onto him.

One hand pulled away from your waist and fell between your legs.

“Can I?” he asked. You nodded without looking at him and he beamed. He slipped his hand beneath the fabric and began rubbing circles on your clit. You tipped forward and and buried your face against his hair, trying and failing to hold back a gasp. He laughed, then groaned as you pulled on his hair again.

“You like when I do that, don’t you?” you asked, smiling against his face.

“Shut up,” he huffed, moving his thumb faster against you. You moaned and tightened your arms around his neck.

“Are you close?” you asked.

“Mhmm.”

“Good.” You were breathless and riding the wire yourself, feeling like you could tip over any second.

“Fuck,” he grunted. “You’re gorgeous.”

The words sent a shock through you and you moaned against your will. You wanted to return the compliment, but you couldn’t find the words. Instead, you desperately pressed your mouth to his and sighed into his mouth.

His arm latched around your waist. It allowed your hips to shift less but made him hit you even deeper. Your breath rushed from your mouth into his and he drank it in.

Your lips hovered just above his as you swore, grip on his neck tightening so much you were sure it was almost painful as your body shook. You went over recklessly and almost embarrassingly hard, but it seemed to drive him crazy. He held you steady in his lap as he followed after you, eyes squeezing shut as harsh sounds fell from his lips.

You fell limp against each other, chests heaving in a shared rhythm. Slowly, your pants became laughs as you realized the position you were in. He joined in until you were both in a fit, voices breathless and giddy and muffled against each other’s skin.

“That was better than I thought it was gonna be,” you said. He weakly smacked your leg and squeezed you in a firm hug.

“You’re so mean.”

You ran a hand through his hair, hoping he wouldn’t see the genuine smile on your face.

You checked the time again and noticed his face had turned up

“Why do you keep checking the time?”

“Nothing. My roommate just —”

There was the sound of a lock in the door and in swung open.

“Oh my god!” You scrambled out of his lap as your roommate stepped into the entryway. “I’m so sorry.”

You tried to explain through small bursts of laughter as Oikawa rearranged his pants and gathered his things. He tucked into his shoes and approached the door.

“Tooru. It’s nice to meet you.” He grinned, looking somehow even more handsome with his ruffled hair and rumpled, unbuttoned shirt.

She stared at him like he was out of his mind. His smile didn’t falter.

“Well.” He turned to you and did a single finger gun motion. “I’ll be seeing you. You have my number.”

The door swung shut and you buried your face in your hands.

Shit.

[theregoesmylurkerstatus]

So... I have a lot of thoughts on the finale. I've deliberately kept my mouth shut, more or less, on the campaign overall because I'm a firm believer that you can't pass judgement -- at least not complete judgement -- on stories until they're over and done with.

Well, it's done! Kind of crazy. I've been watching Critical Role with almost insane consistency, viewing almost every single episode live, with maybe five-ish exceptions, since episode 19, and I've been blogging it for, what, two and a half years?

It's a weird feeling. It's been such a constant thing for me that I'm always gonna have love for it and remember with a lot of fondness.

...Which is in spite of the fact that I can now comfortably say I'm pretty eh on the ending. I know not being positive about something most of us have loved a lot for a very long time can sting a bit, but I personally think it also stings when people relentlessly crow over how good they think it is or want it to be, to the point where you feel you can't voice your absolutely valid upsets or dissatisfactions. So, here goes, if anyone's interested! I'd be curious to see other opinions, too!

I actually drafted a post talking about my overall frustrations with the campaign a whole two weeks ago, and then scrapped most of it when 140 blew me out of the water. I was really touched, and really happy. I hadn't expected it, but it shockingly felt right, you know?

Unfortunately 141 robbed me of most of that satisfaction and brought me right back to neutral.

The blanket statement you have to make, of course, is that you can’t criticise this as a DnD game, and you can’t be mad at the cast for playing it in a way they think is best for them. They’re the players, Matt’s the DM, and in the end it makes no sense for them to try to make themselves act how they think the audience wants them to, and I’m sure most of the audience wouldn’t like the result anyway.

That said, there is an audience. And that’s where I see this clash coming in. As a DnD game, as long as the players and DM have all enjoyed it and been satisfied, it’s a successful game! But for us, it’s not a DnD game. For us, we’re watching a story be written in real time through the medium of an RPG. And while as a DnD game you can’t fault it, as a piece of media, I completely get why the way things have gone has sat weirdly for a lot of people.

It's not satisfying to see so many character hooks dealt with so quickly or left as an offscreen "and then you do it." If they don't want to keep playing to dive into it, absolutely, but for us who have been watching this as a story with all these character elements get so built up, it's a huge anti-climax.

Which is a lot of what this campaign has been, really.

Oh, Nott’s cursed! But through a really cool character moment that problem is completely taken care of with no consequences we see. Yay, I want her to be Veth and that was an iconic move from Jester! Still, it kind of feels like this was built up to be a big problem and at the first success it was let go... Caleb's got a really intense frightening past he tries to hide, I wonder how the Mighty Nein will respond? Oh, they found out, but it's not a difficult revelation for anyone. Looks like it's easy for them to move past it and forgive. Yeah, that's healthiest for the characters, but huh, kinda undercuts it as a storyline or point of interest. Oooh, Avantika’s back! Ah, they’ve killed her and grabbed the eye again. I mean I don’t want them to die or for Uk’otoa to be free, but I’m starting to feel like that’s not much of a threat anyway. The Traveler’s been kidnapped! Nah he hasn’t, he tried to save Jester so he was let go with no further issue, and also he wasn’t actually in any danger anyway. Oh... Cool. So... Why should I care or be worried?

And these are just the biggest ones I remember being kind of let down by. I wanted to see them STRUGGLE for the successes to have meaning. To my view, threats of failure -- real failure -- really decreased the more the campaign went on, with a few exceptions.

Because don't get me wrong, we've definitely had struggles, and those have made for some of the best moments! Molly’s death, Yasha’s kidnapping, Yeza’s imprisonment. When failures that were threatened are allowed to occur, it’s far more gratifying when it’s followed by success, because you understand that that success was actually necessary. It shows us that what they do really means something.

Honestly, that's why the final battle really shut me up, because nothing makes you quite feel stakes and failure like having two PCs die, and having a resurrection ritual fail -- AND knowing that failure would be delivered on, had it not been for a seemingly miraculous roll of the dice to turn it around. One of the greatest failure's -- Molly's death -- made the success of his resurrection put a lot of my other issues to rest immediately, because to be honest? Molly's resurrection was the biggest success of the campaign, exactly because it was originally the biggest failure.

But this episode, we got to see the other side of making threats and successes feel disappointing -- when you get the impression that success was robbed from you. Again, their characters, their choices, but to have them roll an intervention to get Molly's soul, to convince Molly to come back with his own possessions they've so loved, after so long and so many struggles... only to apparently not get Molly at all?

Changed, of course. Memories, maybe he'd never get them back, though that seems inconsistent to how the initial resurrection was played and Matt's hints. It even makes sense that not having his memories and being a bit different, he might forge a new identity, but insisting Molly was a different person entirely after such a supposed hard won success to get Molly back, especially after what his death meant to the audience and potentially healing that old wound? It robs the narrative of a LOT of catharsis, at least for me and I know many others.

Trent, too, I'm very up and down on. He was so built up -- and what fun that build up had -- and I very much disagreed with the idea that the best story would be dealing with him offscreen.

It's true that you don’t need to explicitly address, confront, or explore every big aspect of character's story hooks and background ties for PCs to move past them and grow healthily. But that does not make it a satisfying viewing experience. People quietly healing in real life is healthy. People quietly healing in an explosive fantasy setting is frustrating for the audience.

What on earth is the point of a story if you don’t get to SEE THE ESTABLISHED CONFLICTS go anywhere? A lot of the characters got distant, quiet resolutions, if that, to everything we wanted to see.

Except, we did get to see Trent. It was a really fun, inventive battle, from opening to conclusion, but much like Travelercon, much like Nott's/Veth's problem with the hag, these were things that the audience in general wanted to see be really dug into and explored, and every single one of them got, in my opinion, quickly tidied up instead. Trent got beaten in the first and only proper battle they had with him, which, after all his build up, is pretty disappointing for a villain many of us wanted to see be a big deal. It really just felt like they were trying to tidy up to get on with the epilogue, which is not what a lot of us were looking for with Trent especially.

And that's how most of their endings felt to me. It didn't feel like any of them had reached a comfortable conclusion. Literally all of them, bar Veth and Caduceus, continued on their character journey threads, without each other and very quickly. Meeting Yasha's tribe and Vandran, Caleb finally openly debating changing time for his parents, Trent and Zeenoth's trials and the changing of the guard at the Assembly... All were things it would have been so fun to have all the PCs react to and explore together, and instead they were fleeting encounters in the latter half of a seven hour finale.

Is all this, from Molly not really coming back to Trent being a finale side plot to the Nein continuing on their individual journeys, potentially realistic to how these fantastical things might go down in real life? Sure! But that's not necessarily a good thing.

Stories THRIVE on conflict and resolution. That’s what makes them FUN! Conflict isn’t nearly so fun in real life and resolutions are often frustrating question marks, so no, past a certain point I don’t WANT stories to be realistic. I want stories to be SATISFYING.

And campaign 2 has fallen far short of the mark.

I haven’t spoken... Basically a word of this for most of the campaign, because as I said I’m a firm believer that you can’t necessarily judge something until it’s over, and because I ALSO firmly believe that being negative WHILE trying to enjoy something is counterproductive. I have had no interest in spoiling or naysaying the fun of the campaign for anyone, least of all myself.

But it's done now, and all I can say is... I really have had fun. I love the characters. I love their relationships. I’m pretty okay with where they’ve ended up. I’m not mad, really, and I’m still going to think of this campaign with a lot of affection. But it hasn’t been a satisfying story, even though for a week following episode 140 I thought, despite all the brushed over story threads, it might be.

So... to try and reclaim some of that satisfaction for myself, I might ignore some aspects of the finale proper. Namely Kingsley specifically. Taliesin's choice -- but to me, it's pretty clear that who we saw at the end of 140 was Molly, and the tags on my posts will reflect that, just as my 141 tags will be for both Kingsley and Molly, for clarity's sake. I personally want to believe Molly did come back, however others might want to interpret it. The victory in 140 that meant so much to me is hollow otherwise, and it just kind of hurts that we would lose Molly after everything. I was okay with him being dead -- I'm not so okay with his resurrection being stolen.

Kingsley will always be canon, but Molly is what I choose to acknowledge. I get if you don't like that take, and that's okay! I didn't care for canon's in the end. That's the good thing about storytelling, is that no one can stop you from making your own versions.

For the people who are hopefully hyped for campaign 3, heck yeah have fun! I’m on the fence. My investment, which... I think I can objectively say was pretty substantive as this blog will attest, doesn't feel rewarded, so I’m not convinced I can faithfully keep up for over three years all over again with a strong possibility that I will once again be left disappointed. It's been a huge chunk of my life, and... yeah!

I’ll take a break, probably, view (and liveblog, if people want!) campaign 1 when I’ve had a mental stretch and vacation, and then... I might start campaign 3. I definitely won’t be able to put the same time in it I did campaign 2 (my first love no matter what), knowing that it’s likely to not be so vindicated, in the end.

I swear I’m actually writing this in fairly good humour, but I totally get its always disappointing when the people you come to for fandom enjoyment just aren't sharing your fun. Honestly I’m half tempted to write all those frigging AUs I have sitting around! But I wanted to say my piece, and try and logically outline why this ending has been lacklustre for so many people, ultimately myself included.

Episode 140 felt right because it felt like a natural conclusion -- these disparate people coming together and finally being whole, finally soothing the hurt that MADE them so long ago. Episode 141 spat on that sentiment -- they all scattered to the winds, not as happy people to live out their dreams, but as confused people chasing up loose threads towards an unknown future, with the friend they thought returned still lost to them, ultimately.

It doesn't feel like the ending we should have gotten for the Mighty Nine, who were finally, finally all together. Until they weren't. So to me? I choose to acknowledge that they were, even if I have to force it to happen post-epilogue in my head.

[nerajaana]

I’m sorry I think I just read that.....Robert Baratheon would’ve been a better man......had he been with a right sort of woman. Someone better than Lyanna Stark.

Apologies and pls ignore the following if I’d hallucinated that but if I didn’t....and legit read that with my own two eyes...oh gods i didn’t pay for LASIK to read such nasty ass takes.

No, seriously.

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU MORONS ARE YOU FOR REAL NOW????? YOU’VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!! COULD YOU BE MORE OF AN INTERNALIZED MISOGYNIST???

I’m so very angry rn .

Listen, you don’t get to say this sort of thing and turn around to say that you hate rhaegar and I’m speaking as a rhaegar targaryen anti. I don’t like the guy based on whatever little that has been said in the books so far. I don’t care much for r x l either, but guess what? YOU DON’T GET TO SIT THERE LIKE SOME RIGHTEOUS MORALLY SUPERIOR LIL SHIT AND HATE ON HER! The responsibility lies solely upon him, Lya wasn’t the married one in that equation. She at 14 had the wisdom to look beyond a man’s looks and position and the ability to judge his character. No other female of her generation could boast the same. She was betrothed to someone who was labeled as “built like a maiden’s fantasy”and had the ability to discern what sort of a man he must be beyond the appearances. Every other girl would’ve probably been all “oh I’ll be able to fix him, oh i make him love me/if I love him enough he won’t stray”. Like pls, need I remind y’all of how Catelyn felt about the handsome Brandon (a ladies man himself, although not to the extent of bobbyB), or how Cersei felt about Robert? Shall we blame Elia for Rhaegar’s actions now? The double standards are popping out, try to at least make an attempt at covering them up, no one’s gonna take y’all seriously irl if you keep this up.

NO ONE WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR RHAEGAR’S ACTIONS AND NO WOMAN IN THE DAMNED PLANETOS WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR ROBERT’S EXCEPT THEMSELVES. They’re fully grown human beings capable of using their brains, no woman has to take up the dumbass responsibility of minding them. They ain’t some ickle wittle babies that need to be constantly minded for fucks sakes what on earth is the matter with your thinking abilities??

MY 7 YEAR OLD NEPHEW HAS BETTER JUDGEMENT THAN MOST OF YOU LOT, SHAME ON YOUR PARTS.

Idiots.

When will you realize you’re all outing yourselves by reaching like you do in your idiot attempts to defend a character? They’re literary devices, not real people. But your judgements and character takes speak volumes about your thought processes and boy are they so not quite up to your woke standards.

And here I thought dismissing trauma of the child soldiers and the abysmal woke performative-ness with regards to the pocs and, oh those poor poor slavers, was the lowest this fandom could reach.

Now we’re reverting back to the age old “men can be fixed up nicely with just the right sort of woman” diatribe like EXCUSE ME HAVE SOME RESPECT FOR ALL THOSE WOMEN WHO FOUGHT (and are continuing to fight) AGAINST SUCH ABYSMAL BELIEFS HAVE YOU NO COMMON SENSE?!

[fific7]

Evil Twins - Part 3

Billy Russo & Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: When two worlds which have already collided then collide with yours - that’s an explosive situation.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with quite a lot of lemon zest 🍋 My Fantasy Punisher/Shadow and Bone crossover AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Slightly questionable consent to begin with. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

Your head bumped slightly against the corner of the kitchen cupboard and this brought you back to reality. What did you think you were doing? You pushed Billy away roughly and stepped quickly away from him. He looked bereft but you ignored that, saying, “Okay, Billy - enough. I don’t know what I was thinking!” You picked up some of the crockery and went to the dishwasher.

Billy lounged back against the sink, arms crossed, long legs spread, contemplating you.

“That you were enjoying it?”

You huffed, “So what if I was? But it really wasn’t a good idea.” He smirked, “You don’t really believe that.” He pushed himself off the sink unit and headed back to the living room, saying over his shoulder, “To be continued, sweetheart.”

You clattered the dishes around, loading the dishwasher and mentally beating yourself up for giving in to your baser instincts, when you heard Aleksander’s voice in the other room.

“What are you looking so pleased about?” You heard Billy make a relaxed stretching noise like a cat, and you could visualise him doing just that.

“Oh I dunno. What could I possibly be looking pleased about, huh?” “You…!” shouted Aleksander, and then you heard scuffling noises so you rushed through there. As you’d feared, Billy and Aleksander were rolling around on the floor, grunting and trying to punch each other’s lights out.

“Stop it!” you yelled at the top of your voice, but they ignored you. So you waded in, trying to separate them without success. Eventually you took to landing punches on them yourself. Both of them stopped wrestling and looked at you in surprise, and you took this opportunity to yell at them, “Get up! Stop this right now and get up!”

You all unentangled yourselves, standing up and rearranging clothes. They sat down on a sofa each, while you stood there glaring at them like a headmistress, arms crossed. “What is it with you two?! You’re like a couple of stags butting heads! And I’m not talking about your stupid amplifier!” you yelled at them and glaring at Aleksander. The two of them mumbled under their breaths and you said loudly, “What? What was that? It better have been ‘we’re sorry we make you act like our mum’ or something like that!”

They both laughed, exchanging glances, and you snapped, “This is no laughing matter! I’m sick of it. It’s like having two children around the place.” Billy composed his face into a serious expression, saying, “Sorry, sweetheart. But you must know that a mother’s the last thing we think of you as.” Aleksander nodded, “For once I agree with that idiot.” He looked intently at you, “We both want you, so that’s never going to end well.”

You felt your face pink up, “I’m not some snack to be fought over!” “Course you’re not, sweetheart,” soothed Billy, “but this idiot thought I’d slept with you so he lost his cool.” “Did not!” roared Aleksander, then his head swung to you, “You didn’t, did you?” “No I did NOT!” you insisted. “But she did kiss me,” smirked Billy. Outraged, you screeched, “You kissed me, if you recall!” Billy just kept on smirking and Aleksander launched himself across the coffee table, grabbing Billy by the throat and hissing, “Just as well for you I can’t use the Cut right now!”

“Oh for god’s sake,” you said, “just stop it, will you?” Aleksander stood up, huffing and smoothing down his t-shirt, sitting down on the other sofa again. “What’s the Cut?” queried Billy. “You don’t wanna know,” you said, “now I’m going to put the TV on for you children because I need to do some housework.” You heard a chuckle from Billy, “Yeah! You could put on a maid’s outfit if ya like?” You flipped him the middle finger, switched on the TV and went back into the kitchen.

You could hear a rumble of voices from the other room, and just hoped that war was not about to break out again. What the hell were you going to do about this situation? You had the feeling it was building to boiling point.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

When you emerged a little later having seen to your domestic tasks, you found the two of them sitting on the floor with your old Monopoly set open in front of them. Aleksander was poring over the instructions and they both turned towards you, “How d’ya play this?” asked Billy. You stared at him, “Now him I could understand but you? You’ve never played Monopoly?” His face fell and he shrugged, “No, they didn’t have it in the orphanage.” Immediately you felt terrible and you’d already said, “Oh I’m sorry, Billy,” before your brain caught up with your mouth and you added sarcastically, “I should’ve known you wouldn’t have had it in your fictional orphanage in your fictional childhood.”

His big dark eyes gazed up at you, “Might be fictional to you, sweetheart but it wasn’t to me.” Now you felt bad again, holding up your hands, “Okay, okay - I really am sorry, alright?” He nodded, looking back down and fidgeting with the little dog and top hat tokens. You joined them on the floor, “You two really want to play?” They solemnly nodded, so you whipped the instructions out of Aleksander’s hands, “Okay, I’ll explain it to you.”

Twenty minutes later, Aleksander huffed as he got sent to Jail again, reached over and grabbed a load of Billy’s houses and hotels and dumped them on his own squares. “That’s you all over, isn’t it?” sneered Billy, “you’re a loser but you can’t stand it so you just grab what you want, brother!” “Oh and you don’t, hmm brother?!” snarked Aleksander.

“Billy, Aleksander!” you yelled, then in your wisdom decided to add, “in fact I’m going to call you ‘Aleks’ as your full name’s too much of a mouthful for when I’m yelling at you!” Aleks grinned at you, “Or when you’ll be screaming it in bed.” Billy eye-rolled, “Like that’s ever goin’ to happen!” “Just watch!” “I don’t go in for watchin’!” “Well, that’s all you’re going to get a chance to do, little brother!” “Little brother!?? You were definitely second - after me!!”

By now, both of them had jumped to their feet and - surprise, surprise - were nose to nose.

You cradled your head in your hands. This was purgatory.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

She’d retreated back onto the kitchen to make another pot of tea, and peace had temporarily broken out between the two warring parties.

A discussion had begun, with Billy starting it off. “She’s gettin’ really pissed off with us.” Aleks nodded, “Yes, I know.” “So what’re we gonna do? She can’t exactly throw us out I know, but I’d like it better if she was lookin’ at us with somethin’ other than disgust.” Aleks nodded, then - quickly looking round to check she was still out of earshot, “Ah… I suppose we could share?” Billy’s head shot up, eyes staring into his twin’s, “Ya what?” “Share. We could share her. Separately… or together.”

Billy’s mouth dropped into an ‘O’. “Share,” he repeated, then again, “share? D’you think she’d go for that?” Aleks nodded. “She likes us, I can tell. We both like her, and that could be a problem - well it has been, hasn’t it? - but if we play it right, I’m pretty sure we can charm her into bed with both of us.”

Billy and Aleks sat looking at each other, satisfied little smiles on their faces.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Unaware that you were now the object of a peace treaty between the twins, you experienced some deja vu when carrying the tea tray into the living room. Both of them were sitting on the one sofa again, gazing up at you with unreadable expressions in their eyes.

You had the nastiest feeling that you’d missed something important while you’d been in the kitchen making tea. What had the two of them been cooking up between themselves? You plonked the tray down on the coffee table and looked at them suspiciously.

“What’re you two up to?” They shook their heads, innocence radiating off them, “ Nothing!” they chorused. Billy continued, “We just decided that we better stop pissin’ you off so much.”

You beamed at them, “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day!” You missed the significant looks exchanged between the two men as you placed the cups of tea in front of them.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed relatively peacefully, with only a few minor skirmishes between the two of them about whatever film or programme you’d put on to watch. And much to your surprise, you realised that they’d actually stopped arguing themselves without you having to step in. Well, that was an improvement at any rate.

For the evening meal you’d rustled up a ragu sauce, and as you didn’t have any spaghetti left you had to use farfalla. So sue me, you thought. Along with some garlic bread you’d heated in the oven, you dished up three portions and then pulled down your space-saving kitchen table, which folded up into the corner of the room when not in use. You got three chairs out of your walk-in cupboard and set them up round the table. “Dinner!” you yelled, and two tall figures came piling into the kitchen. “Mmmm smells great, sweetheart,” schmoozed Billy, sitting down and looking over to where the plates were on the counter. “It does, moi krasivyy,” said Aleks, not to be outdone.

You brought out three bottles of beer from the fridge. You’d almost got over the way food and drinks just replenished themselves as soon as you used or consumed something. Setting them down on the table, you popped the tops off them with the bottle opener and slid one in front of each of them. You noticed they were both looking at you with what could only be described as ‘heart-eyes’, and you squirmed uncomfortably under their gaze. “What’re you both staring at?” you demanded. “Perfection,” said Aleks. “Gorgeousness,” smirked Billy.

After the food had been eaten and beer bottles drained, amidst more effusive compliments about the meal the twins jumped up from the table and said that you needed to go and relax while they washed up the plates. “Thanks for offering, guys, but that’s why I’ve got a dishwasher.” “Well, we’ll load the dishwasher then,” insisted Billy. He took your arm and led you into the living room, “Sit down sweetheart, and just chill while we do the work now.” He gazed at you, and you saw that look in his eyes again - as if you were some kind of earth-bound angel or something.

Right! you thought, just what are these two up to???

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You sighed, leaning over and switching off your bedside lamp. The book you’d been reading wasn’t turning out to be quite what you’d expected. You’d hoped for a bit more… well, raunchier content, not to put too fine a point on it. In that respect, a nun could’ve read it and wouldn’t have blushed.

You’d wondered if you should read a fanfic or two instead - Billy Russo or The Darkling ha ha ha - but then you’d remembered that your wifi and mobile data weren’t working due to this ridiculous situation you found yourself in, so obviously whatever force controlled this… this portal?…didn’t want you contacting the outside world.

You’d fallen asleep quite quickly, laughing to yourself as you did that children were extremely tiring.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The dreams began shortly afterwards, and they were much more vivid than usual.

Your quilt was folded slowly back off you - the rush of cold air was distinctly noticeable - and your top and sleep shorts were peeled off you. You heard deep sighs but you didn’t know who’d made them. Then you were gently rolled onto your back, and you were aware of your mattress dipping down on both sides.

You felt warm skin against your whole body - it almost felt like you were surrounded - and it felt so good that you smiled.

“See! She’s smiling, I told you she’d be fine with it.”

In your dream your brow wrinkled, she’d be fine with what? And who said that?

You felt a tongue lick one of your nipples and a hand squeezed your other breast and then switched - the other nipple was licked, the other breast was squeezed.

You sat bolt upright in bed, and that’s when you realised that you were in fact wide awake.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

In the dim light coming through your gauzy curtains, you could make out two pairs of dark chocolate eyes staring into yours.

“Darling,” said Aleks.

“Sweetheart,” said Billy.

“You fuckers!” you screeched, looking down at your nude body and trying to cover up the relevant bits with your hands and by crossing your legs.

“Too late,” said Billy, giving you a small smile and nodding at your hands which you were still moving around to try and give you maximum coverage.

“We’ve had our hands and mouths on you already,” agreed Aleks.

“Yes and without my permission!” you snapped.

Billy reached across and put on the light. You jumped, feeling like you were under a spotlight, moving your hands about even more frantically. Then Billy’s hands were pulling yours down and away from your breasts.

“Hey!” you yelled at him, and tried to pull your hands out of his but he wouldn’t let go and he was too strong for you.

Now Aleks did his bit, pulling your raised and crossed legs down onto the bed, parting your thighs in your sitting position against your pillows, and then held your legs tightly in position on the bed.

Both men totally consumed you with their eyes, and you were powerless to stop them.

“Oh, darling… you are so, so beautiful,” breathed Aleks.

Billy whispered, “You’re stunning, sweetheart. Absolutely stunning.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“I can’t believe you two!” you were yelling at them, ignoring their compliments and lustful gazes, “Let me go!”

“But you know how much we want you, darling,” Aleks said persuasively.

“Just let us get it out of our systems and things will quieten down,” pleaded Billy, “well, a little bit anyhow.”

“I cannot believe you sneaked into my room!” you hissed, trying to get free from their restraining hands. “Let go of me. Now!!!”

But instead they slid you down the bed until you were flat on your back and then both heads dipped down to your neck, their mouths were on your skin, beginning to kiss and lick and suck.

“Get off me!” you snarled, still trying to get free but you were too firmly held between them - as if you were in a vice. “But we can make you feel so good, darling,” whispered Aleks next to your ear, Billy purring “Soooo very good, sweetheart,” next to the other one.

Then their attention moved slightly southwards. Billy changed his grip on your hands, grasping both your wrists in one big hand instead and pulling your arms up above your head, pinning them down onto your pillows. Aleks moved one of his legs across yours to keep you pinned, and then you saw their hands stealing onto your breasts, squeezing and kneading them before their mouths came into play. Their hands remained on your breasts but each nipple now had one of their mouths fastened onto it, and they began licking, kissing, sucking and biting until you squealed, squirming under them.

Desperately fighting to ignore how good their attentions were beginning to make you feel, you burst out, “Stop it!” but neither of them did. In fact they both stepped up their attentions, biting and licking your nipples and the skin surrounding them until you could hear yourself beginning to gasp uncontrollably.

You caught a look and a nod being exchanged between them, and both of them sat up on their knees. Billy was still holding your wrists and Aleks used one of his knees to keep your leg pinned. Unable to avoid looking at the two lean bodies in front of you, you saw two rampant cocks lying up almost against their stomachs and much to your disgust, you felt a tumultuous wave of arousal wash over you.

They are two very well-endowed boys, your traitorous mind said into your ear. And exactly the same size! - truly twins, it giggled at you. Oh shut up, you silently answered it and get me out of this situation! Of course now it did shut up.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“Sweetheart,” said Billy, cupping your cheek and suddenly kissing you, tongue thrusting into your mouth, breaking away for a second to say, “We’re gonna take real good care of you now.” He went back to kissing you, and you heard a whine from Aleks, “I want to kiss her!” Billy sighed into your mouth and lifted his lips from yours. “Okay, bro,” he said, “all yours. For now.”

Aleks crashed his lips onto yours, his teeth clashing with yours until he calmed down a bit and wasn’t quite so desperate. His tongue slid into your mouth, not quite as assertively as Billy’s but still pretty forceful. You could hear him making little “Mmmm” sounds as he kissed you then he sat back, stroking your lips. “Taste so sweet,” he smiled down at you, “your lips are so soft.”

Aleks sat up on his knees again and as he did so, you felt Billy’s body lay down fully on top of you and he rested his hard cock just for a moment between your legs. His hands took hold of your hips and angled you upwards ever so slightly, then you felt just the head of his cock rubbing against your core. Wetness began to gather and you tutted, trying to squirm away from the insistent teasing, but Billy just chuckled and moved his cock along with you when you managed to move slightly, still rubbing at you.

Aleks’ thumb went to your bottom lip and he gently pulled it down further, opening your mouth to him. He leant over and licked both your lips, sucking on them gently then pushing his tongue inside your mouth. Now he was hovering over you, his erection brushing your lips, the tip starting to edge inside.

Okay, okay, okay, your slightly panicking brain chanted. This was happening. Really going to happen. They were both going to take you right now.

You weren’t 100% sure how you felt about it.

Angry that they were just going to have you whatever you said about it. Excited because they were both very hot, very sexy guys.

But whatever your feelings on the matter, it was inevitable - that much was obvious.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“I promise I’ll make you feel like you’re in heaven, darling,” you heard Aleks say and then Billy chipping in with, “An’ I promise I’ll make you scream my name, sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes, waiting.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@aleksanderwh0r3 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @s1xthirty @tartiflvtte @slythvoid @edithsvoice @paracosmenthusiast @mizelophsun11 @eroda-harry @theshadowkingsqueen @kestrafagnor @thelightinmyshadows

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[nakamoto-aesthetics]

[ 11:37 pm ] ❝anyways, good night. i’m gonna go indulge in my unrealistic romantic fantasies until i fall asleep.❞

“are any of us included in them?” haechan cocks an eyebrow.

“that’s confidential” you cock your eyebrow right back at him. he clicks his tongue and looks away.

“so that’s a yes” doyoung concludes and you snap your neck over to him.

“not at all”

“you can lie to us all you want y/n, we’re gonna figure it out” taeil smirks.

“but you’re not though” you smile.

“I know who it is” yuta says, instantly grabbing everybody’s attention.

“who is it?” haechans eyes widen.

you widen your eyes. yuta was the only one you‘ve told your fantasies to and who they were about. there was no way you were gonna let him expose you.

“no, no, no!” you sprint and jump on him. you landed on his lap and covered his mouth with your hands. he throws his head back laughing loudly, his laughs being muffled by your hands.

“no, say it yuta” doyoung says. “I have to hear this”

“no” you shake your head. “you better not mr. nakamoto or I will bury you alive I promise” you threaten him once his laughter comes down.

“don’t worry, I won’t, I just want to have a bit of fun with the boys” he whispers in your ear. his hand slides down to your hip mindlessly but you didn’t care to move it, nor did you care to move from your place on his lap. you shifted your legs a little so you were straddling now him.

“it begins with a j” yuta smirks at the guys and this causes an uproar between them. you didn’t care though because you knew his name didn’t start with a j.

“wait, wait, there are three j’s so which one is it?” the guys look at yuta and he shrugs.

“figure it out” and the guys do just that, evaluating everything.

“thank you” you whisper and lay your head on yutas shoulder. he hums and rubs your back watching the chaos.

“I think i’m just gonna tell them so then maybe my fantasies will become a reality”

“you sure?” he asks surprised by your words. you nod and release a sharp breath.

“we think we know who it is,” doyoung says, grabbing both you and yutas attention.

“well?” yuta asks them.

“it’s jaehyun”

you instantly burst out into laughter, sitting up and throwing your head back. they all awkwardly chuckle, with furrowed eyebrows. you fall off of yutas lap before he could catch you and now your on the floor, rolling around in laughter. they all watched you with a visibly confused look on their face. you feel a few tears slip down your cheeks out of laughter. that’s how hard you were laughing.

“what’s going on?” a voice sounds through the living room and someone walks into the living room. his eyes are initially met with the boys sitting on the couch until his feet take him further and he sees you on the ground rolling with laughter. his hands drop at his sides loosely and he smiles and laughs at you.

this caught your attention and you opened your eyes seeing a pair of legs standing a little bit away from you. your body was still shaking with laughter and that’s when you look up and see the face of the guy who played the main character in your fantasies.

“taeyong” you breathily say and your laughter stops.

“hey” he smiles. “don’t stop because i’m here, I actually wanna join in. what’s so funny?” taeyong walks over to an empty seat on the couch.

“u-uh…” you look at yuta with fear in your eyes and he senses this.

“nothing, y/n just started laughing out of nowhere” yuta speaks up trying to cover for you.

“well if it’s not jaehyun then who would it be?” haechan blurts out of nowhere. he desperately had to know who it was.

“what do you mean not jaehyun?” taeyong asks looking at haechan.

“nothi-”

“we’re trying to guess who y/n’s fantasies are about, would you perhaps know anything about that?” haechan directs the question to taeyong.

taeyong looks at you with soft knitted eyebrows, with hurt filling his eyes for a second before going away in the blink of an eye. “no I wouldn’t” taeyong says in a slight cold tone to haechan. you stared at taeyong trying to decipher whether or whether not that was a hurt look or something else. you looked up at yuta and furrow your eyebrows. his eyes shift to yours and he tilts his head in question.

you were gonna mouth it to him but instead, you get up and position yourself on yuta as you were before; and he lays his hand on your hips like it was before.

“I don’t know if i’m crazy but when taeyong looked at me he had some kind of hurt look in his eyes. do you think that means something?” you whispered in his ear and your head was laid on his shoulder.

“yes” he bluntly says.

“how can you be so sure?”

“well, your boyfriend is staring at us right now with the same look your describing” yutas glances at taeyong and then looks away trying not to make it too obvious that he was talking about him.

“you think he likes me?” you start to get a little giddy inside.

“from the looks of it, yes” with that, your lips instantly curve up into a smile. your stomach blooms with butterflies and your heart starts to beat faster, rushing with adrenaline.

“wait let me try something, don’t get scared” yuta whispers to your ear. his hand glide over your hips and down to your ass, squeezing it. taeyong catches movement in the corner of his eyes and he looks over at you and yuta. immediately, he’s clenching his jaw and looking away faster than you can say his whole name.

“what are you doing?” you whisper and inhale a sharp breath.

“making taeyong jealous and I think it’s working. yeah, he likes you” yuta takes his hand off and places them on your back.

“was that really to make him jealous or was it just an excuse to touch my ass?” you look up at him from his shoulder.

“mm… both but mostly to make taeyong jealous” yuta looks down at you, catching your eyes for a split second before looking at the others. you ignore it and shake your head.

“so who is it y/n? who is the fantasy guy?” doyoung asks and everyone gets quiet, looking at you and yuta.

“watch it be yuta,” taeil says.

“it is not yuta” you shoot up and say defensively.

“what’s wrong with it being yuta?” yuta says, teasing you.

“nothing… it’s just not you” you look at him and cock an eyebrow.

“sure it isn’t” taeyong whispers in a cold tone, raising his eyebrows and looking down. he expected nobody to hear this but of course you and yuta did.

“see” yuta mouths at you and you nod slightly. yuta then gestures you to say something and you decide to do just that. you turn you head to the rest of the guys, glancing at taeyong from time to time.

you inhale a deep breath.

“taeyong” you softly say with hurt behind your voice. his head comes up from his lap and looks back at you with cold eyes.

“taeyong, it’s… taeyong” your heart beats rapidly as your eyes look over at him, watching as his eyes promptly soften at your words.

the boys cause an uproar once again but you don’t care about that, you were way too focused on the guy in front of you. his lips were parted in surprise and his eyes were lit up with happiness. he didn’t care anymore that yuta touched you, he was only focused on the fact that you fantasized about him.

“well now that we know who it is are you gonna go to your man or stay on yuta?” taeil smirks. you don’t say anything and continue to stare at taeyong. you guys were holding strong eye contact that was unbreakable and so intoxicating.

“oh for gods sake” yuta clicks his tongue. he gets up, holding you tight against him as he walks over to taeyong and drops you right in taeyongs lap. you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and look down.

“hey” taeyong lifts your chin with his index finger so then your looking into his eyes.

“hi” you breathily whisper. wow was he breathtaking up close. you’ve only watched him from distances so seeing him up close was different for you. every feature on his face was perfect and he thought the same about you.

“so you fantasize about me” he cheekily smiles, teasing you. your cheeks heat up so much that you have to cover them with your hands.

“um… yes” you wanted despite to look down but his finger under your chin was the only thing stopping you from doing that.

“how often?” he asks you abruptly, catching you off guard.

“…a great amount of times a day but every day, really” you nod your head trying to recall today and the days before that.

“hm… do you wanna go somewhere private to talk?” taeyong asks with soft eyes, catching you off guard once again.

“to talk or to fuck?” the words roll off your tongue before you could stop them.

“to talk” he smiles. “and maybe do a little bit of kissing but we don’t have to go there yet… unless you want to” he pulls his lip between his teeth, slightly tugging on it and you definitely did not miss that.

“how about we talk first and then we’ll see what happens” you look up from his lips and to his eyes.

“okay,” he grins as he picks you up and walks to his room.

silence.

“all that for that?” haechan blinks multiple times. “that was 40 minutes of my life i’ll never get back” he scoffs as he rolls his eyes, getting up and walking away. the guys all look at each other and shrug going off to do their own thing.

a/n: this was so random but i hope you all liked it nonetheless :)

NCT Masterlist

[apricops]

writing prompt: the political climate of [your choice of historical period] expressed in the form of office drama

[Interior - an anachronistic office building, equal parts The Name of The Rose and Parks and Rec. Holy Roman Emperor MAXIMILIAN I is in the background, listening to a PETITIONER. Court musicians nearby are playing something soothing as MAXIMILIAN I visibly tries not to lose his shit.

In the foreground, several people are seated around a table. The table is piled high with semi-organized stacks of papers, labeled “Habsburgs,” “Denmark,” and “???” There is a tired-looking COURT LAWYER who is skimming through a document, seated across from a Fancy-Lad DUCAL ENVOY and an old, gray-bearded, Prussian-looking MARGRAVE, who is half-asleep. The COURT LAWYER skims over a few pages in tense, frustrated silence before finally speaking.]

COURT LAWYER: So King Christian I is his own vassal?

[Cut to the COURT LAWYER doing that talking-to-the-camera-like-The-Office thing, because I have never written a TV script before and am fuzzy on the terminology.]

COURT LAWYER: The Holstien case… is hell. The cadet branches just pop up like… like pimples! One minute it’s Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Beck, then it’s Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg, then—

[Snap cut back to the table, making it clear the COURT LAWYER could have gone on for hours. The DUCAL ENVOY gestures to a document and starts to explain.]

DUCAL ENVOY: That, ah, that’s from a different case. You see, our illustrious house was rewarded for our service against the Ottomans during the Siege of Thessalonica.

[The MARGRAVE snaps awake.]

MARGRAVE: The Ottomans? Where? Drive back the Turk! Get me the garrison commander! Murm, and a stuffed pastry or two…

[Everyone ignores the MARGRAVE, who falls back asleep after a few more rambles.]

COURT LAWYER: Wasn’t the Siege of Thessalonica a total failure and humiliating defeat on our end?

[The DUCAL ENVOY makes a “yeah, but I’m gonna get mine” gesture. The camera tilts to zoom in on MAXIMILIAN I, who pauses to give a you-are-the-first-to-die-in-my-fantasies glare at the DUCAL ENVOY, then puts his normal expression back on and resumes listening to the PETITIONER.]

[The COURT LAWYER sets the document aside and picks up another one, then winces.]

COURT LAWYER: For god’s sake, Schleswig-Holstein-Liga?

DUCAL ENVOY: I think that one’s just a soccer league, actually.

[The PETITIONER leaves. MAXIMILIAN I signals to the court musicians to stop playing. Suddenly, there is a sense silence. MAXIMILIAN I stands up, takes a deep breath, and screams.]

MAXIMILAN I: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[He pauses to breathe in again, then starts to storm offscreen, shouting.]

MAXIMILIAN I: *offscreen* If you rat bastards are going to wave forged documents in my face, at least have the goddamn decency to put in a little effort! The Habsburgs wrote the book on forgeries! Don’t TREAT ME LIKE A CHUMP!

RANDOM RETAINER: The, uh, the emperor will not be seeing any more petitioners today.

[The DUCAL ENVOY stands up and, taking his cue to leave, scoots away, opposite the direction the emperor left.]

[Cut to MAXIMILIAN I doing the talking-to-camera thing. Time has clearly passed, and servants are busy cleaning up rage-smashed furniture.]

MAXIMILIAN I: How come everyone who’s on my side sucks? The dukes, the electors, the rich territories, they’re always busy scheming and trying to fuck me over. But an abbey full of old nuns? Oh, we’re on your side, emperor! Anything you want, emperor! Here, here’s a pair of old sandles, that’ll keep the French from conquering Naples!

MAXIMILIAN I: *heavy, wistful sigh* I bet the Sultan doesn’t have to deal with shit like this. I wish I could be like that… with a harem of women, and not having to take any sass from anyone… this is getting edited out, right?

[Snap cut to interior – Topkapi Palace. Ottoman Sultan BAYEZID II is trying not to look guilty as his mother, GÜLBAHAR HATUN, lectures him.]

GÜLBAHAR HATUN: It’s been months, sweetie. Months!

BAYEZID II: *trying not to get snippy* I know, mother, but things have been crazy at work lately, and—

GÜLBAHAR HATUN: That’s what you say every time! I know you’re the head of the House of Osman, but you’re still my little boy too.

BAYEZID II: I’m sorry, it’s just, I’ve been on campaign, mom. I can’t just drop everything and come visit whenever I want. If we don’t control the Peloponnese, how are we going to have enough naval power to compete with the Venetians?

GÜLBAHAR HATUN: *crossing her arms* You care more about those Venetians than your own mother! The woman who gave birth to you!

[In the background, a HAREM LADY scoots by, trying not to be noticed, dressed in expensive but modest clothing. Cut to her doing the talking-to-camera thing.]

HAREM LADY: Look, I don’t know what those horny Austrians told you I did, but I just copy poetry, alright?

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

Postscripts:

This was delayed because it started with me going “Schleswig-Holstein? That is a funny name, I’m going to use that for this ask, because it is funny” only to find out that it has been involved in insanely complicated legal disputes for basically eight hundred years. I decided to get around the issue by not dealing with it.

Wiki-ing told me that Gülbar Hatun did, in fact, send letters to Bayezid II complaining that he was always too busy emperor-ing to visit her.

I spent too much time and attention at first trying to get the date-overlap right with things but stopped caring after a bit because it was against the spirit of prompts

[thosewickedlovelies]

AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: Banana Bread (part 1)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: probably T for mature themes (implications of sexy times and violence). It will go up later ;)

Summary: You share an apartment wall with Javier Peña, but that doesn’t make it any easier to get to know him. You didn’t think your baking would be the catalyst (read: Javi is jealous that Connie gets all the extras).

Tags: Mention of blood; super vague description of wound care; alcohol; TW for Javi: you have FEELINGS bby

Word count: 2,791

A/N: I guess technically this starts at the beginning of season 1, but I don’t plan on referencing the events of the show, so imagine they’re working on things less intense than trying to catch Escobar. I found Javier really tricky to write for, so I hope this reads okay! I’m so excited about the future chapters I have outlined for this lol pls get hype.

Masterlist

---

You had only been living in your new place for about a month when you got new neighbors. You were glad for the company- the four-apartment building was fairly new, and didn’t feel very lived-in. You did your best to add some personal flair to your apartment, but it still had the effect of reminding you of your own newness to this place, your lack of any deep personal connections.

Your other neighbor didn’t exactly help with that. Javier Peña had lived here for awhile before you moved in, but that was all you knew about him; you didn’t speak much beyond your neighborly greetings and his insinuating smiles. He never hides his lingering glances, but nor does he make any other moves- you sense he’s a safe type, all bark and no bite (without consent). So you always amusedly but politely ignore the invitation implicit in your exchanges. They don’t seem to have a lot of depth anyway, as if he’s just trying for the sake of trying. Granted, he probably never has to do much more than that- you’re very aware of how attractive your neighbor is on the surface. You just prefer to feel a connection slightly deeper than surface level before going home with someone.

You learn more about him from Connie, who tells you that he works at the embassy with her husband, Steve. In “janitorial services.” You raise a bemused eyebrow at that, but respect your neighbors’ privacy and don’t ask further questions. You help Connie get a job at a hospital a few blocks away from the one you’re a nurse at and promise to help her practice Spanish.

The building feels more lively now, and you’re happy to have a confidant upstairs, especially one who’s more privy to the life of your enigmatic hall-mate. You don’t know if it’s the neighborly care you feel for your new friend or if there’s some other unconscious change, but you begin to keep an ear out for Javier. You do share an apartment wall, although you don’t glean much through it. Some standard kitchen rummaging, television noise, the occasional bedroom guest (whose enterprises you try not to listen to, but damn if the man doesn’t have a perfect voice for after-dark activities). The most noticeable thing about him is the odd hours he keeps: sometimes in tandem with Steve’s schedule and sometimes not, you can never predict when he’ll be in or out.

--

Little do you know, you’re not the only one paying attention. Javier has spent many an evening alone with only whiskey and the television for company, but now there are other things to stimulate his senses. The smell of your baking filtering through the wall, even lingering in the hallway the next morning. The sound of you singing to the radio while clattering about the kitchen. Sometimes he turns the tv down to listen and imagines there being no wall between your two homes. What would his life be like with someone to infuse that kind of sweetness and light into it?

He doesn’t mean you specifically, necessarily. If, once or twice, your face jumps to mind while he’s taking care of himself in bed, he thinks nothing of it. You’re his beautiful neighbor- it’s a fantasy begging to be played out.

But damn if he hasn’t been tempted to make it a reality. He gets to taste your baking sometimes when you leave extras with Connie, and one day she catches his brow creased in a frown, distracted halfway through a slice of walnut banana bread.

“Javi,” Connie repeats, trying to get his attention.

“Yeah.” Javier snaps out of it, looking up.

“You’ve been staring at that piece of banana bread for a full two minutes. Is it gonna do a trick?”

He decides to lean into it, see what Connie’s reaction might be. “Only if the trick is getting me out of my pants. I don’t know a man alive who could resist the shit she makes.” He scoops another forkful into his mouth to prove his point, letting the rich, nutty flavor remind him of other places. Homes. Real homes, made of people, not the solitary kind he lives in now.

She rolls her eyes at his crudeness, but agrees. “You’re right about that. I don’t know where she gets the energy to do this after hospital shifts.”

Javier hides his next thought with another forkful of bread and a noncommittal noise. Wonder if she’d have as much energy for it if she had a man to tire her out. It was automatic, a question he couldn’t help debating with himself. Surely no one who spent that much time in the kitchen could have energy to spare on…other pursuits.

Connie is regarding him shrewdly. He avoids her gaze, focusing on finishing his plate in large mouthfuls to avoid the questions he can feel brewing. But he’s not quick enough. “Has she always brought you extras too?” she asks. Too casually, idling with her fork.

“No,” Javier says dismissively, and it’s not quite a scoff. “She wasn’t here long before you showed up. We’re not as close as you two.” Understatement. Did he sound sour about the fact?

Before Connie can ask any more questions he rises from his seat. “Well, don’t let me keep you. Tell Steve what I said.” With a nod of farewell, he turns and strides out the door.

--

One night you’re awoken with a start from where you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Heart pounding, you sit up, listening intently. You’d never felt unsafe here, but you’re aware of the potential dangers. What had woken you?

You hear a swear from the hall, and your muscles relax as you recognize Javier’s low voice. There’s a beat of silence, then a scraping, clinking sound. He must have dropped his keys. But then he grunts, and concern sweeps over you. You’re a nurse- you recognize the sound of a man stifling his pain.

There are long delays before each new noise that indicates an action. The doorknob twists as he grunts again, but it’s a moment before the key turns in the lock. It seems to take an age for him to get through the door; his motions sound clumsy before he closes it. Safe in the privacy of his home, so he thinks, he lets out a longer sigh, the pain and exhaustion now obvious in the sound. But you can hear his fumbling through the wall, and you worry your lip between your teeth. It is your place to go see if he’s alright?

Finally you decide that it is. You’re his neighbor and a healthcare professional, and it is your professional opinion that he sounded in-pain enough to warrant a check-up. Plus, you heard him that way before he got inside, you reason. So it’s not as if you were just being snoopy through the wall.

Just in case, though, you grab some muffins you made earlier as a backup excuse (once again mentally thanking whoever left the cookbook in your apartment). 11:30 isn’t too late for a friendly drop-by, right?

You knock softly on his door. “Javier? It’s me.” Nervous energy taps in your fingers. You’re never even been on his side of the hallway before.

There’s a shuffling sound, and the door unlatches. A narrow gap opens, into which Javier plants himself, and you immediately zero in on where he keeps one leg wedged behind the door. He leans into the elbow propped against the doorjamb above his head, while his other hand already holds a glass of what you can smell is whiskey. He looks like he would rather be anywhere but here at this moment. “Neighbor,” he greets dryly, a neutral expression on his face.

“Uhh.” You’ve never been this close to him before, and his appearance catches you off-guard. His usually combed hair is messy, waves tangling over his forehead, and he’s sweaty, the open collar of his shirt damp and the exposed skin gleaming with moisture.

Javier raises an eyebrow expectantly, taking a sip of his drink. His glances down at the plate in your hands, and it prompts you to speak.

“Hi, Javier. Uh, sorry, I know it’s late, but I thought I’d bring you some of these-“ you lift the dish “-before they come with me to work tomorrow. They’re banana bread muffins.” Your voice falters with your confidence. Your eyes can’t help but flicker over his face and chest, taking in the smear of dust on his jaw, the redness of the knuckles wrapped around his glass. Mostly you’re trying not to look at the leg he’s definitely hiding, which you can tell he’s keeping his weight off of.

--

Javier stares at you, not buying it for a second. His lips purse for lack of a cigarette to wrap around. He shifts the weight he has on his arm- damn, his leg hurts- and wonders what could have possibly prompted you to start bringing him baked goods now of all moments. “Why aren’t you bring those to Connie’s?” Like usual.

“Um, well-“ He sees your gaze finally drop to the leg he’s kept out of view, and too late remembers who got Connie the hospital job.

“I heard you drop your keys, and it sounded like you were in pain,” you confess. “I’m a nurse, Javier. I can help if you need it.” Though apologetic, your tone is firm, face sincere as you offer him aid. Him, your grumpy neighbor who does nothing but leer at you.

Well, he isn’t that proud. Javier sighs, and opens the door further. Your eyes widen as you see the long slice in his pant leg, blood still damp around the wound beneath. “Shit, Javier, what happened? It doesn’t matter, shit, sit down.” You surge forward without waiting for permission, tucking yourself under the arm of his uninjured side and steering him toward a dining room chair. Where he’d been about to sit down down and tend to the cut himself. He supposes your apartments mirror each other, but your familiar reaction to the layout still surprises him.

“Whoa, hey, watch the whiskey,” he exclaims, flailing out the arm holding the glass, taken aback by your sudden manhandling. With one hand still occupied by the muffins, you direct him solely with an around his waist and your shoulder propped under his armpit. He couldn’t have resisted if he tried. If it weren’t for the fiery pain in his leg, your hold would have him feeling a very different kind of heat.

You give him a look that says you won’t be fooled by his blustering as you deposit him onto the chair and the plate on the table. “May I?” you ask, kneeling, hands hovering above his wound.

“Oh, now you’re asking permission?” He scoffs in disbelief but waves a hand in consent, leaning back in the seat.

You scoff right back at him. “Look, I see blood, I make the macho men sit, okay? Why didn’t you go to a hospital with this?”

Javier studies you as you carefully lift the denim to peer at the cut on his thigh. He takes a sip of whiskey to buy time (as well as dull the stinging pain). You’ve put on a robe over what looks like pajamas, but you seem too alert to have just dragged yourself from bed. And yet...was that a pillow mark on your cheek? Just there, arcing from your temple to your jaw…

“Javier?" you're looking up at him, a touch of confusion on your face.

“Did I wake you up?” he hears himself asking.

Her gaze drops again. “No,” you answer. “Well, yes, but I fell asleep on the couch, so it was a good thing.”

Ah, that explained the pillow mark.

Finally you stand. Your hands rest on your hips, heedless of your fingertips smudged red with his blood. “It doesn’t actually look too bad. I have enough supplies here to fix you up. You stay here, take off your pants if you can manage it by yourself, and I’ll be right back.” And with that you whisk away, robe swishing through his front door.

Javier remains where he is, a bit stunned by this turn of events, your sudden insertion into his life. He shakes his head. Maybe whiskey and blood loss shouldn’t go together. He tosses back the rest of his glass anyway in order to wrangle off his jeans.

By the time you return, he feels more composed, if rather uncomfortably vulnerable, sitting in just his boxers with a bloody slice across his thigh. He watches silently as you arrange various medical supplies on the table and pull up a chair across from him. You perch on the edge of it and look at him before doing anything else. “Are you gonna tell me how you got this?”

He’s not about to tell you it was a fluke accident during one of Carillo's interrogations. Somehow, while his back was turned, the guy got free and tried to escape, swinging a knife wildly as he hurled past Javier. The cut was long, ugly, but shallow. He’d live. He couldn’t say the same for the man who delivered it.

--

Javier considers his answer. “Can’t,” he says. “It’s better if you don’t know.” His gaze skitters away as he speaks.

He works for the government with a poker face like that? “Janitorial work, huh?” you say dryly. Sighing, you reach for the antiseptic. “At least tell me what made it. So I can treat it properly.” You look at him steadily.

Javier looks back for a long moment. “A knife,” he says at last.

You nod, and rip open a packet of gauze. He sucks air through his teeth as the antiseptic sears the wound clean, but otherwise doesn’t speak while you work. Which is fine. You notice he’s drained his glass, and you empathize. Frankly you wish you had a drink yourself right now.

Once you’ve cleaned the cut it’s easier to see the damage. Which is minimal, thankfully. Most of the blood was probably from him moving around when it happened. You explain what you’re doing as you seal the wound closed. Only when you’re almost finished does he speak.

“Why don’t you ever bake me anything?”

It’s so unexpected that your hands still. You stare at him in astonishment, waiting for him to elaborate.

“What I mean is…christ,” Javier mutters. The unflattering fluorescent light overhead highlights the dark circles under his eyes as he scrubs a hand over his face. “You always leave extras of stuff at Steve and Connie’s. Never here.” With me.

You resume your work on his thigh, surprised to feel a tinge of guilt. “You didn’t seem like a baked goods kind of guy,” you reply, hoping you don’t sound too defensive. It was true, after all. Though you never got a sense of threat from Javier, neither did he seem the type who would appreciate domestic gestures of friendship.

He didn’t look offended, however. I’ll try anything once,” he says, the ghost of a familiar smirk suggesting he’s feeling better. But then he leans forward, all traces of smirk vanishing. “And your lemon drizzle cake was incredible.” Javier looks at you seriously. His face is too close for your level of acquaintanceship, but you don’t move away.

Surprised, you assess him anew, wondering if you’re catching a glimpse of the man beneath all the masculine posturing. He’s nicer-looking this way, you muse. His face softer, brown eyes wide and sincere. You hide just how pleased you are at this insight (which you’re sure he has no idea he’s giving you) beyond allowing yourself a small smile.

“Well, maybe next time I’ll bring you some.”

--

Javier can’t quite find another quippy response, so he just gives a small nod, finding it hard to draw back even after you break his gaze. He tries not to fidget as you place a final strip of tape over the gauze bandage.

“There,” you declare, your work complete. “That should hold you for tonight.” You stand and gather up your supplies, giving him care instructions as you go. “Got it?” You seem much more relaxed than when you first arrived, confidence in your work squaring your shoulders. It’s…compelling, much more so than your usual reserved smiles in the hall.

“Yes ma’am.” Javier nods, not having heard a word. “…Thank you,” he adds, begrudgingly grateful.

You smile wryly at him. “Goodnight, Javier.”

You’ve nearly reached the door when he speaks again. “Javi.”

“Hm?” Pausing, you turn back to him.

He clears his throat. “You…you can call me Javi.”

Your smile is much warmer this time, brightening your eyes, and Javier feels his heart pound. “Goodnight, Javi.”

[yunhoiseyecandy]

ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ (ᴍ)

✕ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ — ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ

✕ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ — ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ!ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ x ꜰ.ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✕ ᴡ.ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ — 𝟸.𝟶ᴋ

✕ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ — ᴠᴀɴɪʟʟᴀ, ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ, ᴘᴇᴛ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ, ꜱʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴇᴀꜱɪɴɢ, ᴅɪʀᴛʏ ᴛᴀʟᴋ

─────

it was strange, at first. all the fluffy gowns and early mornings, but you’d learned to get used to all of it. 

it was worth it, day and night, having people dress you up in fancy outfits, only to have them take it off an hour or two later to put something else on. because no matter how annoying or stressful it was starting to get for you, all the pressure being put on the future queen of this palace, it meant so much to seonghwa. 

and that was the main thing that kept you going

the thought of making him happy, something he’d only just recently started to feel;

happiness, love

you two had met only a year ago when you had taken the position as his maid, soon realizing that the person who people have claimed to be a notorious monster of a human was someone who might’ve just been the most beautiful person you’d ever met in your life.

he was pleasant to be around, treating you with such respect that made you feel as if you had known him your whole life, and not only a week.

it didn’t take much time for you both to warm up to each other, soon becoming closer than anyone could ever imagine. and maybe it was because of how much time you’d spent together, or it might’ve been because of how warm and giddy he made you feel inside, but you soon came to realize that maybe you were meant to be more than friends.

but of course, that could never happen, only stories held fantasies where the prince fell for his maid. at least, that’s what you believed.

“y/n, why can’t you just listen?” the food you had brought him had been discarded a long time ago, the only thing that could be heard throughout the palace walls being your screams towards each other. “listen? seonghwa, I can’t just listen,”

“well, why not?”

“because I’m sick and tired of it! you keep telling me we’ll be fine, that we’ll make it through this because we’re strong,” you paused to take a deep breath, the tears running along your waterline threatening to fall. “but how can you be so sure? I’m a maid, for christ’s sake - your maid!”

he hated the words that were spewing out of your mouth, knowing they were only the result of fear and anger, and he knew you were just-

“I”m scared, seonghwa. what if we can’t get through this? what if we’re not meant to be together?” he watched as you sat on his bed, hands running along your skirt to try and fix the wrinkles you had made from fisting the material.

“baby, of course we’ll make it past this,” he walked over to where you sat and knelt in front of you, “just give me some time, okay?” 

and you did, to which he proved he was able to hold himself to his words. the day after you both had broken out in an argument the king himself had asked his son what had happened, concerned for seonghwas well being.

seonghwa told you that his father had known about your relationship with him, but had decided it’d be best to keep to himself about to matter. 

and you were more than grateful for that, telling the king yourself how much it meant for him to accept your feelings for one another. it meant more than the world itself to have his blessing, and when he had told you the queen had adored you since the day you’d started working here you burst out in tears at the joy that was overwhelming your body.

to say you got lucky would be an understatement. you were starting to feel confident being in a relationship with seonghwa, now that you were allowed to show public affection towards him. it was an amazing feeling, the first time you kissed him in front of other people, finally being able to claim the man you love.

and whenever he would wrap his arms around you, pulling you in for a deep kiss, it would make your tummy do backflips. his simple actions becoming habits that were no longer meant for only in private.

and god were you excited to start this new chapter in your life.

—

“love, you look beautiful.” seonghwa said as he gently grabbed your hands in his, his warm skin easing your nerves. 

“seonghwa, shut up.”

he giggled, looking over your features. your hair was tied up in a tight bun, the baby hairs that layed along your hairline popping out. he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment, and so far everything was going as planned.

‘do you, seonghwa park, take y/n l/n as your beloved wife?”

seonghwa felt tears spring in his eyes, trying his best not to hold you by your waist. but as soon as he looked over to you, he tried to blink them away as fast as he could, noticing that you were already crying.

“I do.”

the priest smiled and turned towards you, book in hand. “and do you, y/n l/n, take seonghwa park to be your beloved husband?”

choking back a sob, you spoke out the words you’ve been waiting to say all day. 

“I do.”

“my god, am I exhausted,” seonghwa plopped down on the chair closest to the window, looking outside to the palace garden. “me too, baby. do you want to go to bed?”

he pondered over the thought for a moment.

of course he wanted to go to bed. it’d been a long and tiring day for both of you. so of course his body longed for the soft pillowy feeling to engulf him.

and as much as he longed for sleep, he couldn’t ignore the feeling of need in his stomach, his eyes moving to the light coming from the bathroom where you stood doing your night routine.

“seonghwa? are you listening to me?” you shouted, hands moving the warm, damp cloth over your body. you hated feeling all sticky, the sweat from earlier starting to build up. 

“yes,”

“good, did you hear me?” pulling the towel around you, you stood up and picked up the white lace in your hands, admiring the material and how it felt. if he’s tired, this can wait until tomorrow.

“baby, can you come out please?” he swished the water in his cup around some, pulling the glass up to his lips. 

thinking of his next actions, he placed the cup on the window seel and pulled at his tie, unbuttoning the few first buttons of his shirt.

the only thing on his mind right now being how gorgeous you are; pretty, plump lips that he so badly wanted to engulf in his own, and you had such a beautiful body, too.

he absolutely adored the stretch marks that layed across your waist and tummy, loving to move his fingers along them whenever your shirt rose up just enough.

and your thighs? god, the amount of times he’d wished he was in between them is concerning-

“are you okay, love? you have that serious look on your face that you only have when you’re deep in thought.” you giggled, opening the door to reveal you in one of his shirts.

“y/n,” he hesitated, unsure if he should say it or not. “I want to make love to you.”

you paused, body tensing up while pulling the covers down to the end of the bed where he was standing. “w-what?”

walking up to you he pulled you flush against his body, “you heard me, love. may I?”

you were speechless as you rested your hands against his chest. you felt the heat start to pool between your legs, back arching into him ever so slightly. “I-”

“please.”

he softly met his lips with yours in a soft, but meaningful kiss, his hands resting dangerously low. you felt him nip at your bottom lip and you moaned, giving him perfect access to taste you.

“seonghwa, you can touch me more if you want.”

and so he did. he pushed you back and onto the bed, hands flying to push up your shirt. but before he continued his eyes flickered to yours as if asking permission, and you nodded to let him know it was okay.

your mouth fell open when his hand gently rubbed against your nipple, mouth coming down to lick at the perky nub, his eyes never once leaving yours.

“seonghwa, shit.”

his lips felt like feathers while he trailed down your body, hand pulling down your underwear and tossing it to the side. “you sensitive, my love?” and some part of him told him not to feel bad when you didn’t respond.

because as soon as he spread your legs open, mouth trailing sloppy, wet kisses along the inside of your thighs, that’s when he knew you most definitely were sensitive.

and that thought had him wanting to taste you even more

“you’re just my sensitive little baby, aren’t you? such a good girl for me,” his hands ran over your thighs while he placed soft kisses on your clit. “more, please.”

his senses were on overdrive as his tongue slid over your slit, collecting your wetness and dipping the tip of it into your needy hole. “feel good, baby? you’re so fucking sweet,”

your back arched and you clenched around him while you looked down at the view below you. his head was dipped between your legs, and you don’t think you’ve seen a prettier sight. “y-yes, gonna come-”

he pulled away at your words, hands coming down to pull his pants down with his underwear.

“I want you to come on my cock, love. maybe later you can come on daddy’s tongue.”

kissing his way up your body, his lips met yours in a more heated kiss this time, tongues moving with each other. “see, baby? you taste so damn good.”

you wrapped your legs around your waist, arms finding their way to rest at his shoulders. his skin was warm against yours, touch easing your burning skin. “I can’t wait to be inside you,”

he ground down into you, tip grazing your clit, and it had you moaning for him to fuck you already.

“you’re so wet, love.” he pushed inside some, eyes roaming your face for any sign of discomfort. “can you take all of me?”

you nodded, and he pushed in, bottoming out and moaning at how tight you felt around him. he knew you relaxed some, so he knew you weren’t in pain when he pulled back out and pushed in again.

“fucking hell, love. you look so beautiful like this, screaming my name like the good girl you are.”

he felt so good inside of you, the vein running along the bottom side of his cock grazing your walls. “s-seonghwa, I can feel you everywhere,”

“yeah? love how good daddy’s making you feel?”

his cock twitched when you clenched around his cock, hand resting at your waist to steady himself. “c-close!”

“me too, love. come on, soak my cock.”

you squirmed under him, legs tightening around his waist. he shoved his head in the crook of your neck and groaned while he came in you, filling you up till it leaked out of you.

he layed on his elbows for a moment, taking some time to get his breathing back to normal.  

slowly he pulled out of you, kissing your forehead and walking to the bathroom the get a washcloth. 

“are you okay, baby? was I too rough-”

“I’m okay, seonghwa. promise,” you said and offered him a cheeky smile. “good,”

“can we cuddle?”

─────

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

─────

[ ᴛᴀɢ ʟɪꜱᴛ ]

@galaxteez

─────

ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜱ ʀᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ © ʏᴜɴʜᴏɪꜱᴇʏᴇᴄᴀɴᴅʏ. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ.

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ.

─────

[tigerkirby215]

5e Samira, the Desert Rose build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Jessica 'OwleyCat' Oyhenart. Made for Riot Games.)

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Still fucking hate this champ but her theme still slaps.

The eternal joke of me putting off making a build for Samira is finally over, though ironically enough my distain for this champ has only grown overtime. Jesus fucking Christ Rito can you nerf this champ’s goddamn damage? Like nerfing her lifesteal is nice and all but it doesn’t mean shit when my dumbfuck teammates picked 4 assassins into her and I’m the only one who can CC her as a Lulu.

Ah well: Samira still definitely fills a fantasy everyone wants, being a badass with sword and gun styling on the competition. Devil May Cry? Yeah I suppose Samira would be pretty good in a campaign against Fiends.

GOALS

You want style? You've found her - Smile, Sweet, Sister, Sadistic; we’ll need to Surprise the Service with Style to Spare. Sssssssssssssssssamira.

Eyes up! - We’ll need to be everywhere at once, dashing and dancing around the battlefield so no one can lock us down.

Showtime! - When push comes to shove it’s time to speeeeeeeeeen~

RACE

Samira is human no matter what the meta might dictate, and for once in my life I actually want something particular from Variant Human. But firstly: you can increase two Ability Scores of your choice by 1: increase both Dexterity and Wisdom for sharp sight and sharper shots. You also get a skill of your choice and a language of your pleasing. For your skill take Slight of Hand for flips and other gun tricks, and for your language Infernal will be good for your Inferno Trigger.

Again: we came to Variant Human land for a Feat because two guns are better than one. The Crossbow Expert Feat will give you a variety of benefits: no need to reload (or at least the ability to ignore the Loading property), no disadvantage in melee range... But most importantly if you fire a Hand Crossbow (which will be working as our handgun in this build) you can fire it again as a Bonus Action! "Well! Look at you."

ABILITY SCORES

15; DEXTERITY - Dexterity is tied to both shooting and backflips.

14; CHARISMA - Who needs a military license when you’ve got style?

13; WISDOM - Wisdom measures how in-tune you are with the world around you, and you need heightened senses not to die doing stupid shit.

12; CONSTITUTION - Most of Samira’s sustain comes from Lifesteal but we won’t really be able to get lifesteal, so just focus on not dying really.

10; STRENGTH - It takes a lot of upper body strength to do the stuff that Samira does but Riot isn’t about to make another Illaoi.

8; INTELLIGENCE - Your primary goal is to do things as recklessly and dangerously as possible... “for the Vine” as the kids say. Vine shut down ages ago!

BACKGROUND

Samira is a mercenary. I wonder if there’s a background for that... hey look at that Mercenary Veteran in the Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide! You get proficiency in Athletics and Persuasion as well as Ground Vehicles and a gaming set of your choice. But of course the main benefit of being a mercenary is the Mercenary Life. You can easily identify other mercenaries and know bits and pieces of their lives. You can also easily find work by hanging around taverns and such until Captain Indari passes on some info to you.

(Artwork made for Riot Games)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ROGUE 1

Starting off as a Rogue because I like skill proficiencies! Skills like Acrobatics, Perception, Insight, and Performance; you were a street performer once! You also get Expertise in two of those skills: Acrobatics and Athletics are necessary to be everywhere at once.

You can chat in Noxian military code thanks to Thieves’ Cant, but c’mon that’s not what we’re here for. We’re here for Sneak Attack! If an enemy is distracted or you have advantage you can stick a d6 where the sun don’t shine!

LEVEL 2 - ROGUE 2

Second level Rogues get Cunning Action, letting them Dash, Disengage, or Hide as a Bonus Action. Dance around the battlefield like an Olympic gymnast... does Runeterra have the Olympics?

LEVEL 3 - ROGUE 3

Third level Rogues get to choose their Roguish Archetype: to be the queen of style and also make people think you’re from Bilgewater (yeah I get it; it’s because of the eyepatch) look no further than the Swashbuckler subclass. Swashbucklers get two abilities at level 1 but honestly it’s more like three abilities: Rakish Audacity will let you add your Charisma modifier to initiative rolls so you can get into fights fast, and will also let you Sneak Attack anyone who’s beside you. I’d consider it less like you sneak attacking them and more like you slashing them with your sword. Oh and speaking of Sneak Attack? That increases to 2d6 now.

Speaking of sword slashing: Fancy Footwork is the mobile feat! Well, it makes it so that after you try to make a melee attack against an enemy you can move away without provoking opportunity attacks. It’s a little weird to run around with a sword in one hand and a gun in the other but you can easily slash at someone before backflipping away and running off to shoot them next turn!

(Artwork by @Aruneeko on Twitter)

LEVEL 4 - BARD 1

You didn’t think we’d be settling for just one class, did you? It’s time to go Bard; the masters of style! Bards get another skill proficiency at level 1 because why not be good at everything? Grab Medicine proficiency because it’s good to know how to bandage yourself up when living a dangerous lifestyle. “On my worst behavior." You also get a musical instrument and you know that I’ll always opt for good ol’ Noxian War Drums.

Bards get Bardic Inspiration, letting them show off their awesomeness so that awesomeness radiates onto their allies to give them a d6 to attack rolls, ability checks, and saving throws. You’ve got a number of these equal to your Charisma modifier, and regain them at the end of a Long Rest. For now, at least.

And of course while you may be all guns your style makes it look like Spellcasting... because it is. Bards get 2 cantrips and 4 spells at level 1:

CANTRIPS

Prestidigitation will let you put all the visual flair you could want on your moves, and more!

If you wanna walk the walk you’ve gotta talk the talk, and Vicious Mockery will let you talk smack so hard they can’t hit back! "Keep the change; you're gonna need it."

SPELLS

Magic is usually dangerous, and danger is usually fun! Take Detect Magic to see where that danger may be!

If you need some space in a pinch Thunderwave will give yourself some peel.

Steel yourself to do something crazy with Heroism, which will also give you a bit of a shield to do so!

You are still technically working for Noxus so it would be good to Identify anything important... or valuable... For safe keeping of course!

LEVEL 5 - BARD 2

Second level Bards truly are good at everything thanks to Jack of All Trades, letting you add half your proficiency bonus to any skill you don’t have proficiency in. You probably noticed that we already have proficiency in a silly amount of skills but I’m not going to say no to MORE!

After dangerous stunts it’s good to cool off with a Song of Rest, letting you help your crew with a d6 of healing during short rests to bandage up those wounds.

And of course: more spells! Faerie Fire will let you light ‘em up to get advantage, which will make it easier to sneak attack!

LEVEL 6 - BARD 3

Third level Bards get Expertise in two more skills: Perception will help you spot danger and Medicine will help you after dealing with danger.

But of course what we’re mainly here for is your Bardic College and in order to be too cool for school go for the College of Swords. You get some Bonus Proficiencies that don’t really matter but what does matter is you can use your sword to cast spells instead of a drum! Additionally you get a choice of Fighting Style and Dueling will make your sword swings do more damage if you swing it with one hand. I guess it’s worth mentioning that while a rapier would do the most damage a scimitar is the only finesse weapon that does slashing? (Excluding whips.)

But the main feature we’re here for is Blade Flourish which despite the name does also work with your hand crossbows. When you attack your movement speed increases by 10 feet as you charge up that Daredevil Impulse. If you hit with your shot however you can make a Blade Flourish (which again works with your hand crossbows?) of your choice from the following list:

Defensive Flourish does extra damage and also increases your AC as you dodge incoming projectiles.

Slashing Flourish will let you cleave with your sword (and just your sword because it only works on nearby enemies.)

Mobile Flourish will let you chase after a fleeing foe... after pushing them. But after shoving them into danger you can use your reaction to dive right in!

You can only use one Blade Flourish per turn which will matter later. As for what will matter now? Second level spells! Enhance Ability will help you give 110%!

LEVEL 7 - BARD 4

Heeey it’s about time we got an Ability Score Improvement! Our Dexterity has been lacking and you need that to fire straight!

Word of advice: if you know you aren’t going to level 20 feel free to get 4 levels in Rogue for the sake of the ASI.

You also get another spell, and another cantrip! For your cantrip Message is always good for keeping in team chat. For leveled spells Warding Wind does let you deflect nearby projectiles so... 

LEVEL 8 - BARD 5

5th level Bards get Font of Inspiration so their Bardic Inspiration die come back on a Short Rest, which is good because said Bardic Inspiration die also increases to a d8! Oh and when I say “Bardic Inspiration” I actually mean your Blade Flourish die. "If you can't keep up don't step up. I don't have time for fools."

And now third level spells are up on the table, but they all suck so take Mirror Image from the second level instead, which was added to the Bard spell list thanks to Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything!

(Artwork by GaMu-ChAn on DeviantArt)

LEVEL 9 - RANGER 1

Three way multiclass? Don’t mind if I do! You get an extra skill proficiency by multiclassing into Ranger, because why not. Take Survival because you’re clearly damn good at it since you’re still alive.

Rangers get Deft Explorer at level 1 because Natural Explorer sucks and Tasha’s made Ranger a good class! Canny lets you learn two languages (honestly just pick your poison) and get Expertise in another skill, because lord knows we don’t have enough of those. I know we just got Survival proficiency, but it’s good to be good at not dying! (As well as finding food.)

You also get Favored Foe at first level, because Favored Enemy smells. If you shoot someone you can legally-not-Hunter’s Mark them so they take a d4 of extra damage once per turn when you shoot them. You concentrate on it like a spell and it works a lot like the Hunter’s Mark spell but you have a limited number of uses equal to your proficiency bonus, instead of using your spell slots.

LEVEL 10 - RANGER 2

Heeey more Fighting Styles! You already improved your sword swings so take Archery for +2 to ranged attack rolls to ensure that you hit your shots.

Rangers also get Spellcasting, only this spellcasting works with your Wisdom instead of your Charisma! You learn two spells from the Ranger list: Jump will let you do some hardcore parkour because the Ranger spell list sucks and I’ve got nothing else to give you, and Cure Wounds will allow Samira to have some healing... as a treat.

LEVEL 11 - RANGER 3

Third level Rangers can choose their archetype and Hunters are masters at taking down their foes. You can choose a way to take down your Hunter’s Prey. Colossus Slayer is a fairly simple affair: if you shoot (or stab) someone who’s already hurt they take an extra d8 of damage. Though you can only apply that extra d8 once per turn.

You also learn another spell: Longstrider will help you move thanks to that Daredevil Impulse. 10 feet may not seem like much but remember that you get an extra 10 feet thanks to Blade Flourish and can dash to turn 50 feet into 100 feet of movement!

Oh and I also completely forgot about Primal Awareness, which replaces Primeval Awareness. You can Speak with Animals once per day! Maybe not in character, but it helps if you have a Yuumi!

LEVEL 12 - RANGER 4

4th level Rangers get an Ability Score Improvement: time to finally cap that Dexterity score for the most precise shots and deadly cuts possible!

(Artwork by Jennifer Wuestling. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 13 - RANGER 5

Total level 13 isn’t too late to get an Extra Attack, right? Well you can shoot twice now and mix some more Flair into your combos.

You can also learn second level spells now like Aid (ty Tasha’s) to let that adrenaline kick in so you feel no pain. Primal Awareness also gives you Beast Sense for a bit of covert Psy Ops.

LEVEL 14 - RANGER 6

6th level Rangers get Roving from Deft Explorer for 5 extra feet of movement along with a climbing speed and a swimming speed! Reminder that in combination with both Longstrider and Blade Flourish that increases to a whopping 55 movement speed, which means that you can Dash as a Bonus Action to move 110 feet in a turn! "Danger runs from me." Your Favored Foe mark also increases to a d6 of damage.

LEVEL 15 - RANGER 7

7th level Hunters learn some Defensive Tactics: while perhaps not the most useful since you have Heroism and all you’ve certainly got a Steel Will, giving you advantage against being frightened. “Death isn't the scariest thing; it's a mother's rage."

You can also learn another spell: Lesser Restoration can be helpful in a pinch if someone’s trying to slow you down. Or at least if they’re trying to blind, deafen, poison, or paralyze you.

LEVEL 16 - RANGER 8

8th level of Ranger means another Ability Score Improvement: Charisma means higher initiative rolls as well as more Blade Flourishes. Simply put Wisdom can’t beat style!

Oh yeah and you also get Land’s Stride to move through non-magical difficult terrain and plants without slowing down, and for advantage against magic plants. I legit forgot this was even a thing before seeing it on the character sheet.

(Artwork by dominaART on DeviantArt)

LEVEL 17 - RANGER 9

9th level Rangers get 3rd level spells like Conjure Barrage for some bullet rain; "My kind of rain!" Basically you shoot a bunch of bullets in a big cone, because Rangers get this instead of Fireball. Honestly something like Elemental Weapon (ty Tasha’s) would probably be better but we’re still sticking to flavor.

Oh and you can Speak with Plants thanks to Primal Awareness? Honestly these extra spells don’t fit at all but Primeval Awareness sucks. I’m literally adding these extra spells to the build last second.

LEVEL 18 - RANGER 10

10th level Rangers get Tireless from Deft Explorer. As an action, you can give yourself a Shieldbow shield for 1d8 + your Wisdom modifier in Temporary Hitpoints. You can do this a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest. Additionally: whenever you finish a short rest, your exhaustion level is decreased by 1. Because danger doesn’t wait!

You also get Nature’s Veil because even if Vanish fits Samira better it still freaking sucks. Basically you can play around with Duskblade to turn invisible as a Bonus Action until the end of your next turn. You can use this feature a number of times equal to your proficiency bonus, and you regain all expended uses when you finish a long rest.

LEVEL 19 - RANGER 11

11th level Hunters can finally spin around and hit everyone around them. Whirlwind Attack will let you make a melee attack against any enemy within 5 feet of you (with a separate attack roll for each target.) This is best used when surrounded (obviously) because unlike Samira’s ultimate in League it doesn’t do much extra damage, and you’re better off just stabbing them twice if you want DPS in a 1v1.

You also get your final spell known: take Wind Wall because you have an AoE Wind Wall and I thought it would be funny to steal directly from mister 0/10 powerspike himself. But really get whatever spell you think will be useful.

LEVEL 20 - RANGER 12

Full disclosure: feel free to go for 4 levels in Rogue if you know you aren’t going to hit level 20. I only went for Ranger level 12 because the hit die is bigger.

One last ability score improvement to top the build off: Charisma is still used for a lot of abilities, so increase that because who needs common sense when you’ve got blade flourishes!

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Came all this way to die? - You have many a way to bump up the damage. With 2d6 on a sneak attack, an extra d6 from Favored Foe, a d8 from Blade Flourishes, and a d8 from Colossus Slayer that means that on average you can do about 20 extra damage every turn. That’s definitely nothing to sneeze at!

Finally some action! - Have you ever had +12 to initiative? Would you like to? You are incredibly mobile for a girl who didn’t bring Flash (IE Misty Step) with tons of ways to increase your movement speed and the ability to Dash every turn as a Bonus Action.

This took years of practice... for everyone else - It was not my intention but wow you’re quite the little skill monkey. Two expertise skills from Rogue, another 2 from Bard, and one more from Deft Explorer. Not to mention Jack of All Trades in what few skills you aren’t proficient in to make sure you can do just about anything.

CONS

Oh... I really gotta check these more often - Your spellcasting really isn’t fantastic. We invested almost everything into Charisma but we have very few Bard spells. While I did my best to avoid Ranger spells that forced saving throws there are still some that suffer due to your relatively low Wisdom score... Oh yeah you also have 6th level spell slots but your known spells don’t go past level 3. At least that means you can buff the party with Aid!

I feel most alive when I'm walking the line - As great as your skill checks are your saving throws are quite lacking. Your Dexterity is nice but that’s about it; all your other saves range from average (+5) to bad (+0) Notably your Constitution saves are a mere +1, which means you won’t keep concentration up for long if you play recklessly.

Well-behaved women don't make it - There are a lot of features I took more for flavor then actual utility. For a start Hunter is a rather meh multiclass. This might be one of the times “just play a Fighter with a bow” applies as a subclass like Battlemaster would’ve likely been a better choice, and honestly going down full Swords Bard would’ve given you far more utility overall. There were benefits from Ranger levels but they were lost in the multiclassing MADness.

But you prove that modern-day killers really must hate fun; more often people can’t get style rockin' knives and guns. You don’t need no fancy magic or divine ascension to be a badass: gun ‘em down and cut through whatever remains to show that S stands for Samira and Samira alone... As long as she isn’t permabanned.

(Artwork by @Yangyexin on Twitter)

[hamliet]

Hi Hamliet, if it's okay to ask, what are your thoughts on the aotnorequiem as a whole so far? I'd love to hear your insights but please feel free to ignore this ask also. Thank you!

I won't read it and don't want to consider it, honestly. From a moral perspective, this is disgusting not just in terms of context but in terms of purpose.

This is not fanfiction. This is an entitled angry group of manbabies screaming in rage that they didn't get Genocide and their Chad sleeping with the girl they found attractive. Gross. Everything about it is gross, reeking of toxic masculinity, nauseating, and sexist. They're not quietly writing fix-it fics like fans normally do; they're trying to rub it in Isayama's face, which is entitled and insulting. Like the one time fan stories didn't cater to white men they're enraged.

They just didn't like Isayama's callout of them. Like really:

Isayama: Eren is a reddit dudebro.

Reddit dudebros: HELL YEAH HE IS WE'RE GONNA GET A POWER FANTASY OF GENOCIDE FOR THE SAKE OF GOOD SEX AND KILL THE ONE POC CHARACTER

Isayama: They are just throwing temper tantrums and accomplish nothing. Eren is at is core "whiny."

Reddit dudebros: EXCUSE ME? HOW DARE YOU??? (write fanfic, plan to bully Isayama into making it canon, pin it to the reddit link and the mods delete any dissent or critique*

Like thanks for proving Isayama right lol? At the very least at least this is what Eren would do.

Everyone involved in it can eat rocks. I have no respect for any of this public tantrum.

[themadlostgirl]

When It’s Cold (3)

*It’s the mutual pining for me*

~~~

A few weeks had passed of Felix and I living together and trying to find our way back to Neverland. So far all our ideas and plans lead to nothing and I was starting to get disheartened. It felt like we were never going to get back to Neverland at this rate.

Life in the mansion was pretty nice though. We were a little worried during the first week, paranoid that someone was going to return and throw us out into the cold but no one even came near the house. I was starting to wonder if anyone besides us even knew it was here.

Over the course of our stay I learned how to do laundry and bought a bike so I could get to and from town quicker. Felix and I had discussed stealing a car but seeing as how neither of us knew how to drive and stealing a car would put us under investigation we didn’t. Felix on the other hand turned out to be quite adept at cooking. He found a recipe book in one of the drawers of the kitchen and seemed to enjoy figuring out how to make certain dishes. Aside from a few burned casseroles and a very unfortunate miscommunication involving spaghetti he was doing really well. Almost every evening he had some new dish ready for dinner. I started baking again so we always had warm brownies or chocolate chip cookies in the house.

Life was good. When we weren’t looking into ways back to Neverland we were lounging around the house. We found a record player in one of the rooms and played it when it was too quiet. A few times I had caught Felix dancing around the kitchen while cooking dinner at which point he immediately stopped and pretended he wasn’t. It made him a whole lot less intimidating seeing that he was secretly a bit of a dork underneath the hard exterior.

I think that was the best part of being stuck here together. We were learning more about each other. Felix was really closed off from conversations at first but after a few days his tongue loosened up. I learned that he got the scar on his face as a result of an incident before he came to Neverland though he couldn’t remember what exactly. He preferred sweet over salty and loved chocolate covered pretzels. On Neverland he used to collect sand dollars until the other boys found his collection and smashed them all. It was nice learning these little things about him. It made me feel like we were closer.

When the idle days became too much to bear we turned to sparring to keep the boredom away. We turned the ballroom into a sparring arena so we wouldn’t lose our edge. So far we’ve only broken one vase!

One such day we were in the ballroom again fighting and I had finally got a leg up on Felix and pinned him to the ground. “Gotcha!” We were both breathing hard and I was sat right on top of him with my arms pinning his wrists against the floor. I froze as the position we were in rocketed into my mind. Felix took the moment of hesitation to break free from my hold and rolled us over so I was pinned under him. I could have argued that this position was even worse.

I swear I tried not to stare at his lips. I really did but one quick flicker down his face and I couldn’t stop looking no matter how many times I forced my eyes to look back up at his eyes.

He let me go when he saw I had completely checked out of the fight and left, leaving me reeling on the floor as to what just happened.

For as friendly as things between Felix and I got there was a problem running parallel to it. I had hoped that the last of my dirty thoughts and weird feelings for Felix would have gone away after that first day but it seemed to be having the opposite effect. The closer Felix and I got as friends the more I was pining after him and it was torture!

At some point I stopped trying to deny my body the release it craved when my mind created lewd fantasies of Felix. There was nothing wrong if it was all in my head. No one would have to know and our relationship as roommates, partners, and friends would be untarnished.

I had everything under control. That is until the night the electric went out.

There had been a huge snow storm and it knocked out power to the whole town. Huddled under a bunch of blankets and thick warm layers of clothes helped keep out any chill but it didn’t keep me warm enough. I had left the warmth of my room to start a fire in the fireplace and noticed that it was already lit. Felix was sitting in front of it with a blanket wrapped around him.

“Cold got to you too?” I asked as I sat down next to him.

“Didn’t realize how much I hated being cold until the heat turned off.” He sighed.

We sat in companionable silence for a while, listening to the fire crackle.

“Felix,” I finally said, “Do you think we’re ever gonna find a way out of here and back to Neverland? It’s been over a month and we haven’t made any headway.”

“I know.” Felix turned to look at me, “It gets a little harder everyday to keep up the flimsy hope that we’ll get back home.”

“I’m sorry I made come here.” I told him, “You would be back on Neverland without a worry in the world if I hadn’t asked you to come with me.”

“My decisions are my own. No use blaming yourself for them.” Felix ruffled my hair, the only form of affection he willingly showed.

“So why then?” I asked, “Why did you come to Storybrooke with me?”

“Why did you ask me to come?” He countered.

I took a deep breath. This same old impasse.  He wouldn’t answer me unless I answered him first.

“I wanted to have someone I knew I could rely on.” I answered, “The boys that left on the ship with the adults couldn’t be relied on. They wanted families and lives away from Neverland. They wouldn’t help me get revenge for what those bastards did to Pan. But you were always loyal and I knew that you would help me if it meant avenging him.”

“You could have asked any of the other boys that chose to stay. They were also loyal. Why not ask one of them? Or was it that you had and I turned out to be the only one who said yes?” Felix said, drawing the blanket in closer around him.

“I didn’t ask anyone else. I asked you because I knew you were the only one I could trust. The only one I wanted to come with me.”

This caught Felix’s attention. He opened and closed his mouth as if searching for something to say but came up short.

“So now you have to answer my question.” I turned towards him fully, “Why did you come with me?”

His mouth snapped shut and he looked away from me. I feared he may leave without giving me an answer but he stayed seated. An internal war dueling inside his mind as he mulled over what to tell me.

Finally he exhaled and searched my eyes. There was something softer about the way he gazed at me that had me holding my breath. When he spoke it was barely a whisper and had me leaning closer to hear.

“I came with you because...because I…” He swallowed, “I came with you because I didn’t want to be on Neverland without you. We never hung out but I was never ignorant of you. You brought so much life to those around you and I...”

“Felix,” I exhaled. I reached to touch him but he pulled away just as I did. He started to stand up but I grabbed the blanket around him halting his actions.

Felix stared down at me, eyes wide and panicked. He looked like a rabbit caught in a trap.

“Please don’t go!” I blurted out. “You don’t have to run from me.”

“What makes you think I’m running?” He asked, his voice low.

“What else would you call this?” I stood up as well. “It’s just us here, Felix. No one else can hear or see what we do. You don’t need to act tough and stoic for the sake of your reputation. I’ve already seen you dance around the kitchen while cooking soup. I think the masks can come off now.”

“I’m not wearing a mask, little girl.” He spat.

“Keep telling yourself that.” I turned to leave. Why had I said anything? I completely ruined any and all progress we had been making up to this point. If I thought he might have been distant before he was sure to keep away from me now. Stupid feelings and hormones making me say things I shouldn’t be saying!

“Wait!” Felix caught me at the staircase. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with this anymore and it must have been evident in my eyes as he turned me around to look at him. “Just wait a moment.”

“Felix, I’m tired in more ways than one. Just let me go.” I tried to shrug his arms off me.

“Please,” The word bled from his lips. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Felix say please in my life. “Please just give me a moment.”

“A moment for what?”

“To think.”

“Think of what?” I demanded. “Whatever it is you want to say just say it.”

“I--I--” He stammered. “Damn it,” he hissed before slamming his lips to mine.

The sheer force of the kiss nearly knocked me backwards. The ferocity of which he kissed me was hungry and passionate. Like he was drowning and looking for air. The blanket around me dropped to the floor as I clung onto him to keep balanced. My lips moved against his with similar excitement. My heart was hammering so loud in my chest it was all I could hear.

When the need for air became too much we pulled back. Felix rested his head against mine. Eyes screwed shut. I was still trying to wrap my mind around what had just happened when he cursed under his breath and shot past me on the stairs. The sound of a door slamming shut broke me out of my haze.

Felix kissed me.

Not a quick kiss either.

Felix kissed me like I had been dreaming about for the past several weeks. I tentatively touched my lips, savoring the memory of the way his mouth felt against mine. I quickly doused the fire in the living room and rushed up the stairs. I hovered outside of Felix’s door trying to find the courage to knock.

“I know you’re out there,” Felix’s muffled voice came from within startling me. “I suggest you save whatever you have to say and take it with you back to your own room.”

“Felix,” I sighed, “I think we need to talk about what happened on the stairs.”

“Forget about it.” He snapped, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I think you do. I think you know exactly what you were doing and that scares you more than if you were just reacting out of hormones.” I snapped back. “So how about you stop running and hiding from me and give me a straight answer for once!”

“I said to go away!”

“Fine!” I shouted, banging my fist against the door, “But you should know that I didn’t mind it at all you insufferable ass! I actually quite enjoyed it but, of course, you don’t care about that. Goodnight Felix.”

I stormed off back to my room and slammed the door shut behind me. I rolled into bed but sleep did not come easily. My feelings before were only more confused now after Felix had kissed me. How could he just kiss me after saying something unexpectedly sweet and then abandon me without a single word of explanation?

How is it even possible to like someone you hate so much?

~~~

Felix is a fucking idiot.

That’s it. That’s all it was. He was an idiot and he had proven that more than well enough tonight when he kissed you. Oh god above he actually broke and kissed you. He told you why he had been so willing to follow you away from Neverland and then he kissed you.

In the moment he couldn’t get the words he knew he owed you out. They were there scrambled in his brain but unable to get past his tongue. So he put his mouth to a better use.

He nearly moaned when he got a taste of you. Your breath was minty. Your lips so soft against his. He hadn’t meant to get so lost in it. But he finally had you in his arms and he didn’t want to let the sensation go.

Then you were kissing him back. Your hands tangled in his hair pulling him closer. Urging him on as he pressed your bodies together. He could have gone on forever kissing you if reality and common sense hadn’t come back to him in the moment you both were catching your breath.

He was supposed to be finding a way back to Neverland, not making out with you! But it felt so good to kiss you. You had been so perfect and warm in his arms. Thoughts of picking you up carrying you back to his room had entered his mind but were just as quickly dashed away. He couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not even by you.

You came pounding on his door yelling at him about his rude treatment towards you. Screaming about how you enjoyed the kiss as well. That almost had him running to unlock the door but the sound of your door slamming down the hall left him sat on the floor in frustration. How could he fix this? Was there anyway that he could? Would you even want anything to do with him after tonight?

Your words came back to him in that moment of contemplation. “It’s just us here, Felix. No one else can hear or see what we do.”

You were right. Of course you were right. No one else’s opinions mattered. There was no reputation to protect or people to disappoint here. He was not here for anyone to gossip about around a bonfire. It was just the two of you in this big mansion alone. There was no need to be embarrassed.

If only he had come to that realization before he shut you out for good.

There was one thing he could do to make this right. It could also backfire on him horribly but he’d rather try and fail then lose you forever because of one careless night. He would need electricity to do it but hopefully it would be back on in the morning. Restless but determined Felix crawled into bed. Plans of how to fix this mess so he could have your soft lips on his again dancing in his head.

---

(Previous) (Next)

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Covenant: Study Habits

Pogue Parry x Reader

Word Count: 2,095

Summary: You are stressing about finals and need to study. When Pogue graciously volunteers to be your study buddy, you don’t refuse the offer. 

Silence and solitude, you decided, were your ideal conditions for studying for finals. Spencer Academy was a fairly serious institution given its status as a prep school, but the library and various common areas tended to transform into social scenes, especially during this point in the semester. As much as you enjoyed the chatter and laughs, you really needed to study in order to pass your physics final and make the honor roll.

At first you tried moving your studying to your dorm, which was definitely quieter, but it didn’t exactly give off study vibes either. It was way too easy to take a nap or raid your snack stash or eavesdrop on conversations that were happening in the hallway.

You looked and looked for a good spot and you finally found it in the discovery of the school’s shop classroom. Not many students at Spencer took wood or metal shop that you were aware of and you were a little surprised those classes were offered at all. The room itself was tucked away in a dim basement that shared space with random storage rooms and an unused bomb shelter, a relic leftover from the 1940s.

The day you found it was also the day you found out that the room’s door wasn’t locked by the teacher, which wasn’t good from a security standpoint, but made entering very easy for you whenever you dropped by after hours to study.

Being a shop classroom, it was mostly open space and machinery, not unlike a garage situation. You were extra careful not to disturb any of the projects-in-progress, even though some of them looked really cool, and avoided all of the tools, most of which you couldn’t name much less identify.

But there were a couple of waist high counter tables along one wall so you could sit down. The height was just right where you could alternate between sitting on a stool and standing on your feet which was honestly better for your circulation. Most importantly, it was abandoned at this time of night and that meant no distractions.

The sneaking around continued for a couple of days until your anxiety had had enough, prompting you to find out the teacher’s information so that you could email them and ask formal permission to use the room when school wasn’t in session. Mr. Clarke seemed happy enough to let you use it and you decided you liked him even though you had never met in person.

It wasn’t even until the second week of studying down there that you finally saw someone other than yourself. You had just finished dinner and made the trek from the dorms to the shop room when you noticed them. A radio played softly in the distance but as you got closer and closer to your spot, you figured out that it was coming from the room.

You paused just outside the door and debated whether you should still go in or not; you really needed to get through some practice problems, but would you still be as productive if someone else was in there? You really should do these problems. Besides, maybe the other person would leave soon.

The metal handle clicked as you opened the door.

A small boombox was blaring some Green Day out of its speakers and figure in a black tee sat next to it fiddling with a hand drill.

Wanting to get his attention before the drill started up you cleared your throat loudly.

Beautiful hazel eyes locked onto you immediately and you felt a little breathless. That was before he turned fully around and you were better able to appreciate his toned chest and arms through the black fabric of his shirt, small barely detectable sawdust particles attached themselves to his jeans.

“Hey there,” he greeted with a raised hand.

Of all people to run into you couldn’t believe that it was Pogue Parry, one of, and in your opinion, the student body’s top eye candies. Dazzled, all you managed was a timid wave back.

He cocked his head, his shaggy hair falling slightly to the side. “I’ve never seen you before.”

Come on, Y/N. Get it together and answer the boy.

“Actually, we have—”

“Physics together,” he finished with a smile. “I know. I meant down here in the shop.”

Your face felt like it was on fire. He recognized you! A Son of Ipswich noticed that you were in a class with him and you were so excited that you managed to ignore the fact that you had misunderstood him. “You’re right about that. I’ve only been coming here for, like, a week. I got permission to study here.”

“Cool. Mr. Clarke is a sweetheart so I’m not surprised.”

Trying to get back on track you asked, “How long do you think you’ll be working on that?”

Both of you looked at the drill.

“You probably want it quiet, huh? I can stop for today, this is just a side project I’m doing anyway, it’s gonna be a tv stand when it’s done. Definitely not as important as a final.”

As much as you felt bad for interrupting him and essentially taking over his spot, you took him up on his offer. He was now the hottest and kindest classmate in your mind. You dropped you backpack on the floor and spread your papers across the countertop trying your best to sneak peeks at Pogue where he was cleaning up a few feet away.

When he finished, he walked over. “What class are you studying for?”

“Physics.”

“No way!” He pulled up a stool and straddled it opposite of you.

It made you nervous to have him watch you write and when he pointed out a mistake you made, you felt like crawling into a hole. The eraser left behind eraser shavings as you corrected the error.

“Hey, wanna work together?” he asked either not noticing your embarrassment or choosing to ignore it.

“Sure,” you said with a shaky voice.

“Cool.”

He wasted no time and grabbed his own copy of the packet, clicking open a pen, ready to go.

You moved to the next problem and read it out loud.

“A block weighing 200 N is pushed along a surface. If it takes 80 N to get the block moving and 40 N to keep the block moving at a constant velocity, what are the coefficients of friction μs and μk?”

Pogue hunched over, quickly working it out when he noticed you sitting still, rubbing the end of your pencil against your mouth. Scooching over to your side of the counter he showed you his work and walked you through his steps.

“Wow, you’re really good at this.”

He laughed off the compliment. “Nah, I promise you I’m a pretty stupid student.”

“But you finished this problem in under a minute,” you insisted. “Meanwhile, I would’ve been stuck for hours and still have gotten it wrong.”

He stared at you and even though you couldn’t get a good read on him, it was too easy to get lost in his eyes. Eventually, he spoke.

“I don’t want to throw off your groove of anything, but maybe we can study together.”

Was this a dream? Because an invitation like that only happened in your fantasies.

“But I don’t know how that benefits you—you seem to a good handle on it already,” you admitted.

“As I told you, stupid student. Besides, my study habits are non-existent so maybe some of yours will rub off.”

You beamed at him, easily convinced. “Well then let’s go over the first problem again because I’m still confused...”

Every night for the next seven days Pogue met you in the basement and walked with you to the classroom for your study session. Despite not having a high opinion towards his academic abilities, he was very patient and effective tutor/partner.

“Wait, remember to multiply the variables in the parenthesis before subtracting it from the total. PEMAS is your friend Y/N.”

He was also very easy to talk to. Whenever he talked about his bike or swim regimen, two things you knew nothing about, he took the time to put it into words you understood without making you feel like an idiot. And when you were feeling chatty, he would actively take an interest in what you had to say.

“Hunger pains after a swim workout are the worst, especially after long swims where your aerobic systems are gassed. It feels like you’re one stomach growl away from wasting away.”

“Oh, speaking of food, I found a granola recipe. I don’t know who decide to mix coconut and cranberries with granola, but that palate combination amazing. I’ll bring you some if it turns out alright.”

“You’d better save me some then, even if it’s not to your ridiculously high standards. I can feed some to the boys, too.”

Time flew by and it didn’t feel like the studying had gone on for a whole week. Each session seemed to pass faster as you got to know him better, to see the him that didn’t have to be filtered for the public eye. You liked this side of him even better than what you have seen of him in class and in the halls.

But all things come to an end. On the last session before the final, you guys finally finished the last question in the review packet with a grateful exhale.

“You sir, are a physics godsend. I can’t believe we’re done with the whole review guide.”

“I hope the final isn’t as long as the guide is. He must’ve stuck every problem we did during the semester in this thing,” he complained.

“I really hope not,” you groaned. Because if it was, there was no way you would finished within the allotted one-hour period.

“But, I have a feeling you’re going to crush the exam. Just try your best not the set the curve too high, for the rest of our sakes.”

You playfully shoved him for the last part of his comment. Silence stretched on and you realized that this was the last time you guys were scheduled to study together. Fast on the heels of that thought was another: you didn’t want to leave. By the way he didn’t seem in a hurry to leave, you hoped that meant he was reluctant as well.

“So…” he trailed off and you waited with bated breath. “Guess we should pack up, it’s almost nine.”

Your shoulders slumped in disappointment at his words. “Yeah, I guess.”

For a second, you were tempted to ask him out, or at least see if he wanted to hang out as friends, but you decided against it. He was the type that would’ve spoken up if he were interested. Best just to act dignified and be thankful that he bothered helping you in the first place.

You were steps away from walking out the door when he stopped you by grabbing your hand.

“Actually, what I meant to ask is if you want to get a bite to eat after the test tomorrow. Is that weird?”

Your pulse fluttered in obvious joy.

“You mean like a date?” you breathed.

“Yeah. You’re a pretty cool, Y/N, and I’d be sad if this is the last time we hang out.”

“I would love to,” you assured him with a huge smile on your face.

He reached to slowly envelope you in a hug, and even if the angle was a little awkward due to the backpacks being in the way, you automatically hugged back. You were thrilled to discover that he smelled like an exotic mix of leather and, dare you say, magic.

You were even more thrilled when he walked you back to the dorms like the sweet boy you had observed him to be over the past week. Luckily there weren’t any people loitering out in the hallway because if word got out that a Son of Ipswich had walked you to your room, the whole school would know by morning and you were enjoying the moment far too much to have to worry about that.

“Good luck tomorrow. See you on the flip side,” he said in parting.

That night you laid in bed but felt like you were on cloud nine. In less than twenty-four hours, you would be done with physics for the semester and have had a date with Pogue Parry. Pogue Parry! You snuggled into your pillow and swore his scent still lingered freshly in your nose.

_______________

I was super inspired yesterday and wrote this. Good luck to everyone that’s prepping for final exams! Thanks for reading.