#i should have KNOWN he was pocketing that one to drop on everyone at an opportune moment

[ballroomnotoriety]

sionnach, confidently: cats forget their owners' faces in three days

literally six other people at once: says who?????

sionnach: dragon ball super

[jaylver]

SLUT! — P.JS

synopsis: experiencing love in your last year of high school was totally unexpected, especially when it’s the fact that you had fallen for the boy everyone wants. what you weren’t prepared for was the troubles that came with it. however, you were willing to pay the price just for the sake of love. 

pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader

genre: acquaintances to lovers, high school au, romance, angst, coming of age (?)

warning(s): profanities, (slight) slut shaming, underage drinking and partying

wc: 6.7k

a/n: last fic of 2023! thank you for all the support 🫶 a little piece dedicated to everyone and also those who loves this song equally as much as me! please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

Finding love was the last thing you had on your list right now.

It was the final year of high school. Everyone was freaking out over the fact that they were growing older and their time in high school was over. The Californian air couldn't be any more duller after that. Senior prom and graduation preparations were already starting even though it was just the start of the year. What was stopping them anyway? 

Being a teenager was art, but what they didn't tell you about growing up was the process of falling in love. 

It was torture. Witnessing people in love all around you while you struggled with advancing past the talking stage. No, it wasn't fair. However, having cupid strike its bow at you unexpectedly one day was the worst of crimes.

You know the embarrassing feeling when you see your classmates outside of school? Right. That was how you felt the moment Park Jong Seong walked into your mother's clinic, your eyes widening behind the counter. Must you be responsible for the counter at this very hour?

“Hey—Y/N?”

Jay was a classmate. You didn't really know him and neither did he know much about you. It was just neutral, where you coexist in the same space until the bell rings and the day ends. You get the gist. 

That doesn't exclude the point where Jay was widely known, though. He wasn't like his popular jock friends or an athlete whatsoever. Instead, he was a studious guy who kept his reputation clean. Basically, he was your typical golden boy. You knew he wasn't completely innocent to an extent, but at least he was good at hiding it. 

There is no denying that everyone wants him. He was a nice guy paired with strong, distinct features. It was no secret he was also known for his looks and caring manners.

“Jay? What are you doing here?” 

He was wrapped in a thick hoodie, hands hidden in his pants pocket. “Caught a cold. I thought I should drop by to see a doctor and get some medicine,”

“Oh no,” you tried your best at giving a concerned expression, though you were busy skimming through files on the laptop. “Do you have a record here?”

“I do. Not my first time,”

You tried for his full legal name instead of ‘Jay Park’ and thankfully, his record showed up. “Found it,” you glanced up just to find him staring back at you. This was probably the first time you were this close to him, enough to be able to distinguish the moles on his face.

“I'll call you in a bit,”

You did what you always do every time, inform your mother and call the patients in. But Jay wasn't just another patient to you. When you called his name, you watched as he got closer, casting you a sweet smile right before he disappeared behind the door, leaving you to your seat at the counter, overthinking the littlest details that you knew you'd have to spill to your best friend after.

Jay waited patiently by the counter once it was time to pay. His gaze followed your every move as you got his prescribed medicine and stuffed them carefully into a bag. 

“Here you go,” you passed the bag over, then accepted the cash he had been holding for a while. “Thanks,” you muttered, taking the chance at avoiding eye contact when you slipped the cash into the register.

“Thank you too,” Jay said, immediately gaining your attention. He was still managing a smile even though you could tell he was shivering slightly. 

“No problem. Rest well,” you took a piece of candy from your own bowl of personal sweets stash. “Here,” 

“Candy?”

You nodded, humming softly. 

“Thanks,” his voice was quieter, sounding as if he was in disbelief. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes twinkled, a hint of fascination lingered. “I'll see you around, Y/N.”

“See you.”

That night, you laid awake replaying the encounter you had with Jay. It was the first time you've ever talked to him, and it was barely anything, but you somehow understood why people liked him by then. Not like you didn't like him initially, you meant, romantically.

It was definitely an odd place to meet and talk to him. Out of all the possible places, it just had to be your mother’s clinic that none of your peers came to once, that was until him. But somehow, it was the right timing despite the location. It was the wrong place at the right time.

Who knew his cold and your candy would soon start something neither of you expected.

“Do you wish you made out with him or something?”

Telling Yunjin about it was probably the best and worst idea. Sure, she could be a great moral support, except she lacked filters when needed.

“What the fuck—no!” You glanced around, hoping none of the passing students heard your stupid discussions. “He's hot but not like that, at all,”

“So you admit he's hot!”

You rolled your eyes, chucking the bag of Doritos back to her. “I never said he wasn't,”

“You intended it, said you didn't get the ‘hype’ around him,” 

“Until now!” You threw your hands up in surrender, only getting a cackle from Yunjin as a response. “Whatever. It's a one time thing. He's out of my league. It's a whole ‘You Belong with Me’ music video type of situation excluding me being friends with him,”

“You're yapping at this point,”

“Thanks, I know,”

“It's not that serious, Y/N. You fighting your life trying to defend yourself only makes it seem like you're in denial,” why must she always be on point?

“Whatever, whatever,” you waved her off, stubbornly ignoring what she said. “I'm at the back of the line anyway, I should be worrying about graduation and college,”

“Oh right!” Yunjin physically jumped, her backpack shook. “I need your opinion on something.”

That whole Jay discourse had swarmed your head that was currently leaning against the window. You purposely picked a seat by the window at the back of the class, hoping for some space to think since it was a class you didn't have with Yunjin. 

“A dollar for your thoughts?”

To your right stood Jay, shouldering his backpack and offering a warm smile. You knew you shared this class with him, but to have him walk up to you at that very moment was something beyond unexpected.

“Hey,” you greeted rather stiffly, not knowing what to do now that you were put under the spot. “W–what are you doing standing there?” Facepalm.

“Oh—do you mind if I sit beside you?” He pointed at the empty seat next to you, and you shook your head. You usually sat with random classmates anyway, having no close friends in this class was a struggle. 

Jay's face broke into a smile of relief, plotting his bag down before taking a seat. “Thanks, I don't really have anyone I know here,”

“You don't?” That's weird. You always noticed how people naturally swarmed around Jay's table, either greeting him or chatting with him.

“Not really. None of them are really my friends,”

But you were?

“You're a friend to me, though,” he added, as if reading your mind at that instant.

You were taken aback, but you hid it well, masking it with nonchalance. “Really?”

He nodded, a sincere smile that told you he meant it. You let yourself loose this time, reciprocating his smile. “I'm honoured,”

“I'm even more honoured.”

Throughout the class, you didn't miss the occasional glances from him and neither did you stop yourself from looking at him. He was much more breathtaking up close. Who were you to deny that?

By the end of the class, the bell rang and everyone started to pack up, some already rushing out in a hurry. You, on the other hand, was too caught up in your headspace to notice Jay was already done tidying up beside you and was waiting for his queue.

“Uh—Y/N?” he tapped you on your shoulder, stealing your attention at once. You stared at him expectantly, blinking with curiosity behind your eyes.

“Yeah?” You dragged the word out slightly, packing your last book into your bag.

“Would you like to go to a party this weekend?”

A party? That'd be your first.

“Where's that? Can I bring my friend too?”

“Yes and it's at Jake's house,” he winced, forgetting you're not one of those frequent party goers. “I'll text you the details—wait, I don't even have your number,” he laughed awkwardly, which only made you smile.

“Real smooth, Jay,” you signalled for his phone, and he grabbed it out of his jeans pocket without saying a word, eyes following your move as you typed in your number. 

When you handed his phone back, he didn’t hesitate to press the call button. Obviously, you heard your ringtone coming from your backpack. You glanced at Jay, giving him a face that was saying ‘really?’, quite incredulous that he’d doubted you. 

“Just wanted to be sure,” he smiled, scratching the back of his neck out of awkwardness. “I’ll make sure to text you,” he held his phone up, waving it a little and slowly getting up from his seat, to which you followed suit. At that moment, the classroom was already almost empty, so it was just a few lingering students with you and Jay, but it all felt like you were in a completely different universe altogether.

“Cool,” 

“Cool,” Jay echoed after you, and you resisted yourself from laughing. Apparently he noticed your tight smile and smiled along with you. Wordlessly, you two communicated through each of your smiles even as you walked side by side out the door. 

“Which way are you going?” he was quick to ask, eyes shining with expectations.

“I’m going that way,” you pointed to the right, down the busy corridor.

“Oh,” Jay visibly faltered, the expectations he held behind his gaze were crushed. “I’m heading that way,” he pointed to the left, the opposite direction of where you’re going. 

“I guess that’s it for today,” you patted his shoulder, unbeknownst to how Jay had froze under your touch for a second. “Until our next class together, then,”

“See you,” he waved, gradually backing away.

You couldn’t help but grin. “Bye!” 

You watched as he walked away, his back now fully facing you. It took you another beat before your feet were willing you away to where you were meant to go. But what you failed to realise as you concentrated on your steps was Jay turning his head back to catch a glimpse of you, his head only filled with the thoughts of you.

He’s so screwed.

Staying at the library was the last resort for you once you got to know Yunjin had an impromptu extra hour class after school. She promised she'd take you to the pool, considering the weather was only getting hotter day by day. But you suppose it'd have to wait for now.

What was worse, the heatwave or high school? Trick question.

The library was mostly empty by this hour, only a couple of students remained to either study or chill around just like you. It was one of those times where you wondered why you didn't explore more. As you wandered along the towering shelves filled with old books, you caught sight of an interesting looking one.

Instinctively, you pulled the book out of the shelf without thinking twice. But what caught your eyes wasn't the cover of the book or the book itself in general. Instead, it was the pair of eyes staring back at you through the small gap from where the book originally sat.

The most surprising bit of all was you knew and recognised who those eyes belonged to. Jay.

Your eyes widened, so did he once he saw your reaction. For some inexplicable reason, you stood up straight, unknowingly fixing your hair out of a nervous habit. 

You were nervous? It's just Jay. No, wait, that's probably why. It's Jay. How were you not going to feel nervous around him?

Quick, think! Were you going to find him in the next aisle or run away. Maybe not the latter. You turned on your heel and walked forward, deciding to find Jay and greet him out of courtesy. 

You were just about to turn the corner when you stumbled into the man you were looking for, perfect. Actually, not perfect. The moment you crashed into him, you stumbled into his chest and his hands flew up to catch you, the book originally in his possession dropped to the ground with a firm thud.

There you were, literally in his arms and looking frenzied. His wide eyes matched yours. It took a few beats and a moment for your mind to formulate what's happening for you to finally push yourself from him, absolutely flustered from embarrassment.

“Hey,” you dusted your front in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks.

“Hi,” he replied rather breathlessly, mirroring your rosy cheeks.

The book that fell to the ground suddenly became unimportant to Jay, but to you, it was a mark that was burning into the precious floorings. You moved fast and picked up the book, yet you weren't quick to hand it back, instead you took a look at it.

“Pride and Prejudice?” You noted from the old cover, then glanced at him, a glint of interest sparked. “Didn't know you're like that,” you extended the book out to him. 

He took the book back into his possession, smiling rather sweetly. “Literature is the death of me,”

“Isn't it a selective subject?”

“It is. I was an idiot for thinking I could hold on,” he rolled his eyes, making you giggle softly.

“I'm sure you will. You're—like—Einstein smart,”

“Are you trying to stroke my ego right now?” He crossed his arms, leaning onto the bookshelf ever so casually.

“No, I'm just pointing it out. You literally rank in the top 5 every year! It's annoying,”

“Is it so?”

“Very much,”

“Should I be flattered? I'm flattered,” he bowed dramatically, unable to hide his smug smile. It was your turn to roll your eyes, shaking your head at him. He only let out a laugh at your reaction. “What are you doing here at this time anyway?”

“Oh—Yunjin, my friend, had a random impromptu class so she had to stay back. I was waiting for her since she’s bringing me to go swim, but now I don’t know if that’s happening,”

“You could always stop by my place for a swim,”

You blinked, head tilting to one side. “What?”

Jay seemed to have become embarrassed judging from the reddening tips of his ears that you were (thankfully) oblivious to. “I have a pool, and my parents are out of town for maybe a few months or so for work, so it’s practically unused,”

“What about your friends? Don’t they go over to swim?”

“They do, but they’re looking to take more advantage of it by wanting to throw a party soon since my parents are away,” he grumbled in the last part.

“Well, are you?”

“I guess? I don’t mind it,” he hummed, bright eyes flickering to you. “Will you come if I do?”

“If I’m invited,”

“Obviously you are,” Jay said matter-of-factly, eyebrows raised. “So what do you say?”

“Sure,”

“Great. I’ll hold you to it,” he snapped his fingers, and was basically beaming now. It only made you form more visible heart eyes. “But for now, I’ll see you at Jake’s party,”

 “Deal.”

That day, you left the library with a lovesick smile instead of a book. You didn’t even get annoyed after knowing it was too late for a trip to the pool, and obviously Yunjin caught onto that. On the walk home, you thought about him and the party. Anxiety and anticipation were both building up, until he came up in mind again and everything disappeared.

You got lovestruck and it went straight to your head. It was almost the first time you’ve actually felt the way you’re feeling now, nobody had once made you fully experience every emotion of having a crush in your years in high school. No one was even capable of it, that was until Jay appeared into your life. 

Going to bed that same night, you thought of him again. At that point, you wondered if he would materialise in your bedroom from the amount of times you had him in your head. Maybe he’d be accidentally manifested into life. 

Tossing and turning, you kicked your feet at the imaginations you had of him. Upon realising your own behaviour, you covered your face with a pillow and screamed into it. Were you crazy? Oh my God, you were! 

Then it hit you.

You’re admitting this now. You like Park Jong Seong. 

“I can’t believe we’re here,”

Yunjin was currently having the best of her life even though nothing has happened yet and you both had just arrived at Jake’s house. 

The walk in was already shocking. On the lawn of Jake’s house were knocked out drunks, then by the door were people making out and doing weird things you didn’t want to think of again. You were surprised that everything happening before you was something you’ve seen in movies and you were actually experiencing that now. 

“Is this even … legal?” you glanced around, cringing at the tacky set ups and badly picked music in the background.

“No. But you’ve drunk before, so who are you to say?”

“Touche,” 

Wandering further into the house, you realised there were many people here, but you weren't surprised at all. Jake was a well known footballer anyway, how could he not be popular in the first place?

"Y/N!"

At the sound of your name being called, you looked over your shoulder to see Jay approaching you. His eyes carried the same kind of brightness he has around you, the corner of his lips were curved up into a wide smile. Let's not forget how he has his hair styled up at that moment. Was he expecting you to not feel anything?

"Jay! Hey," you waved meekly at him until he was standing before you. You noticed his gaze on your friend who was standing beside you, a look of unfamiliarity clearly written in his expressions. "This is Yunjin, by the way,"

Yunjin and Jay both greeted each other amicably, though a little awkward but it was natural for it to be like that. Jay turned to look at you, eyebrows raised. "This would be a great chance to introduce my friends but—"

"Jay!"

"I take that back," 

You and your friend exchanged a brief look, stifling your laughter at Jay's demeanour. He was flailing his hand to get his friend to come closer, and by then, you could recognise who it was. 

"Bro, why were you running around all night? Were you expecting someone—oh, hey," Jake, the host of the party and the popular footballer, had finally taken account of you and your friend's presence. "I'm Jake, nice to meet you,"

"Likewise, I'm Y/N,"

"Yunjin," 

"Y/N and Yunjin, you guys are new faces around here," 

"It's not really our scene," you nudged Yunjin a little, and she nodded in agreement. It's true, you and her equally preferred a night in with a romcom playing than this. But you'd make it an exception this time, and maybe the next time for Jay's party. 

"You're always welcomed. Any friend's of Jay or friend's of Jay's friend are welcomed to our party," Jake patted Jay's back, while the latter only rolled his eyes at his friend.

"Jake! Your toilet's clogged—" another one you recognised to be a part of the friend group appeared out of the blue. It was Sunghoon. Star hockey player and basically every girl's crush, he was known for his wits, charming good looks, and crazy hockey skills, duh. 

If you told yourself from months back that you'd somehow become friends with Jay and meet his friends, you'd think you're crazy. 

"Hey, sorry," Sunghoon winced, but gave Jake a pointed look after. Jake scoffed in annoyance, then left with a huff and a wave of goodbye to you and Yunjin. "Sorry 'bout that, I'm Sunghoon,"

"I'm Yunjin," when did she become this bold? Whatever it was, you were willing to support her.

"I'm Y/N," 

"You're Y/N?" Sunghoon gasped quietly, glancing between you and Jay, interest forming in his head.

Jay slapped the back of Sunghoon's head, and in the midst of the latter's grumbles, he could only smile awkwardly at you. "Shut up," he hissed to Sunghoon.

"First, ouch. Second, whatever," Sunghoon bumped Jay roughly with his shoulder. "Wanna get some drinks?"

"I'm fine, I'll pass. Maybe Yunjin can go along with you?" You eyed Yunjin, and you saw her giving you those 'i owe you my life' type of eyes. 

"Sure," Sunghoon smiled at Yunjin, but gave Jay a firm nudge, his gaze alone conveying the message. Apparently bro telepathy was a thing, because in a few seconds, he decided Jay was staying with you and wandered off along with your best friend. 

"It's just us two now," you said, as if it wasn't already obvious. 

"Yeah," Jay was equally stiff as you were. "Sounds crazy, but do you want to go up to the room? It's a little loud here,"

"I don't think it's 'a little' but totally, sure. Lead the way," you figured Jay was familiar with his way since it was quite literally his best friend's house.

He wordlessly took your hand and intertwined it with his. It was so casual and sudden that it was unexpected, knocking the breath out of you. He made sure you were walking in front of him the whole time, hand never leaving yours and only gripping tighter as he held you close to avoid the crowd. 

In a world of boys, he was a gentleman. 

He eventually brought you to a quiet room down the hall upstairs, into a bedroom that was decorated much simpler. You guessed it was the guest room, it would've made most sense. 

"Do you normally bring girls here?" 

Jay's face contorted into a mix of shock and disbelief, arms thrown into the air. "What—no!"

"Really?"

"What makes you think that?"

You shrugged, taking a seat on the bed. "I don't know? Well, everyone wants you—"

That was your crime.

"—you're popular, smart, cute, kind and—am I talking too much?" You paused, feeling the bed dip beneath you as Jay joined your side. 

"I like it," he hummed, turning to look at you. "I like you,"

You blinked. One second. Two seconds. 

"What?" Your eyes were widening, whereas Jay was just staring back calmly with an unwavering smile.

"I like you, Y/N," the confession rolled off his tongue like a secret he has been keeping for too long. The eyes that were searching for yours were filled with longing and hope.

Was this really happening right now?

"I like you too, Jay," 

It felt like the world had stopped and it was just you and him there. You were taking in his confession and so was he. It might've been silent but it was comfortable. 

"Can I—" he leaned in, but stopping just an inch away from your lips. You could feel his breath on yours, noses making contact. That was how close he was. 

"Yeah," 

Just before Jay could press his lips against yours, the door burst open and you jumped, literally. You heard a thud too, and realised Jay was on the floor. 

You turned to look at the door, finding the culprit standing there awkwardly. It was Jake, and he, too, was self aware that he had crashed an important private moment.

"Uh—I just wanted to find Jay…"

"Jake, if you don't close that door right now, I swear—"

Jay didn't even need to finish his sentence when Jake slammed the door shut, yelling out 'sorry's and saying he'd be waiting for Jay down the hall. Talk about awkward encounters. 

You locked eyes with Jay, who looked thoroughly embarrassed but also humoured. It didn't take long before you burst out laughing and he joined along. Soon, he returned to his original spot next to you too.

"That was … bad,"

"It was," you were fidgeting with your hands, suddenly nervous. "I guess the timing wasn't right,"

"It really wasn't,"

Silence fell between the two of you, and there was something in your mind that was bugging you. "Does this mean we're …?" You didn't need to finish what you were saying for Jay to get the meaning. 

"I mean, do you want to try it out first? We don't need to rush into anything, don't even need to be official. I just wanted you to know how I feel," 

"I can do slow," you nodded, catching a brief glimpse of Jay. 

"I'll always be waiting for you," Jay took your hand in his, and that was when you finally had the courage to meet his eyes again. "Whenever you're ready."

People say dating the popular guy was a bad idea, but for once, you were willing to let loose and give your heart a go.

Who knew the start of your newfound romance would soon blossom into a whirlwind of tears, love, and scandalous teen romance.

"So you're dating him now?"

Having Yunjin scream into your ear in the morning during the first period was not surprising. Maybe telling her everything over the phone and leaving her hanging wasn't the best idea. It wasn't your fault she was hungover anyway.

"Shush! Do you want everyone to know?"

"I'm sure everyone knows by now,"

You gave her a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"Jake kinda saw you guys, then he blabbered it to Sunghoon, and I guess others heard it because he was not quiet about it,"

Jake. You heaved a sigh, shaking your head a bit. "We're not boyfriend girlfriend official, but just … trying things out, you know?"

"I know," Yunjin let out a satisfied hum. "I think he'd be great for you,"

"Really?"

"He's a nice guy, Y/N. Judging from his reputation, he seems like a good man," Yunjin practically gave you her seal of approval, and it left you feeling happy for the rest of the period.

That was until lunch break where everything fell apart way too fast.

Walking out to the cafeteria, you didn't think much about anything else as you listened to Yunjin rant about her latest online purchase. But the moment you heard Jay's name along with yours in passing, your ears perked up. You thought nothing of it, leading up to Kim Minjeong confronting you head on and you knew that's when you should start worrying.

"Are you … the one with Jay?" 

You glanced at Yunjin for a split second, anxiety bubbling in your stomach. "I guess?"

"You're a slut. Don't you know I have a thing for him? There's something call girl code—"

"Woah woah, wait, what? Look, we don't even know you like that," Yunjin quickly butt in upon seeing you fall silent. 

"Everyone knows me! Everyone knows Jay and I had a thing! What is it you want? His popularity? Money—"

"Shut up," 

Speaking of the devil.

"You okay?" Jay appeared by your side, gaze softening once it landed on you. "I was searching for you, didn't know this is happening,"

"I—"

"Jay! What are you doing? Why are you with her—"

"Can you just quit it? We've been through this many times, Minjeong. I don't like you and I never have, why can't you just accept it?" He sounded exasperated, almost as if he had been putting up with this for ages. "Put my girl's name out of your mouth and leave her out of this. She's the one I want, not you,"

The only way you could describe Minjeong's face there was rageful. Her expressions were contorted and her lips were etched into a frown. She knew she couldn't defend herself further, so she eventually left with a huff.

It was quite unsalvageable at that point and you felt yourself breaking down from the inside out. Even when Jay called your name, you only shrugged him off and brushed past him. The worst part of all: he didn't run after you either.

Great. Now you were going to spend the rest of the day mulling in bed.

That didn't last long either. Once you got into bed, ready to sleep away from the day's incident and think back to Yunjin's pep talk, you heard your phone buzz. Not once, but multiple times. Who was sending messages at that time? Of course, it had to be him.

jjongster: hey, can we please talk?

jjongster: like right now

you: right now?

jjongster: yeah, send me wherever you're most convenient to meet

This was stupid. Sneaking out of your room when it's dark out and meeting Jay down the street from your house. All when your emotions were not stable and set yet. You've sent him the address and now he's waiting there, standing by his car like a dream. 

"Hey," he called out softly as you walked closer to him. 

"Hi," you hated this, the sudden stiffness and awkwardness that got between you two, you shouldn't be suffering because of it.

"Sorry for asking you to come out this late," he was quick to apologise, taking a step closer to you. He was always so nice, so kind and loving. "I–it's just eating me up, and I really wanted to tell you—speak to you—in person. I wanted to see you,"

"It's okay, I get it. I'm sorry too, for leaving so abrupt and ignoring you. That was wrong of me to do," you were feeling guilty about what you did earlier, letting your emotions get the best of you and neglecting Jay.

"I understand, don't worry. Are you feeling okay? I didn't expect that to happen, I'm sorry,"

"Don't apologise, it's not on you," you brushed away the strand of hair that constantly fell onto your face, occasionally avoiding his stare. "And I don't know. I don't know how or what to feel,"

He frowned. "Tell me, tell me what's on your mind,"

"Jay, what if this was all a bad choice? You're you, and I'm … me. You're the golden boy, everyone wants you! Now they're talking behind our backs and all I do is hear rumours that aren't true, names being called …"

"It's not a bad choice, Y/N! I want you … so much. No one else compares. Can't you see that?" Jay moved closer to you, his hands now on both your shoulders. "Don't push me away now,"

Jay was taking his chance, and you thought it was a big mistake, but he doesn’t. It might blow up in his pretty face, and you didn’t tell him straight on to do it anyway, yet you knew he was going to and he wasn’t going to care what others think.

"I could never," you shook your head, welcoming his embrace as he pulled you in, and before you knew it, the tears you held in all day started streaming down your cheeks.

He held you there on the pavement as you broke down in his arms, his hold on you never once loosened. There that night, under the starry sky and illuminating street lights was a connection and trust formed unknowingly between you and him, love that blossomed like a flower in spring. 

"Gosh, I probably look stupid right now crying," you chuckled, pushing yourself slightly off of him to glance at his face. 

"You look pretty, gorgeous to me," his thumb travelled to your cheeks, wiping away the tears that remained. 

"I shouldn't have said that … us being a bad choice," you said quietly, cursing internally that you've even doubted it in the first place. "I trust you, Jay, I do,"

"Thank you," his hand travelled down to hold onto yours, a smile ever so soft. "We'll go at your pace. Whenever you're ready,"

"Whenever I'm ready." you repeated, unable to stop yourself from smiling either.

Jay knew he was already in deep, experiencing feelings he's never felt before in his eighteen years of life, but seeing you then, made him realise maybe young love was something to believe in. For once, he had a love to fight for. 

Jay was true to his words. He, in fact, did throw a party at his place. But what he didn't tell you was the cleaning up, and boy, was it a headache.

Once everyone had filed out a little after midnight, it was only you and Jay left. It was peaceful. In an empty house that had music blasting in the background, you and Jay each struggled to pick up all the rubbish strewn. You liked this. You like him.

It might've taken a while, but eventually you had the place cleaned, or at least, rubbish-less. There was probably more deep cleaning needed (that was for the next day to worry about). However, for now, it was finally just the two of you, and a whole lot of space with nothing to do.

"Wanna go for a dip?"

"Now?" You glanced at the clock, then back at Jay, who was trying to convince you with his starry eyes and nodding his head like an overly enthusiastic puppy. "Fine."

You didn't even know why you agreed to it. It was a lucky decision you brought an extra pair of everything since you were staying over. 

Jay was already in the pool, floating around when you walked out. The light coming from the pool was the only thing providing light. Blue reflection and wet messy hair made Jay increasingly dreamy, till the point where you stood there for a bit too long and he had to call for you.

"Coming!" You huffed, but the moment you reached the edge of the pool, you found yourself stuck and feeling nervous. 

The sight of Jay's bare front and your lack of clothing was nerve wracking to even think about. Your mind was in a fuzz even as you accepted his hand and let him pull you in, the cool water invading your senses. 

His arms came to wrap around your waist, the only thing you could hold for support was his bicep, so that was what you reached for. Jay didn't mind, he only held you tighter, a conspiring glare glazed over his eyes.

"Hey," he tilted his head, gaze travelling all over your features. You were close, very close. It was almost as if you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

"Hi," you whispered back. Your hand was on its own journey, absentmindedly moving to his shoulder.

You should be dying out of anxiety by now, or even freak the fuck out, yet, you successfully kept your composure, in front of a hot man. Hooray!

"How's the water? I swear it's clean. I gated it off before the party,"

You laughed, remembering how Jake was so insistent on keeping the pool part of the party. He claimed that a pool party was way cooler than just a regular party. Jay was not convinced.

"It's nice. Chilly," 

Jay nodded for a bit, pursing his lips, thinking for a beat. "I'm glad you were here today,"

"Why?"

"I just like having you here, that's all,"

"You're so cheesy, it's annoying," you joked lightheartedly, knowing you secretly enjoyed this side of him.

"Whatever, you tolerate it anyway,"

He was right, you did. Over the few months, you've grown to memorise and remember every part of Jay. His habits, his likings, et cetera. It was crazy how your relationship grew with time, but the much crazier part was the fact that you two had not gone official yet.

"Against my will,"

"That's a lie,"

"Whatever you say," you said in a sing-song tone, which only made Jay roll his eyes, reaching up to pinch your cheek. 

His gaze never left yours, not even once. It was trained on you, always had been and always will be. The eventual silence got to you, and it was just the distant noise of the water that filled the air.

It was one of those moments where you think 'was this real'. Spoiler: it was. He was testing the waters, you could tell, and you let him. 

Jay inched a little closer, eyes flickering between you and your lips. It was obvious that he was nervous from the shaky breath and wavering confidence, but it only made you more relieved. 

You let out a breath, meeting his lips halfway. At first, he was shocked, you were too, but for different reasons. Kissing him was a breath of fresh air. His lips moved against yours naturally as if it was his first instinct, like he has been waiting for this for ages, which was not entirely wrong. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss and you swore you felt yourself imploding.

The moment you two finally pulled away to catch your breath, you could only stare at him and hold onto him tighter as if you were afraid he might not be real. Jay chased after your lips, pressing haste pecks and smiling into every one of them. It was infectious, everything about him was and it had you intoxicated. 

You realised at that second that you’d be willing to go against the world for him if you had to. Even if someone called you a ‘slut’ again, maybe it’d be worth it for once, and you knew he’d always be right there to defend you.

“I'm ready,”

“Hm?” he was still in a haze, eyes staring back at you with more than love in them.

“I’m ready to be yours, Jay, I’m serious,”

“You are?”

He has never been so relieved and happy leading up till that moment, just having you in his arms was about to make him burst. All he needed was to see you nod and watch your lips mouthing ‘yes’ as a confirmation before lifting you up, arms tight around you. 

Under the moonlit swimming pool, you’ve never been happier.

The night might’ve already ended for others, but to you and Jay, it was still ongoing, and you wished for it to not end. So, there you were, in his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he lay beside you. There was barely any space between you and him, his hand brushed against yours from time to time, neither of you dared to move from your original position. 

Half asleep, you were taking your time to do something. You took the chance to move your hand closer and gently made contact with his. It didn’t even take a beat for him to lace his fingers with yours, his grip ever so firm, calloused skin against yours. You could tell Jay was equally drifting in and out of sleep as you were, mind in a haze but awake enough to comprehend that you were next to him and not a figment of his imagination.

“I’m in love with you,” 

It was faint, almost a whisper, but a mumble that was audible came from Jay. You turned your head to look at him, even under the dim lights, you were able to see that smile from him. The one that always made him look like a lovesick fool, that his friend would claim he’d have whenever he talked about you; it was a smile only reserved for you, and you were the cause of it too.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled out, eyes remained shut, but the smile stayed. 

“Goodnight.” 

There in the bed slept two young lovers, a fresh love that was unbreakable that connected the two of you together, all of it was fated. From the clinic to now, it might’ve started at the wrong place but it surely was at the right time, and you were glad to be next to him, hand in hand, anticipating what the future had in store for you two. 

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

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[abibliophobiaa]

a blurb of elena seeing eddie on stage for the first time, she’s got her big ear defenders on and is bouncing away 🥺

a blurb from the ‘daylight’ universe.

a/n: before elena was born, eddie dreamed of this day. now it’s here.

dad!eddie munson x mom!reader.

——

You hadn’t really known what to expect. Nothing exactly prepared one for the life as a wife to a rockstar. Especially when still adjusting to your new title as a wife, while also balancing new motherhood.

Still, it shocked you to see all the security at the door. The men in uniforms looking garbed and ready to defend their clients if need be; a thought that should bring you comfort, but when their narrowed gazes settle on you, have your heart hammering away.

“I’m with Munson,” you tell them, bouncing Elena up higher on your hip. “I’m Eddie Munson’s wife.”

He barked out a gruff laugh. “You know how many women say that at these shows?”

The burly, bald-headed man glanced down at his clipboard, while a more…gentler looking man, aged and weathered by years, nodded his head to your daughter. “She’s a cute kid. How old?”

“Almost six months,” you told him, grinning sheepishly as her head thumped against your shoulder.

“And already at her first concert,” the man said, waving to your daughter who only babbled in reply.

“It’s in her blood.” She’d danced away inside any time you’d played music for her while pregnant, and loved the sound of her father’s voice — singing and not.

“Dad being who he is, I guess it’s expected.” The bald-headed man had spoken then, dark eyes sliding over your form as he handed you a lanyard that you draped around your neck. “Apologies, Mrs. Munson. Enjoy your evening.”

You were lead to the green room next, finding yourself greeted by all the guys and Jeff’s wife. The guys took turns fawning over the baby, making faces at her so she’d laugh, taking her off your hands. And then, just like the night you’d first met, Eddie’s dark stare caught and held yours.

Something hot flickered in your belly, Jeff’s wife’s voice a low murmur in your ear, “Go, you two have a few minutes. We’ve got the baby.”

Eddie grinned wolfishly, gripping your hand and tugging you away from the room and into an empty storage closet further down the hall. A dim bulb flickered up above, illuminating the whiteness of Eddie’s teeth as they glinted with his growing smile, his hands warm as they circled your hips and drew you in close.

“Hi, Mrs. Munson.” He’d been saying it every day since you’d made it so. Wanting to relish in the newness of your titles — of what you meant to one another. It had been a whirlwind, and still was now with him beginning the next legs of Corroded Coffin’s tour. “You’re late.”

“Someone at the door thought I was a groupie,” you huffed, breaking off into a sigh as those hands slid lower, gliding over your backside to pull you flush against his hips. “Is that a microphone in your pocket, or are you excited to see me?”

A barked laugh greeted your ears, lips pressing to the curve of your neck, teasing along delicate flesh. You shivered bodily against him, clutching at his biceps, “I told him I was your wife. Apparently you have a lot of those.”

“Only the one,” he whispered, voice a little hoarse as he dropped down to his knees and fisted your skirt. “And I love her so damn much.”

“You’re the one about to perform,” you gasped, feeling his lips at the juncture of your thighs. “You should be saving you energy.”

“Baby…” His fingers at your center, sliding in to the knuckle, choking off your air supply. “I’m giving a private performance right now.”

——

The crowd was electric, feeding off of the energy of the guys on stage. They’d finished up their set, Elena awake for all of it, cradled on your hip with an oversized pair of headphones to muffle the sound on her curly head of hair. Bleary eyes watched her father all night, absorbed as he commanded the attention of everyone around her.

He’d commanded your attention, too. Eyes trailing your husband’s form as he did the thing he was most passionate about. Those hands, those same hands that had lovingly touched you before the show, the ones that trailed your spine as you fell asleep at night, that held your baby girl strummed away like his instrument was an extension of him own self. Hands that created music that told stories, that spoke to hardship and experience, to love and anger.

And the crowd reveled in it. Soaked it up as the guys poured out their hearts and left them on the stage. Incredible — they were incredible.

“Thank you, New York!” Eddie cheered, breaking into the screaming of the crowd. “It’s been too fuckin’ long.”

Cheers of agreement greeted your ears. “Glad you liked the new stuff. Can I show you something else we cooked up while away for a bit?” The crowd roared, and Jeff’s wife stirred beside you as Eddie’s gaze swiveled to where you stood side stage. “Couldn’t have done any of it without my beautiful wife. And the newest member of the Corroded Coffin family.”

A second spotlight slid across the stage, honing in on you and your daughter. Cried ‘awwws’ greeted your ears as you waved a hand in embarrassment, Eddie rushing over to grab Elena and bounce her up onto his hip. You couldn’t even be mad that a woman screamed she loved him from within the sea of bodies, because you understood whole heartedly.

“Goodnight, New York!” Eddie shouted, lifting Elena’s hand and waving to his fans before rushing over to capture your lips in a heated kiss.

“You broke thousands of hearts tonight, Munson,” you teased, reaching up to slide your hand against his sweaty chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart against your fingertips as the crowd surged just feet away, clapping as the rest of the guys rushed off the stage for the night.

“Only two that matter are right here,” he promised, drawing you close for a hug, your free hand coming up to rest against Elena’s back. “This is all I could have ever dreamed of. You, her, this.”

“Not a dream anymore,” you said, tipping your head up to look into his dark eyes, “this is real. This is us.”

Forever.

——

[jiminiecrickets]

HONEY WILD & MANNA-DEW. JJK / M!READER

summary. werewolves are dirty, savage, brutal beasts, jungkook thinks. after nursing a particularly pathetic one back to full health and realising just how attractive he is... well, vampires have never been known to evade what they want.

wc. 3.8k

tags. smut | vampire!jk, werewolf!reader, dom bottom!jk, sub top!reader, reader is generally described as "strong", jk calls r. mutt/dog/pup/puppy (slight degradation), praise (r. receiving), slight dumbification (? r.)

notes. written for and with nick :) you know who you are. thank you for everything !! <33

"fancy seeing you here, darling."

"i'm not your darling," jungkook replies immediately, his expression souring. he throws back his glass of whiskey, setting the empty glass down on the dark counter. he spins around on his stool, leaning his elbows back against the counter as he stares coolly up at you, his eyes hard with annoyance. "excuse me, please. i think it's time to go home."

when he shifts, a shock runs through you, and it's automatic when you cage him in, arms shielding him from the outside world. your face is inches away from his, drawn into a frown. "you told me to come here. really gonna leave me alone without buyin' me a drink? that seems like the nice thing to do."

"i did tell you," he says airily, his gaze raking over your figure. the tight shirt you've donned under a jacket emphasises the raw strength werewolves are known for. "i've just changed my mind. you look better when the lights are off."

he smirks, eyes glittering coldly up at you, and he pushes your arm out of the way to stand. he's stunning in an all-black ensemble, his buttoned shirt with its rolled sleeves held together by a single brave button over his belt. he tucks his hands into the pockets of his perfectly-pressed trousers and cocks his head, gaze unwavering as your jaw ticks. "come, puppy. you'll walk me home."

as he turns on his heel, weaving with supernatural ease through the thick crowds like a ghost, you shut your eyes tightly, dragging a hand down your face with a groan.

fuck. you should head the opposite way; every instinct in you is screaming it.

he hums softly as you join his side, strolling down the neon-lit city streets. he'd never stopped walking – he knows the hold he has on you. "good dog. if only you listened so well all the time."

 you step in front of him. he glances up expectantly, placing his hand on his hip. "yes, mutt? what is it?"

"come on, darling. you can drop the façade. you aren't fooling anyone – everyone can tell you like this – like us." a smirk tugs at your lips. "say, when we get to your house... how far in would you like to go in? living room, kitchen? maybe even just the foyer?"

"quiet," he hisses. "this means nothing! we are nothing! you're a rabid dog who knows nothing except fucking and fighting!"

"really? you seemed to quite like how rabid i was last night."

he scowls, his glare deepening. his eyes flash, for the briefest moment, a dark, swirling, razing red. he leans in. "you owe your life to me, mutt. you're in no position to be mouthing off at me." he reaches up, seizing your jaw, and in a quarter of a second you find yourself pinned against a brick wall, the wind knocked out of your lungs. he presses his body flush against yours – you can feel the uncanny rise and fall of his chest, the plane of his stomach, the sturdy thighs against yours.

"what, pup? don't want to talk now?" he tilts his head, shifting his thigh between yours almost unnoticeably. you certainly do, and he smirks when your breath hitches. he leans in, baring his fangs and nipping at your neck. he whispers into your skin, "be a good boy, darling. you don't have your pack here to look good for – just look good for me. can you do that?"

your throat bobs and he tracks the motion with his sharp eyes. he waits patiently, fingers digging tighter into your skin, and you wince, inclining your head such a tiny degree that anyone lesser would miss it entirely.

jungkook hums and pulls away, releasing you. you loose a soft, shuddering breath, rubbing your jaw where his nails dug crescents into your skin. heat bubbles low in your stomach.

he smiles, sharp and fanged, and turns away. he beckons over his shoulder with a short whistle. "heel, mutt. seems like we still need to do a lot of training – better start right away."

—

"come."

it's so fucking humiliating. your entire face is aflame as you shuffle forward, your hands clenched at your sides, trembling slightly with the pain of your nails digging into your palms. your cock stands at attention, dark and heavy, and jungkook hums, taking it into his hand. your eyes squeeze tight in a futile attempt to ignore the way he twists his wrist so expertly – and he does it all with a demure smile, knees crossed neatly as he perches at the end of the bed.

the bed. big enough to fit both of you comfortably. a dangerous sort of hope blooms in your chest. maybe he'll finally let you touch him.

"that's my good boy," he coos, stroking you to a quick beat as he watches your every move. no twitch or flinch goes unnoticed. you're trying so hard, and lust warms his chest where his heart should beat. "let's try this again. sit."

you kneel at his feet, your head bowed. your hands close into fists on top of your bare thighs as he kisses the top of your head, stroking the place where your ears would be, had tonight been a full moon. it wasn't – not for one more day. you found yourself growing antsy, staring at open green parks and forested areas with more longing than usual.

you shudder as he digs his fingers into your scalp, massaging deeply. you swallow a moan, but it comes out half-choked as a white shudder zings down your spine. you barely suppress a whimper when he strokes your hair, petting you as if he loved you. you can feel your thoughts struggle – you make a valiant effort, concentrating on forming clear and logical sentences in your head.

and then he scratches you behind the ear. everything melts. you whine softly, pushing into his hand as you grip his legs. as soon as his hand halts, your brain catches up, and you yank away, defaulting to a proper sit.

he sighs, and the sound makes your heart leap in distress. "puppy..."

"no," you blurt out, an embarrassing shake to your voice. "no, please, i'll be good – i will! don't start again, please don't start again..."

he smells so good. like sweet, sharp wildberries. you like wildberries.

"very well," he breathes. "off."

you reach for his shirt, unbuttoning it with shaky hands. he watches you carefully and you swallow as you lock eyes with him, pushing the cloth over the lines of his shoulders. you tuck it out of his belt and sit back on your heels, folding the garment neatly into a square and setting it aside. you gaze expectantly up at him.

"good pup," he whispers, before rising to his feet. you will yourself to keep your eyes on his and not on the cute bulge five inches from your face. "off."

you suck in a deep breath as you unbuckle his belt deftly. you've done this enough times by now to do it in one motion. gently, you drag the cold black zipper down, hovering your hands over his skin as you tug his trousers down his long legs. the black cloth falls. he's not wearing any underwear. your mouth feels dry.

"you're doing so well. bed," he murmurs, stepping back until the backs of his knees touch the foot of the mattress. you crawl over him, hovering steadily as you stare down at him with rapture and painful anticipation. your cock hangs heavy between your thighs, right between his legs, but he ignores it, propping himself up on an elbow. the other hand trails between his thighs.

"ah, fuck..." he whispers as he slides a finger into his already-loved ass, soon adding a second. he begins to finger himself, soft breaths and gasps falling from those perfect rosy lips. he notices the darkening hunger in your eyes. "stay," he orders firmly, his voice breathy but not unsteady. "stay."

you can't breathe. you've tried this thrice before and all three times you failed to get further than this. it wasn't fair. he kept changing the order of his commands.

his widens his legs, hooking his ankles around the backs of your knees. his back arches as he moans, lashes fluttering shut as his expression goes lax with pleasure.

the lube makes things wet and filthy. your arms shake, crumbling under the pressure of the sight of him touching himself. nothing you do keeps the addicting sound of his moans out of your head.

"fu-uck," he drawls, inserting a third finger. his whole body shudders, his thighs pressed firmly against the sides of yours. he opens his eyes, gazing up at you with eyes of cut rubies, flashing in the semi-darkness. both of you are night-dwellers, creatures of the dark and cold night. you can see every pulse and twist in excruciating detail.

jungkook moans your name in a breath, his fingers sliding easily against his walls. nothing fills him up as well as you do, but he'd rather die than admit it to you. he shifts in his fancy bedsheets – oh, how deliciously wrong it feels to taint them like this – and wraps his slender fingers around his leaking cock, stroking himself slowly in time with his quicker fingers.

you watch, paralysed. your cock throbs at the sight of his pretty ass clenching around his fingers, and your hips rock involuntarily. it leaks precum embarrassingly steadily, pooling on a spot on his bedsheets.

jungkook smirks, moans soft and airy like pants for air. "stay," he says warningly when you begin to fidget, restless as you admire the curves and planes of his body. his thighs tighten around yours, keeping you steady. your fingers flex.

you can practically smell his lust. his cock throbs in his palm, wet and slick from his prior games. a spurt of precum dribbles down his shaft and he swiftly sweeps it up, smearing it along his length with a greedy moan.

fists clenching in the sheets, you close your eyes stiffly, thinking of anything but him. anything except him and his pretty smirks and lithe body and tight little—

"open your eyes," he commands, and they fly open. "want to touch?"

"yes," you rasp, your throat bobbing harshly. "yes, oh, fuck – yes, i do..."

"mm, well, you can't," he teases. "hah – you look so fucking pathetic, did you know that? so big and strong, and yet reduced to near tears because of someone like me. you must be ashamed of yourself, mutt."

your hips jerk at the title. a tiny keen escapes your lips. jungkook laughs, his hands quickening as his voice grows softer, airier. "ooh, that was almost a restart right there. oh, darling, your pretty cock's all swollen and needy – you look the best like this, trembling for me as if you're a young pup all over again."

all you can do is whine, your cock throbbing hotly with need. fuck, you can feel it all the way up your spine – the need to be inside of him, the need to show him how good you are, the need to prove that you're his. all and entirely his.

"it's okay, puppy. you're doing so well," jungkook breathes, watching with satisfaction as a droplet of sweat rolls down your heaving chest. your expression is starved and dark, brows furrowed with an almost beastly intensity.

you're just so cute. he can't help but want to shower you in praise. he shouldn't – you're just an unruly mutt, uncontrollable and savage when the full moon comes around. he's leagues above you on the food chain.

he shouldn't even be entertaining you like this – not when your kind are known for their quick-to-love natures. if he goes a step too far, you'll be all over him, all the time. all over his black clothes and antique vases. wolves are notoriously hard to shake off once they've developed a liking for someone.

he slides his fingers out of himself with a soft moan, reaching for your dripping cock. you flinch when he slides his palm over the tip, breathing growing shaky.

"i see why they call you monsters," he whispers with a smirk. he tugs his lower lip between his teeth, a single white fang bright white against the dark pink of his lips. "you want to claim me with this, mm?"

you nearly buckle under the fog filling your skull, his touch cold and burning. he hums, relaxing in the comfortable weight of your heat, radiating from your skin as if there's a star in the place of a soul. fucking a vampire in the filthiest ways could never begin to challenge how good it feels to simply be near you, engulfed in the blazing heat of your embrace.

him, with his icy skin and fanged sneers... you, with your cocky smirks and frequent, flirty touches. it's a match made in hell and escaping it seems awfully counterintuitive.

"please," you whine, bucking into his fist stiffly. "want... w-want you – baby, please—"

"i'm not your baby," jungkook reminds you with a sharp flick of his wrist. his thumb runs along the pulsing veins he knows are most sensitive. "i'm not your darling, not your baby. i never can and never will be. do you understand, mutt?"

you nod feebly, grunting as he squeezes the base of your cock in warning. "i un-understand..."

"better." he guides the head of your cock to his ass and your breath hitches as your tip rubs against his wet hole, sending shocks of heat up your nerves. "go slowly. i want to feel all of you."

his face pinches as you thrust in shallowly, the inches sinking in with ease. your slick cock glides against his soft walls, pulsing tightly against them. he gasps as you nudge that spot inside him, swollen and tender with his playing. "fuck, puppy, right there!"

your cock twitches at the breathy keen of his moans. you gnaw on the inside of your cheek, gently thrusting in until he's taken all of you. your balls press against his ass and he shudders, ass clenching like a vice around you.

you can't help it. you whimper his name, thrusting faster, and he grunts in surprise. his eyes fly open.

"f-fuck—! did i tell you to go faster?" he demands. "dumb mutt! do you want to do this all again?"

"no," you groan, your hips stilling. you shift over him, powerful thighs tense and trembling beneath his. "n-no..."

he grabs your jaw and tilts your head up, forcing you to look him in the eye. arousal burns low in his belly at the sight of complete and utter want dominating your expression: lips parted, throat bobbing constantly, eyes glazed and dark. your tongue darts out and runs over your lower lip, leaving a pretty sheen in its wake.

"good," he says eventually, and shifts his hand. it goes from clawing at your jaw to cupping your cheek, thumb swiping over your lips. you tilt your head and take his thumb between your lips, sucking gently as you stare up at him. those pretty eyes of yours are hazy and shimmery, as if you're on the verge of tears.

holy hell. jungkook releases a slow, steadying breath. having a man like you in the palm of his hand isn't doing anything for his superiority complex – you're really something else.

"move," he commands, his glare piercing you like a bullet through jelly. "what are you waiting for?"

you drop your head, shaking it with a gasp as he clenches around you. "i – i can't..."

"you can't?" he repeats, scoffing. "what's wrong with you, mutt? i give you an opportunity to please me, but you can't?"

a soft, embarrassed whine leaves your throat. your fingers itch to touch him – to hold him, to caress him, to worship him. all that pale, graceful, flawless skin, and not a single mark of your love. sure, it'll vanish in minutes, but you can fool yourself into thinking that it'll remain for weeks under his prim and proper black clothes.

"i can't," you whimper. "i'll... 'm gonna come..."

a short silence passes between you. then: he barks a laugh, sharp and derisive. "really? you're that excited from being told what to do? oh, my poor puppy... you're so adorable. i just wanna sink my teeth into you," he coos, his arm snaking around your shoulders. the other hand slithers over your ribs, down your side, across your back. he squeezes your ass, pulling you deep into him. he grins as you throb inside of him, cock leaking profusely. "go on, then. touch me, pup."

in an instant, your hands are on him, learning him in ways so devoted it surges affection in the hollow of his chest. they run down his stomach and thighs, then back up again, cupping his chest around his upper ribs. you grip him like a toy, gently bouncing him on your twitching cock, and he moans, high and breathy, tugging you closer into the crook of his neck.

he really does smell sweet. you can't tell if it's his cologne or his shampoo, or if he just smells like that all of the time, but it's heavy, it's heady, and you can feel yourself getting drunk off of his scent. you tug him down onto your cock, grinding into his ass, and he grunts, grip tightening on your shoulders.

"you fill me up so well," he moans, wrapping his thighs around your waist as you fuck into him. "fuck, a-ah – you're such a good boy for me, huh? such an eager boy, so – mnh! – so obedient for me... make me come first and you'll be rewarded, okay? i-i'll reward you so well, fuck, my good boy—"

he squeaks as your hips quicken, slamming into him desperately. he cries out in pleasure, nails digging into the bulk of your shoulders as you smother him with your body, your face buried in his neck as he moans and cries. the wet smack of your cock against his ass each time you bury yourself hilt-deep inside of him is dangerously obscene, white-hot and buzzing his nerves.

"what—! what are you—" he can't bring himself to chastise you. your thick tip punches past his swollen prostate on each thrust and he mewls, slanting his mouth against yours hotly. he moans as you overpower him, your tongue diving into his mouth as his fingers tangle in the baby hairs at the back of your neck. his fangs nick your lip until blood and you groan, long and low and greedy.

he widens his shaky legs, his heels digging into the small of your back as he yanks you hard into him. you groan, deep and pleased, and slide an arm under his spine. your hips rock hungrily against his ass until the bedframe shakes.

"sorry, 'm sorry," you mumble, over and over again, warm breaths puffing against jungkook's collarbone. your head spins. the faraway guilt lays heavy over your mind like a blanket and the pleasure fires threads of heat through your whole body, aching and greedy. arousal pulses low in your belly. "'m so sorry, f-feels too good, you feel so good—"

"y-you stupid mutt!" he cries, his leaking cock bouncing on his belly. he slaps your side weakly, knuckling the raised trio of scars that cross your chest and stomach. you grab his wrists and pin them above his head, palms flat against the soft, pale insides of his wrists. you're dizzy with it, the way he sucks you in and refuses to let go. "s-slow down, nngh, i-i'm—!"

he seizes up, sides tightening as his cock spurts. his ass clenches and swallows you whole, his staccato cries and moans burning permanently into your brain. with one last thrust, you empty yourself inside him with a drawled whine, pulling his body flush to yours. he's so cold – it soothes your sweat-slick skin and you rock yourself against him, mind numb to everything but the white-hot pleasure concentrating in a tangled mess at the base of your cock, swollen and hot and dragging forcefully against his vice-like hole. it stretches for you, pink and hungry.

jungkook groans breathlessly, the mess on his stomach dripping down his sides. it soils his bedsheets. he tilts his head towards yours, his breath cold against the shell of your ear. you shudder, still filling him up, and he admires the way your muscle flexes under your skin with each panting breath.

eventually, he leans back against his pillows, his muscles aching pleasurably. his thighs loosen around your hips and you slowly pull out until just the tip, feeling cum drip out of him, and lazily push back in, fucking your cum deep into his ass. he moans, holding you chest-to-chest.

"wh... what was that?" he croaks, his voice strained from the volume of his cries. "fuck, puppy, you were doing so well..."

"n-no! i was good!" you bury yourself in his neck, breathing in his scent to calm your thudding heart. "you came first, i did what you told me to do! i was good, i promise."

"i told you to be gentle," he groans, slapping your chest. "bad dog."

"you take that back," you whine. "'m not bad!"

"no."

"take it back," you demand. he arches an eyebrow. you wilt. "please..."

"fine," he relents, "but only if you do something for me."

you perk up, eyes bright with interest. hell... how you can be so energetic after such a thorough fuck, he has no idea. "yes?"

he pushes lightly on your hips, pulling your cock out, and rolls over onto his stomach. he props his cheek on the backs of his hands, gazing up at you through heavy-lidded eyes over his perfect shoulder.

he smirks, wiggling his hips. "fuck me like this, mutt. you can be as rough as you like, but there's one rule."

"a rule?" your stare is trapped on his ass and the way his hole leaks your cum. it scratches a deep, animal itch inside you.

"mhm." he arches his back slightly and grins at the soft gasp you let out. "you can't touch me."

you glance up, wide-eyed. it's criminal how innocent you look. "w-what?"

"you heard me, puppy. no touching. if you can make me come without touching me, and without losing it yourself... well, i can think of a few fun things you can choose from."

"yes," you agree instantly, eyes pinned on the way his ass presses against your cock. you place it between his ass and he rocks his hips, grinding against it as he pins it to your stomach. "fucking hell, yes."

"good." his eyes glitter, somewhere between malice and mischief. he grins playfully and traces his fangs with the tip of his tongue, tasting your blood. he hums as you eagerly push back in, groaning at the slick feeling of his soft insides. "no need to rush, love. you don't want to fill yourself up with the entrées, do you? we'll be here all night long..."

[kybercrystals94]

Six Weeks

Read here on Ao3!

Whumptober 2024 - Day 22 - Prompts: Bleeding through Bandages // Reopening Wounds

Rated: T (for mentions of injury) | Words: 1391

“You have two choices, captain. You can spend the next six weeks in medical under the careful watch of a medic to make sure you don’t do anything stupid; or, you go home for six weeks and let your brothers make sure you don’t do anything stupid.” 

Omega rolls her eyes. “You forget it was my brothers who taught me most of my ‘stupid’ stunts, Hera.” 

“Maybe,” Hera admits. “However, one look at your injuries, and I have a feeling they’ll become the most insufferable mother nexus you’ve ever seen until you’re cleared for active duty.”

“That’s not a feeling, Hera,” Omega groans, trying to shrug into her jacket with her one good arm, “That’s a kriffing fact. I’m never going to hear the end of it when they find out what happened.” 

“You haven’t told them yet?” Hera gasps, helping Omega thread her injured arm through the other sleeve. 

“Of course not. If I did, they’d be storming the base right now demanding to see me. It’s not like I’m on my deathbed, Hera. I crashed, I survived, I’m fine.”

“Your definition of ‘fine’ needs work.”

Omega slides off the medical cot, favoring her left leg. “I’ll take that into consideration while I’m forced to lie around for a month and a half.” 

“Good.”

As Omega starts to limp out of medical, Hera stops her, pulling her into an embrace, carefully avoiding Omega’s cracked ribs. “I’m so happy you’re alright, Megs.” 

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Omega mutters with a grin. 

Hera laughs. “Don’t give your brothers too much trouble, got it?” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

**

On General Syndulla’s orders, Omega is not allowed to fly herself back to Pabu. Instead, she is being transported by a shiny new recruit everyone calls Iggy, for whatever reason. They land in the middle of the planet’s night cycle, Omega directing Iggy to the cave that typically houses her own ship when it isn’t being held hostage by Hera. 

“Need help with your bags, captain,” Iggy asks as Omega pushes herself unsteadily to her feet. 

Omega waves him off. “It’s one bag, and I’ve got it. I’m not a complete invalid.” 

That makes Iggy grin. “Understood, captain.”

Despite protests, Iggy does help her down the ramp and hovers as Omega gets her footing on the uneven cave floor. He tries to convince her to let him walk her up to the house, but Omega insists that she’s fine. She finds one of Batcher’s long pieces of driftwood the hound has a habit of hoarding in the corner. “See, I’ve got a walking stick, I’ll be fine.” 

“If you’re sure,” Iggy relents. He gives a sloppy salute. “See you in six weeks?” 

“Six weeks,” Omega agrees. 

Omega watches him off, leaning heavily on her makeshift cane. Somehow, being so close to her brothers and their anticipated mothering makes her feel less valiant about her wounds. No matter how old she gets, how experienced she becomes, she feels like a child again with her brothers nearby to protect her. 

As she makes her way up the worn path, her injuries make themselves known. The laceration on her thigh pulses under the bandage, her sprained shoulder and elbow ache in her sling, her cracked ribs throb with every intake of air. Maybe she should have let Iggy carry her bag. 

Omega focuses on her surroundings, the familiar sound of nighttime breathing around her, the muted roll of waves on the beach. The scent of fresh air and sea laced with the sweet smell of local flora. How many dark nights did she sit with her brothers, watching the stars and listening to stories? Countless nights leaning against Hunter or Crosshair or Wrecker until she fell asleep to the rumble of their voices, to then be coaxed awake to go to bed. 

When she finally makes it to the back door, she pulls out the key already tucked in her coat pocket, and makes her way inside. She drops her bag by the door, propping her stick next to it, then limps as quietly as she can to the kitchen. She hopes to find leftover supper put away, or, better yet, cookies in the corner cupboard. 

She checks for the cookies first and finds them, plucking the box from the shelf and putting it on the counter before turning to get two cups. Right on time, the kitchen light clicks on, and Omega smiles. 

“Omega?” Hunter asks groggily. 

She doesn’t turn. “Took you long enough,” Omega says lightly. “Hungry? I was just making myself a snack.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?” 

“I wanted it to be a surprise. Did it work?” 

Hunter snorts. “We would’ve waited up for you if we’d known.”

“Exactly,” Omega says, moving to get out the milk, “you old guys need your sleep.” 

She hears Hunter step closer. “Omega, are you injured?” 

“I’ll be alright,” Omega says, but her body betrays her and she nearly stumbles on a side step. 

Hunter catches her bad elbow. 

The pain is immediate, and Omega tries so hard to stifle the cry that reactively comes. It only partially works, the sound escaping like a shrill whine in the back of her throat. 

“What–where are you hurt?” Hunter demands, withdrawing his grip but stepping closer. 

Omega leans against the counter, waiting for the wave of pain to fade. “Uh, that’s not a short list,” she grits out. 

“You need to sit down,” Hunter says. “Did you walk all the way here from the cavern?”

“Yeah, not the wisest decision I’ve ever made,” Omega admits. 

She finally turns around, letting the light expose her visible injuries. She hasn’t looked in a mirror recently; however, she knows must look even more awful than she feels. The look in her brother’s eyes confirms it. 

His expression tightens. “You should be in a medical bay.” 

“Well, it was that or this, and I’d take an opportunity to visit my brothers any day.” Omega lifts her good arm, and Hunter brings it over his shoulder, taking most of Omega’s weight as she hobbles into the common room. Omega is thankful he doesn’t try to carry her. 

Once she’s settled on the couch, Hunter looms over her. “Well, I’d like that long list of injuries now.” 

With a sigh, she gives it to him, doing her best not to gloss over pertinent details. When she gets to the laceration on her leg, Hunter looks down at the bandaging. “Looks like you reopened it with your little hike from the beach,” he says, and Omega glances down. A small bloom of blood stains the careful wrap. 

“Kriff,” Omega curses. 

Hunter massages the bridge of his nose, heaving a lung deep sigh. “I’ll check it over and get it re-wrapped. We’ll send for AZI in the morning.” 

Omega nods, sinking into the worn cushions. “Okay.” 

Hunter stands up, but before he leaves, he rests a hand on Omega’s head, calloused fingers tousling her hair. “It’s good to see you, kid.” 

“You too,” Omega returns softly. 

She knows her brother will take care of her, just like he always has. 

**

Omega wakes to sunlight pouring through her window. Miraculously, neither Wrecker or Crosshair woke up during the night while Hunter redressed her wounds and got her situated in bed. She can’t even remember Hunter turning out the bedroom light before she fell asleep. 

She turns her head and sees an old comm unit on her bedside table, a torn piece of flimsi propped against it. Do not get up. Call if you need anything it says in scrawled letters. Omega rolls her eyes and smiles. 

“Do you think she’s awake?” Wrecker’s version of a whisper practically rattles the door. 

“If she wasn’t, she is now,” Crosshair hisses back. 

Omega’s smile deepens. “I’m awake!” she calls out. 

The door flies open, Wrecker’s exuberant presence filling the room. “Megs! Why didn’t you tell us why you were coming?” he cries. 

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Omega says, laughing, moving to push herself up on her good elbow.

Crosshair is leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest. “Liar. You just didn’t want to tell us you crashed a stolen TIE fighter.” 

“It’s a good story, I promise,” Omega assures him. 

The ex-sniper smirks at her. “It better be.”

END

A/N: I actually had a little bit more written for this; so I might add a second part if I get that portion finished ;-;

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★  𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔. + 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. sometimes you feel a bit guilty admitting that your best friend's father is the one for you.

─── ☆ notes. gonna be leaning more towards au type fanfic after this as a thank you for 9k! i feel kinda bland not being able to write in the genre of fantasy after my king!eren fic lmao . | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | dilf!toji | older man/younger woman | age gap | secret relationship | hookups | corruption kink | height difference | teasing | mocking | finger sucking | handjobs | oral sex | throat fucking | cum swallowing | title inspo by this song.

dilf!toji, who everyone knows is too good looking for his middle age, his clean uncaring dark looks and deep dangerous smirk make many people the victim of his smart charm.

He could have anyone wrapped around his finger whenever he had pleased yet lived to humble himself with only a few causal partners. Cutting said women away whenever the relationship would threaten to get too serious, commitment not much of his strong suit. 

Which was why the older man should have known better than to entertain you, his son Megumi’s best friend.

It was usual for your group of friends to come to his home, using his living room as a lounge spot with the rest of the group on the weekends, taking a break from college life to collectively lounge in comfort at the breathtaking penthouse the full-pocketed family called home. 

During those said visits, dilf!toji never seemed to fail at catching your eye no matter what you were doing. Seemly struggling with some mental battle trying to not make it seem as if you weren’t some horny freak that would constantly eye fuck your best friend's very handsome and seemly always shirtless ab toned father.

dilf!toji, who despite his better judgment starts taking a liking to the young girl that had no issue surging through his snack pantry, yet wouldn't be able to hold a conversation without stumbling over your words or struggling to hold eye contact with him. 

dilf!toji who loved catching you off guard leered around from your friends peering eyes and watching you fidgeting over his looming towering figure, finding out just what alluring comment he could think of next that would make you turn into a flustered mess.

Maybe that’s why dilf!toji had found you so intriguing—the shy little thing that would so confidently whisper about how hot he was to your friends, knowingly confessing the lewd things you wanted to do with the man that was just a wall away. 

Yet the moment you happened to be alone with him, you would be seconds away from turning into putty. 

"We should hurry," you mutter against his lips, a gasp following after as his canines swiped against the skin of your neck and his lips pressed against you, trailing down to the peak of your collarbone.

"When did you become so impatient?" dilf!toji only says this to tease your eager state, proving his point with his move as you back him against the kitchen corner, pressing against his chest before dropping to your knees. 

It was a sight to behold, the soft spoken house guest now with your fingers untying the lace of his sweatpants. "I thought I taught you better than that," dilf!toji continues with a hand caressing the softness of your face.

Tilting your head up to look at him as his thumbs wander around the wrap of your plump lips, sighing at the warmth of your tongues pressing and sucking against the digit.

dilf!toji leans back and watches the dick eager monster he had created tugging down his sweats and boxers, eyes his erection almost close to drooling as if it were the first time you had seen his veiny length in its full glory. 

He couldn't help but smirk, knowing he had taught you just how to please him and just how much he loved it when you kissed his tip and dragged your tongue on the underside of his hilt before wrapping your lips around him and gagging, trying to take him down your throat. 

"Woah, slow down, baby, I'm not going anywhere." It was faux concern laced in his low, grave cadence, his hands trailing up to the side of your skull, finding a nice resting place for them as he thrust against your mouth.

dilf!toji, who, despite chastising you so many times about your loud whines, needs to be quieter while his son is asleep just down the hall, yet loves the loud intruding noise filling his home with the wet suctioning noise of your moans around his dick. 

With tears beading your waterline, you used your hand to stroke what you could fit in your mouth. He loved seeing you like this, all needy just for him.

"Can’t take it all, sweet girl?" dilf!toji would taunt, mocking the whine that would tug deep from your throat in arousal with a false pout.

"Look at you, so fucking needy, can’t even last a second without touching yourself," he cursed, grunting at the sight of your hand split between your spread legs. The insults would have been the icing on the cake if you weren't so deterred from getting him off first.

A woman on a mission, you beckoned him farther down your throat, giving him a look of permission while bracing yourself against his thigh.

dilf!toji hadn't spent much time putting two and two together, taking over the pace and fucking your throat at his own will.

You wanted to feel something other than the bubbling hot pleasure building up between your legs: anger, shame, or even guilt for having a thing for your best friend's dad, let alone agreeing to spend the night knowing that it would be easier for you to have a moment alone with dilf!toji now that the universe had just given you the perfect excuse.

You always knew the next morning was bound to be brutal from dilf!toji’s gruff assault on your throat, his thrust only getting rougher as he adjusted the grasp around your skull, grunting more and more as you tried to unknot the trembling orgasm that threatened to approach from your pleasuring hand.

It doesn't take him long, considering the feeling of you swallowing and humming against his length, cumming down your throat at the sight of you trembling around your fingers, egging on your own orgasm.

Struggling to swallow down most of his mess, humming and swiping your mouth with the back of your hand once he had pulled out.

You had no time to feel guilty, especially while dilf!toji lifted you on top of the kitchen island and buried himself in between your legs, lapping his tongue against your already sensitive pussy. 

You wanted to go back in time and pat yourself on the back for being friends with Megumi, knowing that it meant his father would be pushing aside your panties and fucking you against his marble counters.

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[siconetribal]

Put it on My Tab (18)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Warning:

Things as they should have been

A/N:

Thanks for patiently waiting! I had a safe and easy flight, but the jet lag was a real troublemaker. But now I'm back, less brain foggy and ready to type. Without further ado, here is the next part!

Please comment/like/reblog. If you’d like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know! I'd also greatly appreciate it if rebloggers remember to add the tags (or some at least).

As always, a huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, please check out the master post for the rest of the chapters.

Another day, another round of unreasonable customers not paying attention to the orders that are being called, and another coffee order from the caffeine fiend who has been showing up almost daily. The handsome young man caused quite the stir with the female employees, each rushing to be the one to take his order, only to be rejected. There was only one person he ordered from, and the one barista was Y/N. She did not know why or when this little routine started, but it was well known throughout the shifts. One customer came in on days only Y/N was in and only ever ordered from her. The idea would have been flattering if his level of consumption was not so concerning, and him obviously being younger than her and well off.

And he’s another Wayne. I think I’ve officially had it with Waynes. She let out a heavy sigh as she rang up her current customer. How long had it been since she last saw Jason? She wondered for the seventh time, looking at the digital date on the register. That awkwardly magical night to end it all was now two weeks behind her and not a single word from him. To be fair, I haven’t exactly reached out either, but what am I supposed to even say? I didn’t exactly ask him for pocket change, and he paid for dinner and made sure I was inside the building safe. Could he have just not been so great so that I could continue to hate him for some reason and move on with my life? It’s all his fault, clearly! She grabbed a cup, stuck on the label, and placed it in the queue before moving onto the next customer. 

Citlalli heard her sigh again and visibly frowned. The night Y/N came back with the money was a shock. The two of them stared at her phone and refreshed the app screen several times, expecting it to all vanish like it was some sort of glitch and error. Come the next day, it was still very much there, which meant they were now debt free. They refused to celebrate just yet. Y/N transferred the money to her bank, it cleared in a few days. Y/N called the hotel and paid the rest of the charges over the phone. The hotel register must have been ancient because it felt like forever until the little ding sounded to let everyone know the transaction was completed. A copy of the receipt was emailed and with that, it was done. Seeing the bill as paid in full was such a sight to behold that Citlalli even began to tear up. They were back to where they were before the coffee fiasco, which was far better than being behind. 

Everything was back to as it should be, or it should have been. Y/N was different. She was more relaxed now that she could drop a good number of shifts and others could cover, but there was a listlessness to her. Her motions were robotic, and she barely reacted to crazy customers who were prone to yelling or causing a scene. If anything, her lack of reaction made the tantrum thrower feel awkward, and they quietly just moved along. Maybe it was an adrenaline crash? A constant flight or fight mode was finally shut off and her body was simply trying to recover. The last time she had seen her like this was the time her cousin got them tangled with the Penguin. Citlalli was no better, the two did what needed to be done to keep the bills paid and their heads on their shoulders. 

“Oi, chica, I’ve been calling your name for the last ten minutes!” She snapped her fingers in front of Y/N’s face. “Are you going to give me an answer or what?!”

“Huh, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” She jerked her head back as the sharp sound brought her senses back into focus. The long day of work had come to an end and neither of the two were on the night shift, so they returned home and began to relax and unwind. “Answer what?”

“Where did you get these and when were you going to tell me?!” She firmly tapped her finger on two identical rectangular pieces of paper that magically appeared on the coffee table. They were not just simple waxy slips, either. They were a nice weight that had a lovely deign with a date and time stamped on each with the name of an upcoming charity gala printed in cursive and the famous W logo of Wayne Enterprises Inc. 

“Ah, those, well, those came from Nightwing when he left me a tip. I don’t think he meant to give them? At least, that’s the only thing that makes sense. I’m sure Bruce Wayne meant for him to have them to attend. I just don’t know how to go about returning them. How does one call a nighttime vigilante without lighting up the sky with the Bat Signal?” She pointed out the issue she was in.

“Three weeks,” Citlalli scowled. “Nearly a month of holding onto these, and you never once thought to tell me?! They were just laying there on the kitchen floor near the trash! Were you going to throw them out?!” She shoved her face in front of Y/N’s, their noses mere inches from touching. 

“I wasn’t planning to throw them out, but like I said, there’s no way to return them!” Y/N moved her head back.

“¡Ay, ay, ay!” She stood back and hit the heel of her free palm into her forehead a few times. “We could use them! We could go! This could be how we celebrate finally being debt free!” Citlalli grabbed the two tickets and waved them at Y/N. “This is fate, it was meant to be! ¡Por Dios!” She once again dove into a flurry of Spanish as she paced up and down the small living room. From the way she waved her arms around, twirled, Y/N could only gather that the frenzied energy was excitement.

“Cici,” she firmly called out to her overly energized friend for the umpteenth time. “Don't you think these tickets are tracked? That Bruce Wayne would know which ticket is whose? So, when someone tries to use someone else's, they can cross-reference. And even if by some unknown luck, they let it slide, for whatever reason; and we take the leap and attend, we don't have anything to wear aside from old catering uniforms and whatever dresses we have for parties and dates. I’m not trying to be the buzzkill, but we’re not equipped for this.”

Citlalli looked between Y/N and the tickets several times before coming around the table and flopping down onto the couch with a heavy sigh of defeat. Y/N could only sadly smile at the scene. It hurt to burst the bubble, but it needed to be done. A somber silence filled the apartment, broken only by the noise from their neighbors or some troublemakers outside. They could officially forget about this and move on.

“My abuela can help us. She’s a great seamstress, and my tía Maribel and tía Estrella have their own boutique. It’s nowhere near Wayne level price tags, but they make good money and live in a safer city. They made my and all my cousins quinceañera dresses, too. I’m sure they can come up with something for this, or at least let us borrow two dresses for the evening.” Citlalli sat up and looked straight at Y/N.

“You’re really not going to let this go, huh?” Y/N could only sigh and shake her head. “The party is in two weeks. When will we have the time to go and try on dresses between work and my pending call to come into the precinct for a formal interview?”

“Mr. B owes us for covering all those shifts he had no one to cover for. He’ll be grateful we took off unpaid so he doesn't have to pay us as much overtime.” She rolled her eyes. “My family will even open the shop after hours just for us to look, we don't need to go during the work hours. We can buy roundtrip train tickets and spend the night there. We might not even have to call off work either, we can swap shifts with someone! This is perfect! Ok, that's what we’ll do! I'm going to go call my family and see what days are best!” Once again, Citlalli was off running and Y/N was left speechless and trying to figure out how they went from reason to a whole thought out plan.

You know what, why not? It doesn’t hurt to try. If she really wanted to go, I was going to suggest checking some consignment shops or thrift stores in the richer parts of the city. We can use that plan as backup, though. She gets to see her grandmother this way and I can say hi to her family as well. She smiled while watching Citlalli’s face light up while talking in Spanish to her family on the phone. Y/N was willing to deal with the Waynes if it meant her best friend would be happy. It’s the least I can do for all her family has done for me over the years, trouble aside.

It was done. There was nothing left to do and there was no reason to ever see her again unless he wanted to go get coffee. He was not against coffee, but he was not an addict like someone he knew. He glanced at the door as Tim walked in with a rather large cup. Jason frowned to himself, looking back down at his book, but his gaze quickly snapped back up to the third Robin. He knew that logo, it was the logo of the cafe Y/N worked at.

Why would he go all the way over there for a cup of coffee? Did he realize I kept going there for them? No, I only did that twice. He can’t have caught on to anything from just that no matter how smart he is. Maybe he liked it? It’s a popular place and he may have been scouting the area. He stared at the cup, almost glaring at it. Must be mice to not have a reason to go there and see her without a care in teh world.

“What?” Tim’s voice cut off his jealous thoughts. The second Wayne son raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re the one giving a death glare to my coffee, I think I have a right to know why.”

“I’m trying to figure out what number this one is for the day. Your coffee addiction is just starting to get concerning.” He retorted.

“I’m not a coffee ‘addict’,” Tim took a rather loud sip of his drink to punctuate his point. “I’m a caffeine-based life form and as such, I must honor the ways of my people.”“By drinking your three times your weight in coffee?” Jason snorted as he tried to stop from laughing. Caffeine-based life form? She’d get a kick out of that one. I wonder, has he met her? A sharp, stabbing pain suddenly pierced his chest.“Who am I to get between you and your crazy cult? Chug away,”  he slightly bowed his head in respect. Tim nodded in return and left the room. Jason gently rubbed the spot above his heart, frowning once more. Must be nice indeed.

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali @antiquecultist

[auroravictorium]

unraveling (k.b.)

"My head is clearly muddied, and I'm so sick of coming undone." - Aeroplane Bathroom by Gordi

Summary: when a plague claims reader's sister's life, the news is delivered in the form of a letter; when she distances herself from everyone and hides the news, kaz fears that something serious is going on until she confesses what happened. Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (established relationship - they've been together for a while, so kaz feels comfortable being somewhat close to her) Word Count: ~2.6k Warnings: loss of a sister, heavy mentions of grief, mentions of a plague, brief violence (reader strangles someone) Genre: hurt/comfort Request? Yes (@morrigan-crowmwell)

Author's Note: i'm baaaaaaack and FINALLY on break!! i hope you all enjoy this (not so) little hurt/comfort work - i promise i'm following up with a fluffy one soon :))

It started with a letter a low-level Dreg delivered while the Crows gathered to plan a job.

He passed it to you with a murmur in your ear, and with furrowed brows, you flipped it over to see the return address. It was scrawled in the corner, a few letters missing or blurred together in the author's haste to send the missive, whatever it was. Kaz knew from the surprised look on your face that you recognized the address, but the expression disappeared before the rest of the Crows could notice or Kaz could evaluate it further. 

"I'll be right back," you said quietly, rising from your seat next to Kaz and disappearing into the relative privacy of his room. Had you known its contents, you would have gone to your room a floor down and opened it privately.

When you returned, you seemed unaffected to everyone but Kaz. He noticed the troubled purse of your lips, the way you fought to keep a neutral mask in place. You avoided his gaze as you sat back down, and you hardly contributed to the rest of the meeting, your eyes on the now-crumpled envelope in your hand.

In the two weeks since the letter arrived, you had withdrawn. You didn't visit Kaz in his office, you didn't take shots with Jesper at the Club, and you weren't seen outside your room unless necessary.

When the day for the next job came, you were uncharacteristically sloppy. What should have been an easy in-and-out theft of bank information on a close potential associate of the Dime Lions was nearly botched; knocking the guards unconscious took you longer than it should have, and you almost missed the correct papers in the target's desk. When you found them, the guards were beginning to stir again, and the Stadtwatch were en route.

"What happened today?" Kaz hissed, shutting his bedroom door behind him with a firm click. He leaned his cane against the wall and shed his coat and hat, hanging them on a hook haphazardly nailed into the wall.

You didn't respond, dropping the rolls of parchment onto the crooked table in the corner. The letters of your parents' note to you swam in your vision, and you could still feel the guards' pulses slowing beneath your fingertips as you choked them into unconsciousness. Your eyes burned, and you refused to face Kaz, instead crossing to his window and sitting on the bench beneath it. You wanted to be anywhere else.

If you didn't look at him, you wouldn't have to see or bear his disappointment and anger. And if you didn't see it, you could indulge in the numbness that was easier to feel than grief. It settled over you like a coat soaked by rain: heavy, but at least it protected you from the worst of the weather.

The consequences of your indifference would rip your temporary armor from you and push you into a cold, harsh reality. Your sister was gone, a life taken by a plague brought by an unwelcome merchant to your small town. It was a truth you weren't willing to face yet. So numbness it was, even as Kaz and the letter burning in your pocket urged you to confront your grief.

"Y/N," Kaz said, watching as you seemed to go somewhere else right in front of him. What happened? What did that letter contain? His anger about the job dissipated, and worry rose in its place as you refused to even look at him. 

He dragged a chair away from the crooked table and settled beside you, stretching out his right leg to ease the ache. You didn't acknowledge him moving closer, your eyes locked on the crows pecking outside Kaz's window. 

Some said crows were messengers from beyond, intermediaries between the lost and the living. You scoffed at the notion once, the same way you brushed off the idea of Saints looking over you.

That was before you lost someone. Now, a tiny part of you hoped it was true so you could say goodbye to something. Even a damned bird.

Kaz brushed your knuckles with his gloved hand to get your attention. His eyes scanned your face, so carefully arranged in a facade of neutrality. But there were cracks in it; the wobbling of your bottom lip, how your eyes seemed to shimmer as tears brimmed in them.

Sick and selfish as it was, Kaz wondered if that letter had something to do with him. Was it a warning for her to get away? Was it a threat to her life? Was it a detailed list of every awful, heartless thing Kaz had ever done, making her fear him and regret joining the Dregs?

"What's going on?" Kaz said quietly. His earlier anger was gone, replaced by a worry that ripped away the cloak of numbness you'd shrouded yourself in. Just as you suspected would happen.

His concern left you unshielded and exposed to the tempest of grief you'd tried so desperately to ignore, to push away until it left you alone. Now, your numbness was darkening, like storm clouds rolling over the harbor and promising havoc on the city. It twisted and roiled until it was no longer numbness but the all-consuming feeling of loss.

You wished you could hide from Kaz just so he couldn't see the tears beginning to slide down your cheeks. They were hot and salty and dripped down your neck, and you wiped them away as if you could conceal them. "Don't," you said hoarsely. "Don't ask me that." Maybe he would leave it be, and you could hide again for a while longer.

But it was Kaz. He watched you unravel before him and knew he couldn't leave it be. He wouldn't.

"What did the letter say?" he pressed. Usually, he didn't push you to share your secrets. Saints knew he had his own that he refused to reveal. But he couldn't watch you fracture before him and not know what was happening, especially if he could do something to fix it.

You knew Kaz wouldn't relent until you answered. Numbly, you took the letter from your pocket and held it out, still looking out the window at the crows. They were hopping around one another, picking at the remnants of seeds Kaz had thrown out for them the day prior. 

Kaz took the letter from your fingers and looked down at it, taking in the tear stains blurring the scribbles across the page. Still, the short message was decipherable, and Kaz suddenly understood. As he read those words, he was nine years old again, grieving the loss of his brother and watching birds pick up scraps of food and trash from the streets. Kaz knew precisely what you were feeling, down to the weight on your chest that threatened to crush your lungs.

"I'm sorry," Kaz said quietly. He took your hand and brushed his thumb over the back of your knuckles. This was one of the times when Kaz wished to be close to you. He longed to hug and hold you until sleep came, so you could get a short respite from the grief and know you weren't alone. "I'm so sorry, Bluebird."

His words broke your composure completely. The tender nickname ripped a sob from your throat, and you covered your mouth with your free hand to muffle the sound. You hunched over and hid your face in your knees, losing sight of Kaz and the birds and the world around you as the currents swept you away. You broke your hand free from his, curling in on yourself as you finally let yourself cry before him.

Hesitantly, Kaz moved from his chair to the open side of the bench. He swallowed, forcing away the nagging terror that rose as he gently pulled you into him. Kaz wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you against his chest, letting you hear his racing heartbeat. It wasn't the smoothest or most confident hug, and he fought hard to battle the discomfort of having you pressed against him like this. But he was trying. If it eased your pain for even a moment, he'd bear the cold harbor lapping at his flesh and the memories of floating bodies tugging at his mind.

It meant more to you than you could tell him, and you couldn't bring yourself to question whether he was sure about this. Instead, you threw your arms around his torso and buried your face in his chest. He was warm and here and alive, and he was everything you needed right then as the dam exploded and any semblance of being okay disappeared. You sobbed into his vest as the truth came crashing down on you, crushing your lungs and making your head throb from the pain of trying to process it.

You weren't sure how long you cried. Somewhere between those initial moments of Kaz's arms around you and when you could finally catch your breath, the sun disappeared, and the stars emerged from behind the clouds. Turning your head to rest your ear against Kaz's heart, you blearily looked out the dirty window; above the clocktower in the distance was the brightest star in the sky. In your exhausted mind, you imagined it was your sister. That brought you more comfort than the legend about crows. She would've hated being a bird.

Somehow, in the warmth of Kaz's arms and with those words in your mind, you drifted into an uneasy sleep. Everywhere your dreams turned, there were crows. Sometimes your sister's laughter replaced their squawking. They dropped bright tulips on a fresh grave before flying away, their wings beating against the cloudy sky.

Kaz thought you had to be uncomfortable with the windowsill pressing into your back and your legs curled up at a strange angle. He carefully shifted, sliding one of his arms under your knees and the other around your shoulders. Then, Kaz stood and carried you over to his tiny bed. You stirred as he set you down and tucked his threadbare blanket around you. He held his breath, hoping you wouldn't wake, and he slowly let it out once you lapsed into stillness once more.

He stayed nearby as you slept, settling on the bench and looking over the city. When his eyes started drooping, he shook himself awake. When that didn't work, he grabbed a book and forced himself to read about Kerch's history.

As the night reached its darkest point and the East Stave reached its most raucous, you stirred into consciousness again. Your eyes were swollen from crying, and your head pounded. Yet the smell of Kaz, all smoke and rum and something rich, enveloped you and soothed you enough that you weren't severely bothered by your physical discomfort. 

You slowly sat up and scooted back against the wall, trying to shake off some of the heaviness lingering over you. Kaz lifted his head from where it was bent over the book in his hands and straightened up when he saw you were awake.

"Hi," he said softly. He closed his book and swung his legs off the bench. "How did you sleep?"

"Poorly." You crossed your legs and looked everywhere but at his face. This was what you'd hoped to avoid. This tense air between the two of you, the result of your inability to keep your shit together until you got to the privacy of your own room. You felt weak, unworthy of being a Crow. You wished the numbness would overtake you again.

Guilt joined the lineup of emotions, and you looked down at your hands. You were lucky they weren't stained with your friends' blood.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Though Kaz's tone wasn't accusatory, you flinched away from it. 

"I didn't want to burden you." You thought you'd be able to grieve in private without worrying the Crows or disrupting a job. Clearly, that wasn't the case; everything reminded you of your sister.

"You're not a burden to me," he said firmly. He understood your words and reasoning all too well, and he hated that he did. But you weren't a burden on him, the same way you never treated him or his failures in your relationship as such. To you, his struggle to touch you wasn't a failure. To him, your grief wasn't a burden. 

Kaz wished you would treat yourself with the same kindness you gave to him.

You kept your gaze fixed on your hands, even as his words caused your cheeks to flush. It took all your self-control to keep tears from brimming in your eyes; you couldn't tell whether they were from sadness or how he said the words as if they weren't up for debate. Like he didn't question the truth in them.

"When I was young, I lost my brother," Kaz admitted. His voice was quiet and suddenly seemed very far away. Your head lifted, and you looked at him in surprise. Kaz didn't notice, and his eyes focused on the Dekappel portrait across the room.

"He died of the Queen's Lady Plague. I got it soon after." He shuddered. He could still remember the feeling of the fever as it immobilized him, weakened him until he couldn't swim and had to use Jordie to get to shore. "There was nothing I could do, and I was alone in the city after that." His gaze finally turned to yours. "But you aren't alone. You have people who understand." I understand. "And you aren't a burden on me, so talk to me. The Crows, the Club, the Dime Lions, they can wait." 

Kaz hoped that you understood the words he wanted to say. You're more important than all of them.

Your bottom lip wobbled, and you slid out of his bed and crossed over to him. You sat beside him and took his hand, though you longed to throw your arms around him again. That was a level of physical contact he needed to initiate.

"Thank you," you whispered. Your eyes shimmered in the moonlight with more tears, and you wiped them away before resting your head on his shoulder to hide your face. You clasped his hand in both of yours and felt him lace his fingers with yours to comfort you. "I want to throw a tulip in the harbor for her tomorrow." Your voice cracked, and you swallowed before continuing. "It was her favorite flower."

"As soon as the sun rises," Kaz promised. He wished he had a gesture to offer for his brother, but Kaz Brekker wasn't known for sentimentality. It wasn't his style.

You lifted your head and wiped away a traitorous tear with the palm of your hand. "We'll bring a flower for your brother, too," you said quietly, watching Kaz's face. Was it too much to suggest? It felt wrong to not offer after he opened up to you.

Kaz's throat tightened, and he turned to look down at you. "That sounds nice." His eyes softened at the earnestness on your face, and he gently squeezed your hand to thank you.

Your shoulders loosened in relief, and you rested your head on his shoulder again, turning your eyes toward the Dekappel on the wall and watching as the moon's rays darkened the rich oil paint. The room was silent, but there was no need to fill it. Instead, you let yourself think of your sister and her tulips.

You'd start to knit yourself back together come morning.

TAGLIST: @tonberry-yodaa, @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r, @futurecorps3, @statsvitenskap, @sapphiccloud, @casualladyinternet, @d34drapunzel, @noctemys, @whitejxsmine, @so6, @franzelt

[ashleyfilm]

Seeing Clearly - Chapter. 10 Patrol

Hi Everyone! Couldn't wait a day longer to give you this next chapter. :)

Chapter Warnings: cursing, angst, talk of body image, smut, violence, blood, - Minors - DNI

Characters: Jackson!Joel Miller x F!OC Plus Size Reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel go out on patrol, he helps you feel good again. 3K

Thank you to @saradika-graphics for the book line divider. :)

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9

Chapter 10. Patrol

The next morning you find yourself walking outside the walls of Jackson with Joel Miller. How the hell did this happen? Oh yeah, you asked to be put on patrol, and he said only if it’s with him. Good lord. After the events of last night, you don’t really feel like talking which suits him just fine, you’re sure. But the longer you walk you realize he doesn’t feel as cold as usual. He walks close to you; tells you where you’re going and what’s next. You feel his eyes on you, checking on you. Maybe this is just high-alert Joel, no time to ice you out when your lives are at stake. Okay, fine. You’ll take this over asshole Joel any day.

You make your way to a safe house where you’re to check in and drop off supplies for emergencies when anyone might be stuck out here or finds themselves on their own. It’s basically a studio-sized log cabin. Just a couch, fireplace, bed and kitchen all in one room and a small bathroom. It’s fortified and locked up with padlocks that need codes to open them. Those codes get changed regularly and are only known on a need-to-know basis. If you don’t go on patrol, you don’t know them. Joel and you are to hunker down there for a few hours to keep watch see if there’s any traffic in the area, raiders, clickers or otherwise. You’ve got a walkie which is turned on to a certain channel for emergencies only and so-far, not a peep.

After about an hour keeping watch and feeling like Joel has been sneaking glances at you every other fucking second, you finally speak. “Joel, what the fuck?” He frowns furrows his brow and says, “What?” Right back to you. “Joel, you keep looking at me, what is it?” He sighs, classic fucking Joel. “Look, Ash, you’ve been quiet all day, usually I can’t get you to shut the fuck up.” You scoff and that turns into a breathy laugh, Joel looks at you with a small smirk. “Oh, Joel, you miss the sound of my voice? Is it just too quiet for you,” you say with a sing-song cadence as you walk towards him. Joel rolls his eyes and looks down at you as you approach with a sideways smile, “Let’s not go that far. Just want to make sure you’re alright.” Your breath hitches as he touches your arm and his deep chocolate eyes look into yours and you realize what he’s talking about. “Oh, you mean last night. Yeah, that was… uncool.” You say as you push your hands into your pockets and look away from him.

But then Joel grabs your chin in his fingers so softly, you didn’t know he was capable of being that soft and lightly urges you to look up at him again. “No, that last night, that was bullshit. I mean it. That boy wouldn’t know what do with a woman if he had the chance. He only said that shit because you put him in his place, which he deserved, and he was embarrassed in front of his dumbass buddies.” Joel moves his hand from your chin to your cheek and even though he looks full of anger, none of it is at you and you can’t feel an ounce of it in his touch. Only comfort, only warmth, only genuine care. “You’re right, Joel. And I’ve dealt with it before. It’s something I’m used to, and I don’t let it get to me but there were so many people there last night. I’m not used to having an audience and it just broke me down a little. But I promise, I’m fine. A little bruised but I’ve handled a fuck ton worse.”

Joel, even more angry now, walks over to the window and looks out. “Goddammit, but you shouldn’t have to be used to something like that. It’s fucking bullshit. No one should have the right to talk about your body but you.” You smile and walk over to him. Joel Miller’s a fucking feminist. Will wonders never cease with this man? As you get closer, he continues turning to look at you, “And if ever you allow anyone else to, they should be fucking worshipping you.” You stop dead in your tracks and Joel looks at you like he never has before, with so much want and desire you’re almost scared. He continues, eyes almost black now, “I heard you the other night after we talked at your place. Made the prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard. Were you thinkin’ about me, Darlin’?” Your eyes start to tear but you just blink them back, never taking your eyes off his. “It’s okay, I think about you, too. Know I shouldn’t… but I can’t help myself. Can’t get you outta my head.”

“Joel…” you whisper so quietly. “S’okay, honey, it’s just me.” Joel sits on the couch and motions for you to sit next to him. Without a thought, you obey. Sitting to his left, you wait to hear what’s next. “You wanna show me, huh? Show me what you did to yourself to make those sounds. Need to hear ‘em again.” You nod, saying nothing. “Okay, go on then, show me.” You hurriedly start to unbutton your jeans and unzip, when Joel says softly, “Slower.” Again, you immediately obey. Slowly pulling at your zipper and making room by pushing your jeans down your thighs a bit and pulling your underwear to the side revealing your already wet folds. Swollen and ready. Joel takes your glasses off and sets them on the table next to him. You hesitate and Joel senses it, “Touch her. She wants it, I can tell.” And your fingers start to caress your sensitive pussy. Slipping through your folds, gathering your slick and moving it around to coat everything in your arousal. You bite your lip to contain a whimper. “There she is. You sound so pretty, you know that?” Joel slurs into your ear and goosebumps breakout all over your neck as you close your eyes. “I think she wants a finger inside, don’t you? Why don’t you give her what she wants,” he says so close this time that your head falls to the side into his nose, and he inhales the scent of your hair.

With Joel’s instruction you take your middle finger and push it inside your entrance with a small gasp. “There you go, oh, good girl. That feels so good, huh? Go on, you can tell me.” With another gasp you whisper, “Yes, Joel. So good.” “Shh, I know.” He says as he pets your hair and runs his right hand down your left arm to your hand that’s splayed on the couch next to your thigh. He takes your hand in his and brings it up to your breast, squeezing it with your hand, using your fingers to pull at the budded nipple through your thin shirt and bra. Once he’s satisfied that you’ll carry on that way on your own he takes his hand and moves it down to where you’re touching yourself. “Can I help? I don’t think your small finger is going to be enough for her.” You nod, whimpering and moaning, your eyes fluttering open and then closed again. You’ve never felt this much pleasure in your life. Where the hell did he come from?

With that, Joel joins your middle finger with his own, much thicker and longer than yours, and the feeling is exquisite. Slowly he moves your hands out and back in making sure to push your palm against your clit as he does. The third time he pushes back in hard and fast making you both moan together. Both your heads rub together, until he pulls away just to watch. “Oh baby, she’s taking us so well. I want you to look,” he says but you can’t seem to move or think. He uses his other hand to hold the back of your neck and position so you can see what he’s watching, just beyond your stomach, you can see both your hands and then both your fingers appear when he pulls back, covered in your slick, then disappear back inside you. “I can tell she’s close baby, you feel her squeezing us?” You look up at him now and he looks right at you. “I’ve got you, faster now.” And he pushes your fingers in and keeps them there, curling your finger with his harder and faster now, more and more pressure. “It’s okay, let go for me, give me what I want, give me your come, come for me, you deserve it. I wanna hear it, I wanna feel it, I wanna see it, please. Look at me,” he commands, and you do and just then your orgasm hits you like a speeding train, “Oh god, Joel, I’m coming, oh god. Ungghhh, Joel.” Your pussy clenches you and Joel’s fingers so tight and spills your juices all over them. Joel stills your fingers inside you as you come back to life, whispering in your ear, “Good girl. Did so good f’me. I’m so proud of you.”

He takes your hand in his after you recover a bit more and takes his finger and puts it to your mouth, you take it in instantly, tasting yourself on him and he surprises you by taking your finger into his own mouth, “I need a taste too,” he says. And as soon as his tongue touches your finger, he makes the deepest moan you’ve ever heard, and you think you could come again just from hearing that. “Fuck, you taste so good, knew you would.” And he leans closer to your mouth, removing his finger and yours licking his lips and looking at your mouth, and you know he’s going to kiss you, something you’ve been missing every moment since that first kiss that morning in your bed at his house.

Skkkrch. “Joel!” The walkie comes to life. “Joel! You need to get back here now.” Maria’s voice comes through the walkie. Joel closes his eyes, his hand still holding yours when he whispers, “Fuck.” Then he’s up responding to the call. “Copy. On our way.” The silence is loud. You start to pull your pants back up and gather your things. “We gotta, I don’t know, we gotta get back,” Joel says with concern for Jackson evident on his face. “Of course, let’s go,” you say as you touch his arm. “Wait,” he says looking around, grabbing your glasses and instead of handing them to you, he unfolds them and places them back on your face gently, and smiles and you think this might be the moment, the moment you fall for Joel fucking Miller.

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

As you and Joel enter the gates of Jackson you run into Ellie, who looks panicked. Joel runs straight to her, holding her face, “What is it babygirl? What’s wrong?” Ellie, blinks back tears of relief seeing Joel and squeaks out, “It’s Tommy, he’s okay but he got jumped, he’s home with Maria you need to come there with me now.” Before you can speak Joel grabs your hand in his and pulls you along to Maria and Tommy’s place. When you walk in, Maria is icing Tommy’s busted lip, while he sits at the kitchen table holding another tea towel wrapped in ice on his eye. His arm is also in a sling. Joel stops dead in his tracks, but Tommy speaks first with a bit of a lisp from his injuries, “S’alright Joel, I’m fine, jus’ busted up. Reminds me of the times you picked me up in jail after a bar fight. I’ll survive.”

You squeeze Joel’s hand in reassurance, and he looks at you like he forgot you were with him but gives you a small, relieved smile. He lets go to sit next to Tommy and look at his injuries more closely. Maria motions for you to walk into the next room. “Maria, who did this?” you ask quietly. “It was Ryan,” she says equally as quiet. “Last night, Tommy dealt with Ryan after what he said to you, gave him some shit shoveling duty and extra work as a punishment for his behavior, he didn’t take kindly to it.” As she speaks, you’re filled with a blinding rage. You try to keep your composure and listen. “He snuck up on Tommy and sucker punched him, once Tommy was down, it wasn’t a fair fight. Look, we need to deal with this without Joel, he’ll go too far, we both know that.” Finally, with a measured tone you say, “Where is he? I won’t say anything to Joel, but I’d like to talk to Ryan myself,” Maria looks skeptical. “Are you sure you want to do that? He’s in the holding cell downtown.” You answer almost too quickly, “No problem. I’ll be back by in a bit, tell Tommy I’m sorry.” Before Maria can tell you that this isn’t your fault, you’ve snuck out the door.

Jackson’s holding cells are there to keep people after incidences of violence, theft, or other crimes, while the town decides what to do with them. Whether they are punished or expelled from Jackson altogether. As you walk towards the building where Ryan is being held, your heart hammers in your chest and something you spoke to Joel about less than a week ago comes back into your mind. “I’ve done terrible things.” And you had meant it. After you broke free from your shackles in the raiders camp you were trapped in, you found and hurt every single man you came across in that camp. You used whatever you had on you. At first, it was your teeth, then your fingers and nails. Your thick strong thighs broke a man’s neck. And even when they begged, even when they were the younger men, who were “just doing what they were told”, you didn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. After two years of being beaten, raped, tortured, mentally and verbally abused, you wanted to take control, you wanted to harm.

Ryan sitting there, locked in a cage, with a chair, his arms in handcuffs at his back. Some prisoner. You never had a chair. He didn’t seem to have a scratch on him, just a busted knuckle on his right hand. He hurt Tommy. Tommy was Joel’s brother, Maria’s husband, and your friend. He was family to you, and someone hurt him. That’s enough. A few people were standing watch. A couple of young women, Amy and Beck, who you’ve seen around town, regulars on patrol, and a slightly older man that was with Ryan at the table that night at the Bison. The one who smacked him when Ryan said those hateful things about you. “Bill,” he offers, nodded at you knowingly. “Could I have a moment with him?” The man instructs the women to take a break. He opens the cell for you and says quietly, “I’m here if you need but I won’t hear a thing.” You’re thankful for that.

Ryan looks up at you and laughs, “Come to kiss and makeup sweetheart.” You walk over and you can see the fear in his eyes when he gets a good look at you. Leaning in, you grab his pinkie and breaking it in one snap. “Ugh fuck, get off me bitch, Bill you see this?!” Bill stands there completely silent, and you finally speak. “You think he’s gonna help you, Ryan? He’s not gonna do shit. You got your little feelings hurt and you took it out on Tommy, well…Tommy’s my family. You hurt him, which means I can hurt you, the only difference is, I’m a lot more creative than you. You want to know all the ways a man can feel pain? How long a man can survive after a vein is opened? We can test that if you like. They didn’t want Joel to know it was you who did that to Tommy, they’re worried about what he might do to you, but they weren’t worried about me. They should have been.” In that moment you took one hand and racked your nails down the side of his face, tearing into his soft flesh, drawing a scream and blood from his face. Then you moved your mouth to his ear, speaking softly. “You’re going to leave Jackson, and in a few days, I’ll come looking so you better get as far away as you can. Go fast little boy, really fast or who knows what kind of thing I’ll get up to.” And you take a bite out of Ryan’s right ear as he screams again, and you spit it back into his face wiping the blood off your mouth on his shoulder.

Bill stands by as you leave, locks up and asks you to send the women back in. When you turn the corner wiping the blood off your glasses, Ellie is standing there looking absolutely mesmerized. Shit. “Ellie, you didn’t see anything or hear anything and we’re not speaking of this again,” you say as you keep walking past her. Outside you gesture to Amy and Beck and they walk back in, Ellie runs up to your side. She’s grinning like a little psycho and you speak again, “Ellie, stop, that wasn’t good or aspirational, you need to chill.” Ellie finally speaks, “That was fucking awesome, and he deserved it. I didn’t hear everything you said but shit, that dude was scared out of his mind, so it must have been good.” You look at Ellie and say plainly, “It was nothing, he was weak, anything would scare him. Don’t tell Joel. Or anyone for that matter.” Before you get too far, Ryan is begging to be let out of the gates, being guided by Bill. And you trust that you won’t have to deal with Ryan ever again.

Taglist: Taglist: @somedayheaven @guelyury @elegantduckturtle @indiegirlunited @cheekychaos28 @ghostofzion @harriedandharassed @missladym1981 @littlemisspascal

[irkimatsu]

Hiii. Soooo...Husk's crush using a pick-up line on him

Fem!reader knows he likes magic, so figures what would be the best one to use

"You must be a really good magician...because when I look at you, everyone else disappears 😘👉👉

Oh this one was adorable to write. <3 SFW little drabble of Husk showing Reader a magic trick!

---

“Would you mind showing me a trick?”

“Huh? You really wanna see?”

It didn’t surprise you when Husk told you he loved stage magic and used to perform when he was alive; the top hat and tuxedo pattern gave him away from day one, really. What did surprise you was that he had anything he could speak so wistfully about. You’ve only been here for a couple weeks, but you figured early on that the binge drinking had killed every positive emotion Husk had left.

But then you two got onto the subject of what your lives on Earth were like, and his face brightened despite himself as he talked about his days touring the United States with his shows, and how his dream was to be able to perform overseas. He shut down pretty quickly after he realized he was showing a soft spot around a relative stranger, but you’d already seen enough of that soft spot to know you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often.

And what better way to bring it out than to indulge the thing he was most proud of?

“Of course I wanna see!” you say. “I never really got to see stage magic when I was a kid, but it always sounded really interesting!”

“Well, okay,” he says, smiling just a little. “But don’t think I’m gonna reveal the secret behind the trick, just like that. Let me just…” He pats around a bit on his slacks, before pulling a deck of cards out from his pocket. “There we go.”

Does he carry those around all the time? You successfully stop yourself from laughing, knowing that if you do he’ll never talk to you again.

He pulls the deck out of the case and shuffles the cards, flipping them from paw to paw in elaborate patterns. Despite his claim that he hasn’t done this in a long time, it seems so second nature to him.

“All right,” he says as he fans the cards out in front of you. “Pick one, but don’t tell me what it is.”

You pull out the card and take a look at it. It’s an eight of spades.

“Once you remember it, put it back in the deck.”

You follow his instructions, and he starts shuffling again.

“Now, it’s been a while,” he says as he nimbly flips and juggles the cards from paw to paw. “I’m pretty sure I got this, but- whoa!” He fumbles and drops the deck, and all fifty-two cards go flying across the floor behind the bar.

“Husk!” You immediately leap to your feet and move behind the bar. “Do you need help?”

“If you don’t mind,” he says, voice utterly defeated. “Damn it, I really thought I had it…” The brightness has drained from his face, and you can barely stand to see it.

“It’s okay! Like you said, you’re out of practice!” you say as you help him gather cards. “You just need to get used to it again!”

“Yeah, yeah…” he grumbles, not really listening. “Looks like a card got stuck under the bar… mind pulling it out for me?”

You slip your fingers beneath the bar and easily slide the face-down card out from underneath it. As you pick it up, you notice the number and suite on the card face.

Eight of spades.

Husk is wearing the smuggest grin you’ve ever seen from him.

“...wow,” is all you can say, in genuine awe.

“Still got it, huh?” he says, beaming with pride, as he pushes himself back up to his feet. You hand him the card, and he shuffles it back into the stack he’s holding.

“That was amazing,” you say. “I’d love to see more tricks from you some time.”

“Glad you enjoyed it!” he said, glowing with a genuine happiness you weren’t sure he could feel anymore. He seems taken aback by the sudden emotion himself. He hums to himself as he shuffles the deck again, more as an excuse to show off his handiwork than anything else.

“You know, I should have known you were a magician,” you say as you take your seat at the bar.

“Yeah? What gave it away, the top hat?”

“There’s that… and there’s your disappearing act.”

His cheerful face turns confused as he raises an eyebrow. “Disappearing act?”

“Yeah. Whenever you talk to me, you make everyone else in the hotel disappear.”

“What-” Your meaning dawns on him, and he barks out a laugh. “How much have you been drinking?”

“You should know, you’re the one mixing them!” you shoot back.

“Heh… you’re cute, I’ll admit it.” He stops shuffling the cards and taps them on the bar to line them up again. “Here, I’ll show you another one. Think of a number from 1 to 13…”

[magicalqueennightmare]

Home

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

You take down Evan and make it back to New Orleans where Elijah awaits

Warning: mention of killing and a tiny smidge of spice

Your phone vibrated in your pocket causing you and Max both to mumble a curse as he spread a shield around you both with his magic, a tactic to make the men looking for the two of you simply look anywhere but the corner the two of you were in.

The Banes twins had figured out Evan had indeed poisoned those on his side against hunters, using witches who wanted a squadron of their own who was capable of taking on things that crawled out of the deepest abyss of hell and every other realm.

The only way to sever the spell would be to kill Evan. The issue with that was it had to be an instantaneous moment of you killing him while the coven Alicia and Max had formed for this stripped his witches of their powers.

That took this hunt from the level of “find the monster and kill it” all of you knew to forming a tactical team of hunters spread across the states. Enchanted coms gave you access to hunters states over trying to pinpoint Evan's exact location. You'd called the kill, everyone understood the importance to you that was being the one to put down this threat.

Once the threat passed Max lowered his shield and grabbed your arm “Come on” the two of you ran for his motorcycle that was parked nearby and nearly dove onto it.

Elijah didn't let his temper out but when another call went unanswered he was considering breaking the phone. “She's been gone for two weeks. She dropped contact three days in. Brother perhaps she moved on” Klaus’ voice hit his ears and he spun to face him “Her Nova is still in storage. Most of her belongings are still in her apartment. Why would she leave all of that behind simply to get away from me?”

The truth was Klaus was trying to provoke his brother by offering a challenge that you simply left because after a few days of your absence he'd seen what it had done to Elijah and Rebekah and tried to locate you himself. No trail of you had been left behind in over a week. Rebekah was distracted by Marcel so his goal was to not let Elijah consider the very real possibility that you may be dead.

“If she comes back near New Orleans we'll know but you can not make her appear in front of you from will alone” he tried to choose his words carefully and could see that they had little effect on Elijah. “I care for her Niklaus. I do not want to consider having lost her this soon after finding her”

You watched Alicia walk across the room time and again, going over the vials of herbs and ingredients that lined the table. Some of those had required some traveling to get your hands on and a few Dean had gotten shipped in on a favor from Ketch.

Your hands moved from muscle memory alone, loading your guns then sharpening your blades. Evan's location had been narrowed down, you had wolves nearby watching that could report back should he move.

This had taken nearly a month. You hadn't spoken to Elijah in so long the truth was you didn't expect him to be waiting on you when you got back to New Orleans. You knew what he'd say had he known what you were doing. He'd ask you to let him handle it. He'd gladly kill Evan and get Klaus to wipe out the witches but you needed to do this yourself.

Max walked in the door and looked from you to his sister “It's time. We've got a half an hour window. It's now or never”

You were exhausted and sore when you practically rolled out of Alicia's car “Sure you don't want me to stick around?” She asked but you shook your head “A witch as powerful as you? Marcel will send people knocking. I'll be ok”

She laughed “Just call if you need anything sweetheart. You should sleep better tonight” you grinned “Oh hell yes”

—----------

You walked into the door of your apartment and dropped the bag of dirty clothes next to the door but took care to push the bag of weapons under the bed where they would be close at hand. You desperately needed to shower.

You thought of Elijah as you walked into the bathroom. You wanted to see him but part of you feared his reaction to how long you'd been gone.

Instead you hit Rebekah's number on your phone as you walked into the bathroom. The moment she answered you heard her breath a sigh of relief “About bloody time! I was afraid you'd fallen off the face of the earth”

You laughed lightly,guilt slipping into your mind “I'm sorry Bek. I just needed to handle this on my own” “I understand the need but a text would've been nice. Elijah has been unbearable” you grimaced slightly “How bad?”

She laughed and the noise wrapped around you. You hadn't realized how bad you'd missed her as well “Let's just say he was ready to set fire state by state until he laid eyes on you again. Klaus had to talk him down” christ if Klaus was being the voice of reason..you closed your eyes “Chances of delaying him knowing I'm back?”

“I can give you maybe half an hour” “You're an angel with fangs Bek” you bid each other goodbye with promise to meet the following day before you laid your phone down on the sink and quickly got into the shower. Evan's blood was still caked on your arms and splashed through your hair. You couldn't face Elijah bloody.

—---------------

You walked out of the bedroom and had just plugged your phone in and sat it on the end table next to your bed when there was a familiar knock at your door. The thought to make him wait flashed through your mind but you pushed it down.

You walked over to the door and looked down at what you were wearing. You'd tossed an oversized shirt and sleep shorts on. He'd seen you in less considering.

You opened the door and he blasted by you into the apartment. “Come on in” you mumbled, the sarcasm in your voice falling flat when you turned to face the vampire standing in the middle of your home. Anger rolled off of him in waves. Instead of his usual suit he was wearing that damn henley again and you wondered if Rebekah had told him to wear that since she knew the effect it had on you.

You shut the door then turned to lean against it with your arms crossed over your chest. You'd done nothing wrong. You owed him no explanation and wasn't about to grovel for his affection. “Rebekah said you've been a bit unhinged?”

He scoffed at your response “Tell me, how would you like me to react? You left and haven't spoken to any of us in a month” “I had business of my own to take care of” you replied and within the blink of an eye he was in front of you, eyes skimming your body “and you didn't trust me with the information of who you were after?”

You uncrossed your arms, placing both palms flat on his chest to give you enough room that his presence wasn't dizzying. He let his hands come to rest on your hips, you didn't protest because in truth you were craving his touch.

“If you respect me Elijah, you'll respect that I had to do this because it was my former fiance that was targeting hunters. I brought the threat to my community, I had to handle it” He nodded slowly “and if you respect me darling the next time you need to go on one of these little missions I simply ask you tell me”

He leaned down enough to be looking into your eyes “I don't like the thought of losing you” you didn't know how to respond. You'd expected a lot out of this but not a confession of not wanting to lose you. You knew how you felt about him but you knew you were human, you'd die probably sooner than later given your life. Were you worth the effort?

You didn't want to give voice to those concerns. You just wanted to feel Elijah. You moved your hands up his chest to hook them around his neck and bring him down into a kiss. The moment your lips touched you let out a light sigh. This was what you'd been missing for weeks. The kiss was hungry and charged, both of you feeling the need to devour the other.

His hands went from your hips to your thighs and he picked you up effortlessly. You gasped at the movement and he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, rolling it against yours. You ground your hips down against his, feeling how his body was already reacting to you.

You were forced to pull away from the kiss in need of air so he moved to your neck, nipping the areas he knew would make you quiver in his touch. “Bed Elijah, please” you moaned and he grinned into your neck “What happened to my smart mouthed little hunter who was ready for a fight moments ago?”

You pulled back and glared at him “You've got five seconds to get me to the bed” before you could get your sentence out completely, your back was on the bed and he was over you “Fast enough?” You shook your head but couldn't hide how your thighs clenched when his hands slipped under your shirt, fingertips barely grazing your bare breasts.

“Please quit teasing” you begged and damn him he had the nerve to smile almost boyishly “I've waited a month to touch you, taste you. You're going to get comfortable and let me enjoy this” you wanted to argue, to throw some sarcastic comment back but the way he was looking at you pulled every thought out of your mind. You nodded slowly and his smile turned from boyish to devilish “Good girl”

—-------------

You could remember the first few times you and Elijah were together. He'd been gentle, almost too gentle. You understood his fear of hurting you. He was strong and had so many years of experience and as much as you loved being held and worshiped there were times you wanted it rougher, to feel his fingertips bruising as he drove into you pushing you over that peak of pleasure.

He'd learned what you liked and was intuitive enough to know just what you needed. Tonight he knew you didn't need soft or gentle, you needed to clear your head of anything but him.

—----------------

You gripped his hair tightly as his tongue worked at your clit, fingers curling over that spot deep inside of you that had your back fighting to arch off the bed despite the fact that one of his arms laid across your stomach held you in place. “Elijah..please…fuck”

You'd already come twice and damn him he was determined to make it a third time before he ever even stripped free of his clothes. You could feel that pressure building in you and the moment he barely let his teeth graze your sensitive flesh you came with a cry of his name falling from your lips. You pushed weakly at his head “Too much…too damn much”

He left one final kiss against you then leaned back to smile up at you “Giving up already?” You wished you had the energy to fully retort but you simply waved at his clothes “You're severely overdressed Mikaelson”

He nodded then stood, quickly stripping his clothes before crawling back up your body slowly,nearly at a human pace. When he reached your lips he caught them in a rough kiss allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue “You look absolutely exquisite like this”

You opened your mouth to respond but he chose that moment to slowly push into you, clearly enjoying the way your mouth fell open and your eyes closed against the stretch. “Tell me what you need” he whispered, unmoving as he placed open mouthed kisses along your jaw taking special care to tease every place he knew would have you clenching around him.

After a moment you opened your eyes to find his gaze locked firmly onto you. You gave him a small smile “Show me how much you missed me” He shook his head with a slight smirk “All my years of living and you may very well be my undoing” a sharp roll of his hips ensured you didn't have the ability to reply beyond a deep moan falling from your lips as your nails dug into his shoulders.

You woke up curled up to Elijah's chest. It wasn't the first time the two of you had spent an entire night wrapped up in each other but the sight of waking up to him next to you was something you'd never grow tired of.

He groaned lightly as he stretched around you “How are you feeling?” You placed a kiss on his chest “Delightfully sore and happy to be home” he smiled at you referring to New Orleans as home. “How long do I have you before Rebekah steals you away?”

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand “You've got a couple hours” he leaned down to pull you into a kiss “In that case, I still have a month to make up for” you felt his hands begin to roam lower and moaned into the kiss. You may have to meet Rebekah for dinner instead of lunch.

[rebelwrites]

One: Good Days And Bad

Charles Leclerc x Nova Teller (OC)

Till The Wheels Fall Off Masterlist

Small town meets the fast lane. What happens when two souls meet? Will it end in happiness or will they both crash and burn?

A/N: And here it is the first part of of probably one of my favourite series I’ve written ❤️

Warnings: strong themes of memory issues throughout

Staring across the bar, a heavy sigh escaped my lips as I tossed the damp rag into the stainless steel sink. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, no matter how hard I tried. In one of the booths sat the one person who meant the absolute world to me, the one person who never gave up on me when others had. The one person who was always in my corner fighting for me when I had lost all my strength. The one person who knew how to turn a shit day into something memorable. The one person I would do anything for, including giving my life if it came to that.

There were good days and bad, unfortunately today was one of the bad ones. We had to take each one as it came, but either way we made sure someone was always with him, that he was never left alone, especially on days like today.

Not that anyone could do anything about it– nothing would bring him back to the present. Once he slipped into his own world it was like his soul was being taken over. The vacant look on his face became permanent making him look older than he was. And unfortunately, there were only a handful of people who knew how to deal with these trances.

Between running the bar, the cafe, and tag teaming his care with Jax and Chibs, I didn’t have time to breathe let alone spend any time on myself. I always found myself checking the vacancy pages for any of the Formula One teams and every so often the position of social media manager or assistant came up. I knew Pops would have wanted me to apply but I could never bring myself to press the apply button.

No matter how bad the situation got I would always put my family first.

Finally I dropped my gaze to my phone, tapping the button on the side, causing the screen to light up. A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips at the cheesy grin of my niece staring back at me. The sight of her wearing my Ferrari hoodie always made me chuckle, the damn thing buried her but she didn’t care, all she wanted was she had her Auntie’s hoodie on.

Shaking the memory away, I rolled my eyes realizing that once again the boys were late. I should have known they would be, time keeping wasn’t their strong point. Locking my phone, I slipped it into the back pocket of my jeans before pouring a fresh mug of coffee, making my way around the bar. Within a few short strides I found myself at his corner booth.

“Here you go, Pops,” I hummed, placing the mug on the table in front of him. “Chibs will be here soon okay.”

“When’s the race on?” he grunted, pointing at the tv that was positioned over the bar. “Isn’t it Monza this week?”

Reaching out I took his hand in mine, somedays all I wanted to do was cry when he was like this but, by now, I had become a pro at hiding my emotions around everyone, especially him.

“Pops, it’s summer break, remember?” I whispered. “There aren't any races until the end of August.”

“No, no, no, no,” he exclaimed, snatching his hand away from mine. His gaze was on me but it felt like he was staring right through me. “You have it all wrong.” His voice was clipped in anger, but I knew it came from a place of fear and frustration rather than real animosity. It was easier for him to believe that we were wrong than to accept what was happening.

Taking a deep breath, I mentally counted to ten in my head remembering that this wasn’t his fault, this was just a bad day. I knew it was better to just agree with him rather than try to argue, but it didn’t always stop me from trying to get him that nudge back into the present. I needed to think on my feet, pulling my phone out of my pocket pretending to check on the race schedule when I was actually on Instagram, liking one of Charles Leclerc’s recent posts.

“Okay Pops, I’ve just checked and the race is going to start soon.” I whispered, leaning forward pressing a kiss against his cheek. Pushing myself from the booth I swiped the remote from the bar. I didn’t need to ask which year of Monza he was talking about.

It was always 2019, at this point I could recite the commentary word for word from how many times this had happened. Luckily for me, it was a race I was happy to watch over and over again being a Ferrari and Charles Leclerc fan.

It didn’t take long to get everything set up, so I could make a start on the list of stuff that needed to be ordered. Although it was the end of July and peak time for our summer rush, due to the recent bad weather we had been having, the town was quiet. People didn’t want to venture out to a small town in the middle of nowhere when the storm hit, normally it was around the start of September which was perfect because the summer tourists had ventured back home but this year it was like the world was against us, as the storms graced us with their presence at the start of July meaning our regular summer visitors decided to stay away.

I had a love-hate relationship with storm season. There was something calming about watching the sky light up as the rain thrashed down. Many times I would grab a blanket and a fresh mug of coffee, setting up camp on the sofa located on our porch, with the canopy providing the much needed shelter from the heavy rain. But recently, I began to hate the change in weather, realizing they had become one of the triggers for Pops. We couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason for his mental decline, but we assumed it had something to do when he was in Vietnam.

Summer tourists always kept me running, but now with Pops, it was even more hectic. Jax tried his best, but once he became a single father, his priorities shifted, his mini-me becoming the center of his world. I know it weighed on him, not being able to help as much, but I refused to let him feel guilty for being a good father, so instead of complaining, I worked harder, slept less, and caffeinated more.

Glancing from the TV, I spotted Jax and Chibs strolling into the bar. The first thing I noticed was Jax wasn’t wearing his kutte, it was quite rare he didn’t have the leather hanging from his shoulders but he always made a point of keeping the days we spent together just about us, not about the club or the business. Chibs on the other hand never took it off, I swore he slept in the damn thing.

the moment I raised my brow at them their smirks fell from their faces, instantly being replaced by a guilty look. “What time do you call this, aye?” I hummed, folding my arms across my chest.

“Sorry lass, we got held up at the garage.” Chibs nodded, flashing me an apologetic smile, rushing across the room joining me from behind the bar. “How’s JT been this morning?” he asked, quickly changing the subject, not wanting to receive a bollocking.

“Vacant, but not as bad as last night.” I sighed, resting my head against Chibs’ shoulder, letting the smell of leather and tobacco wash over me. “He keeps thinking it’s race week so the next month is going to be tough.”

“We will just keep putting old races on,” Chibs hummed, pressing a kiss against the top of my head. We quickly found that putting races on was the best way to calm him down when he was getting worked up, something about watching the cars making laps around the track helped him gather his thoughts.

“Yeah, all the ones where Leclerc loses or DNFs.” Jax teased, causing me to flip him the bird. “Anyway, you good to go?”

“The bikes ready?”

“On the flat bed so get your ass moving, because lord knows you need a break more than any of us.” Jax smiled softly, I could see the guilt shining bright in his icy blue eyes. “You know how much we appreciate everything you do for this family.”

To the world, Jackson Teller was an arrogant asshole, the President of the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle club here in Charming, who had no heart and showed no mercy. Although, there was some truth in what people saw, to me he was my older brother, best friend, and confidant all rolled into one. I knew he felt guilty about not being able to look after Pops as much but I never held that against him. I knew that his daughter, Elenor, was his top priority. She had the face of an angel but we all suspected she was the devil in disguise. There was no hiding who her father was - she was a Teller through and through.

His words caused a lump to form in the back of my throat, replacing the one I had finally swallowed down about Pops having a bad day. “Nope, ain't happening, not today,” I said sternly, jumping over the bar, pressing my palm against his chest. “We aren’t going down that path today, okay? You know I’d do anything for this family. You guys saved me so it’s only fair I return the favor,” I whispered the last part, feeling his large hand wrap around mine. “Now come on, there is a bike and a muddy track that is calling our names.”

Pushing myself away from him I made my way around the room, once I had reached Pops I leant down pressing a kiss against his cheek. For a moment he broke his gaze from the TV flashing me a soft smile before squeezing my hand.

“You let me know who wins okay?” I hummed, as he turned back to watching the race. Of course, I knew who won the race but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was how excited he would be to talk about it with me when I got back. “Love you Pops.”

Feeling Jax wrap his arm around my shoulders told me it was time to go. Flashing him a soft smile I let him guide me out of the bar and to the truck.

The moment I saw our dirt bikes secured on the flat bed I couldn’t help but smile. This was something we planned once a month, no matter what was going on in our life, we always made time for this.

Not only was it a way to make sure we spent time together outside of the bar, but it was also an escape from reality. There was something about tearing around the dirt track, getting covered head to toe in mud that really cleansed the soul.

Taking a deep breath I wrapped my fingers around the door handle, rolling my eyes when I realized Jax still hadn’t fixed the damn thing. I swore this truck was one strong wind of becoming a pile of metal in the corner of the yard at the garage.

It had been in the family for years, all the paint was peeling, the arches were rusted out, the roof leaked when it rained and there was always a plank of wood strapped to the bed of the truck ready to load the bikes.

“We own a garage and you haven’t sorted this yet!” I scolded with a playful smirk on my face as I yanked the door open. I knew why this truck hadn’t been restored, every dent and scratch held memories for both of us. My fondest memory was the dent the shape of Jax’s head from when we had one of our rare fights and I slammed him into the truck.

“I will get round to it,” he chuckled, running around the front of the truck. “Now get your ass in, we haven’t got all day.”

Rolling my eyes at my brother, I pulled myself into the truck, slamming the door behind me. Without asking I reached over and grabbed the crumpled pack of smokes from the dashboard.

“That's it, just steal my smokes,” Jax laughed, raising his brow as he slammed the truck into reverse.

“Want one?” I hummed, holding the cigarette between my teeth.

“What, of my own smokes? Of course, I want one, dipshit.” He huffed, snatching the pack from my lap.

A silence washed over the two of us as Jax sped through the streets of our hometown, filling our lungs with nicotine. Even with my rare time off, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander back to Pops. No matter what I was doing I always found myself worrying about him, even though I knew he was in good hands.

“Stop it,” Jax said softly.

“You know I hate when you do that,” I huffed, resting my head against the window. “But I can’t help it. I worry.”

“I know,” he sighed, running his fingers through his messy hair. “I worry as well but you know he’d hate it if we put our life on hold because of him.”

He was right, but it was exactly what I was doing. When we found out he was suffering with his memory, I abandoned my dreams to do what I could to help the man that I called my father, the man that raised me as his when both my parents decided that drugs were more important to them than their own flesh and blood. So, instead of pursuing my dream of working on the formula one circuit, I took over the bar and cafe without batting an eye.

Before I could manage a reply, I felt myself being tossed around in the seat. If it wasn’t for the seat belt I would have probably been through the window.

“Now we are talking.” I grinned, slapping my palms against my thighs as I focused on the muddy track that laid before us. “The only good thing about weeks of rain.”

Jax didn’t need telling twice as he practically threw himself out of the truck and, from the sounds of it, was already working on the ratchet straps that secured the bikes. Following suit I joined him as he jumped onto the bed of the truck.

We had plenty of practice getting the bikes down so it didn’t take us long before we were pulling on our protective gear. Once I was straddling the bike I instantly felt at home, the grin on my face was wide as I wrapped my fingers around the throttle.

“You know having the number 16 on your bike doesn’t make it any faster.” Jax teased, passing me my helmet. “You aren’t Charles Leclerc.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I scoffed, pulling the lid on my head, flipping the visor up before speaking again. “Just because my bike is better than yours.”

“Squirt, we have the same bike.”

“Yet I’m still faster than you,” I said smugly. “Now, are we riding or chit chatting?” I hummed, slamming my visor down leaving Jax in a spray of mud.

“I’m gonna kill you for that.” His pissed off tone echoed through my helmet through the ear pieces we had installed.

“You have to catch me first, asshole,” I giggled, opening up the throttle, racing up to the tree line.

@withmyteeth @chibsytelford @stillbreathin @danzer8705 @keyweegirlie @celestialams @dragon-of-winterfell @ohthemisssery @a-distantdreamer @sgkophie @angywritesstuff @enchantedbytomandhenry @scribbuluswrites @dangerouspursepeachbear @buendiabebeta @ferrarifwendvale @theplobnrgone @charlesleclercje @queenslife @panicforspec @inesramoss30 @justme2042 @liv67 @derpinathebrave @clcspeonies @pleasantducktimetravel @raaaaabzzz @mehrmonga @sbgal @fangirl-lb @pitconfirmbutton @oslokij @tall-tanned-tattoo @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @pumpkin-spice-hate @talicat713 @band--psycho @little-diable @i-love-scott-mccall @fourthwallhateclub @theysayitscrazy @rosieposie0624 @choochoo284 @meteora-fc @beeroses @darklydeliciousdesires @the-jer-bear @extraneousred @youflickedtooharddamnit @babypink224221

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

a short one but OH WELL I WANTED TO SPLIT IT HERE

part forty-two

❝ A WELCOME GUEST ❞

FRIDAY — AUGUST 24 — 2:32PM

NICO CRIED FOR A LONG TIME. He kept muttering things, like how he didn’t actually know his parents, or that he didn’t want to go home, or that he didn’t know what to do. There were a few times the wind started to blow inside the dorm, but he was quick to make it stop — he was a lot better about controlling it now than he had been before.

Currently, all the dorm lights were off but the lamp, the curtains were pulled shut, and Nico was asleep in Bentley’s bed. Both he and Asten were just kind of there, watching his chest rise and fall methodically.

He looked the same when he was sleeping as he had back in Gotham. Bentley couldn’t recall a single time he’d ever slept over that was good, or just for fun, even now. Out of all the times he’d ever seen him asleep, he’d never actually seen him sleep peacefully. Which was just a little bit concerning given the amount of times they’d slept next to each other.

Bentley and Asten were both sitting at their desks, doing nothing in particular. What were they supposed to do when a kid that didn’t go to school there just sort of… showed up unannounced? They weren’t just going to kick him to the curb, that was for sure. He had super speed, so obviously nobody had seen him come in. Bentley thought about telling their roommates but honestly just hadn’t gotten around to it. The whole dorm was a bit sad anyways.

In the dead silence that was their bedroom, Bentley glanced over at Asten. He hadn’t exactly said much since Nico got there. His green eyes were still slightly rimmed with red and his breath involuntarily shuddered every now and then. (Since when was Bentley ever the one out of the three of them who kept his composure? Asten had dragged them through the woods while being chased by a murderous scientist after seeing what they thought were dead bodies, got a bear trap slammed on his leg, and still hadn’t cried half as much as he just had when Nico showed up. Bentley wasn’t sure what made the difference now.)

Bentley sighed after a long time of quiet, whispering: “Are you okay?”

Asten glanced over at him, his sad green eyes bouncing across Bentley’s face for a second before he nodded. 

“Yeah,” He replied, looking back down at his own hands. “If I had known he was coming, I wouldn’t have freaked out like that. Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry,” Bentley replied softly. “I just want you to be okay.”

Asten glanced over at him for a second, but Bentley just sort of looked at Nico.

“I’m okay,” Was his muted response. 

Bentley said nothing.

Asten breathed in, looking back over at Nico. “How long should we let him stay?”

Bentley shrugged, watching as Nico shifted the tiniest bit in his bed. “I don’t know. It’s not like any teachers are going to find out during quarantine. Should we tell everyone else?”

“I already texted Valor. He seems to be fine with it, but I’ll make a group chat and drop it in there, too. So everyone knows,” Asten replied, whipping his phone out of his pocket. “I also texted Nico’s mom, let her know that he’s safe. But I didn’t tell her where we are. All she said was thank you.” 

Bentley didn’t say anything. He felt his phone vibrate a few moments later from Asten’s group text, but didn’t pull it out.

“I can sleep on the empty bunk in Bellamy’s room tonight. And for however long he wants to stay here,” Bentley suggested, gesturing to Nico. (He ignored the little voice in the back of his head that kept saying: is this even legal?)

Asten nodded. “Okay.”

A sudden exclamation of “Oh, shit!” Emanated through the bedroom door from the living area, and Bentley could’ve swore he heard someone drop something. 

He and Asten glanced at each other, before he reluctantly stood. “I’ll go check.”

“Okay,” Was Asten’s quiet response. 

With a soft sigh, Bentley made for their door and made his way out of it, closing it behind him as softly as he could. He couldn’t really pinpoint what had happened for a few moments, because there was no one in the living area or kitchen, but then he saw Valor and Koa in the floor near the dining table.

“What happened?” He asked, moving closer to them. Valor was sitting on the floor, and Koa had a hand on the back of his head, pushing it down between his knees like Bentley had seen Bruce do to his brothers (mostly Tim) after they passed out or something.

“This loser fainted because he refuses to take care of himself,” Koa grumbled. “Because I was right, like I always am. But I digress. Will you go in there with Rockie?”

Bentley blinked. “Me?”

Koa glanced up at him. “I mean, he obviously likes you the most out of all of us who are functioning right now.”

“I am functioning,” Valor grumbled.

Bentley glanced at him, then over at Rockie’s closed bedroom door. “Yeah... I’ll go.”

“Thanks,”

Bentley said nothing, but made for Rockie’s door. He was kind of afraid of what he would find inside, because he hadn’t seen Rockie in almost three whole days, but he went in anyways.

Their blackout curtains were pulled shut, making the room nearly pitch black apart from the single sliver of light coming from the bathroom; and Rockie was just… curled up in his bed. Buried in the blankets sort of like Asten had been earlier. His eyes were open, but he wasn’t looking at anything, really, just sort of… staring. His face was eerily blank.

Bentley stepped in and closed the door softly. “Hey… Rockie.”

His green eyes flicked over to him for half a second before focusing back on whatever they had been. It seemed to be the desk sitting by the door, although Bentley thought he might’ve been looking more through it than at it.

Bentley sighed lightly, feeling extraordinarily out of his element. He just sort of took a few tentative steps forward, sitting down softly on the end of Rockie’s bed, near his feet.

Bentley heard him breathe in lightly. 

“Where’s Valor?” Rockie spoke, which he hadn’t really expected. His voice was hardly above a whisper, and it sounded different than it usually did, layered with something. Or… stripped. Sort of thick and thin at the same time.

“He’s… taking a break,” Is what Bentley said. (He decided Rockie didn’t need the guilt of Valor’s issues on his back, with everything else.) “He’s… tired, so… looks like you’re stuck with me.”

His attempt at humor fell flat, and neither of them spoke for a little while. Rockie inhaled a few times like he was going to start talking, but… he never ultimately did. They just kind of both were… there. Quietly.

“Valor told me about your friend,” Rockie muttered finally, so quiet Bentley had to process it for a few moments before he actually understood what he said. “Is he okay?”

Bentley wondered how in the world Rockie was checking on someone else in the midst of all of this.

“He’s alright. Sleeping now. His parents just got divorced, so…” Bentley shrugged. “He’s okay, though.”

Rockie didn’t say anything else, and still didn’t look over at him. Ten, maybe fifteen whole minutes of silence passed before he spoke again.

“She cheated on me fifty-seven times in the past two years. And that’s just everyone she slept with,” He said quietly, shifting in the bed. “Who the hell does that?”

Bentley wasn’t sure what to say, so he didn’t.

“I… heard about Asten,” He continued. And suddenly Bentley kinda wanted to throw himself off a cliff even though he wasn’t part of the situation in the slightest. (Who had told him about Asten?) “Valor said that’s why he’s been so...” Rockie trailed off and shrugged subtly. “Will you tell him I’m not mad?”

Bentley blinked. He wasn't... what?

“Yeah... yeah, I’ll tell him," Bentley replied, a physical relief flooding his veins. "He’ll be really happy. He… was afraid you’d hate him.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” Rockie replied softly. 

Bentley let out a sigh of relief even though it wasn't even for himself. (Maybe now Asten could stop being so sad?)

A soft sniff broke him out of whatever trance he’d been in, and when Bentley looked up, Rockie put his hands over his face with a soft: “Shit.”

Bentley exhaled lightly, scooting himself back on Rockie’s bed until he was against the wall. Then he moved up toward the top so he was next to him, and he rubbed his arm gently. “You don’t have to talk to me about it, you know. You can just lay here.”

A few moments of silence passed.

“How the hell is she so okay?” He muttered, his voice muffled from his hands and his very sudden crying. “I feel like I’m gonna fucking die.”

Bentley didn’t say anything, just rubbed his arm some more. He didn’t know what to say. But he did know that he felt kind of like a piece of garbage and he hadn’t even done anything wrong.

For a while, Rockie just cried. And Bentley just sort of sat there with him. (He felt kinda bad because he was pretty sure Rockie wasn’t crying before he went in there. Although he wasn’t particularly shocked at his ability to make things worse by simply existing.)

Rockie sniffled deeply. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Bentley was quick to reply. “If I only like hanging out with you when you’re happy, I wouldn’t be much of a friend.”

“If you only hung out with me when I was happy, you’d have never hung out with me at all,” Rockie muttered. To himself, mostly, but Bentley didn’t miss it. It made him remember the Fluoxetine and then he suddenly felt really bad.

He, with a quiet sigh, brought one of his hands up and raked it through Rockie’s hair, who didn’t seem to mind.

He just kind of hoped everyone would be better soon.

--

tag list that KINDA works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[dykecassidy]

its 2:30am and i cant sleep, have fic of my wrestling oc its 2k words from 3 years ago i like this one so u have to by niceys

It was kind of a company outing. Tony paid the first round of drinks, but it wasn’t official, and most people left after that. Greg, Dustin, and Jim hung around. It was Greg’s home town, and it was actually a bar he liked. They kept shooting the shit, Jim fussing with his button up, Dustin and Greg both undoing theirs, showing their undershirts.

A few people hung around, but as the hours eked on, most were gone.

“Hey,” Dustin said, clunking his pint glass onto the table, pointing with his chin. “New kid’s still here.” The other two looked over, a little obviously, but it didn’t matter. A relatively new sign, MJF’s showy little protege, Priss. Or their real name, Riley, but they seemed surprised when anyone called them that. 

They were alone, on a barstool at an appropriately tall table. Alone and staring at their phone, tapping away— huffing, leaning their head on their fist.

“...Are they even old enough to drink?” Greg asked.

“They still let you in— it’s a work thing,” Dustin argued, and Jim still stared. He rested his chin in his palm, watching them.

“Looks like they were ditched,” he said finally.

Dustin gave half interested “oh, yeah?” which was enough for Jim to keep going.

“They keep looking around, and they’re typing up a novel it looks like.” 

All three of them focused now. Riley was obviously dressed for a night out, most everyone had been, body con dress and tights, and they kept bringing a hand to their face, carefully wiping away mascara before it could run. 

“You don’t think Max ditched them, do you?” Greg asked, “I thought he actually liked the kid.”

“He’s a kid,” Dustin said, “it’s fucking weird that he’s mentoring someone.”

Jim drummed his fingers on his glass, still watching. Riley would type for a bit, stop, seemingly check something on their phone, and then rifle through the cardholder on their case, pulling everything out, putting it back, looking for something.

Jim stood and strode over, not listening to Dustin asking where the hell he was going. 

“Hey,” Jim said, drumming his fingers on the table. Riley looked up at him, eyes wide and red— they had been crying. “You alright?” he asked.

“Uh,” they stuttered, “yeah. Yeah, just— Max isn’t texting me back, and he’s got my hotel key, so I’m just freaking out a little.”

Jim leaned his elbows on the table, making it wobble, dropping his head. “The front desk should give you a new key,” he said, deciding not to ask why Max had it, when it presumably wasn’t his hotel room—

“That’s what i thought, but he booked it instead of the company, and his name is on everything so they won’t even confirm he’s got a room booked.”

Ah.

“Pretty shit of him to ditch you, huh.” If he couldn’t help, he’d at least try to make them feel a little better. 

“He didn’t— I’m sure he just forgot, I asked him to hang onto it because I don’t have any pockets.” Riley finally put down their phone, and looked Jim in the face when they talked to him. “Why’d you come over here, anyway?”

It was a good question. Jim was friendly at work, yeah, but he really didn’t run in the same circles as Riley; they were part of the younger crowd, and Jim hung around the people he’d known about a decade. They weren’t even from the same sides of the country, they had no reason to talk to each other— Jim had every excuse to pretend he never even saw them, let alone come over.

He shrugged. “Why not?”

Riley looked at him. The kind of bitchy look they’d give in ring— he’d seen it on the monitors, on tv even. He didn’t know them, yeah, but he liked to keep tabs on interesting talent.

“Well, I’m fine—”

“You can come sit with us,” Jim cut them off. Riley stared at him, and he turned, pointed back to the table Dustin and Greg were at, pretending like they weren’t watching at all. Greg tried to smile invitingly, and Dustin waved.

Riley looked like… Like a 19 year old on a ruined night out had been offered to sit with a bunch of men closer to double their age. 

“Or not!” Jim said quickly. “Just thought you might wanna be ditched next to people, that’s all—”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll— okay, I’ll come sit with you.” As Riley said that, they slid off the stool and—

“You really bump up your billed, huh?”

Their elbow rammed into his side, the rest of their body following soon, putting their weight into the joint.

They could tuck so nicely under his arm. He could just— grab them, if he wanted. If he’d worn a suit jacket, he could drop it on their shoulder later, outside later in the night, and it would hang cartoonishly large on them.

He didn’t, of course. He barely knew them. Instead he just bowed his body away, taking a step away, hand over where they’d jabbed him. 

Riley jumped in easy. It was clear they were social— Jim and Dustin were nerds, just grown up, and Greg was a weird in-between, not standoffish to new people, but he didn’t exactly look for situations to meet people. It wasn’t long at all before the four of them were laughing, talking like good friends. Riley’s postured relaxed, leaning across the table, standing up and getting loud. Their hair had been down, a change from their usual, classic ponytail, and as the night wore on, they messily put it up.

By chance, they glanced at their phone.

“He texted back!”

Jim couldn’t help himself; he leaned over and peeked. The texts from Riley went out of the screen, repeated frequent questions of ‘where did you go?’ and ‘you have my key’. The last thing they sent was “Hello????”

And Max had responded “hi”

Hours later, read receipts popping up on all the previous texts.

Jim watched Riley type out a quick message; ‘you have my hotel key, where can i meet you to grab it?’

Seen.

Typing.

Typing.

No response.

Riley dropped their phone to the table with a clatter, leaning back in their seat. “Great,” they huffed. “Hope he’s at least using it without me.” Their jaw tightened, folding their arms over their chest, chin crinkling, so so obviously trying not to cry. 

“Me and Dust are booked at the same hotel everyone else is,” Jim said, “why don’t you come with us and see if anyone’s up for splitting? Or if they can get you a room there anyway, since you’re staff.”

Jim was seated closest to Riley, could turn to face them. He watched their lips purse, jaw relax and set. Their tongue swipe over their teeth under their lips. 

“I guess we could try,” they mumbled. 

They called ubers, and the group meandered outside to wait. Greg’s was first, and he was just heading home. He patted Riley on the head, said he’d see them next week.

It was just Riley standing between Jim and Dustin, arms folded tight over their body, shoulders raised. The cold of the night was sharp, but Dusin and Jim were warmed artificially by their beers, capillaries open and coursing heat through them. 

Jim didn’t move a muscle as RIley pressed their arm to his, stood closer to him just to press against him.

Two cars arrived at once, one ordered by Riley, and one by Dustin for him and Jim to share— until Riley grabbed at Jim’s sleeve.

Their mouth hung open. 

“I just— when i uber, i share my location with, like, Max, in case something happens, but he’s like, MIA, so…”

“Oh,” Jim said. Of course. He started to pull out his phone; Riley was in that little dress and tights, of course, and even though they were a wrestler, that didn’t stop some whackjob on a gig job taking you on a joyride.

“Ride with me?” they asked, and he whipped his head up. He must’ve looked baffled, so they kept talking. “We’re going the same way, and I’d just—”

“Jim,” Dustin called, from his uber. Halfway into the backseat, impatient. Jim tilted his head towards Riley, gave a little frown. It clicked to Dustin, or he was pissy enough to move on, and he waved, climbing in and shutting the door.

So Jim was across the backseat from Riley, whom he’d spoken maybe ten words to prior to this night. He could feel exactly how tipsy he was on the drive, surreptitiously pressing his knuckles to his cheeks, feeling how warm his face was. Red as hell probably, too, across the backseat from— tight dress, short but with long sleeves, black nylons, high blonde pony tail and worn off makeup. He looked like some drunk sleez taking home an ingenue— not even home, to a hotel. 

Jesus, Jim. 

Anything he could think to do just… just looked worse. What did he care what some uber driver thought of him? Nothing, but he couldn’t shut his brain up about it. Maybe Riley was thinking about it too, maybe that’s why they were so quiet about it— rethinking asking, realizing they hadn’t gotten themself in any better a situation. 

Or they were just tired.

Maybe, James, they were out at a work function with their mentor, and he ditched them at a bar, and they were a little stressed out about how that meant they didn’t know where they’d be sleeping tonight. 

Hopefully the hotel would be able to do something for the kid. 

The rest of the ride was a blur, and Dustin was waiting in the lobby for them— nice of him.

He also waited while Riley found out there was nothing the hotel could do for them. They were fully booked. Unless they found someone willing to split, they'd be sleeping in the lobby— no hotel would rent out a room to someone under 21.

Riley stood at the edge of the reception desk, phone gripped in their hands, glaring at it like it might produce a bed. Max, presumably, still wasn't answering. Their only bet was to split with someone.

"Don't say shit," Jim hissed at Dustin.

before he could even process that, Jim was by Riley again. "Hey," he said, just like the first time, ducking his head low. "if you want…"

He could feel Dustin never letting him live this down, but whatever. He'd spent plenty of nights at 19 sleeping at bus stops in weird towns, that didn't mean he had to let some other kid now do it too. At least he'd had pants and a jacket when he had to, anyway.

Riley did want to. A little reserved, yeah, but when he said he could just double up with Dustin if they'd be more comfortable, they got kind of this… kicked dog look. They didn't say anything either way on that, so he said they could pick when they got up there.

Up there, and they wanted Jim to stay. Grabbing onto his shirt, asking if it was alright, right in front of Dustin, which… yeesh. It all made him blush, which didn't help the fucking look Dustin was judging him with.

But whatever. it was a big room, anyway— not a double, but there was a couch. And they were a kid— he wasn't gonna let them sleep in a hotel lobby until someone else came to help them out. not when he could.

And— yeah, Jim didn't really know Riley. different circles. but he had an impression of them. Brash, and loud, and really fitting to be MJFs mentee. They played the part well. it had barely been a few hours, but he was seeing how wrong that was. They had this high strung anxiety, a self depreciating streak in the center of their mean one. 

They were almost sweet. demurely sat up in his hotel bed, taking their tights off underneath the covers, asking if they could borrow something to sleep in—

Christ.

Maybe, digging though his suitcase until he found a shirt he didnt really plan on wearing, Dustin was right. Maybe Dustin was right to eye Jim the way he was, like he was a fucking—

He tossed the shirt to Riley and promptly put himself to bed on the too soft hotel couch, still fully dressed. He was just trying to do the right thing, dammit. That was all.

[cariantha]

Never Been Kissed

Book: Open Heart, Book 2 Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Sawyer Brooks) Rating: General Category: Fluff Word count: 1.8K Summary: Ethan helps Sawyer with one of her New Year’s resolutions. A/N: I woke up with this idea yesterday and hammered it out last night so I could post it in time for NYE. Please forgive any errors. Happy New Year!🎉🪩🍾

Events/Prompts: • Participating in CFWC Holidays 2023 • Participating in Choices Flashfics Week #66 Prompts 🫤3: “How much worse could it get?” • Participating in Choices Holidays Winter 2023

Sawyer had never kissed anyone on New Year's Eve. 

Every year, for as long as she could remember, she rang in the new year with her family. The tradition was due in part to the fact that it was also her father's birthday. Twelve years away at school, but she always returned home for the holidays, never missing the annual event. Even last year, her first in Boston, she was able to make it home. A trip made possible by the plane ticket Ethan had given her for Christmas, a generous thank-you gift for helping him with Naveen.

In recent years their family party grew to include significant others and their babies. Everyone had a special someone to kiss at midnight. Everyone but Sawyer. 

When she broke the news to her parents that she was staying in Boston for New Years, there was disappointment on both ends of the line. A couple weeks had passed since she returned to work, and the medical leave she took to recuperate from the attack had already eaten up more time than she could afford. She couldn’t spare any more time away. Her parents were understanding, and Sawyer found a silver lining in that she finally had a special someone to kiss at midnight this year.

At least that was the case until she looked at her schedule a week later. Zaid accommodated her request for extra shifts, allowing her to make up clinic hours. But given that she worked a double on Christmas, she didn’t expect another on New Year’s Eve. She should have known better. It was one of the busiest nights of the year in the emergency department.  

🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾

After a quick coffee break at Derry’s, Ethan helped Sawyer put her coat back on. He took the cream colored beanie that she pulled from her pocket and fitted it over her head. “Nice bunny tail,” he said, gently swatting the giant cotton ball sewn to the top of her knit hat. 

“Watch it, Mister, or you won’t be getting any of this tail for a while,” she turned and shook her rear end at him.

Just before they headed back inside the hospital, Sawyer squeezed his hand. “Sure you don’t want to volunteer and stay for another shift?” she asked, looking up at him with a puppy dog pout.

The first time Sawyer returned to work after the attack, with her landlord in tow, it had been a complete disaster. Though things had gone better this time around, Ethan kept an eye out for any signs of distress. She had her ups and downs, and he couldn't help but worry about her. "Is everything all right?"

“Yeah, it’s fine. You don’t need to worry. I promise,” she tried to assure him, sensing his concern. “I’m just going to miss you tonight, that’s all.” 

Ethan could still feel something was off, but dropped it.   

🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾🎉🪩🍾

It took him twice as long to get home with New Year’s revelers heading to their festivities around town. After a light dinner, a satisfying workout, and a long, hot shower, Ethan settled on his couch. The apartment suddenly felt too quiet, too empty. He missed his girlfriend. Since Sawyer began picking up double-shifts, they had not had a lot of time alone. Sure he got to see her at work. But it wasn’t the same as curling up together on the couch and talking about their day, or kissing whenever they felt like it, or waking up in each other’s arms. 

Hoping it would provide some distraction, he turned on the television and watched the local news. When the weather segment began, Ethan grew bored. He reached for a book on the coffee table, finding Sawyer’s notebook underneath. He recognized it from their DT meetings, where she took meticulous notes and sometimes doodled during their brainstorming sessions. She must have forgotten it the last time she stayed over. 

The way her mind worked fascinated him. She could be discussing the differences between apples and oranges when… Click! An idea would pop into her head to check their patient for uneven skin texture, giving her the lead needed to reach a successful diagnosis. 

Curious to know her thoughts about their current, undiagnosed patient, Ethan picked up the notebook and flipped through the pages. They were filled with detailed notes from each of their team meetings. Random side notes littered the margins. Tacos or burritos? He chuckled, wondering if the question was part of a diagnostic brainstorm, or if she was just hungry at the time. Turning the page to a more recent entry, he found Sawyer’s notes from a meeting he conducted last week. Ethan had attempted to inspire the team by conducting a goal-setting exercise. He asked everyone to jot down a few professional and personal goals for the new year. 

Several emotions washed over Ethan as he read her goals. She was cute as hell, but his heart broke a little knowing how much weight she still carried on her shoulders. 

On the TV, the New Year’s Eve countdown now aired. A correspondent stood in front of a large crowd of people gathered in Times Square. “…And according to folklore, a kiss at midnight brings luck and strength to that relationship for the rest of the year. So, who will you be kissing when the clock strikes twelve?” Ethan looked down at her list again. Is that why she wanted me to stay tonight? Was that the reason she seemed so… disappointed? 

A timer in the corner of the TV screen counted down the time to the famous ball drop. Forty minutes until midnight. 

Ethan never paid any mind to superstitions. Thinking back to the events of the past two years, he thought to himself, “How much worse could it get?” He shuddered at the thought, bolting to his closet where he threw on a pair of jeans and a sweater, then slipped into his running shoes. He was not going to take any chances, and most importantly, he was intent on giving Sawyer whatever she desired. If she wanted a kiss at midnight, he would make it happen. Keys and jacket in hand, the door to his apartment slammed shut behind him.

Ethan stepped into the atrium and checked the clock behind the reception desk. Fifteen minutes until midnight. 

He pushed through the doors of the emergency department a couple minutes later. It was eerily quiet. The calm before the storm. In about an hour, the waiting room would be packed with reckless and unfortunate party-goers. He didn’t see Sawyer anywhere, but wanting to confirm, Ethan inquired at the triage desk. 

“Happy New Year, Dr. Ramsey,” the triage coordinator greeted. 

“Happy New Year, Anabel. Have you seen Dr. Brooks?”

“About an hour ago? She mentioned trying to catch a quick nap before the midnight rush.”

“Thank you.”

Ethan made his way to the on-call room nearest the emergency room. When he opened the door, the beds were full of sleeping doctors, but Sawyer was not among them. After a quick peek in the cafeteria, he headed up to the Internal Medicine floor. The hallways were dim and quiet at this time of night. He checked all the obvious places. Staff lounge, empty. Resident locker room, empty. The on-call room was also empty, save for a pager that someone had left behind. Duh! 

“Could you page Dr. Brooks, please?” he asked the nurse sitting behind the circular desk. Not a moment later, the pager in his hand started to vibrate. 

Of course. He wondered if this was the universe mocking him for his skepticism.  

Jan, the night supervisor, quietly exited the patient’s room behind him. “Hey kiddo, I thought you went home a few hours ago?” She noticed the pager in his hand. “Did someone page you?”

“Uh, no. Jan, I’m looking for Sawy- for Dr. Brooks? Have you seen her?” he asked. 

“No, hon, but I’ve seen several folks making their way up to the helipad for the fireworks. Maybe she’s up there?”

Yes! She loves fireworks. Ethan looked at his wrist. Five minutes until midnight. 

After thanking the nurses, he walked with purpose to the elevator bank and punched the up button. Come on, come on! Four minutes to midnight. 

When he reached the seventh floor he jogged to the helipad entrance. The automatic glass doors slid open and a frigid gush of wind hit his face. With only the light of the helipad beacons, Ethan frantically scanned the gathered crowd. She’s not here. Dammit!  

He checked the time again. Two minutes until midnight.

As he turned to head back inside, he noticed a large chunk of snow falling from above. It fell from a secluded section of the rooftop that few knew how to access. Naveen referred to it as “the bird’s nest.” He shared its location with Ethan, and in turn, Ethan shared it with Sawyer. It was a place they could go when they needed a minute of peace. To his surprise, he saw what appeared to be a snowball floating in midair. Wait… not a snowball. A bunny tail! 

When he reached the stairwell, he glanced at his watch again. One minute until midnight.

Climbing the stairs three at a time, he quickly ascended two flights of stairs, bursting onto the ninth floor. Thankfully these hallways were lined mostly with administrative offices and were completely abandoned given the late hour. Sprinting to the end of the long hallway, Ethan pulled on a door marked “Authorized Personnel Only.” He launched himself through the dark doorway and blindly climbed another flight of stairs. 

Just as his hand reached the door at the top of the staircase, he heard an explosion on the other side. Midnight.

Sawyer jumped when she heard the steel door crash against the stone exterior of the building. Turning around, she saw Ethan. Steam puffed from his mouth as he tried to catch his breath. 

With the sky sparkling behind her, he grabbed the sides of her face, and crashed his lips onto hers. Once the urgency had subsided, he changed the angle and kissed her again. Deep and tender. When he pulled away to give his lungs a chance to expand, Sawyer could see the fireworks reflected in his eyes.

Tucked in his embrace, she smiled up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Helping you keep your New Year’s resolutions.” 

She looked at him confused. “Wait... how did you know about that?” She hadn’t remembered mentioning it to him, or anyone for that matter. 

“You left your notebook at my apartment.” He reached into his pocket and handed her the pager. “You also left this in the on-call room.”

“Shit. Please don’t tell my boss.” 

“You’ll have to silence me with another kiss,” he smirked. 

“Well, if that's what it takes...” she laughed, standing on her tiptoes. She brushed her lips against his and whispered, “Happy New Year, Ethan.” 

Before claiming her lips again, he whispered back, “Happy New Year, Rookie.” 

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[thenixkat]

also the president gave shoot on sight orders for the Joker. I dont think anyone would care if a superhero murdered the Joker who's orchestrating the mass death of thousands at this very moment, Nightwing. Get off yer fucking high horse

of course the Jokerization is randomly killing/dropping villains now. We can't have this ass pull have any real long term effects

faces

they got paid. so the doctor that diagnosed the Joker with a brain tumor was playing a prank on the Joker and didnt think it would go horribly wrong

folks making deals with that fuckin brainworm that i know is usually up to some shit

ok just spread the jokerness via tainted rain, sure, whatever

you were just fleeing from Joker the other issue why are you demanding being taken to him now? Fuck it, let Harley go to the Joker so he can rape and kill her, it's what she fucking wants right now. Let her get her dipshit ass killed.

also Dr. Langstrom is that Dr. Langstrom, the werebat. In this he turns when stressed.

there's a protocol in place for getting Dr. Langstron to calm his shit when he goes werebat. They shot him with some calming drugs

meanwhile, Harley is getting cavity searched for a 3rd time apparently by an overly gleeful lady soldier, cause sexual assault is funny when its lady on lady apparently.

Oracle calls in Huntress, a hero known for killing fuckers, to do whatever she feels necessary to save Robin and clear out some jokerized villains. Just dont tell Batman

jokerized, ugh, Killer Croc called dibs on some Robin wings

Nightwing you know better than trying to reason with the fucking Joker. Also staple gun

oh hey Batman put tracking devices in the costume upgrades he gave his allies. Gotta love that paranoid big brother bs. Someday folks are gonna get tired of that shit and beat Batman's ass

like that's rude as hell also fucking boob socks on the fucking bulletproof vest is a shitty art decision

i doubt Tim-Robin got eaten that quickly and Killer Croc is still fucking hungry. Tim's a decent-sized child, with plenty of meat

again, I don't think Tim-Robin is dead. An offscreen death in a miniseries that doesnt focus on him? I dont buy it

and even if he was he'd be back sooner rather than later

also since when does a superhero need to be sanctioned? I doubt Batman can keep every hero he doesnt like/wont bow to him out of Gotham

oh so now Nightwing is ok with killing Joker. It only took the Joker killing Jason, crippling Barbra, and killing Tim too. Damn, fuck you Nightwing

The Joker has to murder and maim multiple people that Dick is close to b4 dude would consider killing him. Man, I'd be pissed off at Nightwing if I lived in this world and had folks I knew murdered and maimed and the heroes only get serious when it gets personal

yeah, these heroes should have more enemies with the common people just for that alone. 'You had teh chance to stop a terrible fucker and chose not to. Repeatedly even tho the bodies kept pilling up' also the folks in charge with stopping the prison riot are …alive after getting sucked into a gravity well. B/c gravity wells transport fuckers to a pocket dimension instead of crushing the shit out of things in this world. They've been dodging the aquatic villains and murdering one villain who's power is he gets a new power every time he dies which is extremely unethical

Oracle switched positions and wants Batman to stop Nightwing from murdering the Joker.

let him kill the Joker and get him some therapy after, yall making this more of a problem than it needs to be

No shit Tim-Robin wasnt dead. They didnt even put a whole issue between the fake out and him being back

fucking bleeding hearted saps feeling bad about killing the Joker. Couldn't be me

Batman you should have let him die. Everyone the Joker kills after this is directly on your fucking head.

yall weak ass bitches. Everyone the Joker kills after this is on you all for reviving the fucker.

the put the Joker back in prison instead of just killing him. so he can escape again at some point for more adventures. Lex Luthor is the president, its not like he has fucking morals or that the global public doesnt want the Joker dead. Just kill him

and that's the end. There's no good reason for anyone involved to not just fucking kill the Joker

the villains dont like him, the heroes should kill him for the greater good and they'd actually be justified in this one case more than anything else, the world governments should want the Joker dead. No one benefits to the Joker continuing to be alive