#like it was so cold and I was not dressed as warmly as I should’ve been

[fortheloveofgodmontresor]

Extremely cold and long hike today

[ourlittleforever]

(You're A) Strange Animal

The girl returned to the kitchen and began to prepare something to eat. Lazav relaxed as best he could. He’d eat whatever the girl brought him and then leave. He had more important things to do than entertain the whims of a Selesnyan, no matter how much they helped him. A year and a half later, Lazav was entertaining the whims of a Selesnyan.

Also on AO3!

Words: 1466 Rating: T

Lazav leaned against the brick wall, clutching his side. Boiling hot blood seeped out from under his fingers. He winced. Part of him wondered if faking his own death would be worth it, considering how close he was to dying at that moment. He slunk down the brick and groaned in pain, fingers digging into his ribs. His life couldn’t be over now.

Somewhere close, a door slammed closed, and he could vaguely register the pitter-patter of footsteps.

A member of the Conclave appeared in his vision, kneeling before him. They had pointed elf ears, but a rounded face and short stature belied a human heritage. “Hey,” they whispered, reaching out to Lazav with a freezing cold wash rag. They pressed the rag against his side and he snarled. “This will stop the inflammation and bleeding. Hold it tight,” they instructed. The half-elf knelt down beside him and gingerly touched his cheek. For a brief moment, Lazav was confused as to why he felt facial hair bristle under their fingers; then, he remembered he’d taken Merret’s form upon escaping the cave troll. 

His thoughts were interrupted by the half-elf girl shouldering under his arm and helping pull him up from the ground. “Come with me,” they urged. “My house isn’t far from here. You can heal up.” Lazav could no longer feel blood dripping from his wound, so the girl’s ice-cold rag had helped after all. So strange, for a Selesnyan to help the Dimir.

And this girl could clearly see he was dressed like Dimir agent. Yet they were pulling Lazav along, allowing him to enter their abode without a second thought. They guided him to the couch and set him down before running off to their kitchen, mumbling something about a salve. 

Two cats circled the girl’s feet before the orange-and-white feline – a clear bruiser of a tom – cautiously approached Lazav’s wounded form. The other cat, an older white female, skittered away and hid under a chair. 

The girl returned to Lazav with the salve and gently moved the bloodied rag so they could clean the wound properly.

“Why are you helping me?” he asked, if anything to distract himself from the stinging in his side. He should’ve healed by now on his own, yet the wound still seeped. “You are Selesnya. I am Dimir. We’re enemies.”

“We have bigger enemies right now,” they replied mildly, and Lazav couldn’t argue. “Besides, you needed help. We’re supposed to help people.” The girl applied the salve as tenderly as they could. “I couldn’t just leave you there to die.”

Lazav digested that in silence as the girl bandaged the wound and adjusted his clothes for him. “Thank you,” he said after a moment.

“Yeah, no problem.” The girl smiled warmly, and Lazav was taken aback by their sincerity. He scanned their thoughts for any kind of ulterior motive, anything they could use against him – but instead, the only thought related to him was He’s kind of cute. Unfortunately for this poor half-elf, Merret was married, and was as useless a lackey as they came. 

The girl returned to the kitchen and began to prepare something to eat. Lazav relaxed as best he could. He’d eat whatever the girl brought him and then leave. He had more important things to do than entertain the whims of a Selesnyan, no matter how much they helped him.

—

A year and a half later, Lazav was entertaining the whims of a Selesnyan.

He appeared in Millie’s dreams at first, watching their passing fancies at a distance, but that was not nearly close enough for his tastes. He arrived at their door as a haggard old tom cat, and was quite pleased whenever they held him against their warm, plush chest and scratched behind his ears. However, their other cats became jealous, and Millie became tearful whenever Vasiliy and Murka were upset, so Lazav stopped coming around as a cat. 

He returned to their dreams but actively sought out interaction. Millie was skeptical at first, but a bit of sweet coaxing and teasing of romance brought them around quickly. They were practically putty in his hands.

Lazav was an expert in using any sort of charm to get what he wanted. Mind tricks, shapeshifting, a single whispered word, and anyone would fall to their knees before him. But he found that he didn’t want to manipulate Millie. Not like that. He desired… connection from them. Genuine connection. So he simply behaved as a gentleman and convinced them to come see him.

And there they were, sitting before him at a coffee shop, sipping on a drink so loaded with flavored syrup it couldn’t be called coffee anymore. They grinned at him, offering him the straw. “Here. Try some.”

Lazav sighed, but took a sip, and cringed at how overwhelmingly sweet the drink was. Millie sat the drink down on the table, and Lazav took the opportunity to take their little hand and examine their nails. “You need them redone,” he commented casually. “I’ll take you to have them repainted this afternoon.”

“You don’t have to,” Millie mumbled, their face reddening slightly. “I could pay for it.”

“I enjoy spoiling you. Hush, now, kisa.” He ran his thumb over their smooth knuckles. Millie’s skin was miraculously soft; for a former member of the Conclave, they were averse to labor, so their hands remained callous-free and gentle. He smiled at them, and Millie smiled back. He wore a charmed cloak that allowed Millie to see his “true” face while the rest of Ravnica saw another man entirely. His poor little half-elf had been quite upset that they weren’t able to see their partner when they went out, so Lazav had this cloak charmed all for them. Spoiled rotten girl, he thought fondly. That was his fault. Another smile formed on his lips.

“Thank you,” Millie said, squeezing Lazav’s hand. “Can we go walk around the Second District today?”

“Of course, kukolka. Anything for you.” He watched Millie’s bright green eyes light up, and Lazav wanted nothing more than to snatch them away and hide them from the rest of Ravnica. Such a pretty little thing should be reserved for him alone! 

But… Millie would be unhappy, and his heart broke at the thought.

So instead, he took their hand and led them from the cafe, to give them another night of their dreams.

—

Millie and Lazav returned to the half-elf’s apartment sometime after four in the morning. Nails, shopping, a play, drinks, capping off with the Broken Toybox – Millie had a sleepy yet pleased expression on their face from a risqué night on the town as they unlocked the door to their home, with Lazav following close behind. He thought of how he was covertly rebuilding Duskmantle, and considered broaching the subject of moving Millie to the Undercity with him. He needed them closer. Beside him, always.

A strange feeling tugged at his heart as he watched Millie set their keys down and greet Vasiliy and Murka. The cats still regarded Lazav warily, but tripped over each other greeting Millie, who cooed sweetly to each. “My babies! My sweet babies, I missed you, too…”

Their naivete both endeared and frustrated Lazav. How could Millie have lived through two invasions, been exiled from their guild, and remain so kind? Didn’t they know that Ravnica, nay, the Multiverse was cruel? That Lazav was part of why Ravnica could be such a cruel place?

Surely they had to know. Maybe they denied it. Maybe they didn’t care. 

“Millichika,” Lazav said, swallowing hard.

“Mhm?” Millie turned to him with sleepy gray-green eyes, their tight black dress wrinkled around their waist.

“You know who I am,” he said. “Guildmaster of the lost guild. Master of secrets, assassins, and thieves.” Embarrassment crept up his neck, followed by annoyance at himself. The great Dimir mastermind couldn’t feel embarrassment! It was shameful! Still, he felt unbearably warm as he spoke. “Why… Why do you remain with me?”

“I couldn’t get away from you if I tried, Zava,” Millie teased. When he didn’t laugh, Millie tilted their head at him. “You’re serious. Ah.” They stepped closer, and their perfume enveloped Lazav’s senses. “I’ve heard all the rumors. I know what the Dimir do.” You don’t know the half of it. “You’ve always treated me well. And…” Millie placed a dainty hand on his chest, their other hand cupping his cheek. “I love you. That’s all there is to it.”

I love you. The words were like warm sunlight on his very being. It felt… unbelievable, that someone like Millie could love someone like him.

Lazav kissed Millie’s forehead, and that strange tug filled him again. He recognized that feeling now. Love.

“I love you, too,” he murmured. “My strange girl.”

[miagwynwrites]

BZ Boys reaction: they give you their coat

A/N: Thank you to @wh0sthe5pecial0ne for helping me with the last scenario thank you Emmie 💕💕 I actually wanted to write this after our Kyungho convo and I’ve been wanting to write for BZ Boys anyway so thank you for putting the bug in my head. Also also Taewoong has a lovely bottom ~ 🦬

Taewoong: “that was a lovely dinner Taewoong.” You spoke softly as the two of you walked hand in hand down the street. Passing all the shops and streetlights while other people were out as well. You shivered a bit feeling the night chill go through you. Taewoong stopped walking. “You should’ve dressed warmer love.” He said taking his jacket off. You blushed as he wrapped his jacket around your shoulders and held you closer to him. His lips gently kissed your cheek causing you to giggle. “I just wanted to look cute for you. Didn’t think it’d be so cold. Thank you Taewoong.”

Bon: “this restaurant is so beautiful.” You gasped at the high ceilings and all the light fixtures that made this feel like some place in Paris. The soft glow that reflected off the walls made the atmosphere very calming and you were in awe. “They have excellent taste here babe. The food is delicious.” Wonho said taking off his jacket. It was date night and he was dressed in an all black suit to match your dress. Taking off his peacoat he placed it over your legs before sitting himself at the other end of the table. “Thank you Wonho you’re such a gentlemen.” You said smiling warmly at him. He smiled back and you two talked over the menu.

Hamin: you sat in the backseat of the car while your boyfriend Hamin was out calling a tow truck. You could hear his voice go in and out as if he was pacing. You watched his figure in the window, his hands thrown up and his voice raise as if he was arguing with the person on the other end. You pulled you jacket tighter around you and then heard the back door open and Hamin quickly settled in next to you. He let out a frustrated sigh. “It’s going to be awhile before someone can come out here, especially with all the snow.” You gave him a small smile showing you understood and he took his jacket off and put it over you. “I’m just glad there was a blanket in the back. It’s very cold.” Hamin pulled you into him covering his legs with the blanket so you could share body heat. “Hang in there love. Someone will come for us.”

Seunghyun: you and Seunghyun were walking down the street mostly window shopping, talking and laughing when a car sped down the road going through a puddle causing water to shoot up and splash all over you. Seunghyun tried to cover you in time but it was too late you were soaked. You could’ve laughed when Seunghyun joked that you looked like a wet rat but your day was ruined. “As you’ll be okay c’mon.��� Seunghyun led you to an alley and took his jacket off holding it in front of you. “Take off your clothes.” You gasped, eyes wide. “Excuse me? Are you crazy?” Seunghyun smirked. “This is not the time to have dirty thoughts y/n. You don’t want to walk home in wet clothes do you? Take them off and wear my jacket, it’s long enough to cover you until we can get home and get you in some warm clothes. Come on silly hurry up.” You rolled your eyes and begun to laugh out of embarrassment.

Double D: you were at a friends wedding with your boyfriend as a date. It was a spring wedding but it was still a bit chilly out. It was held outside and there was flowers of all colors and the decorations were so pretty and the sun was out and everything felt so springy. You and Donghwan sat towards the front, you shivered a bit as a cold wind blow around the area blowing some of the table cloths around. Donghwan noticed and draped his jacket over your shoulders fixing it to cover the exposed skin and pulled your hair out from under the jacket and laid it over the front of you. You smiled at him a gave him a quick kiss on the lips. “Thanks, I thought it would be a little warm out since the sun is out.”

I wanted gifs but a lot of them are the members together and not separate gifs and the separate gifs I did find are..well extra lol. BUT I WANTED GIFS AND IF THEY GET PEOPLE TO READ MY THINGY THEN SO BE IT LOL. They’re so chaotic I found them like two years ago on the clock app and I didn’t know who they were until later. No but they’re all so very cute Taewoong is bofie and skskskkks ‘Close Your Eyes’ slaps both song and choreo I highly recommend :)

[alice-m00n]

“I wonder what that person is doing today…” he mused, tapping his pen against the desk. “On a date maybe?” 

Haise’s eyes widened.  

No! What is he thinking? 

He quickly shook his head to try to shake those ponderings from his thoughts. 

There are other things that should be on his mind- he shouldn’t be concerned about the waitress from :Re! And it’s certainly none of his business if such a beautiful woman decided to go on a date with someone on the most romantic day of the year! 

Although…if she wasn’t, then how was she spending the day? With friends? Maybe dinner with her family? Would it be too weird if he asked her that the next time he went to the cafe? 

… 

Yeah, that might be weird, even for him. 

He let out a huge sigh.

He tapped his pen again. 

It’s probably for the best that he didn’t ever work up the courage to ask her if she wanted to join the Chateau's Christmas party this year; he wouldn’t want Juuzou or any of the Quinx to share any embarrassing stories about him. 

~~~ 

A snowflake fell down on his nose, despite the umbrella that Haise was holding over him. 

It’s cold! 

Haise sighed, to see his breath against the chilly January air. He could feel the chill all the way to his bones even through his gloves. On days like this, it’s pretty tough to patrol and do outside work. And this won’t even be the worst of the cold since it’s only a week into the new year. It’ll probably still be snowing pretty heavily well into the next month.

Should he stop to get something warm to drink before heading back to the office?

The image of the waitress flashed in his mind again. 

 No, no, no! 

He honestly just wanted a cup of coffee! Even though there were coffee shops that were closer on his way back to the CCG headquarters, it wouldn’t be the end of the world if he just walked a little bit further out to go to :Re! It’s just because he wanted his favorite cup of coffee, that’s all- 

“Oh, Sensei.” He turned to see the woman of his thoughts right in front of him. She was dressed warmly in a coat, holding onto an umbrella to block the falling snow and paper brown bag. “Happy New Year.”

“H-Happy New Year! Please take care of me this year as well,” he greeted, bowing quickly so she couldn’t immediately see the embarrassment on his face.  

“Likewise,” she replied, bowing slightly in return, “Are you heading to the cafe?” 

“Yes!” 

“Then shall we walk together?”

He couldn’t help but beam in joy, “Gladly!” 

As they walked, he made sure to match her pace and did his best to make sure that their umbrellas didn’t bump against each other. They were still a good 10 minutes away from the coffee shop. 

Maybe now would be a good time to bring up how she spent Christmas? Or is there a better way to ease into that topic? If he does this right then maybe he could really casually figure out if she was seeing someone-

“Were you on a Christmas date with someone?” 

His ears immediately turned red. 

Why! Why did he say that! Now she’s gonna think that he’s even weirder and just when he thought that they’ve moved on from when he cried after drinking her coffee! 

She turned towards him with a slightly confused look on her face, “I’m sorry, did you say something?” 

Thank god she didn’t hear that! 

“U-Um, not really!” 

“Is that so?” Maybe he should’ve asked her about her Christmas, ah, why didn’t he do that?”  “How was your Christmas, Sensei?” 

“I had some people over for a Christmas party,” he answered. Now he could ask her without it being weird. “What about you? Did you spend it with anyone?”

“Not really, I was working at the cafe with my brother as always.”

“Is that so?”

“You never know when someone needs a cup of coffee.”  

“That is true.” 

In his mind, he signed out in relief. 

So she wasn’t with anyone this Christmas. Maybe if she’s free, he can ask her if she’ll come by and spend the next Christmas with him?

[synthetickitsune]

ONEWE Reaction: Wearing their clothes

Yonghoon

Absolutely melts as soon as he sees you

He likes wearing loose-fitting clothes so you’d look even smaller in them which he’d find adorable

Protectiveness x100, you’d look so tiny he’d just feel like he needs to protect you from the world and take care of you

Possessiveness x100, he’d feel a certain pride, similar to if he left some marks on your body and it’d make him feel good that anyone can see you’re his and he’d show you off too

At the same time, if you were wearing his shirt or hoodie and your shorts, he wouldn’t stand the thought of anyone seeing you like that, since it might seem you only have the shirt on and he doesn’t want to know what kind of images that would create in the minds of the younger members

His clinginess and affection would be to the max, he needs to touch you constantly, prefers if you stay pressed into his side or his chest and he can hold you

He just really loves it when you wear any kind of top that’s his, but if he’s ever in a really bad mood, try putting on his pants and see how he dies laughing

If you didn’t wear his clothes enough, he’d totally make you either by whining and sulking or acting cute

When it’s cold, he carries a spare hoodie with him just so he can give it to you if you were cold, he wouldn’t even scold you that you didn’t dress warmly if you told him you only dressed lightly to have an excuse to take his clothes

“Thanks again,” you smiled sheepishly at him, water still dripping down from your hair. The weather had betrayed you and the clear blue skies turned into a dark hell of rain and cold wind in a flash. After a quick consideration, you called your boyfriend and he agreed that since their dorm was much closer than your home, he’d let you sleep over. Yonghoon was over the moon with the vision of holding you close the whole night.

“I told you, it’s nothing. Now take these and go shower before you catch a cold,” he pushed you towards the bathroom, but not without a light peck to your lips.

You felt much better after you’ve showered with hot water and sigh contently as you stepped out. Immediately your eyes fell on the clothes your boyfriend gave you to change into and shook your head with a smile. Cheeky as he is, he gave you his own shirt and boxers to wear despite having some of your spare clothing in his dresser. Whatever, it’s not like you haven’t been waiting for the opportunity to wear his clothes.

You slipped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind you, jumping when you heard someone gasp down the hall. You turned, only to see your boyfriend with the widest smile on his lips. You gave him an unimpressed look but it was hard not to imitate his smile. 

“You’re so cute, you’re just perfect,” he cooed, urging you to come closer. You did and soon you were pressed against his body, his lips on yours. “You look so small, what am I going to do with you?”

“Well, maybe if you bought something that fits you better, I wouldn’t be drowning in the shirt,” you chuckled. His excitement was too cute. 

“Ah, but really, how am I supposed to just sleep next to you like this,” he whined, his touch suddenly more adventurous, more demanding.

“You should’ve thought about that before,” you teased, “Besides the boys will be home soon so don’t get any ideas.” Just mentioning it was enough to make him suddenly drag you into his room. You looked at him, confused.

“No one else is seeing you like this, it looks like you have just the shirt on and you can’t trust young guys to control themselves. Not when you’re so adorable,” he huffed and pouted. You laughed at him, poking his cheek.

“I’m yours, Yonghoonie, even if they ogled me all they wanted, nothing would change about that,” you cuddled closer to him, “But alright, I will stay locked in your room, completely at your mercy.” He groaned at your teasing, making you smirk. You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

Harin

Giddy like a kid on Christmas day, absolutely loves it

Probably picks you up and spins you around the first time he sees you wearing his clothes because you’re too cute

And even after it’s become something of an usual occurrence, his heart still melts because it just makes him feel so loved

Even if he gets jealous sometimes, even because of small things that he misunderstood, you wearing his clothes would just stop him from feeling that way since you’re clearly marked as his (and also the fact that you keep telling everyone how the clothes smell like him and the bright smile you wear while saying it)

When you’re sad, he’d wrap you in his blue cloak and pretend to be your own personal superhero with the mission to make you feel better 

Lowkey shows you off to everyone so that especially the members see how much you love him and that you’re his, wearing his clothes

Protective - he’d hover over you whatever you were doing because you look tiny and he wants to protect you but also because you’re a little clumsy and you could get his clothes dirty

Always has the most random cute comparisons ready - you wear his pjs, he say you look like a baby sloth, you wear his hoodie, suddenly you’re a panda

Cuddles all day

Loves when you wear his sleeveless shirts or tank tops (but only when you’re home alone) because then he can easily slip his hands inside the sleeve holes and touch your bare skin

If you also like to work out with him, definitely will get you some couple gym wear

“Harin? Do you mind if I borrow some pants?” you called from the kitchen. He could hear some noise that sounded just a little too much like liquid spilling all over the place just a second earlier, some shuffling about and finally the question he was expecting came.

“Have you cleaned up already?” he yelled back, amusement obvious in his voice. 

“Working on it,” you grumbled, making him chuckle. He paused the game he was playing and strolled into the kitchen, only to see spilled milk on every possible surface. He quirked a brow at you.

“Now, how did this happen?” he laughed as you pouted at him. Your leggings were all dark, soaked with the liquid. It was a pathetic sight to see you clean like that.

“I don’t know, I was just pouring the milk and my hand cramped,” you whined, getting up to squeeze the sponge into the sink.

“Aw, my poor baby,” he cooed, coming up behind you, “Go change and I will finish here, okay?” You pecked his cheek happily and ran into his room to change.

You borrowed his comfy sweatpants and tied the string tightly so they don’t keep falling down from your hips. You checked yourself out in the mirror and found you actually rather like the look. Stepping out again, you found Harin almost finished with the cleaning so you joined him and soon you were sitting next to him and watching him play his game.

Everything was peaceful until he finished his level and pushed himself further from the computer. His hand was on your thigh the next moment and his eyes ran up and down your body. You giggled, pushing his shoulder a little.

“What is it?” you asked. It wasn’t the first time he saw you in his clothes so his reaction surprised you. 

“Nothing, you’re just cute! You look like some kind of dancer,” he laughed.

“Dancer?” you shook your head, not comprehending your lovesick boyfriend.

“Yeah! Like the dancers in the dance practice videos, they always wear pants like this,” he explained and made you stand up. Now that you thought about it, it really would be quite comfy to dance in his pants since they were pretty loose on you.

“Dance off?” you suggested suddenly. Being the team’s dance machine, how could he refuse?

By the time the rest of the boys arrived into the dorm, you were both sweaty and panting, your hands around his neck and his on your hips as you dorkily danced to whatever came on shuffle. You’ll never live down the teasing, but you were happy and that was all that mattered.

Kanghyun

Chill about it most of the time but sometimes it just suddenly hits him that you’re wearing his clothes and then he gets shy and his ears turn red

Tries to hide how much it affects him but you always quickly notice the lingering soft gazes on your figure and the glares he gives the other boys if they tease you

But he might tease you himself, complaining that he was about to wear the hoodie you stole

His heart would break if you were to take it off though

You wearing his clothes would make him softer, he’d feel grateful that you like him so much that even just wearing his clothes makes you happier and calms you down

He lets you get away with stealing his clothes to wear when you can’t be together but only after discussion because it’s still his clothes and he doesn’t want to have to search for his clothes only to realize you’ve borrowed it

It’s somehow comforting to him too when you wear his clothes if you’re apart, like you still have some physical bond between you

And he also loves when you return the clothes you’ve borrowed because they don’t smell like him anymore - no, they smell like you now and he can enjoy that comfort now

If you yourself have any oversized clothes that would fit him, he might also borrow it and then pretend that you just accidentally left it at his place

The peak comfort is when you’re spending the evening together reading or watching movies and you’re wearing exactly what he’s wearing - he got identical pair of clothing just for this purpose

Loves it if you two share accessories with each other because it’s pretty lowkey but just as meaningful - also a sucker for couple necklaces or rings

“See? I’m totally fine, not a scratch on me - and look, the car is also fine,” you smile into the camera before shifting your phone to show that the vehicle also survived the journey, “So are you proud of me or what?” You hold the phone properly again and see the exasperated look Kanghyun is giving you.

“Sure, y/n,” he sighs but smiles, overall just happy that you arrived safely, “So is anyone home yet?”

You shake your head and finally go inside, showing him around the empty house. It’s the second time he’s there, you wonder, and this time he can at least actually look around without people swarming around him and questioning him without a break.

“You don’t have to show me, I trust you,” he complains and you laugh at him. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you just want to watch me,” you tease as you let the camera capture you again once you reach your room and plop down on the bed. 

“And what if I do?” he mumbles under his breath, eyes shifting from the screen to his guitar. It seems he’s still set on pretending he can focus on practicing. You give him a little smile.

“I’ll miss you too, Hyunie. But it’s only for a few days,” you try to reassure him. He only gives a short hum and picks at the strings of his guitar. You sigh and let your phone sit on the bed while you reach inside your bag. You’re out of the frame so your boyfriend can’t see what you’re putting on. And it takes him a while to register after you lay back down again too. But it’s fine, because you see the exact moment it clicks in his brain and he realizes what you’re wearing.

His eyes widen and his lips part, cheeks blushing softly. He stays speechless, so you giggle at how cute he’s being and pull the hoodie - his hoodie - higher, cuddling into it. He can’t see it, but you inhale and you’re enveloped by his reassuring scent.

“Ah, so that’s where it went,” he says finally, struggling and failing to look upset. Instead it’s very obvious that he’s biting back a smile.

“I hope you don’t mind, I just didn’t know how I’d handle dealing with my family all alone,” you admit and give him a cute wink. His struggles to look unfazed all fail and he finally sets his guitar down, instead focusing solely on you.

“But you won’t be alone. I promise we can call everyday, or at least as often as possible,” he promises and fumbles with his phone, which makes you suspicious.

“Hyunie, you’re not taking screenshots, are you?” you laugh as he shakes his head, obviously doing the exact opposite of his answer, “Okay, okay, it’s fine, but only because I miss you already and you’re cute.”

“I miss you too,” he smiles a little, “Just come back soon, alright?”

Dongmyeong

Becomes an actual sun when he sees you in his clothes, jumps around and makes you twirl around so he can appreciate you from all sides and take pictures of you

Clingy x100, he just has to be hugging you or at least have an arm around your waist

Wants the guys to see you and show them how lucky he is that he has such a cute s/o

But also doesn’t let them get too close because now you’re officially his baby and are only allowed to pay attention to him

Also protective because his clothes are just a little too big for you so if you’ve borrowed his sweats, he’ll follow you around to make sure you don’t accidentally trip

When he sees you wearing his clothes, he feels super loved and happy because he feels like he’s protecting you

Isn’t able to concentrate on anything else, he’s mesmerized by you and wonders what he’s done that he deserves you

It also makes him a little shy though, he’ll keep whining why are you so cute and distracting

If you’re staying over at his place, you have to wear his clothes to sleep, if he’s staying over at your place, he has to wear your clothes to sleep - that’s the rule

Loves to wrap his scarf around you in winter because 1) you never wear yours and he wants to make sure you don’t get sick, and because 2) he then gets to watch you try sneakily sniff his scarf and smile because it smells like him

Also it’s fine because you never wear your scarf and he always forgets to take a hat so you both carry spares with you and share with each other

He keeps one of your giant hoodies in his dresser for days when he feels down because it helps him a little bit

“See, dummy, I told you it’s gonna be cold,” he scolds with a pout when you finally give up your attempts to stop the shivering with each blow of the freezing wind.

“I know, but it wasn’t this cold in the morning,” you give him an apologetic look and squeeze his hand, “And it’s not my fault that the cafe is closed today.” He seems to agree with that but doesn’t look any happier. In fact, it seems that there’s something else bothering him as well.

“What’s going on?” you nudge him lightly with your shoulder. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“I should’ve reminded you. Look at you, you don’t even have a hat or scarf, you must be freezing,” he worried aloud, eyes lowered to the ground.

“Hey, I’m not a child. I’m at fault here for being stupid, not you,” you argue with a smile, “And it’s not like I’m dying, okay? It’s not that bad when the wind’s still.”

But alas, the wind just wouldn’t stop so you keep shivering and pressing against Dongmyeong for warmth even though there are many layers of clothing between you. Suddenly he sighs, visibly annoyed, and mutters something under his breath.

He begins to take off his scarf but you wouldn’t allow it, taking his hand and stepping in front of him.

“No, you’re not doing that - what if you get sick? You need to protect your throat and voice,” you protest but he pouts harder at you.

“But I can’t have you getting sick either, can I? I wouldn’t be able to see you then,” he whines, struggling against your hold until he stops. A bright smile blooms on his lips. “Come closer, I have an idea.”

You give him a look but do as he told you. He unwraps his scarf a little more, adjusts it on his neck and then turns to you and wraps the loose end around your neck. You stand frozen for a few seconds, processing what just happened. He squeezes your cheeks and gives your nose a peck.

“You’re so cute now,” he giggles, pulling you even closer to his side. You feel your cheeks heat up despite the cold.

“Honestly, I think this is the most adorable thing you’ve ever done, Myeongie,” you manage to say when you finally snap out of it. Turning to look at him, you chuckle too. Both of your faces are tinted pink, almost the same shade as the scarf you’re sharing.

“Well, at least now I know you’re not gonna run away,” he mumbles, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you even closer.

“As I would ever,” you roll your eyes.

CyA

Almost has a heart attack the first time he sees you in his clothes because he always thought it would be no big deal, it’s just what couples do but he was wrong and he feels so many emotions

He doesn’t want to admit it’s his ultimate weakness when you’re wearing his clothes but he just gives himself away as soon as he sees you

Longing gazes, heart eyes, not to mention all the skinship… but he won’t admit that he’s like that because he’s melting on the inside

A tiny bit possessive - as soon as anyone gets too close to you, he comes over and wraps you in his arms, head on your shoulder and asks if his clothes are comfy lowkey flexes that you love wearing his clothes

Has an inner conflict of whether he wants to parade you around the dorms to show everyone how cute you are or hide you in his room because you’re adorable and he wants you all for himself

A shy sweetheart that tries to be sneaky despite checking you out quite obviously - it just makes him feel so many things when you wear his clothes that he doesn’t know what to do

Might either cling to you everywhere you go, be extremely cuddly or even needy, depending on his overall mood

Absolutely loves when you wear his hoodies and sweaters because then you have sweater paws and his heart can’t handle it - seriously, looking like that, you could make him do anything for you

But he also loves to steal your clothes because it’s cute and you also melt seeing him like that

Has hundreds of photos of you in his clothes saved, probably has one set as his wallpaper

Asks what clothes are the comfiest for you and then maybe goes and buys some to encourage you to wear his clothes more often

Jokes on him though because you do and it distracts him from work

Feels like he’s in heaven when you sit on his lap and game with him wearing all his clothes, that’s his ultimate couple goals

“Hey, y/n, I just finished this song and I was wondering about your opin-” the words get stuck in his throat as you come into the room wearing leggings, but that’s not the point, the point is you’re wearing his shirt. You see him struggle, see the way his eyes shift all around the room just to always take a long look at you, and laugh.

“I’m sorry, I just managed to get really wet doing the dishes so I borrowed this. I hope you don’t mind?” you check with him, a little late but better than never. He shakes his head and turns back to the computer screen, clearing his throat.

“No, it’s fine. It’s totally fine,” he assures you, the tips of his ear turning pink. You chuckle at his reaction and walk over to him. You wrap your hands around his shoulders and rest your chin on top of his head since the position allows it.

“I’m glad. Anyway, you wanted to show me something?” you ask and feel him nod under you.

“Yeah, but it’s better if you sit down. I don’t want you to get uncomfortable,” he smiles and shyly pats his thighs - carefully, like he hesitates and doesn’t actually want you to notice. But you did and soon you’re sitting on his lap. He seems happy, all the more so when you tangle your fingers into his hair and brush it as he leans his head on your shoulder to show you the lyrics he wrote.

"I think it's wonderful, baby! I really love this one, I can't wait to hear the finished song," you praise when he's finished and looking at you with those bright eyes.

"Thanks," he smiles, kissing up your shoulder. He doesn't stop with the affection, however, his hands dropping the papers and wrapping around your waist instead. They don't stay there long though as he caresses your sides.

"Cuddly, aren't you?" you tease with a smile, kissing right under his eye.

"Maybe," he admits, "But it's your fault, you're cute." He buries his face into your neck, sucking a few marks on your skin. You hum, your own hand running up and down his neck, gently pulling on his hair.

"But really, what's gotten into you?" you laugh when he pulls away to kiss your lips.

"Nothing, I'm just happy you're here," he murmurs, avoiding your gaze. You think back to when this change happened and smirk. You don’t say anything, afraid that if you tease him too much, he’d get shy. And you’re enjoying his attention too much to risk that.

[lilyofthestyx]

I saw request we’re open for RE8. Could I please have a fem! reader who tries to get rid of Ethan Winters because he keeps causing distress to her wife, Alcina? Please and thank you.

yes. yes you most certainly can have this.

i have been DYING to write about some alcina x fem!reader for the sole reason being that i have NEVER questioned my sexuality so hard since this damn game came out so yeah.

ps: wrote this in first person hope that's okay!

pps: there is some major plot deviation because.... i felt like it. idk. it fit??

DISCLAIMER: I do not claim to own Resident Evil or its characters or plot. CAPCOM please don't come for me.

here you go love >:)

word count: 1.57k

"Girls!" I call, closing the door behind me. "My darlings, I'm home!" Shifting the grip on the parcel of items from the village, I look around.

Usually one of the girls would've answered by now. Bela is usually here to greet me.

She's probably with her mother.

I shrug off my fur coat, handing it to one of the maids. She takes it and lays it over the back of a chair. I can tell by the large, gnarled scar on her forearm who she is "Marienna," I mumble, staring up the stairway. "...where're the girls?"

Marienna's face pales as she stares back at me. Her mouth opens and closes like a trout. "Well?" I snap, "D'you know where they are or-?!"

A crash resounds down the hallway. Alcina's voice tears from her bedroom, followed by a shuddering sob.

I'm hurrying up the stairs in seconds, abandoning the parcel. My body collides with the door- forcing it open.

Our bedroom is destroyed- the vanity broken to pieces. Alcina's soft hands cling to the golden wood, thumb rubbing against the varnish. Slowly, her eyes trail up to me. A smile nearly as broken as the vanity crosses her painted lips. "...I loved this damned mirror," she mumbles, eyes turning down to the broken pieces again.

"What happened, darling?" I coo, stepping over the pieces to stand beside her. My hand on her shoulder, I turn her face gently towards mine. Tears are streaming down her face- leaving jagged streaks of mascara. "Are you alright? What happen-"

Alcina's body tenses under my touch. Trembling, her grip tightens on the wood. It cracks before being wrenching in twain in her hands. "It was that stupid manthing!" She hisses, standing back up to her full height.

"...what 'manthing'?" I ask, "Your brother?"

Alcina ignores me, leaning back down to pluck one of the larger fragments before throwing it across the room. "He laid his filthy paws on our daughters!"

My mind races as it struggles to understand what the hell is happening.

Manthing.

It's not Heisenberg. He'd never lay a finger on the girls.

Some brutish village slug- that's got to be it.

But why? Why on earth would they...?

It doesn't matter.

As Alcina leans down to grab another bit, I grab her hand. "...are... are the girls okay? Where are they?"

A shuddering sigh passes her lips. "...they're all together," she whispers, wiping tears from her face hastily. "Bela... she was... that disgusting beast, he nearly killed her!"

"What?" I mutter, eyebrows drawing together as I step back. "...what... well is she okay? What happened? Is she going to be alright?!"

Alcina sighs again. "...she'll be alright," her hand wraps around mine gently. "Her sisters found her. Brought her to me."

"Where is she now?," I ask, tightening my grip around her finger. "My baby girl... where...?"

Alcina smiles warmly, getting down onto one knee. Her fingers brush back the hair from my eyes. Tears fall quickly down my face as I realize what could've happened if Cassandra and Daniela weren't nearby. "She's with her sisters," she answers gently. "Resting... waiting for her mother to get back with the flowers and silk from the village."

A cold laugh passes my lips before I sniffle. "...her mother should've been there. Should've never left."

Alcina's face tightens. "You can't blame yourself, darling," she mumbles, turning my chin up so I can face her. "No one knew this... Ethan Winters... would be so hideously vindictive."

I nod slowly, wiping the tears from my face. "...can I see her?"

"Of course, my love," she says, leaning in to press her lips to my cheek. "Of course."

The two of us walk down the halls to the center of the house. 'Safest place for her' Alcina had told me.

She had spoken to me the entire way over here, trying to get me out of my own head.

Bless my beloved wife for trying.

But that name. It just keeps buzzing around my mind.

Images of my hands, covered in thick blood, gripping the handle of a sickle play through my head. The blade going through the jugular of this 'Ethan Winters' and popping out the other side. Him desperate for air, choking on his own hot blood, as he watches me loom over him.

His last words will be for mercy.

His last view will be my blade.

My breath is bated as I watch him stalk through the darkness of the courtyard. In the moonlight, I can see is head is down, eyes wary as he keeps a fair grip on his pistol. The cool air lets me see him regulating his breathing- keeping him steady, keeping his pistol steady.

He's experienced.

My grip on my own weapon tightens as he stops in the gazebo. His eyes narrow as he turns around, his pistol raised. I watch in mild amusement as he whirls around, looking for something to shoot.

He's experienced, yes, but still not experienced enough.

I tug the fabric around my face higher along the bridge of my nose. Gripping my sickle, I balance on the balls of my feet.

Ethan finally relaxes, dropping his arms with his back to me.

A small smile creeps along my lips under the mask. A foolish move made by an even more foolish man.

My body slides underneath the stone railings for the stairs leading into the center of the courtyard. Untucking one of the smaller knives from my belt, I pinch it between two fingers and flick my wrist forward.

The knife goes flying- landing right between Ethan's shoulder blades. A guttural yell comes from him as he spins around to face me. In a blink, I'm up in front of him, nose brushing against his.

I can see the fear in his eyes.

I can't help my smile growing beneath the dark fabric.

Ethan raises his hand, pistol in his palm. With a tut of my lips, I shake my head and stab his hand through with my sickle. "...no, no," I mumble as he continues to scream and thrash against my hold. "There'll be none of that, I'm afraid, Mister Winters."

His teeth gritted, he hisses as my sickle is pulled from the inner part of his wrist. A bitter laugh bubbles up from my gut as he stumbles back onto the floor of the gazebo, now holding the pistol in his shaky left hand. "You can't be serious!" I giggle as Ethan pulls the trigger.

A wet squelch hits my ears as the bullet tears into my stomach. I sigh dramatically, looking down at the gushing hole in my dress. "You didn't think I was human- did you?" I ask, twirling the sickle in my hand.

"Wh- what?" Ethan mutters, eyes fixated on the bullet wound in my torso.

"I'm not," I continue, stepping closer to him as he tries to back away. Another gunshot echoes through the courtyard- the bullet landing in my left shoulder. "Not entirely, anyways."

"What the hell are you?!" Ethan yells, firing three more shots. One in the crook of my neck, one just barely grazing my temple, one lodging itself in my hip.

My jaw tightens as I hurry forward, grabbing him by the collar and throwing him back into the center of the gazebo. "I!" I snap, grabbing him again and gripping his wrist. "I... am the mother of the girl you almost killed!"

I pull another knife out of my belt. Trailing it down his lips, I smile. "And the wife... to a woman scorned." With a single swing, the knife digs into the flesh of his palm and nails it to the gazebo.

Ethan yells in pain. As I step back, his other fist cracks across my face. I stumble back. Grabbing at my cheek, I chuckle darkly. "Oh, Ethan," I coo coyly, grabbing my sickle. "You really shouldn't have done that."

I swing and watch with what could only be described as 'glee' as the blade pierces his throat. Covered in blood, the blade glistens crimson in the pale moonlight. Ethan's choked pleas are drowned out by my laughter.

"Why?" is the only word able to leave his lips without being smothered in a gush of blood.

"Because, Mister Winters," I hum, my nose brushing against his as I watch the life in his eyes flicker. "You should never have touched my family."

BONUS ENDING:

"What is that delicious smell?"

I turn around to see Alcina bending down to peek outside. A smile crosses my lips as I gesture to the mutilated corpse with the end of my sickle. "Dinner, my love," I hum, wiping off the blade with the fabric I had used for a mask. "Sorry it's not the cleanest."

Alcina scoffs and waves me off. "It's fine, _________. I'll just go let the girls know their mother brought dinner...," she pauses, eyes flicking over the gushing body. "...who was that? He smells... familiar."

"Just Ethan Winters," I answer nonchalantly.

"...y-you..." Alcina stammers, eyebrows weaving together and lips pursing. "You... when did you-?"

"He must've been tired," I continue with a small smile. "He was not nearly as difficult a kill as I thought he'd be."

"...I'll... I'll be going now."

"Okay, love," I chirp, "I'll drag him in in a second. Love you!"

Alcina's eyes are still wide, mouth slightly agape as she steps away from the doorway. "...love you too... darling."

can you tell i had a lot of fun with this?

yeah. because i did.

i hope you enjoyed! writing lady d is so much freaking fun i kid you not.

big vampy lady make brain go brr

[an-inspired-eternity]

vincent ff7

favorite thing about them: i love this stupid gay vampire so much you don’t understand. his entire aura. his voice is deeper than the mariana trench. he’s paler than i am. he genuinely thought sleeping in a coffin was a good idea.

but also to actually answer i do love that like. he gets talked into joining the party and ends up stuck with them for life. everytime this loser goes to isolate himself none of them will let him and when they go to pull him into whatever they’re doing he’ll huff and act like he doesn’t wanna get involved but he still goes along with it anyway

least favorite thing about them: ..can i just say dirge of cerberus and call it a day? no? okay well i think lucrecia was um.. maybe Not Worth The Trouble He Went Through? like hojo is 100% the main guy to blame here but lucrecia was Not helping. vince ily but you did not deserve to suffer as much as you did because of you being in love with her 😭

favorite line: ngl i don’t actually remember a lot of his lines, but i do love what he says if you bring him with you for the final confrontation against hojo in og which is “I was wrong.. The one that should’ve slept.. was you, Hojo!” in reference to the fact that vincent blamed himself for what happened to lucrecia and locked himself away in the coffin and tormented himself over it

brotp: yuffie and vincent having a weird friendship is Great but i also do think cloud and vincent have a lot in common that they could bond over that to my knowledge is not talked about as much

otp: i love valenwind cid and vince are yuffie’s weird gay uncles/dads (either is accurate) i’m so excited to see these dorks in ff7r. i don’t have a ton of opinions on them past that but i Love the energy

notp: stop shipping yuffie with vincent stop shipping yuffie with vincent stop shipping yuffie with vincent stop shipping yuffie with vincent st

(for the uninformed, yuffie is 16 and vincent is, even ignoring the fact this man was asleep in a coffin for three decades, in his late 20s at the youngest. ENOUGH)

random headcanon: vincent goes full mama bird when they’re in cold areas and uses his cape as a blanket for the rest of the party bc holy shit aint none of these bitches dressed for the weather, the most warmly dressed people other than vincent are probably cloud and barret and even then they got their arms out. 

unpopular opinion: idk if this is an unpopular opinion but as stated above i do feel like vincent does actually like spending time with the party. but he’s also incredibly emotionally constipated about it and doesn’t wanna admit it or open up to them fully for. whichever reasons. probably a mix of not feeling like he deserves it and worrying if he gets too attached he’ll lose them too (which is a sad thing to talk about for this category but i imagine that is probably part of it). but the tldr is that vincent is very much part of the found family here and even if he doesn’t outright admit it he does like spending time with them, thank you for coming to my ted talk

song i associate with them: ...so vincent has a very specific energy when it comes to songs i associate with him, for which we must go back to the early 2000s: animal i have become by three days grace (which. looking that up has caused me to learn that it and dirge of cerberus released in the same year. holy shit)

favorite photo of them: look at the way this man sits and tell me he is straight. i dare you. lucrecia rejected him for hojo and he swore off women forever because of it

[marvelous-harry]

for the blurb night, can you write something about mean dom!h? If you don't mind of course

"And here are your cards for the rooms, have a lovely stay!" the perky hotel assistant said as they held out the cards to us both.

"Thank you, I'm sure we will. You have a good day," Harry said warmly and politely as he took both cards and pocketed them. He gripped his suitcase and gestured towards the lifts.

Giving the hotel person a smile, I grabbed my own suitcase and started rolling it over, with him following closely behind. Getting into the lift, I shivered at the look Harry gave me as the door closed behind him. He hit the button for our floor before walking over.

Standing right in front of me, he put his hands on the railing that was on the wall - boxing me in. I couldn't help the way my pulse sped up.

He planted a very soft kiss on my cheek before leaning in closer and whispering into my ear. "I'm going to fucking ruin you," and then he gave me a pat on the cheek.

It took all my willpower to not open my mouth and beg for his forgiveness, to tell him how sorry I was for being so touchy on the plane, and then talking back to him.

Luckily no one else called on the lift as we went up and we were able to get to our floor without bumping into anyone else and since Harry had booked a suite on its own floor no one would be bothering us in the hall either. Or would hear us..

Harry unlocked the door and held it open for me. Walking inside, I looked around in awe at how pretty it was. Hearing the door close and get locked I let go of my suitcase and turned to look at Harry while backing away from him.

"It's pretty isn't it?" He asked as he walked over slowly.

I nodded and gave him a quick smile, I bumped into the desk in the room.

"Looks like you've run out of room," he smirked as he reached out and ran a hand down my side. "You can speak now but you should be very careful about what you say," he said as he grabbed a fistful of my hair.

I didn't say anything.

"Now I know it was stupid for me to think that you would be able to control yourself on such a long flight. There you were bored out of your mind, a cock right next to you," he mused while untying my wrap-around dress.

"I should've remembered how much of a slut you are. I won't forget next time. Next time I'll fill you up with a plug and a dildo so you won't show everyone how desperate for a fuck you are," Harry continued on as he stroked his hand down my chest, giving my boob a good, hard squeeze before slapping my pussy.

Hissing, I shifted on my feet at the sting and felt my eyes welling up with tears.

"But not only were you a desperate little slut touching me and begging me to fuck you in the airplane bathroom for everyone to hear, you talked back to me when I said no," Harry yanked my head back.

"I'm sorry," I cried out, grasping onto the edge of the desk tightly.

Harry pushed my panties down and I blushed - knowing they had to be pretty wet by now. "Daddy, please," I whimpered and moved my feet a bit further apart.

Harry teased a gentle hand over my throbbing clit. "You want Daddy to help you cum?" he asked, slowly moving his hand up and down.

Moaning loudly, I moved my hips down onto his hand. "Please, need to cum so bad," I begged.

Harry hummed as continued to bring me closer to my orgasm. "The problem is that you haven't earned it though," he said as he pulled his hand up to cup my jaw.

I stared at him as he let go of my hair and tightened his hold on my jaw. "Oh, you're not cumming for a long long time. I don't reward naughty sluts who don't listen," he leaned in close before spitting on my face.

Shuddering, I whimpered as I looked at him. I was even more turned on now.

Harry let go of me before turning me around and bending me over the desk. I blushed, even more, when I saw there was a mirror and I could see his spit on my face and the slight marks of his fingernails on my skin.

Hearing him opening his belt, I looked at him in the mirror and licked my lips as he pulled his cock out. "Daddy," I moaned and pushed my bum up further in the air.

Harry pushed the dress out of the way and smacked my bum several times. "Remember, you're not allowed to cum," he said as he eased his cock into my pussy. He grabbed onto my hips so tightly, I just knew it would bruise.

Moaning loudly as he slid in, I rested on my forearms as I stared at him. "Please, Daddy, please let me cum!" I begged as he started fucking me hard and fast right away, the desk was slamming up against the wall for each thrust and I knew I probably would have bruises on my hips later as well.

"Fucking getting me turned on a plane, fucking slut," he panted as he fucked me hard. "Going to fuck you so hard you'll feel me for days,"

It felt so fucking good when he would push all the way in.

Harry reached out and grabbed my hair again, making me arch my back. God, we looked obscene with the way I looked, my boobs jiggling with every thrust.

"Fuck," Harry groaned as he slammed in deep and cummed. He breathed quickly as he pulled out. He spun me around and used my dress to wipe his dick off before tucking himself away.

He fixed my dress just enough so I wouldn't be arrested for exposing myself before giving me a slap across the cheek. "Call down and ask for some extra towels. You've made a mess. You can come and warm my cock in your mouth after they've been delivered," he said as he grabbed a cold beer from the minibar. "then we can talk about your actual punishment," he smirked.

[ragingbookdragon]

Tonight You're Gonna Go Down In Flames, Just Like Jesse James

A Jason Todd x Reader Story

Word Count: 7.9K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst, Mentions of Blood and Violence

Author's Note: This is the series I did a week or so ago. I figured I'd combine it into one big document so no one had to go searching for all the parts. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

It was a horrible idea in the first place and yet, of all the bad decisions she’d made in her entire life, this one apparently was going to take first place. Of course, part of her told her to just chuck her feelings into the back of her mind and leave them there, but the longer she spent around him, the stronger they got. And regardless of how terrible her love life was—and to be completely honest, it was horrible—she was going to admit her feelings and accept whatever outcome came. What’s the worst he could say? No? No, she didn’t think he’d say that. He flirted with her all the time, called her doll, and complimented her on her reading habits—no one had ever done that.

***

She shifted the red roses into the crook of her elbow, free hand nervously smoothing down her pink sundress, discomfort running up and down her spine as she waited on the front porch of the imposing manor. She’d gone to his apartment earlier but after he hadn’t answered, she remembered that he’d once mentioned the manor as a secondary hangout, prompting her to go there after.

Inhaling sharply, she quickly took the flowers back into her hand when the door opened, and she smiled widely at the older man who stood before her. “Hello, you must be Mister Pennyworth.” she greeted warmly. “I’m (Y/N) (L/N), a friend of Jason’s. Is he here?” she raised the flowers and the gift box in her hand. “I’ve got something for him.”

The man smiled and stepped aside, letting her in. “Of course, Miss (Y/N), please allow me to fetch Master Jason.”

“Oh, you don’t have to call me—and he’s already gone,” she whispered. “Wow, he moves fast for an old man.” Her eyes drifted to the portrait above the hall table and she smiled at the faces of him and his brothers. They looked rather regal for the humorous stories he told her all the time. Footsteps drew her attention away and she turned, smiling at Jason as he walked towards her. He wore a surprised smile, but it was a smile, nonetheless.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” he asked and when she opened her mouth all she managed was a dumb, ‘uh…’ then she shoved the flowers in his face.

“These are for you.” She replied, face heating up as his fingers brushed hers when he took them.

Jason brought the bouquet of roses to his nose and inhaled. “Wow, they’re beautiful, (Y/N).” He gave her that smile that had her stomach fluttering. “Thank you.”

She nodded and held the gift box up too, no longer than about nine inches and about eight wide. “This is for you too.”

“Thank you,” he said, tucking the flowers into his elbow while he unwound the twine rope and opened the box top. He shifted away the tissue paper and pulled out a small book, about the size of his hand and his eyes went wide. “Is this—”

(Y/N) nodded. “Yeah! You mentioned that you wanted a pocket booklet of Emily Dickinson’s poems…so I went scrounging some old bookstores and found one.” She smiled bashfully. “For you.”

He huffed a laugh of disbelief and pulled her in for a quick hug. She tried not to pass out in his arms as he breathed in her ear, “Thank you, (Y/N). Really, thank you, so much.”

“It was no big deal,” she brushed off, pulling away from him and he shook his head.

“Well, it is to me,” he retorted with a grin, then gestured to her. “But I don’t understand, what brought this on?” he nudged her in the side humorously quipping, “I didn’t forget a gift exchange, did I?”

(Y/N) laughed. “No, no you didn’t, it’s just…” she trailed off, falling quiet.

“It’s just…” he repeated, tone and eyes ever curious, and she swallowed thickly.

It’s now or never, (Y/N). Just tell him how you feel.

She motioned to the book. “Well…they say it’s easier to relay feelings when you give gifts.” Smiling, she confessed, “Jason, I…have feelings for you. Really, really strong feelings.” He went slack jawed, and though she felt a pang of embarrassment, she kept speaking. “And I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out on a date with me tonight? There’s this really nice café uptown that has good soups…or maybe we could go to a bar and get a beer together?”

Clearing her throat, she added, with a flustered smile, “Whatever you wanna do of course. I’d be happy as long as you’re with me.”

He was silent. Jason was completely silent, and she wasn’t sure what was worse, his silence or the shock etched across his face, but she kept hoping for the best. That was until he said her name. And the tone he used…she knew instantly what was coming and all she wanted to do was shove her hand against his mouth and tell him to forget she ever said anything.

“(Y/N)…” he started sympathetically, recovering rather slowly. “I’m flattered,” he admitted, raising the flowers and book in his hands. “For the gifts, really I am…but…” Jason shook his head and gave her a pitied smile. “But I don’t feel the same way that you do…and I am sorry.”

For a moment she couldn’t remember how to breathe, simply gazing at the man she’d been friends with for the past seven months and trying to figure out how she interpreted every moment so horribly wrong. All the kind words and hugs. All the smiles and laughter. All of it.

“(Y/N)?” Jason worried. “Are you alright?”

She blinked, suddenly feeling a flush of coldness ebbing out through her stomach and down her limbs; she nodded, pursing her lips. “Yeah—I’m okay.” (Y/N) cleared her throat and pointed back towards the door. “I’m…I’m gonna go…”

She hadn’t even gotten a foot away when he caught the sleeve of her pink sweater and stopped her. “(Y/N), I’m really sorry. I don’t mean to hurt you like this.”

Sucking up all the embarrassment and heartbreak back in, she turned and let out a ‘pfft’, waving her hand as she lied, “What? No! I totally get it, Jason. Absolutely.”

He seemed unconvinced and she hated how he always knew something was off about her at every moment. “Are you sure?”

(Y/N) couldn’t fight the wobble in her lip as she nodded. “Mhm. Completely.” She tugged out of his grasp. “But I totally remembered that I have a thing to do. A very important thing not here.” She gestured to the door. “So I should go. Like now.”

This time, she didn’t wait when he called out to her and she yanked open the door and closed it behind her as fast as she could, hurrying down the steps to her car.

She climbed in, immediately gripped the steering wheel and pressed her forehead to the top of it, eyes starting to water as she tried to get her breathing under control. Her fingers fumbled with the keys and after the fourth missing of the ignition, she burst into tears and dropped her keys. Her lips wobbled and her sight was blinded as she reached for her keys in the floorboard and when she got them, she shoved them into the slot and twisted, barely hearing the engine roaring to life.

Wiping a hand across her face, she could’ve cared less about the makeup smearing across her skin and she put the car into drive, hoping that with every foot of distance she put between her car and the manor, she could leave a broken heart behind.

Because what was the worst thing he could’ve said?

No?

That was exactly it.

***Part Two***

Of all the bad decisions she’d ever made, this was probably the worst, and all she wanted to do was crawl into a hole and ride out every emotion that was coming onto her like a maelstrom. Every bad date, every failed notion of love just kept washing over her, but this one seemed like the nail in the coffin. She drove aimlessly for hours before she realized it was seven o’clock; a quick stop at her apartment and she fed her cat, also wiping the makeup and tear tracks off her skin before she wandered on foot with the direction of anywhere and nowhere.

***

Collapsing onto one of the benches that sat at the pier of Gotham Bay, she sighed heavily and gazed out at the water. It was calm compared to the storm inside and she propped her elbow on the railing, fist against her cheek, sighing again.

There was no way she could go to work and act like everything was okay. Kelly-Anne was going to drill her all about her “date” and she didn’t even go on one. She groaned. I never should’ve told her that I was going to ask Jason out. That’s going to be more embarrassing than being rejected by him. Another groan escaped her and she bent forward, burying her face in the floral dress pattern. I even wore a stupid dress and heels. Going slack, she let her feelings wash over her.

Something grabbed her shoulder. “Hey.”

“AHHHHH!” She yanked away, shooting up to see one of the masked vigilantes of Gotham city before her.

“Woah, woah!” they calmed, hands outstretched non-threateningly. “I’m not gonna hurt you!”

She pressed a hand to her chest and let out a sigh of relief, reclining on the bench as she heaved, “Oh my God, I thought—I don’t know what I thought you were.” A flighty laugh passed her lips. “You scared the hell out of me, Nightwing.”

He smiled and laughed. “Sorry. I saw you over here and thought I was going to find a new reason to call GCPD.”

“No, no,” she affirmed. “Just…dealing with things.”

Taking a seat beside her, he crossed his ankles and leaned back on the bench. “By groaning beside Gotham Bay at nine o’clock?”

She shot him a heat-less glare. “It was that or drown myself in cheap wine and Lewis Capaldi.”

He seemed to know what she was talking about, surmising, “Heartache?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” she muttered, lolling her head back on the bench, trying to ignore his steady gaze.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).” She grinned. “What’s yours?”

Nightwing chuckled. “Afraid I can’t give that out or I’ll be in with the Big-Bat.” She giggled and he followed with, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

(Y/N) pursed her lips and shook her head. “Nah…you’ve got better things to do than help a girl nurse a broken heart.”

“Sometimes the better thing to do is talk with someone.” When she met his eyes, he smiled wholeheartedly. “Try me. I’m a good listener.”

Something ached in her chest and after a moment of staring at him, she swallowed thickly and sighed. “There’s this guy I’ve been friends with for a few months now. And he’s really kind and intelligent and super good looking and I—” she shrugged. “I fell in love with him. I mean, it was hard not too with how amazing of a man he is.”

Nightwing nodded. “What’s his name?”

“Jason Todd,” she said, and she couldn’t help the smile that came across her lips. “One of the first times we were hanging out, I told him that his first name meant healer in Greek…but he didn’t seem too keen on that definition.”

“How come?” he inquired, and she shrugged again.

“I don’t really know…Jason’s never been all that open about his past.” (Y/N) looked at him. “I think some bad things happened to him when he was younger and he just…doesn’t let people in easily.” She managed a smile. “I feel like all the times he did tell me about his life, it made me feel special, you know? Knowing he trusted me enough to tell me.”

“You really seem to love him,” Nightwing noted and she couldn’t help the tears that gathered in her eyes.

“I do…Jason’s the first guy that’s ever seen me for me.” (Y/N) pursed her lips. “I’m weird. I work in a library and books are my life and I can talk your ear off about how Raymond Carver single-handedly saved the short story genre.” she sighed. “And I’ve always been the nerdy girl in the friend groups who watched everyone else fall in love while she pined from a distance.” She huffed a pitiful laugh that made even his heart tighten. “I mean, I even went to prom alone.”

Her eyes found his. “But Jason made me feel special. He listened and didn’t get upset when I apologized for talking so much. He just smiled and asked me to keep going.” (Y/N) wiped at her eyes. “I thought that we were getting closer, but God I saw all the signs of him being a good friend as romantic.” She groaned and buried her face in her hands. “And it’s so embarrassing to admit that I’m so starved of love that I saw them as loving gestures.” Another groan escaped her. “And then I asked him out today and got rejected.”

He blinked in shock, wondering why his brother would let this girl go. Obviously, they were perfect for each other. He didn’t tell her that though, instead asking, “What happened?”

(Y/N) moaned. “I showed up at his house with flowers and a book he’d been talking about.” She smushed her cheeks and glared out at the water. “And he was really nice about letting me down easy and I wish I could be upset about that, but I can’t because he was respectful.”

She sat back up on the bench and they both gazed at the stars. “Please tell me that even cute superheroes like you have romantic problems.”

Nightwing chuckled and nodded. “Oh, you’d be totally surprised.”

“Yeah?” (Y/N) giggled and he hummed.

“Two of my exes are super-heroines and they’re really good friends.”

She blinked at him. “Okay, yeah, you win, Nightwing.”

He chuckled and turned his neck, falling silent a moment to gaze at her. “…It does get better, (Y/N).”

Her lips pursed. “I know…I just have to wait it out.” She stared into his eyes. “But I don’t think anyone will ever be as great as Jason is.” Her eyes fell to the water and she sighed, “Is it too much to ask though…that I find someone to hold my hand and love me?”

Nightwing took her hand and laced their fingers. “I can’t do the second thing, but I can do the first for a while…if you want?”

(Y/N)’s eyes watered, and she squeezed his hand. “Yeah…I’d like that.” She propped her head on his shoulder, feeling his cheek press against the top of her head.

“Tell me what your favorite poem is, (Y/N).”

“I’ll bore you to death, Nightwing. And I apologize…a lot.”

“Someone tell you that no one cares when you were younger?”

“More than I’m comfortable admitting,” she sniffed. “From a lot of people I respected too.”

Nightwing hummed. “Well…I’m not them. And I care about what your favorite poem is.” He thumbed the back of her hand. “Please tell me.”

She sighed heavily and murmured, “I will hold you with harbor arms. The lighthouse finding a ship against the lonely sea. A shelter as your legs give out under torrential rain. What I’m trying to tell you is, you are safe here.”

He was silent for a minute, then he whispered, “That’s beautiful, (Y/N).”

“I think about it a lot…about it and Jason,” she replied quietly. “I think he’s afraid of love—of loving someone. I’d give anything to let him know that I’m not afraid of whatever skeletons he’s got in his closet…that…that I’m not afraid of him or what he’s afraid he is.”

Tears gathered in her eyes and she turned her head, quietly sobbing into his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I shouldn’t be—I shouldn’t—”

“Shhh,” he whispered, pulling his hand away from hers to curl around her shoulders, giving her a hug. “Let it out. I’m not here to judge you.” He wrapped his other arm around her, resting his chin on her head. “Let it all go, (Y/N).”

And she did. Every rejection throughout her life, from elementary school to high school to every college bar, she let out. Every “You’re not my type” and “I don’t date X girls” she let go of with every heart wrenching sob that tore her throat.

***

She didn’t know how long she cried, but when she was gone, Nightwing’s shoulder was completely soaked and (Y/N) had a raging headache to go with her heartache.

“Feel better?” he questioned when her sobs had subsided into sniffles every minute or two.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “A lot.”

Nightwing smiled. “Sometimes a good cry is all we need.”

“Mhm,” she agreed. “It’s cathartic.”

“Alright, Aristotle,” he chuckled and to her surprise, she found herself laughing. “And there’s the smile!” he cheered, letting her pull away to wipe her face.

“Sorry for boohooing on your shoulder,” (Y/N) apologized and he merely shook his head.

“Nah, don’t mention it.” He brushed off. “I hope someone like you would do the same for me if I needed it.”

She giggled. “Then we’ll meet here when we need good cries, huh, Nightwing?”

He held out his hand, watching her shake it. “Sounds like a good plan, (Y/N).” A siren went off in the distance and his face shifted instantaneously as he rose to his feet. “Rain check on the cry days.”

(Y/N) waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, go save the city.” As he started off, she called out, “Nightwing!”

He spun just for a moment. “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” she smiled.

“Anytime, (Y/N),” he winked and turned, sprinting off.

“Be careful!” she yelled and laughed when he waved a hand in the distance.

***Part Three***

She balanced the tin of cupcakes in one hand and opened the door with the other, already more than nervous as she stepped into GCPD. Some of the officers smiled and nodded at her while others merely watched as she walked up to the desk and cleared her throat.

“Excuse me,” she interrupted. “Is Commissioner Gordon here? I’d like to speak with him.”

The man’s eyes went from the cupcake tin to her face and he asked. “Can I ask what for?”

“Oh, yes, I just need to speak with him about something…involving Batman’s, uh…helpers?” she winced. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”

He cocked a brow, but shrugged and grabbed the phone, pushing a button. “Sir, you’ve got someone here to see you…no sir, she just said it dealt with Batman and the others…understood sir.” He hung the phone up. “He’ll over soon.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, and waited for the detective to arrive. When he did, she held her hand out, “Commissioner Gordon?”

He shook her hand. “Good evening, young lady. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I’m (Y/N) and um…it’s a bit complicated actually.”

“We live in a city with men and women who dress up in costumes and fight insane clowns.” He snorted. “We do complicated around here.”

(Y/N) huffed a laugh and nodded. “That’s fair, Commissioner Gordon.” She raised the tray of cupcakes in her hand. “This is going to be really weird, but I was wondering if I could use the spotlight to…call one of them.”

Gordon’s eyes drifted from the cupcakes to her, then back to the desserts. “You wanna use the Bat-Signal to get one of them…so you can give them cupcakes?”

Her mouth opened and closed, then she admitted, “Okay, that sounded a lot better in my head.” She sighed. “It’s not crazy, I swear but—”

“Why don’t you follow me to my office, and we can talk about this, hmm?” he asked, and she nodded.

“That sounds great, sir.” She followed close behind him to a closed-off room and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, waiting for him to sit in his chair.

“So,” he started when he sat down. “Start from the beginning of why you wanna give Batman cupcakes.”

(Y/N)’s cheeks warmed, and she murmured, “Nightwing. I want to give them to Nightwing, actually.” He cocked a brow but said nothing and she cleared her throat. “So, the other week, Nightwing helped me out with something and to repay the debt, I made these.”

“What’d he help you with?” Gordon questioned and she played with the hem of her sweater.

“Uh, he…he, um, helped me with a um…a really embarrassing rejection.” She waved her hand. “And I sobbed like a baby on his shoulder and I just wanna give him these in return and tell him sorry for taking up his valuable time.” (Y/N)’s cheeks felt like they were on fire and she begged, “Please let me use the signal to call and I’ll leave. Promise, sir.��

Gordon watched her for a moment then he chuckled and rose from his desk. “I’ve been doing this for about forty years, and nothing has ever been this funny in my entire life.” She sighed, thinking a ‘no’ was coming and he stood beside her. “Come with me to the elevator and we’ll go up.”

(Y/N) blinked in disbelief. “Wait, what? You’re going to let me?”

“Of all the things I’ve ever had someone come in and ask for? Delivering cupcakes is a new one. And I pride myself on getting the new ones.” He smiled. “Come on.”

Not wanting to blow her chance, she hurried after him with a big smile on her face and soon she was standing next to the giant spotlight, watching it silhouette against the night sky. She waited for a moment, then asked, “So how long does this usually take?”

He grunted. “Takes longer when you ask how long it takes.”

“That makes sense,” she laughed, and someone cleared their throat behind them. Both her and Gordon startled, though his reaction was less noticeable than hers, whereas she jumped a foot in the air.

“Red Hood,” Gordon greeted, holding out a hand to shake. “Good to see you, son.”

“Good to see you as well, Commissioner Gordon.” Red Hood replied. “Big-Bat in charge sent me here to see what was going on. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Gordon said, motioning to (Y/N). “You’ve got a visitor.”

The vigilante turned to her as if finally noticing her presence and he asked, “What’s wrong?”

(Y/N) held out the cupcake tin to him. “I was wondering if you could give these to Nightwing.”

Red Hood glanced down at the cupcakes. “Why’d you make cupcakes for that jerk-off?”

She was shocked to hear such an insult and she bit out, “Well maybe because I wanted to, jerk-off.” He was probably scowling at her from behind that mask, but she wasn’t going to back down. “Nightwing did me a favor last week and I always repay my debts.” (Y/N) held out the tin again. “Will you please give these to him and tell him thank you for his pep-talk?”

Red Hood took the tin from her, asking quietly, “What’d he help you with?”

“Oh my God, why does everyone wanna know?” she griped, then exhaled through her nose. “Fine, I got rejected by a guy I’m in love with, and I boohooed like a baby on a park bench with Nightwing holding my hand like a parent to a child and being super sympathetic.” (Y/N) glared, though she appeared flustered. “Are you happy now, Red Hood?”

“Be a lot happier if you weren’t giving my brother cupcakes,” he muttered under his breath and looked at her. “Do you want the Tupperware back?”

She nodded. “Just tell him that I’ll be back at the bench on Friday this week to pick it up. Same time as the other week.”

“I’ll tell him,” Red Hood said with a rather annoyed tone and started back towards the other side of the building.

“Red Hood!” she called out and he paused, glancing back at her. “Look…I know you’re busy with other things. So…thank you for doing this. Really, I appreciate it.”

He shook his head, murmuring softly, “Don’t worry about it, (Y/N).” And he was gone.

Gordon walked over to her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Miss (Y/N)? Are you alright?”

She blinked and nodded, though she felt a great deal of confusion as she said, “He knew my name?”

***

Jason watched his brothers dig into the cupcakes, groaning about how good they were. He didn’t even need to eat the one he had in his hand because he knew. He knew she made the best baked goods he’d ever had, especially these ones which were her specialty. Double Dutch Chocolate Cupcakes with little pink, shimmering pearls. She put them on because she thought they were cute.

He glanced down at the cupcake in his hands, asking, “How do you know, (Y/N), Dick?”

The eldest brother paused mid-chew and stared at him with a dumbfounded expression. “Huh?”

“Cupcakes,” Jason said, gesturing to them. “She made them as a thanks to you. For last week.” He looked at his brother. “What for?”

Dick swallowed the bite he’d been chewing and nonchalantly replied, “Oh, nothing big. Just being friendly.” He shrugged. “How do you know her?”

Jason scowled. “Don’t do that shit. We both know how I know her.”

“Oh, right! The rejection after the flowers and book!” Dick exclaimed, taking another bite. “So, why’d you say no anyway? She seems like great girl.”

“She is,” he agreed. “The greatest.”

Tim elbowed Dick in the ribs, murmuring, “Is this Jason admitting he’s in love?”

“I don’t know,” Dick replied. “Jaybird, if you’re this pissed at me—”

“I’m not pissed,” he retorted, very much so pissed. “I just don’t want her getting involved with this.”

Dick’s mouth formed an ‘o’. “So that’s why you rejected her. You’re afraid of letting her know about everything.” He hummed knowingly. “See, she said that was probably it. That you’re scared.”

“What?” Jason’s eyes widened. “What’d she say to you?” He handed his younger brother a thumb drive. “What’s this?”

“Recording of the conversation I had with her last Friday,” he replied. “I was planning on giving it to you later tonight.” Dick laid a hand on Jason’s shoulder and murmured, “She’s not going to run away if you’re vulnerable with her Jason.” He nodded to the flash drive. “She’s stronger than you’re giving her credit for.” Dick patted his shoulder and took the cupcake from Jason’s other hand, biting into it. “Oh my God,” he groaned, walking off. “What does she put in these things? They’re addicting.”

***

I’m not afraid of him or what he’s afraid he is.

Jason put his forehead on the desk and stared at the floor, not really sure what was tightening worse, his chest or his throat, but something in the mix started hurting and he let out a shaky breath, vision blurring and he squeezed his eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. Rejecting her affections meant she forgot about him. She forgot that he existed, and she stayed safe. She stayed alive. Jason wanted that. He wanted (Y/N) to grow old with someone and have a family, not die an early death at the hands of some crazed villain or worse, a failure of his saving.

He let out a low groan and rubbed his forehead against the desk, wishing that it would solve all his problems. Mostly the ones in his broken heart. They had texted each other and video called constantly. Usually meeting up once a week to hang out somewhere or go get dinner. His entire life had changed in one conversation, and the only thing he regretted more than telling her he didn’t feel the same way and making her cry was watching her lie that she hadn’t been bothered when he knew deep down that her heart was shattered. He knew it because he watched her breakdown in her car through the manor window before she pulled out of the driveway.

Maybe Dick was right though…and that thought made him wanna vomit because younger-brother syndrome was a real thing and listening to your older brother wasn’t fun. But if she were that honest with Nightwing, that real with him, then maybe he could tell her the truth. All of it. About everything he was hiding from her. His past and most importantly his feelings for her. Maybe he could really keep her safe if he did.

Maybe Jason could be the one she grew old with. The one who held her hand and loved her.

***Part Four***

“I don’t wanna die,” she whimpered, grasping at his wrists that were digging into her side. “Please, I don’t wanna die now.” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she let out a sob. “I don’t wanna die.”

He cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb across her skin. “You’re not going to die.” He promised. “I’m not going to let you die here.”

Her eyes found his behind the domino mask and she whimpered again. “I’m scared, Red Hood.”

“I’m going to save you. I swear I will.” He ignored the blood that had smeared across her cheek and pressed his hand back to her bleeding abdomen, tears of his own gathering in his vision as he whispered, “I won’t lose you too.”

***

She couldn’t help but look to her wristwatch again, just to make sure she hadn’t been late. Of course, she’d gotten there fifteen minutes early, but still—time was a funny thing and sometimes she found herself late to things even if she’d arrived early. She should’ve just told Red Hood to let Nightwing keep the Tupperware, but that thing was like forty dollars and it was her favorite cupcake tin—she wasn’t letting that go.

Footsteps sounded through the traffic from her right and she looked up, smile faltering just slightly when she saw Red Hood coming her way instead of Nightwing. “Hey Red Hood!” she greeted with a tad of confusion and he waved.

“Hey (Y/N).” he raised the tin. “Sorry for being the one to drop this off but Nightwing was…busy.”

She snorted. “Don’t worry about it. Did he like—”

Red Hood dropped the tin, breaking into a sprint towards her. “(Y/N)! BEHIND YOU!”

“What?” (Y/N) spun and gasped when she came face to face with two masked men. “Oh fu—UHN!” one of them sunk their fist into her stomach and she bent over with a gag, knees going out below her as they grabbed her by her arms and yanked her forward.

She heard him screaming for her as they dragged her to the side of the road and shoved her into the back of a van. (Y/N) tried kicking at them but one of them picked something up and hit her across the head and the last thing she saw before everything went dark was Red Hood fading from view as the doors shut.

***

The tires screeched on the van as it hauled off and Jason had barely managed to grab the back handle as it did. He gripped the sides of his hood and cursed sharply, heart already beating wildly as he panted. “Fuck!” he screamed. “Motherfucker!”

He spun around, mind hopping from place to place as if he couldn’t figure out what to do first, and he punched a button on the side of his hood. “Nightwing, do you read me?” The line crackled a moment. “Nightwing! Come in!”

Jesus, I heard you the first time, Hood. What’s wrong? Break a nail?

“Dick,” he whispered. “It’s—it’s (Y/N).”

Something in Jason’s voice told him all he needed to know. What do you need me to do?

He turned in the direction that the van sped off in. “Two masked thugs grabbed her and took off with her in a van.”

License plate and van description?

“I31-FL4. White Chevy van, tinted windows.”

Alright, I’m away from a computer right now, but let me get Tim on the line. Another crackle. Hey Red, you busy?

At the moment. Why?

I need you to run a license plate for me on a white Chevy van.

Mmm, can it wait? I’m in the—oh shit—middle of something right now.

Tim, it’s urgent. (Y/N)’s been grabbed.

Number?

I31-FL4.

Your van just clocked four traffic cameras heading over the bridge past Chinatown into Founders and off to north of Port Adams. Scans are telling me that Cobblepot’s manor is that way.

“Cobblepot?” Jason repeated. “What the hell is he—” his sighed. “Shit, Dick, one of Penguin’s thugs probably saw you and (Y/N) the other night.”

And Penguin’s assumed that she knows who I am. Ugh, times like these I wish I hadn’t busted his gun running from Blüdhaven. Jason, I’m on my way.

Do you need backup, Hood? I’m about twenty out from your position.

“Don’t worry about it, Red.” He assured. “Nightwing and I got this.” Jason started towards the other side of the street, already pulling out his grapple. “You stay on whatever it is you’re doing.”

Aw man. But rescue missions are so fun.

“Tim. Fuck over the line and get off.”

***

Cold water splashed across her skin and she gasped, startling awake with violent shivers. Immediately she tried to get away but found herself bound to a chair; eyes searching wildly until they came to rest on the short and fat man walking towards her, wearing an eyeglass and smoking a cigar.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” He greeted. “Sleep well?”

Swallowing thickly, her eyes darted to the various armed thugs around her and she murmured, “What do you want with me, Mister Cobblepot?”

“Mister Cobblepot?” he cackled. “So polite.” He got in her face. “I want something you have.”

Her eyes found his. “I’m willing to part with whatever you need in return for my life.”

“I want Nightwing’s name,” Penguin said, and she blinked at him.

“Come again?”

His hand split across her face and she cried out in pain. “I don’t want to be drug around. His name. Now.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know Nightwing’s name.”

“Really?” he asked, then held out a hand and she watched someone put a phone in it and he shoved it in her face. “So that ain’t you sobbing on his shoulder like a whore with a heartache?”

Her eyes followed the picture and even from a distance, her and Nightwing’s faces could be seen, as well as their conjoined hands. “Okay,” she started. “I see what that looks like, but it’s not what it is. I swear.” Laughter echoed through the warehouse and she squirmed in her binds.

Penguin gazed at her for a moment, then he cracked his hand back across her face once more, and this time, he busted her lip. “I want his name.”

“I don’t know his name!” she spat the blood out of her mouth. “I was having a moment of weakness and he comforted me like a good person does. That’s it. He didn’t tell me his name.”

“I don’t believe you.” He hissed and she rolled her eyes.

“Look, it’s not my prerogative what you believe but that’s the truth. I don’t know who Nightwing is. Believe me, I asked, and he said he couldn’t tell me.” She leaned forward. “Hit me all you want but I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

He shrugged. “Works for me.” And he punched her in the jaw, grinning proudly when her head lolled forward and she let out a low groan. “Who is he?”

“I. Don’t. Know.” She hissed through clenched teeth and he waved a hand.

“Someone bring me a knife. Maybe she’ll think better if she’s flowing.”

Her eyes widened and she started thrashing. “Okay! Wait! Let’s not be hasty!”

Penguin flicked open the knife and pointed it at her. “Name. Or I’m gonna slash you.”

“Mine? Mister Cobblepot, I’m disappointed that you don’t know the names of the women you kidnap.” She griped, voice turning into a shout of pain when he swiped the knife against her cheek. Blood flowed from the cut down her face, dripping onto her sweatshirt and she teared up, cheek stinging harshly.

“Want me to do the other side and make it match?” he asked, and she glared at him through her teary eyes.

“Go fuck yourself, oompa-loompa.” Glowering at the knife coming back down at her and she watched as something collided with it, causing sparks to jump as the knife practically jumped out of his hand.

Penguin cried out and spun in the direction of whatever had knocked the knife from him. “Red Hood!”

Someone dropped beside him and propped an elbow on the vigilante’s shoulder. “And Nightwing!” he glanced at her. “Sorry for getting you involved in this.”

She tried for a smile but still grimaced. “Say that after you get me out of this.”

He grinned and pulled out his escrima sticks, clicking the buttons. “That’s fair.”

“Well don’t just stand there!” Penguin yelled at the thugs. “Get them!”

It was a free for all. And even she was wincing with pity when a thug landed in front of her feet, blood streaming out of his nose as his eyes rolled back in his head. She figured since they were busy with fighting one another, she could use the time to get out of her binds—if at all possible.

She wriggled vigorously until there was slack in the ropes around her wrist and she started yanking her arms back, ignoring the way it broke her skin and rubbed it raw. Eventually she got one hand out and she let out a cheer, eyes scanning the ground for the knife.

It lay a few feet away and she grunted as she slouched in the chair, kicking her leg out as far as she could to toe it closer. Almost there! She strained against the bind and slammed her foot on the knife, dragging it to her. With a winning smile she picked it up and slashed the rest of the ropes on her wrist and stood up, immediately ducking as another thug flew over her head and she glared at Red Hood.

“Hey! Watch it!”

He stopped fighting, a gang-banger in a headlock. “How’d you get out of that?”

She put her hands on her hips. “I’m not some helpless damsel in distress, Hood.”

Chuckling, he slung the guy into the wall and pointed to the exit. “Get out and run as far as you can.”

“Right.” She spun and started towards the double doors when two thugs got in her way and she sighed. “Oh, fuck off.” Taking a step back, she turned on her heel when one grabbed her around the waist, and she yelped as he lifted her in the air. “Lemme go you big bastard!”

“(Y/N)!”

Someone shouted her name and she did the only thing she could do—she swung knife downwards, narrowly missing her own side as she stabbed the thug in the hip. He screamed, dropping her and she grunted when she hit the concrete. (Y/N) crawled along the ground when the same guy she stabbed, hauled her up by her belt.

“Oh, come on!” she yelled, and he threw her into the corner of the warehouse into some plywood boxes. They shattered under the force of the throw and her weight and she collapsed in a pile of hardboard, something in her side aching much more than anything else, like she’d been stabbed.

After a moment, the fighting seemed to die down and she managed to crawl to her knees, glancing down to find whatever kept poking her in skin and her eyes widened when she saw the jagged end of a piece of plywood sticking out of her stomach. And the second she saw it, the pain came, and she gasped sharply, holding it as she looked up them.

They were dealing with Penguin and she watched as Nightwing shoved the escrima stick to his neck and sent fifty-thousand volts into his body, watching as he jerked and passed out.

(Y/N) fell back on her knees and weakly called, “Guys?” they turned and gaped at her. “Help me.”

Red Hood was the first one to her and he dropped to his knees, pulling her against him. “(Y/N),” he breathed, one hand skimming over her face, the other pressing against the wound. She cried out and he said, “You’re going to be okay.” He looked at Nightwing. “Call a bus. Now.”

Nightwing knelt beside her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, (Y/N). We’re going to take care of you.”

She nodded, though she wasn’t too sure of her belief in them. “It hurts,” she whimpered and Red Hood looked down at her side, raising his gauntlet to it.

“The wood punctured your liver.” He said and she sighed in shock.

“Am…am I gonna die?” she asked quietly, and Red Hood yanked off his hood, pressing down tightly onto her side.

“No. You’re not going to die, (Y/N).”

Suddenly, tears were gathering in her eyes and she whimpered, “I don’t wanna die.” (Y/N) grasped at the wrist that was digging into her abdomen. “Please, I don’t wanna die now.” Tears slipped down her cheeks and she let out a sob. “I don’t wanna die here.”

He cupped her cheek, brushing his thumb across her skin. “You’re not going to die.” He promised. “I’m not going to let you die here.”

Her eyes found his behind the domino mask and she whimpered again. “I’m scared, Red Hood.”

“I’m going to save you. I swear I will.” He ignored the blood that had smeared across her cheek and pressed his hand back to her bleeding abdomen, tears of his own gathering in his vision as he whispered, “I won’t lose you too.”

(Y/N) pressed her head to his shoulder. “I have a cat at my home. If I don’t make it will you get him for me? Find him a good home?”

“Don’t talk like this. You’re going to make it, (Y/N).” He looked at Nightwing. “Where’s the bus?”

“Ten out,” he replied. “I’ll go open the doors.” He hurried off and left the two.

“Red Hood, my cat—”

“You’re going to see Matlock again, I promise,” he interrupted sternly, and she gaped at him.

“How do you know my cat’s name? How do you even know my name?” He met her eyes and slowly reached up, peeling the mask from his face and her jaw went slack. “J—Jason?”

He gave her a weak smile. “Surprised?”

(Y/N) could barely find the words and she huffed, “I called you a jerk-off last weekend.”

“Yeah, I kinda deserved that.” Jason laughed, putting the mask back into place. “Couldn’t help it though. You made cupcakes for my brother.”

“Jealous?” she teased, voice dropping into a groan when she shifted.

Jason cupped her cheek. “Like you wouldn’t believe.” He thumbed her skin as the paramedics entered the warehouse and he smiled. “You’re going to be okay, (Y/N).”

She gripped his hand. “Don’t leave me. Please, Jason, don’t leave me.”

“I’ll come to see you after they get you into the hospital. Okay?”

“Promise?” (Y/N) whispered and he nodded.

“I promise, doll.” He nodded his head and stepped back, letting the medics do their job. And when they had her in the back of the ambulance, he sighed heavily and watched the siren wail as the red lights disappeared down the boulevard.

Dick rested a hand on his shoulder. “Go. I’ll call GCPD.”

Jason turned and pulled his brother into a strong hug, squeezing him tightly. “Thank you, Dick. God, thank you so much.”

“Oh my God, are you willingly hugging me!” Dick screeched, and when Jason tried to pull away, he held on and buried his face in Jason’s shoulder. “My Little-wing!”

“Okay, get the fuck off me. This is embarrassing.” He scowled.

***

Her head felt heavy and she barely had the strength to open her eyes. Brightness flooded her vision and she shut them again, waiting a moment before trying to open them once more. This time, it wasn’t as bright, and she blearily glanced around the room before catching sight of Jason curled up uncomfortably in the hospital chair beside her bed.

She didn’t wake him at first, simply gazing at him. He looked tired. Tired and worn out, like he hadn’t slept in years. Which might’ve been the case if the rumors of Red Hood being the second Robin were true—murdered then revived later. She doubt he slept much at all.

As if he knew she was watching him, his eyes opened and he met hers, blinking the sleep away and then he was leaning forward, gently murmuring, “Hey, (Y/N). How do you feel?”

She sighed, resting on the pillow, the thumb brushing her forehead almost lulling her back into sleep. “…Tired,” she mumbled. “And sore.”

Jason huffed a laugh. “Yeah, getting stabbed will do that to you.” He glanced towards the door. “Let me go get the doctor real—”

“Stay,” she said, grabbing his arm and he stilled. “Please stay. Just for a moment.”

“Alright,” he agreed, sitting back in the chair. “I’ll stay,” he said, but his eyes became firm. “but in five minutes, I’m going to get Doctor Brown.”

(Y/N) stuck her tongue out at him, and they collapsed into laughter, though at one point she groaned, “Oh God, don’t make me laugh.” She rested her hand on her abdomen. “Everything in this general area hurts.”

Jason took her hand. “It will—quit prodding it,” he griped. “You don’t wanna open up your stitches.” He ran his calloused thumb over the back of her hand and met her eyes. “I was so scared when I saw you get taken.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and he shook his head.

“It’s my fault. I should’ve seen it coming earlier. I should’ve told you earlier, but I was so scared of letting you know everything.” Tears gathered in his eyes. “But I almost wasn’t fast enough tonight, and you got hurt and—”

(Y/N) brushed her fingers over his lips, shushing him. “Jason, it wasn’t your fault.”

He frowned behind her fingers. “But you—”

“I’m here.” She affirmed. “And I’m okay.” (Y/N) grabbed his chin. “You saved me.”

“What happens if I’m too late next time?” he asked, eyes searching hers and she smiled.

“We’re not going to let that happen.”

“But it—”

“It’s not going to happen again.” She brushed her thumb over his lip and smiled at him.

He cupped her hand to his face and bent over, pressing his lips to hers; Jason stayed there for a moment, merely resting his forehead to hers and he lamented, “I’m sorry I turned you down. I never meant to hurt you…I was just—”

“Keeping me safe,” she surmised. “I know, baby.” Jason froze, eyes wide. “Too early?”

He chuckled and kissed her again. “Say it again.”

“Mmm, say please, and I’ll throw in a ‘I love you’.” (Y/N) countered.

“Pretty please?”

She grinned. “I love you, babe.”

“I love you, doll.”

[sageinacage]

My Fireplace (MCYT FIC EXCHANGE) summary: after a long day, all niki wants to do is to warm up and snuggle; and her friend puffy is more than happy to help. prompt: niki is tired after a really long day (maybe a bit down as well) and puffy gives her soft cheer-up tickles and platonic cuddles and positive reassurance a/n: this is my mcyt fic exchange fic for @vibinganon !! i hope you enjoy v :D warnings: slight self doubt, implied mentions of overworking, hurt/comfort-ish!! w/c: 1.1k DSMP, Platonic

~

Letting the door to her house close behind her, Niki looked at the ground as a sigh escaped her mouth. It was a long day, to say the least.

To start, it was cold. Very cold. As the weather was unexpected, Niki didn’t dress as warmly as she should’ve on this unfortunate day. And what made it worse; she was going to do outside gardening work today.

To be expected, doing heavy gardening work with the cold winds brushing against her skin every few minutes was draining. She felt as if her muscles were going to freeze up at any moment, the chilly breeze almost taunting her at this point.

Niki wiped off the cold sweat from her forehead, deciding that the few hours of work were enough for the day. She shook her head, wanting to do more; but the nearly unbearable weather was twisting and pulling at her motivation.

‘There’s nothing wrong with taking a break for today, right?’ Niki asked herself, trying to find some form of validation; even if that involved talking to herself. She was tired, and all she wanted to do is sit by a warm fireplace and nap.

Treading along the paths to her house, Niki looked up and began to see the shadowy silhouette of her home amongst the fog, a soft smiling pulling from the corners of her lips.

She walked in, sighing as the warm air surrounded her. She immediately went into her room to change into a colorful striped sweater and long pants and left to go start up her fireplace.

To her surprise, her fireplace was already lit; and a little poof of white hair could be seen peeking out from on the couch.

“Puffy? Is that you?” Niki spoke quietly, unsure if her tired eyes were failing her or not. With a soft hum of acknowledgment, Puffy peaked up from where she was reading a book. “The one and only! Why don’t you come here and warm up, yeah?”

Niki rushed with haste, and crashed into the sheep hybrid with a big hug, immediately being pulled into her embrace. “Rough day?” Puffy softly asked, feeling Niki’s head nod with a small nod. “You’re all good now, though. You can relax, I got you, Niki.” With that, Niki immediately melted into her friend, practically laying on her lap as the captain softly slotted her fingers comfortingly through her hair.

“Is this good?” Puffy asked, a fond smile painting over her features as her best friend smiled and nodded, enjoying the cozy heat from the fireplace on her skin and the long nails lightly scratching at her scalp.

"You're like my fireplace, you're so cozy." Niki mumbled, smiling to herself as she enjoyed the feeling of her hair being played with. Puffy let out a soft chuckle, smiling at Niki's comment.

It was peaceful, to say the least, until the said long nails got dangerously close to Niki’s neck.

“Oh, sorry! Did I hurt you?”

“N- No! I just… felt a small itch and it startled me!”

Puffy raised an eyebrow, not believing what she had to say. The pirate wasn’t a gullible one, that’s for sure. “Alright, come lay back down, you goof,” Puffy spoke with a playful tone, Niki obliging and laying on top of her lap again.

Puffy wasn’t gullible, but she was definitely curious. Gingerly, she let her nails scratch the base of Niki’s head, right by her neck. To be expected, the woman let out another squeak… and what sounded like a giggle. Ohhhh.

“I see. I’m guessing you’re ticklish?”

“M- Maybe?”

“Good to know.”

Niki shuddered at the sudden teasy tone that Puffy put on, immediately falling back as she felt gentle tracing up her side. “I’m gonna help cheer you up, ‘kay? Let me know when to stop.” Puffy knew her friend needed this. The blonde would never admit it, but there’s nothing better than soft tickles from the person you're close with after a long and taxing day.

A pink blush dusted over Niki’s cheeks as she nodded, covering her mouth as giggles began to pour out as she felt ticklish sensations over a particularly sensitive patch of skin.

Puffy’s nails found where her side met her belly to be particularly sensitive, lightly scritching at the skin. “PuhUHUFffy!” Niki squealed, the sheep hybrid just chuckling at her. “Niki!” She playfully repeated, earning a flustered grumble from her friend.

“Y’know Niki, I’m proud of you for how much work you did today. It’s not easy to be outside in the cold weather, especially if you aren’t properly dressed for it,” Puffy smiled, gently scribbling her fingers right beneath Niki’s belly button before continuing, “...and I’m honestly impressed. Not even I would be able to do that; I’d go back home after merely ten minutes!”

Niki was able to hear the reassurance message over her own squeals, a big grin spreading across her face from both the tickles and Puffy’s kind words. “I- It tihiHIHIckles- nohot thehEHERE!” The blonde threw her head back as Puffy’s nails skittered around her sides, gently squeezing the crook of her waist.

“Why not? I quite like it here, it gets those cute giggles out of you!~” Puffy exclaimed, chuckling softly at Niki’s whine as she covered her face. “N’awww, Niki! Let me see that pretty smile!” She fluttered her nails into her friend’s upper ribs, making Niki instantly crash her arms down.

“There you go!~” Puffy cooed, smiling as she noticed how less tense Niki sounded, and how she was more relaxed and giving in to the soft tickles. “You did a lot of hard work, you deserve to allow yourself to relax completely sometimes. Even if you don’t feel like you deserve it, you still do.”

Niki hummed in acknowledgment, bubbly and soft giggles still flowing out of her mouth as Puffy’s tickles turned into light traces around her tummy, melting completely into the soft tickles.

“Are you sleepy, Niki?” Puffy asked, noticing how much of a puddle Niki was, and how she was subconsciously snuggling into the captain. “Mhmhm…” She mumbled through her giggles, looking up at her friend with tired eyes.

“Then sleep well, I’ll wake you up in a few hours when dinner is ready, alright?” Niki nodded, sleep already washing over her body. Puffy sighed contently, playing with Niki’s hair as she slept on top of her lap.

With the crackling fireplace and cushy couch being a bit too comfortable than it should, Puffy yawned herself, the relaxing atmosphere making her sleepy as well. A little nap wouldn’t hurt anybody.

[yikesharringrove]

Egg the Cat

Chapter 2

Read on Ao3

-

Nancy flinched as an engine revved, a sleek blue muscle car pulling into the lot. 

Steve let himself focus on it. It was better than dwelling on his fucking essay, his impending shitty night spent with Barb’s parents, like he didn’t feel horrible enough about that whole situation. 

He watched the car pull into a space at the front of the lot. 

California plates.

“Who’s that?” Steve could picture Nancy wrinkling her nose as she said it, too focused on Billy getting out of his car to turn and see it for real. 

He narrowed his eyes at a young redhead getting out of the passenger side. 

Billy hadn’t said anything about a sibling. 

“That’s Billy. I met him last night.” He finally looked back at Nancy as Billy set off towards the school. “He found Egg downtown.” 

Nancy’s eyebrows flew nearly to her hairline. 

“Steve, I’m sorry, I forgot. Is she okay?”

“Yeah, Billy got her safe and sound. Still don’t know how she got out, though. Let alone made it all the way downtown.” He locked his car as they headed towards the high school, the warning bell sounding through the parking lot.

He reached for Nancy’s hand, his heart soaring when she let him take it. 

Sometimes she said his hands were too clammy. 

He walked her to her first class, kissing her softly by the door. 

Billy glared at the tiny brunette sitting in front of him. 

Steve hadn’t said anything about having a fucking girlfriend last night. 

And really, Billy should’ve known. He’s a hot guy, living in a town of not a lot of hot guys. It makes sense some girl would snap him up. 

It just felt like a slap in the face. 

It’s not like Billy thought he actually had a chance with Steve, but now all of his daydreams, any of his dirty thoughts featuring one Steve Harrington were gonna be tainted, by this prissy fucking bitch. 

Billy just spent all of his AP biology lecture boring holes into the back of her head. 

He didn’t really give a fuck if people noticed, thought it was weird. He was too busy channeling all of his anger, all of his hatred onto this skinny little priss. 

He hoped she could feel it, like maybe his anger gaze gave off palpable heat or something. 

Based on how many times she stuck her hand up to answer every question posed by the teacher, no, she couldn’t feel the heat of Billy’s rage. 

He couldn’t get out of there fast enough, only to find they shared all three of their morning classes. 

Because fuck Billy. 

And then he had to watch, had to stand there like a stupid gay fucking idiot as Steve lifted nancy off her feet, and made out with her against her locker. 

He stomped past, hoping to go unnoticed by-

“Billy!”

Fuck. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, taking a few deep breaths before turning, plastering his best I am so charming and I don’t hate your girlfriend for no reason smile on his face. 

Steve was all sunshiney again today. Billy mentally kicked the little voice in his head saying that sunshine is for you. 

“Hey, man! How’s your first day going?” Steve had his girl tucked under his arm. She looked like a frail little bird. Billy hoped Steve’s cat ate her for breakfast one day soon.

“Well, you got mad at me last night when I called this place a shithole, so I’m just going to heavily imply it.” Steve laughed, his head tipping back a little, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Billy tried to think about his dad, tied to think about the shelf bruises on his back. 

And then Steve was pressing a sheet of paper into his hand, and their fingers fucking brushed and Billy tried, tried to think of a broken arm and cops at his house, and not holding fucking hands with Steve Harrington. 

He studied the paper, just to look somewhere that wasn’t Steve’s eyes. A lighter shade of brown in the fluorescent lights, a shade bordering on green. 

Come and get sheetfaced. 

“Hawkins parties will probably be lame compared to what you’re familiar with, but I mean, it should be fun.” Billy just nodded, eyes trained on the little ghost. “We’ll be there. Nancy and I.” Nancy. That’s a stupid fucking name. “Y’know, if you aren’t too cool for us by then.”

Steve was smirking at him a little when Billy finally looked up. 

“I’m already cooler than you, Harrington.” Fuck. It sounded way meaner than Billy had wanted, sounded actually rude, not like a little ribbing. Not like a little tongue-in-cheek reference to last night. Cold shit. 

But then Steve tossed his head back, and he laughed, a full belly laugh, and he clapped Billy on the shoulder, and Billy has never felt gayer in his entire life. 

“Harsh, man. Real harsh. Wait ‘til I tell Egg you said that, she’ll never want to see you again .” And Steve was still smiling at him, and he had maybe, alluded to Billy seeing his cat again, which meant seeing Steve outside of school, and Nancy was looking down the hall, like this conversation was below her pay grade, and Billy wanted. 

“See, that’s why I’m cooler than you. I don’t go telling my cat all my lame drama.”

“That’s because you don’t have a cat,” Steve said playfully, his face falling a bit. “Wait, you don’t have a cat, do you?” Billy shrugged.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” And Steve smiled at him, and the bell rang, and Nancy rolled her eyes before pressing herself out from underneath Steve’s arm, and Steve’s big sweet eyes snapped onto her. 

“I’ve got to get to Calculus.” Billy’s heart sank. They shared four classes so far. 

Steve just leaned down to kiss her, one hand cradling the side of her face. Billy looked away.

“I love you.” He had to suppress a snort as Nancy said it back, her voice all pitchy and off. 

But Steve reached out to clap Billy on the shoulder again. 

“I better see you tonight!” And he was off down the hall, and Billy, once again, made a point not to look at his ass. 

-

“You gotta be home by nine-thirty, okay, Shitbird?” Max rolled her eyes again. 

“Billy, I know what time I need to be home by.”

“Just making sure, because you know if you don’t make curfew, I’m somehow gonna be blamed for it.” Billy had only gotten out of playing babysitter this evening when Max had nearly thrown a full tantrum at the idea of trick-or-treating with adult supervision while she’s trying to make friends. 

She just looked at him sharply, her lips pursing a bit. 

“I’ll be home.” Her voice had an edge to it. Billy didn’t really know how to take it.

“Be safe.” She didn’t acknowledge him, just got out of the car, a little Michael Myers heading into the swarm of children. 

He pulled down the road, the party address only a few blocks from where Max was meeting her friends. 

He slammed a beer the minute he entered the party, didn’t want to be sober for a second of this shitfest. 

Steve had been right. This party didn’t hold a fuckin’ candle to what he frequented down in Cali. 

He tried to make the best of it, beat the keg stand record, found some stupid jocks that were more than happy to parade around him all night. 

He just had to get to that sweet spot, drunk enough he would actually get hard with a girl, but not too drunk he’d get whiskey dick. He didn’t need that to be his reputation in this shitty town. 

He was being pulled through the crowd by some freckly fucker dressed as the guy from Karate Kid. Max had made him take her to that movie six times in the theaters. Billy had slept through it every time. 

He was feeling pretty okay, the beer settling into his system, giving him a warm buzz as he studied the party. Maybe he could find some punk kids, score some weed or-

Steve Harrington.  

The karate guy had shoved him in front of Steve, had said, guess who’s the new Keg King, Harrington?

Steve was glaring at the guy, drawn up to his full height, shoulders squared, all of that melting as he turned to Billy, smiling warmly at him. 

Fucking sunshine. 

“Nice job, Dude!” And Steve took Billy’s hand, and he pulled him into a one-armed fucking hug. 

Billy was absolutely stunned. Maybe a little bit hard as he pat his hand against Steve’s back. Felt his muscles moving under his jacket. 

But then Steve pulled back, his eyes trailing after his fucking girlfriend, and he was gone, followed her into the kitchen. 

Billy wanted to tear out his fucking hair. 

He went the opposite way as Steve, pushing through the sweaty crowd. 

He really didn’t need to see Steve coddling his girl. 

He shoved his way into the backyard, vaulting the low fence on the porch, making his way out of the yellowed light spilling out of the house. 

He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it quickly. 

Fucking idiot. You knew you couldn’t have any fucking boy in this goddamn town.

But Billy had come into this town really not expecting any boy to actually catch his eye. 

Not like Steve has. 

Steve with his stupid big eyes, and his stupid big hair, and his stupid cat named fucking Egg. Who names a cat Egg? That’s a dumb fucking name. 

Billy lit his next cigarette with the dying remains of the last one. 

He thought about calling it quits, heading home early. 

But it wasn’t even ten yet, and really, he needed to fool around with a chick tonight. He needed to establish himself as a lady killer. 

Sleep with one girl, and the rumors would build enough that he probably wouldn’t have to fuck any others, just not deny it when any girl claims they had a wild night of passion. 

It was safer that way. Gave him some cushion. 

Then, if any of the lies began to unravel, he’ll just fuck another one, and let the rumor mill do its trick. 

Besides, he can find a brunette, make her take it from behind. If he’s lucky, the party’ll be loud enough he can tune out her moans, picture someone else, picture him -

The backdoor slammed against the wall as someone stomped outside. 

Billy just took another deep drag, hoped he wouldn’t be noticed. 

But, of course-

Steve didn’t even ask, just took the cigarette out of Billy’s mouth, taking a long fucking drag. 

He rolled his shoulders, let his head fall back, blowing the smoke out towards the sky. 

“Y’know, I fucking quit smoking because of her. Not like I did it a lot, but still .” Billy just stayed quiet. He really didn’t want to talk about Steve’s fucking girlfriend. “Because I actually cared .” Oh, now wait a minute.

“What happened?” 

Steve shot him a dark look.

“You weren’t inside?” 

Billy just gestured to the cigarette Steve was now sucking on once again. Billy kept his focus on Steve’s left earlobe. Didn’t care to get a semi just from looking at his lips. 

“Lovers’ quarrel?”

“Does repeatedly being called bullshit and having her tell you she doesn’t love you count as a lovers’ quarrel?”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.” Steve tossed the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out. Billy didn’t know what to say. 

What he wanted to say was you ever sucked dick? And then maybe take Steve’s mind off of everything by fucking his face, but that felt a little forward, felt a little gay. 

“ Fuck .”

Oh, shit. 

Steve was fucking, Steve was gonna cry. Standing outside with Billy, barely lit by the light filtering through the small frosted bathroom window. 

“ Next week .” Steve’s voice cracked. “We would’ve been together one year next week. And she was pretending .” Steve slumped back against the wall, his face buried in both his hands. “I, I changed everything for her. I stopped seeing my friends because she didn’t like them, I stopped smoking because she said it was gross, I changed who I am as a fucking person. And you know, granted, I am a better person. But I’m different, because of her, and she just, she threw all of it away.”

He sniffed loudly, his shoulders stuttering. 

Billy felt like his guts were on fucking fire. 

“Fuck her. Fuck her. You are a good guy. And if she’s too much of a bitch to see that, she doesn’t deserve you.” Steve didn’t acknowledge him for a while. Billy just let it be, lit another cigarette. 

“I think I’m gonna go home. I wanna see my cat.” Steve sounded like a little kid. Like a heartbroken little kid. 

“You good to drive?” And Steve finally pulled his head out of his hands. 

His big eyes were shining, his cheeks wet, glistening in the low light. 

“I don’t drink anymore. Because she said I’m an asshole when I’m drunk.”

Billy weighed his words carefully. 

“I’ve got a bottle of tequila in my car if you wanna stick it to her.” Steve gave him a watery smile. 

“You wanna follow me to my place?”

[ohwoopsiescafe]

Jealousy Time—I Mean Coffee Time

It was a lovely Thursday morning. You and your boyfriend were walking along the college campus heading towards a Starbucks near the centre in order to buy a coffee to get you going and help you pull through your arduous studying session planned for that day. You were wearing a beautiful white dress with daisies on it, a pastel pink cardigan, white sneakers and your hair arranged in two pretty braids. You looked so cute. Yoongi thought the same. He couldn’t stop looking at you and smiling in consequence. You were his everything. He was really cute as well. His outfit consisted of black jeans, a big hoodie and some converse boots. It suited him. It reflected his personality. Calm, tranquil, cozy… everything. He was your everything too.

The weather was perfect. The golden sun rays hit your face softly, giving it a glow. Cherry blossoms were falling from trees making a beautiful petal shower. It was a gorgeous summer day. Both Yoongi and you wanted something cold to refresh yourselves, so when you reached the coffee shop, you played a round of “rock-paper-scissors” to decide which one of you would order. Unfortunately, and like it was most of the time, you lost and had to go lineup in an ever eternal queue that was extending even outside the little shop while Yoongi looked for a place to seat and wait until you returned with your drinks.

You wrote down your boyfriend’s order in your phone’s memos so you didn’t forget it. You swear Yoongi only asks for the most complicated drinks to make you have a hard time. You know damn well he prefers a simple Americano but always ends up with a super long order just to make you suffer. Next time you win that “rock-paper-scissors-thingy” he’ll know what’s good! You frowned like an angry kitten and balled up your fists cutely. Yoongi was watching you from afar and his heart melted at your sight. However, he wasn’t the only one looking. He noticed the barista eyeing you with a flirty smile. How could he not? You were so pretty. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean he wasn’t a little upset about it.

It was your turn to order so you approached the counter with a smile.

—Hello, what are you going to have today?

—Mm… I’ll have a tall iced caramel macchiato, please

—What type of milk do you drink?

—Almond’s good.

—Almond? Okay—the chestnut hair boy wrote it down on your cup.

—And… could you put a little more caramel drizzle on it?

—Sure—he gave you a handsome smile—could you help me giving me your name, miss?

—Oh, yeah, sorry—you chuckled a little embarrassed—. My name’s y/n.

—You come here often, don’t you?

—Yes, I do—you tilted your head slightly to the left—how do you know though?

—I’m a psychic—he laughed—I’m kidding. I just noticed how frequently you come and find it a little funny and cute how you always ask for the same thing with an extra drizzle so I wanted to take your order today to know your name.

—Ah haha—you laughed nervously and played with your hair—now you know who is the annoying girl asking for extras. Sorry.

—No, no, it’s fine, y/n… if I can call you that.

—Yeah, I have no problem…—you looked for the barista’s name tag—Taehyung, if I can call you that.

—Go ahead, it sounds good when you say it—he winked.

Yoongi had heard it all and to say he was mad is an understatement. He had half moons in the palm of his hands due to the pressure he was applying. Why was that Taehyung guy flirting with you so shamelessly? And more importantly, why were you allowing it? It always happened, people flirted with you and you never seem to be aware of it. You were nice to everyone, a total cutie. He didn’t even noticed when you walked up to him and bumped his shoulder with the cup of the beverage he ordered.

—You ready, Yoongs?

—Mhm.

—Okay! Next stop: the library to study—you interlocked your arm with his and started marching childishly. You stopped abruptly when you noticed your boyfriend wasn’t following along with your little antics and you pouted—. Are you mad, babe?

—No—he lied and turned his head to give his drink a sip.

—Liar.

—Come on, y/n, let’s get to the library.

You didn’t want to push it so you kept in silence for the rest of the walk. When you finally reached your destination, you went to the second floor of the library, where your “secret spot” was. This was in between some large bookshelves at the far left corner of the building, the exact opposite to the stairs. No one ever approached there so it was perfect. You sat on the floor, with your legs crossed in front of you, got your backpack off your shoulders and took out the inhumane amount of books you had to read to prepare for your exam. Yoongi did exactly the same, except that he did it more aggressively and in silence. You were taken aback.

—Yoongi, honey, is something wrong?

—I’ve told you I’m fine, y/n. It’s nothing.

—Babe, if there’s something making you mad, is better that you tell me what it is. We can find a solution together—you placed down your cup on the floor and surrounded his hands with yours.

—It’s just that I saw you with that barista and…

—Taehyung?—Yoongi huffed.

—Awww, babe, it’s fine. Taehyung was just being friendly.

—Extremely flirty, I’d say.

—Oh he was not!

—Of course he was! You should’ve seen how he looked at you! He was totally hitting on you, don’t try to tell me he wasn’t.

—Okay, maybe he was being a little overly chummy. But it is because it’s his job. Almost everyone working at Starbucks is kind and amiable.

—And does their job include winking and smirking to customers?

—He wasn’t flirting with me, Yoongi.

—Whatever. Let’s study—he said dryly, opening his textbook.

—No, hold on, I don’t want to leave it like this. Look at me—you cupped his face in your hands and looked at him warmly in the eyes—. Yoongi, honey, even if Taehyung were flirting with me, I wouldn’t care. You’re my boyfriend and I love you more than you could imagine. There’s no one else. So stop it ‘cause I ain’t looking at no one else. I only have eyes for you. And if you don’t believe it, I’ll smack your head with this thick ass book until it sinks in—you frowned and grabbed your biggest textbook, threatening him. He laughed.

—Oh come here, baby—he took your hands and made you sit in his lap.

He grabbed your chin and kissed you slowly. The kiss was warm and tasted like coffee, you loved it. His hands caressed your cheek and brushed your hair. It was so sweet and mellow.

—If you kiss me like this and tell me such nice things every time I get jealous, I’ll make sure to do it more often—he laughed making his adorable gummy smile visible.

—God, you’re such a dummy—you rolled your eyes and giggled.

—You know I love you and fear losing you, right?

—I do—you ran your hand through his hair and looked at him fondly—. And you know I love you too and will never go away from your side, right?

—I do—his voice was almost a whisper. He kissed you one more time—. Let’s get to study, come on, I don’t want to fail the exam.

—Ugh, do we really have to?—you said putting your head on his shoulder defeated.

—If you don’t want to fail the whole semester, yes.

—Can’t you give me a better motivation?

—Mmm… if you pass your exam, I promise to take you on a date to the new botanical garden that opened last week.

—Ooh are you for real? Start planning it, I’m gonna crush that mother effing exam!—you both laughed and someone shushed you—. I promised I’ll pass it—you remarked whispering.

—Yeah, yeah, start reading, we still need to study a lot.

—Yessir!

—But first…—he gave you a quick peck—I needed a little motivation too—he shrugged with a smirk.

—Idiot.

[bi-writes]

the light in our eyes — mob!tom

a notorious extra

I haven’t always been this way; there was a time when nothing mattered but the stars.

type: one-shot, alternate universe detail: mob!tom x fem!reader word count: 4k  warnings: mature language and themes series masterlist

The sound of rain was familiar. It pitter-pattered against the windowpane, a kind of quiet that drew in the need for something warm. You didn’t feel needy for long. After a few silent, cold moments, you felt a rough hand slide up your side, fingers brushing your hair away from your neck, cool lips on the soft skin where your neck and jaw met. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, but then those fingers wrapped around the base of your throat, drawing your head back, and you let those lips kiss your own.

Your tongue slipped out from between your lips, and that was when your heard that airy, husky, warm chuckle sound in your ears. You shivered at the sound, feeling that rough hand creep up the back of your shirt, up your bare spine, caressing the place between your shoulder blades, pushing now to draw your body closer to their own. When you opened your eyes, there he was, in all of his glory. Tom Holland, with a wicked grin on that sinful mouth and a light in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“What time is it?” You asked against his lips, and he let out a sigh, his curls flopping over his forehead.

“Half past two, love.”

“What?!”

You sat up quickly, realizing now that you were still wearing your clothes from the day before. Jeans, a t-shirt, and you still had your heels on, your gun tossed haphazardly beside you. You took in Tom’s appearance, his suit jacket thrown onto the back of your vanity chair. His dress shirt was still on, but you noticed specks of blood along the collar of his shirt now, bright against the white of the fabric. You ran your fingers over the blood, smoothing your hand up his jaw and around his neck, and he stared up at you with those lovely dark eyes. You shook your head at him.

“What happened?” You asked. “Why…Why didn’t you call me, Tom? I’ve been…I’ve been waiting, I was worried sick.”

“Got a little sidetracked, but it’s all well and over now,” he said simply. You scoffed a bit, glaring down at him.

“Whose blood is this, Tom?”

“Not mine.”

“I’m not going to fucking ask again,” you said darkly, and Tom let out a frustrated breath through his nose. He sat up against the headboard, loosening the tie around his neck.

“Another Petrov.”

You rolled your eyes angrily at the sound of another Russian name. Being in London only made it easier for your international adversaries to watch you. Not just watch you; they did watch, but they listened for you, found you, made empty grabs at you. You relied on your instincts more than ever now, and you found yourself again and again grateful for always having one hand on your gun and always taking a glance over your shoulder. There were more times than not that you managed to slip away from someone’s angry eyes, from the barrel of their gun, from the blade hiding up their sleeves.

It wasn’t easy for you, and even worse for Tom. He made it a point for you to stay home, away from public, away from open streets, crowds, people. It was too easy to hide in London’s dark corners, and he found it difficult to focus on you and business at the same time, so he had resorted to hiding you away. You had agreed at first after one too many close calls, but now you were itching to get out, to help him, to do anything except sit in this house and be nothing more of a burden.

“Tom,” you said softly, “no more. I’m not…I’m not going to stay here anymore. Not after this.”

You kicked your heels off, grabbing your gun and putting it on the bedside table, opening the drawer to put it away. You sat on the edge of the bed, shaking your head adamantly.

“I’m sick of this shit, Tom,” you said firmly, slamming the drawer shut, standing up. You turned around to face him, and he was taking his tie off, saying nothing but scrunching his nose angrily and clenching that sharp jaw of his. “Did you hear me?!” You grabbed the pillow and threw it at him, hitting him square in the face. He pushed it off of him angrily, grimacing. “I’m not staying here anymore while you risk your fucking life. I’m sick of these people, and I should’ve taken care of it a long time ago.”

You rummaged through the drawers of your dresser, grabbing a pair of black pants and tossing them onto the bed. You took your jeans off, tossing them onto the floor.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tom asked suddenly. “Get back in bed, y/n.”

“Fuck you, Tom,” you snapped, slipping the pants on, grabbing your thigh holster off the desk of your vanity. Tom stood up, coming towards you. You stiffened as he grabbed the holster, snatching it out of your hands and tossing it behind him. You turned to face him, your eyes meeting, and you could feel an angry heat rising up in your chest.

Tom was easy to meet that heat. He stood up straighter, his face stoic and hard, and he felt his own body quickly build with a frustration that had him biting back all the things he wanted to say to you. Tom had to do this a lot. While he could lash out at his men whenever he wanted, it wasn’t the same with you. As soon as he raised his voice, he knew you would have him on the floor. You had done that once before, when he had done something reckless. He had yelled at you, and you had shown him just how careful he had to be when he spoke to you. You had said something about respect, but it was enough for Tom to never dare raise his voice at you again.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Tom growled, reaching up to grab your chin. You smacked his hand away before he could touch your face, and when he tried with the other hand, you swiped the blade out of your belt and held it up to his chin. Tom knew you wouldn’t hurt him, but he wasn’t completely comfortable with the position, nonetheless.

“I’ll go where I please,” you said defiantly. For a moment, Tom could feel a swell of pride rise up in his chest. You didn’t back down for anything, and he admired how strong and confident you could be. Even like this, angry and disobedient, he thought you couldn’t get any more beautiful; but he couldn’t let you leave, not alone, not at this hour, and certainly not without a plan.

He brought his arm up suddenly to take the blade off his neck, but you moved to the side too quickly, lifting your foot up and kicking in the back of his knee, bringing Tom straight to his knees. You dropped the knife as he grabbed your waist, moving to bring you down onto the floor with him. You grunted as he had you on your back in seconds, and you could sense he was about to trap you against the floor. You rolled out from under him before he could, catching his head between your thighs and crossing your ankles, using the last of your strength to squeeze his neck between them, rendering him completely slack as he tried to breathe. Normally, Tom would kill to have his head between your thighs, but this wasn’t exactly romantic.

You kept squeezing, watching as Tom’s entire face became red as he tried to breathe, coughing out uncontrollably as you slowly choked him. Finally, you heard his hand smacking the floor repeatedly as he tapped out, and you let go of him. Tom fell onto his side onto the floor, letting out wheezing breaths and coughs as he tried to recover, and you stood up, blowing hair out of your face as you went to retrieve the thigh holster he had thrown across the bedroom.

You did feel a little bad to see your husband gasping for air on your account, but you were sick of him telling you what to do, keeping you hidden away while he unsuccessfully tried to take care of your problems.

“Bloody hell, y/n,” Tom croaked, standing up finally. He rubbed the back of his neck, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as you dropped your gun into its place around your thigh, grabbing your jacket and fitting it on, zipping it up securely. “No, fuck, y/n, you’re not…you’re not going anywhere.”

You laughed a bit, bitterly, “try me, Tom. You won’t win.”

You met his eyes in the mirror as you adjusted your hair, narrowing your own at him, as if daring him to try and stop you again. He swallowed hard, shaking his head. You sighed a bit, watching him massage his sore muscles. You turned around to face him, coming towards him, and you cupped both of his cheeks in your palms, bringing his head up gently. The rain was falling harder, and the way the moonlight danced across his features made you admire him more a bit more carefully, taking the time to appreciate the gentle features of his face.

“I know why you want to stop me,” you said lowly. “But I’m tired of letting them get to us, Tom. It’s me they’re after, and you’re the one that’s trying to fix things. You can’t do this by yourself, I thought…I thought we said we weren’t going to do things alone anymore, Tom.”

“Then why are you going, love?” He asked gently, scrunching his face a bit painfully. “You don’t even have a plan, and you’re going to go and do what? Barge in there? Kill them all?”

“If that’s what I have to do.”

“You and I both know how bloody foolish that is,” he murmured, and you closed your eyes a bit, lowering yourself slowly, taking a seat in his lap. You leaned your forehead against his, your lips trembling as you tried to listen to the gentle breaths coming in and out of him.

“W-What else am I supposed to do, Tom? God, we just got our fucking lives back, and…it never ends,” you said weakly, nuzzling your nose against him. He brought his hand up, cupping the back of your neck, and he guided your lips to his, kissing you warmly.

“This city is all over the place,” he mumbled. “I just…I needed you to stay here while I sorted things out. I can’t handle the people here if I’m always looking over my shoulder, worrying about you—”

“Tom,” you opened your eyes. “You and I both know I can take care of myself.”

“That’s not enough,” he said lowly. “They had the upper hand on you every bloody time, and the only reason you got out of those fucking situations was because you happened to be vigilant, but what happens when you’re not?”

“Tom, I never let my guard down.”

“We all do, y/n, and when you finally do, that’s when they’ll fucking come for you, and I can’t—” He stopped, gripping the back of your neck tightly, shaking his head. “I can’t protect you all the time. I just can’t, and it kills me inside.”

“Tom,” you said slowly, pulling back just a bit. “You’re going to have to trust me. You’re going to have to trust that when you can’t protect me, I can protect myself. You know I can, Tom, there’s…there’s no reason to worry.”

Tom didn’t agree. As you spoke gently, memories flashed in his head, memories of you. He thought of you that one night, the night you first allowed him to put his hands on you, the night you first let him having a taste, a touch, a drop of you. He remembered the way your eyes had been so dim, so dark, with nothing but fear and regret inside of them. He remembered how you cried, how you held onto him, how you talked about being scared. He remembered feeling defeat, feeling nothing but guilt, for not being able to protect the woman he felt everything for. He had vowed to himself, to you, that he would never put you in danger again.

It haunted him still.

“I worry,” Tom muttered. “I worry, y/n, and there’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind. Because if I stop worrying, then…then…”

You slid your hand into his curls, touching them gently as you leaned down and kissed him again, slowly at first. Then, your hands found purchase on his taut chest, pushing him down gently as you climbed over him. Your thighs on eighter side of his hips, your forearms caging his head, you kissed warmly, bodies pressed close together as he held you tight. One of his hands slid up the expanse of your back while the other traveled up your thigh. You didn’t feel heat or passion in his kiss; you felt apprehension, terror, uneasiness. Tom was afraid, and you could feel every ounce of it in the way he touched you, talked to you, breathed against you. Tom was never good with words, but his eyes could tell stories and his touch could make you feel a million feelings all at once.

That was Tom. Tom, the dangerous, terrifying man with enough power to overthrow governments, had a weakness, and it was always you, and it was always his words. He could command a room, an army, he could convince priests that he was without sin, but he was dumbfounded, speechless, absolutely silent when it came to the woman he loved more than he loved himself.

You.

You, you, always you, the single human being on this entire planet that had him overthinking every move and doubting all of his instincts. Tom was incredibly calculated, planned everything down to the very last detail, but suddenly, with you, he would forget it all. You made his stoic heart feel something, feel more than nothing, and Tom had forgotten what love was like for so long. He had it now, he held it in his arms, he held it so close to his fucking heart, and he would be damned if he lost it.

If I lose you, I lose myself. Maybe it’s selfish, maybe it’s cruel, but I would chain to you this bed if it meant I got to feel this, all the time, never ending, for all of eternity.

Tom loving anything was surreal because Tom Holland loved truly nothing except for himself. But with you, somehow with you, his love was endless, stretching across the vast nothingness he felt inside of him and swallowing him whole until he felt nothing but a deep, burning, hungry warmth. There was something inside of him that came alive, that became human, and he thought, for just a few seconds, that maybe God would forgive the red on his ledger and the deep, gaping wounds he left in his wake. He thought, when you kissed, that perhaps heaven was real because that was the only explanation for the intense, blinding feeling that overcame him when your lips touched.

And even when the light fades, and even when the feelings go away, she’s still here, she’s still beautiful, and I still love her because even when the world is without color, without life, blurry, she is still here, vivid, perfect, and I am still speechless.

“You have to trust me.”

Your voice came out angelic, light, a breeze filled with leaves the color of love. Your hand came up, your fingertips spreading across his face, soft and gentle, and Tom found himself in a lull of your doing as you kissed his face, held him, drew him in.

“I do trust you. It’s everyone else I don’t bloody trust.”

Cheek against cheek, Tom could feel your breath against his ear, warm and sweet.

“I love you, Tom.”

That was all you had to say, because Tom’s head was filled with nothing but paradise, and your words only made him breathe easier.

“I love you, too, darling.”

It had been a long time since Tom ever had to wait. Men in power didn’t wait. Everything came to them, fell at their feet, and all he had to do was snap their fingers, wave their hand, open their mouth and simply speak.

But Tom had to wait, for you, and it made him uneasy. Without the intoxication of your scent, your kisses, the soft way you said, “I love you,” Tom was left to think, and he thought too much when it came to you.

The last time Tom had to think, he was small. The last time Tom had to think, Tom had light in his eyes. There was a gentleness to his touch, a sweetness to his voice, and he had a smile big enough to light up a stage.

He remembered how that felt. He remembered how hot it would get when he stood up on stage with the spotlight shining down on him. He remembered how the wood underneath him would bounce and creak as he jumped, he remembered the feel of the stage curtains when he would come in and out of the wings, he remembered the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him, the sounds of their cheers, the vibrations of their applause.

I remember when they would throw roses at my feet, when they would fill the seats to watch me dance. I remember when I would become someone else for a single night, when I would live a life I dreamed of living and have my story always end with praise, applause, adoration.

Tom’s hand found its way to the bottom drawer of his desk, opening it. He pushed aside the papers and files, finding the crumpled picture hidden under it all. He dug it out, looking at it carefully. It was a smiling picture of his younger self, his teeth still crooked and his hair nothing but a mop of messy curls. He was standing on stage with a group of people he can barely recognize now, wearing a costume and stage makeup, flowers at their feet as they posed for the camera. He ran his thumb over that young boy’s face, touching his smile to see if that would make it feel more real.

I feel nothing. I feel nothing but empty.

That boy had no idea what would come for him. That boy had no idea that in just a few years, he would take up a mantle he never wanted, pick up weapons he never thought he would need, and see more blood than he ever believed he could. That boy had no idea his smile would never be the same; he had no idea that that was the last time he would grace the stage, stand in the spotlight, live in his dream.

Tom didn’t even realize he was crying until a tear fell onto the picture, bleeding into its colors and distorting the paper. He put the picture face down onto his desk, furiously wiping the tears under his eyes, feeling a gaping hole in his chest as he thought about who he used to be and what he used to want.

I don’t know who that is anymore. I don’t know who that is because he can’t be me. He can never be me.

Tom bent over, his elbows on his knees as he covered his face with his hands. Nothing could save the boy he used to be. Tom had buried that boy so deep down inside of him that he wouldn’t even know how far he would have to reach to even feel his presence. Tom had buried his dream, his passion, everything he ever wanted to become whoever he was now.

A killer, a sinner, a man without mercy.

When men like Tom looked in the mirror, they did not see the boys they used to be. The boys they used to be were cut out of them like a tumor and left to bleed out. There was no place for boys in the new world Tom had entered. There was no place for fear or for innocence, and Tom had left him behind long ago. In the mirror, he only saw himself; blood, anger, and the shell of a man that was supposed to be him.

Tom sat up suddenly, hearing the floorboards creak. It was you, standing in the doorway, the shoulders of your leather jacket wet with rain. Your hair was a bit damp, and besides a little bruise forming on your jaw, you were untouched, unscathed, perfectly okay. You took your gloves off slowly, coming into his study and shutting the door behind you.

“Is everything okay, Tom?”

You noticed the redness around his eyes, the way his face was sunken in and tired and uneasy. You came towards him, your heels sounding, and that was when you spotted the paper in front of him on the desk. You reached over to grab it, and Tom didn’t stop you. You turned it over, your eyes scanning over the picture.

You spotted Tom, easily identifiable. He looked so little, the shortest one of the group, and you smiled a bit when you noticed where the picture was taken. You remembered one of his brothers teasing Tom about being a performer, something about a stage, but you didn’t understand what they meant.

“It’s you,” you said softly. “Where was this?”

“I used to…perform,” was he all he said.

Tom had a faraway look in his eyes. You recognized that look because you had it in yourself sometimes. Thoughts about what if, maybe if, should have, could have, would have. You thought everyone in this business must have thought about everything before and wished they could be that vulnerable human again.

Everyone wishes they could still see the light in their eyes.

You took your jacket off, slowly wrapping an arm around Tom’s shoulders and sitting in his lap. He leaned back in his leather seat, holding you closer, and you took his hand in yours, playing with the ring on his finger. You leaned your head on his shoulder, still staring at the picture.

“Is that what you wanted to be?” You asked gently.

Tom was silent for a few minutes. The rain was still falling, hitting the windows with a familiar rhythm, and it filled the silence between the two of you as Tom thought about the boy he had forgotten.

“I wanted to be an actor,” he said finally. You put the picture down, meeting his eyes in the dark light of the room. The sun had yet to come up, but it was in these hours of the mornings that you felt Tom the most.

“You would’ve been…” You let out a sigh, shaking your head, “Tom, you would’ve been…an incredible actor,” you said in a whisper.

He found your gaze when you said that, blinking, his eyes watering a bit. The genuine love in your voice, the hope, it was all he needed to feel that love swell in his chest again and consume him. He no longer hated that feeling, no, he welcomed it, and as you came closer to him to kiss him, he held onto you tightly, too scared to let go.

Because when we are together, I can remember what it feels like to have light inside of me.

So Tom held onto you.

And I will never let you go.

[rosewater-chlxe]

matter of time | ashton irwin

✖ Summary: After a reckless night of finally leaving your toxic relationship, you roamed the street searching for some kind of hope. That’s when you stumbled across a car with a certain hazel-eyed stranger and took a chance; throughout a now much warmer moment in time, you learned his name: Ashton. 

✖ genre ; fluff, comfort, angst (happy ending)

✖ warnings ; mention of abuse/manipulation

✖ requested - yes | no

a/n: this is heavily inspired by ‘drive’ & matter of time (interlude) on superbloom, and written for comfort <3

masterlist

The sound of your apartment door slamming felt almost relieving, yet somehow still reckoning in your blur of a mind; as every memory started flashing like headlights in the corners of your head, your vision became less and less useful. Those saltwater tears falling from your cluttered eyelashes started hitting the cold pavement below you as you felt a piece of you shatter within each step you took. 

You checked the time on your phone, 2am. 12 unread texts, 4 unanswered calls. You wanted to run, but where would you go? You wanted to drop the phone held in your hand and make the screen unreadable. You wanted to take a flight back home, but with what cash, with what luggage? 

The words that terrible, monstrous man had spoken echoed in your ears like a broken record; Your now ex-boyfriend. 

After all that time of him telling you that you aren’t good enough; that you need to listen to his every single syllable, every dreadful sentence he dare spoke, you finally left. All of that heartache and rage for what? Every night alone, every day stuck in his shadow, only as a silhouette; every time you looked in the mirror to see nothing but shades of violet, yellow and blue on your skin. Every single breath you took was held in, and now your lungs aren’t sure of how to handle all of the fresh air. 

You didn’t have your mind set on moving to California, but that night terror of a man made every single decision. You wanted nothing more than to take a breather and sit at your actual home for a while before the move, but it was almost instant. The apartment with him was never a home; barely a living space.  

The street you walked upon was empty of people; only houses with their lights off. Quickly you noticed a car behind you, playing music at the loudest volume. The car pulled into the driveway ahead of you; there were two people left in the car, but only one left the front passenger seat. A dark haired man wearing a green hoodie with the word ‘empathy’ written on the front entered the house as the car backed out of the driveway once more. 

Though when the car backed out, the driver waited. You cautiously continued walking and as you were about to pass the car, the passenger seat window rolled down all the way. You stopped and looked in to see a stranger with the kindest smile you had ever laid your eyes upon; the man had dark, wavy, medium length hair and hazel eyes. He was dressed in a satin, black button down shirt with black jeans that had rips near his knees. 

You were timid and incredibly cautious as you took a quick look around in his car, searching for any warning signs or red flags; you found not a single one. You glanced at the paused song on what was most likely his playlist. Lullaby by The Cure. 

Finally, as the man before you speaks, you snap out of your own thoughts. 

“I apologize if I seem like some creepy lingerer, but I seen you walking by yourself and it’s 2am,” he spoke, “are you okay?” he questioned with a kind, welcoming tone. You watched his eyes glance at the tear stains covering your cheeks, and you noticed his eyebrows slightly furrow. 

“My name is Ashton by the way, and It’d be no problem to take you where you need to go,” he said followed by a small pause, “though if it would make you more comfortable I can call my friend Sierra to help,” he finished. 

Your exterior softened as you realized you had no reason to even have the smallest concern about this so-called Ashton, realizing he’s a genuine person just by the few sentences he’s said to you. 

“Are you sure? I could just walk by myself, I’m sure you need to get home-” you questioned before he quickly interrupted, 

“Positive. I wouldn’t want anyone wandering the streets of California this late, hop in!” he enthusiastically answered, making sure you felt as if you could trust him. 

You entered the car, feeling more comfortable than you ever had in the apartment though you were next to someone you had never met before. The aroma in the car was coming from Ashton himself, his cologne so vibrant in scent that in lingered wherever he was; your senses were filled with the smell of dozens of flowers in the sunshine during the summer. The scent was the first thing that had given your soul warmth for what felt like the first time in years. 

“Thank you for being so kind, it truly does mean the world to me,” you said to him in a genuine tone with a sigh of relief, “I’m Y/N.” 

“What might you be up to walking around here at 2am, Y/N?” he asked as you watched him turn his right turn signal on, glancing over you with a slight smile. 

“That’s a very long, dreadful story,” you said with a hint of bitterness and forced laughter, still being sweet as you smiled at him. 

He smiled with a bit of sorrow in his eyes, realizing something bad must have happened. He studied your facial expression and body language for any signs to find a light, almost unnoticeable bruise on your wrist as well as your timidly fingers dancing upon one another when he asked; he had a slight frown as you fidgeted. 

“I don’t know what happened and I’m sure it’s none of my business, but I’d like you to know that you aren’t alone though it may feel that way. It’s the sappy shit everyone says and I don’t know if you wanna hear it, but it does get better with time. You just gotta give it a chance y’know?” he said to you in now a more calming, comforting tone. 

You felt tears well up in your eyes once more, not remembering what this kindness felt like; it was completely unfamiliar to you, yet it made you feel like you were home. 

“Thank you, Ashton. You’re a very lovely human being,” you said to him with a soft smile, “to sum up the entire thing, I have- had been with someone who wasn’t the best, or wasn’t really good at all to me for way longer than I should’ve been. People always underestimate how hard it can be to leave situations like that.” 

He let out a soft sigh as he stopped at the red light in front of you; he tapped on the steering wheel as he thought carefully of what to say. He adjusted his bracelet before turning to face you; it was dark, so he decided not to comment on the outline of tears falling from your cheeks. 

“I know that what happened in the amount of time you were with him couldn’t have been easy, probably quite difficult -- and though you don’t deserve going through what you did nor should it have happened, painful lessons can be the perfect tool to grow; to proceed to the next better chapter of your life.” He said to you, truly believing what he was saying rather than just telling you things for reassurance. 

You could almost feel the liquid gold that flooded through his veins; the flowers that bloomed in his lungs as he took each breath. Those raven curls fell perfectly along his forehead and right above his eyes, creating such a highly-saturated feeling as you lingered in his atmosphere. 

“You’re a beautiful person,” you accidentally let out the repeating sentence in your head, “I mean you’re very sweet,” you attempted to fix your slip up through clumsily placed stutters. 

Ashton chuckled with a bright smile on his face, and you could feel every sunbeam exuding from his emotions. His hazel eyes were the softest you’d ever seen, yet they had such potential to be utmost intimidating. 

“I think you’re admirable as well, Y/N,” he replied with the sweetest of honey in his tone.

As he pulled into his driveway, reality set in once again. He carefully studied your reactions to see any hesitance or uneasiness.

“Remember, if you aren’t comfortable staying at my place, Sierra lives a few streets away and it wouldn’t be a bother at all to take you there,” he warmly reminded you. 

“You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met, I promise I’m comfortable; you are, right?” You responded with a small smile, awaiting his reply.

“Of course,” he nodded, getting out of the car and opening your door. 

When you finally entered the well-lit home, you noticed a variety of things: the instruments, the little vintage musical references scattered along the walls, the open notebook sitting on the coffee table; every little trinket revealing more of his personality. You also finally got a more in-detail look of his features. You noticed his tattoos, and as you closely examined each one you yearned knowing the story behind them; you took note of his laid-back demeanor and the smooth ways in which he carried himself. 

“You’re a songwriter?” You questioned, hoping your analysis was correct.

“I am actually, more of a drummer though,” he joked, making you let out a light laugh. “Would you like anything to drink or eat? I can grab some more comfortable clothes for you if you’d like?” he considerately asked, giving you a warm smile.

“I would love that, thank you so much; and a water would be great,” you timidly replied, tapping the ends of your fingertips nervously.

“Of course, is there anything else you need? Do you wanna talk about anything?” he asked in a very sweet, quiet tone as he noticed your anxiety.

“Thank you so much, I’m honestly just really exhausted,” you stated, knowing you were actually quite awake; you just needed to let everything out alone as always.

“I understand darling, there’s a spare bedroom upstairs -- I’ll go get the clothes, just make yourself at home,” he kindly said to you, internally questioning your stability. He noticed every single flinch and facial expression of sorrow; this, let alone, filled him with devastation.

You made your way up the stairs, passing photographs on the wall of him and three other men; one of them being the man you seen get out of his car earlier that night. You faintly heard Ashton open the fridge and grab a water, knowing he’d be coming up with you soon. You stopped your curious gazing and entered the spare bedroom; It was mostly empty with a few light decorations, a nightstand, a dresser, and a bed with pale green, silk sheets. You sat down and patiently awaited his arrival, looking down at your swaying legs. 

You heard his light footsteps as he entered the room with a small smile on his face, handing you cozy clothing and a water; he gave you an oversized, black hoodie and grey sweatpants. The clothes smelled of his cologne, which brought you some sort of unexplainable comfort. 

“If you need absolutely anything, I’ll be right downstairs, okay? Have a lovely sleep, sweet dreams,” he softly spoke, leaving the room and carefully shutting the door behind him. 

As quickly as the door closed, tears began to overflow in your eyes; streams of the coldness you felt in your once known monster’s arms went down your cheeks like rivers. The ache in your chest felt like no other; you felt empty and severely heavy at the same time. The room was silent, but the static in your body became blaringly and deafeningly loud. You wanted to scream so hard that your vocal cords would no longer make a sound, and by the silent sobs you produced it was almost as if you did. 

Then it stopped. 

The static stopped playing, and you were brought back to the moment you were in rather than the past; you heard faint acoustic guitar strings that sounded like a home you’d never felt. You heard singing, but the lyrics through the walls weren’t as clear as you wanted. You heard the raindrops from outside mixed with Ashton’s honey-drenched voice, and that let alone turned every single tear filled with sorrow into softly spilled tears of rosewater. 

You sat up from the now wet pillow, and changed into the clothing he offered you. You carefully opened the bedroom door and sat down on one of the stairs, listening from just the wall keeping the two of you distanced. 

He sang,

“From the ground up, don't you burn it down Everybody's got the chance to turn it around Rebuild it like a vase, or a shattered crown Dive into the ocean and you'll never drown Darkness shows up, don't you let it grow The light will shine in, then your heart will know That all of these things That cause us pain inside Will come and go When the roses bloom and the record don't scratch Close your eyes, don't you ever look back Painful lessons are a perfect tool Schools in session and the number one rule  It’s all just a matter of time,”

after he finished the last few lines, he set down the guitar and wrote down the last few words he sang in his notebook. At this time, you were now leaning against the doorframe admiring his every thought being expressed through the look in his hazel eyes. 

“You’re very talented,” you softly spoke not to startle him; though still, for a second, he had wide eyes as he glanced up at you. 

“I thought you were asleep,” he lightly laughed, “I’m sorry if I’ve waken you.” 

“Not at all,” you smiled to quickly reassure his concerns, “I’m exhausted, but I don’t think sleep is an option,” you admitted; “Honestly, the most calming thing I’ve heard in years is what I just did.”

You watched as the heat on his face began to match your own; suddenly, an idea came to his head.

“I hope this isn’t crossing a boundary or anything, but if you’d like, you could lay down next to me? I mean, I could continue if you’d want that.” He timidly asked, looking for any hesitance in your demeanor. All he seen was a glimpse of hope in your eyes as you joined him on the sofa. 

You laid your head down on the opposite side, almost curling up into a ball. As he started playing the first few notes and singing the opening lyrics, you already felt yourself peacefully drift off into sleep. You felt safe. You felt warm, and secure. The newness of every single little feeling in your heart made it’s way to every corner of your body as you had your last conscious thoughts.  

A few minutes after Ashton realized you had fallen asleep, he couldn’t resist the sweet smile spreading across his face. He softly set the guitar down and grabbed the blanket laying on the couch, covering you up with it. He placed a gentle kiss on your head and started walking out of the room, but stopped when he reached the doorframe.

He turned around once more and sighed to himself. He glanced at the staircase then back at you; he shook his head in disbelief of his emotions, and laid down with you. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N.” 

-

fin. 

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

The Couch Part Two - Stiles Stilinski x Reader

(gif source)

Summary: Stiles attempts to make amends after forgetting his wedding anniversary plans with y/n.

Word Count: 2391

Warnings: angst, tooth-rotting fluff, and probably three curse words (i know i’m so vulgar)

a/n: hi! here’s the long-awaited part two of The Couch, thank you for being patient with me! if you haven’t read that yet, i’d strongly recommend it. you can find it linked below. i hope you enjoy!

part one | masterlist

“I know, I know. I should’ve let him out there by himself, taught him a lesson or whatever… But, I don’t know… I can’t sleep without him next to me, you know?” y/n tried to explain rather pathetically. Kira sat across from her on the couch, a sympathetic smile on her face as she nodded. y/n rubbed a hand over her face tiredly and sighed. “Thanks for having me over. I needed to get out of my apartment after everything that happened last night,” y/n exhaled. Kira suddenly perked up and sat her wine glass down. Before y/n could ask anything Kira was rummaging around for the TV remote.

“I know what’ll make you feel better,” she grinned.

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” y/n chuckled. Kira turned on the TV and after pressing a series of buttons the screen displayed a young Kristen Stewart clinging to a very pale Robert Pattinson. “Oh no, not Twilight,” y/n laughed, shaking her head at Kira.

“Oh yes. You always laugh at the facial expressions the actors make and the supernatural inaccuracy. We’re watching it, you miserable thing,” Kira retorted. y/n rolled her eyes as a small smile spread across her face. An hour into the movie and several laughs later, the girls heard the front door open and Scott slipping off his boots in the connected hallway.

“Hey babe, y/n is here,” Kira called out, only briefly turning away from the screen. Despite her initial reservations, y/n was now completely engrossed in the movie.

“Oh, good,” he called back. His comment caught the attention of both of the girls and y/n turned towards Kira, quirking an eyebrow upwards. Shortly after they heard another set of footsteps and someone murmuring quietly. Kira, having the best view of the hallway from her position on the couch, leaned backwards to see who had entered her home.

“Ahh,” she hummed as she turned to face y/n once again, confusion still painted on her friend’s face. “Your hubby is here,” Kira whispered. y/n pressed her lips into a thin line. Though she could never be upset to see her husband, she was still pretty ticked off about him forgetting about their dinner reservations.

Stiles was slipping off his shoes in the hallway when Kira had called back that y/n was over at the apartment. His blood ran cold for a moment. He knew that he was 100% still in the dog house, y/n had been giving him the silent treatment all day aside from when she said goodbye as she left their apartment far earlier than normal that morning. By the time Stiles and Scott turned the corner and made their way to the living room y/n had turned back to the TV, staring straight ahead and ignoring everything around her. Sensing the tension rolling off of y/n in waves, Scott turned to Kira, making worried eye contact. Nodding in understanding, Kira glanced between the couple and cleared her throat.

“Scott and I are gonna, uh, walk the dog,” Kira rushed out, grabbing Scott’s hand and pulling him out the front door. After the door shut loudly, signally their friends’ departure, a tense silence hung in the air for a few moments. It became clear that y/n had no intention of speaking first so Stiles cleared his throat. Before he could begin y/n began giggling before erupting into full-blown laughter.

“They don’t have a dog. Not as a pet anyways… did she really just call her fiancé a dog?” she wheezed out between giggles. Stiles became slightly alarmed at her drastic switch in mood, but what scared him more was the fact that she still hadn’t looked at him, just like last night. After her laughter had died down to a gentle chuckle he opened his mouth to speak again.

“Can we- can we talk?” he pleaded, a desperate look in his eyes. Another beat of silence passed before y/n gave him a small nod before turning around to finally look at him. Despite the solid night of sleep he had with y/n in his arms, Stiles had bags under his eyes and worry lines etched across his face from the immense guilt he was feeling. y/n again found herself pitying him despite everything within her that told her not to. Damn his stupid puppy dog eyes.

“I just- I’m, I- Jesus, y/n, I’m so sorry,” Stiles croaked out. y/n swallowed thickly as she watched him silently. She hated seeing him upset and right now he looked like he was about to break down. “I would never, never, have stood you up on purpose. I’ve been beating myself up since the moment I got home last night,” he paused to take a breath and before he could begin again y/n spoke quietly.

“I know,” she murmured, meeting his watery eyes. She cleared her throat before she continued. “I know that you wouldn’t have done it on purpose. I know you’re so mad at yourself that you can’t think straight. I know you’re probably hurting more than me. I know you care so much that you feel like your heart is going to burst. I know you,” she finished, a few tears of her own brimming in her eyes by the end. Stiles let out a shaky breathe as y/n held out her hand. He quickly but gently grabbed it as if she would disappear at any moment.

“I will make this up to you, I promise,” he whispered as he stepped closer to her. A small smile grew on y/n’s face as she nodded and stood up from the couch.

“I know you will,” she said quietly before stepping in front of him and wrapping her arms around his waist. Stiles was momentarily shocked, still slightly in a daze from the fact that she was willing to hold his hand. When he snapped out of it, he pulled her close against him with one arm around her waist and a hand resting gently on her head as he placed a soft kiss against her hair. Stiles squeezed her tight once more before he whispered a soft but firm “I love you” into y/n’s ear. She smiled warmly against his chest before pulling back and looking up into his eyes.

“I love you too,”

After Stiles and y/n had left Kira and Scott’s place (“Thanks for giving me my apartment back, buddy,” Scott jabbed as Stiles passed on his way out.) they drove home in their separate cars. On the drive over Stiles had been formulating a plan in his mind, so the moment they pulled into their side-by-side parking spaces, Stiles ran around to open y/n’s door for her. Before she could tease him with her typical “what a gentleman” comment he began talking with a wildly excited look in his eyes.

“Go get dressed into that sexy dress from last night, I’m taking you out. I’ll be back in an hour” he rushed out before pecking her lips. He walked her up to their front door before spinning around on his heel and jogging back to their car. He had a lot to get done in one hour.

By the time Stiles returned to his and y/n’s apartment it had been exactly 57 minutes since he left. Though he had broken a sweat earlier from all his rushing around, he decided it would be even worse than it had been last night if he showed up late for their do-over. When he unlocked the front door with a large bouquet of red roses in hand, he heard music coming from their shared bedroom.

“I’m home!” he called out, just barely audible over the music. Stiles heard y/n knock something over and let out a string of expletives. He chuckled quietly to himself before she responded.

“Okay, I’ll be out in a few minutes!” she shouted over the sound of her hair dryer blowing.

“No rush, baby,” Stiles replied as he turned to the mirror in the hallway. He’d cleaned up pretty decently considering he’d changed into the clothes he’d packed for last night and fixed his hair in the grocery store bathroom. When he heard the same floorboard from last night creak under y/n’s shoe he turned to look at her. She looked absolutely gorgeous. She was wearing just a little bit of makeup, not that she needed it, and she’d styled her hair into delicate curls that framed her face beautifully. When Stiles saw her dress he mentally kicked himself for the umpteenth time that day, this time for missing out on the chance to see his wife all dressed up last night. The red silk hugged her body just right, perfectly accentuating all of her features. Stiles’ mouth practically started watering as his eyes traced the slit in her dress that reached from her ankle to her mid-thigh. He finally looked up to meet her eyes and his face broke out into a big grin.

“You look so beautiful, baby,” he said lovingly as his eyes wandered up and down her figure once more. y/n giggled quietly to herself.

“I do try,” she replied sarcastically, a smile of her own making its way across her face as she took in her husband’s appearance and the fresh roses in his hand. He stood tall and he looked damn good. His work clothes had long since been abandoned, probably sitting in a crumpled pile in the back of his jeep. He wore a nice pair of black dress slacks, his derby shoes, a pressed maroon button up shirt, and a light grey tie. y/n’s black stilettos made clicking noises on the hardwood floors as she made her way over to him. She stood in front of him, giving him a short but sweet kiss before she began adjusting his tie. He watched as she worked, taking in the way the light bounced off of his mom’s wedding ring that now sat on her finger. Just as she finished, Stiles placed the roses on the nearby table and placed both hands on either side of her face as he pulled her towards him for a passionate kiss. When they finally broke apart to breathe Stiles rested his forehead against y/n’s.

“My mom would have loved you,” he murmured against her lips. Tears began to well in y/n’s eyes before she blinked them away. After the sweet moment was over y/n playfully swatted her husband’s chest.

“Ugh, Stiles, you can’t make me cry, my mascara is too expensive for that shit,” she said, mostly sarcastically. Stiles laughed before kissing her once more and grabbing her hand.

“To Roscoe we go!” he announced while pulling her out the door and holding her purse, jeep keys dangling precariously from the fingers of his same hand. y/n shook her head at Stiles’s antics while smiling.

After driving along the quiet road that threaded through the preserve for a good ten minutes Stiles pulled the jeep off to the side of the road. As much as y/n loved the preserve, she wasn’t too thrilled considering she wasn’t exactly in the proper attire.

“Babe, you know I love it here, but how the hell am I going to trudge through the forest in these stilettos?” she asked as she glanced at him sideways from the passenger seat. He hummed quietly to himself, pretending as though he hadn’t thought of that. He hopped out of his seat and ran around to the passenger’s side door to help her out. 

“Who said anything about walking?” he smirked while holding her hand as she carefully stepped out. Slightly confused and a little frustrated now, y/n began to speak again.

“Stiles, what are you-” she started to ask before squealing as he swept her off her feet to hold her bridal style. y/n started laughing as she squirmed in his hold. “Stiles! Put me down!” she giggled. Stiles rolled his eyes sarcastically before complying.

“Only because you asked nicely,” he carefully set her down on the leaf-covered soil before heading around to the back of the jeep. He pulled out a pair of sneakers he’d stolen from y/n’s closet and a picnic basket. They set out into the preserve after y/n had changed her shoes and walked for a few moments before reaching the cliff that overlooked Beacon Hills. y/n looked at the distant horizon, mesmerized as the sun began to set. 

While she was distracted Stiles began to pull apart the picnic basket, laying out a blanket and placing the food down on top. When y/n turned around she gasped, taking in the elaborate display behind her. The red hues on the blanket reminded her of the multitude of Stiles’s flannels that she’d stolen over the years and the candles he’d lit brought out the gold flecks in his eyes. Her eyes began to water again (for at least the third time that night) as she approached Stiles and sat down carefully on the blanket. She was sure they looked a little ridiculous, two twenty-somethings dressed to the nines in the middle of the woods having a picnic, but she couldn’t have cared less. The aroma of the food filled the air as Stiles opened up the boxes, causing y/n to moan quietly at the intoxicating smell. On further inspection, she noticed that the boxes had some printed writing on the side. 

“Is this… is this food from the new restaurant downtown?” she asked with disbelief. Stiles grinned proudly and nodded as he gestured to the food in front of him.

“Autentico!” he exclaimed in a terrible Italian accent. y/n giggled before launching herself at him, pulling him in for a bone crushing hug, being careful to avoid getting her dress in the food or candle flames. She pulled back a little after a moment, holding the back of his head as she pressed her lips against his. 

“I love you so much,” she murmured against his lazy grin.

“I love you more, baby. Happy anniversary,” he replied, pressing soft kisses down her jaw in between each word.

“Happy anniversary, Mieczyslaw.”

taglist: @linkpk88​ 

[evans713]

warm up / johnny storm

for @star-spangled-beard-burn seasons of fiction writing challenge 2020

author's note: dedicated to @sweater-daddiesdumbdork thank you for always being there for me, i love you💕

warnings: not edited; pure fluff; mentions of smut but nothing explicit; super BAD writing, you've been warned

"Johnny, no!" Y/N squealed as flame boy lifted her from her spot in the lounge chair. She had been talking to Sue and Alice about her news. She was excited and couldn't help but blush at the girls' playful teasing. Johnny admiring how happy and carefree she looked from the other side of the pool decided to help her cool down. Sue couldn't help but roll her eyes and was explaining to Alice what was happening, a warm smile gracing her lips.

"Oh, come on, princess." Johnny said as he had Y/N over his shoulder. "I think you need a bit of cooling down." He went as far as to touch underneath her butt, using his power a little as to prove his point.

Y/N's eyes widened at the suggestion and touching and started hitting his back. "Johnny, I swear-" She stopped when her vision was flipped. She closed her eyes briefly at the sudden change and found pretty blue eyes twinkling in her direction when she opened them again. "Don't you dare touch my butt again." She playfully threatened him.

"Oh, you mean..." His hands moved her legs around his waist and finally settled them on the back of her thighs, dangerously close to her bum. "Like this?"

Y/N narrowed her eyes. "Stop. Touching. Me." She softly ordered.

"Your request is my command, doll." Johnny smirked and Y/N realized her mistake a little too late. Next thing she knew, Y/N had been thrown in the pool. The cool water, although refreshing on her Johnny-warmed skin, left her in shock. She should've known Johnny would have done it regardless but she felt like a fool for asking him to stop touching her.

Johnny was laughing hysterically as she resurfaced for air. He was waiting for her to come up before jumping in with her. He just needed her to see him so she could try to run away from him. The cute faces she would always make at something he did or said were something he never wanted to miss.

"Johnny!"

"Yes, darling?" He came up to her and circled his arms around her waist.

Y/N didn't even know what to say to him and a traitorous smile started showing on her lips. "I hate you." She grumbled, making Johnny let out a heartfelt laugh.

"Sure you do, sugarplum." He whispered, pulling her closer to him.

Y/N circled her arms around his neck. "Yes, I do. You probably ruined my favorite dress." She whispered.

"You just looked too hot sitting there." The smirk etched on his lips told her he wasn't sorry at all. "I'm sorry, doll."

"No, you are not." Y/N scoffed.

"No, I'm not."

"You two don't think about coming inside the house until you're dry." Ben's booming voice startled both of them. "Alice doesn't want your wet butts in our house."

"Ben!" Alice exclaimed as Ben laughed and closed the door.

"He's such a party pooper." Johnny expressed as he looked back at Y/N. "What?" He asked at the glaring she was giving him.

"Don't 'what' me, Johnny. I didn't bring a spare change of clothes." She said.

"You got me, love." He said and dragged the both of them to the edge of the pool. Gently, he grabbed her hips and lifted her so she was sitting on the edge. "Don't move, sweet cheeks."

Y/N shook her head and chuckled at the nickname as she saw Johnny hoist himself out of the water. She groaned when he shook himself like a dog getting rid of the excess water, causing him to laugh some more at her predicament. "May I move now?" She asked sarcastically.

"You may, sweetness." He said and offered his hands to help her up. Johnny groaned when he saw the fabric of her dress sticking to her body and forced himself to look away.

"How come you are dry already?" Y/N asked as she took a towel from the lounge chairs.

"Uh, I-" Johnny stammered at the way she dried her neck and part of her breasts, the part that wasn't covered by the thin material of her dress. The material that was see-through and showed the cute pattern of her bra. The bra that was now cold and perked her-

"Johnny, you okay?" Her worried voice snapped him out of his thoughts and snapped his eyes away from her chest. His eyes widened when she came close to him and he tried very hard to keep his eyes from slipping down again. Something that could happen very easily due to her shorter height.

"I- I'm..." He cleared his throat. "I'm fine." He whispered when Y/N placed her palm on his forehead.

"Should I be worried?" She whispered and Johnny could've sworn that he could taste her on his lips.

Johnny cleared his throat and smirked. "What are you talking about, babe? You should know by now I'm always this hot." He smiled widely at the roll of her eyes but stopped when she shivered involuntarily. He took his plaid shirt off and felt pride when her eyes closed right after taking a peek at the singlet covering his abdomen. "You are always welcome to look, princess."

"Eh, I've seen better." Y/N grumbled as she tried to find somewhere to set her eyes onto that wasn't the skin of his broad shoulders.

"Oh, really?" Johnny moved his face closer to hers. Y/N nodded and he smirked. "Really, doll?"

Before Y/N could nod again, Johnny took the towel from her, making her squeal at the chill air nipping at her skin. "Johnny, it's freezing."

"Take that back and I'll give it back."

"Johnny!" She called after him as he began walking backwards.

"Take it back, baby."

"Johnny, please!"

"Take it back or I'll throw you in the pool again."

"Okay, okay, you are the best I've ever seen. Happy?"

"Ecstatic." Johnny smiled as he walked back towards her. "Take your dress off, love."

"W-what?" Y/N stuttered.

"I promise I won't peek." He said and then added. "A lot."

"Johnny." She warned.

"I promise I won't peek at all, now take it off, put my shirt on or you'll catch a cold." Johnny said sternly and created a little tent with the towel for Y/N to slip off her dress with no one watching her. She put the dress on his shoulder and quickly grabbed his shirt to put it on herself. She grabbed the towel from his hands and wrapped her hair with it.

When she looked back at Johnny, she was sure she was blushing but she relaxed when she noticed that he had closed his eyes and was waiting patiently for her. "You can open your eyes." She said softly.

Johnny opened his eyes and smiled warmly at her. "I won't ever be able to do that twisty thing you do with the towel." He chuckled and took in the rest of her. His shirt was a lot larger on her, reaching her mid thigh and he loved seeing her in his clothes. It was a sight he was sure he would never get tired of. And he didn't care if it took her forever to give him his shirts back or that his hoodies would mysteriously disappear, he would get a million just so he could see her wearing them.

"You won't be able to do the twisty thing because you are not that smart." Y/N teased.

"I could always throw you again into the water, baby."

"Don't you dare." She pointed her finger at him.

Johnny took her finger and brought her closer. "I won't if you sit with me for a bit." He said softly.

"Shouldn't we go inside? It's kind of freezing out here."

"You heard Ben, Alice doesn't want your wet self in her house." Johnny smirked.

"So convenient that you dry in five seconds, isn't it?" She grumbled as she sat with her back resting on his chest, his legs warm against hers.

"It is." Johnny chuckled. "Now, relax, babe. You'll love this." Y/N was confused for a moment as he brought his hand in front of her. She smiled when his fingers ignited a ball of flame on his palm. "Your very own bonfire." Johnny whispered in her ear, making Y/N shiver. She cleared her throat and put her hands near the small fire to warm them.

They spent a good half an hour together but for Johnny it felt like three seconds with her nestled against his chest. "Thank you, Johnny." Y/N moved her head so she was facing the side of his head and kissed his cheek, leaving a tingly sensation on his skin.

"You guys, dinner will be ready soon." Sue yelled from the kitchen door.

After letting Sue know they would be inside in a few, Y/N turned around to face Johnny. "Think you can dry my dress?" She wondered.

Johnny smirked. "Of course, doll." He leaned back on the chair and laid the dress over his chest. A few minutes and sadly for him, she would have to wear the damn dress again. His train of thought continued the more he stared at her drying her hair. But he was snapped when she made a cute sniffing face.

"Johnny Storm, you are burning my dress!" Y/N gasped, making Johnny take the piece of clothing and burning it further as he tried to put down the tiny flames.

"I'm sorry, doll, it must be a very delicate fabric. I didn't mean to." He apologized and Y/N closed her eyes in distress.

"Our parents are getting here soon and not only did you throw me in the water but you also burnt my outfit. What am I supposed to wear now?" She rambled, getting up from the chair and crossing her arms over her chest. Despite the reprimand he was getting, Johnny was enjoying the way his shirt rode up her thighs. And the way the cotton fabric brushed her skin as she walked up to him. "My eyes are up here, Mr. Storm." She said as she placed a finger underneath his chin and lifted his head so their eyes met.

"And you have very lovely eyes, sweetheart."

"Stop distracting me." She exhaled loudly. "I'll ask Alice if she can lend me something."

"But you are wearing my shirt, you can wear it for dinner." Johnny protested.

"You are pretty excited about me wearing your shirt. By any chance, did you burn my dress on purpose?" Y/N smirked.

"Never, baby. It was an accident."

"Okay, and what will you be wearing?"

"I can always wear this." He pointed at the white singlet on him.

"Ugh, alright, come on." Y/N offered her hand to which Johnny gladly accepted. "I'll get some shorts from Alice before our parents think we're doing something else out here."

"You mean the thing we'll be doing on our wedding night?"

"Johnny."

"And the thing we'll be doing in a few hours to celebrate our engagement? Can you tell me what thing that is?" Johnny took her hand and kissed the finger where a shining engagement ring was sitting there like he always intended on putting it.

"Making love, Johnny, we'll be making love."

/

Bonus

"Y/N?" Johnny quietly knocked on her door and hoped that she would open even though he 'wasn't supposed to be there'. "Love?" He opened the door when he didn't hear anything from the other side.

A groan from the ensuite bathroom worried him. He quickly walked and knocked on the door. "Sue?" Y/N's voice sounded weak and it only worried Johnny.

"No, baby, it's me. Are you okay?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Y/N, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

Johnny sighed in relief. "They say I'm not supposed to come in but I need to make sure, okay, love?"

"Okay."

"What happened?" He asked right away and walked up to her as he saw her sitting next to the toilet bowl. "Wait, are you? Are we?"

Y/N nodded gently and rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm pregnant, Johnny." She whispered softly. "We are having a baby."

"If I knew you were going to gift me a baby, I would've gotten you something better." Johnny chuckled, confusing Y/N as he offered the paper bag he had brought with him.

"What are you-?" She wondered as she searched the contents of the bag. "Oh, my..." Inside the bag, the dress Johnny had burnt the night of their engagement party.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to replace it. It was out of stock for the longest time."

Y/N sniffed loudly. "I love you, Johnny. Thank you for the dress and you know, for our bun."

"I love you too, babygirl." Johnny wiped the lone tear that fell from her eye. "I know you are carrying our baby but please let's not call it bun. It's going to stick and Ben will never let it go." He groaned.

"Oh, yes. God forbid Ben starts teasing you."

"Exactly!" Johnny smirked. "Are you up for marrying me today still?"

"Of course, flame boy."