#let the jacks have coffee and chill

[syddsatyrn]

Omg your requests are open. I've seen some of your work and it's amazing❤️

Can you do a smut with Lucifer. He's become my new obsession.

⛧Idle Time is the Devil's Play⛧ By Sydd Satyrn

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Shameless smut, fingering, swearing, fluff

⛧Words: 2.5k

⛧Notes: This was actually rather fun to write, thank you for the request! My head canon in this one is that Lucifer wears reading glasses.

The day started out on the wrong foot from the second you woke up. The dishes are piled up, laundry needs to be done, and how is there so much dust in here?! Nifty does her best to keep up but she's only one tiny person. You begin with the dishes, stack and stacks of plates and bowls, cups and flatware cover the counter. You let out a sigh of disappointment. After working for a short while, Angel Dust walks in with a surprised look on his face. “I thought you were dating the King of Hell, why are you wasting your time with chores?” The tall spider asks, holding a stack of dishes from his room. “Angel, I work here. I don't know how many times I have to tell you…” You reply with an eye roll. “Yeah, yeah, Charlie’s dreams, blah, blah, motherly nonsense. I’m just sayin’ you could totally slack off and get away with it.” He says, placing more dishes on the counter. You give him a side eye, and Angel laughs. “Chill out toots, I’m just playin’.” He says and heads back to his room. He’s right, you could slack off if you wanted to, but you felt the need to try for Charlie. You and Lucifer have been dating for a little over 6 months and within that time you’ve become rather fond of his sweet daughter and her dreams to rehabilitate sinners. So you took on a role at the hotel and did what you could to help make it possible. You wanted to impress Lucifer's daughter, maybe one day she might even see you as family, if you’re lucky.  You finally finish the dishes and take a step back and admire your handiwork. A clean sink, and counters, all the dirty dishes are now washed, dried and put away. It took a good chunk of the morning but it was worth it. The kitchen looks spotless and you decide to move onto the next chore. You tidied a few empty rooms and then delivered clean towels to each room with an occupant. You’re already running out of energy and it's only noon. “You look like you could use some coffee.” Husk says from behind the bar while wiping down the countertops. “You read my mind, Husker.” You say and take a seat at the bar. He pours you a cup of black coffee and sets it in front of you. “Thank you, you have no idea how much I need this.” “Don’t mention it” He says and returns to his countertops. Husk may seem grumpy all the time but you’ve come to know him as a rather genuine and helpful person.

You drink your coffee slowly and contemplate what you should do next. There are so many chores that need to be done, where should you even start? Nifty should be cleaning the bathrooms or taking out the trash by now. You decide to start dusting next, it shouldn't be too hard. 

After dusting the common areas, you begin on the hallways. You start at the top floor and work your way down. You hum quietly to yourself while wiping the window sills. As you turn a corner, you run into Angel Dust, and spill dusting spray all over his jacket. “Shit!” He says while wiping his jacked off with his hand, Angel looks frantic and upset, you’ve never seen him so scared. “I’m so sorry! Are you okay?!” You immediately apologize. “Y/N, I can't find Fat Nuggets anywhere! I took my eyes off of him for one second and he disappeared! My poor baby!” Angel says, clearly in a state. He looks like he might even cry. It’s gonna be okay, we just…need to split up! I’ll head downstairs and you stay up here.”You say, trying to remain calm. Angel nods, and you both go your separate ways.

You search all the rooms on the first and second floor, the lobby, the bar, and even the basement. There is no sign of the little pig. You were sure you would find him rooting around somewhere in the kitchen but still, no Fat Nuggets. You notice the back door is slightly ajar, you definitely didn’t use that door when you were down here earlier. You open it, expecting to have solved the mystery, but still nothing. You lean against the wall and let out a defeated sigh. “Dammit, Fat Nuggets, where are you?” You say out loud. Suddenly there is a rustlin noise inside a tipped over trash can. You lift the lid and inside is a very happy looking little pig. You scoop him up and give him a big hug, he must have gottens stuck out there looking for a snack. As you carry Fat Nuggets upstairs you hear a shriek of joy coming from Angel Dust. “My baby!” He cries as you hand him over. “Don't you ever leave my side again!” He says, baby talking to the little pig while giving him a snuggle. “I owe you one, Y/N.” Angel says with a smile. “Dont worry about it, I’m just happy we found the little guy.” You gently boop the little pig’s nose. —------------ As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, a sense of tranquility settled over the hotel. The warm glow of the fading sunlight painted the walls in soft, golden hues made the place feel somewhat serene. Finding Fat Nuggets took up the rest of your afternoon and you were feeling unusually exhausted. 

 You head down to the lobby and see Nifty cleaning up the last of the dusting you did earlier.

She greets you as usual. “Good Evening, Miss Y/N! How was your day?” She pauses her cleaning and stares up at you with her single cyclops eye. “I am so worn out, Nifty. How are you?” You return, smiling down at her tiny figure.

“I’m okay. There aren't as many bugs in the hotel to squish anymore so I’m getting pretty bored.” You smile at her, Not entirely sure how to respond to that statement. She always says the wildest stuff, but you’re used to it. Alastor says she's always been pretty quirky. “You should go spend time with your boyfriend.” Nifty teases,”I’ll deal with the rest of the chores.” “Thank you, I could really use a break. Today was a mess.” You say with a sigh of relief. After walking down the long, lavish hallway to Lucifer's room. You open the door slowly, you don't want to wake him if he is asleep. The King is already in bed wearing nothing but a robe and his reading glasses. The lamp next on the bedside table is the only source of light in the room. The blonde haired man is reading a book and glances over at you when he hears you come in. “I was wondering when you’d be here.” He says with a smile on his face. He closes his book and sets it on the nightstand along with his gold rimmed glasses. “Sorry I’m late, I’ve had a really long day.” You admit as you sit on the edge of the bed. “Oh? What did you get up to today?” He asks and crawls toward you. “There was a lot to do around the hotel today, a mountain of dishes and so much cleaning. Like seriously, where does all this dust come from?! Then Angel lost Fat Nuggets and he was outside…” You ramble on and Lucifer listens intently. “Fat Nuggets?” Lucifer chuckles and cocks his head to the side. “His pet pig.” You remind him. “Oh, I see…” Lucifer places his hand on your cheek. His warm touch sends shivers down your spine. He pulls your face closer and kisses your lips gently. Your heart flutters and you kiss him back, blushing slightly.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here now.” Lucifer laughs, knowing exactly what he's doing to you. “Sounds like you need some time off. I notice you do a lot around here, you shouldn’t wear yourself out like that.” “I just want to show Charlie that I support her dream and believe in her.” Your words make Lucifer’s heart swell, the fact that you are trying so hard to impress his daughter is quite possibly the cutest thing he’s ever seen. He smiles at you, his expression full of love and admiration. You return his smile, your face bright red. He pulls you in for a tight hug, burying his face into your hair. “You’re doing just fine, my love. You can let up a little.” He whispers in your ear, “You should let me take care of you for a couple days.” Lucifer's voice is sticky sweet, you can see why Eve was so easily swayed. You melt into his arms and he kisses the top of your head. “I know exactly what you need…” Lucifer days, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. “Do you…?” You ask and giggle at his bold statement. He reluctantly lets go of you and takes off to the bathroom connected to his room. You can hear him turn on the faucet to fill up the tub. Lucifer walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later, he grabs your hand and pulls you close, his eyes half lidded. He kisses your cheek and wraps his arm around your shoulder. “Come with me, my dear.” He leads you to the bathroom, the tub is filled about half way with warm water. The room is filling with steam and the lights are low, a few candles are lit. The ambiance is warm and charming just like he is. Your eyes widen and you feel Lucifer hands tug at your clothes, silently telling you to take them off. Your face feels hot as you start to remove your clothing, piece by piece. You leave them in a pile on the floor, trying your best to keep your composure. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting this…” You say, Lucifer smirks, pleased with himself and your reactions. He removes his robe, revealing his perfect body. He steps into the tub and turns to you.

"Well, are you coming or not?" He teases, you take his hand and slowly get in the tub with him. He sits behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you just a bit closer. Together, you both leaned back against the edge of the tub, letting the warmth of the water soothe your weary muscles. The stress of the day melted away, you could feel your muscles relax, you lean the back of your head on his shoulder, breathing him in.

"See? Isn't this much better?" Lucifer purrs in your ear.  

You nod and let your eyes close. You can feel him kiss your temple and you can't help but smile. “I definitely needed this…”You murmured, Lucifer's hands begin to roam your body, his hands trace down your arms. 

"You have the most beautiful skin...I can't help but touch it." He whispers and kisses your neck, you sigh softly. "And you always smell like vanilla, I adore that..."

“You flatter me, Lucifer.” You reply. He kisses the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His hands begin to massage your shoulders, "Are you cold?" He asks, noticing the goosebumps forming on your skin. With gentle hands, his fingertips traced delicate patterns along the contours of your skin. In the hushed ambiance, time seemed to slow, as if caught in the embrace of the moment. “No, I’m fine.” You assure him.” You’re just really good with your hands.” “Is that so?” Lucifer says with a playful tone. He can barely contain himself, the way your body responds to his touch is fascinating to him. Lucifer's hands travel lower down your torso and gently cup your breasts. You hum softly and push your body closer to his.

"My, you're a needy one tonight, aren't you?" He chuckles and runs his thumbs over your nipples. "I think I know exactly how to help you." His hands travel lower and lower until they reach your core. Your breath hitches and your face turns a bright shade of red and Lucifer notices. "Is that okay, my love?" He asks, making sure he's not overstepping his bounds.

"Y-yes, it's more than okay.”

Lucifer's fingers explore your folds, teasing and prodding. His movements are slow and deliberate, as if he's trying to memorize every inch of your body. You gasp as he enters a finger into you. You moan softly and your back slightly arches. "That's it, my love, just let go, let me take care of you." The King’s tone is lustful and alluring. Lucifer adds a second finger and starts thrusting in and out, his thumb rubs your clit. He moves his fingers faster and harder. “Luci…fuck…” You swear followed by another moan, the pleasure is overwhelming. You can feel him smile against your skin, his hand working wonders between your thighs. You bite your lip and whimper, gripping the edge of the tub. Lucifer bites the tip of your ear and quickens his pace. “That’s it my dear, are you gonna cum for me?” Lucifer groans and pushes his fingers deeper inside you. You let out a whimper, a feeling of warmth growing deep within your core. Between the steam from the bathtub and all the stimulation you start to feel a little dizzy. Lucifer groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck. He focuses back on your clit, his middle finger massaging little circles, picking up speed with each second that passes. You can't stop the moans from escaping your mouth, the pleasure is too much. You can't hold back any longer and your body is rocked with wave after wave of pleasure. Lucifer's fingers move slower, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, your face is bright red. Lucifer pulls his fingers out and wraps his arms around you, hugging you tight.

"Are you alright?" He asks, kissing your neck. You nod and completely relax into Lucifer's body. You lay in the bathtub together, his fingers caress your arm, he presses another kiss to your temple.

"I think it's time you got some rest." He says, barely above a whisper. You both get out of the tub and Lucifer wraps a towel around you.

"You're absolutely perfect." He says with a grin and kisses your nose. You smile at him, continue to dry off and wrap your hair in a towel. Lucifer loans you a pair of his silk pajamas, they are just slightly too big for you. But all that does is add to how comfortable they are. You lay in bed next to him, the covers pulled over your shoulders. He pulls you close and runs his fingers through your hair.

"So, tomorrow you will do no chores, no errands, just relax and take it easy.” He says, with a slightly demanding tone. You lay your head down on his bare chest and he picks up his book. “Yes sir…no chores…” You murmured against his skin. “He chuckles, "Good girl. That's what I like to hear.” He praises while putting his glasses back on. You're exhausted from the day and can barely keep your eyes open. Before long, you fall asleep in the arms of your love, ready for a trouble free day tomorrow. 

[mikkomacko]

Him and I - Falling Angel

Pairing: Mob Nico Hischier x reader

Warnings: crying, discussion of violence and death, a little bit of angst but mostly fluff with our fav mafioso

Previous

Enjoy! xx

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You spend a lot of time staring at walls and ceilings now. Not that you particularly like it, but it’s one of the few things that doesn’t make your head pound. The pain is getting better, you don’t have to hide in the dark bedroom every other hour anymore but it still leaves you dizzy and upset.

These are your last few days in Switzerland and you get to spend them laying on the couch. At least the boys have found a way to keep you company and keep themselves busy.

“Pass, pass, pass!”

Jack has always been loud. You’ve known that since the moment you met him and could hear his voice over everyone’s else’s in The Rock for the rest of the night. Nico used to joke that he was so good with the ladies because he was the only one they could actually hear.

Even with his attempts to be quiet for your sake, his voice makes your temple throb. You eye twitches uncomfortably, gaze half focused on the FIFA game on the tv as Luke’s character passes to Jack. You don’t know how they manage to follow along with so much happening, but it’s entertaining to watch them.

Knowing if you keep watching you’ll eventually throw up your lunch all over the living room, you instead watch them. The coffee table has been moved to the far end of the room, the large fur rug that once lay in front of the fire now lays in front of the couch. All four Devs boys are sprawled out on it, backs against the sofa and feet stretched out towards the fire place.

They’ve been like that for days, sat on the floor together with controllers and Gatorades. And you usually take up the other couch, tucked under a blanket and head flat on the cushion so you just have to press your cheek into the fabric to watch them. That or look up at the white ceiling and watch the fan spin round and round.

Jack and Luke must score because they high five each other and attempt to quietly cheer while Alex throws his head back against the couch and Mercer pulls at the fluffy rug in frustration.

You wince, not sure if it’s from the volume or guilt for not telling the boys that Nico had fucked you into the fur of that very rug just a couple days ago. Before you can think on it too much, soft fingers are brushing the side of your face, drawing your attention.

Nico stands above you, leaning over the back of the couch to press his palm into your forehead. His skin is cold, finger tips chilled from getting more firewood from outside, and you lean into it, the weight of his hand dulling the pounding in your head. He frowns down at you, flicks his eyes up towards the boys.

“Inside voices or m’taking the game away.” He warns, and that’s not the first time you’ve heard those words lately. Almost immediately the boys fall silent, hushed whispering filling the air before someone gently apologizes.

“It’s ok,” you say, closing your eyes and letting Nico’s hold anchor you. “S’not you guys.”

His thumb strokes over your hairline. “What do you need baby?”

You shake your head, blinking your eyes open to look at him. Nico just watches you for a moment, silent and observant with his lips pursed. Fortunately he doesn’t look at you all sad and guilty anymore, even in moments when he knows you’re hurting.

“M’gonna change and then come lay with you, ok?”

Nico leaves, taking the cool feeling of his hand with him and annoyance bubbles in your gut. Slowly, you get up from the couch, trying to avoid any head rushes or dizziness as you tiptoe around the boys.

“What do you need? I’ll get it.” Luke is already moving to get on his feet, almost tripping you as you step over his lanky legs.

“I’m good. Just getting some water.” You assure, laughing when he lifts a hand up for you to hold as you walk. The rest of the boys take after him, all holding out their palms to keep you steady as you navigate their gangle of limbs.

You don’t need the help, but the gesture is so sweet it burns in your chest and you instinctively reach up to touch the pendant around your neck.

“Hey.”

A knot forms in your throat, your fingers tightening around the little devil horns. Timo is leaning against one of the counter tops, drying off his hands.

You swallow, turning to open the cabinet with the cups.

“Hey.”

Moving to the fridge, you keep your gaze down and fill up the glass with water. It’s awkward, just as it has been since he left you at the hospital. Timo’s never been good at fixing things, and you’ve never been good at giving him the chance to even try.

“You look a lot better,” he says tentatively. “The bruising and stuff.”

Bringing the glass up to your lips, you just nod and take a sip. It feels wrong to walk away from him, so you don’t. You just stand there, holding your water and staring out the kitchen window.

“Are you ever gonna look at me again?”

You shrug, take another drink of water and try to ignore the pounding of your heart in your throat. Timo sighs, and you can picture him rubbing at his right eye like he always does.

“What do I have to do to fix this? You want to me get on my knees and beg? Cry?”

This time you do look over at him, stomach twisting when you meet his gaze. The usually bright and beautiful blue of his eyes is dull and cold, so sad and unlike your best friend.

“I don’t know,” you murmur, because you really don’t. You want to fix this, want to forgive Timo but it’s hard for you to get over feeling betrayed, especially by him.

“You forgave Nico,” he argues weakly, “what’s the difference.”

Bristling, you scoff. “The difference is that it’s Nico. I get why he’d be hesitant about my abilities, not you. You’re the one I train with, the one I’ve spent miserable hours with learning to fight and survive. And you still doubted me.”

Timo’s offended, you can tell by the way he stands up straighter and tilts his head to the side. Narrowed eyes zeroing in on you. “I was just following orders, doing what I was told.”

It’s a valid point, at least to him. And that makes it hurt even more. Even though he’s your best friend, he still chose Nico over you. His loyalty still doesn’t lie with you let alone the both of you, as it should.

“I don’t care,” you mumble, looking back out the window. Tears have begun to prickle behind your eyes and you don’t really want to cry in front of him right now. “M’sure Marcelo was just following orders too. Doesn’t mean it’s right.”

“Don’t do that, don’t make me seem like him.”

Timo scoffs. “I didn’t say that,” you argue “but it’s funny that you immediately attached yourself to him.”

Rubbing at your burning eyes, you blink a few times and notice it’s begun snowing outside. You wish you could go out there and bury your head in the piles of it.

“I wouldn’t hurt you like that.” Timo defends but he sounds flat, like he’s lost all the fight in him.

You have too, and you want to go lay down and sleep. “No, you wouldn’t,” you agree with him, “but you’d hurt me in other ways, that’s for sure.”

“Y/n-“

“Enough,”

Nico’s voice startles you, a bit of water spilling from your glass when you jump and turn to the entry way. He’s changed into a pair of sweatpants, chest bare as his hoodie and coat have been forgotten somewhere upstairs.

He’s not looking at you, dark eyes instead focus on Timo and while he doesn’t look mad, he’s obviously annoyed.

“You can fight with her about this later, when she’s better. Not now.” He tells him gruffly, uncrossing his arms and stepping into the kitchen.

As if he were pulling you by a string, you meet him halfway and step into his chest. Maybe you’re being dramatic or a baby about this, but you can’t help it. You’re hurt, both physically and emotionally and while Nico does have a part in it, he’s also the only person that truly makes you feel safe.

It’s unfair to Timo, you know that. But you deserve to be a little unfair right now.

“Tired,” you mumble, nose pressing into his collarbone. Nico wraps an arm around you, presses his fingers to the back of your head protectively.

“Let’s go lay down,” he instructs, and you hum in agreement, letting him lead you back towards the living room. The blinds have been lowered, dimming the light in the room and the other Devs boys have turned off the game in favor of scrolling through Netflix.

A part of you wonders if Nico told them to. It wouldn’t surprise you and you can practically picture him standing over them, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed as he instructs them to quiet down and turn the game off.

“What are we watching?” You ask, placing your water on the side table and waiting for Nico to sprawl out on the couch before you settle between his thighs. He sits up so you can lean back on his chest, his skin warm even though the fabric of your shirt.

“Whatever you want,” Mercer replies casually, but you don’t want to pick. Especially not after you pull a throw blanket up and over your legs, snuggling into Nico. Your eyes already feel droopy and heavy, tired brain unable to think of a movie you even like.

“Holtzy can pick,” you decide, sending him a lazy wink when he looks over at you. A sly grin takes over his face.

“I told you she wouldn’t want to pick,” he address Nico, “she’ll be out in two seconds tops.” You hear your boyfriend scoff, slipping his hand under your shirt to rest in your belly. You silently laugh and he lightly pinches at the softness of your stomach when he feels your shoulders shake.

Alex puts on an Adam Sandler comedy, one of the new ones you haven’t seen yet and you’re glad. Nico loves comedies but he hates rewatching movies, so at least he’ll be entertained.

Tilting your head back, you pucker your lips and press a kiss to the scar under Nico’s chin. His scuff is growing out, and it tickles your lips enough that you have to scratch at them afterwards but it makes him chuckle so you don’t care.

Settling back into his chest, you watch the into of the movie through droopy eyes. Timo comes into the living room just before your eyes fall shut, settling into the couch behind the other boys. You don’t see if he looks over at you and Nico, but it feels like he does just before you fall asleep.

~~~~

You’ve never been a fan of early rising, not until you met Nico. He likes to get his days started right away, likes to be out in the sun and feel like he’s actually doing something. When you first started seeing him you thought maybe he was lying about simply liking the morning. Like maybe he had undiagnosed anxiety or was a workaholic and couldn’t let himself sleep in.

Now you think he really just likes the morning.

And you don’t blame him. The house in Switzerland is peaceful, silent except for the groggy words exchanged between the two of you and the cautious movements of making breakfast without waking the boys.

Nico’s in his briefs and a black hoodie, pin straight hair tangled on the left side of his head and eyes still puffy. Even so he looks handsome, all dimples and sleepy smiles as you help him whisk eggs for breakfast.

The quiet is nice. Not that you don’t love the ruckus of having your family in the house with you, but you also love the moments you can just exist with Nico.

No Jack also means no pounding headache.

“Why are you drinking that?” You ask Nico when he places two glasses of iced matcha on the countertop in front of you.

He shrugs, sliding one over to you before bringing the other up to his lips and taking a sip. You don’t miss the way his nose slightly scrunches, green foam lingering on his top lip.

Giggling, you reach over the island counter and cup his jaw, wiping the matcha away with your thumb.

“You like it,” he explains, catching your wrist when you pull back and bringing it closer, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Figured I’d try again.”

His voice is still deep and gruff, lazy accent lisping some of the words and it’s so cute you can’t help but smile at him.

The compliment is on the tip of your tongue, eager to jump out just so you can see him blush and get all shy, but the words never come. They’re forgotten by the soft knock on the front door.

Eyebrows furrowing, Nico looks at you and then towards the entryway to the front door, and back to you.

“Don’t look at me,” you say, taking your hand back and reaching for your glass instead. “I don’t know anyone here.” You take a drink, following him out of the kitchen and down the short hallway.

The figure of a woman looms through the blurred glass of the door, but Nico must recognize her because he puts a hand out to stop you.

Your heart stutters, fear clawing at your throat when he turns to you and looks worried. You know that look, know what it means. Whoever is outside the door shouldn’t be here, more for your sake than Nico’s.

Immediately you think of Lena, imagine that somehow she’s found her way back to Switzerland and is here to torment you some more.

“Shit, sorry, s’ok I swear,” he immediately soothes, taking your face in his hands. Nico strokes your cheeks, biting at his lip as you let his words sink in for a second. It’s not until you’ve taken two deep breathes do you realize that you’re practically tearing a hole in his hoodie where you’ve biting your hand in the fabric to hold onto him.

“S-sorry,” you whisper embarrassed, struggling to get your knuckles to relax.

He shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry for that,” he tells you earnestly, whatever else he was gonna say interrupted by another knock on the door.

“Nico, I can hear you at the door. Open up.”

It’s his mother, you realize, immediately understanding why he looked at you like that. You haven’t seen Katja since the family lunch all those days ago and you suppose she’s heard about what happened and is here to talk about it with Nico. Especially since one of the people you forced Luca to banish did business with Rino.

You let go of Nico and take a deep breath, placing your hand on his back in what you hope is a comforting manner as he undoes the lock and opens the door.

Katja is dressed to the nines, her styled hair tucked under a fur winter hat that matches the long fur coat she wears. Diamonds peak out from under the collar, matching the ones on her ears and her finger. You look down, notice that even her snow boots are slick and elegant, and somehow look like they even have a heel in them.

Suddenly the boxers you stole from Nico and his old Team Suisse shirt feel like rags on you.

Kicking the fresh snow off her boots, she enters the house and you and Nico both step back in sync. As if being approached by a dog with foam at its lips.

“Glad to see you’re still a morning bird,” she says in greeting, adjusting her Chanel purse in the crook of her elbow.

“You too,” Nico replies, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame the tangles and knots. “Father still asleep?”

Katja clicks her tongue. “You know how he is, him and Luca, out like logs until at least 10.”

Insecure and unsure of what to do, you just nod at her words and reach up to fix the cowlick at the nape of Nico’s neck for him. That was the wrong move, however, because now she’s looking at you.

“Hello y/n,” she says politely, and while her face looks just as emotionless as it did when you met her, there’s something in her tone that’s different. Something that feels familiar.

“Good morning Katja,” you croak out, fingers finding your pendant and clutching at the metal. “Do you want coffee or anything? Nico and I were making breakfast if you want to stay?”

You’re rambling, you know that, but it’s suddenly hit you that she’s looking at the bruises on your throat and the healing stitches on your head. The last thing you want is for her to say something, and you’re tempted to duck behind Nico and hide.

Instead you keep yapping.

“Nico take your moms coat and-“

“That’s quite alright,” she cuts in, stopping Nico from reaching for her things. “I stopped by to see if you’d like to take a drive with me?”

You freeze, mouth parted in confusion and dig your fingertips against the pointy horns of the devils charm.

“Mother we’re not even dressed-“

“Not you,” she cuts him off, “just y/n.”

Once again you don’t even know what to say. What does she want with you? Is she mad about Lena’s family? Does she want to take you away from Nico so she can banish you from the country as well?

Realistically you know that would do nothing to keep you from Nico. He’d give up Switzerland for you, you’re sure of it. He’s given it up before for less. The thought is still terrifying though, mostly because she’s terrifying.

“She doesn’t go without me,” Nico states firmly, reaching his hand behind him for you. You cling to it, hold on for dear life to keep from spiraling into an anxiety attack.

Katja looks at him with stern eyes and an unimpressed tilt of her head. You don’t know what makes you say it but before either of them can speak you spitting out an agreement.

“Of course I’ll go,” you squeeze Nico’s fingers when he whips around to look at you. “Just let me change.”

Pleased, she folds her hands in front of her and nods. Nico stares at you in bewilderment, shaking his head and turning to hide you from his mother with his body.

“It’s ok,” you whisper to him. “I’ll just go for a bit and I’ll call you if I need to.”

He just keeps shaking his head. “You’re still recovering, and you don’t know what she wants or-“

“She’s your mother, Nico. It doesn’t matter what it is, I need to go.”

Unimpressed and annoyed, he sighs through his nose. You let go of his hand, reach up to hold his pouting cheeks. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you force a smile.

“What’s the worst that can happen?” You joke, but he doesn’t think that’s funny by the way he glances at the wounds on your skin and scoffs.

You kiss his cheek in apology, quickly ducking away and towards the stairs to change. Hopefully giving him a bit with just his mother will calm him down, and give him a chance to set some ground rules.

Toothbrush hanging between your lips and deodorant stick in hand, you picture him standing over Katja, hands on his hips as he tells her how long you can be gone, what streets and neighborhoods to avoid, that you’re phone is to be on and in your hand every second.

Capping the deodorant, you finish scrubbing your teeth, spitting toothpaste into the sink with a grin. Nico can be overbearing and overprotective, but you love him for it. His instructions and rules never feel like too much, like he’s restricting you. Instead they make you feel safe, loved. It’s a nice feeling to have again after feeling so scared and embarrassed lately.

Ten minutes later you’re tiptoeing down the stairs to find Nico sitting across from his mother in the living room, the mess of pillows and blankets from the boys splayed out on the floor between them.

“Sorry about the mess,” you tell her, Nico rising at the sound of your voice. He’s got your coat in his arm and your boots resting by his feet. “The boys stayed up late playing video games last night.”

Katja looks around, slightly confused. “The boys?”

Nico holds your jacket open for you, helps you slip your arms in. “From Jersey,” he answers. “A few of them flew out to see her.”

You turn and his fingers fall to the zipper, latching it and dragging it up to your chest. He’s still pouting when you look at him, thick fingers now snapping the buttons shut for you.

Katja makes a noise of understanding. Holding Nico’s shoulders for balance, you shove your feet into the boots, not even thinking about tying them since you’re just sitting in the car. That’s not good enough for Nico though because he sits back in the couch, leaning down to tie them for you.

Your cheeks burn, Katja’s gaze heavy on you as her son bundles you up through grumpy sighs and petulant eyes. Dodging her eyes, you wiggling your feet in your too-tightly tied boots while Nico rises to his feet again.

“Phone?” He questions and you dig it out of your pocket to show him you have it. Nodding proudly, you put it away and he smooths your hair down.

“30 minutes,” he informs you, and you try not to laugh as his predictability. “If you’re gonna be late, if roads are bad, if you don’t feel well you call me.”

You nod through his words, making sure to not look away from his eyes so he knows you’re listening. “Don’t get down anywhere, unless you absolutely have to, and don’t talk to anyone but Katja, understand?”

Narrowing your eyes, you hold your fingers to your forehead and salute him. “Aye aye boss,” you joke and he rolls his eyes, features easing up as he fights off an amused smile.

“Alright, alright,” Nico relents, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of your head before dropping his hands to his hips. “Get outta here, I’m gonna get ready and finish breakfast for when you get back.”

“Ok,” you murmur, lightly taking his chin between your thumb and pointer finger, overgrown beard tickling the pads of them. “Just don’t shave, alright?”

He looks at you fondly, something warm swirling in those pretty brown eyes of his. “Aye aye boss,” he mocks, left eye fluttering into a wink.

You let go, clearing your throat and turning to Katja. “Ready?”

She’s watching you both with a raised eyebrow, curiosity swimming in her eyes and the look is so similar to Nico it makes you stutter, as if she’s looking right into you the way he does.

“Yes, very well,” she rises from the couch, looks at Nico. “I’ll obey the rules, Nico.”

He doesn’t give any indication that he’s heard her and it makes your skin crawl uncomfortably. “Let’s go then,” you say weakly, motioning to the door. Nico follows you out, stands in the open doorway as Katja gets into the backseat of a black car. You look back at him, meet those strong and certain eyes of his.

And he nods just once, his silent way of telling you he’s sure it’s ok, it’s safe. You slide in behind his mother, let the driver close the door behind you and watch him through the tinted window as the car rolls down the snow covered driveway.

~~~~

Katja spends the first five minutes of her time in silence. The car creeps down the freshly cleared roads, a cruising pace like it has all the time in the world. You hold your phone in you hand, anxiously lighting up the screen every 30 seconds to check the time and make sure Nico didn’t call or text.

Finally, she motions to the driver and a partition slides up, sealing you two off from other ears. For some reason, that makes you more nervous. Why does she not want her driver listening in?

Sweating, you press the seat warmer button to lower the temperature. Across the car, Katja clears her throat.

“For a moment back there, I thought you and Nico were hiding grandchildren from me.”

It catches you off guard. Of all the things to talk about, she’s saying that? Even more confusing, what does she mean by that? What could make her think you and Nico were secretly parenting children this whole time?

Sending your confusion, she continues. “The mess at the house and the ‘boys’ you referred to. I was afraid I had missed out another part of my son’s life.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly, fiddling with your phone and looking over at her. She’s already looking at you. “Um, Nico wouldn’t do that-we wouldn’t do that. I know he doesn’t share a lot, but he’d share that.”

She lips curl into just the tiniest smile, her eyes gleaming with mirth. “I believe you know my son very well. Apparently you don’t know how much he despises this family.”

Shockingly, she doesn’t sound angry or upset. Neutral, like she’s reporting the weather to you. It makes your heart ache for her. You can’t imagine being a mother and feeling nothing when your child doesn’t like you.

That’s an experience you don’t want to have.

“He loves you,” you tell her, feeling like she has to at least know that. “He tells me that all the time. That he does love everyone here, but he’s different from you.”

Her fingers clench in her lap, so quickly you think you might have imagined it. The rest of her stays stoic and poised.

“I raised Nico in a very specific way. All three of my children were planned, brought up in different ways. It’s simply the way this life works.

“Nico never wanted to be a part of it.”

You don’t really get what she’s saying. It doesn’t matter. Katja glances at your throat, something sad settling in her eyes and continues talking.

“My husband is an only child. He inherited the business from his father. And that left him vulnerable. From the moment Rino and I married we knew we wanted three children, enough to keep the business - and those around it- safe.

“I’m afraid that lesson never made it to Nico. He was always a little rebellious, always stubborn-“

“Determined,” you quickly add, smiling softly when Katja lights up at the word. “Once something is in his head, there’s no stopping it.”

She chuckles fondly. “Yes, determined. And he was determined to get as far away from us as possible.”

The car keeps rolling through the town, the clock shows you have twenty more minutes before Nico will be tearing through the streets, most likely with the boys behind me, still dressed in pajamas and half asleep.

“Nico didn’t see what the business was like when it was just Rino. The way it left us- me vulnerable.”

Katja clears her throat uncomfortably. A rock settles in your gut, the purpose of this conversation becoming clear.

“You were hurt.” It’s not a question. You know the answer.

She inhales, “Yes, a few times. Back then it wasn’t terrible, there was a code against harming the women of the business. But I was intimidated, taken, scared. Anything to rattle Rino, make him give it all up.”

“Did he ever try?” You ask.

Katja nods. “He said he would try but we both know he wouldn’t. This is his life, it’s all he’s known. So we expanded instead, planned our kids and where they would be. In order to protect each other.”

That’s why he was supposed to go to Germany, that’s why his whole life was planned out for him. He was meant to have the role since before he was even born.

You can’t imagine how angry his parents must have been when he vanished.

“Nico being overseas doesn’t give him that protection.” You state.

Katja simply nods, eyebrows pinching sympathetically. “And by extension, you either.”

The car falls silent as you take in her words. Suddenly you’re mad. What right does she have in telling you this? Of showing her disappointment in Nico’s decisions and turning it on you?

“Are you trying to scare me into not being with him?” You snip, “Tell me I’m not safe, that I won’t ever be because you don’t like that Nico chose his own life?”

The time on her little car ride is winding down. The driver circles the block, begins the slow drive back to the house.

“I’m trying to make sure you know what you’ve gotten into,” Katja replies back, her tone a little heated.

“I do know. I-“

“Are you going to marry Nico?”

You pause, confused on the sudden shift but nod. “Yeah I am.”

She looks out the window for a moment and you wonder if somehow you’ve become the most disappointing thing in Nico’s life to her.

Then she turns back.

“This life will always be harder for us,” shockingly, Katja reaches her left hand out and places it on your forearm. “We have taught Nico very well, all of our children. But he’s the first of them to bring marriage into his business. And the fear that comes with that? The sacrifice? It’s something that can’t be taught.”

You understand where Katja comes from. And you’ve known that Nico will never know what it’s like to be in your place as the wife of the boss. If anything, this trip shows that. He had no understanding at all for what happened with you and Lena.

But Katja has failed to take into account that this happened away from home, away from the Devs.

“It’s not a business to us,” you say softly, placing your hand over hers. The large diamond ring on her finger cuts into your palm. “In Jersey, we’re a family. And Nico has made sure everyone in that family knows we take care of each other.”

Katja is such a hard woman to read. She’s always composed and cold, like a Barbie doll brought to life. For the first time since you’ve met her, emotion swells in her gaze and it takes you moment to realize its relief.

She’s been scared. This whole time she was scared for Nico and his safety. Maybe even for your safety.

You swallow, look down at where your hand is holding hers. “I know Nico disappointed you all when he left, but you should know that you gave the world the most strong, level-headed, and capable man I’ve ever met.”

Katja is watching you through wet eyes when you meet her gaze. “He is so easy to love,” you say earnestly. “Even when he’s purposely trying to make it difficult.”

That makes her laugh. You imagine Nico’s always enjoyed pushing against those that love him, testing the strength of that bond.

“I wouldn’t have chosen him and this life if I didn’t think he was worth it. And I can say the same thing for the dozens of boys and men back home that have followed him too.

“We’re not vulnerable, we’re not alone. We’re a family.”

Katja sniffles, blinking away the tears in her eyes and you let go of her hand so she can collect herself. Giving her a moment, you unlock your phone to text Nico that you’re almost home. As usual his response is instant.

Good, I miss you

You bite at your lip, overwhelmed with how much you fucking love him. Another text comes in.

Do I need to kill her?

Unfortunately, you have no idea if he’s saying that to make you laugh or if he’s actually serious. A part of you thinks he’s actually serious. Somehow, that makes it even funnier.

Nico is on the doorstep when you the car pulls up to the house. He’s put on jeans and a beanie, the same hoodie from this morning covering his torso.

His eyes follow the driver as he climbs out of the car and comes around to open your door. You step out, meet Nico’s gaze and hope he can read you. Like always, he can and you can see him visibly relax from across the way.

Katja slips out of the car behind you, whispering something in Swiss German to her driver before walking up the drive with you.

“Mother,” Nico greets, pushing off the doorway he was leaning against. “You’re thirty seconds late.”

She breathes out a laugh, shaking her head fondly at her son and much to your enjoyment, Nico’s cheeks flush. You watch him bite back his grin, try to hide his own amusement even though his dimples give it away immediately.

“My apologies son,” Katja says warmly, not even a bit sorry. Pulling your hands into your sleeves, you squeeze them together to fight off the cold and wonder how Nico could possibly be standing out here in just his hoodie.

Both him and Katja notice at the same time, Nico reaching out for your elbow and pulling you up a step. Instinctively you give him your hands, curling forward when he takes them between his and brings them up to his mouth. Blowing warm air on them, you catch his mother’s eye and feel your ears burn with shyness.

You wonder if she’s used to seeing Nico like this, if she remembers how sweet and kind he is. Did he even get to be like this around them? Or was his life always so cold and scripted?

Katja’s eyes shine with pride, her left eye falling into an effortless wink before settling back on her son.

“I should let you two get back inside, warm up and rest.”

Nico straightens out, still cupping your hands in his large ones. He looks confused, probably having expected more from her visit. You’ll have to tell him that this might have been your favorite moment from the whole trip.

“Before I go,” she digs into her purse, pulls out a little black box and you feel your heart jump into your throat. “I wanted to give you this.”

You pull back from Nico so he can take the box, his own fingers trembling now as he grabs it from her palm. Looking up at him, he looks shocked. Lips parted in awe.

“This is…” he trails off, opens it to reveal the most stunning silver wedding band you’ve ever seen. The diamond is smaller than the one Katja has on, but it’s bright and beautiful, surrounded by tiny little green gems. “This is supposed to go to Luca.”

Nico’s argument sounds weak and breathless, like he’s in disbelief and doesn’t even know what to do with the ring. Based on his words you guess it’s a family heirloom, a ring from a grandmother or great grandmother that is supposed to go to the oldest son.

Katja shakes her head, reaches over to gently close the lid of the box and rest her fingers over Nico’s. “It goes to the son that most deserves it.”

She looks over at you, gives you a smile that is so motherly and tender it makes you ache. “A man is only as strong and capable as the women behind him,” she turns to Nico. “And you son, are the strongest and most capable man I could’ve ever hoped to bring into this world.”

~~~~

You and Nico don’t talk about it. He presses a kiss to the side of your head as you stand in the entryway, peeling off your boots and jacket. Then he’s dashing up the stairs, and you clean up and put away all your layers.

In the kitchen you find breakfast still warm on the stove so you serve two plates for you and Nico, putting the rest aside for the boys when they get up. You drink your slightly watered down matcha, throwing Nico’s in the sink because you know he won’t drink it and pull out the cold brew you’d put in the fridge for him yesterday.

He comes into the kitchen just as you’re adding a bit of milk to it, eyes lighting up when he sees it. “Where’d ya get that?”

“The fridge,” you sass, laughing when he sneaks up behind you and wraps his arms around your middle. His beard tickles your skin when he tucks his face into the crook of your neck, pressing loud and obnoxious kisses there.

He’s gentle, careful to not agitate your healing bruises and the soft movements make you laugh even more. Nico doesn’t pull away until your laughs have turned to silent gasps for air and you’re pretty much a puddle in his arms, weight held up by him.

He’s laughing too, when he pulls back, turning you to face him. You wipe at your cheeks, smiling so wide your jaw aches and you look at him through wet eyelashes.

Nico’s always been beautiful. You’ve known that since the moment he winked at you from across The Rock. But sometimes he still manages to steal your breath away. When he’s so happy it radiates off of him, all dimples and rosy cheeks, eyes shining and framed by laugh lines.

He looks at you like that now, your heart doing flips and you giggle like a school girl. His smile widens at the sound and he leans in to kiss between your eyes.

“Thank you baby,” he says, reaching around you for his coffee. You clear your throat, try to catch your breath and calm your racing heart.

“Want to eat breakfast in bed?” He suggests and you jump at the offer. Eagerly nodding, you gather your matcha and his coffee, and he grabs the plates.

~~~~

Staring out the large window at the mountains in front of you, you blink sluggishly as Nico gently combs his fingers through your hair.

“Do you want to talk about?”

His voice is low and soft, like he’s afraid you might have been sleeping and he doesn’t want to wake you. You wonder if he’s been doing that all week, trying to talk to you in these in-between moments and he always caught you when you weren’t awake.

“About what?”

He hums, the sound vibrating in his chest and against your spine. You can’t see his face, but you’d imagine it’s disappointed in your lack of confrontation. Nico has never known you to shy away from things, and you feel bad for doing it now.

“Whatever you want,” he says easily “the ring, my mother, Timo…” the silence he leaves speaks volumes, both of you knowing what he’s leaving unspoken.

Your heart thumps loudly, nervous and scared of addressing what you know he really wants to talk about. But he’s given you all this time to hide, to ignore all the ugly parts of this trip. Hell, he’s even gone out of his way to defend you from the hard conversation you should be having with Timo.

This is something you can longer run from. Not with that big sparkly ring tucked away somewhere in this room.

“If I wanted to leave,” you start, voice wobbling. “Would you let me?”

You’re not talking about the house, the town, or even Switzerland as a whole. You mean it all; him, the boys, the Devils.

He understands. You can tell by the way his chest rises when he inhales, the breath deep and trembling.

“Yes,” he says after a moment, voice quiet and hallow “if that’s really what you wanted to do, if that’ll make you safe and happy, then yeah I would. And I’d do everything I could to make it happen.”

You wait with bated breath, staring out the window at the lazy snowfall and the snow capped Alps, not that you’re actually seeing it. All you can see is him.

“Before you’d do that,” he continues, that determine edge creeping back into his tone and you feel your heart jump into your throat. “I’d offer something else.”

“Yeah?” You croak out, “what?”

“Me,” Nico murmurs, and his lips ghosts against your neck, breath warm on your skin. “I’d give it up. Take out the inheritance I put into it and sign everything over to the ones that came with me.

“And I’d take you anywhere you want to go, build you a new house for us and the dog and- and maybe a family even. Whatever you want to do, just as long as I get to keep you.”

Relief washes through you, the anxiety and fear that Katja had knowingly put into your heart deflating. Rino never offered her that, was never willing to pick her over everything. And maybe that’s why she’s been so unsafe this whole time. Maybe what her and Rino have is nothing compared to what you and Nico have.

You crawl up onto your knees, moving so that you can face Nico and fall into his lap. He’s droopy, eyes sad and lips pulled down into a frown. Even his hair looks sad, flopping into his eyes that watch you so intently.

His hands shake when they find your hips, drawing you closer to him and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“You get to keep me,” you agree, tongue feeling heavy as tears well up in your eyes. “And you can keep to Devs. I just had to know-“

“If I’d do it,” he cuts in, clearing his throat nervously. “I have a plan for us,” Nico swears, his voice wobbling with emotion and you reach up to push his hair out of his eyes, stroke your thumb over the frown lines between his eyebrows. “In every universe I have plan for us, no matter what I have to give up to make it happen.”

Unable to speak around the lump in your throat, you just nod. But that doesn’t stop the sniffles or the water that blurs your vision. Before you know it you’re crying, big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks and you can’t stop it.

Nico doesn’t even shush you or try to make you stop. He simply reaches up and wipes at your splotchy cheeks, even though it does nothing to keep them dry. You tuck into his shoulder, hiding the stupid whimpers that are squeaking out from your chest into his hoodie.

“It’ll be ok baby,” he coos, rubbing up and down your back gently, and smoothing down your hair. Nico feels so safe, so big and protective holding you like this and the words you’ve been holding back since the hospital finally find the strength to come out, knowing that at the very least he’s got you.

“I failed Nico,” its garbled mess of words, muddied down by your crying and sniffling and his hoodie. You’re surprised he even heard you. But he did.

“What do you mean sweetheart?” He tries to guide you away from his shoulder, and you dig your nails into his bicep to hold on tighter. You’re too ashamed to look him in the eye.

Turning your head, you press your cheek to him so he can hear you this time.

“I did everything I was supposed to do last time and then I got here and it was like I couldn’t think. I left you and Timo, and then I ran and I didn’t even think or fight back. I didn’t do anything you or Timo told me.”

You feel hysterical, squeezing your eyes shut as the words just keep tumbling out and out. And all poor Nico can do is hold you and hope to god it’s enough.

“I was just a stupid crying girl, it was Philly all over again and I kept passing out and crying. How am I supposed to do this, to be this person? I can’t take care of you or the boys, I can’t even take care of myself.”

He sits up, holding you so tightly you almost can’t breathe but it for reason makes you feel even better. Tucking back into your hiding spot, you stifle your whimpers into his neck again and Nico begins to gently rock you back and forth.

“You didn’t fail anyone baby,” maybe it’s the way he’s holding you, like he’s trying to physically gather up the words and squeeze them into your ribs and heart. Or maybe it’s his voice, so strong and confident in what he’s saying. Whatever it is, you calm down enough to hear him, to feel his chest move with every syllable.

“I don’t expect you to be perfect, to be able to do everything for everyone. I’ve spent my whole life in this role and I still fuck it up. I fucked it up with the Flyers and god knows I fucked it up here too.

“But you’re safe now and you’re ok. And we’ll do whatever you want to do. If you don’t want to train with Timo anymore, I’ll get more guards. If you want to train with me instead I’ll switch with him.

“Stay at home, work at the cafe, at the bar, whatever role you want here I’ll give to you baby. Just know you have never once failed me.”

Blinking open your puffy and swollen eyes, you hesitantly pull back to look at him. You hiccup, clumpy eyelashes catching together and Nico reaches up again to wipe at your cheeks.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you that day,” you whisper, gaze falling to embroider logo on his chest because you’ll cry again if you see those beautiful eyes of his. “Going behind your back to Luca, calling the boys. I had to do something though, I had to prove that I could do something.”

He cups your jaw, traces the outline of your swollen bottom lip with his thumb but he doesn’t urge you to look at him. Nico’s always been good at knowing when you need a break.

“You killed Marcelo to show us,” he states, not a question or a guess. “You wanted me and Timo to know that you could still do it.”

“I didn’t forget everything,” you nod sadly, peering up at him through your lashes. “I went too far, I know. But I was so scared Nico.”

“I was gonna kill him,” Nico admits, and you tilt your chin up to fully see him. He looks so casual, like he’s talking about the weather outside or dinner tonight, something normal. You suppose violence in this world is normal.

“I was gonna kill Lena too. After I let her know she could never be you.” He shrugs, tucks a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “I think you did it better baby. And I should’ve told you that there but I was scared too. And guilty.

“Being home, I let my guard down. That’s all I could think about when I saw you in the hospital bed.”

Sniffling, you lean back into him, unsure of what else to say. You’re exhausted, your eyes heavy and you’ve got a headache budding in the back of your skull. Nico just holds you, exactly like you want him too.

“I love you,” you murmur, dipping your fingers into the strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

Nico presses a kiss to your temple. “I love you with everything I’ve got baby.”

You close your eyes, inhale deeply to smell his cologne. “I want to marry you.”

His smile touches the side of your face as he presses his cheek against yours, leaning back into the headboard. “I want to marry you too,” he says earnestly “but sleep first ok?”

Not needing to be told twice, you let yourself fade away, telling yourself that you’ll talk to Timo tomorrow. Everything will be fixed tomorrow.

Next

[killxz]

Valentine's Day 💌

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

a/n: happy valentine's day! i rushed to get this finished by today

You wait, tapping your finger against the wood of the table impatiently. Where was Jason? He was late, again.

"Are you ready to order, ma'am?" The waiter asked you.

"Oh! Uh, sorry, not yet. I'm still waiting for someone," You say to the waiter sheepishly. The waiiter gave you an understanding nod before leaving. You whipped out your phone, beginning to furiously text Jason's phone.

Me: Where are you?

No reply. You sigh, fustrated. You decided to order a drink first while waiting for Jason. You were rightously annoyed. It's not like he was late to every date, but there was a few times he was considerably late. When your drink arrived, you sipped on t, eyes darting across your surroundings to see if Jason would appear. You checked your phone. No reply. You tsked and put your phone facedown on the table. So much for having a sweet valentines day.

As you sipped on your drink, the bitterness of the coffee matched the tinge of disappointment settling in. The ambiance of the cafe seemed to mock the absence of Jason, and the minutes continued to slip away.

You glanced at your phone again, still met with the silent screen. Frustration morphed into a more somber realization that your Valentine's Day plans were unravelling. The warmth of the cafe felt insufficient to dispel the chill of disappointment.

Taking another sip, you debated whether to wait a bit longer or cut your losses. The sounds of conversations around you became a distant hum as you replayed the scenarios in your mind, wondering why Jason hadn't shown up or responded.

The waiter approached once more, this time with a sympathetic smile. "Are you ready to order now, or would you like a few more minutes?" they inquired.

You sighed, "I'll give it a little more time. Thank you."

As you gazed out the cafe window, the city lights twinkling in the evening, you couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness amidst the Valentine's Day festivities around you.

After waiting for about 30 more minutes, you gave up and gathered up your things, slamming a twenty on the table to pay for your drink and tip the patient, sympathetic waiter.

Just as you gathered your things to leave, the door to the cafe swung open. Startled, you turned to see Jason rushing in, panting. His hair was tousled and he was breathing heavily. The panic on his face was obvious, and he quickly scanned the room until his eyes met yours. He shouted your name.

"Wait, don't go!" he exclaimed, breathless. "I'm sorry I'm late! I really am. There was something going on at work and my phone died-I'm really sorry!" Jason felt scared. He was so scared that you would leave him, like his parents, like Bruce when he died.

With shaking hands, he thrust a boquet of your favourite flowers and a box of Godiva chocolates into your bewildered hands. "I'm...sorry, please don't break up with me." He mumbled.

"Break up with you...? Why-why would I do that?" You were stumped. Sure, you and Jason had been dating for years, but does he rreally think that you would break up with him over this?

"Because...because I was late and made you mad," Jason gave you puppy dog eyes. You chuckled to yourself. For being a big, jacked vigilante, Jason can be a big baby sometimes, and that's what you love about him. He always lets his guard down around you.

"I'm not mad anymore," You assured him, hugging the flowers and chocolates closer to yourself. "You're here now, that's all that matters." You got up on your tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheeks. Shifting the gifts toone hand, you grabbed his hand with your free hand. "Come on, let's go sit."

Jason's hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you towards him, kissing you on the lips. The kiss was long and deep, causing others to stare. When he finally pulled away, he smirked at your red cheeks.

"Happy Valentine's Day."

[olsenmyolsen]

You Got A Star!

master list

dark master list

No Powers AU (Female Reader X Yelena Belova)

Summary: You and your roommate, Yelena Belova, invite some friends over for Mario Party; however, Yelena has no idea about your feelings for her.

Word Count: 4K

Content: Feelings, Crushes, Mario Party, Friendship, Comfort/Hurt

Your roommate, Yelena Belova, was one of a kind.

Truly, you had never meant anyone like her. From the way she talked to how she made babies cry with one look. Or how the one thing she knew how to cook was Mac and Cheese.

You knew there would never be anyone else like her.

Which is maybe why you started to feel different around here... what began as two strangers needing a place to live slowly morphed into something else.

At least for you.

Yelena's asexual identification didn't make it impossible for her to find someone she could share a life with. It was just that you had never seen her with anyone since knowing her. So, IF Yelena were attracted to you, you would have no idea.

Regardless, your tiny crush was making itself known tonight as you waited for a few friends to come over. It was Saturday night, and after a shit week at work, you, Yelena, and your friends decided to have an impromptu game night.

"So what is it?" Yelena asked you again as you set an assortment of snacks on the hardwood coffee table. "It's called Mario Party. Each person chooses a character, and then you hit dice, play minigames, get coins, and you have to purchase stars." You looked up from the candies and savory snacks to a confused-looking blonde. "Whoever has the most wins." You said.

"Is it easy?" She asked after staring at you. You shrugged. "It can be a little challenging sometimes." Yelena hummed. "So it's not like that animal island game?" She asked with her eyes precious and wide.

A fluttering was happening in your stomach.

You cleared your throat with a smile. "No, Lena, it's not like Animal Crossing." Yelena pouted. She loved Animal Crossing no matter how much she hated Tom Crook, as she called him. Yelena opened her mouth to ask if the two of you could practice a round of this Mario Party, but a knock on the apartment door followed by its slowly opening stopped her.

"I got pizza!" Kate Bishop yelled as she entered through the small hallway. You walked past Yelena after your eyes fell to her lips without noticing. She was too busy looking at the game icon on the switch home screen. "You didn't bring Lucky?" You asked as you took the pizza boxes from your childhood friend.

Kate shook her head. "Figured it might get hectic." You nodded to her reasoning. Kate had followed you into the kitchen as you set the pizzas down. Pulling out some plates and dipping sauces.

Ranch and hot sauce for you and Yelena.

You turned around to find your friend eyeing Yelena. You looked between the two and raised an eyebrow to yourself.

"So..." You started pulling Kate's attention to you. You could see Yelena grab her special Joy-Con from the corner of your eye.

It was just the plain blue one, but she loved it.

Yelena clicked on the game as she pulled up a Let's Play on her phone of the game. You hide a laugh.

"How's your mom and her new man." Kate rolled her eyes. "He's so annoying, and he's doing things where he wants us to be like a family. It's just weird..." She shook her body as if she had a cold chill. "Plus, he has one of those old man smiles that could be threatening when all he's doing is asking for ice cream." Her voice was unhappy. She did not like this Jack guy at all.

"Y/n!" Yelena called out from the couch, making you and Kate leave the kitchen. "Yes?" You smiled and kept your voice level as you approached Yelena's side. Standing as she sat.

Yelena lifted her eyes to you before doing a double take at Kate. "Kate Bishop!? When did you get here?" Kate smiled awkwardly before licking her lips and speaking. "About five minutes ago." Yelena tilted her head. "Hmm. I did not know. You're sometimes too quiet." Kate did what she did best and chuckled lightly with a nervous laugh. "Yeah, like a mouse."

Yelena nodded before looking back at you and her phone. "Who is this?" She pointed to a Mario Party character on her tiny screen. "Oh, that's Wario." You replied. Yelena looked at you with all the seriousness in her voice. "Can I play as them?"

You nodded. "If you want."

"I want to." With one look into her eyes, you would go through hell to make sure she played as that little idiot.

"Okay, then you will." You smiled, and her face morphed into pure happiness. Like a puppy in the sun. "He reminds me of that fat short guy from that one show with the horrible people." She said as her attention moved back to the phone. You thought for a few seconds. "Are you talking about Danny Devito?!" Yelena smiled wide and bright. "Yeah, from the Sunny show!"

You couldn't help but laugh.

"That's a great character, Yelena!" Kate spoke up from behind you before not so subtly moving past you to sit next to Yelena on the couch. Her gaze was on Yelena's phone as well.

Were her cheeks pink?

"That character is like best friends with my character," Kate said, raising Yelena's eyebrows. "Really?!" You couldn't recall a time when Kate played as Walugi, but her favorite color was purple, so it probably happened at some point, and you just didn't remember.

Seconds later, a knock came to the door before YOU could explain how different Wario's dice block was from the other characters.

"Wanda! Pietro! Nice of you to join!" The twins were too busy bickering with one another to return your niceties. But Wanda did make sure to place the wine bottle in your arms.

"Y/n, did we have to knock, or could we have just let ourselves in?!" Pietro turned and looked at you with intensity. Wanda was doing the same. "Uhhh..." You looked between the siblings. "You could have just come in." You said with caution. "See!" Pietro threw his arms up while Wanda rolled her eyes. "But that's not how Mama raised us!" Wanda yelled as the two of them stormed into the kitchen.

Pietro had his nose leading him to the pizza. Wanda followed to grab glasses for the wine.

"But it's like the sitcoms you love so much. We're the friends that can come right into the apartment and join the shenanigans!"

Wanda groaned because her brother was right, and she hated it.

"Shut up!" Wanda replied before joining you in the living room, taking the wine from your hand. "Sorry. I need this NOW."

Wanda would be two and a half glasses in by the end of the night. All because of her lovely, annoying brother.

"Hey, Wanda! Hi Pietro!" Kate waved to the twins, who sent smiles and waves back. Yelena looked up and to them and gave them a nod. "Okay, so now if you land on a red monster face, you get in trouble?" Yelena asked Kate. Kate nodded and briefly explained who Boswer was.

Your eyes caught Yelena's briefly when she glanced your way. You could've sworn you saw her lip twitch upwards before she looked back to Kate.

"Here, Kate, it'll be easier to explain some of the mini-games once we're actually in the game." Kate looked up to you and your regent words sheepishly. She nodded after fumbling with her words. "Okay."

A moment later, when Kate left to grab the three of you slices of pizza, you took her spot next to Yelena. "I'll help you out if you need it." You said, which Yelena appreciated greatly but shook her head. "I shall win this game on my own!"

Your lips curled upwards with a laugh. "Oh, is that right, Lena!?" Yelena smirked and took a big sip of the wine Wanda dropped off. "Prepare to lose Y/n Y/l/n."

You took a sip of your wine as well. "We'll see Lena. We'll see."

About fifteen minutes later, You, Yelena, Kate, and Wanda were ready to start the night's first game. The disappointed look of Kate having to sit in her own chair was missed by you.

"How come there's five of us for a four-person game!" Pietro whined as you let Wanda select the level. "I asked Sam to come by, but he's busy with his test and all that." You said while waving your hand. Your friend Sam Wilson was training to become a pilot. Pietro huffed. "Fine."

"Also you fairly lost at rock papart scissors so sorry dude." You added on like rubbing salt in the wound. Wanda turned around and stuck her tongue out to her brother. Pietro angrily bit into his third slice of pizza and flipped her off.

The game was underway, and the order was set. Kate went first, followed by you and then Wanda. Yelena rolled a 3 and had to go last.

"Hey, that might be good; you can make your moves based on where other people are. Not where they might be." You said, cheering Yelena up slightly.

Kate and Wanda dominated the first few turns and minigames as you and Yelena struggled to move more than 4 per turn. You knew it was bad luck, but Yelena was about one more 1 v 3 mini-game from switching her joy-con until Kate got the first star.

"Who is that again?" Yelena asked as Toad started moving to a new spot on the map. "Toad. He's like a mushroom guy." Kate answered before you could. "Fuck! It's farther from me!" Wanda exclaimed as you turned towards the TV. Your eyes moving away from Yelena's side profile.

Toad landed seven spots in front of Yelena.

She could make it to him but she didn't have enough coins.

Luckily, when it was Yelena's turn, she rolled a five and landed on a blue space. Yet she was still short in terms of payment.

"Oh great, it's this one!" Wanda groaned. "Y/n's the be-" "Who wants to practice!?" You cut Wanda off and gave her a quiet glare; the other two people playing didn't seem to notice.

When everyone loaded into the practice mode, Wanda just gave you a confused look before forgetting about it.

Surprisingly, Yelena was just as good as you at rapidly clicking the button to send the little shy guy flying. But still, you won the practice mode. "Oh, come on, Y/n!" Yelena whined. "How did you do that?"

"What happened to winning the game on your own?" You said with your teasing voice dripping. Yelena loved that attitude and smirked. "Okay, Y/l/n, watch this." You turned towards the TV just before the mini-game started properly.

But not before you saw Kate's eyes on your blonde roommate.

"Come on!" Wanda yelled as her fingers smashed the button repeatedly. Kate groaned and held her breath as she did the same. You kept your technique unchanged, and Yelena did her best to copy you.

However, you knew from the practice round and every other game prior that you could do this with one with your eyes closed. But you had a crush on the blonde sitting next to you who cursed at her little yellow piece of shit character. Her words. So, without anyone realizing it, you stop mashing your button a few seconds before the timer ran out.

"Fuck that hurts!" Kate waved her hand around as the four shuguys began to take off.

Wanda's was the first to hit the ground. A laugh from her brother earned him a slap on the arm. Kate's followed the same destiny not long after, and to everyone's surprise, yours was the next to fail.

Wanda turned to you, shocked, but once Yelena realized she had won, Wanda put the pieces together and joined in the celebration of your defeat.

You were more than fine with it. Because now Yelena had enough coins to get her first-ever star.

She would never know it was really because of you.

"I'm taking a picture of this moment," Pietro said, making everyone laugh as Yelena hit the button to accept the Star from Toad.

"You Got A Star!" The game applauded! "I did it!" Yelena cheered and clapped to herself before you wrapped an arm around her and smiled at Pietro's dad's pose with the camera.

You thought Pietro had taken the picture when you shifted your face to take in Yelena's happiness.

Except, that was the picture that was taken.

Wanda made sure to show the one that followed where it looked like you were looking at the corner of the room.

After that, Yelena's luck turned for the better. She was on a roll. A few turns later, she earned another shiny star from a hidden block that left Kate flummoxed. "All I ever get is coins from those! Are you serious?!" Yelena laughed loudly at Kate.

Yelens then landed on Toad's space again after using a triple dice, and not even the prediction that you would win the game could stop Yelena.

Which left you, Kate, and Wanda struggling to do as much damage as possible to each other in the final turns of the first game.

"Yes!" Kate cheered when she got the last star next, making her and Yelena tied going into the Bonus Stars.

"Well, this sucks." Wanda sighed as she fell back against the couch. "There's no way I'm going to catch up!"

"What's happening?" Yelena asked no one in particular, but you still spoke up. "Bonus Stars. So once the game ends, it will still award additional stars to people. It makes it more exciting. Usually, it's like whoever landed on the most green spaces or landed on Bowser the most. Stuff like that." You explained, and you smiled when the blonde shifted her face to look at you.

However, your smile faltered a bit when you saw her eyes and the pout she wore. "So I might not win?"

"You can still win." You said with your voice soft. Yelena looked over your face as the moment became more intimate.

At least to you. You felt Wanda's gaze on you but moved your eyes to the TV.

"Yelena, look!" Kate pulled Yelena's attention away as the bonus star for the most distance traveled was being awarded.

It went to Wario.

And so did the next Bonus Star, which left Yelena jumping off the couch and into your arms when you stood up. "You did it!" You exclaimed loudly.

"I won the Mario Party!"

Your eyes shined as you looked at the way Yelena, how she couldn't control her excitement. It reminded you of the time you had won $200 on a lottery ticket, and you and Yelena went shopping. She bought a fur coat and wears it every time it hits below 45 degrees. (Fahrenheit)

You would always wanted her to be happy.

With the first round of Mario Party over, Wanda switched out with Pietro, and you did your best not to get competitive over the next game on the map in space. Yelena tried her hardest but found herself struggling. Pietro was just as fast in the game as he was in real life. Zooming from star to star, leaving you and Kate reeling.

"Y/l/n third place again!" Yelena teased as she landed herself in a solid second place behind Pietro. You went to jokingly retaliate, but Kate stole Yelena's attention and challenged her to a different Mario game.

Mario Kart.

Yelena's eyes went wide with fear before you slowly watched how they shifted.

Determined Yelena would be.

However, that would have to wait for another night as you looked at your phone, seeing how late it had gotten. Everyone agreed and helped you and the blonde clean up.

Pietro helped by eating two more slices.

"Oh hey, Y/n, before I leave, do you still have that red jacket? I wanted to borrow it for a party Lorna is throwing next week. It would fit the theme." Wanda said, shrugging her arms. You nodded and let her follow you to your bedroom.

"Here." You said, pulling the jacket off the hanger and holding your arm back. "Oh, thanks!" Wanda said as she grabbed it, and you turned around. Your eyes immediately noticed how your door had been shut.

"Wanda?" Sure, the two of you kissed when the clock struck midnight on New Year two years ago, but Wanda didn't have feelings. Did she? "Okay, spill!" Wanda said as she was closer than before—her voice above a whisper.

"Spill?"

"You and Yelena! What's going on there?" Ah! "Did you need this?" You said, picking up the arm of the jacket. Wanda shook her head. "I saw how you were looking at her! I take it she doesn't know?" You sighed. If there was anyone, you could count on sharing your newfound crush with, it was Wanda. "No, she doesn't know." You sighed again as you sat on your bed.

"Are you gonna tell her? Tonight?" Wanda asked, joining you by your side with her arms clutching the jacket. "I don't know... I want to... But."

"But it's Yelena." You nodded to Wanda's words. "I would also just hate to ruin our friendship." Wanda could understand. "Well, sometimes the biggest risks have the best rewards." You hated her cat poster-like words of wisdom, but she wasn't necessarily wrong. "Plus." You lifted your head to Wanda's green eyes before she continued. "At the end of the day, it's Yelena. Even if she didn't reciprocate those feelings with you, you know she wouldn't want anything to change between the two of you. You're best friends. She'll always be in your life. I'm sure it might be hard if she doesn't like you like you. But-"

"But I'd want her around." You finished Wanda's sentence. Wanda nodded, put her arm around you before her hand moved, and rubbed your back. "You're a big girl. You got this."

"You had to ruin it."

Wanda laughed loudly and let you rise from the bed. Before you helped her up. You definitely needed a new box spring.

Opening the door to your bedroom, your eyes caught Yelena's as she exited a hug from Kate. Her eyes quickly moved away from you and Wanda as she confirmed her plans to practice Mario Kart for the next game night, whenever that would be.

"Got the jacket. Let's go!" Wanda yelled to her brother, who was helping out and putting the leftover pizza in foil for you. Oh, no, wait. He was grabbing some to go.

Kate noticed where your eyesight had gone and laughed at Pietro's actions before giving you a tight hug. "Tonight was so much fun, thank you!" You hugged your childhood friend just as tight. "Thanks for coming."

Kate then moved to Yelena and was awkward as she accidentally punched Yelena in the boob as she lifted her arm to hug the blonde. Again. Yelena laughed loudly as Kate blushed before they hugged. Kate left with a cloud of smoke after that.

"Bye, Y/n. Bye, Yelena!" Pietro said his goodbye first with a quick wave to you and a side hug to Yelena. Wanda turned around and hugged you before turning and doing the same to the blonde. You smiled as you walked closer to the door at the end of the apartment hallway. "Bye, guys!" You waved as you shut the door to Wanda, mouthing, "Talk to her."

With a click, the door was locked, and it was just you and Yelena. "That was a good time, Y/n!" Your cheeks wore a light pink as you moved away from the door. Following Yelena in the living room area. "I'm glad you had fun, Lena."

Yelena moved to the couch and grabbed the remote as you entered the kitchen to grab some water. Your mind racing with a way to bring up you're feelings. "I'm not tired yet. Do you want to watch a movie?" Yelena called out from the living room. "Uh, sure! Just pick whatever!" You called out with your voice jumping from your nerves.

You took longer than one would need to fill out their water bottle. Thankfully, Yelena didn't seem to notice as she swiped through hundreds of different options.

She was trying to find something specifically tailored to you.

"You like this one, no?" Yelena asked as you finally sat down. The movie was Legally Blonde, and Yelena knew you loved it, so why was she questioning it? One look and you could see her mind had been racing too.

And for some reason, that calmed your nerves just a bit. What if she felt the same way you did?

You hid a smile and scooted closer to Yelena, who tensed up slightly before pulling you in and dropping an arm around you. "Should I have made popcorn?" You asked. Yelena shook her head. "Still full."

You were, too.

As Elle Woods began to wake up on the screen, you bit your lip. Would during or after the movie be an appropriate time to talk to Yelena?

"Y/n?" Yelena's voice broke you from your thoughts as you lifted your eyes to her. Yelena was chewing on her lip. "Yeah?"

"I have something to say, and I don't know how you're going to take it." Your heart started beating faster than you ever thought possible. "Okay." You said as the movie fell into a black hole behind you. Your body lifts off Yelena to give her your entire attention.

Could this be it?

Yelena sighed before her eyes fell on you. They were gentle. "Tonight, I discovered something... and I'm unsure how to move forward."

You knew the feeling.

"Okay..." Yelena moved her leg below her and turned more towards you. "I... I-" You had never seen Yelena so nervous and flustered. Not even when she booked a trip to Paris, Texas, and not Paris, France. "Yelena." You reached for her hand and took it. "Whatever it is. I'm here for you. I can help."

Yelena knew this, yet she was anxious. "I think I might have a crush on-" "Oh wow! Okay! Tha-"

"On Kate," Yelena said with the words flying out of her. She needed to get this off her chest. She needed you to know. She didn't like this feeling inside of her as she was keeping this to herself. Plus, Kate Bishop was your childhood best friend. Yelena didn't want to make that uncomfortable for you.

"Now! I know this might be weird! But I-" Yelena stopped and quickly gathered her words—enough time for you to process what just happened and to hear your heart become shattered glass.

"There is just something about her. I'm drawn in. She's clumsy but beautiful. Funny!" Yelena laughed to herself as a fake smile finally appeared on your face. "But!" Yelena gripped your hand, and you still felt butterflies in your stomach due to the touch of her soft fingers. "If you have a problem with this or feel uncomfortable, let me know!"

Yelena was dead serious. If you told her that it would make things... unbearable she wouldn't pursue any bit of this with Kate. But you couldn't do that to her. You wouldn't put her own happiness in jeopardy. "It's okay." You said with a smile—another fake one.

You had to fake it now. You could cry later.

"Are you sure?" You nodded. "Absolutely!" You said. Yelena nodded a tad. "It's just she's your childhood friend, and I'm your best friend-"

"Yeah. You're my best friend, Yelena, so of course I want you to be happy."

You said with an enthusiasm you didn't know you could muster. But it finally convinced Yelena, who pulled you in for a hug. "Oh, thank you, Y/n Y/l/n!" She said into your neck. You closed your eyes and let the moment happen. "I love you, Y/n!" Yelena said with a loud cheeriness in her voice.

"I love you too, Yelena!" You whispered back.

By the time the next game night rolled around, Yelena and Kate were dating.

You hated Mario Kart after that.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[luvly-writer]

Crimes of a Mother

Ch. 1: She’s our shadow

Batfamily x Reader

-•-

Author’s note: I did NOT think this story was gonna get amount of love it did because i’m so insecure about it but wow!!! Thank you so much!!! I truly am grateful for your love for this! Thank you Thank you!! I think it will become a short series so if you’d like to be added to the taglist, leave a message! Here’s chapter 1, Enjoy!!!

Warning: English is not my first language

Taglist: (i’m starting the taglist with the people who asked for a part two <3) @nxdxsworld @give-jack-a-lightsaber @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @can-i-feel @n4muar

Masterlist:

-•-

Subject name: Yn Wayne Salazar

Age: 18

Mother: Valentina Salazar (alias, the Golden Serpent)

Father: Bruce Wayne (alias, Batman)

Skills: High level of expertise on criminal investigation, Bilingual, Photographic memory...

Weaknesses: [empty folder]

Education: [CURRENTLY UNDERGOING] Bachelor in Criminal Journalism

Motive for investigating: ???

———

-“Nghhhh”

Bruce mutters as he leans back and rubs his eyes. The Batcomputer displayed a series of pictures and the beginning of a subject report on Yn. The last few weeks have been interesting to say the least. After her visit to the manor, everyone aside from Bruce and Alfred had been curious on who this unknown girl and had been trying to get either of them to spill on who she was. Normally, they would have let it go by now, they reason (lies) ; but after seeing Bruce and Alfred pale as a sheet of paper, they knew this wasn’t just another of Bruces small secrets

After much perstering, Bruce finally caved in. (Barbara found Vals note as she was managing the commns. He left it there after having to rush out and stop Tim from strangling Jason and Damian for lacing his coffee with a laxative. In their defense, they are trying different ways to help Tim get more sleep and lay off coffee. In Tim’s defense, he had to miss two days of patrol because his stomach wouldn’t hold anything...alas, the life of a single father)

To say that it caused a raucus withing the family is an understatement. Jason, Stephanie, and Tim couldn’t stop laughing about Bruce having another kid. Barbara and Cass were just glad they had another girl in the family. Dick was contemplating whether he wanted to leave or stay for the drama and risk meeting another version of Damian. Duke was trying to console Damian who stayed in catatonic shock for a few moments seeing as he had an actual blood sibling. Bruce had figured that if he had all of them on the lookout for her, she would be safer plus, they would be able to get the largest amount of information about her together. This had proven to be somewhat difficult seeing as Valentina had made sure to leave no trace of her their daughter’s existence in Gotham.

The following weeks after the debrief were anything but boring. They had been made aware that they had a shadow during patrol. Tim, familiar with the situation, had taken note of it first. Yn was good. She kept hidden, had the stamina to keep up, and most of the time could almost accurately predict their next move. One time, Tim, Dick, and Jason had decided to go on a coffee run in the middle of a stakeout. They hadn’t seen her all night and decided to leave Steph, Damian, and Duke in charge while they went and ordered. Lo and behold, there she was in a booth in the back sipping some coffee and typing on her laptop. They hadn’t thought anything of it seeing as this coffee shop normaly stayed open till late hours of the night due to its proximity to Gotham University and students constantly went to study there as classes had started. It wasn’t until Dick made eye contact with her that he felt chills down his spine. Her eyes were trained on them like a predator to its prey, still, unmoving, and absorving everything. He had called out to Jason and Tim; and once they turned to look ate her, she was unintimidated by the three figures, with her head leaning on one hand and her other holding her cup. She raised a delicate eyebrow at them and just stared. They figured the girl had her mothers looks but good grace, she was Bruce Wayne’s Daughter. To be more specific, she was the Dark Knight’s daughter and her eyes were a key give away of that. Not even Damian, with all his devil spawness, could recreate that piercing gaze.

It wasn’t only as vigilantes. She would be seen with a notebook in the back of Bruce’s conferences and interviews, eyes cold, calculating and focused as she observed and wrote down. It was known she was targeting Bruce and he didn’t know whether to feel some sort of twisted pride or to be concerned.

Back in the present, Bruce had never felt so frustrated. Why was this kid here? Was this a cruel trick of fate where she was destined to cross his path? Was he finally believing in something as simplish as fate and destiny? What was her investigation? What did she wanna know? How much did she know? Was she sleeping and eating? Were her grades slipping? In a moment of fatherly worry he hacked into Gotham's system and found her students bio. Classes had started two months ago...it really had been two months since he had met her? Her grades were perfect. Exams aced, projects and homework all As, she had taken a few college credits in high school so she had advanced in some of her classes and skipped the basics. She truly was brilliant.

-“I finally get a Wayne in university who has the intention of finishing it.”

Exclaimed Alfred as he walked closer and interrupted his thought process. (He would forever be salty that neither his “son” nor his “grandkids´” had gone or finished college.)

-“She's a brilliant kid.”

-“Well she ought to be. If I remember anything about her mother, I'd be worried if she wasn’t”

He corrects and Bruce scoffs a laugh.

-“She’s been tailing us for weeks, yet not a single bad score.”

-“It almost sounds as if you’re proud, master Bruce”

-“I....I barely know her”

-“Let’s fix that then, shall we? Invite her over for dinner with the family. It is a possibility that all the questions that have you perplexed may find their answer if you get to know her and she begins to trust you”

-"Couldn’t this just be an ordinary investigation without any attachment?"

-“That is your daughter, master Wayne. Better her to be here and protected than out there for her other family to find her and make a move first.”

-“Nghh”

-“Such a cooperative answer, I shall notify the rest.”

----

For all of her bravado, Yn was nervous. It had been two months and a half since she had stepped into the manor. Charlie and Taylor had told her encouraging words as she dropped them off at their respective practices and headed for the Wayne house. She had tried to dress nicely and make a better impression that last time. Had Mr. Wayne seen her at the conferences? Did he know of her nightly investigations? Was he gonna tell her mom?

She parked her car and stepped out. Would dressing up and acting nicer make her look guiltier? She walked up the stairs and pressed the doorbell. She was working so hard on understanding her family and it wouldnt go to waste because of some pissy billionare. She heard some footsteps walking towards the door. She was not going to give up today.

-“Hello, miss Salazar, it is great to see you again.”

---

Dinner had been going great so far. You had been introduced to all of them at once and began small chatter. Everyone had been somewhat pleasant with her, trying to make her feel at ease. She had chalked it up to Mr. Wayne fulfilling some sort of favor her mother had asked of him to protect her and this actittud had passed on to his kids.

-“So, Yn, why Gotham?”

Asked Dick, which made everyone turn to her

-“Yeah, why this dumpster fire of a city?”

Laughed Jason

-“Well -she laughed- I have always felt a connection to Gotham. Like as if something was missing and I knew I would find it here. Ever since I was a child, it had always been my mom and I only, no other immediate nor distant family members. Mom would never talk about the city even though she’s from here and it made me wonder why. I mean, feels like there's a huge part of me that I dont know about and I would like to, even if my mom advices against it constantly. What if I find family here, you know? There's something out there for me and I know it is here. Not only that, Gotham U has the best Criminal Forensics and Journalism departments ever. Of course..that can be because of the high profile of criminality and the amount of rougues running around. My mom tried to advise that Star City and even Metropolis would work but they aren’t Gotham, you know. They don’t have the history, the profile, the exentric rougues, the vigilantes. I mean, who is the Dark Knight? Why does he inspire so much fear? Is he a friend or someone who could potentially face a dark turn? What is his history with his sidekicks? Why so many? Are they human? A failed experiment? Cryptics? It is all fascinating, wouldn't you agree?

They all digested her answer. They all understood and and could relate to a certain level. Her determination was admirable.

-“That's actually...not a bad reason to move to Gotham”

Damian spoke up, surprising everyone. Yn smiled in approval and thanked him shyly.

-“When did you begin to have a passion for investigating?”

He asked again

-“Well, I guess I was too into crime shows? Plus being good at it certainly helps”

She laughs making the rest chuckle

Dinner finished shortly after. Everyone had decided to exchange social media handles and say their goodbyes. Bruce walks her to the door and speaks up,

-“Listen Yn, I am sorry about the thing about your father. I really ca-“

-“I know. You are a good man, Mr. Wayne. I am sorry for being too upfront that day, I tend to be too pushy sometimes during an investigation. I appretiate your respect and care for my mother a lot but...that still won’t stop me. I will find out who is my family.”

-“Well...seeing as nothing can hold you back, I just wanted to let you that our doors are always open for you. You are always welcomed into our family.”

She smiled at the sentiment and he could feel it pulling his heart strings. This is his kid, literally his. She is his daughter.

-“Thank you, Mr. Wayne”

She said as she started to walk to her car

-“One last thing...about your father”

Yn had never turned around so fast in her life

-“Yes?”

The hopeful look in her eyes made him take a step back and consider his words lightly

-“I think...I think he'd be very proud of you. You really are an extraordinary kid”

Seeing the hope fade a little killed him but it was better this way

-“You think so?”

-“I know so”

Her eyes watered a little but she held back. She gave him a nod and a tight smile

-“Goodnight, Mr. Wayne”

-“Goodnight, kid”

———•———•———

I am always open to feedback so remember to leave a comment or a reblogs if you have any suggestions, comments or just want to be added to the taglist!

[nycbaby21]

skating

prompt: “You can keep holding my hand, you know, you don’t have to let it go.” + “I like it when you hold onto me. It’s nice.”

word count: 884

“Jack for the last time no. You guys can handle it all on your own,” I say trying to ignore the boy adding more mini marshmallows to the cup of hot chocolate I just made. A loud groan comes behind me and I laugh at the boy’s dramatics. “Why is he whining this time,” Quinn laughs walking into the room. I turn and smile at the older boy then my eyes land on my best friend. “He is being a big baby and crying about me not going skating with you later,” I say bringing the warm cup to my lips. 

“Wait what? You aren’t coming,” Quinn asked looking at me with sad puppy eyes. I sigh slowly accepting the fact that my nice warm quiet afternoon was off. “You skate all the time without me. One more time isn’t going to kill any of you,” I respond finishing the sentence when Luke slowly trails into the kitchen heading my way and reaching behind me for the coffee pot. “Luke tell her she is coming with us this afternoon,” Jack whines yet again. The youngest Hughes brother looks my way and I sigh. “J you know that I’m not a skilled skater like the three of you. Do you remember the last time I skated with you,” I ask seeing a smile creep its way onto his face.

“What happened,” Quinn asked with an amused look in his eyes. “When I went to visit Jack last year he insisted I go skate with him. We got to the rink and he was helping me at first to get my footing. And then he just ditches me for this group of beautiful fan girls,” I say looking over at him and he makes an exaggerated face. “You told me to go for it,” he says back dramatically. I laugh and shake my head. “I didn’t mean dropping my hand while you were helping me skate. And leaving me to fall on my ass,” I say giggling at his face. 

“C’mon we all aren’t like Jack,” Quinn laughs ruffling his younger brother’s hair,” I promise I won’t drop your hand and let you fall.” I let out a long dramatic sigh. “Okay fine. Let me go put on something warmer,” I say leaving the kitchen for the guest room I was staying in. The only noise coming from the kitchen was celebrating. As I put on my layers I smile thinking about how much I love the guys.

“Okay sit down I got your skates,” Quinn said squatting down in front of the bleachers where I was sitting. I look down at him and his concentrated face. I couldn’t help but blush when he glanced up and caught me staring. After he laces my skates up he stands and brushes off his pants. Slowly backing up he reaches out to grab my hands and help me up. “Okay, I’m gonna step on the ice and then help you out okay,” he says gently. He steps onto the ice with ease and grace. He reaches out for my hands and I take a deep breath. “I got you y/n/n. I promise,” his words are soothing and I accept his hands. Slowly we skate over to the edge and I have one hand on the side and the other interlocked with Quinn’s.

After about fifteen laps I finally had let go of the side and we skated towards the middle. “You’re a pretty good teacher Q,” I smile looking over at him. He smiles and his cheeks are pink but that had to just be from the chill. “Well you have been an okay student,” he jokes and I bumped his shoulder out of reflex. I start to stumble and Quinn’s arms shoot around my waist to steady me. When I finally even my breathing I look up to see him looking down at me with such concern and adoration. “Thanks for not letting me go,” I whisper. “Yeah of course,” he responds helping me stand back up. The two of us continue skating around in comfortable silence.

Jack and Luke are chasing each other around zooming across the ice and laughing. My eyes flow them dart back and forth and then they drift to Quinn. “I think I have the hang of it Quinny. You can go goof around with them,” I say moving away slightly skating a little away and turning with a proud face. He smiles and shakes his head skating back towards me. He brushes his hand against mine and glances up at me looking for any sign I was uncomfortable. I smile at him and lace our fingers again. “I’m all good. I’d rather skate around with you over those two any day,” he laughs,” you can keep holding my hand, you know, you don’t have to let it go.” I look over at Jack who gives me a wink and raises his eyebrows. I laugh at him and roll my eyes. “ I just didn’t want to keep bothering you by clinging to you.” He stops and looks me in the eyes and smiles. “I like it when you hold onto me. It’s nice,” he smiles and we start skating again. Maybe I am glad that I came skating after all.

[loveshotzz]

My name’s Elvira, but you can call me tonight

steve harrington x eddie’sbestfriend!reader

Hell N Back

summary: A flash flood warning, a week of cancelled plans, and the night Steve Harrington shows up at your front door.

wc: 5.2k

warnings: 18+ mentions of weed smoking (r), thigh riding, fingering, oral (fem receiving) and you know I can’t get enough of making Steve cum in his pants.

A/N: thank you all for your patience with this one, and thank you for reading 🥹♥️

🎃<- chapter two | mini series masterlist

It felt like it had been raining for days, the downpour never ceasing until there were flash flood warnings lighting up the bottom of your TV screen by the end of the week. You hadn’t seen Steve since Tina’s party, every plan that your group had getting canceled by the clouds that never seemed to want to leave Hawkins. 

Heavy droplets hit your window in the living room in sporadic patterns, the wind outside making the howling noise you’ve only ever heard on your favorite horror movies. The flicker of your candles dance along your walls, mixing with the warm glow of your string lights just like that night, and for once you don’t try and stop the thoughts of him that threaten to consume the rest of your evening.

Laying bundled up on the couch in a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized sweater, the black and white sci fi movie The Empire of The Ants plays on your TV while Elvira’s bubble gum sweet voice cracks lewd jokes over the B rated film. The Halloween Macabre special was your only saving grace this week, that and the thick fuzzy Jack O Lantern socks on your feet gifted from Robin.

You giggle to yourself at a joke about her boobs in particular, the half smoked joint on your coffee table makes it easy to wonder if Steve would have thought it was funny too.

Jesus Christ.

You huff a little, pulling the throw blanket closer to your chin, eyebrows furrowing in a pout. 

How did this happen? When did this happen? 

Before you have time to think too hard about it, lights flash behind your blinds dancing across the exposed glass in the opening from outside. You keep your eyes trained on it until they cut and the darkness from before takes over, shrugging it off to it being your neighbor coming home from work. Shuffling your feet under your blanket, you burrow yourself further into the cushions finally getting the level of comfort you’d been searching for since the movie started, but it only lasts a couple of minutes. Three melodic knocks rattle your front door, scaring you out of your fleece cocoon and onto your carpeted floor.

“God dammit!” You grunt, pushing yourself up and tossing the blanket on the couch, “Fucking Munson.”

It’s only when you get halfway to your door that you realize it’s definitely not Eddie or he would have let himself in with the spare. Your footsteps stop as you remember that this is actually how every single horror movie starts out. It’s almost as if whoever it is can read your mind, and a familiar voice calls out from the other side.

“It’s Steve!”

Relief floods your system, and your shoulders slump as your heart rate starts to calm, but then the realization that Steve Harrington was on the other side of your door unannounced just kicks it back up again. Especially when you look down at what you’re wearing.

“If this is weird or you have someone over, I can leave!“ He talks loud enough to be heard over the rain, but it still threatens to drown him out.

“No!” You don’t mean to yell when you answer, clearing your throat, you try to play it off when you continue, “I’m coming, sorry I’m coming!”

Taking a deep breath you pad the few extra steps to your door, straightening your shoulders before your fingers wrap around the handle. There’s a silent count to three before you actually open it. 

The sound of the rain you’d only heard muffled from behind your window grows tenfold, making you wince at the difference at just how hard it’s still coming down. A chilled mist hits your exposed skin from the wind, sending a shiver down your spine and you’re met face to face with a very wet version of the boy you were just thinking about.

“Jesus, Steve! Why didn’t you call?!” You scold, stepping aside to let him into the warmth of your apartment. Shutting the door quickly behind him, a flash of lighting illuminates half the night sky followed by a low roll of thunder.

“I know, I know.” He gives, running a hand through his soaked hair pushing it out of his face. His smile almost looks victorious when he shows you the whites of his teeth. “My power went out.”

His Hawkins Community College sweater clings to parts of his stomach and chest, the worn heather gray cotton turning dark. The water makes the blue denim on his legs even tighter than normal, sticking to him like a second skin and you have to actively stop your eyes from lingering as he drips a mess onto your floor. His white sneakers squish, completely drenched down to his socks and he still somehow looks handsome as ever.

“Robin lives like two blocks away from you.” You arch your brow, flipping your lock to stop anymore horror movie cliches from happening, only for the string lights in your living room to flicker as you do. The energy in the air is laughing at you. 

Steve’s cheeks flush a deeper shade of the rosy pink they were from the cold of the storm, and that’s when you notice the shopping bag.

“Did your power actually go out?” The corners of your mouth twitch, crossing your arms across your chest. The bottom hem of your sweater lifts higher up your thighs and Steve licks his lips, following it.

“I don’t know why I said that,” he huffs out an awkward laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “What a weird lie, right?”

“Kinda,” you giggle, eyes catching the colorful packaging of the popcorn and Red Vines inside the plastic in his hand, the knot in your stomach tightens knowing that he’s been thinking about you too.

“I just felt like if I had called I wouldn’t-“ he coughs looking anywhere but you, “I heard from Eddie that Elvira’s Halloween special was on tonight and I just thought, you know we had kinda talked about it before-“

“Do you want to get out of those clothes?” You cut him off, making his eyes snap up wide. “I mean, wow, that came out a little forward.” 

It’s your turn to laugh awkwardly.

“Eddie just leaves stuff here all the time, I clean it obviously or it’d make my place reek.” You try to explain in an attempt to break the tension and it works when you get that lopsided grin that makes you go shy. “I’m sure I’ve got some sweats and a shirt that would fit, I can throw your wet clothes in the dryer if you want?”

Steve’s shoulders relax, nodding, pushing back that loose strand that drips falling over his forehead.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

——

When Steve hands you his wet clothes through the crack of your bathroom door, it makes your brain stop working for a second. You catch a glimpse of his bare back in the mirror, littered with more moles and freckles that would make the sky hidden behind the clouds jealous. With thicker thighs than your best friend, it makes the cotton of the sweatpants that hang low on his hips stretch tight over his butt. The dark patch of chest hair that’s always just been teased comes into full view right in front of you and your throat goes dry. Why did it look so soft? 

Steve catches you staring, the tips of his ears dusting red before mumbling a mess of sorry’s shutting the door again. You shout an awkward apology of your own, soft thumps on your carpet as you hurry the wet clothes to your dryer. Silently scolding yourself to get it together, feeling the heat rise from your neck to your face, even warming your ears. God, he looked even better without a shirt on.

“You’re good, everything’s chill, you’re totally fine it’s just Steve.” You whisper under your breath, tossing the clothes into the machine with a wet plop. The last part has you rolling your own eyes at yourself, throwing in a couple of dryer sheets for good measure. 

Your nerves make you want to keep busy, so you start rummaging through the bag he brought in the kitchen. Butterflies taking flight in your rib cage when it’s everything the two of you had picked out that first night. You bite your lip to hide your smile, opening the popcorn to put in the microwave when you hear the soft click of the bathroom door opening. His feet sound heavier than yours on the carpet,and you make sure to have your back towards him when he finally enters the kitchen. Plugging in the minutes, the loud beeps of your microwave only add to the tension that hangs thick, almost suffocating you in the air.

“I mean, everything fits… I guess.” 

He breaks the silence right as the low hum kicks on and you watch the small bag start to spin on the glass plate. You collect yourself quietly before turning around, not expecting the sight you’re met with to send you into a fit of giggles. Slapping a hand over your mouth in an attempt to stop it, you take in the faded black Iron Maiden shirt you gave him. 

You realize now with him standing in front of you that it's a size too small for the King of Hawkins, probably one of Eddie’s old one’s from high school. The worn fabric fits tight over his chest, making ‘Eddie’s’ face stretch distorted over his pecs. The sleeves look ready to burst at the seams, and the bottom hem refuses to meet the top of his sweats. Revealing a little sliver of his tan skin and the beginnings of the thick happy trail you’ve shamelessly thought so much about. 

It’s the cutest you think he’s ever looked, besides that one summer he worked at Scoops Ahoy. 

“Hey! That doesn’t make me feel very good.” Steve chuckles, his cheeks becoming a permanent shade of red for the night.

“No, no, you look cute!” You try to get out, but the snort he gives you in response makes you giggle harder. “I promise, I wouldn’t lie to you!”

The way your lips twitch when you say it makes his eyes roll, but even with a shake of his head, the smile on his face gives him away. He can’t be mad, not when you just called him cute.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He runs a hand through his hair that’s already started to dry, curling in wisps behind his ears. The gold that kisses the tips shimmers in the low light of the kitchen. 

The unexpected first loud pops of the kernels stop any other words that sit on the tips of your tongues, making you both jump at the sudden outburst.

“Why don’t you go warm up on the couch, since you decided to come over for a date during the storm of the century and I’ll bring the snacks out.” You try to keep your tone as even as possible, refusing to meet his eyes after saying the ‘D’ word, busying yourself again with grabbing cups for some hot tea.

You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat from across the room in the moment of silence that follows. Not even realizing you're holding your breath until you feel the heat of his palm against the small of your back and it exhales through nervous lips. 

He smells like the rain that won’t stop pouring outside with notes of cedar from his cologne. There’s an undertone of the lilac from your dryer sheets. He’s spring in the middle of autumn, leaning in close to your ear.

“Only if I get to be the big spoon again.”

The way your cheeks push up, and your lashes flutter against the tops of them when he makes his intentions clear, he thinks he’d drive through a hurricane to get to you.

——-

When you get to the living room he’s lying where you were earlier, doing his best to get comfortable, but the size of the shirt has him pulling at the sleeves to get them to loosen up. Muttering under his breath, your giggle is what catches his attention. Big chestnut eyes look up at you, and all the annoyance on his face drains with a smile he can’t contain. 

“What? It’s literally cutting off my circulation.” He laughs sitting up, his hair now completely out of control. “You sure this is Munson’s?”

“Yes, but I’m starting to think from, like, junior year.” You try to hide your grin when his jaw drops in disbelief. 

“That explains a lot,” he scoffs 

You watch him lean forward to grab a handful of the popcorn, the fabric restricting him again, and both of you hear the faint sounds of a tear. His eyes lock with your in a dead stare making you throw your head back in a full bellied laugh. Rib cage tightening just like your chest with the realization of how much you actually like him. 

“I’m glad you’re having a good laugh, you’re lucky you’re so pretty, I’ll tell you that much.” He grumbles reaching forward for the popcorn again only this time is successful, probably due to the rip, and something shifts in the air when his words sink in. 

“Sometimes it gets me out of things.” You grin, a little shy just for him.

“I’m not surprised in the slightest.” He licks the butter off of his fingers, pink lips wrapping around the tips as he leans back into the cushions. He watches how it makes your thighs press, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smirk.

“Are you gonna keep hogging the couch or are you makin’ room for me?” You fake annoyance gesturing toward the way he's manspread on the cushions, doing your best to try and cover up how flustered you feel, but the way his eyes seem to light up tells you it isn’t working. 

Shifting himself back to lay on his side, he lifts the covers with raised eyebrows and the kind of shit eating grin you want to kiss off of him.

“I was just waiting to see if you were gonna stand the whole movie or not.” 

You make him snort when you roll your eyes, and he tries to play it cool when the smell of your apple blossom body wash fills his senses as you take the small space he’s made for you next to him. Swallowing hard, you leave a little bit of room between you, the nerves in your stomach starting to feel like an Olympic gymnast is competing for the gold. The heat of his breath fans against the back of your neck, his own insecurity making it come out a little shaky having you this close again. The tension breaks when he goes to wrap his arm around you and another sound of a rip hits both your ears.

“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles over your fit of giggles, his face turning a deeper shade of red that you can’t see. “I swear I’m not trying to take my clothes off but this is not working honey.”

His laugh puffs across your skin, making goosebumps rise when he shifts to sit up a little bit. Turning your head, you meet his anxious eyes over your shoulder.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen you shirtless Harrington,” you tease, your own face heating up in memory of the view you got minutes ago in your bathroom.

“It’s not, like, going to make you uncomfortable or anything right? I swear this isn’t like a move - not that I don’t want to make a move -“ The boy looks panicked, his signature tell of running his hand through his hair coming into play.

“Steve, it’s fine, take it off” you giggle, “It’s clearly a size too small.”

He huffs out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, rosy cheeks deflating before a toothy grin spreads across his face.

“Okay, yeah, al-alright.”

You turn your attention back to the TV to give him some ‘privacy’, your heart going into overdrive when you see the fabric drop to the floor in front of you. The couch shifts under his weight as he lays back down, and for a second you think you can hear his heart over your own. Tentative hands find their way to your hips, fingers digging into your softness when he pulls you in, the warmth of his bare chest seeps through the thick fabric of your sweater and your body melts against it. You feel the way it makes him relax behind you, a stubble covered chin hooking over your shoulder while your feet tangle with his. A content hum, leaves from between his lips next to your ear, the tip of his nose nudging behind it as he snuggles closer and it feels like he’s breathing you in.

“Mmm, so what’d I miss?” His voice comes out a little sleepy, and you hate the way it makes your thighs press. You wonder if he could feel it.

“So basically this woman cons people to buy houses on this island,” you start, stuttering when you feel the tips of his fingers under your sweater that sits rucked up to your waist, “And when they get there someone had dumped human waste creating these giant ants that hate humans.”

“Oh that’s…interesting,” he tries, making you laugh and it has him smiling into the crook of your neck.

“It’s ridiculous, it’s okay, that’s why she’s making fun of it.” You grin, running your fingers down his forearm, finding his hand that's made a home on the curve of your tummy to give it a reassuring squeeze.

He takes the opportunity to keep you there, intertwining your fingers and pulling you even closer. The sound of the rain against your window gets heavier, and the roll of thunder gets louder. The flicker of your candles makes the storm raging outside seem relaxing from the inside, and you can’t believe he drove all the way over here in this, just to cuddle with you on the couch. Somehow trying to burrow yourself into him even deeper, the wiggle of your hips when you readjust makes the air shift. 

Your sleep shorts and the cotton of his sweatpants don’t hide what his jeans did. His grip on your hand tightens, and he bites his tongue to stop the moan that's begging to slip out when you do it again. His nose nudges harder behind your ear, exhaling a huff through it that makes you shiver. 

“Honey,” it comes out as more of a plea than a warning, his lips that you’ve yet to feel against your own ghosting against the sensitive spot on your neck.

The feeling of how much he wants you pressing into the small of your back is what gives you the courage to turn around in his arms, ready to finally do what you’ve wanted since the last time you found yourself here. He lets your fingers slip through his, always keeping his palm against your skin until it sits on the small of your back. Both of yours land on the dark patch of hair on his chest that's even softer than it looks, slowly sliding them up till the pads of your thumbs trace his collar bone. With your head resting on one of his arms, his other pulls your bodies flush together before his thigh finds space between your own sliding you close enough for your noses to brush.

His half lidded eyes meet yours, and your breath catches in your throat when you see how they darken. He takes his time, letting his hand roam on its way from your back, fingers tracing up your ribs before the warmth of his big palm envelopes the already heated skin on your cheek. His gaze flicks down to your parted lips, licking his own while his thumb traces the pout begging him for a kiss.

“Please,” he whispers ,not knowing he beat you to it.

The connection is soft at first, just your top lip brushing against his bottom but it’s enough to make every inch of your skin come alive. A low groan rumbling deep from his chest, vibrating against your hands. He meets your eyes one more time down the slope of his nose before he closes the distance with nothing held back anymore, kissing you in a way that makes you feel like you’ve never been kissed the right way before. It’s like he knows just how to make your toes curl when they slot together, the tip of his tongue wasting no time when you sigh giving him the opening he needs. The blunt ends of your nails dig into the warmth of his skin, leaving half crescent moons over his pecs that’ll be hidden by the thick chestnut hair that covers them.

Your tongue meets his eagerly, cedar and rain making you dizzy when the top of his thigh adds pressure to the heat between your legs. Your noses bump, teeth scraping together while his hand leaves your cheek to squeeze at your hips encouraging the small roll they start to do on their own. The mess in your underwear only gets worse letting you move against the hard muscle with ease, your fingers weaving in the soft hair at the nape of his neck when he flexes it for you. He growls low when you give the roots a gentle pull at the same time your teeth tug at his bottom lip, his self control to try and be a gentleman slipping away.

“Jesus Christ baby,” Steve gasps, the new nickname making you smile when you give him a softer kiss loving the way it makes his skin flush.

“You started it,” you whisper, watching the way his cheeks push up before he chases you for another one, which you gladly give, letting your lips linger when he hooks your leg over his hip. 

Close as close can get.

“Me?” He tuts, letting his hand slide up your thigh before squeezing at the curve of your ass, glancing down to see how you still roll against him “I don’t think so, you’ve been trying to take my clothes off since I walked through the door.”

He throws his head back with a laugh when you scoff, and you pretend to push him away only for his hold on you to tighten. His lips connect anywhere but yours as you play hard to get, trailing a wet path to your neck, teeth nipping at the spot that gets a sound from you that has him kicking up in his sweats. So he does it again, and this time he can’t stop the grind of his hips that meet yours when he gets you saying his name the same way. 

“And what do you think you’re doing now?” You try to tease but it comes out too breathy to be taken seriously, especially when he starts to suck where his teeth just grazed. 

He grins against your skin, nosing his way up your jaw before meeting your eyes again, something softening in the gold inside them that shines through the abyss. 

“You want the truth?” He asks, bringing his hand up to cup your face, the pad of his thumb tracing the small bags under your eyes with a gentle touch and all you can do is nod.

“I just want to make you feel good, god - it’s all I’ve thought about for so long. Just wanna treat you right, take things slow,” his thumb drags across your bottom lip watching the way your eyes glaze over at his words. “Take you out to nice dinners, watch all your favorite movies, hear about your day, but really what I want to do right now is make you cum on my tongue.”

“Steve,” his name comes out broken, the roll of your hips becoming more pointed, and the swelling in your chest makes you feel like you’re ready to explode.

“You want that pretty girl?” He whispers, leaning close so his lips brush against yours, his eyebrows furrowing when you grind a certain way, your clit catching his tip.

“Y-yeah,” you whimper, eyes big and pleading, turning into putty from his sweet words.

He gives you a kiss that’s more gentle than the rest, before sitting up on his haunches letting you fall into the empty space on your back. A big hand wrapping around your ankle, moving your leg out of his way so you’re spread with him in the middle. Leaning forward, his fingers curl around the elastic band of your sleep shorts, giving you one last look from under his lashes before tugging them down your thighs, throwing them on the floor with his shirt.

“Shit - baby.” He groans, running a hand through his hair when he sees the effect he really has on you. “Better than my dreams.”

All the blood rushes to your cheeks from his affection, as gentle hands run up your calves when he starts to lean forward, fingers curling under your knees to lift them over his freckled shoulders. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you start to feel shy exposed to him like this for the first time. A kaleidoscope of new feelings settles deep in your gut when his hot breath hits your core, thighs tensing that the pads of his thumbs try to soothe. 

He looks up at you, from between your legs pressing a soft kiss to the place where your hip meets your thigh, making your back arch.

“You okay?” He whispers after another kiss, only this one on the inside of your thigh.

“Yeah, just nervous,” you giggle, feeling the warmth on your cheeks with your hand. If anyone would have told you that you’d have Steve Harrington between your legs begging to taste you a year ago, you’d have laughed in their face.

“Want me to stop?” He rests his cheek right where he kissed, looking content just to be doing this.

“No.” You smirk, reaching down to run a hand through his hair that was just begging for it, pushing back the stray that falls over his forehead.

He smiles, closing his eyes leaning into your touch for a minute before he turns his head, lips meeting your soft skin where he starts a path to where you want him most. You feel his breath and it sends a shiver down your spine, the tip of his nose spreading you apart first. He applies the kind of pressure against your bundle of nerves that makes you gasp, letting his tongue follow, collecting what you’ve already given him. 

“Oh my god, Steve,” you whine, when he flattens the pink muscle doing it again, groaning loudly at the taste of you. 

“So fuckin’ sweet, god, honey,” he mumbles against your cunt, replacing his nose with his lips, sucking your clit in a greedy way that makes your eyes hit the back of your head. 

His fingers dig hard enough into the meat of your thighs, that you’re sure they’ll be bruises in the morning. The tip of his tongue tracing your entrance that flutters around him, threatening to suck him in and he can’t help himself, giving your body what it wants. Both your hands find their way to his hair, tangling your fingers in his honey colored locks searching for purchase when he starts to taste your walls, creating a steady rhythm that has you rocking against his face for more.

“Yeah, you like that?” He grunts, extending his tongue as far as it can go, drool and slick starting to drip down your thighs as he starts to lose himself in you.

“Uh-huh,” is all you manage to get out, jaw going slack at the way he feels like he’s eating you from the inside out, like he’s thought about this longer than a few weeks.

One of his hands lets go of your thigh while he starts to focus his attention back on your clit making you gasp when you feel the thickness of his finger press itself against where his tongue just was. The stretch makes you keen when he pushes one knuckle deep with ease, distracting you when he pushes the second one in as he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves.

“God - baby,” he gasps, when your walls take the third knuckle in by themselves, and it’s only then you notice the way he’s rutting against the couch in search of his own friction. 

Your head pushes back into the cushions when he curves it, hitting the spot that only you’ve ever found on your own, and it has you babbling, your hips rolling up greedily for more which he gives you when he adds a second finger.  He sets a pace that has your lashes fluttering against your cheeks after he lets you adjust to feeling so full.  

“Come on, I can feel it, you’re close huh?” He asks against your clit, making you shudder, nodding your head when he starts flicking it with a wild tongue.

“Steve, Steve, Steve,” you whine, eyes closing tight, the band inside of you going taut, your hips grinding against his face without abandon as you try to take his fingers even deeper.

The sound of his name leaving your kiss bitten lips like a prayer makes a moan rumble deep from his chest, and it vibrates against your cunt, giving you just enough extra stimulation to make it snap. Vision going white behind your eyes, your body tenses while your mouth opens in a scream that falls on deaf ears when nothing actually comes out.

“Honey, honey, honey,” he babbles, his hips stuttering while his tongue refuses to stop despite the way your body shakes. 

You murmur his name in a daze, trying to push his head away as you reach the verge of overstimulation and it takes him the third shove for him to finally listen, addicted to the way you taste. Feeling empty when he pulls his fingers out, your body betrays you trying to get them to stay.  He kisses the inside of both of your thighs, smirking against your skin when your legs twitch because of it, slowly sliding his body up the length of yours. Skin flushed, and lips shining, you’d be embarrassed if he didn’t look like he just won the lottery.

His nose nudges yours before his lips steal a kiss that you eagerly give despite feeling so spent. Your fingers finding their way back into the hair at the nape of his neck, a smile tugging up the corners of your mouth when you feel the warmth of his own release in the cotton of the sweats.

“I hope you have another pair of pants for me.” He laughs, embarrassment making the tips of his ears turn red, the warm color only deepening when you grin and you realize you have more than just a crush on Steve Harrington.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 40 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, VIOLENCE, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

40. parlay

At last the time has come. 

On the roof, you are all sitting around Winston’s behemoth of a conference table. There’s an early fall chill in the air, but the sky is blue. The High Table’s Adjudicator sits at the head. Winston her opposite. John and you to her right, which you hope is significant. D’Antonio to her left, across from John, and the Camorra bosses across from you.

Earlier, Dante d’Antonio tried to make a stink about falling into the pool, claiming Wick struck him, but everyone with any authority ignored him. 

In fact, all the adults at the table seem pretty fed up with young Dante d’Antonio’s loud complaints. 

The fact that his mother momentarily sat at the High Table doesn’t seem to help the kid out much. The two emissaries from the Camorra, who are not d’Antonios but rank highly in their clan, seem equally contemptuous. According to Winston, the twenty-something has proved more pain-in-the-neck than asset to his syndicate’s endeavors. Apparently they are honor bound to take care of the kid, but he’s not making it easy by half.  

Maybe he’d thought to win some respect by being the one who finally took down John Wick while restoring his family’s honor, but it seems like his fellow Camorra are not having it. They glare at him from across the table, exuding annoyance. You don’t speak Italian, but you’re pretty sure they’ve told him to shut the fuck up at least twice. They clearly want to be anywhere but here. 

“Normally the High Table would not concern itself with such petty squabbles such as this,” begins the Adjudicator, looking pointedly at young d’Antonio. “But due to the…incendiary potential of the parties involved…” This time they glare at John. “We would like to resolve this issue quickly, and peacefully.”

D’Antonio erupts, unable to contain himself. “He killed my mother! I have every right to seek revenge!” 

“I was fulfilling a marker to your uncle, Santino d’Antonio. I didn’t want to, but I followed the rules of the Table. I should be absolved.”

The young man breaks out yelling in Italian, gesturing wildly, and the Camorra emissaries start yelling down the table at d’Antonio. It’s all you can do to just sit still and watch, doing your best to play it cool.  

“Shut. Up!” snarls the Adjudicator, banging their hand on the table. The roof falls silent. “This situation is further complicated by the fact that Wick has won his freedom from the High Table. We are bound to honor that, and by we that includes you, d’Antonio.” 

“I am honor bound to defend my family.”

“I understand that you’re in pain,” says John with surprising empathy. “Gianna was my friend. I was the bullet, but your Uncle Santino pulled the trigger. I killed him for it in this very hotel. I avenged us both. Let’s let it go.”

Dante glares across the table at John. His pupils are the size of saucers, and you wonder if drugs have something to do with young D’Antonio’s erratic behavior.  “You wish it was that simple, old man. I will have my vengeance!” 

That’s when it all goes to hell. 

The idiotic man-child is so stupid as to produce a switchblade, going for John’s hand on the table. Maybe he thought the hitman’s legend was all trumped up hearsay. Maybe he thought he could beat Wick, jacked up on cocaine. Either way–he was wrong. 

John has D’Antonio laid out across the table, being choked by his own tie and his own knife at his jugular, in two seconds flat. 

One of the Italians across from you starts yelling–and produces a small gun. 

There weren’t supposed to be any guns at this parlay, but honor amongst theives, and all that. 

You do not even think, the maneuver drilled into you over and over by Mariko. You reach out, twisting the gun up and in the opposite direction of his fingers savagely, breaking one of them in the trigger guard. A shot pops off into the sky before you manage to wrench the gun from him, hitting him in the face with it. It puts the older man on his ass, back in his chair, cradling his broken hand with a bloody nose and a look of shock as he stares down the barrel of his own gun held by you, the seemingly innocent one of the group. 

Ignoring the shouted warnings from Winston and the Adjudicator, John snarls down at the idiotic young man in his iron grasp, “You seem kind of stupid, so let me put it in terms you’ll understand. You attacked me, three times now, while in the company of the woman I intend to make my wife. If you keep this up I’m going to come for you. I’m going to kill you, and everyone you love. And then, I’m going to kill everyone you’re associated with. I’ll kill their families too, because I’m done playing. I will gut your entire operation for fucking with me, because that’s who I fucking am. All I want is to be left the fuck alone and I don’t know why that is so goddamn hard for you people to understand!” 

It might be the longest speech you’ve ever heard from John, (what you can hear, through the ringing in your ears), and by the end of it he is positively vibrating with the urge to just break D’Antonio’s neck. The threat of murder hangs in the air like a volatile gas; one little spark and everything will explode.

In the interim, D’Antonio’s face has turned magenta.  

Your arms are shaking with adrenaline as you hold the gun on the Italians and wait, your attention trained on John’s slightest move out the corner of your eye. If he kills the boy–the two of you will have to run. There will be no other option left to you. The High Table will come after him again–and you doubt the two of you will survive it this time. The two of you. There is not an iota of doubt in your heart in that moment, that you will run with him wherever he goes, to the end. 

A tense silence has fallen over the table, the only sound D’Antonio’s strained gurgles as he struggles for some scrap of oxygen past his constricted windpipe. 

You are so surprised, when the Adjudicator speaks up, their tone incredibly calm and level, considering the circumstances. “The Table rules that your demands are reasonable, Mr. Wick. Dante d’Antonio will cease acting upon his vendetta. For all our sakes. If he defies this order, we will consider it a direct act of defiance not only from him, but the Camorra. Do you all understand?”

Dante’s eyes bug wide, and it’s impossible to tell if it’s with defiance, or death throes.

“John…” you say softly, not wanting to spook him into something you’ll all regret even further. “Let him go. Did you hear them? Let him go, baby, and we can go home.” You continue to speak to him, trying to talk him down. 

John is breathing heavily, with exertion–and rage. The few seconds that go by seem interminable. Time veritably stands still, in the tense showdown between you all. You count it in heartbeats, thundering in your ears. 

Somehow, eventually, your voice gets through to John. Finally, he lets the boy go, putting the switchblade away in his pocket. D’Antonio gasps for breath on the table, his hands flying to his throat. 

You pop the clip of the little Beretta, eject the bullet in the chamber, and remove the slide for good measure before setting most of the parts down on the table in a gesture of peace–you keep the clip. 

Surely you won’t get in trouble for defending yourselves?

D’Antonio struggles to situate himself back into his chair, practically falling off the edge of the table clumsily. Oxygen deprivation is a bitch.  

“No,” hisses D’Antonio through damaged vocal chords, glaring at John. One of his eyes is cherry red, a blood vessel popped in the strangulation. 

“Chiudi la bocca! Stupido ragazzo!” erupts the other Italian boss, glaring at D’Antonio and his compatriot who produced the gun in defense of the idiotic boy. “We understand. If he does not give up this childish fixation, I will kill him myself. Capisce?” 

“Excellent,” says the Adjudicator. “I will hold you accountable to that, Signor Barzini. I would like to consider this matter closed.”

They stand from their place at the head of the table, signaling that the meeting is over. Claudio, the Barzini whose hand you broke, glares at you while collecting the pieces of his firearm. “Nice trick, little girl. Give me the clip.” 

You look at Winston, who unhelpfully gives you a little shrug, playing the unaffected gentleman amidst the kerfuffle. After a long stare, you decide to comply, on your own terms. You produce the thing and remove every bullet, putting the heavy projectiles in your pocket, before handing the boss the empty clip.

“Grazie mille,” he says with a sardonic nod.  

“Prego,” you answer with a grimace. 

Alluding to his annoyance with the man daring to bring a gun to the parlay, Winston sides, “Please let the front desk know, if you require a doctor to look at your hand?” 

It seems like Claudio would like to say something more on that subject, but his comrade claps his shoulder, advising something quick in Italian. Claudio glares at you a final time, but makes to leave. 

D’Antonio is the last to stand from the table. He manages to hold his temper this time, though there is still a raging fire in his bloodshot eyes. First he looks at John, receiving no reaction but a hard, dark stare. 

Then, he turns to you, and you’ll admit it. You squirm a little in your seat. Always ready to make an ass of yourself when you’re nervous, you lift your hand in a flirty little finger wave, your engagement ring winking like a star in the sunlight. “Ciao, bella,” you say sweetly, winning yourself a nasty little smirk. 

“Fucking Americans,” he says under his breath, but he goes, and the Camorra bosses with him. Only then do you feel safe to reach for John’s hand, and he squeezes your fingers in his, just this side of too hard. 

“Can we go home now?” you ask hopefully, and you could have wept right there on the rooftop in front of Winston for the answer.

“I think so.”

[equallyshaw]

its always been you | jack hughes.

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blurb + social media edit.

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jack hughes x mid size oc.

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Warnings: self esteem issues, low confidence, guys being assholes, some sexual themes. alluding to sex.

Word count: 4.06K

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'it's always been you'

jack was a lot of things you could say, but he was most importantly blairs best friend since he moved to canton years ago. she grew up across the street from the ever chaotic hughes boys, who somehow always pulled her and her brother out of the house.

or at least he was her best friend, once he left for the show; messages and facetimes stopped. her family moved away shortly to san diego after she began her freshman year at university of southern california, double majoring in pre law and political science. she slowly but surely over the course of the years had begun to faze him out of her life, knowing full well he got rid of her too. blair recently graduated from USC with manga cum laude and decided to consider the possibility of moving to new york to start her life. her older brother joey had been out there for 6 years already, with college and now his professional career. and so here she was, two suitcases packed for two full weeks of sightseeing and potential job hunting in the city.

she strolled out of jfk, looking for her brother who stood waiting beside his car and once the two found one another they quickly jogged over to one another. "hey sis, glad you made it in safety!" he said taking the two suitcases from the girl, to put in the trunk. she hopped in the driver side, quickly connecting her phone to the Bluetooth. "couldn't wait 2 secs could you?" he joked, as he hopped in hearing olivia rodrigo blaring. "nah." she grinned, letting her parents know she was with her brother. "coffee?" he mused, and she nodded excitedly. "ya know it." she smiled.

•

she had been here 2 days already and had done some sightseeing with her brother on the first day, and then yesterday explored lower manhattan and had stopped in to see where her brother worked, in the financial district. tonight though, they were going to be going out with some of his friend group and she was nervous. she hated being in a room of people in public no less without meeting them first one on one, but he promised her they were cool and very chill. besides, they were excited to meet the young girl who kept him on his toes. and the one who always had a joke to say. she sat down at the vanity an hour before they had to leave and quickly did some natural makeup and loose waves, before picking out a black crop long sleeve, short black faux leather skirt, black ankle boots and a small green purse. she walked out to the living room greeting her brother's girlfriend who smiled widely. "ouuu yes! i love the outfit blair!" she said genuinely and blair blushed. "you look great, i love it! you are gonna rock it." mogan spoke softer so just she could hear it and blair nodded, and thanked her for the support. she had changed over the course of four years and her body changed drastically. her 5'2 figure took a hit and that in turn lowered her self esteem and confidence within herself. she had been invited over the years to visit two friends at university of michigan but felt so poorly of herself, she never went. she didn't want anybody to see how much she'd change, even went as far to make a new instagram. besides, she had a whole new life out in california and that made it easier for her to never look back. and lets be honest, she didn't want jack or his brothers to see how she looked. she had adored the middle child the three years she knew him and once things started to change, she knew she could never be enough for him.

morgan grabbed ahold of the girl's hand as they walked towards the restaurant in greenwhich village. "have you guys been here before?" blair questioned as they quickly went to their usual seats. morgan nodded, "yeah all the time!" she beamed. the three walked towards the back, their friends all jumping up to greet the sister. "hi I'm jackson, nice to meet the girl who keeps him on his toes!" the dark haired man said causing her to laugh, "ofcourse! blair nice to meet you jackson!" she said hugging him back quickly. "I'm jackie! i work with morgan, nice to finally meet you! heard so much about ya. by the way, i love the outfit!!!" jackie said hugging the girl, and blair smiled thanking her. she moved on to three other people, two girls and a guy and then she sat down next to her brother. "has he convinced you yet to move here full time?" aaron questioned and she shook her head at the tall redhead. "nah not yet, though I'm sure its coming." she giggled, and the rest laughed. the waiter came over to collect drink orders, and she ordered a cranberry vodka and water. "where do you wanna work again?" her brother asked and blair smiled, "either go to law school to become yknow a lawyer or in a government agency. not too sure yet." she said shrugging and the others nodded. "well I'm sure jackson could hook you up, he works for town hall." and jackson shrugged nodding. "yeah, its a nice gig." he said. the group fell into a comfortable conversation, and trying to get to know the girl a bit more.

two hours later, they decided to head up to upper east side to go to a club, and so they made the almost hour treck up from Greenwich village. they ended up at one that the group frequented and once they got inside, joey took blair up to the bar to get drinks. the two stood there conversing as they waited for the drinks. that's when she saw him. no, not jack but the knock off kurt russell who played in california. somehow, she'd avoided him despite her parents living in the same area as him. trevor did a double take to the siblings before clapping his hand on joey's shoulder, causing blair to look up and catch trevors eye. "hey man, whats up?" joey said turning around and bro hugging with him. "good good, playing in the best league is more than i could ask!" trevor said cheekily and joey nodded, turning back to blair. trevor looked at blair as if she was somebody he'd never met before, "is this your girl?" trevor asked somewhat crass. blair shook her head, "no this is blair!" joey said looking at trevor like he was an idiot. "oh my god blair! how are you?! i didn't even recognize you." trevor said now realizing his mistake and blair took that to heart. she swallowed hardly, trying to not cry. she cursed her damn sensitivity. "i-im alright." she said smiling weakly, before looking over and seeing the tray of drinks. "good seeing you man." joey said somewhat crass, annoyed with the hockey player. "yeah, you too! is it true your parents are in newport?" he asked and joey nodded before walking off with blair. trevor stood their for a brief few seconds before taking drink and rushing back to the group.

blair chugged her cranberry vodka, surprisingly fast. joey watched as she did so, and then went to take a shot of tequila. she coughed as it finished going down, and he clapped her back a few times. "I'm gonna get another one." she said and joey wrapped an arm around her, not allowing her too. "no you're not getting drunk..at least not yet." he winked and she rolled her eyes. "come on lets go dance, girly!" morgan said pulling the girl out to the dance floor. ofcourse dancing queen had to be on, and the girl jumped in a circle along with jackie and annabelle the other girl that was jackson's girlfriend.

as soon as trevor reached the group that consisted of quinn, luke, jack, alex, cole, pk and a few other players in their group. "yo guys you wont believe i just saw at the bar!" he said freaking out, and some of the guys laughed. "who?" alex questioned throwing an arm over his shoulder. "joey and blair anderson!" he said breathlessly. "woah calm down their bud." alex joked laughing, as the three hughes searched the crowd for the siblings. once blair left right after the draft to move with her parents to california, joey fell off the face of the planet as well. quinn and joey had been the closest due to age and playing for usndtp together, and so that had hurt him as well. "where is she? i see joey but not her." jack said looking at trevor and trevor searched the crowd too. "she looks completely different, i thought she was his girlfriend." and then he found her. trevor pointed towards the quartet of girls, and jack needed no confirmation of which one was which. the same dark hair that sometimes crept up in his dreams was the same as when they were in highschool. he took in how much she had changed physically and absolutely adored the softness of her hips that peeked out from her cropped sweater. the subtle roundness of her cheeks, with her dimples ever present.

"damn shes changed." cole said and jack could feel the judgeness of his voice, as he finished that statement. "so?" jack said feeling himself getting angry and then cole recognized his mood changing. "like it fucking matters." quinn said hitting cole in the chest, understanding what cole was trying to say. "I'm getting another drink." jack said standing up and walking towards the bar. back on the dance floor, blair craved another cranberry vodka and pulled morgan over with her. "hi, can i please have a cranberry vodka!" blair asked and they nodded, putting it on joeys tab. blair and morgan talked at the bar, not realizing that jack was on the other end of it downing two shots. "thankyou!" blair said taking the drink and shot that was put down in front of the two. the two clinked the glasses together and once on the bar before throwing them back. blair coughed again and laughed as morgan's face grimaced. as soon as jack heard the coughing, he looked down and realized that blair was inches from him. now or never he thought, as she was about to walk off. "blair!" he said but she didn't hear him, he took two big steps and called her once again and she froze, before turning around. who could possibly know me here, she asked herself. she turned around jack and her eyes went wide. "blai-" he said once more, reaching out a hand before she speed off with morgan back to the table. jack caught joey's eye and his eyes went wide as well before turning his attention back to blair. jack stood there seeing if joey would walk over, but he didn't. instead the two of them plus morgan calling it a night.

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it was the next morning and blair was staring at the ceiling of the guest bedroom. she groaned rolling over, and pushing her face into the pillow. she hadn't been able to get jacks shocked face out of her head the whole night. she had had a nightmare about the summer she left for california with her parents, and he had forgotten her birthday. she didn't realize she was crying until she heard a sob tumble out of her, as her mind with self doubts. she sat up, crying into her hands and thanked the universe her brother and his girlfriend had left for brunch awhile ago. she declined their invitation and said she just wanted to sleep. she wiped her tears, and got out of bed throwing on a sweater and a pair of black leggings and her birkenstocks on. she decided she needed some coffee and a breakfast sandwich to lift her mood just a bit. she walked out of her brothers apartment and headed down to starbucks on the corner. she took in the sights, smells and sound of saturday early afternoon. she thanked the person that opened the door for her, and headed to the line quickly. she got her usual cold brew and sausage sandwich, and sat down at the table by the window. she scrolled through tiktok, trying her very hardest to laugh like a maniac in public.

about 30 minutes into her stay, she felt somebody staring but she pushed it away. not wanting to give anybody her undivided attention. she stood up a few minutes later, and headed towards the trash to throw away her garbage. as she was about to open the door, somebody did it for her. she looked up at the blue eyes she had once adored. she sighed seeing trevor and cole accompanying the player. she walked out quickly, heading back to her brothers apartment. she was close to the door once she heard her name. she rolled her eyes knowing it was jack, and so she slowed down a bit and waited for him to catch up. "blair!" he said finally reaching her and stepped in front of her. her eyebrows creased, looking up at him. all 5'11 of him. "yes?" she questioned, crossing her arms across her chest. he knew that nervous tick she had done from the very first time they met. "uh- how are you doing?" he asked, pushing some hair out of his face. she rolled her eyes, and continued her trek towards the front door of the apartment building. "wait blair!" he said pulling her arm, and she yanked it back. "hi how are you doing? after four years jack, seriously? fuck off." she breathed, turning back. "hey you didn't reach out either, ok?" he said and she stopped looking back at him. "i congratulated you, you ass. i texted you the night you got drafted and never got a response, jack. so that's on you, not me." she seethed, and he realized that he'd been in the wrong. "i cried every night that summer, in a scary and strange new place and you- you didn't even reach out once my parents dropped the move on your parents." she said feeling tears pool her eyes. "all i wanted was my best friend and you didn't care enough about me it seems, which is on me." she said before turning back to the door. "blair please." he pleaded. she opened it and looked back at jack who stood there processing everything. "come on jack." she said holding the door for him, and he quickly took the chance.

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she set her coffee down on the kitchen counter and placed her hands on her hips, trying to figure out what she wanted to say. "i'm sorry i didn't respond, I'm sorry i never reached out to you or said happy birthday. i know that's on me, there's no excuse for it. i didn't find out you moved until august when we came back to for a michigan game, and my parents told us. they'd kept it from us because they didn't want to tell us over text, but in person. i realized that i had tested fate, thinking you'd be home waiting for me. and - and i guess i was heartbroken that you didn't tell me yourself. i was losing my best friend and somebody i - i had fallen for.. in one moment." he sighed as he paused, biting his lip. blair turned around at his confession, did he really just say that? he met her eye, as she processed it. "it doesn't matter anymore jack, im not that same girl. hell, i haven't been that same girl since i left. things changed pretty quickly for me freshman year, and i-i- im not meant to be in your life clearly." she said pinching her nose. "whats that supposed to mean? why arent you supposed to be in my life?" he asked, stepping towards her and invading her space. he grabbed ahold of her hands, and she pulled them back. she shook her head, looking at the floor. "im not the kind of girl you're supposed to be seen with." she said sadly, "look at me jack. i changed in more than one way when i moved...and have fought so many battles just to be standing here today. one's you can't fathom." she said shutting her eyes, "haven't you realized its always been you?" he whispered and she reopened her eyes to look up at him. "what?" she said barely coming out as a whisper. he smiled softly chuckling a bit, "you are your hardheadedness could never see how hard i was trying to get you to realize i liked you more than as a friend. i was trying so hard, the guys couldn't help but laugh at every attempt. calling me a fool knowing you'd never realize until i said something." he said shaking his head as if he couldn't believe the years he spent pining over her. "wait what?" she said looking into his eyes. "you thought i was just being nice? oh no..I'm not that nice to just anybody" he said laughing and she shook her head blushing. "you fool! you idiot!" she said slapping his chest, somewhat angry and somewhat sad. he grabbed ahold of her hands again and pulled them into his chest, "its always been you bean, i have never once stopped thinking about you, even if you did change your Instagram and slip off the face of the earth. i still never stopped, you can ask my brothers." he said inching closer to her face. she blinked twice before biting the inside of her cheek, "but I'm not right for you." she said frustratedly. he shook his head, "i like this version of you blair, don't sell yourself too short. i know i will absolutely adore you, bean. i promise you that." he said before placing his lips on hers. their lips felt as if they had kissed a million times before. she moved her hands up to his neck, desperate to be as close as possible. he wrapped his arms around her hips before moving to her lower back. they pulled apart, resting their foreheads against one another's, catching their breaths.

tears pooled both of their eyes as they looked at one another, "I've thought about doing that for years." he said cheekily and she grinned, "I've been waiting for that for years too." she hummed before reconnecting them.

•

one last hurrah was planned to michigan before the season started and jack invited her to his and his brother's lake house near where they grew up. she had met up with the three of them the day before they planned to leave for brunch. "i-i don't know." she said leaning back in her chair. "go have fun, ill still be here when you wanna come back." joey said from beside her, "there its been decided." quinn smiled lightly clapping his hands together.

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jack took ahold of blair's hand as they walked through detroit airport, walking towards baggage claim. "I'm nervous." she whispered to him as they waited. he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and looked at her in the eyes, "you have no idea how much they've missed you hun. everything will be great." he said kissing her temple. she nodded, resting her head against his chest. they made it out 15 minutes later and searched for ellen and jimmy's car. once they heard that blair was coming into town, they quickly volunteered to pick them up. once ellen found luke in the crowd, she saw quinn then jack and then on the girl she had always considered her daughter. jimmy found them as well and smiled at ellen once he saw that her and jack were holding hands. "blair!" ellen smiled widely, wrapping her arms around the girl. blair was transported back to one of the first hugs she had received from the queen herself and melted. "i've missed you so much babygirl!" she whispered before pulling back to inspect the 5'2 girl. "don't hound her." jimmy joked, and blair smiled before hugging him. jimmy had also considered the young girl their daughter, a testament to the amount of time she spent over at the house. blair stepped back, right to jacks side as they all put the luggage in the back. luke hopped in first, with quinn in the back and then jack and her sat in the middle seats. they drove towards the lakehouse.

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jack gave a tour to blair, and she could only imagine how much fun the three had here during the offseason. it was definitely a bachelors pad, with the amount of boyish and frat items they possessed. "this is your room." jack said opening the guest room door and she saw her luggage. she nodded softly before thanking him. "its late i should start getting ready for bed." she said and he nodded before walking out. she sat on the bed placing her head in her hands. she took in the very clean and crisp guestroom, knowing full well ellen had her hand in here at some point. blair quickly got ready for bed, and then tossed and turned for two hours not being able to fall asleep. especially knowing jack was down the hall, mere feet away from her. the summer after they moved to canton, her and his family went out to new hampshire and spent a month out there living with them. and there were many nights the two fell asleep in each others arms, one or the other not wanting to go back to their bed after talking for hours. jack down the hall was tossing and turning as well, thinking about the same thing. he was about to get up when he heard a soft knock at his door, before it opened. he heard the familiar soft feet of blairs. she had an oversized trojan t-shirt draping over her small frame, as she finally came into view. the moonlight cascading into the bedroom windows, allowing him to see all of her. "i couldn't sleep." she said and he got up, "me neither." he now stood in front of her, and she could feel the familiar warmth of him as he did so. the familiar chest of the hockey player, directly in her eyesight. "i had a feeling you'd be up, bean." he hummed smirking and she rolled her eyes. "what can i say, i missed my twin." she mused looking up at him. "its a good thing i missed you too." he said pulling her in by the cheeks and kissing her. they moved in sync towards the bed, molten with newfound freedom and feelings.

she sat back on the edge of the bed, jack coming in between her legs and then moving her further into the bed. they parted for a brief second, "are you sure?" he questioned and she nodded before she reconnected the two's lips. jack wasted no time in taking her shirt off and then her shorts, but slowly took her all in as if they'd never be in this situation again. "you are a fuckin goddess." he spoke into her neck, planting a few kisses down it. her back arched softly, wanting more of him. she pressed a kiss into his lips as things progressed into more.

•

the two laid in each other's arms, the sun now rising. jack had spent time whispering sweet nothings and sweet words that made her heart swell, for the past two hours. they also spent time talking about what they had missed in the past few years, and talked about their future and what they wanted to do. together and separately. she now had her head on his chest, and was looking up at him. "i want you to come to jersey, i don't care if its fast or careless but i cant go anymore without you. i don't think my heart could handle it." he said softly and she smiled. "thankfully i planned on heading out there." she grinned now, as he smiled. he placed a kiss on her lips once more, entangling once again.

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@jackhughes: look who showed up just in time for the season.

tag: blairanderson

104k likes, 23.7k comments.

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@_quinnhughes: just like old times 🫣🥹

@lhughes_06: mom can u come pick me up pls

@jackhughes: sorry not sorry

@joeyanderson: I guess all is right in the world

@elhughes: it’s is Joey!

@blairanderson: jackyyyy

@jackhughes: blairrrr

@alexturcotte: missed you blair bear !

@blairanderson: missed u too turcs 🫶🏻

@mattboldy: holy crap it actually happened

@blairanderson: it did !!

@fanone: it’s so dry in here

@fantwo: awe she looks so sweet

@colecaufield: happy for you guys!

@jackhughes has liked comment.

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@blairanderson: i could get used to this

Tag: jackhughes

233 likes, 66 comments. (Private account)

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@joeyanderson: gross

@morgansmith: omg i love this !!!!

@joeyanderson: babe no

@blairanderson: I love u morgs!

@camyork: bean!!!!! Oh my god

@blairandersond hi cam cam!

@alexturcotte: I still bet u could still beat him at cards

@blairanderson: I reckon I could 🤝🏻

@jackhughes: it’s on babe!

@elblue: so glad to have you back in the family sweetie!

@blairanderson: me too!!

@jackhughes: I think we should hang one of these up in the condo

@lhughes_06: pls no

@blairanderson: I have so many ideas !!!

@alexvlasic: blair bear omg you posting again?!

@blairanderson: vlassy yes! Ended my hiatus (:

@brendan.brisson: awe my favs

@blairanderson: 🫶🏻

@trevorzegras: happy for you two!!

@blairanderson has liked comment

—

Hope you all enjoyed— please like and reblog if you did!!

Random tags: @huggybug @slafgoalskybaby @cuttergauthier @skatesnstuff @boldysswld @makarhughes @itsnotgray

[goldfish-afterhours]

Genshin Characters During Finals Season (College AU)

Characters: Zhongli, Thoma, Venti, Xiao, Albedo, Bennett, Childe, Kaeya

Type/Genre: Bulleted headcanons, comedy

Warnings: Foul language, slightly suggestive humour/for comedic purposes

Zhongli

Calm and collected at first

As the days go by, Zhongli would start looking more and more like a tired dad

Walks around slightly frowning, bags under his eyes from all nighters, and clutching a mug of coffee so hard that people are afraid it’s gonna break, but even more afraid to tell him to be careful

Has heat compresses on the back of his neck and forehead to ease the headaches from the lack of sleep

Probably told Childe to shut the fuck up and mind your own business when he warned him about his cup

“Childe, if I do not kill this final I will kill you in its stead. Leave me be.”

Thoma

Probably part of one of those student care organizations that makes care packages for other students

His smile when he hands out the packages is so bright and healing it could bring back the dead

Always motivating his peers and tries to keep everyone’s spirits up

Offers to get everyone in the study group coffee

He’s not the best at school but he has a lot of friends that are willing to tutor him and do his assignments help him with his work

Likes to snack while he’s studying

“No giving up yet! Let’s take a snack break, you’ll think better with something in your belly.”

Venti

Chills at a coffee shop with a big friend group to “study”

They do jack shit

Probably spends more time staring at the drink menu than his exam notes

Grade A procrastinator, does all his homework the night before it’s due and studies for exams the morning of

Due tomorrow do tomorrow amiright

Always seems to do okay tho?? People wanna scold him for his bad study habits but he actually does okay in school so they can’t really say anything

Doesn’t study hard but parties 100x harder

“Come on, live a little! If your exam is at 2pm, you can just start studying at 9 tomorrow morning and you’ll be fine.”

Xiao

Pulls all nighter after all nighter after all nighter after all nighter after-

No one can ever find him during the day on campus or in his dorm—it’s like he despawned and just does not exist

Only time he is spotted by others is always at 3am in the morning like a cryptid and he looks like a zombie

He’s actually working a part time job along with going to classes and helping others with their work. An angry looking good boy.

Studies in the lecture halls by himself, blasting music as loud as he can on his headphones to keep himself awake

Mf going to go deaf is2g lower ur volume boi

“…hey. I’m getting a coffee, do you want one?”

Albedo

Plans his time meticulously. Has an extremely organized planner where he writes out exactly what he’s going to do at every hour of the day so he can maximize his week

Includes mealtimes, breaks, and poop times relaxation periods

Usually studies in his room, but for some reason people keep barging in on him to ask for study help so he has to find different hiding places to work in peace

So far, the best place has been the graduate students lounge. No he does not belong there, but no one questions him because it looks like he does

“If you really need my help, I have twenty seven and a half minutes between lunch and my bathroom break this Thursday. Come find me then.”

(Rejected quote: “What’s my masters in? No no, the only thing I’m a master of is your mom.”)

Bennett

The type of person to have the “please don’t talk to me I have work to do and if you talk to me I won’t stop” sign on his back while working in the library

Fell asleep while completing an assignment

Missed the midnight deadline for said assignment

Slept through the exam the next morning

At this point just let him sleep at least he won’t have to deal with it then

“That was a good nap…now I got the energy for my assignment and the exam!”

Childe

Would be a good student if he wasn’t bothering other people so often

Probably bakes when he’s stressed. His roommates are always awoken at 4 in the morning to the sound of the oven beeping and the heavenly smell of freshly baked cookies

Has a friendly rivalry with Zhongli. He always asks when Zhongli will be turning in an assignment, and what mark he’s aiming for for the final exam

Turns in the final paper at least a week before it’s due and aims for ten percent higher than Zhongli on the exam

If he needs bonus marks to reach that then so be it

Otherwise slacks off a bit

He’d be a really good student if he wasn’t so competitive with Zhongli all the time

“You good, Zhongles? You trying to squeeze a better grade out of that mug?”

Kaeya

This man probably used red bull as the liquid for his instant coffee

An absolute menace and loves messing with people

Tells them that the exam is on a whole other different thing than what they were studying for, or that the due date of a big assignment was changed

Nobody goes to him for help

If you do genuinely need help with a concept, though, he’s more than willing to help

Just make sure to provide adequate compensation for him ;)

By compensation I mean more red bull this man has drank 3 cans in ten minutes please stop him

“What? If they do shit, that only helps with our bellcurve, right? Their fault for trusting me anyways~”

[lovelytsunoda]

ghost brigade // pato o’ward

summary: a walk with rocky and norbi turns into an hour spent looking at halloween decorations (and getting the crap scared out of them with animatronic spiders)

pairing: pato o'ward x female reader

warnings: 90% fluff, 10% plot. alludes to the fact that our secy couple spent the night before enjoying each other's company without any clothes on, a few jumpscares, lewis the target pumpkin, shitty ending, dorks in love.

her light snores carried as y/n burrowed further under the blankets, a chill rolling in from the open window. pato's side of the bed was warm, but his body no longer rested next to hers. he looked over fondly from the dresser, pulling a hoodie over his head and mussing his hair slightly.

he could hear claws scraping against hardwood outside the room as rocky came bounding towards the closed bedroom door. the german shepherd barked, and pato quickly opened the door, kneeling down to try and soothe the canine.

"rocky, clam down, boy. y/n is still sleeping." pato whispered, scratching rocky behind the ears. "let me go wake her up gently, okay?"

pato stepped towards the queen sized bed, wincing when he stepped on the clasp of her bra, the article still strewn across the floor from what they had done the night before. the mexican blanket was pulled over her shoulders, only the top of her head peeking out as she slept.

rocky barked again, lumbering over to the bed and resting a paw on her shrouded form.

"pato." she whined, still half asleep, and likely unaware of what she was saying. "can you take rocky outside? i just want ten more minutes."

pato chuckled, moving to sit on the bed next to her.. he combed her hair out of her face, gently kissing the side of her head. "hermosa." he hummed. "pretty girl, love of my life. good morning, sweetheart."

the words were an echo of those exchanged the night prior, foreheads pressed together and patricio buried deep inside of her: "you're doing so good for me, pretty girl. just breathe for me, corazon."

she scrunched her face up, rolling onto her back. "ten more minutes." she whined, before rocky jumped onto the bed, rough tongue licking at her face. "okay, fine! i'm up!"

pato chuckled, kissing her forehead. “good morning, corazon. how did you sleep.”

“like a stone. you must have really tired me out last night.” she winked, pulling her camisole up to cover the hickeys dotting the tops of her breasts.

next to the bed, rocky barked, placing a paw on top of her hand.

“okay, buddy. we get it. let me get dressed, and then we’ll take you outside, okay?”

rocky nodded his head, but the only word he had understood was outside. the german shepherd pranced out of the room, no doubt going to wake norbi, who was probably still asleep in his bed.

“go take the dogs outside, I’ll be out in a minute once i get dressed.” she hummed, leaning in to kiss her boyfriend. “i love you.”

“te amo.” pato grinned, kissing her forehead. “pit stop at starbucks for coffee and croissants?”

“always.”

————

half an hour and one starbucks trip later, they were on the move, sun rising over the horizon as they warmed their hands with coffee cups. the couple were dressed in almost identical cable knit sweaters, her head resting on his shoulder as they paused to let norbi sniff the pile of leaves next to a fire hydrant.

“hey, y/n, look at that haunted house.” patricio pointed down a side street. “wanna go look at the decorations?”

“lead the way, casanova.” she giggled

norbi went down the new street with vigour, sniffing everything in sight, whereas rocky was more apprehensive as he took in the plastic decorations around him.

“pato, look! it’s lewis!” she laughed, reaching for the skeletal pumpkin animatronic.

“i am not a jack-o-lantern. i am lewis!” y/n and pato chorused in time with the animatronic, bursting out into gleeful giggles.

norbi nudged her leg, and y/n cooed as she lifted the corgi into her arms. “oh, poor norbi. are you scared, baby?”

norbi whined, rubbing his nose into her sweater. she chuckled, kissing the dog behind the ears.

“lewis can’t hurt you, buddy.” pato laughed, rubbing norbis head. “do you want me to take your cup?”

she nodded, passing over the remainder of her hot chocolate. “what’s left is mostly whipped cream, i think.”

“you can’t keep carrying norbi. you spoil him too much.”

y/n shook him off, continuing down the sidewalk. “hell jump out of my arms when he’s ready. he doesn’t like the animatronics.”

sure enough, when the couple were four houses down and lewis the pumpkin was out of sight (with a promise from patricio to buy one for the house they shared), norbi jumped out of her arms and back to the sidewalk, rushing to catch up with rocky.

she took her drink back from pato, gently kissing him on the cheek before pointing out an inflatable black cat on one of the lawns they passed. (don't let rocky see that, or we'll be buying them a new one, pato had joked.)

the couple enjoyed their morning like that, walking around and taking in all the decorations, activating animatronics to startle each other. the dogs were enjoying themselves too, being doted on and preened by small children who were walking past with their parents.

they continued walking, until rocky's paw tripped a pedal switch. all at once, from underneath a pile of leaves, a large black fuzzy spider came springing towards them. rock howled in shock as norbi jumped back.

taking pato off guard, rocky went running, and, well, took pato with him. pato swore in spanish, being yanked off his feet and dragged headfirst into a pile of leaves, dropping both coffee cups to the sidewalk.

concerned, rocky ambled over to pato, leash dragging behind him as he licked at the driver's face. y/n was laughing, fumbling her phone out of her pocket to take a picture of her lover splayed against the leaves.

"babe," he whined, on the verge of laughing himself. "this is so not funny."

"it is so fucking funny." she giggled, blowing him a kiss. "laugh it off, babe. they're just leaves."

pato extended a hand. "help me up?"

"sure" she smiled softly, slipping her hand into his.

with a wicked grin, pato yanked hard, pulling her into the leaves with him. she squealed in surprise, giggling as she playfully smacked pato in the chest.

"i love you, you idiot."

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @thatsdemko @diorleclerc @twinkodium @oconso @silverstonesainz @cartierre @lorarri @httpiastri @clemswrld

@celestialpierre

[maskedemerald]

Weaving Webs CH3

Here is chapter three for Invisobang ! The wonderful @pricklenettle did some fantastic art that you'll see embedded through out the fic!

You can check out the fic here or on AO3! (this chapter will be up on AO3 when it stops having trouble, still not letting me edit the fic and I am sad.)

If you like this consider dropping us both a follow!

Warnings: Body horror, manipulation, Spectra is her own content warning, Burns, Spider - for like 2 chapters then it goes away.

The Fenton parents were there when the accident happened, they saw Danny die in an act of sabotage. Now they’re just trying to go on with the strange ghost that is all that's left of Danny. While their old college friend is wondering where the subjects of his revenge are.

[First] [Previous] [Next]

Chapter Three

Maddie lay in bed looking up at the ceiling, Jack snored beside her. He’d only just fallen asleep now as the birds outside began to sing. A night of sleepless numb pain. She peeled off the cover and set about heading downstairs. She wished it was a nightmare. That beyond Danny’s door he was sleeping like normal. He wasn’t and he wouldn’t be again. The house itself was unearthly quiet. Was what was left of Danny gone? Faded away with nothing to anchor it. It hadn’t exactly been very conscious. A very fragile echo. It had just sat in the lab for hours before they managed to pull themselves away.  She feared it being yes and yet also hoped that would be the case. At least then he would rest in peace.

That silence didn’t last. It was cut through with a sharp horrifying scream. Maddie’s half drunk coffee spilled onto the floor along with the shattered remains of her mug. She rushed out of the kitchen and took the stairs as fast as she could. Wishing she was going down if only because she knew she could have gotten to Jazz faster that way. Jack exploded out of the bedroom, there was little that could wake him once he was out but this was one of them. He almost pulled Jazz’s door off its hinges as Maddie caught up to him with an ecto pistol readied in her hand.

Jazz had only screamed once. That had been terrifying in itself but now they could see her it was something else. Jazz was huddled up in the corner of her bed. Her knees pulled up around her as she shook with sobs. At the other end of her bed was the mass of slightly transparent black that was Danny’s ghost. The bulky hazmat looked strange as it curled far easier than it should, allowing for the ghost to nest like a cat on the end of the bed. The very sight of him had a lance of cold pain through her heart.

Green eyes blinked at her, head tilted. Of course the ghost didn’t understand. How could it? It hadn’t expressed any of Danny’s knowledge or understanding. She could feel her eyes sting, empty of tears from too many the night before. It was what was left but it barely was. She placed herself between Jazz and the ghost and guided her out.

Maddie led Jazz downstairs to the kitchen. She paused to sweep up the remains of the mug she’d dropped before starting to make another. This time pouring out 3 mugs as Jack stumbled into the room. He wasn’t getting back to sleep now. Maddie felt a bit like a puppet on a string as she made breakfast on auto drive. Her mind blank, too tired to think. Too numb.

That numbness was broken into fresh sharp edges when she found herself setting down a plate for Danny. The moment she placed it in front of the empty seat it was like everything came crashing down around her all over again. She sobbed. Jack’s arms wrapped around her. He too was shaking with sobs.

A chill fell over the kitchen, more than a breeze from an open window. Blood curdling. Cold fingers down her spine. She shuddered violently. She wasn’t the only one. Glimmering flakes of black fell from the ceiling.

When she glanced up her weapon was out in a second before she had a chance to fully compute the origin of the glowing mass, she was seeing half phased through the ceiling. The flakes were falling from the burnt hazmat suit. Ash. It hung upside down and its head tilted. Its eyes focused on the gun in her hand. Jazz sobbed. Maddie flinched and dropped the gun. It clattered to the floor, its eyes followed for a moment before focusing on them again.

It slipped through the ceiling, dropping slightly as if still affected by gravity despite remaining floating. It hovered prodding at the discarded ectogun. She scrambled to snatch it away from the ghost. She readied it again but didn’t raise it. She couldn’t, not in front of Jazz. Not if the ghost hadn’t attacked. She didn’t believe it could be harmless but there was that hope.

She held the pistol ready, expecting to have to shoot. Expecting for the ghost to lunge at her to get to the weapon. It didn’t. It drifted over to Jack and perched on the back of his abandoned chair.

Jazz leant away from the ghost, “he… he came through the ceiling. It's real. Why does it have to be real?”

Jack tried to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder as he shielded her. She pulled away and fled the room. The ghost’s head followed Jazz as she fled. Maddie tensed ready to run after the ghost if it went for Jazz. Its head tilted but it didn’t leave the perch on the back of the chair. It looked back to them. Maddie couldn’t help but feel relieved at the sound of footsteps up the stairs. Jazz was out of range for now and if the ghost did what was expected then Jazz wouldn’t have to see them deal with it.

Maddie let the tension flow out a little and lowered the weapon slightly. The other shoe hadn’t dropped yet. Jack dropped into Jazz’s abandoned chair just to avoid sharing with the ghost.

“What are we going to do Jack? What happens when things go wrong. We have to sleep, we can’t watch it 24/7.”

“I don’t know Mads. I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head, cradling his head in his hands.

The ghost floated there, just watching them. She circled it, not letting it out of her sight as she approached the kitchen door. She passed the pistol off to Jack who looked up at her.

“I’m going to check on Jazz, you watch the ghost.”

She slipped from the kitchen still not letting her back face the ghost. Whipping round as she reached the stairs.

“You’re good, you have to be. Even if you’re just an echo. I don’t think we could handle otherwise,” she heard Jack plead as she made her way up the stairs.

Jack wasn’t wrong.

[First] [Previous] [Next]

[sequinsmile-x]

Fic request🤭 im obsessed with the thought of Hotch letting it slip that him & Emily are dating by accidentally calling her Em while presenting a case/profile 😩😩

Hi bestie <3

As always, this got massively away from me. I really hope you like this and that it's what you were looking to read <3

-x-

Misdemeanour

/ˌmɪsdɪˈmiːnə/

noun.

a minor wrongdoing.

a non-indictable offence considered to be less serious than a felony

AKA the one where Aaron accidentally reveals his and Emily's secret relationship to the team

-x-

Warnings: none

Words: 4.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily checks her watch as the elevator continues its journey to the ground floor and she groans at the time.

 6 am. 

There was a time when she would have skipped breakfast when they were on a case, desperate to sleep as long as she feasibly could before she’d meet the team in the lobby just as they were leaving for the precinct. It was something Dave in particular would always make fun of her for, especially when her hanger would kick in just around lunchtime, or she’d snack on cookies given to them by the locals. 

Although she couldn’t deny that eating breakfast gave her more energy in the morning, it wasn’t the food that pulled her out of bed. It was Aaron. 

No one on the team knew about them yet, the 8 months they’d been together was something just for them. Only Jack and Jessica knew, and keeping the secret had become part of the fun. She loved sneaking around with Aaron, loved that their relationship was untouched by outside influence or the opinions of others, but she knew it couldn’t last forever. She wanted everything with him - a house, marriage and hopefully a couple more children, and she knew for that to happen they’d have to let the others in. 

The thought of it made her anxious, the feeling crawling through her chest anytime they discussed when to tell everyone. Change was something that never settled well with their friends, especially since her return from Paris almost a year ago, and she didn’t want to disturb the relative peace they had all found after so much upheaval. But she was looking forward to being able to love him in public, to hold his hand in front of their friends and feel the press of his lips against her cheek when they were somewhere other than one of their apartments or hotel rooms. She knew Aaron would tell their friends in a heartbeat, that he wanted everyone to know they belonged to each other, that it was her anxiety holding them back. He was endlessly patient with her and frequently assured her they’d take it at her pace. 

She blows out a breath as she leaves the elevator, leaving any thoughts about anything other than having breakfast with her boyfriend behind. 

She smiles as soon as she spots him in the restaurant. He’s sitting alone in a large booth, clearly having asked for a table big enough for the whole team. She gives her room number to the waiter and walks over, smiling at Aaron as she slips into the booth, moving around until she sits next to him. This had become a tradition of sorts for them almost as soon as they got together. They’d meet for breakfast before anyone else came down from their rooms, both of them desperate to have as much time together as possible, the thought that they’d already lost so much time over the years never too far away, always lingering the back of their minds with a tinge of regret. 

“Morning,” she says, as if she hadn’t snuck out of his room just 30 minutes ago, the taste of his kiss still lingering on hers as she walked back to her room, the chill of the hallway replacing the warmth of him pressed against her skin. 

“Morning,” he replies, smiling at her softly, nodding towards the cup of coffee and plate with two pastries on it in front of her, “I got you some coffee and something to eat.” 

If he was anyone else she knows it would irritate her. She’d been on dates before when the guy she was with would order for her without even asking, a smug smile on his face as he handed the menus back to the waiter as if what he’d just done was something close to charming. 

With Aaron it was different, he ordered her things he knew she liked. He knew she drank coffee first thing in the morning despite still mostly preferring tea, and he knew she liked to start the day with something sweet to eat. It was one of the many subtle ways he would show his love for her and she adored it. He was the only person in her life she trusted to take care of her, the only person she’d allow to do so, and she wanted nothing more than to let him for the rest of their lives. 

“Thanks, honey,” she says quietly, letting the nickname slip free because they were alone. Her prize is a widening of his smile, the appearance of the dimples in his cheeks that she loves to press her thumbs into when she kisses him. 

“You’re welcome,” he replies, placing his hand on her thigh, the move hidden by the table, and he squeezes tightly for a moment before he strokes his thumb back and forth, the heat of his skin warming her even through the material of her pants. He smiles when she yawns as she reaches for her coffee, “Tired?”

She hums, narrowing her eyes at the sparkle in his, the soft, funny side of him she would have once thought he wasn’t capable of, “I didn’t get a lot of sleep.” 

She can’t help but smile when he tightens his grip on her leg, purposely pressing his fingers into bruises he’d sucked into her skin the night before, “Me neither.” 

They sit and eat breakfast together, talking about Jack and their plans for when they get home. For her, home was wherever Aaron was. She spent most of her time at his place these days, his closet half full of her clothes and her favourite book on the nightstand on her side of his bed. On the nights she did go back to her apartment it felt empty, quiet in a way she would have once found peace in but now found suffocating. She hadn’t even completely unpacked yet, a couple of boxes of her things still stacked in the home office. Aaron asked her every time he was over if she wanted him to help unpack them for her but she always said no, distracting him with a smile and a kiss, because unpacking felt pointless. Especially since she was sure she’d officially move in with him soon, the moment their friends knew about them the final catalyst they’d need.

She turns to look at him, to sneak a peek of the slope of his nose, the sharp edges of his jaw, and her eyes meet his. Every time she looked at him, he was already looking at her, adoration leaking from every pore in a way that made her fall even more in love with him. 

“What?” She asks, her cheeks warm with a tinge of embarrassment as his smile gets wider. 

“Nothing,” he says, his eyes flicking towards the restaurant entrance, leaning back a little when he sees the rest of the team walking towards them, “You’re just beautiful, that’s all.” 

She doesn’t have time to respond before the others sit down, bringing her alone time with Aaron to an end until they either solve the case and go home or come back to the hotel that evening. 

“Good morning,” Dave says as he sits down, sliding into the booth next to Emily, followed by Derek on his other side, “How did everyone sleep?” 

“Like a baby,” Aaron says, hiding his smile behind his coffee as runs his thumb up the inseam of Emily’s pants. She glances at him through the side of her eyes and places her hand over his on her leg, her nails digging into his skin a little, something that only seems to encourage him more, “What about you, Prentiss? How did you sleep?”

“I slept okay,” she says, raising her eyebrow at him, “My bed was comfortable. A little too warm though.” 

He shakes his head at her subtly, something only she picks up on, and she presses her lips together to stop herself from smiling. She picks up her coffee to take a sip, distracting herself with the warmth of it.

“You guys are lucky,” JJ says from the end of the table, nodding towards Spencer who was sitting next to her, “Someone on my floor sounded like they were filming a porno in their room,” she says, “I’m surprised you didn’t hear it Hotch, you’re only a few rooms down from me.” 

Emily coughs, choking on the coffee she was swallowing, and everyone looks at her. Aaron pats her on the back, his touch simultaneously helping clear her chest and putting her more on edge. 

“You ok, Prentiss?” Aaron asks, concern slipping into his expression.

“I’m fine,” she wheezes, reaching for a glass of water, “The coffee just went down the wrong way, that’s all.” 

“Maybe this is why you never used to have breakfast with us, Bella,” Dave says, a smirk spreading across his face, “You can’t even drink a cup of coffee correctly first thing in the morning.” 

She narrows her eyes at him, “Shut up, Dave.”

___

He’d once convinced himself he’d never find love again. 

He told himself he didn’t deserve another chance, that Haley had been his one shot and he’d messed it up and that he’d have to spend the rest of his life alone. It was a thought that was only solidified when he’d been unable to save her, her death something that he carried on his shoulders everywhere he went, the weight of it sometimes insurmountable as he watched Jack grow, something Haley would never be able to do. 

He was somewhere close to content with it. The loneliness he’d feel a penance of sorts, a punishment he deserved for not being able to keep his family together and safe.

Then Emily happened. She came back from Paris, fragile in a way only he seemed to be able to see. Everyone else wanted her back as who she was before, their own trauma around what had happened to her, the loss they’d experienced when they thought she was dead, clouding their judgement when it came to how she was doing. 

Aaron knew he was in love with her the moment he sent her away. He’d visited her in the hospital, still wearing the suit he’d worn to her funeral, and apologised to her even though she was unconscious, sedated so she didn’t feel the immeasurable pain her body was in. It was the first time he’d held her hand, her skin colder than he now knew it usually was, and he’d struggled to let go. 

He hadn’t wanted to lose her again, so he’d told her to tell him when she was having a bad day, initially under the guise of needing to know as her boss, a weak excuse that fell away the first day he showed up on her doorstep, Jack by his side, as he insisted she came with them to the park. Things between them had developed quickly, the friendship they’d had before Ian had come into their lives back on track before that itself transformed into something new. He’d felt the shift between them, always caught her looking at him when she thought he wasn’t looking, but he’d held back, not wanting to force her into a situation she wasn’t comfortable with when she was still trying to recover.

She’d kissed him first. Her lips soft against his one evening as they sat together on his couch, his life shifting on its axis again just mere feet away from the last time it had, the outline of where he’d almost bled out on his apartment floor by Foyet’s hand still visible to him occasionally in the dead of night. 

After that, he couldn’t believe he’d once convinced himself he could live without love. Being loved by Emily was something he now couldn’t live without. She always had been a woman of contradictions, and the way she loved was no different. She was subtle about it - leaving him little notes or drawing hearts in the steam on the mirror after she’d showered. She’d make sure he ate at work and switch his coffee to decaf halfway through the day so he’d have some chance of sleeping. She helped Jack with his homework, or played video games with him, purposely losing at MarioKart at the last second so the little boy would win.

She was also loud about her love for him. She’d tell him all the time, the words she’d initially struggled to set free escaping all the time, pressed against his lips each morning as they got out of bed, or his neck as she drifted to sleep at night. She was tactile, finding ways to touch him all the time, even in front of their friends as she let her fingers linger over his when she passed him a case file or a cup of coffee. She spent money on him like it was no issue, which he knew it wasn’t for her, leading to an argument once over her buying him a $15,000 watch when he broke his one morning. 

He hoped more than anything that she felt as loved as he did, that she knew how precious she was to him. How much he treasured her. He wanted to shout it from the rooftops, to tell everyone how much he loved her, and he knew he would be able to soon, when they finally told their friends they were together. He could wait as long as she needed him to, but he could tell she was close to feeling comfortable with it - her desire to move forward with him, to move in officially, finally outweighing her anxiety around the team's reactions. 

He smiles as he hears her laugh across the conference room they’d set up in. He looks up to find her talking to Dave, a smile on her face as the other man rolls his eyes, clearly at the expense of whatever joke she’d told. He loved her smile. It always lit up whatever room she was in, her beauty drawing in those around her. She looks over at him as if she could sense him looking, and he sees the familiar love sparkling in her eyes. It was the same way she looked at him when they were spending a casual Saturday with Jack, or the way she would look at him when he woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, the ghost of Foyet’s knife hot in his chest. She’d sit up with him, her hand on the back of his neck and her forehead against his until his breathing slowed down, and then she’d pull back and look at him, her eyes full of love and affection as she talked to him about anything and everything as he came back to himself. 

Aaron clears his throat and the team falls into silence as they walk over and sit down he doesn’t miss the flash of amusement that flits across Emily’s face as she takes her seat. She made no secret of the fact she enjoyed it when he commanded a room without even speaking. 

“There was another attack overnight,” he says as he sits down too, “Dave, I need you and Reid to go to the crime scene, see if you can pick up on anything that the locals missed,” he waits for them to nod in confirmation before he turns to Emily, “Em, you and Morgan should go to the hospital - talk to last nights victim.” He frowns when Emily’s eyes go wide, a reaction shortly followed by everyone else tilting their heads at him curiously, looking back and forth between him and Emily, “What?” 

“You called her Em,” Dave says, his eyes narrowing as he looks between them, and Aaron curses himself internally, swallowing thickly as he looks back at Emily who was staring at the table to avoid eye contact with everyone, “Oh my god.” 

Spencer frowns, “I’m confused.” 

“They’re sleeping with each other,” Derek says, his arms crossed tight over his chest, his jaw tense. 

JJ chuckles and leans back in her chair, “Pen was convinced you were seeing someone and I thought she was being crazy.” 

“I’m still confused,” Spencer says, his eyebrows creasing together, “Why does Hotch calling her Em mean they are sleeping together?” 

Dave rolls his eyes, “Because he never calls her anything other than Prentiss. Emily would be weird enough, Em is a whole new-”

“That’s enough,” Aaron says, finally finding his voice, cutting over any further conversation. He looks at Emily and she’s already looking at him, and she nods ever so slightly, silent permission to carry on, “Yes, Emily and I are together,” he holds up his hand to stop them from talking again, his expression stern as he keeps them quiet, “But we are at work and there is an unsub to catch. This can wait.” 

He knows they aren’t happy, a mix of irritation and amusement painted across their faces, but they nod, each of them standing up and ready to go. He gets Emily’s attention, his hand around her wrist in a display of affection he’ll allow himself this once. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, swallowing thickly against the guilt that climbs up his throat, “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay,” she replies, placing her hand over his as she smiles at him, “I know you didn’t mean to,” she looks over her shoulder and sees their friends looking at them, apart from JJ who was furiously texting, “They know now at least.” 

Aaron looks at Derek, the tension in the man’s frame clear from across the room, “Do you need me to talk to him?” 

Emily smiles lovingly at him and shakes his head, “I can handle Derek,” she frowns as her phone vibrates in her pocket and she rolls her eyes as she opens a text and turns her phone to show him, “Pen knows.” 

YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH THE BOSSMAN?! CALL ME NOW. 

He groans, “It’s going to be a long day.” 

She hums, “So long.”

___

Emily groans as she sits down on the couch in Aaron’s office, “Do you think you could ban them from talking about our relationship ever again?” 

He smiles as he kisses the top of her head before he walks to his desk, putting down the case files in his hand, “Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t think the president himself could stop them.” 

She scoffs jokingly and narrows her eyes at him, “What is the point of sleeping with the boss if he can’t intimidate your friends for you?” 

She was grateful that they’d finished the case as quickly as they had and that they were home. She hadn’t been able to face the idea of heading back to the hotel with them tonight knowing that the team would be aware they’d be heading to the same room. The flight home had been long, an endless barrage of questions about their relationship, about why they’d kept it secret for 8 months. Overall, it had gone better than she’d expected. They were curious, maybe a little hurt that they’d kept a secret, but they were also happy for them, able to see even only with the small amount of context they had that Emily and Aaron were good for each other. 

Derek had, however, reacted exactly as she thought he would. He’d been off with her all day, only speaking about things related to the case, and had been more passive-aggressive with his questioning than the others. He’d implied things she hadn’t fully understood, her confusion only deepening when Aaron had reacted in a way that seemed over the top, his protective instincts kicking in before he could fully stop them. 

“It’s disappointing I know,” he deadpans, walking back over to sit next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. The rest of the team had gone home straight from the jet so it was just the two of them. 

“Can I ask you something?” She says, tilting her head to look at him, and he nods, running his fingers up and down her arm. 

“Anything, you know that.” 

She smiles at him, “What do you Derek meant when he said it was typical for me to sleep with you?” 

He has to cover a growl, the fury he’d felt on the jet coming back in full force as he thinks about it. He’d never told Emily about what Derek had said when she was on the run from Ian, when emotions were running high and everything they’d ever known about her was unravelling right in front of them. He’d been angry at the time when he’d found out about it but had kept it to himself, not wanting to hurt Emily anymore than she’d already been hurt or to fracture her friendship with Derek anymore than it already had been. 

“It’s nothing,” he says, trying to push past it, and she raises her eyebrows at him, her hand reaching for his as she links their fingers together. 

“Aaron, please,” she says, “You almost yelled at him, you looked angry. You clearly thought he was talking about something specific,” she looks at him and waits for him to say something else but he doesn’t. “We don’t lie to each other.” 

He sighs and nods, pulling her slightly closer, “When you were on the run from Ian and we found out about everything, about the nature of your relationship with him, Derek…he said some things,” he says carefully, his heart cracking in his chest when he sees the look on her face, the pieces all falling into place for her.

“Oh,” she says, clearing her throat to try and push her emotions back down into her chest, a mix of anger and sadness burning her from the inside out, “I see.” 

“You know what he’s like, sweetheart,” he says, reaching up to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on her cheek, “He lashes out when he doesn’t know what else to do. It doesn’t excuse it, but it’s what he does.”

She nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she blows out a steady breath, “Yeah,” she says, smiling tightly at him. A thought occurs to her that makes her nauseous, her stomach rolling as she looks back up at him, “It’s never bothered you, has it?” 

He frowns, looking at her like she is crazy, and he shakes his head, pulling her in for a kiss as if to prove his point, before he looks at her, a hand on each of her cheeks as he holds her in place, “There isn’t a single thing you could ever do that would make me any less in awe of you.” 

She chokes on a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob and she shakes her head at him, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he replies, leaning in to kiss her, his lips just shy of hers when there is a squeal at the door, pulling them both apart. Aaron sighs when he sees Penelope standing in the doorway, “Hi Garcia.”

“Hi,” she says, frozen to the spot, her body tense with what they both knew was excitement, as if moving would make her explode, “This is adorable.” 

Emily has to press her lips together to stop herself from laughing at how uncomfortable her boyfriend clearly is. She squeezes his hand, forcing his attention back to her. 

“Honey,” she says, more for Penelope than anyone else, smiling when her friend squeals again, “Why don’t you give us a few minutes?” 

He frowns at her, “This is my office,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow at him. He shakes his head and stamps a kiss to her cheek, “I’ll be back in a few minutes.” 

“Thanks,” she says, watching as he awkwardly nods at Penelope as he walks past her, forcing her to smother another laugh. She smiles at her friend the moment they are alone, “Okay, let me have it.”

Penelope moves faster than Emily thought was possible, already next to her on the couch and talking at the speed of light, “How long has this been going on? Why didn’t you tell us? JJ wouldn’t tell me anything you told them.” 

“I asked her not to,” Emily explains, “We’ve been together 8 months, and we just…wanted it to ourselves for a while.” 

She knows it’s not a great explanation, that it sounds close to pathetic when said outloud, but it’s the only way she can describe it. She knew on some level she’d miss the secrecy, the way it allowed her to protect something so precious to her for so long, but she was also excited to move forward.

Penelope hums and narrows her eyes, “I’ll accept that for now, but if you think you’re getting away with that answer on the next girl’s night you have another thing coming.” 

Emily laughs and nods, “I’ll have to warn Aaron that you’ll be asking all sorts of questions about our sex life.”

“Bossman does look like he’s got some moves,” Penelope says, “It’s always the quiet, broody ones.” 

Emily hums, “You have no idea.” 

Penelope pulls her into a hug, “I’m so happy for you, Peaches,” she says, squeezing her tightly, “I thought you must have been with someone, you’ve just seemed…lighter recently. I never would have guessed it was Hotch though.” 

She smiles as she pulls back from the hug, “He’s…” she drifts off, not sure how to put it, how to explain just what Aaron was to her, and she sighs, not letting herself overthink it, “Everything.” 

Her friend's eyes go wide and she grasps her hands tightly, “Oh just look at you,” Penelope says, “I’ve never seen you this happy. What did the others say?”

“They were shocked, but happy too,” she says, her smile faltering slightly, “Mostly.” 

Penelope frowns, “What do you mean mostly?” 

Emily sighs,  Aaron’s admission still floating around the back of her mind. She knew she’d have to talk to Derek about it eventually, have it out with him, because she couldn’t let the way he’d spoken about her stand. She wouldn’t let him compare her relationship with Aaron to what she’d had with Ian, wouldn’t let him minimise what she’d fought so hard for. 

“Derek was…being Derek,” she says, scrunching her nose up slightly, “He wasn’t exactly pleased.”

Penelope hums disapprovingly, “You leave him to me, I won’t let him ruin this for me.” 

Emily presses her lips together as an amused smile breaks out across her face, “Don’t you mean you won’t let him ruin his for me and Aaron?” 

Penelope waves at her dismissively, “That too.” 

-x-

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[sourlemonsprout]

gn!reader x Alphonse

Word Count: 1,078 (This piece briefly references the "Summer Eve w/ Your Pastel Punk Boyfriend" vid from like 4yrs ago.)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Music?" Al cocked his head slightly.

"Yeah! Remember when we got ice cream the other week? At the beach, you said if I was interested we could hang out sometime. Your suggestion of lying around and listening to music actually sounded really nice. That is if you're cool with that?" you said, your eyes scanning around the store, lightly bitting at the corner of your bottom lip.

oh-

"Uh yeah, yeah! That would be cool. I close up shop in a little over an hour. Is that alright?" He asked, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Sure thing! I'll come back then!" You said, waving as you headed out the door.

fuck they're cute

The shop had been a wasteland the rest of the day, so Alphonse eventually decided to close the shop a little early. The second the doors were locked and lights were out, he scrambled to clean his apartment. The clothes on the bedroom floor got kicked into the closet. The dishes beside the kitchen sink were cleaned in record time. Just before he heard a knocking at the shop's doors, he was able to tidy up the living room area. Taking a deep breath, Al ran his hand through his hair and glanced around the apartment one last time before answering the door.

"Hey there, come on in," he motioned inside.

"Again, feel free to grab anything you'd like from the shop," he said, locking the door once again behind him.

"Thanks, my day was kinda shitty, so I appreciate this," you admit. As you pass the rows of shelves stocked with delicious sweet treats, you snatch a KitKat from a basket as you walk beside Al to the back door.

"Oh, sorry to hear that. Did you wanna talk about it…?" He offered.

"Nah, it's not that serious. I just wanna chill and forget about it," you say, chomping directly into the top of the KitKat bar, which makes Al chuckle and admittedly cringe a little. You pause for a moment once you've reached the vaguely familiar living quarters you visited once before. Absentmindedly, you chew at your lip, taking in the apartment properly this time. Alphonse briefly looked around the room before his eyes landed on you. He can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to his cheeks as he watches you bite your lip innocently. As nonchalantly as possible, Al ducked behind you and made his way over to the kitchen. Now out of sight, a deep breath to regain his composure.

"Make yourself comfortable! I'm gonna grab some water. You want anything to drink?" he called out.

"I'm alright, thanks!" you call back, oblivious to Al's fluster. You wander over to the living room and sit in front of the couch on the carpet with one leg up and the other crossed underneath. You watch Al enter the room carrying a deck of cards, a baby blue speaker, and a glass of water. Upon reaching you, he places the water down on a little coffee table and hands you the speaker to which you're making little grabby hands.

"I thought it'd be fun to have something to do while we listen to music." Al gestured to the cards in his hand. As you eagerly queue up a list of songs, Alphonse begins to shuffle the deck of cards.

"So what games do we know how to play?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Crazy Eights, Slap Jack, Rummy, Black Jack, uhh… Go Fish?" he reeled off.

"Ooo, it's been a minute since I've played any card game," you pondered your options for a moment.

"Let's start out with Crazy Eights, I definitely know that one!" you decide. Alphonse deals out seven cards each, his head nodding in beat with the song pouring out of the speaker.

The first few turns passed slowly as you both sorted your cards and got into the rhythm of the game. Alphonse found it silly how much strategy you were trying to implement in a game he believed to be mostly chance. After several rounds of skill, luck, and shit-talking, you were both tied.

"We need a tiebreaker," you declare, reaching for the deck of unorganized cards.

Al sarcastically said, "Obviously, the town would be devastated if we didn't determine which of us is the Crazy Eight's champion," rolling his eyes with a grin. Thus began an intense game (mainly for you) for the crown and title of official Crazy Eights champion.

Rolling the bottom of your lip under your teeth, you surveyed your cards intently, plotting your next move as if money were on the line. Alphonse smiled softly as he watched you concentrate. His heart flutters at the way you nibble at your lips, causing them to swell and redden. Your expression delates with defeat and your eyebrows furrow as you realize you have to pick up cards from the draw pile. A warm bubbly feeling swells in Al's chest, and suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to lean across the table and kiss yo-

"AH HA!" You shout triumphantly, making Al jump slightly at the sudden outburst as you proudly display an eight or spades.

"I call clubs babyyyy," you declare smugly, knowing damn well Al didn't have a single club card in his hand. Alphonse chuckled as you slid the entire draw deck towards his side of the table.

"You're something else, you know that?" he shook his head, drawing his seventh card.

As the night wore on, you and Alphonse continued to play card games and listen to music, occasionally pausing to chat about life and share stories. Any tension or fluster Al once felt had melted into a comfortable ease, it felt lovely to open up to someone like this again. As the clock struck midnight, you both decided it was time to call it quits.

"Thanks for tonight, Alphonse. I had a lot of fun," you said, standing up from the floor to stretch.

"I did too. We should do this again sometime," he replied, walking you to the door.

"Goodnight," he whispered, his eyes meeting yours.

"Goodnight," you replied, feeling a warmth spread through your body.

As you walked home under the beautiful night sky, you couldn't wipe the smile from your face. Maybe there was something there between you and Alphonse, something worth exploring. Only time would tell, but for now, you were content basking in the glow of a wonderful evening.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The End!

Thanks again @sleeplessdreamer14 for the req/idea! <3

I'm not exactly sure why this is the story route I went down, but I must really want to play a card game or something considering this is the second piece I've written where card games are involved lol.

[courtingchaos]

Eddie Munson x Reader (kind of?)

18+ No Minors

The meeting lets out after sunset and this time of year always makes Eddie feel like he’s missed a step on the stairs when it happens. What feels like a high noon sun disappears after two hours inside the rec center, plunging him into the winter darkness. Even with the chill people still mill around out front with their little paper cups of cheap coffee clutched in their hands while they say their long winded goodbyes. He knows they mean well and it’s good that everyone has connections but all he ever wants to do is leave after these meetings. Get in his van and drive for an hour to unwind the spool of thread that’s been spun tight around the bobbin of therapy.

You weren’t there tonight but he isn’t surprised, still misses you though. He could sense your anger mounting all last month and when you didn’t show last week he didn’t jump to a conclusion for the first time in long time. He sat through the meeting and listened to Charles and his droning calm and when he’d been let loose on the cold streets he’d made a beeline for the pay phone outside.

“Hello?”

“It’s Eddie.”

“Okay.”

A clink of a spoon on pottery, probably one of the misshapen bowls you’d made.

“I’m just checking in.” He shrugs even though you can’t see it. Keeps his tone light especially since you answered after two rings.

The improbable can’t be happening if you’re eating cereal after all.

“Did Charles ask you to call?” A snide remark followed by a crunch of what he can safely assume is Kix.

“No, I made a big boy decision all by myself.”

“Well that’s very brave of you.” Your tone suggest mocking of your group leader and Eddie huffs a laugh into the receiver.

“I figured you wouldn’t be here, but…” Eddie trails off because he isn’t going to tell you he misses you because that would suggest he’s in touch with his emotions, the very things he staunchly ignores in favor of keeping the panic attacks at bay.

“Was I so obvious?”

“A little. The storming out tends to tell people you’re a upset.”

You’re quick with your reply. “I wasn’t upset with you.”

“I know.” The cold creeps in under his layers and the flannel tied around his waist isn’t doing much to keep his lower half warm. Around him headlights swing around the faces of the buildings as everyone starts to finally head home. He tucks the phone against his shoulder so he can huff air into his palms to warm up and you must hear him.

“Are you still downtown?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna come over? I’m just watching Happy Days reruns.” More crunching but a bowl of cereal actually sounds good right about now. He wants to say yes because he likes your couch, it’s dented in the right ways and he sinks into it every time. He also really likes your cat JD but who you call Tubs on account of him being so rotund.

“It stands for Jack Daniel, I bet you can’t guess what I was up to when I found him.”

But there’s this street light that doesn’t work right outside of your third floor apartment. Sometimes it’s perfectly fine but then some other times when he falls asleep on your too comfortable couch he wakes to a flickering. Something that seems to be Morse code, a cry for help from a sewn up dimension and it sends him into a spiral.

“I was uh, thinking about-“

“They fixed the street light.”

His pause must have been longer than he thought. “Uh, yeah I-I’m sorry about last time. I didn’t mean to swing at you-“

“I shouldn’t have just grabbed you.” You dismiss him, not unkindly, but for the umpteenth time he’s apologizing and you’ve said it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault he’d seen a petaled face in the dark of your apartment while you’d tried to calm him down. “Okay, let me rephrase this then. If you’re comfortable, the invitation is open to come have cereal with me and watch Happy Days-no wait I think it’s Bewitched now, yeah Bewitched reruns with me.”

“Oh Samantha is a weak spot for me.” Eddie drops another quarter in when he’s prompted. “I always liked that little nose wiggle.”

The silence stretches for a moment while he deliberates and you seem to move around your place. A quiet chirp tells him JD is weaving between your feet and looking for dinner and honestly, Eddie shares the feeling. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” Your voice ticks up in excitement he hasn’t heard in a while from you and it makes his decision concrete.

“Yeah, I’ll be over in ten.”

Played up whooping from you ends his phone call and he only has to grip his steering wheel a little bit before he finally turns his van on and heads to your place.

He lets himself in when he gets there. A bowl for him already on your beat up coffee table and JD sitting in Eddie’s usual spot. The couch swallows him like normal and he relaxes for the first time today. You tell him you’ll be at next weeks meeting and then show him that you can also do the nose the Samantha Nose Wiggle. It makes him laugh while he digs into his second bowl of Froot Loops and the street lamp doesn’t flicker once.

[davycoquette]

Writerly Questionnaire

I got tagged back in my own questionnaire (tysm @saturnine-saturneight), so here we go!

By the way, if you see this and feel up to answering it, please do! I’d also love if you tagged me in your response so I can be sure to read it!

Smol trigger warning for mentions of various tough things.

About You

When did you start writing? I’ve been writing since I could hold a pen, quite frankly! As a toddler, I’d draw doodles then scrawl zig zags beneath to represent the “words” of the illustrated story. They became real words as I learned to read. I was never found without a notebook.

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write? I read a lot of stuff I don’t think I could ever actually write. My all-time favorite author is Cormac McCarthy, followed by Jane Austen and Jack London. Larry McMurtry is becoming a fast favorite. My stories tend to require less lived experience. I am not well traveled or thoroughly educated, so, while I’m happy to do research, I most often write stuff that requires less expertise. I also write more about gay cowboys than any of the authors named above — at least as far as is publicly known.

Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared? I have been compared to Chuck Palahniuk, which is enormously flattering (if not deserved!) It’s massively important to me to have my own style/voice, so I don’t want to write like anyone but me… but I would love one day to harness even a modicum of McCarthy’s talent.

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? (Room, coffee shop, desk, etc.) At a desk or coffee shop. The stars must align just so, my mood must be just so, I must have creative juices flowing and absolutely no distractions or particularly strong feelings. (I end up not writing anything more often than not.)

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse? I wish I knew. Inspiration hits me light a lightning bolt once in a blue moon. Other than that, maladaptive daydreaming watching head movies. Music is an excellent source of muse.

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about? Absolutely. In a way that reminds me a bit of Donald Ray Pollock, who writes about a pretty bleak and raunchy Appalachia.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all? Loneliness, self-loathing, self sabotage, addiction in many forms, mental illness, abuse, and suicidal ideation/thoughts/attempts, “taboo” romances (usually sexuality vs time period). Some of these come as a slight surprise; others are no surprise at all.

Your Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.) It’s Shiloh. I have no idea why. He’s been my favorite since 2018 or 2019. He’s weird as hell but writing him comes effortlessly.

Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life? Preferably none. They’re kinda awful. In all seriousness, maybe Lou? He’s chill and makes a good listener.

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them? Ruck. We have nothing in common, would have nothing to talk about, and his poor decisions would stress me out. He’s one of my favorite characters I’ve ever written, but I would hate to actually know him.

Tell me about the process of coming up with of one, all, or any of your characters. Just about every one of my favorites started out as a side character meant to garner very little attention. Somehow or another, they demanded to be written — demanded I let their personalities shine. And lo, here they are.

Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters? Mentally ill lonesome addicts.

How do you picture them? (As real people you imagined, as models/actors who exist in real life, as imaginary artwork, as artwork you made or commissioned, anime style, etc.) As real people! Often I’ll pick a model/actor as a template, but they always evolve into a slightly varied appearance from that person in my imagination.

Your Writing

What’s your reason for writing? It feels so compulsory there’s no other option but to write.

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers? I like when people tell me what they felt when they read my writing. Whether it’s attachment or hatred aimed at a character, or nostalgia, or just feeling like they were there when the scene took place. Anything that shows they absorbed and enjoyed it feels like the hugest compliment.

How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work? (For example: as a literary genius, or as a writer who “gets” the human condition; as a talented worldbuilder, as a role model, etc.) I want people to think, this bitch loves words. She loves writing. She is a writer.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer? Making people feel endeared to the characters. Realistic dialogue. Getting inside a character’s head.

What have you been frequently told your greatest writing strength is by others? Pacing & setting description. Which is awesome, but I always feel like these things are weaknesses of mine? I’m always iffy about them - pacing in particular. I have no idea how to do it, but I’ve been told I do it well. That said, there are definitely things -I- think I do well that get the most negative feedback/criticism.

How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question.) Writing is the only thing I feel I do relatively well. I’m certainly not the world’s best, and I don’t think I’m really ready to be published or anything like that - but I am pretty proud of it. It’s the only thing I feel this way about. I want to show it to people. I wanna talk about it. I love to read what I wrote. It feels gross to say that, but I’m making myself say it anyway, lmfao. I love to see other people feel this way vs anxious or self conscious about their writing.

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write? Yeah, for sure. I don’t know if I’d write as much fiction, because part of the fun is talking with others about it. But I’d still journal, and I would still imagine stories in my mind.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence? I hate this question, wtf Davy. It’s a slight mix. I’ll admit a part of me wants validation from others, but a larger part would rather write what she wants to write than turn it into a chore. Doing something just to entertain others is definitely a chore. My writing is heavily self-indulgent and I think it may suffer a little from that - but it also means when people enjoy it, they enjoy it more. I think it’s the same for any writer who does it this way. When I belonged to a huge online critique group, I edited the life out of a novel I was working on and made it less enjoyable to its biggest fans while trying to net a larger audience. I now know that was a huge mistake, because having a tiny group of people who eat your shit up is way better than having a ton of people read it, approve of it, but ultimately forget it existed because it wasn’t memorable.