#here’s my wallet I won’t accept a no

[maybege]

my next piece will be a suger daddy!paz one where he takes you to a giant mall and just buys you everything you really want

[gloomwitchwrites]

I absolutely love your stories they’re so amazing! Can I please request the task force and pranking them by telling them a guy did your Brazilian wax

Thank you! I can't take all the credit. I might be the writer, but the Imagines Series couldn't be what it is without all the amazing ideas people have submitted. I'm honestly blown away by the amount of creativity and ideas sent my way. My inbox is full of wonderful requests, and while it's going to take me a bit to get to them all, I'm eager to complete them!

The amount of prank requests I've been getting has been so fun. Not just this one, but telling mom to shut up, and the premium air prank, etc. All of these make me giggle and have been a blast to work on. Thank you so much for sending this in!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, established relationship, pranks, non-descriptive nudity

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John briefly licks the pad of his thumb before counting out the appropriate amount of pound notes.

“This enough?” he asks, presenting it to you.

It’s more than enough. “Plenty. Thank you, John.”

He leans forward a bit, and you eagerly greet him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. Drawing back, you give him your best smile. But beneath the grin is a trick.

You want to mess with him a bit.

“I have a new waxer,” you shrug, adding the cash to your wallet. “Cheryl put in her notice.”

Cheryl did not put in her notice. That woman probably won’t retire until she dies.

John inclines his head, already turning away. “That’s too bad. You liked her.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, grabbing your purse. “They’ve put me with someone new. A Mark? Mike? No—Marcus? I think.”

John freezes. He slowly turns back, cheeks bright red. “What?”

“It starts with an ‘m’,” you muse.

“Your new waxer is a man?”

“Yes,” you shrug. “And?” John’s face resembles a beet. “Everything good?”

“Where does Cherly work now?”

“John—”

He grabs his phone from his pocket and starts tapping away at it. "I want to know if she accepts walk-ins."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle's hand slowly runs over your newly waxed skin. "Look at you. So soft and smooth." His touch makes you shiver.

"You paid for it," you murmur.

"I did," smiles Kyle, head dipping.

His tongue makes contact, and you release a moan. It’s slightly distracting, but not enough to detract from you poking at him.

“Had a new waxer,” you sigh as Kyle goes in for another taste.

“Did you?” he asks absently, more interested in your new smoothness.

“A man, actually. Undergoing training. There were two of them in the room.”

Kyle's head snaps up. "What?"

"Why'd you stop?" you whimper.

"There were two men that waxed you?"

“No, Kyle. Just one.”

A series of emotions pass over Kyle's face. His mouth opens. Closes. And then his hand forms a fist, fingers flexing and relaxing as he mulls over something.

"Everything okay?" you ask, suddenly worried.

“Can’t be that hard.” Kyle pushes away from the couch and reaches for his phone. “Or expensive.”

“What can’t? Kyle. What are you talking about?”

You lean forward and see him adding a waxing kit to his online shopping cart.

“No,” you say firmly. “You’re not putting hot wax anywhere near my vagina.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

"Oh, what's this?"

Johnny's hands are on your thighs and then beneath your skirt in a moment.

"Johnny!"

"Is this for me? You don't have to. You know I like a good adventure through the woods."

"Johnny!" you say again, slapping his arm playfully as his fingers lightly squeeze, making your squirm in his grasp.

"Was this on my dime?" he asks.

"Maybe."

"Oh, aye. Am I gonna find an unknown charge?"

"With a tip. A large tip. My waxer deserved it. He did a good job."

"Oh, they—he?"

"Yes. That a problem?"

Johnny's hands don't retreat but he's staring at you—hard. You arch an eyebrow and he finally speaks. "Your waxer is a man?"

No.

"Yes."

Johnny nods and then he leans in, lowering his voice. “You’re taking the piss.”

“I’m—”

“I saw your location. I checked it out. They don’t have a single male employee in that place.”

Your face grows hot.

Johnny’s hands squeeze a bit harder, and then he lands a brief smack against the curve of your ass. “Lying to me, love?” Johnny tsks. He palms the curve of your ass where it stings. “Suppose I should punish you.”

“Maybe you should.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You reject the call and clutch your phone to your chest. You've messed up. Royally. Pranking Simon is always a terrible idea.

The texts were just a tease. Just a way to push Simon’s buttons.

I have a new waxer.

I thought it would be one of the other ladies.

But no!

It was a guy!

Your phone buzzes again and you nearly throw it across the room. It’s Simon. You decline the call. Everything is quiet for a few brief seconds before a text message from him comes through.

Answer your phone.

You click out a reply.

I'm in the car!

His reply comes instantly.

You're at home. I know your location.

Another incoming call. This one you answer.

"Simon,” you say flatly.

"What location did you go to?" he asks, voice rough with tension.

"Why?" you counter.

"What's his name?" he snaps.

"I know what you're doing, Simon.”

You always forget just how deep his possessive streak goes.

Silence. Then, "I just want to talk."

"Simon.”

He growls your name in warning.

"You don't need to go there. Just...come home. You can see the results for yourself."

He sighs. "I'll be there in ten. Be ready for me."

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @cherryofdeath @ferns-fics

@tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus @no-oneelsebutnsu

@marispunk @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307 @itsberrydreemurstuff

@cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic @sammysinger04

@kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld @umno-yeah

@daemondoll @jackrabbitem @lxblm @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez

@ash-tarte @enarien @gingergirl06 @greeniegreengreen @certainlygay

[fcthots]

“I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.” with protective upset and slightly unhinged jason would be so so good oh my god. like if something bad happens to reader and he has to get violent to defend her… yeah.

-🧸

You were on you way home, out later than you should have been, but your friend needed moral support after a breakup and you lost track of time.

Unfortunately while both you & Jason's apartment and your friend's were just off the edge of crime alley, your friend's apartment was on the opposite end of you and Jason. All of this is to say, unless you wanted to be out after midnight, you had to pass through crime alley after dark. It was just a five minute walk there, when daylight spared you of most of the dangers of Gotham, but it was pitch black now. You should have driven, but at the time it didn’t seem necessary.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You walked as fast as possible.

You didn’t even have a purse on you. Your phone was in the leather jacket Jason had bought you as a present and you had 20 dollars stuffed somewhere in your pant pockets.

Were you supposed to turn left here? Yeah, you recognize that streetlamp.

You would call Jason, but your phone is fucking dead and it's not like you were gonna ask your crying friend for a charger. And you didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you stepped outside with no way to get back into your friends apartment.

You were in the home stretch, just in the outskirts of crime alley. Almost freedom.

Never let it be said that you were lucky. All of your luck was used getting your hot ass boyfriend. Luck gone.

The man had a knife and was screaming for your wallet. Your wallet that you did not bring with you.

"Give me the wallet or I'm gonna spill your guts on the fucking ground!"

Just because your boyfriend was scary looking, did not mean you were used to scary men, especially ones that yelled at you. Your hands shook and you weren't sure what to do.

"I don’t have it. All I have is 20 dollars, please."

"That's a fucking lie. I see your jacket. I know that shit is expensive. Lie to me again and I'll slit your throat."

Fuck. If you had to guess, it would be Jason that would find your body. You didn’t want it to be Jason. He wouldn't be able to handle seeing your lifeless eyes. You know what it's like to look into your soulmates lifeless eyes and realize they're gone forever; you were hoping Jason would never have to experience that.

"It's-"

"Tough luck... I guess I could accept other forms of payment."

He bares his teeth in a grin as he sees the look on your face.

"Unless you'd prefer that no one ever finds your body?"

You're really glad you told Jason you loved him before he left for patrol.

The man starts getting closer to you. You can't talk, can't scream, can't think. You were gonna die alone.

You think you mumble out a 'please' before your back hits the wall. His knife was to your throat, but all you could think about was Jason.

There was a bang that you didn’t fully register. Before you could think twice about it, your mugger was on the ground. You didn’t move. You stayed, frozen, silent tears running down your cheeks.

"Shh, it's ok. You're ok. It's me."

You finally focused your eyes and saw the white lenses staring at you, his arms in the air.

You babbled nonsense. You couldn't breathe.

You tried to back away from the man on the floor, but you almost fell. You swore your legs were going to give out. Jason was at your side in less than a second. He lifted you over the bleeding body on the ground, supported your weight as your knees buckled.

He tucked your face into the crook of his neck and you choked on air.

"I've got you. Match my breaths, ok? Good. You're doing great. You're ok, I promise."

All you could manage to get out was his name.

"'M right here. Just breathe. Focus on that for me." His hand cradled the base of your neck.

Eventually you stopped crying. Eventually you could breathe again. Eventually Jason led your face away from his neck to look at you. Your whole body shook. You watched as he drew his hand up to his helmet and heard this hiss and click and he took it off. He took your jaw in one of his hands.

He wiped the splattered blood and tears off your cheeks with a gloved hand, traced the trail of fresh blood and broken skin on your neck from where the knife was pressed against you. “I swear to you, that as long as I’m alive I won’t let a single soul ever harm you.”

You looked into his eyes as they flashed an inhuman green, and you believed him.

Bonus:

"Wait, Jay. Did you just happen to stumble across me?"

"There...may or may not be a tracker in the jacket I bought you... You were in one place for too long."

"I hate that that makes me feel safer."

He smiles apologetically. "I love you."

"I love you too."

[gi4hao]

☆ dino x gn!reader — domestic fluff!

☆ from repairing a sink to love confessions on the kitchen floor

9pm is right around the corner, and you know for a fact that your boyfriend is far from being done with repairing the leak under your kitchen sink. but of course he won’t accept defeat, which is why you resorted to having dinner on the floor, sat next to him to keep him company.

“you really should go lie down on the couch” chan tells you from beneath the sink, his voice muffled and punctuated by the clinks of his tools. “this isn’t good for your back.”

he’s not wrong, this position is definitely not the comfiest even though you managed to rest against a piece of furniture. but the view isn’t so bad here, you think to yourself, contently watching his arms flex as he twists and tightens metal pieces here and there.

“but if i leave who’s going to feed you those baby tomatoes?” you ask, looking at the half-eaten bowl in front of you.

putting his tools down, he emerges from under the sink with a contented sigh, stretching his limbs as he sits upright. “you’re such a simp” he chuckles, yet still gladly opens his mouth for you to throw yet another tomato inside.

with an exaggerated scoff, you put a hand over your heart in mock offense: “excuse me? says the biggest simp ever?”

the thing is, you don’t even mind being called a simp; you’re lucid enough to know that it’s only the truth. similarly, chan doesn’t mind it either, but it’s just so much more entertaining to deny and act like it offends him.

“if there’s a simp in this room it’s definitely you. and allow me to tell you why…” you tell him as he returns to the small confined space below your countertop.

you don’t even have to make an effort to gather your thoughts, countless examples just flow naturally into your brain: “first of all, you always carry me on your back when we’re walking back home from a party. you kiss me goodbye every morning even when i’m still asleep. you have a picture of me in your wallet, i’m your phone and ipad wallpaper. also, you keep a secret box on your side of the closet where you put all the receipts from our dates…”

a few seconds of silence follow your words.

when you lean to your side to finally catch a glimpse of your quiet boyfriend, it turns out he’s looking right back at you, a surprised expression painted on his face: “i didn’t know you knew about the box.”

suddenly, he gets the funny sensation that you’re definitely going to win this round.

“i know many things” you affirm, a satisfied smile on your lips as you keep going: “i know that you always keep one of my doodles in your phone case. i know that you bought duplicates of my skincare products to keep in your car as an emergency kit. and i also may or may not have heard you talk to seungkwan about me…”

this time, it’s a loud bang that comes to punctuate your sentence. but before you can even start to worry, chan yells a reassuring “i’m okay!” before getting out of there once again, “just dropped my tool, that’s all. but now let’s circle back to what you just said…”

with a chuckle, you notice a slight embarrassment spreading on his face, his cheeks turning a familiar shade of pink.

your relationship has never been a secret, so it wasn’t a surprise to know that he likely spoke about you to the other members. however, you hadn’t truly considered the nature of those conversations until a few months ago, when you had sort of eavesdropped on a discussion.

“don’t be embarrassed” you reassure him, a playful spark in your eyes: “it was nice to hear you describe us as a “perfect match” and feeling like “a married couple already, but in the best possible way”.

at this point, his surrender is palpable. “okay, you win. maybe i am a simp,” he concedes, a mixture of defeat and self-consciousness coloring his voice. his shoulders sag slightly, but his gaze is still full of affection. “i can’t deny it anymore. just like i can’t deny that I’m not a handyman. i actually have no idea if I’m fixing this thing or just making it worse.”

“i think it’s time to leave the plumbing to the experts,” you tease, taking the screwdriver out of his hands, “let’s bail on this floor and go cuddle on the couch; i’ll order some proper food.”

with just those words, he flashes you a bright smile, one that you know so well you could sketch it from memory. as he rises to his feet, he looks at you earnestly: “i meant what i said to seungkwan, you know,” he confesses, his voice softer than usual.

you take a brief moment to let his words and his sincerity sink in: “i know, baby,” you reply, your own voice matching his softness as you grab his hand to get up. “and that’s exactly how i feel too.”

his smile grows even bigger, relieved to see that you not only understand the depth of his love for you, but reflect it back to him as well. it’s all he’s ever hoped for, really — to find someone he could trust implicitly, someone he could pour all his love into, knowing it would be returned with the same intensity.

“we really are made for each other,” he states, giving you a proud nod as he pulls you close, arms wrapped around your waist.

“yeah, look at us. in love, both clueless about fixing that sink. perfect match.”

with a heartfelt laugh, chan gently rests his hand on your neck, pulling you closer for a kiss; the kind that lingers for a few more seconds than what you expected. just enough time for the both of you to think about how lucky you are to have found each other in this lifetime.

requests are open!

[kissitbttr]

i absolutely love u and ur work sm 😖 miggy being drunk but loyal 🥲 like reader is going to take him home after a night out and he’s like “back off i’m taken” or something along those lines ☹️☹️

omg he so would!! i’ll use this one for the married miguel i have going on!

-

it’s good to finally see miguel letting loose for once. her poor baby had been dwelling on work and stress that her heart couldn’t take it anymore. she could see it’s starting to get to him, but miguel being miguel, he always puts on the unbothered facade. unluckily for him, she could see right through her husband

so she proposed that him and the rest of the team to have a night out, miles and gwen are excluded.

miguel despises clubs, they’re pointless and reckless. music’s good. not worth the crowd though.

but since peter, jess, and her teamed up against him, he had no saying in that.

“you need to lay off my man a little, jess. poor baby has been working too hard” she points out, sipping on her lychee martini,

jess cocks an eyebrow. “i tried to! he’s the one who didn’t want to”

“you know how he is, y/n” peter chimes, “he won’t listen to any of us except you”

“yeah” she smiles, staring down at her ring finger. “sounds like him”

“where is he by the way? i need to get home soon. MJ would kick my ass if i’m even 5 minutes late” peter sighs, pulling out his wallet to put some bills,

she stops him with a hand gesture. “don’t. it’s on me.”

“girl, you sure?” jess asks,

“i make as much money as my husband. of course, i’m sure” she laughs, finishing her drink. “you two get home. me and miggy are going home too anyway”

jess fakes a gag. “i still have to get used to you calling him that. gross”

she laughs again, three of them standing up from the table before giving each other a hug, thanking them for coming.

soon as they left, she gathers her things before walking towards the bar where her husband is at. she smiles upon seeing his large back facing her, hunching slightly as he finished up the last drink of his.

it’s so easy to spot him,

“alright big boy, it’s close to one. let’s call it a night, yeah?” she appears by his side, hand on his shoulder,

to her surprise, he shrugs it off making her frown. avoiding her gaze before scooting away,

“miguel wha—“

“back off, i’ve got a wife. and i would appreciate it if you leave”

her heart soars,

the frown turns into a pleased expression, she crosses her arms with a playful smile. “oh really? she pretty?”

“gorgeous” he corrects her. “and the best damn thing i’ve ever had so please” his hand shoo her away. “i’m a man. i don’t cheat”

the heat blossoms in her chest when he does so. a frown forms on his handsome face, showing her that he isn’t playing around,

oh he’s drunk, drunk

“okay well, i happen to know your wife, actually. and i am very sorry but i mean no disrespect, I didn’t know you’re married” she plays along, watching him him but a stoic expression remains on his face,

“want me to get her?”

his face lights up at that, turning around to face her before nodding with a smile,

“yes please! that would be great. i miss her”

she awes at that, who knew her husband could be such a huge softie?

“okay, be right back” she responds before walking away only to reappear back to his left side, fronting a wide grin,

“baby! how you doing?!”

miguel eyes light up once more, mirroring his wife’s smile before his hands reach out to her, arms wide open to invite her to a hug,

“my love! mi corazón ! beautiful beautiful querida! i am so happy you are here!” he sighs dreamily,

she giggles at his cute demeanor, accepting his embrace as he pulls her in, arms wrapped around her waist.

“there was this girl who wanted to take me home and I completely told her off because i said, ‘my wife! is here with me and i would appreciate it if you fuck off!’ “

she holds back a laugh at how silly and sassy he is putting on his scowl expression,

“really? well good riddance! she should’ve known better!” she pulls away and cradle his cheeks in between her hands, feeling him lean against her palm,

he nods, circling his hands around her wrists. “mi corazón te pertenece, ahora y para siempre. got you this far, didn’t i?”

if her heart could burst, it would in that moment. even in his drunken state, he still manages to front a lovesick gaze everytime he looks at her. to speak like a true poet and aim for her heart just like that,

she nods back, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. “yes, baby. yes you did”

-

I WANT HIM SO BAD YALL I CANT

[turcott3]

pov

juraj slafkovský x fem! reader

warnings?: angst, sadness, unprotected sex, p in v, and fluff

positions fics masterlist

~oh, ‘cause nobody ever loved me like you do, i’d love to see me from your point of view~

-

you sat on the edge of the bed and stared down at your bare nails. one of the wives invited you to go with all of them to get your nails done, to which you hesitantly said yes. though it wasn’t exactly in your budget, you still agreed to go and bond with them.

“so what are your plans today baby?” juraj asks stepping out of the bathroom, brushing his teeth.

“the girls invited me to go get my nails done, i’m going but i won’t get anything i haven’t gotten paid yet.” you say making broken eye contact with the boy.

“one second.” he says re-entering the bathroom so finish brushing his teeth before exiting the bedroom. in your previous relationship, your boyfriend never helped you. he would poke and tease at things that weren’t funny, comment on your body and you weight, tell you how to act and went so far as to hit you from time to time. truth be told, getting back into a relationship scared you because you thought all those things would happen once again no matter who you were with. the last 4 months with juraj had been hard for you. he made you happy and was always kind but the voice in the back of your head always told you to keep him at arms length, no matter your label.

“here, take my card and get whatever you want.” he said re-entering the room, holding his card out for you to take.

“are you sure?” you replied softly.

“yes baby, get whatever you want. it’s on me i promise.” he says again, shutting his wallet and tossing it on his nightstand.

“thank you.”

“of course, i don’t want you to sit there and be left out.” he says kissing you on the head while he collected his clean clothes off the bed next to you. the way he made your heart dance was an all new feeling to you. every time he touched you it was like a butterfly sanctuary busted loose in your abdomen, every time he spoke highly of you, you felt like it wasn’t real.

“i better go, i don’t wanna be late.” you say checking the clock and standing up off the bed, grabbing your purse from the dresser.

“have fun, text me when you get there safe.” he calls from the room as you exit the apartment.

-

“so how’s everything with slaf?” arber’s girlfriend asks.

“oh he’s been great, he’s such a sweetheart.”

“he is, me and arber are very glad he has someone to love. he has such a big heart he deserves someone as beautiful as you.” she smiles at you.

“awe thank you steph.” you smile lightly, not being able to even accept the compliment in your mind. you’d never felt beautiful, you felt cute from time to time, but never beautiful. after two long hours, you were finally able to leave which relieved you. you didn’t feel like you fit in. all the wives and girlfriends were so beautiful and kind and radiant. none of those things fit you, or so you thought. you entered your apartment to see slaf still in bed watching tv.

“i’m home.” you say catching his attention. he gets up and shuffles into the entryway.

“let me see let me see.” he says asking to see your nails. you picked a simple red design on nude nails, considering it was now february it felt right.

“do you like?” you ask.

“they’re gorgeous. i love them.” he smiles widely at you kissing your hands before placing two gentle fingers under your chin pressing a short kiss to your lips, which you gladly accepted.

“thank you.” you blush, a full smile never cracking your face.

“what’s wrong?” he says noticing your shift in demeanor.

“it’s nothing.” you say pushing past him to enter the bedroom, grabbing your pajamas.

“it’s not nothing.” he says following hot on your heels.

“j, it’s fine.”

“baby tell me.” he says grabbing onto your biceps and pulling you closer.

“i don’t deserve you.”

“what do you mean?” he says, a look of confusion taking over.

“all the other girlfriends and wives, they’re so beautiful and funny and kind, i don’t feel like i fit in with them. it’s like they always are put together, have money, happiness and like they just do everything so effortlessly.” you say, failing to hold back the waterfall behind your eyes.

“no my love.” he says wrapping you up in his arms tightly, rocking you back and forth.

“i don’t deserve you.” you repeat.

“you deserve more than me actually. i feel every emotion you feel everyday. i know you’re scared, i know you don’t feel any of these things about yourself but you don’t see yourself from my point of view.” he states.

“what?”

“you’re so gorgeous and sweet and smart and thoughtful. you make everyday so much brighter for me. i was so lonely when i first came to montreal and you’ve flipped my world upside down. you make everything better y/n.” he says and all you can do it cry. you have no response.

“i don’t know what to say j.”

“you don’t need to say anything, let’s run us a shower and get into our pajamas for a movie night okay?”

“okay.” you simply replied smiling lightly. the two of you stepped into the bathroom, him turning the knob of the shower to warm. you slowly stripped down, suddenly feeling very aware of your body. you hugged yourself hiding your chest and stomach while slaf stripped down in front of you. he finally looks up at you, eyes showing the sadness he felt at you stance.

“stop hiding, you’re beautiful.” he says pulling your arms away from your body. he reaches into the shower to feel the water finally warm. he steps in, lending you a hand in assistance. he pulls you under the water with him as you laid your head on his chest and arms wrapped around his waist. his hands wandering their way down your back, landing firmly on your ass.

“juraj?”

“yes?” he replies as the two of you lock eyes. you say nothing and simply reach a hand to the back of his neck pulling his lips to yours anxiously. his hands moved up your back as he pulled you impossibly closer to him. you pulled away, placing your hands on his chest as your body is flush against his. the look in his eyes read far more than lust.

“let me love you y/n.” he says, running a delicate thumb across your cheekbone, his eyes locked on yours. your hand found his way on top of his as you smiled.

“i will.” you reply quietly. he reattaches your lips hastily, giving you a light tap on the ass. you jump, latching your legs around his hips, not once losing contact. the sexual tension in the room rising quickly. lifting your hips, he pushes himself inside you, burying his face in your neck. you moan out in pleasure as his tip hit the sweet spot deep inside you. he used his arms to guide you as you moved up and down on his dick at a consistent pace, losing your breath quickly. you wrapped your arms around his neck placing your head in his shoulder, trying not to deafen the brunette with your moans. at this rate it wouldn’t take you long to finish. noticing you clenching around him, he picks up his pace.

“so beautiful y/n.” he says breathlessly as you slap a hand on the wall for better stability as your skin slapped against each other. he made you feel things you’d never experienced. your eyes squeeze shut as you begin to see stars, knowing you were nearing your witts end. you feel all of your muscles relax suddenly, your legs becoming shaky at the sensation as he buries his own climax deep inside you. the two of you slowly come to a stop, him not placing you back on the ground just yet. you lift your head off his shoulder dazily and he kisses you lovingly.

“that was amazing.” you giggle, pulling him out of you.

“yeah it was.” he laughs setting you back down.

“i love you so much.” he simply says causing your heart to flutter.

“i love you too slaf.” you smile finally grabbing some kind of soap.

“might as well make use of the shower.” you giggle, pouring shampoo into both of your hands. once the two of you are out of the shower and changed you’re found nowhere other than your bed, wrapped up in each other.

“so how do you feel now?” he asks, his thumb lightly stroking your side.

“i feel a little better.” you say.

“how so?” he pries.

“i feel beautiful and i feel wanted.”

“that’s because both are true my love. if you ever don’t feel okay please come to me. i’m here for you always.”

“okay.” you say, fighting sleep to the sound of his rhythmic heartbeat.

-

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 6

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

You sleep sitting up. Aside from the stiffness in your muscles, your stomach is gurgling from the greasy meal. The night fraught with worry and restlessness leaves your head even more cloudy than before. It’s real, you know it, and yet you just don’t want to accept it. 

The doctor comes after 8am. He checks your father’s vital and makes some notes on his chart. Andy asks about his condition as you can’t bring yourself to speak. He looks ragged and tired, you must not come off any better. 

“We’ll have to wait until he’s stable to make any further determination. We’ll need to test his cognizance along with his physical capabilities. The injury like has caused a TBI, meaning the effects will vary. He’ll need to be monitored well beyond his time here,” the doctor explains as Andy listens intently. You cling to every word but your mind is reeling. “Best to discuss what sort of therapies would be covered by insurance.” 

“Yeah, I figured,” Andy says, “thanks, doctor.” 

“Of course. You did a good job getting him here quickly,” the man in the white coat pauses and sends you definitive look, “keeping pressure on him. You both saved his life.” 

Your eyes sting and your nose burns. You can't cry. Not yet. Once you crack, you know that’s it. You won’t be able to stop. Your cheeks tug and you thank him, swallowing down the swell of horror.  

“Andy,” you eke out as the doctor leaves, “I couldn’t get through to my mom. Do you mind if I try again?” 

“Hm, I haven’t charged my phone,” he slides his cell from his pocket, “I’m at twelve percent. Could do the trick.” 

“Oh, maybe I could ask the nurse’s desk. I think I saw a patient phone around here.” 

“Good idea,” he nods. “I texted Jacob but I don’t think he has service up there. We’ll need to go grab some clothes so how about we do that today?” 

“I... I can’t leave my dad,” you insist. 

“Sweetheart, they said he’s going to be out for some time.” 

“He shouldn’t wake up alone,” you argue. 

“Alright,” he shows his palm appeasingly, “I’ll drive up, grab your stuff, and we’ll get everything else sorted when I get back.” 

“I can do this,” you avow, as much to yourself as him, “you’ve done enough.” 

“Right, I know, you’re a strong girl. But what do you do next? Once you talk to mom. You gotta call insurance, right? Do you have what they need? You’ll need the plan number, that’s probably in his wallet, right? You’ll at least need proof of ID. We brought him in in his trunks and nothing else. All that’s up at the cottage,” he shakes his head, “I don’t doubt you can handle it but a little help can’t hurt.” 

Your eyes widen and you sigh. You drag your hands down your cheek, “yeah...” 

“You can’t think of it all right now. That’s expected. You should worry about him. So I’ll deal with the details.” 

“Andy,” you utter, “I...” you look at your dad and get up, shuffling to his bedside. You take his hand, careful not to tug the tubes and tape, “I owe you.” 

“It’s what people do for each other, right? I’m a dad too. I know if anything happened to me, Jacob would be lost.” 

“Uh, yeah, yeah,” you crackle from your dry throat. 

“Try to rest if you can,” he sniffs and scratches his beard, “I’ll be quick. As quick as possible.” 

“Sure,” you squeeze your dad’s hand, barely hearing Andy. You just want him to wake up, or maybe you can wake up from this nightmare. 

🌅

You force yourself out of the room to ask the nurse about a phone. She points you towards a worn phone down a few halls meant for emergency calls. You punch in your mom’s number and wait for it to dial. It takes six tries for her to answer but you won’t give up this time. 

“Hey, what’s up?” She answers casually. 

You don’t answer right away. You can hear the lightness in her voice and the rustle of unknown movement. She’s busy with something or someone. Probably her latest fling. 

“Mom,” you scratch out, “it’s dad.” 

“What is it now? Tell me he’s not drank himself into the tank again. He’s too old for that.” 

“Mom,” you say firmer than before, “mom, he’s hurt.” 

“Hurt. Well, call the paramedics, I don’t know,” she giggles and you sigh. 

“We’re at the hospital,” you raise your voice, “he’s... he’s not awake. He hit his head. And I... I’m scared.” 

She’s silent. You hear her move around and she excuses herself. A door clicks on her end and she scoffs, “well, what do you want me to do about it? He’s your father.” 

You’re stunned by her callous response. 

“And I’m your daughter,” you insist, “what... you should...” you shake your head and deflate. “Well, mom,” your voice cracks, “I’m sorry I interrupted fun for something so stupid as this.” 

“Honey, please, I’m a bit shocked is all,” she squeaks, “I mean what can I do from so far away. For my ex-husband of all people? You’re an adult. You need to learn how to handle these things.” 

“Gee, thanks, mom,” you sneer and slam the phone on the hook. 

You don’t know why you expected any different. You’re not at her house because she told you plainly that she didn’t want you spoiling her fun. She gave up trying to be a parent the minute you turned eighteen. 

You roll your eyes back against a new wave of tears; these one angry. You guess you just need to grow up. It’s your turn to take care of your dad. 

[verstappentime]

lots of people asking for the first part of this bit of my divorce 'verse, so here it is <3 (recap: max retired from racing after his injury in silverstone was much worse than irl, he and daniel are no longer together)

Charles hasn’t spoken to him much since the breakup. They largely don’t look at each other in press conferences and driver’s parades. He doesn’t know what Max’s version of events is, what he’s told their friends. He has to let himself be happy Max is talking to anyone. Has to accept it, even if it means losing other people.

So when Charles calls, he knows it’s nothing good.

“Uh, let me get this,” he tells Scotty. Scotty rolls his eyes. He’d just been about to lecture Daniel about putting himself out there again.

“Hi, Daniel,” Charles says. He sounds strained, off.

“Hi?” Daniel shrugs at Scotty, I don’t know.

“I’m here with Max. He’s– he was fine before, maybe he was pretending, I don’t know. But he’s having one of his headaches, the bad ones?”

“Like a migraine?”

“Yes, that. Sorry. He’s scaring me. He’s– very sick and his eyes look weird and he won’t talk to me.”

Daniel swallows. This is not his responsibility anymore. This is not his responsibility anymore. “Can you ask him to rate his pain? Like, out of ten? He should be able to hold up his fingers if he can’t talk.”

There’s murmuring Daniel can’t make out. Then, “He says seven?” So, like, nine, minimum, if you’re a normal person.

“Does he need to go to the hospital?” Across from him, Scotty looks increasingly alarmed. Daniel waves a hand at him.

Charles says, “I asked him, but he told me to fuck off.”

Daniel pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay. There’s a number for his neurologist in his phone, okay? So if he starts slurring his words or anything extra weird, call that number. It’s normal for him to have a little trouble talking, but you’ll know the difference. Dr. Monroe. Do you have that?”

“Is that going to happen?”

“Charles. Do you understand.” Daniel can’t fucking do this. He fishes in his wallet, phone balanced on his ear, slaps down fifty euros in front of Scotty and stands up. He mouths ‘I’ll call you.’ Scotty points at his food, and Daniel whispers, “Eat it, I have to go.”

Charles says, “Yes, I understand.”

“Okay. Good. Can you ask him if he has his meds?”

Charles covers the speaker, muffled. “Max, do you have your medicine?” Max must shake his head. “He says no.”

Daniel curses, rubbing his eyes. Fucking hell. “Okay. Just– keep him comfortable, as best you can. No lights. If you have a sleep mask or something it might help. Get him something with sugar to drink.” He fumbles with his car keys until he can get a proper grip and unlock it. “I’m coming.”

Charles’s voice goes hushed. “Daniel, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

There’s a whimper in the background. It must belong to Max. Daniel’s heart hurts. He knows he doesn’t have a choice. He’s already punching Max’s address into his GPS. “I’m fucking coming, Charles, christ. I know the code to his apartment, I know where the meds are. I need you to let me in when I get there.”

“I really—”

“You called me,” Daniel reminds him.

Charles is silent for a moment. Then he sighs, resigned. “Okay. Fine.”

“Good. Look, just– tell him it’s going to pass. It’s gonna be okay. If he starts having problems with his vision he gets scared, yeah? So just tell him he’s okay.” He feels stupid, like he’s giving instructions to a babysitter. But he feels sick at the idea of no one taking care of Max, or someone not doing it the right way.

There’s a retching sound in the background, then rustling. Daniel can hear Charles saying, “Breathe. Breathe. Alright. Okay.”

“Charles,” Daniel says, urgent. “Tell him I’m coming, okay? Don’t let him get too dehydrated.”

“I don’t–” Charles makes a frustrated sound. “I’ll tell him, but I’m going to hang up. You probably do not want to hear that conversation.”

Daniel winces. “Okay. Yeah. Call me back if he gets worse. Or– call the neurologist, like I said before. If it gets really bad, he needs to go to emergency, I don’t care what he says.”

“Okay. Thank you for helping, Daniel. I will leave the door unlocked.” Charles hangs up. Daniel’s phone makes three irritating little beeps.

It’s going to take way too fucking long for Daniel to get the meds and get to Max. Even ten minutes is too long, but he can’t think of an alternative.

He runs a lot of red lights.

The code to the apartment is still Daniel’s birthday. He knew it would be.

Sassy’s in the doorway, and she stares at him when he walks in before scampering away. He never could make friends with her; she only loves Max. He empathizes.

[see-arcane]

The Vampyres--The Bones and Blood of the Book

Good news! I’m not dead and the book isn’t either! Just shambling slowly through the wasteland of the publication process. It’s been a bit since I last waved this bloody morsel around. So, consider this a progress report on the state of the novella, the prospective publishing options, and a few other questions that have been bouncing around in the inbox.

EDIT:

I have a website now! For some reason.

It's See Arcane Scribbles.

Smaller Edit:

Got a Spotify too for story soundtrack goodness:

COVERS

First things first—and the first part of a finished book is the cover. Here are some mockups I’ve been juggling, starting with the original placeholder. They’re far from perfect, but I’m proud of what I managed with a fairly skinny graphic art skill set.

FINISHING, FORMAT, AND FINANCE*

*(OR, THE HEADACHENING)

Copyright: Technically speaking, you have the copyright to your own writing once you put it to paper or screen. But this is somehow a different thing from a legally-binding registered copyright, which everyone declares is a must-have if you want your work to be protected with more than a non-textual trust-fall exercise, hoping nobody steals your work and runs.

That said, electronic registration with the copyright office is $65, or $45 to register one work by one author.

ISBN: I only recently learned the words behind this acronym. ‘International Standard Book Number.’ It’s the ID on a book that marks it as unique and helps commercial booksellers and libraries circulate it. Each iteration of a book—paperback, digital, hardcover, new editions, et cetera—has its own ISBN. When you’re publishing on your own, you purchase ISBNs through a service called Bowker.

One book/version’s ISBN costs $125.

There are better bargains the higher the number of books and/or versions you go, starting at a bulk of 10 books for $295. But as I only have the one (1) skinny novella on the table, that’s a no-go. Which begs the question of how many ISBNs are in store for this little monster. It depends on how many formats I go with.

eBook: The quickest and most cost-efficient option across the board for any self-publication service. Short, sweet, no printing pains of trim sizes or distribution costs or formatting, oh my. Nice.

Paperback VS Hardcover: …But I am now and forever a sucker for physical media. Even though it’s a teeny brochure of a thing, I want to hold a physical copy of The Vampyres in my hands! So bad! And every service I’ve looked through has stated the obvious: Hardcover costs more than paperback. My heart won’t break if I have to stick with paperback to spare everyone’s wallets—hardcovers are pricy in both directions!—but I am a little torn. Especially as physical size might affect the price too.

Here we have two of my favorite quick reads, an anthology of Poe stories and Clive Barker’s novella, The Hellbound Heart.

The Poe book is a clothbound hardcover. 6.5 x 4.5 inches, a bit over 120 pages.

The Hellbound Heart is roughly 8 x 5 inches (about standard for a novella), at 164 pages. But unlike Poe, it looks like Barker took some liberties with the spacing and font size.

Standard size dimensions cost less than unique cuts, which means that whether paperback or hardcover, I sadly have to say goodbye to the petite palm-sized edition I was hoping for. On the upside, good news to us crap-vision readers—the font’s going to get H U G E in order to make the book more than a pamphlet with delusions of grandeur.

Audiobook: The fact is, my voice is not up to the task of reciting anything with appropriate gravitas and I think we’ve all been spoiled by @re-dracula and assorted other podcasts’ skill in orating. I don’t have the cash to hire a professional and I’m not about to accept anyone’s freebie offers. I won’t pickpocket friends for their talent. If an audio version ever comes along for any story of mine it’ll be down the road when it proves worth the format’s effort and cost.

REVIEWS (and a Foreword!)

It was the best of times (People reading the thing! Commenting on the thing! Good good good—), it was the worst of times (The Mortifying Ordeal of People Reading and Commenting on the Thing). Time for what every advice site declares a book absolutely must have the moment it’s thrust into the wild.

Reviews, reviews, reviews.

I’ve already bitten several bullets and passed copies out to a handful of fellow scribblers to scrutinize, their reviews destined to be hung up like literary gold stars on their bookselling site of choice, my own included. Now comes my preliminary grovel to readers en masse to please drop a review, a comment, a blurb of any shape or size where you can once The Vampyres drops. I’ve already gotten some early comments that have consisted mostly of screaming. Screams also count as a review.

As an aside, there are two folks in particular who I reached out to who exist in the stratosphere of Coolest People in the Vampiric Lit scene. They promptly exploded me into disbelieving giblets when they told me, yes, they’d be happy to read my little story and offer up a review and a foreword for the book respectively.

I’m not sure what the decorum here is, but for safety (and surprise’s) sake, I’ll not name names. But they are names I’ve been happy to come across for the past two years while neck deep in the undead book club. I’m infinitely grateful to both of them and am waiting on pins, needles, stakes and kukri blades by my inbox so I can pin their words up inside the book itself.

FUTURE SCRIBBLING

To get one of the biggest questions out of the way, let’s talk about Barking Harker.

My very own object lesson on sunk cost fallacy.

I wrote my way through a goddamn cinderblock of text without even grazing the finish line of the first section of the story. A story made of so many convoluted triple-decker layers of subplots and side characters that it had the structural integrity of a monolithic Nature Valley granola bar, just waiting to fall apart under its own weight. Such is the hubris and curse of too-many-words-itis. The Vampyres remains a miraculous fluke, jotted down during an overdue break from BH’s slog. Not just because I tripped and fell into finishing the story, but because it’s comparatively compact! Brevity at last!

For those still craving the assorted gothic and ghoulish promises of the initial novel idea, don’t worry, those aren’t going anywhere. I’ve just crumbled the metaphorical bloodstained granola by my own hand and have done the sane thing of parsing out the various subplots to become the foundations of their own stories. Which they really should have been from the get-go. Insert 100+ clown emojis here.

On that note, I am turning into WIPs Georg over here. Good god.

I hesitate to throw myself all-in again and make promises of X Story that may leave me spinning my mental wheels or ballooning the plot out into a behemoth that can’t be steered back on course. Even so, here’s a peek at a few ideas I currently have on the brain.

So.

Not exactly lacking for stories. It’s just a matter of seeing which of them breaks ahead of the herd and squeezes out into the publication ether first.

LAST BIT  

Blah, blah, requisite reminder that I have a Ko-Fi where you can donate a buck or commission my best attempt at art, blah. Any pennies are a help.

But I’m betting very few of you came around here for my doodles. Somehow, a good amount of people tripped into this pit with me because you enjoy the rambles and horrors I’ve written over the years. Maybe some of you will even buy my book once it’s out. And you, there, on the other side of the screen—you’re reading this right now. You made it all the way to the bottom of this pile of exposition just because you wanted to. So, thank you.

Thank you for reading this far. Thank you for reading before and reading what’s to come. Thank you for giving me the confidence to even consider shouldering my own work out into the wider world.

Thank you.

P.S. If you want to re-read the preview, go here!

[ghostofhyuck]

But moving on from him is impossible

When I still see it all in my head

In burning red

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Everything is still the same, you think.

The streets, the establishments, even the people. Some even greeted you, surprising you but you were quick enough to give them a smile as you continued your walk.

You think that it’s stupid; who even walks on an autumn morning? It was the perfect season to laze around, sleep on your bed, and have a warm cup of coffee inside the comfort of your house. But you were only here for a few days, so striking up a short walk might be a good activity to do in the town since you’ll be leaving sooner.

But the chilly weather can be torture too. You couldn’t help but to rub your arms to warm yourself up. The layers of coat, scarf, and sweater didn’t help you either. Still, it’s been a long time since you went here, so you just made the most out of it.

You find yourself standing in front of a familiar coffee shop, nostalgia hits you as the smell of freshly-baked pastry lingers on your nose. You tapped your coat’s pocket to check if your wallet was with you and as you felt a bump, it was a sign to enter the coffee shop.

“Welcome — oh hey! It’s been so long,” and he still hasn’t changed a bit. Same smile and warm welcome.

“Hey Johnny,” you greeted, eyes locked on the displays of pastries. “Can I have two pieces of red velvet cookies please?”

You watched as Johnny fixed your order and as you two are by the counter, he tells you that it’s on the house.

“What? I can’t accept it,” you tried to place the money on the counter but Johnny’s too strong for you, even resulting in him grabbing your hand just so he could place your money back.

“No no, it’s been so long you know, we kinda miss you having around,” Johnny explains.

There’s a string of hurt from Johnny’s words. You couldn’t help but feel guilty about what happened, you know that both of you don’t have any fault about it but — there’s just something about breaking someone’s heart.

“Is he around?” and finally, you mustered the courage to ask about him.

“He’s out of town, he’ll be back in two days I think,” the same time you’ll be leaving this town. Fate must be playing with you.

“Oh. okay, well I won’t be here around that time, so just tell him I drop by okay?”

“You know you could always call him right?” Johnny replies instead. You became quiet as the older guy gave you an assuring smile before handing you the paper bag.

You bid Johnny goodbye and as the doorbell of the coffee shop chimes, you were welcomed by the cold breeze. You couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh as the bag of cookies was still in your hand.

“What an idiot,” you cursed yourself. You half-expecting that he’ll be there. You were expecting that it was him who’ll welcome you and ask you what kind of pastry that you want — not Johnny. But he wasn’t and maybe it was a sign that it’s not really meant to be.

It was stupid. Everything was stupid because you impulsively bought a ticket to his hometown, excusing that it has nothing to do with him when in fact, you just missed him and you missed that town because it became your home for years too.

And now you’re hurting yourself because no matter how small the town is, and how barely there were any changes. You still can’t find him.

You found yourself sitting on a bench near the park’s fountain. It was nothing but cold and lonely because it was the same spot where the two of you would sit and just talk and talk until you two realised that it’s late at night.

It was the same spot where the two of you called it off…whoever decided to call it off, you barely remember, you hardly recall what you two were fighting about. You just know that both of you are tired and perhaps, it was just a sad case of falling out of love.

You remember the paper bag and as you were about to open the bag, you recall Johnny’s words to you. You couldn’t help but be confused with his words, you pondered about it too. What was Johnny trying to say?

But you find yourself fishing out your phone from your jean’s pocket. Opening your contacts and seeing how you never seemed to change his contact name. You wanted to press the call button, but a part of you wishes to leave a little pride to yourself. What's the use of trying to get back with your ex-boyfriend? Will second chances change anything?

But you miss him so much that it hurts. Years of silence and hardly any news from him, you still found yourself going to the place where everything happened. Maybe it was a grave mistake that you booked a flight to the town, because now that you’re here, the place is playing with your feelings.

Yet, you couldn’t do anything when you clicked the call button, muttering curses and “fuck it.”

“You called…” that’s when you know that no matter how many years have passed, your heart still calls for him.

“Hi Mark,” you greeted awkwardly, your hands were shaky but you tried so much to not drop your phone. “Listen, I’m back in town, I was hoping that we could meet maybe, over a cup of coffee?”

[daughterofcain-67]

𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 (pt.1)

(Beau Arlen x Female Reader)

(masterlist)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Every day the sheriff comes into your coffee shop, and every day you both seem to put a smile on each others face, even when Beau is working his saddening cases. You’d be lying of you said you didn’t have a thing for the sheriff- but what woman with a working set of eyes didn’t? What you didn’t know was who you would meet in your cafe later that day…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of kidnapping because of the case Beau is working on

The smell of coffee was all around you since you were in the process of brewing some pots or some of your early morning customers. You were wearing your cream colored polo with your purple apron. The apron as well as the polo had the name of your business on the top left corner called ‘Morning Glory Coffee’ in cursive on a white mug along with the flowers by the same name beside it.

You heard the bell on the door ringing out, signaling that someone else was walking into your little cafe. Wrapping up your last to-go order, you glanced over to see who was there and you smiled when you saw the familiar stature of the sheriff.

“Sheriff Arlen! You’re here early.” You grinned as you turned around to get his typical order started.

“Ms. L/N, you know you don’t have to be so formal with me.” Beau said as he pulled out his wallet.

“Now you know I can’t do that. And don’t worry about payin’ this time. It’s on the house.” You insisted as you handed him his cup of coffee.

“Well, if you’re insisting on the coffee, I insist that you call me Beau from now on.” You saw the smirk on his face, causing you to grin.

“Alright, Beau.” You said, accepting the little compromise.

When he took the coffee, your fingers grazed and you pulled away when he had a grip on his cup. As he took a sip, he let out a low hum. “My, my, Y/N. I swear you make the best coffee I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Awe, well thanks! I’m glad you like it so much.” You insisted, but honestly you just loved that he seemed to come in practically every day. It was honestly when made your mornings happier, that boost you needed just a little more than caffeine.

“How are things going? Got any new cases you’re working on?” You asked curiously as you grabbed a rag to start cleaning up the counter. It was a slow Wednesday morning so far so every once in a while you liked to talk to your customers when you had the time. No one was even there at the moment since it’s been mostly to-go orders.

“Yeah, kind of a big one. You heard about those missing women?” He asked and you lifted a brow.

“No? Then again I haven’t had much time to watch the news.”

“Well, two women have gone missing. We don’t really have any leads yet but I’ve got some interviews today with the missing persons’ loved ones. Conversations like that are always hard.” He sighed and you frowned, knowing he’s been in those shoes before.

“I can’t imagine having a job like yours. You see a lot of dark things from day to day and it’s gotta be a difficult thing.”

“It can be. But in the cases where I’m actually able to get those families reunited, it makes it so worth it in the end. It’s worth it when the right justice is being served and we get the guy.”

“Well, I won’t keep you from getting one step closer to justice. Just do me a favor and be careful out there, alright?”

Beau smiled at you, that same smile that made you feel oddly warm and fuzzy on the inside, “Will do, Darlin. See you around.”

When Sheriff Arlen left your business partner, your little sister named Cadence, was holding a tray of banana bread and some muffins with some sort of knowing smirk on her face.

“What?” You asked as you went back to cleaning up the counter.

“You have it for him so bad.” Cadence teased.

“What? No I don’t! And even if I did, he’s a cute enough guy that would have more people interested in him than just me. I wouldn’t stand that much of a chance. Plus he hangs out with Cassie and Jenny a lot anyways.” You reminded just to hear the exasperated sigh from Cadence as she set the tray in the display case.

“Are you kidding me?! You both have a thing for each other! ‘Oh Y/N, this is the best coffee I’ve ever had!’ ‘Oh promise me you’ll be careful, Beau, my love!’” Your sister began to swoon dramatically while you shook your head.

“I didn’t sound like that. And Beau just likes the coffee. It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh yeah? Well you guys should at least give it a shot. I mean you haven’t dated in three years ever since… well you know. And Beau’s single too. You guys hit it off just fine and you talk almost every morning every time he comes in here.”

“I can’t date him. He’s got too much on his plate with being the sheriff and all. He sees a lot and he has a lot of things to do and a lot that he goes through and he probably doesn’t even have the time for a girlfriend.” You tried to reason and Cadence lifted a brow.

“Really? You’re trying to use that as an excuse? You realize that when Beau got married he was in law enforcement anyway, right? Clearly he’s done it before and I bet he’d be willing to give it another shot rather than being alone and unhappy.”

You listened and tried to think. You knew she was right, but you also knew men like Beau Arlen didn’t go out with women like you. You’ve gotten your hopes up for relationships before and you knew what it was like to be rejected when you first started dating again after unspoken chapter of your life. You weren’t exactly open for that kind of rejection again.

“What if I talked to Jenny and Cassie to set you up with him? I’m sure they’d love that!”

“Are you insane?! No, I don’t think that’s really a good idea.” You shook your hands in front of you.

Your sister groaned, clearly unhappy that you were being so stubborn about this. You really did appreciate her efforts in trying to get you back in the dating game. Couldn’t she try to set you up with someone that’s more realistic for you in stead of someone like Beau?

The door opened up again and there were more customers coming back in, interrupting your conversation with Cadence about the Beau situation - thank goodness.

Beau strode into the office with his coffee in hand. He enjoyed going to your shop in the morning. Seeing your smiling face always gave him a bit of a jump start he needed.

“Well, well, well! Did you go over to see your girlfriend again?” Hoyt greeted as she put her hands in the pockets of her jeans. She had this smirk on her face like she was trying to tease Beau, who only smirked and shook his head.

“Yeah, you wish.” He said as he started walking to his office, just for Jenny to follow behind him.

“Oh come on, just admit that you have a thing for her! When was the last time you went on a date, huh?”

“Instead of questioning me about my nonexistent love life with the coffee shop owner, can you tell me if we’ve got any more information on those missin’ women? And where’s Pompernickle?”

“Right here, boss!” Poppernack called as he held up a file and made his way to Beau’s office as well.

The three of them walked inside and Beau shut the door, “What do we got?”

“Well, we’ve found the families that way we can ask them if they’ve seen anyone in the womens’ friend groups that were a little peculiar. Maybe the family members noticed something that the missing two didn’t see in them?” Poppernack said.

“Oh if only it was that easy. Yeah, sometimes it’s someone the victim knows - hell half the time that’s the case. But then there’s those small percentages where it really is a complete stranger.” Beau reminded.

“Woah, they aren’t victims yet. They’re captives. Hopefully they’re still alive.” Jenny interjected, Beau nodded.

“Yeah, that’s always the hope that’s why we’ve gotta step on the gas with this before things get worse and someone else goes missin’.’ Is that all we’ve got?”

“No. I’ve got a witness from a gas station that said they saw one of the girls, Sidney Ferguson, filling up some gas in some green SUV.” Hoyt began.

“From what he said, it looked like a Hyundai. Couldn’t tell you the license plates because the manager said the security cameras were out and they’re in the process of replacing them.”

“Great, a green SUV with no plates to track them down with. Are we even sure she drives that kind of vehicle?”

“I’ve seen Ferguson around before she went missing. She didn’t drive that from what I can remember. A white Jeep Wrangler. 2015 I think.” Poppernack said, “Issued a warning once. Speeding.”

“There’s a lead. Pops, why don’t you do some research and see how many of those SUVs are runnin’ around town. Jenny, you take Ferguson’s family this morning and ask some questions and I’ll talk to the other girls family. Hopefully there will be a lead on Ember O’Riley here soon so we have somethin’ to tell that family.” Beau said.

“Maybe one of the families or even some of their friends know something about that SUV. It’s worth a shot to ask about that too.” Hoyt reminded as she started walking towards the door so they could start their morning.

Beau watched as his two deputies left. Then he looked down at the cup you gave him. That was when he noticed you actually left a note for him, ‘Have a good day, Sheriff.’ He had never seen your handwriting before but it was cute that you put a sheriff’s star to dot the ‘I’ in your note.

He smiled fondly to himself before he took another sip and made his way out of the door of his office. Yeah Hoyt may have teased him once in a while about the fact that maybe he liked more than just your coffee, and maybe she wasn’t exactly wrong. It’s just that while he was friendly with people, he didn’t want to get close. Not after losing his partner, not after losing his wife and daughter to Avery. He didn’t want to get attached and lose anyone else no matter the circumstances. Death or otherwise.

Once he snapped out of his thoughts, Beau found himself already outside and he felt his phone buzz in his hand. When he pulled out the device while walking to his car, he saw that Poppernack gave him the address to the O’Riley household.

“And off we go.”

It was noon and your sister just left for her lunch break since you had already come back from yours. You had put out some baked goods in the display case for whoever would stop by and decide they may want something more than something to drink. As you were doing this, you heard the door bell sound out again.

You turned around and you saw someone walking in. You hadn’t seen this person before but he seemed nice. Then again you tried to see the good in all your customers. Everyone had a good quality about them and this man? Well he seemed to have a nice smile.

“Hi there, what can I get for ya?” You asked with a grin.

“Actually, this is my first time coming in here. Can you give me some kind of recommendation?” He asked. He had a kindness in his voice. His hair was dark brown, his eyes were a hazel and his skin was tanned like he tended to spend a lot of time in the sun.

“Well, I have the typical black coffee with an assortment of creamers. I can get you an americano, latte, cappuccino if you want something a little on the warmer side. For some colder options I’ve got cold brews with different flavored cold foams like Irish cream, hazelnut, sweet cream. Then I’ve got some energy drink options. Just a little of everything really. So what’s your poison?”

“A little of everything, huh?” He asked, “I think I’ll take a cold brew. With some of that Irish cold foam if you don’t mind?”

You smiled at him, “Of course. Can I get a name for that order?”

“Andre.”

“Andre… Nice name. Actually you’re the first one I’ve met.” You admitted and he chuckled.

“Yeah, I hear it’s not exactly a common name, especially around here.”

“Let me go ahead and get that drink started for ya, Andre.” You insisted and walked off.

As you got started on making the cold brew, you could hear some of your other customer’s talking in the corner.

“So the police came and talked to your family? What did they want?” Said one teen. You stayed quiet as you continued with your task, “Yeah. They said they may have some kind of a lead to find Sid. But they didn’t say anything about what that lead was. I guess they didn’t want my family to get involved.”

“Yeah, That’s fair. I mean your mom and dad are going through a lot as it is with her going missing and all. I feel bad for the O’Rileys too.. I heard Ember was an expectant mom to be too… She must be terrified.”

“Yeah if she’s not dead already.”

“Guys, it’s only been a week! Mrs. O’Riley and my sister will both be fine, I’m sure. Sheriff Arlen and Deputy Hoyt are really good at their jobs, I’m sure they can find something if they’re the ones on the case.”

Your heart ached at hearing those girls talk about the case. It was even more heartbreaking that one of them had a sister that was missing. You were glad that she was still hopeful and you really hoped that Beau would be able to find this Sid girl as well as Ember as soon as he could before it was too late.

“Here you are, Andre. One cold brew with cold foam.” You smiled once more and handed him the cup and a straw.

“Thanks.” He grinned and you could notice a dimple on his left cheek. He handed you the card and you took it for the payment before he spoke again.

“By the way… can I ask what your name is?” He asked.

You looked up at him. You were a little skeptical as to why he wanted to know your name, but you didn’t think too much of it. Maybe he was just new around here and wanted to make some friends or something.

“Y/N. I’m glad you came in today, and I hope you enjoy.” You grinned as you handed him the card back as well as his receipt.

“Thanks! You have a good one.” Andre said and he left.

“You too!” You called as he walked out of the door just as Cadence was walking in.

You watched your sister do a double take and her gaze lingered before she looked at you, tilting her head and she walked behind the counter again, “So who was that? He’s new to coming here isn’t he?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“He’s pretty cute though. Nice ass too.” She smirked and you rolled your eyes, grinning.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend already?”

“Uh, I didn’t mean cute for me. Even if he does have a nicer ass than Corbin’s.” Cadence said, “I meant for you.”

“What happened to the whole Beau thing?”

“Oh are you kidding me? That’s my number one option for you. He’s totally unbeatable. But since you’re being so stubborn about not going out with him, it’s always good to keep your options open.”

“Cadence, this was literally the first time he’s ever been in this shop. We don’t know if he was visiting town or what his deal is.” You reminded and you watched your sister cross her arms, wanting to sulk like a child.

“Why do you always want to burst my bubble!?”

“Well don’t say I popped it just yet. He did ask what my name is, so maybe he’s moving here, or he already has moved here and is trying to make some kind of acquaintances or something.” Then Cadence’s eyes lit up almost like a Christmas tree.

“He asked you your name!?” She practically squealed, causing you to cringe a little.

“You don’t think it’s odd or anything?”

“What? No. How else are you supposed to meet people if you don’t talk to them or if you don’t know their name! So what was his name?”

“Andre.”

“Andre!? Ugh, that’s so dreamy! If he comes in again you have to take a shot.”

You smiled, shaking your head at your sister’s nonsense, “Oh go clock in now, would you?”

“This is where the love triangle starts, Y/N! I’m tellin’ ya!”

Hi everyone! Here’s the start of a new little series I’m starting and I hope you like it! There’s more to come with this series.

Tag List:

@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92

[strangersatellites]

happy valentine’s day steddie nation! have some lumax & steddie shenanigans as a treat! i love you all! 🫶🏼

February 11th, 1987

It’s not that she’s particularly interested in watching E.T. again. It's more so the fact that the back of the VHS box has enough words that she can pretend to read it for an extended period of time without looking suspicious. 

See, Max is a planner. She plans. Plots might actually be a better word. Perhaps even schemes.

Whatever. She plans. 

When the time is right, she executes. 

Luckily, Lucas is good for two (2) things. 

Anything and everything Max asks of him

Causing problems on purpose

That’s how she finds herself here. Pretending to read the back of a movie she’s seen at least ten times while she acts like she’s not able to hear the conversation happening at the Family Video counter.

“Oh come on! It’s for Valentine’s Day!”

Steve stops whatever he’s trying to do on the tv and props a hand on his hip while he levels Lucas with a look.

“What makes you think I don’t have plans already, Sinclair? Huh? I could have my own date to plan for all you know.”

Lucas snorts. “Yeah, right. Please, Steve? I already told Max you said yes so she’s expecting it to be a whole thing! I’ll ask Eddie to drop us off and everything! Plus, my mom said we can only have a date if you chaperone and no offense, but I’m not taking you to a restaurant.”

“Well maybe we need to practice honesty in our relationships,” Steve says, pointing the tv remote at him. “You’re lucky Max is my favorite, or else you would’ve been in deep shit. Now what did you tell her I was cooking?”

Max has to hide a giggle behind the horror movie display at the way Lucas visibly sags in relief. He throws her a wink when Steve turns back to the screen. 

*****

February 12th, 1987

Finding the money is easy. 

It’s not Max’s fault Eddie is an absolute idiot and leaves his wallet in his unlocked van during Hellfire. 

The man is just asking to be a victim of petty theft.

Plus, she doubts he even pays enough attention to the amount of money he has in there anyway. He probably won’t even know it's gone. 

Picking the flowers out wasn’t difficult either. 

Steve’s favorite flowers are tulips, and under any other circumstances they would be the obvious choice. But everyone knows a dozen red roses means true love. 

And it's Valentine’s Day. Come on.

The florist had watched the pair look at all the flowers with a twinkle in her eye. No doubt she thought Lucas was buying them for Max. 

Gross.

Convincing her that they needed them delivered to Family Video on Valentine’s Day was a little trickier.

“No they’re not for me, ew.” and “They’re for a friend.” and “Yes, we know it's last minute.”

But arguably the most difficult part had been choosing what to put on the card. 

They’re sitting on the sidewalk outside the arcade writing and crossing out and writing again while everyone else is inside.

“Lucas, are you kidding me? We can’t just say Happy Valentine’s Day. That’s so lame.”

He throws his hands up in an exasperated gesture. “Well what else? We can’t be all ‘roses are red, violets are blue, I’m a big dumb idiot who won’t make a move.’”

Max snorts a laugh and gives him a conspiratory smile before she starts writing on the back of a receipt.

“No. But you know what we can do?”

*****

February 13th, 1987

“I don’t know… this feels a little risky.”

Max swats at Lucas’s bicep and glares. 

“Just trust me. All we have to do is get Eddie there and his own desperate need to be nosy will do the rest.”

Lucas takes a deep breath in and accepts his fate. “If this doesn’t work it's your fault.”

She just rolls her eyes and shoves him up and off the couch. 

They’re in the Wheeler’s basement finishing up yesterday’s campaign so they can all have Valentine’s day to do their own thing. Eddie called for a ten minute break after Mike and Dustin had to very nearly be physically held back during an argument about what move they should make next. 

He’s propped on the arm of his chair and writing something in a little notebook when Lucas approaches. 

“Uh hey, Eddie? Can I ask you something?”

The older boy raises his eyes up to meet Lucas’s and squints at him.

“Roll for charisma.”

Now it's Lucas’s turn to roll his eyes. “Are you serious?”

Eddie breaks into a bright smile and settles into his seat with a laugh. “Nah, man. What’s up, Sinclair?”

“Are you busy tomorrow? Do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day I mean?”

Eddie’s brows furrow and he tilts his head a bit. “No way, dude. I’ll be sitting at home with a movie and a bowl of Wayne’s spaghetti if the past is any indication of how my day will play out. Besides, you know how I feel about all that shit.”

Max squints from her place on the couch braiding El’s hair. She does know how he feels about all that shit. She heard him telling Robin alllllllll about how he wanted to have a real Valentine’s Day date one day. 

She’s grateful at this moment that he’s publicly sticking to his guns. No “forced conformity” in sight.

That would’ve ruined the plan.

“Perfect!” Lucas claps.

Max cringes but he recovers.

“Uh, I mean– I mean that’s perfect for me then! I was going to ask if you could come pick me up from Steve’s tomorrow. He told me he’d let me go through his closet and pick out something to wear.” He looks down and picks at a string on his jacket and Max has to hand it to him. His acting skills are pretty impressive. “I’m taking Max on a real date tomorrow.”

Eddie’s face softens and he cuts the shit with his false bravado almost instantly.

“That’s sweet, man. But why can’t Harrington drive you to Max’s exactly?”

And shit.

Max didn’t think Eddie would question him. Not with the way he drives them places all the time. 

Then again so does Steve. So maybe that was a bit of an oversight.

But Lucas takes it in stride. “Oh he said something about cooking for his own date when I leave.”

Max might be a bit more worried about Lucas’s ability to lie off the cuff if she weren’t so impressed.

Eddie just nods. “Sure, kiddo. I’ll be there at 7 o’clock sharp.”

Easy.

Now they wait.

*****

February 14th, 1987

Max is sitting on the counter swinging her feet while Steve and Robin bicker back and forth about what order the new display movies should go in.

It’s ten minutes before six and she’s starting to get nervous.

Her inner monologue is screaming, “I knew she would forget to deliver them.”

Just about the time she’s going to ask to use Keith’s phone to call Lucas, the florist van pulls up.

Steve furrows his brow and looks at Robin. She just raises her shoulders and shakes her head. He opens the door and leans against it.

A young girl hops out of the passenger seat with the prettiest bouquet of red roses Max has ever seen. She has to bite back her own smile. 

“Hi!” The girl greets while rustling through the leaves to find the card. “Delivery for uh– Stevie?”

Robin snorts and slaps a hand over her mouth.

Steve runs a hand through his hair and stutters out a “I’ll just get those. Yeah– yeah thanks. Have a good one,” and comes back inside.

Max puts on her game face when he puts them on the counter and steps back with his hands on his hips. 

Robin has propped her chin in her hands and is looking on with barely concealed glee.

Max levels him with a bored look. “So… What does the card say?”

He reaches for the card and reads it quietly to himself. If Max isn’t mistaken, his cheeks are dusted with a pink flush.

He smiles and laughs. “They’re from Eds.”

Eds? Gross.

“Dear Stevie, something happened and I'm head over heels. Happy Valentine’s Day. Love, Eddie.”

Robin mimes being struck by Cupid and Steve giggles at her antics and thumbs over the petals of one of the flowers with a soft smile.

Before Max can unpack that, the door bursts open so hard the bell swings into the glass with a clang.

Steve’s head snaps to the door with a “LUCAS!” already ringing out through the store.

He holds his hands up in a placating gesture and catches his breath.

“Sorry! Sorry! Max, you ready to go?”

And, oh. Right. 

She hops off the counter and grabs her bag. Spins around to Robin and Steve with a smile.

She leans in to whisper, “We’re going somewhere on a date tonight. He thinks I don’t know.”

Robin bites back another smile and salutes Lucas while Steve laughs under his breath and grabs his own keys and the vase off the counter.

“Have fun kiddos! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Robin calls out as they take off out the door.

*****

As riveting as the idea of hiding in a bush and watching Steve cook and sing to himself for an hour sounds, in practice it is painfully boring.

“Seriously? We couldn’t have just gone to the arcade until 7 o’clock?” Lucas angry-whispers.

Max adjusts her elbows on her knees so her binoculars are steadier.

“No. We need to be here to make sure everything goes to plan.”

Lucas groans and Max gives him an aggressive shush.

“Steve already liked the flowers and he double checked with me yesterday that you still wanted his homemade pizza. Literally all Eddie has to do is show up and take the bait.”

Now it’s Max who’s groaning. “Ugh, I don’t know, okay! But it's like five minutes ‘til seven anyway so it doesn’t matter.”

It’s just when they see Steve set the plates on either side of the bouquet on the table that they hear the sound of Eddie’s van turning into the driveway.

They both inhale sharply and duck further behind the bushes. 

When Eddie climbs out he looks… nice.

Nice for Eddie at least. 

There’s no chains, no dirty sneakers. Instead there’s a black button up and his nice boots. He’s got his hair half pulled up and all of his earrings in.

Max and Lucas share a bewildered look. Surely he didn’t lie about not having plans tonight, right?

Realistically the two know they’re too far away to hear or be heard but that doesn’t stop them from holding their breath as Eddie knocks on the door.

Steve opens it with a towel slung over his shoulder. He’s dressed the part too. Dark jeans and a dark red sweater, looking exactly like a parent chaperoning a kid’s date.

His smile is bright as he opens the door and gestures for Eddie to come inside. 

They stand beside the foyer window and chat while the two look on through binoculars with bated breath. 

“Surely Eddie’s noticed I’m not there by now, right?” Lucas questions.

Max hums and nods. “Yeah and I’m guessing that Steve has realized Eddie isn’t dropping us off either.”

The two boys throw their heads back in what they can only assume to be hearty laughter from their lack of sound. Steve nods his head towards the kitchen and Eddie gestures for him to lead the way.

“It worked! Max! It actually worked! He’s staying!”

Steve pulls out Eddie’s chair and lights the candles; dims the lights, and takes his own seat.

Max just laughs. “Of course it worked. They’ve been into each other for months! They’re both just too stupid to notice it without a little push!”

They look on in silence as Steve has magically procured a bottle of wine and two glasses and is filling them while they talk.

Lucas smiles and nudges Max with his shoulder. “Dude. Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

She smiles back and punches his arm. “Yeah. Best one ever.”

*****

Meanwhile in the Harrington House

“So, should we tell them?”

Eddie snorts. “Tell them what? That we knew they were trying to set us up or that we’ve been together for four months?”

Now it’s Steve who’s laughing. “I was thinking more about the fact that we can see them in the bushes.”

“Nah. I want to keep that one until I need to sandbag them for something.”

Steve shakes his head and looks at the table.

Eddie grabs his hand and lowers his voice to a whisper. “Hey.”

Steve looks up and meets his eyes, gets a little lost in the way they sparkle in the candlelight.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.”

He lifts Eddie’s hand and presses a soft kiss to his knuckles, the new devil ring Steve gave him before he left this morning.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Eds.”

Maybe if Max and Lucas had looked a little closer, they would have noticed that the plates on the table didn’t have homemade pizza, they had spaghetti.

That the bouquet on the table wasn’t a dozen roses.

It was tulips.

[serpentinesketches]

More for my GO Gladiator AU! I started thinking up what I wanted their first meeting to look like, and this scene popped into my head. I imagine the vibes here are much like the drunk "Dolphins!" conversation in S1 canon (you know the one). Very silly and good bonding time for these two :D

I'm not fully done writing it, but here's a snippit of their first meeting scene under the cut to accompany this art:

---

The woman drags Aziraphale by the hand off into one of the side-rooms, pushes him down onto a small chair, and puts a knee up on the large, circular bed that is the main centerpiece of the room. She fixes him with the same amused look as before as she fiddles with the serpent clasp on her left shoulder, “So, tell me, what is it you really want? You have something specific in mind, I can tell.”

Aziraphale clears his throat, suddenly realizing they were very much not on the same page, “Ah, apologies my dear, I believe you’ve misread my apprehension earlier. I actually, um… Don’t? Want to sleep with you, that is.”

“… Eh?” The woman had seemed ready to accept most feasible answers to her question. This answer was not on the list.

“It’s just…” Aziraphale sighs, a fullbody thing, “It’s dreadfully boring, mingling around, talking about conquests and the like. And I’d much rather curl up with a good book. But I’m not allowed to just leave, there’d be… consequences.” Aziraphale shudders, involuntary, “That lot does not just send rude notes.”

Aziraphale shakes himself and blazes on, “I’ll compensate you handily though! Enough you shouldn’t have to work again tonight,” he pulls out his wallet, “assuming I remember the going rates for these things well enough…” he mumbles the last bit, more to himself.

He extends his hand with the money, offering it up, “All I ask is you stay in this room with me for a couple hours, and if anyone asks, we had a lovely time.”

“… Uh-huh.”

“I’m sure you could use the break, either way.” Aziraphale continues, to fill the silence, “I’ve never met someone of your profession who is not dreadfully overworked.”

Taking the money, she seems to catch up to reality and cracks a smile, “Well, yeah - you won’t hear me complaining!” She flops down on the plush circular mattress, melting into it. He hadn’t realized how precisely she had been holding herself until she finally actually relaxed.

“It’s kinda funny, I thought you’d have no interest in sleeping around when I first saw you. Good to know my instincts aren’t waning on me.” She winks at him - seems flirting is just a default for her, no matter the circumstances.

“Yes well.” Aziraphale wrings his hands, “I know it’s odd of me, but I simply have no interest in sleeping with people I hardly know”

“Certainly unusual, but not bad.” Her head tilts side-to-side as she considers this. She looks down, pauses for a beat.

“Well. Let’s get to know each other then – the name’s Crowley,” she leans up, extending a hand.

“That’s an odd name for a—Wait, no, you don’t have to-“ Aziraphale stutters, several thoughts getting caught in his throat while he attempts to voice them all at once.

Crowley laughs, but not a cruel laugh, more endeared than anything by Aziraphale’s stumbling. “I know, I know, I’m not trying to get in your pants. I just don’t want to wait here in silence, and you seem interesting.”

“Ah, well then,” Aziraphale takes her hand in his, ever so gentle. “It’s a pleasure. I’m Aziraphale.”

“Oh wow, really?” Aziraphale nods, sheepish. “Huh! Never figured I’d get to fake-bed someone of your renown – that’ll be a feather in my cap for sure.” Crowley continues, undeterred.

“Mmm, glad my ‘renown’ will be helpful to one of us” Aziraphale snarks, annoyance seeping through his normally reserved exterior. Crowley looks taken aback at his admission, but not wholly surprised.

There’s a moment of quiet, and Aziraphale remembers his other train of thought, “Oh! If I may, I don’t mean to be rude, but your name - it’s not usually a name for a lady…”

“Ah, clever man!” Crowley waggles his finger at him, “that’d be because I’m not one.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked- I just assumed-“

“Don’t worry about it, seriously.” Crowley interrupts before Aziraphale can apologize himself into a tizzy, “people assume, and I play into it intentionally.”

“Plus, I mean, it’s all made up anyway, the way I see it. Woman, man, whatever else, who cares. We’re all just human at the end of the day.”

---

If you've read to this point I appreciate you very much, I hope you liked my nonsense! Have a virtual cookie! <3 🍪

[escapingrealtiylovinginsanity]

Rewind, Remix, & Replay Jay & Kim 6x5

You can read the rest of the series here

This one is pretty short but it should hold you over. I’m so excited to write the next four chapters. I have big ideas! That being said it might just be one chapter next week.

The team had all gotten together for brunch. Trudy was celebrating her twenty-five years as a cop. Playing two truths and a lie was always fun and competitive when it was a table full of cops. “And go,” Trudy sat back in her seat waiting to see what the tables consensus was.

“Okay, Dickin’s don’t do Karaoke so that’s the lie.” Kevin is confident and Hailey points at him agreeing with his words. But Kim shakes her head dismissively thinking she knows her mentor better than that.

“No definitely not. It’s soccer. The woman hates moving.” Trudy scoffs at the comment crossing her arms over her chest. Her sharp eyes watched the way that Kim leaned into Jay. Their chairs were pulled close together and his hand was resting on her thigh with her hand on his forearm absently caressing it with her thumb. The familiarity spoke of a long relationship in its natural movements and shared looks.

Jay laughed, “Yeah, there is no way you play varsity soccer in high school.” The table continued their roasting. The team was in high spirits and the last week had been running smoothly. The tension between Jay and Adam had faded along with his impressive shiner. They all lingered even after they finished eating, enjoying the company and teasing of one another.

Jay got up to order another mimosa for Kim at the bar. It was a Saturday and they may have another round if they were going to be there for a while. A shadow fell over him. “You want another drink Sarg?” When Trudy didn’t respond he turned to look at her. Her gaze is still on the table the team is sitting at.

“I haven’t seen her that happy in a while.” Jay’s blue eyes followed her gaze to Kim. She had a huge smile, and Antonio said something that made her throw her head back and laugh. The sound brings warmth to his chest. It’s infectious and makes him smile too. “Don’t screw this up, Halstead. That is my girl, you better take care of her. I promise you, you won’t find better.”

Jay turned to fully face her. Her eyes held a seriousness that he matched. “I know. I have every intention of keeping that smile on her face.” Life was finally settling down. Work was back to normal. Everyone was getting along and had fallen back into a seamless understanding and camaraderie.

Kim’s sister had spent two weeks in rehab. Zoey had been staying with Kim and in turn with him. The pair didn’t sleep apart well anymore. Nicole had gotten out and was more like herself. Zoey had gone home. A peace in Kim that had been missing for too long had returned. She seemed lighter. Less worry furrowing in between her eyebrows. “She is my girl too.” Trudy gave him a short curt nod of acceptance. If Jay didn’t know any better, he might have thought she had teared up a little.

“Good because I like you, Halstead. I would hate to have to kick your ass.” Jay couldn’t contain his bark of laughter. “I mean it Chuckles. You hurt her and you’ll pay the price.” It wasn’t the first hurt her and I’ll kill you spiel he had gotten but he did not doubt that it was the most dangerous. And that was saying something considering he had gotten it in various degrees from Kevin, Antonio, and Voight. Kim was well loved in the team and the men within were protective of the females. Apparently, that protection was limited to outside the group. Jay didn’t mind it though. Honestly, he was happy there were so many people who cared about Kim. If that meant he had to deal with a little more third-degree he would take the tradeoff.

“I do not doubt it. And if I do- I'll let you.” A silent understanding passed between the two. It was broken by the bartender setting a bright orange drink on the bar. Jay pulls out his wallet fishing out a few bills before handing them to the server. “Thanks, man. Her next drink is on me too.”

“A Bloody Mary,” Trudy told the man who nodded and pulled a short thick glass. Jay laughed as he shoved his wallet back into his pocket.

“I should have guessed.” He tapped the bar top before grabbing the drink and heading back over to the table. Trudy kept facing the bar but watched in the mirror. She watched as Kim turned in her seat as Jay approached her, their fingers grazing as she took the glass from him. She watched Kim’s chair slide closer after Jay sat down closing the distance between the two of them. Her hand went to his thigh as he threw his arm over the back of her chair.

The bartender set her handsomely garnished drink on the bar as he spoke, “Ah, to be young and in love again.”

[ranhaitanisgf]

Hi! Headcanons of “delinquent and class president” with Senju and “stolen bag”. Someone steals your bag and Senju helps get in back for you. You decide to treat her for some bubble tea to thank her. Thank you.

— senju kawaragi (akashi) // delinquent & class president // stolen bag

☆ ˎˊ˗ hellooo thanks for requesting senju !! i luvvvv writing for her omg :D i think the senju lovers r gone from the fandom cause i never see any fics abt her .... its ok tho im here to revive senju love bc she deserves the world ! hope you all enjoyyy xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ gn!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 1.1k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

❥ coming out of school, you were already dog tired, having run around all day doing errands and completing your responsibilities as class president, (sometimes you wonder to yourself why you ran for the position). all you had on your mind was going home and flopping on your bed for a while, and who knows, maybe you would even make a nice snack and watch a movie! 

❥ you probably should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy, especially after the day you’d just had. 

❥ as you were walking out of school, you got shoved to the side, feeling your bag get yanked from your shoulder. you managed to balance yourself enough to not fall, which gave you a perfect view of the punk who had just stolen your school bag off your shoulder, running away snickering. all you really could do was sigh; of course this was happening to you. why wouldn’t it?

❥ you were too tired at that point to try and chase the culprit, much less even yell for someone to help, (really, do people ever actually help in these situations?). you weren’t sure what this punk thought he was going to get out of stealing your bag; all you really had in there were class notebooks and class budgeting documents you were taking home with you to complete. if he wanted to complete all your work for you, then he can be your guest for all you care. 

❥ you were ready to just continue your way back home, but out of the corner of your eye, you noticed someone sprinting in the direction of the culprit, wait no, how is this person running so fast?!

❥ you watched in the distance as the person roundhouse kicked the punk, grabbing your bag from his fallen body and casually walking back towards you. you just stared at them in shock, realizing who the person had been once they got closer to you.

“no way…senju-chan?!” “yo! i got your bag back, (y/n)-chan!” 

❥ all you could do was stare at the girl in front of you as she held it out to you; there were so many questions running through your mind at the moment, though the first question you had was is she wearing a gang uniform?!

❥ after your moment of shock, you decided to put all your questions aside. no matter how she did it, senju had gotten your bag back from you, saving you from a lecture from your teacher about losing class documents. you gratefully accepted your bag from her, trying to think of a way to pay her back. 

“ahh, you really didn’t have to get it for me! i’d already accepted it…”  “nonsense! i won’t allow anyone to dishonor my beloved class president!”  “haha, i think you’re exaggerating a bit, but thank you, truly. actually, are you free right now?” “hmm, i think so…? why?”  “let me treat you to a meal as a thank you!” 

❥ and so the two of you set off, casually chatting as you searched on your phone for a nearby place to take her to. you kept repeating to yourself in your mind that this is not a date, that you were just treating her as a thank you! after all, she helped you out in a big way, so this is normal, right? 

❥ the two of you eventually ended up at a boba restaurant; although you knew that this was definitely going to hurt your wallet, you just couldn’t say no to senju’s pleas when she saw the place, talking about how she’d been wanting to check out it for ages. 

❥ as the two of you were ordering and you saw the price kept going up on the register, you knew that your wallet would be lighter when you put it back into your pocket, (you decided it was a necessary expense, so it was fine). 

❥ when the food came out, the smell of it made you realize just how hungry you’d been from staying after school for so long. from the way senju was eyeing the different dishes, you were sure that she felt the same way, which made you feel better when the both of you started chowing down. the boba that you had gotten was especially good, and by the time the two of you were finished, there was absolutely no scraps of any food left. 

“wahh, that was so good!! thank you, (y/n)-chan!” 

❥ you’d felt a bit sad at the fact that the two of you had finished already, but you supposed that you already knew senju wouldn’t be able to stick around too long. when the two of you exited the restaurant, you began to say your goodbyes to the girl, which made her look a bit confused. 

“huh? why’re you saying bye? i’m gonna walk you home, of course!” 

❥ her statement took you off guard, especially when she was acting like it was an obvious thing to do, (were you crazy? do normal people do this after hanging out with friends?). you just went along with it, feeling happy that you got to spend a little bit more time with senju. 

❥ you had to admit that you felt safer with her by your side, especially now that it was getting a lot darker out, (seeing her roundhouse kick someone like it was nothing highly contributed to this). at some point during the walk, she looped her arm with yours, happily continuing with your conversation as if she hadn’t done anything. 

❥ when the two of you arrived to your house, you thanked her, bowing in gratitude for her getting your bag back for you. she’d brushed off your thankfulness, saying that it was nothing, she was glad to help! she started going on about how she would never let anybody dishonor her class president and favorite classmate, and that nobody would be bothering you now that she had claimed you, (what was she talking about? actually, you’re not going to ask). 

❥ before you went into your house, senju suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you a bit closer to her. her lips pressed against your cheek for a moment, giving you a peck. she pulled away a moment later, giving you a big grin and saying that she would treat you on your next date. 

“bye bye, (y/n)-chan! i’ll see you tomorrow!”  “wait, senju?! come back- ah, she’s gone…”

❥ you stood for a moment, staring at her as she ran away, watching as she faded into the distance. while that wasn’t exactly the outcome you had been expecting…you supposed it was okay for now, (you were absolutely over the moon). 

❥ you were definitely going to be having a talk with her tomorrow.

[winters-dream]

“Villain stop,” pleaded Hero for what felt like the hundredth time. “You don’t have to do this.”

Villain just ignored their words and pulled their wallet out of their pocket, pulling out more hundreds than Hero could count. They held the cash out to Hero, prompting them to take it but Hero refused.

“Take this,” said Villain. “It should be enough to cover rent for the next few months.”

Hero shook their head and pushed Villain’s hand against their own chest. “I’m not taking your money, I don’t need it.”

Villain huffed through their nose, a sharp sound indicating their frustration. “Hero, you’re seconds away from getting evicted. Just let me help.”

Hero opened their mouth to speak but Villain beat them to it. “I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer on this.”

Hero huffed out a breath of air. “You can give it to me all you want, I won’t use it. I’m doing just fine on my own. I don’t need help.”

“Just take the damn money. Why is it so hard for you to let someone take care of you for a fucking change?” Hero could see the anger flashing in their eyes. They shoved the cash into Hero’s hand, forcing them to close their fist around it. “You’re so stubborn sometimes. It pisses me off. You’re so worried about everyone else's wellbeing, you forget about your own.”

Villain’s grip on Hero’s hand was firm, their grip tightening before letting them go. “Accept the help that’s offered to you.” 

Hero sat the money on the coffee table, a question burning at the back of their mind. “Why are you helping me?”

Villain paused. That was a good question, why did they care so much about the wellbeing of their enemy? Why did they rush to Hero’s apartment to come to their aid the second they heard of their situation? If anything they should find joy in Hero’s suffering, kick them while they’re down. But here they were, standing in their enemy’s living room, ensuring they could pay rent for the next six months.

“I don’t know,” they said. “Maybe I’m not as horrible as you’d like to think.”

Hero sent them a knowing look. This one good deed got no where close to balancing out all of the crimes Villain had committed. 

“I guess thanks are in order then,” said the hero. They rubbed their hands together as if they had to wipe something off them. This whole thing made Hero’s skin crawl; they hated needing to rely on other people, especially with money. Guilt washed over them as Villain sent them a smile and backed away to leave. 

“I’ll pay you back,” Hero called. “Every penny of it, I’ll find a way to pay you back.”

Villain softly shook their head. “You don’t have to worry about that. Money means very little to me.  I don’t want you to hold this over your own head.”

“I insist—”

“And I insist,” interrupted Villain. “I don’t want you to waste your money trying to pay me back. This isn’t a loan. I’m giving this to you.”

“You’ll want me to pay you back in some form, just tell me what you want.”

“I want nothing,” Villain sighed and ran a hand down their face. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that I’m just doing this out of the kindness of my heart?”

Hero again gave them a pointed look. They could easily point out that they were in fact a villain, but they knew that would be unfair of them. And they knew better than most that when it came to heroes and villains, it was never black and white. Far from it. 

“Nobody does something kind for nothing,” they said. “Everyone expects something in return.”

“Not you,” said Villain. “You never expect your kindness to be repaid.”

“That’s different,” Hero said. “It’s part of my job to do good without expecting anything in return. During training, a hero is taught to expect nothing, not even gratitude from the people we save.”

Hero subconsciously looked around their apartment, Villain could see a trace of resentment in their eyes. “But we’re not saints, we’re just as selfish as everyone else.”

Villain shook their head. “That’s not true, you’re different. You act selfless even when you’re in civilian mode. You find genuine gratification in helping others. It’s one of the things I admire about you. You don’t spoil Supervillain’s plans to look good in front of the world. You do it because you have integrity.”

They wave their hand at the money at the coffee table. “Take the money, and don’t try to pay me back. I don’t want you to.”

Tears pricked at the corners of Hero’s eyes as they pulled Villain into a hug. They couldn’t even begin to explain the relief that flooded over them. 

“Thank you,” they whispered.

Slowly, Villain wrapped their arms around the hero and returned the hug, their shoulder damp from the hero’s tears. They thought about the amount of trouble they’d be in if Supervillain found out they were helping the enemy. They wouldn’t be very happy with Villain and this act would probably cost them a good amount of trust. 

Villain sighed through their nose and rested their head against Hero’s, silently cursing themself for putting themself in this position. “Of course.”