#on top of me just. not dealing well with surprise tasks

[thevoidstaredback]

Just as he had last time, Barry called Wally and Bart to help him comb over the US. He took the Midwest and South; Wally took the Mid Atlantic and New England areas; Bart took Alaska, the Western, and Southwestern states.

"Didn't this happen in your timeline, Impulse?" Wally asked.

"Nope!" Bart answered, "At least I don't think so."

"What do you mean you don't think so?"

"You expect me to know everything that happened throughout the entire timeline?!"

"A little bit, yeah!"

"Boys!" Barry cut in, "Please focus; time is a little bit of the essence."

"No, no, no," Superboy, who was checking the Northern Hemisphere, chimed, "Let 'em argue. It's entertaining."

"Are you sure you don't remember anything from the previous loops?" Superman asked, speaking over the three kid heroes.

Barry found himself rolling his eyes. "Yes, Supes. I'd've told you by now if I remembered-" He stopped short, sliding down the road a few feet.

"Flash?"

"Hold that thought."

"Did you find something?"

"Keep looking; I'm gonna check something real quick." He muted his end of the line. "What in the world..?"

Apparently, there's a castle in Wisconsin.

***

Dick was not having a good time. He thought that he was done dealing with Bruce when he quit! But, no! The bastard just keeps calling!

At least he can still work with Barbara. That's a plus.

Nightwing set up shop in Bludhaven. This was well established throughout not only the city itself, but throughout Gotham and the entire hero community. Sure, he helps out other places, but he mostly stays in Bludhaven. Just because he's close, though, means that Bruce thinks he can jump between the two cities.

He can, but he doesn't want to.

But, orders from Batman must be followed or he'll throw a fit.

How the hell did he put up working with that man?

How the hell does Tim put up with it?

Even in the middle of a potentially Word Ending Crisis, Batman doesn't want any of the other heroes in Gotham, so searching the city falls to Nightwing and Batgirl. Well, it would if she didn't have her own tasks.

He'd seen Kid Flash in passing about an hour ago, just long enough for a speedster-level high-five as they passed by, as he was leaving Bludhaven.

He'd searched his home from top to bottom three times over and there wasn't a single thing out of place there. The US Government had all but abandoned the city when they'd given up on Gotham, so the lack of any government occupation didn't surprise him in the slightest. The people of Bludhaven hated the government enough that a few well placed words on his part now had the entire city on the lookout for the black suited bastards, allowing him to go look in Gotham.

As much as Gothamites hated authority figures, they had nothing on Bludhaven. Sure, they'd been given up on first, but the government still had eyes on the city because of Batman. As long as Batman works for the Justice League, then it isn't a stretch to think that the government has eyes and ears on or in the city.

Finding a base in Gotham will be much harder than finding one in Bludhaven. Not because he doesn't know his way around, but because of the sheer amount of buildings there are. Abandoned, occupied, business, residential, it doesn't matter; every one of them is a potential government occupation camp until proven otherwise. Every person found within the city is a possible government dog until proven otherwise.

Dick sighs. He certainly has his work cut out for him.

Part 7 Part 9

[raskies456]

man given surprise time sensitive task while already performing different time sensitive task, 3 dead 7 injured

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 2

Part 1

Damian glared at the envelope. He and Father were in the process of analysing the letter for any signs of toxins, explosives or other traps. Obviously he wasn’t fool enough to open a missive from a questionable source without taking precautions. So far, all their scans had come up empty. Literally. The letter was defying all their attempts at chemical or spectroscopic testing, x-ray and magnetic resonance scans were inconclusive, it defied all properties of ordinary matter. It was frustrating. It was vexing. He was blaming magic.

For all intents and purposes, the letter looked like ordinary paper, with an ordinary wax seal, bearing the initials CW. The looping handwriting addressing it to Damian was precise and neat. Swiping the surface of the letter for chemical traces yielded no results. When Damian had tried to cut off a corner of the paper for analysis it had resisted all attempts, including a laser and a diamond headed cutting tool. Damian’s only satisfaction was that when Father had grunted and taken over the task from Damian, he had no more success than his son. As if Damian didn’t know how to perform the standard array of tests!

It certainly didn’t help that his siblings wouldn’t stop their incessant chattering!

“I’m just saying, ghosts wouldn’t be the weirdest thing we’ve encountered, Red. I’m not sure it would even make my personal Top 5.”

It seemed gossip among heroes travelled faster than the speed of light.

“Really, Nightwing? Ghosts? It’s far more likely to be a meta with something to hide. Or a few screws loose.” Damian could practically hear the eyeroll in Drake’s voice “And since when do ghosts act as glorified mailmen?”

“I don’t know Red, since when do aliens pretend to be Kansas farmboys? C’mon, we deal with magic users all the time!”

“And lets not forget people coming back from the dead” Red Hood interjected over the open comm line.

“Magic is just science we don’t understand yet. Any sufficiently analysed magic becomes indistinguishable from science!”

“B, a little help here?”

“Hn” Father straightened up from his position at the lab table “Oracle, any progress on clearing up the footage from Robin’s mask?”

Grayson threw up his hands with a frustrated huff while Drake smirked.

“The program is almost finished rendering. Whatever scrambler they used did a real number on the video quality. I’m surprised the audio is as clear as it is.” Oracle replied.

“Hn. And the isotope tracer on the money?”

“Sorry B, no hits on the local sensors. Wherever the guy went it’s either outside Gotham or shielded somehow.” she said, mildly frustrated.

“Maybe it’s ghost magiiiiic” Drake sing-songed. Grayson lightly cuffed the back of his head, to which the former Robin responded with a firm shove. Their interaction quickly devolved into a childish tussle.

Damian gave an annoyed huff. “Don’t you two imbeciles have anything better to do?”

“Aww, we’re just here to look out for our baby brother!” Nightwing teased.

“Yeah, we gotta make sure your ghost encounter didn’t leave any lasting psychological damage!” Red Robin added.

Before Damian could retaliate for their needling, Oracle chimed in. “Uh, guys? You’re going to want to see this. Most of the footage was corrupted beyond repair, but I was able to pull some partial stills and, well…” she threw a handful of pictures up on the screen. There was artifacting marring them, but parts of the stranger were visible in each of them. Oracle magnified one that had a pretty good view of his face.

“Holy shit” Drake whispered.

Damian frowned. “What?”

“Dami, he looks like you. Just… older.” Grayson said softly.

“What are you talking about?” Damian snapped.

“Disregard the pale colouring for a second. The nose, the chin… he looks like you if you had a growth spurt,” Drake wrinkled his nose “and went through puberty.”

The commlines erupted into chaos. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Spoiler exclaimed “are you telling me there’s an older version of Robin running around Gotham?!”

“Copy?” Batgirl inquired.

“Don’t tell me Talia cooked up Demon Brat 2.0!”

“Given that he looks older it’s more likely version 0.1 if anything,” Drake snarked, “though there’s the possibility of artificially accelerated growth rates…”

Damian had had enough. “Tt. You are ignoring the obvious - if this is some kind of supernatural entity it likely copied aspects of my appearance in an attempt to engender feelings of familiarity.” he said haughtily, pushing down the uncomfortable churning in his stomach. There was no way Mother would replace him with a cheap copy. She couldn’t! “Besides, the creature has obvious powers and neither of my bloodlines has any trace of the meta gene.”

“That’s ignoring the ghostly elephant in the room.” Grayson chimed in, “Maybe it’s a dead ancestor?”

Drake gave their older brother an annoyed look “Even a time travelling descendant from the future is more likely than that. And delivering a ‘prophecy’ to boot?”

Oracle pulled up an aged up picture of Damian next to the stranger’s, highlighting several reference points. “On closer inspection, there’s a couple of discrepancies. The cheekbones for one - Robin definitely takes after his mother, while our mystery meta looks more like… well… Robin’s grandmother on the paternal side.” she finished hesitantly. “B?”

They turned to look at Batman, who had remained silent during the whole exchange. If they hadn’t known him so well they would have thought him unaffected, but the tightening around his mouth betrayed his agitation.

“There’s no use in pointless speculation until we have more data to work from,” he growled, “Oracle, look for any reports of a meta matching the target. Since our regular methods have failed to yield results, I will contact the JLD about running tests on the letter.” He turned to Drake, “Red Robin, see what you can find on recent League activities. If this is another scheme by Ra’s or Talia we need to know about it.”

“The last thing we need is more demon spawn running around!” Red Hood groaned over the comms.

Damian was furious. This was absurd! To even indulge the possibility that that creature was in any way related to him was making him feel like he had swallowed battery acid. He was the Demon’s Heir! He was not replaceable! There was only one thing to do.

“Robin? Stop!”

He ignored his Father’s shout. He stomped over to the lab table, snatched up the envelope and broke the seal.

Nothing happened.

He unfolded the paper and saw the same handwriting that had been on the outside.

Brother of blood, brother of soul

Never buried but already mourned

In lightning and ice the scorned child returned

To strike down the Demon’s Head

With all that Death earned

Damian’s hand shook. He reread the lines over and over again, refusing to comprehend. He could feel his Father standing behind him, scrutinising the letter as well.

“Son…”

Suddenly, the paper burst into green flames, going up into smoke that dissipated unnaturally quickly.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Then…

“Well that was needlessly melodramatic” Nightwing remarked.

Part 3

[minawritesfanfic]

You are who you eat

Dexter Morgan x Reader

Word count: 2k

Summary: After finding out about Dexter’s after hour hobby you start to investigate him while teasing him from afar that you know what he is.

Part 2

Previous | Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

Finding a reason to go up to homicide was easy I had an email come in from the sergeant but I also couldn’t be bothered to deliver the brand new computers to homicide yesterday like I was supposed to. I carried the box out of the tiny office, normally I would’ve struggled to carry something this heavy but hauling around dead bodies was unsurprising a great work out. I used my elbow to press the button for the elevator and waited for it to come down, I heard someone come up behind me and turned to see my mystery man. Boy does he have great timing, I glanced down at his ID and under his photo was his name, Dexter Morgan. Got you, I gave him a polite smile turning around as I heard the familiar ding of the elevator and stepped inside. He stepped inside as well tucking his hands into his pockets, it felt odd being so close to someone and knowing except who they are without them knowing a thing.

His expression was calm but I could tell from the slight fidgeting he wasn’t as calm as he let on. Like freak out by last nights encounter, I mean I would be too. If someone caught me just as I was killing someone and there was a high chance they saw my face, I would be shitting my pants and looking over my shoulder for days. Though I have no plans of exposing his secret because that would mean bringing into the question why I was at the car dealership, why I hadn’t reported it then, or of I didn’t mention that part what was I doing at Ann Cohen’s house that late at night anyways. No excuse I could come up would lose their suspicion so it just seemed far better to not involve myself in it at all, if anything it would be easier to just deal with this Dexter person on my own.

The elevator dinged again as we arrived on the next floor, and we both stepped out with our left foot as if we were synchronized together. Our eyes met again and we awkwardly walked out one after another, I let him step ahead of me and watched as he disappeared into the tiny room in the back of the department whilst I began distributing the laptops to each officer and collecting their old ones. I hadn’t been asked to do that but I figured if I didn’t do it now I would likely be sent to do it anyway, and I didn’t have a reason to come up here twice in a day so it’s not like I needed it as an excuse. Doing it now simply saved me from unnecessary work later on, as I got to the last laptop I found myself at Sergeant Doakes desk. My final task in the homicide department for today, hopefully at least.

“Good morning Sergeant, I got your email what can I do for you?” I said as I handed him the new laptop.

“Morning, I heard you were the person to ask about getting into some encrypted files?”

“I am indeed, you can just give me the device and I’ll get tight to it. Is there a deadline or can I do this at my own pace?”

“No deadline as I’m not sure if they will be anything helpful on there, but please make it a priority.” He pulled a silver Dell mini 9, I set it on top of the others in the box making a mental note to look at it later.

“Alright I’ll get it back to you as soon as I can then, if that’s all I should probably go deal with these.” I said raising the box slightly bringing attention to it.

“Thank you, please get back to me as soon as you can.”

With all my task completed I adjust grip on the box and took one last look around the department before turning to leave, my eyes drifted Dexter’s little hiding spot. I was surprised to see him already looking at me, his eye remained trained on me even as I turned away and walked out the department. A odd chill went down my spine as I recalled the look in his eyes it was empty and unreadable, I had definitely crossed a line today. There was no need to make him suspicious of me just yet, I still had plenty left to learn about him. I stepped inside the elevator and rode it back down to my floor and walked back to my office, and quickly started on my next task.

I decided to ignored the laptop for now and followed through with other requests in the building first, I felt it was better to run around now instead of constantly going back and forth. That way I could work on the things I needed to in the office uninterrupted, so I set off to step up a new computer for the deputy chief, helped track down a suspect using their phone for narcotics, and updating the missing persons website to showcase the recent disappearances. I spent the first half of my day running around and was happy to sit and work in my office until 4pm came around, I sat back in my chair and just took a few moments to breathe. I hadn’t made any significant progress with the laptop and honestly it was starting to frustrate me, I didn’t expect this to be easy but whoever encrypted these files sure as hell knew what they were doing. So instead of frustrating myself further I I decided to find out just who Dexter Morgan was, looking him up in the system I saw he had no priors in the system and seemed to be a relatively stand up citizen, too good of one to be honest. I knew it was a facade, considering I heard him say so, you can’t be a serial killer and not have a facade. I found that you had a sister Debra Morgan, I recognized her name from the news about the ice truck killer, but most importantly I found your house.

At first I considered talking to his sister and befriending her but I needed to stay out of sight for now, it I raise your attention any more than I already have it would be long before I might end up on your table as well. Of course that doesn’t mean I wasn’t going to bother him from a distance, I needed some sort of distraction while I went through his place so I had a friend of mine give him a little surprise. I stepped through the open door of your apartment, I glanced around looking at the layout and simple decor.

“Dexter, you left the door open again honey. I thought we talked about that.” I said as I stepping further inside and found a repair man tiding his tools on the floor. “Oh hello, have you seen Dexter?”

“No, manager let me in. Someone reported a leak.” He said not even bothering to look up at me.

“Oh yeah, I told him to get things checked out I’m glad he followed through. Was everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s in order. You can rest assured there’s no leaks in your boyfriend’s apartment.” He finished packing and began to leave.

“That’s great to hear, you have a wonderful day sir.” He gave me an awkward smile and shook his head as he left.

I shit the door behind him and looked around, so this was Dexter’s apartment. I immediately put on gloves, after my research I realized he was In forensics so leaving behind my finger prints wasn’t ideal. I started by checking the books making sure there was nothing inside or under them, then I checked his desk. I rummaged through the drawers and found nothing but the usual clutter, I decided to check his computer since I was more likely to find something there. I debugged my way through the login screen and got into his computer, on the surface there was again nothing but I kept digging until found it. His search history which stupidly he never clears, I found that he had used a lot of police resources from the comfort of his home. Don’t you know that’s illegal Dexter? Thankfully some of the searches showed the names he looked up, I borrowed one of his pens and a sticky note then began writing down as many of the names I could and the days he searched them. If my theory was right these were likely murderers as well who will all turn up missing shortly after dexter searched them. Once I was done there I ventured into the rest of the house and found it all to be normal, minus the obnoxious chest in his closet which I thought was odd but I didn’t have my lock pick to get into it. There wasn’t much left for me to do so I figured I should probably leave incase Dexter also decides to visit home on his lunch break.

★ ✮ ★

Dexter had been on edge all morning, looking over his shoulder just waiting for the coworkers to swoop in and arrest him. As illogical as the thought was, there was no evidence for whoever saw him to back up their claims. Even if they searched his apartment they would find nothing, but an accusation like that doesn’t go away even if it’s proven false. People would still be suspicious and Dexter certainly didn’t need any more prying eyes when he already had Doakes tailing him everywhere he went. He barely managed to get him off his back last night by popping one of his tires, though hope Doakes truly bought his ‘addiction’ and would leave him alone thinking he was in recovery. Still even though no one came knocking at his door during the night to arrest him, which truthfully only made him more anxious but he tried to rationalize it and soothe his anxiety. Maybe they didn’t see his face, they definitely didn’t know his name, maybe they hadn’t seen much of anything, maybe this maybe that. Nothing was certain and Dexter did not like that, he had been careful to live by Harry’s code and the number one rule was to not get caught yet here he was. With a heavy heart Dexter stepped into his tiny slice of the homicide department and was greeted by Masuka.

“Oh hey Dex, there’s something on your desk waiting for you. It looks like someone has a secret admirer.” He said with his signature laugh.

Dexter quirked a brow and saw it, a brightly colored cupcake with a pin stuck in it that said ‘eat me’. He furrowed his brows and ripped the cupcake in half with his thumbs and found a note inside, ‘Roger was a scumbag, wasn’t he? Your secret admirer’. Dexter felt his blood run cold as he fell back into his seat, whoever it was that saw him knew it was him. He didn’t like this not one bit, he needed to find out who sent this.

“Hey Masuka, any idea who sent me this?”

“I can’t tell you that, the point of a secret admirer is that its a secret.” Dexter frowned but didn’t push it, there were other ways to find out.

Dexter was wrong, terribly wrong, whoever this ‘secret admirer’ was had connections with people all throughout the building. He had been asking all around the station all day but everyone he asked was adamant on not exposing their identity, it was like some sick game and he was losing it. His nerves were eased because at least it seems like they aren’t going to expose him for his dark secret for now, but Dexter didn’t like the uncertainty of not knowing if they ever would. This isn’t what he should be worried about right now, he needed to get ahead of this bay harbor butcher thing before they tied it back to him. It was only a matter of time until Lundy would catch on, but he also needed to work things out with Rita and convince her he was committed to his ‘recovery’. There was a lot more on his plate than he was comfortable with, Dexter felt as if he was starting to drown, if things continued the way they were he was certain he would go insane.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[jollyhunter]

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 11.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! (Also, English is not my native language) Contains brief reference to Dec.1 (Sunshine) as well as Dec.9 (Whip Stroke) !

Summary: It's Christmas shopping day and Dean and you are cooped up in the fitting room, bickering, when one thing leads to the other...

Words: 2,170

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated! And let me know whether you enjoy it so far! <3 A/N: This prompt took me way too long and I think it shows... I rewrote it a good 4 times and now I'm late with posting it :') But I hope it turned out well enough and ya'll enjoy it nonetheless!

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

11th Dec. - Temptation

It's a bustling atmosphere, a wry cocktail mix of merry Christmas songs playing overhead and a grouchy Dean cooped up with you in the fitting room. “Maybe I should get the other tie…” you mumble to yourself, mentally going through different outfits for Dean.

“Please don‘t…” you hear Dean interject next to you, but you ignore him, focused on the task to get you both through this. With a contemplating hum, your eyes scan the assortment of outfits you had picked for him for the upcoming Christmas dinner with your family. You decide to start out with the white shirt, your hand running along the fabrics to smooth out some wrinkles.

Dean suddenly drapes his muscular arm around your neck, heavy and warm against your cheek before he pulls you in close to tuck your head under his chin where he places a soft kiss on your head. “Can we please go home?” He mutters against your hair, still keeping you close to distract himself with your scent (and to keep the clothings out of your reach).

You push a bit into his sides, turning in the narrow cabin to face him. “Nope, we‘re not done yet,” you chuckle as you tilt your head to glance up at him with a teasing smile. But your amusement dies down the moment you see his face; His eyes briefly pull shut before they go wide again in an effort to hold your gaze, his head visibly hard to keep up. Dean looks exhausted. You both didn't get much sleep lately, and on top of that, you know he is bored out of his mind, not being a fan of the holiday shopping spree.

“That bad?” you ask, although you already see the answer in his half-lidded eyes.

“Mhm,” he lets out a tired hum while he nuzzles his nose against your hair, sniffing the sweet smell of it. His voice is hoarse and quiet, seemingly left of any energy to speak properly, “‘m real tired…”

“Just this one, then we‘re done. Okay?” you insist while you reach up to gently tug at the front of his jacket, pulling it off and dropping it onto the small plastic stool in the corner of the cabin.

“You’ve been sayin’ that for the past 3 hours…” He groans and drops his forehead to your shoulder, “Please.” He begs now, his thumb gently caressing your upper arm.

Yeah, okay. You might have overdone it a bit. But it was the first day in months where you had a day - an entire day - with no hunting business whatsoever. So, naturally you took the chance. You‘d been running from one shop to the next since the early morning. Which wasn‘t that much of a deal for you, but clearly you overestimated Dean‘s shopping-stamina.

“Come on, we’re almost done,” you coo softly while you wiggle yourself free from his grip. “You wanna look good, don't you?”

His arms reluctantly slide off your shoulders to fall heavily next to his sides and his head drops forward for a moment. With a low grunt, he catches himself mid-air just to slump with his shoulder against the mirror, almost knocking into you in the process. “You kiddin' me? I look fucking great in anything...” he rolls his eyes and tries to argue cockily, but his tired words lack his usual bite.

Unperturbed, your hands effortlessly work their way down his buttons. He watches your stubborn determination with a frustrated look, but he’s too tired to put up any fight. “Up with your arms big baby.” You instruct and without waiting for his reaction, you first pull his shirt off and then unbuckle his belt to pull his pants off as well, stripping him naked for what feels like the twentieth time today.

You turn around to fetch a white shirt and marine blue pants off the hanger, matched with the first one out of the six suits, all waiting to be tried on. Meanwhile you hear him grumble something about ‘relentless damn woman‘ as he‘s rubbing the space between his eyebrows. You roll your eyes but keep going, pulling one outfit off the hanger after the other while Dean’s muttering disgruntled words under his breath. The entire time you try to navigate around Dean, but it was a difficult task with him almost keeling over and burying you alive in the narrow cabin at any given moment.

After a while you turn away again to finally fetch the last piece. “Your cute ass still red from all the whippin’?” he asks out of nowhere. And this time all of sudden his gravelly and slurred voice was way louder than before, enough to get you to whirl around with a panicked expression. A lazy, cocky smirk forms on his lips when he realizes that he‘s finally found a way to throw you off course and draw your attention away from the clothings, “I bet it is… the way you were whimperin’… an’ me whipping an’ fu-” your hand darts out to clasp it over his lips, mouthing a silent “shut it!”, praying that no one heard him. But he just continues to mumble, his words now muffled by your hand. You shoot him a glare, watching how he enjoys your flustered state with a tired version of his trademark cheshire grin, standing there in nothing but white boxers – tenting big time.

You had learned a while ago that when Dean is exhausted and practically running on steam, he has four phases; First he turns grouchy and irritated. When you won’t give in, his annoyance soon crumbles and he’s desperate and pleading. Still no luck? He’ll huff and puff and grumble in frustration like a child. You’re still relentless? Dean will lose every bit of the little inhibitions he has, and turn into a tired ‘n horny mess.

He gently grabs your hand on his mouth and places a kiss to your palm before his tongue suddenly darts out to lick it. You almost screech at the unexpected wetness on the inside of your hand and instantly pull it back. Dean grins mischievously with a hint of pride at his dirty move. “Y’know… I could use some juice,” he drawls out before he pulls his bottom lip back to graze his teeth across it. You stare up at him with raised eyebrows, the realization dawning on you; Dean has entered the fourth phase.

“Heh-heh,” Dean lets out his typical cocky chuckle in reaction to your lack of response. His half-lidded eyes glint with mischief when his hand trails down your back - but you swat it away before it reaches its destination.

“Dean, focus! Not here.” You hiss in a low voice, trying to get his mind out of the gutter. But despite your slight annoyance, you can’t fight off the small amused smile creeping up on your face.

“Oh come on baby, gimmi somethin’... please.” He mutters, leaning closer again to shower your scrunched up face with little kisses now. His strong arms are loosely draped over your shoulders, still heavy as they caress your back with slow circles. “I’ll be good… I promise…” He nudges your cheek with his nose before he drops his head to your shoulder, mumbling against your neck, “I need you… please….” His voice takes on that desperate, pleading tone which for some reason always slips into a sudden extra thick Texan accent when he’s this deadbeat. “‘m serious… I’ll be good… an’… an’ I’ll try on whatever you want… an’ be yer mule for the rest of the day…”

That earned himself a chuckle of yours to which he lifts his head to look at you with a lazy smile. For some reason you can’t help but feel like this cuddly, touchy, needy and hella knackered Texan-boy version of his has got something incredibly endearing.

He goes back to pepper your exposed skin with kisses and despite his half-comatose state, he manages to hit every single right spot on your neck all the way up to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, right to your core. His stubbles brush against your jawline while you nuzzle your nose against the side of his face, the smell of him suddenly much more intense and tantalizing. Without realizing it, you tilt your head to the side, gaining him more access. Meanwhile his hands travel down your back once more, but this time you allow him to move on, to squeeze and massage your ass. You have to stifle a small moan against his bare chest and moments later your lips start planting kisses all over his abs before you can even register it. Dean groans into the crook of your neck, his hot breath tingling your skin while his fingers dig into the fabric of your jeans.

But then you suddenly tense up and pull slightly back as you could’ve sworn you heard a noise from outside the fitting room. Wait - Shit. Right. You curse inwardly when the realization of you being in public slaps you right out of your mindless state. “Dean, wait-” you mutter in slight panic and Dean freezes instantly, his lips still pressed against your skin while he glances at you from the corner of his eyes with a raise of his brows.

“What if somebody hears us?” You continue, your rational mind clinging to your fear of getting caught.

Dean raises his head, just enough to whisper softly against your ear, his hoarse voice rumbling and reassuring despite his state, “s’okay… there’s no one else down here… nuthin’ to worry, sunny.” You raise an eyebrow at the new version of ‘sunshine’ but don’t get to comment on it, as he continues in a teasing tone. “An’ if anyone does happen to hear us, they’ll jus’ know we’re havin’ a real fun time.”

“But…” you start out, your increasingly clouded mind desperately trying to come up with some argument but ultimately giving in to the lips on your skin and the pooling heat between your legs.

It’s an interesting thing, how quickly the fear of getting caught can turn into excitement, only fuelling one’s desire to go on. The temptation to test the limits. Just a bit more. Just a kiss more, a touch more - okay, one soft moan won’t be enough to get anyone's attention, right? Yeah alright, that was a bit loud, Dean, but if we keep it down we can keep this going… just a tad bit longer.

“Nothing more than a little hanky-panky - okay?” You state between kisses.

“Nuthin’ more than a little hanky-panky.” He repeats huskily.

Minutes later that poor stool of the corner creaks under the combined weight of Dean, and you straddling his thighs, bouncing up and down on his thick cock. Your forehead drops to rest on his head, your teeth tugging at strands of his dark blond hair whenever he pulls you down by your hipbones. He groans into your shirt, his face dug between your breasts in a weak effort to muffle his sounds. You stifle a whimper when he suddenly grazes his teeth along the fabrics, pinching your nipple with his teeth. Your nails claw at the skin of his bare back and his neck, and your lips are firmly pressed against his hair as you try to hold in your own moans and your frantic panting.

The stool squeaks in protest when your rhythm picks up its pace and Dean starts to buck his hips to meet you halfway. A loud guttural moan escapes your throat when the tip of his cock hits a sensitive spot, but your sound is quickly muffled by Deans hand. “Shhh… let’s not alarm the staff…” He whispers into your ear with a sly smirk. You nod and he pulls his hand away again to clash his lips with yours, swallowing each other’s exclaims of pleasure while you both feel the need to go harder, deeper. Dean tightens his grip on your hips and you hook your feet around the stools legs. He slams you down on his cock, feeling it grow harder with each thrust when you start clenching your walls around him and feel yourself grow closer to that sweet release. A few moments later, all three of you are trembling and groaning, so close to the breaking point that - Hold on a second.

But it’s too late, you’re both too far gone to form any thoughts now, your bodies working mindlessly to get you over that edge. At last, a deep, muffled groan echoes through the room as you both come undone and collapse on the stool, shaking and panting heavily. Unfortunately that’s the last push needed to send the stool over the edge as well; before either of you realize what’s going on, its legs give in with a row of shuddering cracks and you all three crash into the floor in a cacophony of plastic snapping, a high pitched scream, and a half-strangled “Son of a bitch!”

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke 10th Dec. - Barbie World 11th Dec. - Temptation

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags:

@ariasong11 @deansjacket @literallylexa @lmpala1967 @foxyjwls007 @impala67rollingthroughtown

[obsessedwrhys]

Hey so how do you think rise donnie would deal with a magical crush who is very chill with his tech and magic ramblings. He is in the room when April asks magival crush “is he bothering you? He can be a bit insufferable sometimes. He can’t just let things go and just accept magic as is”. And crush is like “oh. I don’t mind it. I mean, everyone thought rainbows were magical. They still are, but now you know how they work. I kind of like watching his big head try and figure this stuff out”?

A LOVE BEYOND LOGIC

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ just lots of fluff and flirting (I went overboard with the flirting), reader does get hurt but it's just minor, used of (Y/N) but only once, I hope this is a good read ☹, reader is fem!!

ᯓ★

It was another normal Tuesday for everybody in the lair, like always, you found yourself sunk into the bean bag your best friend plus boyfriend, Donnie, personally installed in his lab just for you. Well how he manages to become your boyfriend is a different story.

It all happened so fast, you were both blabbered about magic and science and suddenly he's pouring his heart out for you. What's more surprising is that this ain't exactly your home realm. You're pretty lucky enough to have score yourself a bunch of friendly people willing to let you stay at their place, not to mention be fine with your whole magical fiesta.

Anyways, you were concentrating on the game in your phone until you hear Donnie let out a frustrated groan. Curious, you looked to see him struggling with what seemed to be his next hopeful project. It's just not looking too hopeful right now.

"You okay?" You asked and his gaze darts towards you. He waves his hand dismissively.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I must have gotten the formula wrong" He said and at the same time, he walked over to the other table to check on his notes. You put your phone away before getting up to approach him.

"Can I help?" You asked.

You then stood beside him, your eyes examining how his hands are placed at both sides of the notebook as he has his head focused at it in the middle. His brows were slightly furrowed from trying to figure out what went wrong. Even with the stress, you can't help but find the concentration on his face somehow making him appear more attractive.

"No... no... I wouldn't wanna trouble you with this burden..." He muttered almost like a whisper since his mind is already preoccupied with focusing.

"Watching you torture yourself with this is already a burden" You joked and he couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"You're right, I'll try my best to figure this out sooner" He shoots you a sweet smile before walking off to the table in the center that has his project on top.

"Maybe after this we can go exploring. You said you wanted to visit the museum right? If we're lucky enough, I can shut down the surveillance so we can go in undetected, it'll be like the place is ours" He said, putting on his safety goggles as he continues on his work. You couldn't help but feel all giddy inside just hearing him remember you telling him that a few days ago.

You clear your throat, calming yourself.

"That'd be awesome. I don't know if you know this but I can detect old magic in artifacts. Connecting with them makes me stronger" You grabbed an unfinished rubix cube from his shelf and began to play with it as you made yourself float. Even with your body levitating a few feet above him, he didn't mind but was more focused on the task at hand.

"Huh... is that why you're so eager to go? To make yourself more powerful?" He said, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Not entirely, I did say I wanted to explore it with you" You said and just hearing you say that, he tried to bite back a smile, a sense of pride swelling up in his chest.

"Gaining power and spending time with me? You're awfully greedy. Are all magical beings like this from your realm?" He playfully teased and you couldn't help but let out a humoured scoff.

"Too bad it must just be me" You responded and it made him laugh to himself while shaking his head.

"What else should I be aware of about your powers?" He asks and you hummed as you thought it over.

"Well... my powers get crazy strong when I feel a strong emotion. Whether it be sad or anger. Somehow being overwhelmed can 'cause me to lose control" You said and it automatically caught his interest.

"Lose control?" He repeats while putting on gloves before using the angle grinder on the metal.

"Huh... I can understand why... the heightened emotions you feel can create a swirling vortex of energy that can overwhelm your conscious control, making it easily for you to lose any sense of control over yourself, it's almost inevitable" He asserted like he always does when he's invested with every new discovery about your magical abilities.

"Really? Are you saying that's a bad thing?" You raised an eyebrow as you finally landed beside him, at the same time Donnie stops using the angle grinder and puts it aside. He pulls over his goggles, letting it rest just above his head.

"Not exactly, there are other emotions that can also work... Magic is no different than science. There's always a different formula available to replace the other" He said, twisting some screws onto the machine and once he's done, he turns it on before stepping back to see it on and working.

"And maybe sometimes... different is better" He smiled, satisfied with his success. He then turn to look at you who seemed puzzled, in your hand holds the rubix cube you have yet to finish.

"I'm sort of getting it but what other emotions is there that doesn't involve me turning into a raging monster?"

"There is one... an emotion that makes you feel calm yet overwhelmed at the same time... but you'll have to fall"

"Fall?" You watch as he goes to the other side of the room to grab a handkerchief to wipe his face clean.

"Fall in love... can't be hard right?" He looks at you, his eyes warm like it'll be enough to melt you. The way he stares at you makes it seem as though you're the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. You blush as you let out an awkward chuckle.

"Love? Are you saying that because half of the movies we watch, the main character happens to win in the last minute against the bad guy because of the power of love?" You joked, trying to hide the fact that your heart is beating faster than it would.

"This is purely science. I don't recall any movies using that trope" He says and you couldn't help but tilt your head, your brows raised in disbelief.

"Beauty and the Beast"

"Hey he was cursed by a witch"

"Tangled"

"That was more about cutting her hair"

"Uh Hero? Frozen?!??! Every freaking Christmas movie ever created?!?!!" He stares at you, silent for a second and you can see from his face that he's thinking it over.

".... you had me at Frozen. Ah alright, you're missing the whole point of all of this" He approaches you and you can't help but try to at least avoid the effect he's having on you.

"What I'm trying to prove here is that maybe you can try focusing on that emotion. Maybe it can even save you out of a messy situation one day. Who knows?" He crosses his arms, a confident smirk on his face. You roll your eyes with a smile of your own.

"You and your science talk. I do appreciate it but sometimes it's a wonder you haven't talked my ear off" You joked and it makes him laugh once again.

"Oh please, my voice is not irritating, at least not compared to yours"

"Excuse me??"

Right as you finished talking, April enters. She stops in her tracks as she awkwardly shifts her focus from Donnie's face to yours. Sensing the clear look of annoyance on your face, she decides to step in between in whatever conversation you two are having.

"Hey now, I've been gone for only a few hours and you guys are already trying to tear each other down" She laughs half heartedly. Clearly sensing the shift of emotion in the atmosphere, Donnie shrugs as he chooses to walk back to his station.

"Oh well, and uh (Y/N), you should go with April. It's almost evening and you usually eats at this hour. I'll find you later" He says with his back turned to you. Not really caring much about it, you also shrug before turning the other way.

"I was gonna go eat anyways" You said but deep inside you could feel that flutter of emotion again. Without much complain, you decided to go to the kitchen to April, the rubix cube still in your hand.

You're seated at the chair and toying around with the cube that you failed to acknowledge the concern look on April's face. She hands you your plate of food before taking her seat beside you. It was when you both started eating that you finally notice. But before you can ask, she beats you to it.

"Are you okay? I saw your face back there and it seemed like you guys were arguing. Is Donnie bothering you again? I know how far he can go trying to experiment on you" She said and her words nearly caught you off guard. You're aware of her concern about your safety but you weren't sure she would be THIS concern. Especially directing it towards Donnie.

"Wait no we weren't arguing just now. He just said some stupid comeback at my joke. Besides, what makes you think he'd do that?" You asked and she turns to look at you as if your question was a dumb one.

"Um, hello? He's Donatello. The 'Magic is not a real thing' Donatello... Did you forget how he was trying to have you join his crazy experiments when you first got here??" She said and you couldn't help but laugh a bit from how unreal the situation you're in.

"Okay first of all, he doesn't hate magic. He's just amazed about it you know? It's like giving a baby their first taste of sweet candy"

"You're comparing him to a baby now?"

"It was just a metaphor"

"Fineeee!! But how is he okay with letting you hang around in his lab? Doesn't magic and science not work together?"

"Oof if that was the case then people would think that thunder and lightning was a sign of God's fury from above"

"Okaaay... you have a point but... why do you like hanging around in his lab? It doesn't seem to be your cup of tea" You look at her and you see a teasing grin on her face.

Oh boy.

"His lair is... quiet... it's comforting"

"Ah yes... the sound of him drilling for hours is very relaxing. Not to mention the loud noises of his hammer! Wh-What a paradise!!" She says while ending up laughing at her own sarcasm. You let out a defeafed sigh.

"Okay maybe I happen to enjoy watching him work. It's exciting!! Do you see the way he puts things together?" You said with pride that you failed to notice the smile on your face.

"Uh huh" She looks at you and its clear that she doesn't buy it one bit.

Minutes later after you both are done eating and chatting about your everyday lives, you found your way back into the lab.

As expected, you found Donnie in his chair and seemingly working on his next project. Seeing how busy he looks, you decided to just go back to your place on the bean bag... but the sound of your footsteps caught his attention. His eyes slightly perked up as he swung around in his chair to look at you.

"You're back so quick...?" He said, his tone coming off surprised.

"Yeah... why? Do you need some alone time?" You took a step back and he quickly got to his feet like he's trying to stop you.

"That's not what I meant... uh I need to ask you an offer" He then leaned his back against the table and from the way his eyes is struggling to maintain eye contact with you, you could tell it wasn't anything good.

"Do you mind if you could used your powers to give my machine a boost? I need to make sure if it's resistant from getting fried easily" He looks at you, his gaze making him appear hopeful that you'll be fine with that... and honestly why wouldn't you be?

"Sure, just tell me how much is too much" You walk over to the machine displayed on the center and he mirrors your action. You stand side by side as you gently place your hand on top of the core.

"How about we start with something small and we'll work our way up from there?" He suggests which you nodded in agreement.

Just like that, you activated your powers and at the same time made sure you weren't using too much of it. In relief the machine didn't blow up but was running just fine. Almost at the same time, You and Donnie exchanged thankful smiles when turning to look at one another. With the first stage cleared, you decided to up the heat a bit.

"ZZZzzzz" The machine buzzes a bit from the increased intensity of your powers but surprisingly it's still intact and working right.

"Alright... moment of truth..." You grit your teeth anxiously... then activated the full force of your powers.

⌁KRRRRK⌁

Almost like a flash, you could feel surges of electricity coursing through your vines so due to your instincts you quickly pulled your hand away cause of the pain. And for the machine it was now overloading but somehow still functioning. Before you could even do anything, Donnie is already by your side with a med kit in hand.

"Are you okay? I know you're an enhanced being but still that must have hurt" He places the kit on the table and opened it to take out anything you needed.

"Just a small wound" You said, showing him the tiny burn on your pinky. Instantly he's already treating it with the petroleum jelly.

You don't say anything but choose to watch him tend to your minor injury. From his body language you could tell that he was very focused on not hurting you in the slightest. Soon after he wraps a clean bandage loosely around your pinky, he looks at you with a wave of warmth on his face. How he looks at you so softly is making your heart beat like it did not long ago.

"So... are you still up for our visit to the musuem?" He asks and you chuckle in disbelief.

"Seriously? You're not gonna even explain why you invented this thing in the first place? Not after my effort of helping you out?"

"Oh that? I wanted to surprise you but since you asked, this is gonna be our one way ticket to shutting the surveillance off. Just stick this bad boy into the breaker and the cameras are out" He picks it up and effortlessly puts it into the back of the truck, you follow him not far behind.

"You built all that just to spend one night with me at the musuem?" You tilt your head and he freezes in place, his back facing you as he stands at the back of the van.

"Uh... yeah... why not?" He rubs his neck awkwardly. From that you could tell that you've somehow made him flustered. You laugh and the sound of you laughing made him turn around out of curiosity.

"What are you laughing about?" He said despite the movements of his lips beginning to form a grin.

"Nothing nothing..." You look at him, a smile still present on your face but soon you show him your pinky, the same one he helped bandage it up for you.

"Kiss it to make it better?" You said with your hardest attempt of making puppy dog eyes. He shakes his slightly out of amusement.

"Only because you asked" He takes a few steps forward and carefully holds your arm by the wrist before guiding it towards his lips. He kisses it delicately and while he does so, his eyes are remained locked on yours. The intensity of his gaze made you blush that you couldn't help but look away.

"There... is my baby done whining now?" He said with his hands now intertwined with yours. You roll your eyes as you let him pull you into his embrace.

"Yeah yeah... let's go to the musuem now smarty pants" He chuckles at your response with his arms wrapped securely around you, his fingers tracing gently down your spine.

"Should we watch a movie after we get back?"

"Frozen?"

"Perfect"

[bones4thecats]

hellooo can i request a hades , Poseidon , and Hermes with a Dum Dum orange cat type of reader(female)

How would they handle the reader , and how would they just try to get the reader to not just do anything dumb enough to injure or kill her tyyy

Type of Writing: Request Characters: Hades, Poseidon, and Hermes Name: {Character} with their Dumb-Dumb! Reader Requester: Anonymous

A/N: Honestly, I kinda vibe with this reader. My brain just shuts down whenever I finish a task and I look back going, 'how the hell did I do this?' like five seconds afterwards.

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

💀 He was one of the smartest Gods known anywhere, Valhalla and Earth alike. But you, you were known around Valhalla for your 'idiocy', as declared by many

💀 Now, as rude and sad as that may sound, your husband somehow couldn't fully disagree with those claims

💀 Hades would just be working on some paperwork given to him by Zeus when one of his guards would walk in with a tired expression to announce to the God that you had gotten into an accident

💀 And by accident, I mean by you were just walking around and somehow stumbled into multiple different paint cans and got covered head to tow in the multiple colors of paint

💀 Your husband has gone to many measures to make sure you didn't somehow injure, or worse, killed yourself, because of your moments of flat-mindedness

💀 He had gotten some, in other's words, baby-proofing materials installed, including covering electric outlets, since one time you stuck a fork in there for who knows what reason, and a place to keep medications and vitamins out of your reach

💀 Needless to say, one time you saw your daily vitamins on the counter-top and you pushed the bottle over to get more to fall out

💀 And when Hades saw that nearly one fourth of the container was gone, he nearly had a heart-attack because of how much he was overthinking

💀 Whenever someone asks why your vitamins were locked up in a closet with the key being constantly around Hades, he would just answer with

" To keep it plain and simple, my dear S/O had gotten into the old container and nearly gave me a, what humans describe, heart-attack. "

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🔱 He was put off by how, in his words, 'mind-numbingly ignorant' you were when it came to, well, literally anything

🔱 Poseidon is a very serious individual, even among the God's standards, he was very stoic and cold appearing. So, when you have that information and you compare you to him, it's a surprise he hasn't tried killing you yet

🔱 Unlike Hades, he discovered your idiocy quite fast, since he didn't really act, he preferred to watch and observe how people act

🔱 Your husband, like his brother, was normally busy with different things, from making sure his ocean's waves measured well according to schedule, to making sure that the paperwork he had to commission to his oldest brother was done, this guy was on average fairly busy

🔱 Though, whenever he would get a fair amount of time off, he would head off to his S/O and make sure they were okay

🔱 This guy had been dealing with your actions for many years, and in that time you haven't stopped getting a bruise every week, whether it be from hitting your tow or running into an object, he had never gotten a week off from your injuries

🔱 While he may not show it, Poseidon really does care about you, but, unlike his oldest, he protects you in another way

🔱 He doesn't baby-proof his home, he finds that to be dumb. If there is a creature that dumb in the world, they don't deserve life, his words, not mine! Though they do change if you guys have children

🔱 Instead, Poseidon just puts either a couple guards to be by your side to make sure you didn't somehow mess up an entire room just by getting scared by a, in your words, 'flying cucumber', or, he'll have you positioned around him so he could watch over you

🔱 The latter happens more often, though. And whenever you have to be around him, he'll make sure that you have something to mess with, just so you didn't end up destroying something else somehow

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

📨 Unlike many beings that you and him have met, Hermes loves how you get into trouble at random, it gives you an aura of mystery and difference, and he likes that

📨 Hermes loves to, when he can, watch you as you just walk around and get into trouble, like that one time where you ended up getting chased around by geese because you fell out of a tree while playing with Heracles and Ares when you were younger

📨 Whenever you would end up getting into trouble with another Deity, your husband would appear out of nowhere and distract the person as you escaped

📨 This guy loves writing songs in devotion of others, take the human fighters from Ragnarok into account, and for you? He has nearly five folders full of songs dedicated to you

📨 One of his favorite memories of you was when he was coming home from work and he stumbled upon two of his father's allies, Shiva, the head of the Hindu Pantheon, and Apollo, the Greek's God of the Sun

📨 The two men ran up to him dounced in a mixture of paint, glue, and a ton of multi-color glitter, and that alerted him that something happened, and it definitely would give him some kind of blackmail

📨 So, when they asked where you were, Hermes just chuckled and pat their shoulders, making sure his gloves didn't get any of the colorful mix on the white fabric, and he told them you were staying with Aphrodite for the night, despite knowing you were at home hiding from the angry duo

📨 When he eventually arrived home, he ushered you out and began to comfort you from your scared faze, which was understandable. And, when he asked if you wanted to see the photos he sneakily took, he chuckled as your eyes lit up

📨 You may be quite danger-prone and not the brightest star in the sky, but, he loved you for that

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 49: Baby

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (47) x Reader (24)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Please comment and engage it means a lot to me and keeps me motivated 😇

Not much to your surprise, the following day, on Cillian's 48th birthday, your pregnancy made headlines all over Ireland.

Max had leaked the news to the press and luckily for you, Cillian's publicity team was already on top of it. Thus, with their help, Cillian handled it gracefully, releasing a statement expressing his love for both his children and you, regardless of what Max had said to reporters.

He acknowledged the situation with you as complex but promised to handle it with care and sensitivity, just as he always had done.

After a few weeks then, of course, the tabloids were no longer interested in you and Cillian, and moved on to the next scandal all while your belly grew bigger, and you enjoyed feeling the little kicks and movements that grew stronger every time. 

Your parents had now come around to the idea of having a grandchild as well and were excitedly shopping for baby clothes and gifts. They were also helping you prepare for the birth and, as you were approaching term, Cillian's focus became increasingly centered on you and your needs.

Your pregnancy in itself was uneventful. You were 37 weeks pregnant now and had no complications. You stopped working at 36 weeks and were taking some time to carefully clean out Cillian's old apartment so that it could be rented out in the coming weeks.

You made sure to be cautious though, not to overdo it, as Cillian was constantly reminding you to take it easy and avoid doing anything strenuous.

"I am fine. Honestly!" you kept reminding him every time  he would become overprotective. "I won't break."

He would always nod at your words, yet his behavior didn't change much. "I can't help it. I love you and I just want to ensure that you and our son are okay," he would reply, and the sincerity in his voice made your heart melt each time.

In the end though, he gave up, knowing how strong willed you were and, just as you were cleaning the cupboards in the kitchen, he reminded you of his meeting with his lawyer in relation to the ongoing saga with Danielle. 

"I will be fine here Cillian," you offered, not wanting him to worry about you while he was dealing with such complicated matters that were still blurred in the gray.

"I should be back in two hours," Cillian replied, brushing a lock of hair from your forehead before leaning in to steal a quick kiss. "And if you need me, call, alright?"

"You really do worry too much," you  laughed gently, touching his cheek.

"Only because I love you," Cillian said, his eyes softening as he took in your features.

For a moment, you both looked at each other, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him. Then, with a final kiss on your forehead, Cillian left for his meeting, leaving you alone in the apartment.

You smiled as you closed the door behind him before returning to the task at hand. 

Putting everything into a box that was still scattered around, you couldn't help but notice that the kitchen was almost empty now, ready for the cleaners to do the final dust down.

As you stood staring at your progress, a sudden twinge of pain shot through your lower back. You gasped, grabbing onto the counter for support as you tried to catch your breath. It was nothing new. When you were almost full term, backaches were a regular occurrence.

As the pain disappeared however, you noticed a box in the corner of the room still. It was labelled 'Max' and  your heart caught in your throat as you looked at it, remembering the harsh words he had spoken.

"Fuck it," you then said to yourself, deciding to pick it up and drop it down to his apartment on the second floor. It wasn't heavy at all, containing a few t-shirts, books and memorabilia. 

The weight of the box was nothing compared to the weight of the resentment that had built up between you and Max, but you hoped that by returning it, some small step towards healing the father-son relationship could begin.

As you placed the box down at Max's new apartment's doorstep, you couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions: sadness, guilt, but also a desire for peace. Although he had hurt you with his words, you knew Max still loved his father and that the situation had caused him immense pain.

Sighing, you turned to leave, but as you did, you heard the sound of the door opening behind you.

You turned back around and found yourself face to face with Max.

He looked tired and haggard, his eyes ringed with dark circles and his hair dishevelled. You could see the guilt etched onto his face as he took in your swollen belly.

"What the fuck do you want?" he snapped, crossing his arms and staring at you with un concealed anger.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your emotions in check. "I came to return this," you said quietly, gesturing to the box at his feet. "It's some of your things from the apartment."

Max's gaze flicked down to the box, then back up to your face. "Why the fuck would you bother?" he growled.

"Because I thought it was the right thing to do," you replied softly just as another sharp cramp hit you , causing you to wince slightly.

Max's expression immediately softened as he saw the pain on your face. "Are you okay?" he asked, taking a step towards you, concern etched onto his features.

"Yeah, uh, I'm fine," you stammered, putting a hand on your belly as the cramp subsided. 

Max nodded, looking relieved. "Good," he said simply, before picking up the box which is when you felt something give way. Suddenly, a flood of liquid soaked your pants and you screamed, clapping a hand over your belly in shock as Max's eyes widened in horror.

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[acknowledge-reigns]

Swipe Right | Roman Reigns x Black!fem OC (18+)

Description: Roman is determined to make things right with Iris.

Chapter: 4/6

Word Count: 1211

Warnings: Praise, very mild arguing, mention of previous divorce.

This is set in an AU in which the og bloodline reunited before wrestlemania 40 and Roman retained. As always my stories are about Roman, not Joe. While there is not smut in the first couple of chapters, there will be in others. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. You have been warned.

Iris walked into the meeting room, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. Setting in the room with some the icons of her childhood such as The Rock, Triple H and Shawn Michaels with them all depending on her to secure the best deal possible for the company.

As she took her seat, she saw Roman sitting across from her. He gave her a small nod, but Iris quickly looked away, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of 'acknowledging' him because well, fuck that.

The meeting began, and They started discussing the details of what WWE would want out of the deal. Iris listened intently, taking notes and asking questions when necessary.

Iris was impressed by the ambition and determination of the WWE executives and top stars. They wanted to expand their reach and increase their revenue, and they were willing to go all out to make it happen.

As the meeting progressed, Iris noticed that Roman was paying close attention to her. He would glance at her every now and then, as if he was trying to gauge her reaction to everything that was being discussed.

"I understand your concerns, but I think we can work out a deal that benefits both parties," Iris said, her voice calm and professional. "We can negotiate terms that ensure that the deal is mutually beneficial and that the rights of both parties are protected so that we get everything WWE requires of the deal, I don't see Netflix or their Attorneys giving us very much push back on any of this."

The WWE executives nodded, impressed by her knowledge and confidence.

"We appreciate your input, Ms. Taylor." Triple H said. "We were looking for a lawyer who can handle the details and help us navigate the legal landscape of the deal in a timely manner so we can get the ball rolling on getting the product out to our fans as soon as possible."

"We knew you were the right choice when Roman recommended you" The Rock spoke up.

Iris could barely hide her surprise at The Rock's words. She hadn't expected Roman to recommend her to the WWE, especially after the way things had ended between them.

"Roman recommended me?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral.

The Rock nodded. "Yeah, he said you were a lawyer and that he trusted you to do a good job."

Roman shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly not expecting his cousin to bring him up.

Iris glanced at Roman, trying to read his expression. Focusing back in on the task at hand, the meeting continued, with the WWE executives discussing the logistics of the deal. Iris tried to focus on the conversation, but her mind kept wandering back to Roman. It was driving her crazy being this distracted when she's used to being laser focused when talking to a client.

After another hour or so of discussion, the meeting finally came to an end. The WWE executives thanked Iris for her input and left the room, leaving her alone with Roman, and Paul who left when Roman shot him a look requesting privacy.

Iris gathered her notes and papers, shoving them into her briefcase. She was about to leave when she heard Roman's voice.

"Hey, can we talk for a minute?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.

Iris hesitated for a moment, unsure if she wanted to talk to him. But something in his voice made her stop.

"Fine," she said, turning to face him. "What do you want to talk about?"

Roman took a step closer to her, his expression serious.

"I just wanted to apologize," he said. "For what happened at Smackdown. I was an ass, and I shouldn't have treated you like that."

Iris raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

"You're apologizing now, after?" she asked. "Why? because I'm representing the company you work for in negotiations?"

Roman sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"No, it's not just because of that," he said. "I've been thinking about what happened, and I realized that I was wrong. I let my emotions get the best of me, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry for that."

Iris studied him for a moment, trying to gauge his sincerity.

"You know, you could have just said that instead of making things worse at Smackdown," she said, her voice laced with a hint of bitterness.

Roman nodded, looking down at the floor.

"I know, I know," he said. "I was stupid. I let my pride get in the way, and I hurt you in the process. I'm not used to being... vulnerable. I'm sorry for that, too."

Roman looked up at Iris, his expression soft.

"I just got divorced," he said quietly. "It was a messy, painful process. We have five kids together... And I don't know if I'm ready to feel again. I don't know if I'm ready to open myself up to someone new."

Iris softened a bit at his words. She could see the pain in his eyes, and she understood what he was going through.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said, her voice gentle. "Divorce is never easy, especially when it's messy and there are kids involved."

Roman took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say.

"I know you have no reason to say yes," he said. "But I was wondering if you would let me take you to dinner. As an apology for everything that happened between us."

Iris hesitated, torn between her anger and her curiosity. She didn't want to give in to Roman's request, but there was a part of her that was tempted.

"Why should I?" she asked, her voice guarded. "You've already apologized. What more do you want from me?"

Roman looked at her, his eyes pleading.

"I want a chance to make things right," he said. "I want to show you that I'm sorry"

Iris was silent for a moment, considering his words. She knew that she shouldn't give in to his request, but there was something about his sincerity that made her reconsider.

"Fine," she said finally. "One dinner. But don't think that this means anything."

As Iris agreed to have dinner with Roman, he smiled at her, relieved that she had accepted his invitation. But then, as he was about to thank her, the words slipped out before he could stop them.

"Good girl," he said, his voice soft and low.

Iris's eyes widened in surprise at Roman's words. She hadn't expected him to say that, she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

Roman realized what he had said and quickly tried to cover it up.

"I mean, thank you," he said hastily. "Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me."

Iris tried to push down the arousal that she felt at Roman's praise, but it was too late. She could feel her body responding to his words.

She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself.

"You're welcome," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Roman could sense the change in her demeanor, and he couldn't help but notice the way she'd been flustered and it sent a thrill through him.

"I'll pick you up at 7," he said, "Wear something nice."

"Yes, My tribal chief." She said sarcastically

Previous Chapter ●◉◎◈◎◉● Next Chapter

[sunsets-and-crows]

I Wanna Be Yours - Chapter 4

Pairing: Sylus X Reader

Words: 5.1K

- - -

Tasked with infiltrating the life of Sylus, the most wanted man in the N109 zone, you're torn between what is right and feels right, blurring the line between duty and desire. As danger escalates, you must decide whether to carry out your mission or succumb to the magnetic pull of the man you're meant to destroy. In this game of power and obsession, betrayal could cost you everything.

Content warnings ⚠️

Dark Themes, Yandere! Reader and Yandere! Sylus! Power play. Violence and Gore. Smut: mutual masturbation. Stalking/surveillance. Reader slowly losing her mind. Sylus being hot and a menace. TRIGGER WARNING: stalking and dubious consent (Reader doesn't know Sylus is also watching her and gets a little handsy with hersef)

If you feel there’s any other warnings I need to add then please reach out and let me know!

The sterile lighting of Captain Jenna’s office cast an unforgiving glow over every surface, from the polished metal of her desk to the file she had in front of her. Your file. The office that had once brought you comfort, now felt cold and oppressive, leaving your nerves on fire. You had been back in the office for only a few hours, just enough time to settle in, before being summoned by your boss. Now, sitting across from her, you could feel the weight of her expectations pressing down on you, like an invisible shackle tightening around your chest.

Jenna’s gaze was sharp and assessing, but there was an unusual glint in her eyes - something unreadable. She would never allow herself to show it, but you knew she held a soft spot for you. Which made you feel even more nervous about the upcoming discussion. Her voice was cool and controlled, as she opened the file and glanced over the last official report before your unexpected week off. 

"So," she began, folding her hands on top of the document, "how have things been progressing? Your notes have been detailed and useful but I wanted to get your view on the situation"

You took a steadying breath, careful to keep your expression neutral, but a faint pulse of anxiety beat under your calm exterior. "I've managed to observe some of his business dealings, mostly just meetings in the N109 zone," you replied, keeping your tone casual. "But... so far, everything I've seen has seemed pretty routine. Business transactions, nothing overtly illegal. I have got a good sense of his routine though, and he does seem to be a creature of habit."

She raised an eyebrow, a hint of scepticism flickering across her face. "Routine transactions in the N109 zone? That’s all" she repeated, almost as if testing you. "Sylus’ illegal activities are well known by the association, I doubt he’s been acting completely above board.” She levelled her gaze at you and you felt your stomach drop. “We need more than just routine observations from you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, and a pang of guilt twisted through you, but you forced yourself to stay steady, meeting her gaze. "I know. And I’m keeping a close eye, but he’s... careful. Nothing about his movements or meetings have given me any solid evidence, yet. But I’m dedicated to ensuring this mission’s success Captain," The words rolled off your tongue with a practised ease that surprised even you, each one a hint of a betrayal that somehow felt both foreign and familiar. 

In truth, the images of Sylus and the blood-stained floors of that dimly lit warehouse were burned into your memory. No amount of justification could scrub them clean, but telling Jenna about that night felt like exposing something raw and vulnerable within yourself. As if reporting it would make your twisted sense of loyalty, of protectiveness, suddenly real and undeniable. You physically couldn’t tell her. 

Jenna nodded slowly, but her eyes hadn’t lost that calculating gleam. "How about this recent meeting with Albert Clements?" she asked, as she flicked through the reports, indicating that specific entry. "There’s been reports that he’s interested in joining forces with Sylus. That could be dangerous, of course, an alliance between his father’s company and Onychinus." Her tone was probing, likely due to that entry being short and noticeably lacking detail. 

You forced a nonchalant shrug, doing your best to appear unaffected, even as the memory of that night flashed vividly behind your eyes. "I was there to observe, but it seemed more like preliminary talks. Clements wants to make a name for himself, but he hasn’t done much yet to earn Sylus’s trust. I don’t think an alliance is likely Captain. Sylus seemed uninterested in the discussion, almost as if he was distracted by something.” 

Captain Jenna tapped her fingers on the file, her gaze sharp and assessing. "Anything else you think I should know? Unusual patterns? Allies he seems particularly close to?"

For a brief moment, you could still feel the ghostly weight of the gun in your hand, hear the muffled shot as you’d acted without hesitation, saving Sylus from betrayal. Allies? Did you count? But instead of confessing, you kept your face impassive, letting none of it show. "Not particularly," you answered, your voice even. "Nothing that stands out."

The silence stretched, her gaze unrelenting as she seemed to study the depths of your expression. A faint tremor rippled through you, but you buried it deep, knowing that any crack, any flicker of doubt, could unravel everything.

Jenna leaned back in her chair and sighed. A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face as her gaze bored into you. "Look," she said, her voice softening slightly, almost as if reaching for an understanding. "I know this assignment is intense, and the N109 zone isn’t an easy place to navigate, but you have to give me something. You’ve been a dependable asset to the Association, Y/N. Your record is commendable. That being said, I need to present something to the higher-ups to prove it." There was a moment’s pause as she regarded you with something close to concern. 

You nodded, trying to maintain an air of confidence. “I understand Captain, I think it might just be that this mission will take a little longer than expected.” Taking a deep breath, you steeled your expression further, fully committing to the web of lies you were spinning. “Captain, I want to do this right, to make sure I have the best information possible so I’m not willing to rush this. You can tell your superiors that I’m fully committed to doing this to the best of my abilities and to that, I need time. There’s a reason that all the other missions failed before me, maybe the common thread is expecting results too soon. Nothing good will come from rushing in and making mistakes.” The words flowed out of you, the slight edge to them spoke of your resolve. Resolve for what? Well, that remained to be seen.

Captain Jenna nodded, the ghost of a smile crossing her lips. "Okay, now that, I can work with. Just remember, the Association has your back. If anything feels off, or if you need help, I need you to report it. I don’t want you getting too deep in this, it isn’t worth losing yourself over. I know you can do this and do it well."

The words struck something deep inside you, a pang of conflict twisting through you. It was almost laughable how far you'd drifted from the Association’s purpose, how tangled you'd become in your own emotions. But you nodded, forcing a small smile to settle on your lips, playing into the comfortable rapport that you two shared. "Understood, Captain," you replied, voice steady. "I’ll make sure to keep that in mind"

Jenna seemed to scrutinise you for a long moment, her gaze heavy with the weight of her expectations. Despite her doubts, you knew she believed in you, in your integrity, that you could stand firm in the face of whatever Sylus represented. And that faith, unspoken but palpable, twisted your gut with a wave of guilt you barely managed to keep hidden.

Finally, she closed the file, tapping it thoughtfully before looking up at you. "I've been thinking that it might be time we begin to push this mission forward," she said, her tone resolute. "Keeping tabs on his routines and associates is all well and good for establishing a preliminary, but if you’re not able to observe anything more useful soon, I think it’s time to move into the second phase of this operation."

Your throat tightened. "The second phase?" you echoed, already knowing the answer.

Jenna nodded. "Start to gain his trust. Get close to him and make contact with him. Become someone useful, someone he can rely on. It’s time to start creating opportunities to make him believe you’re on his side. We should start refining the identity we set up for you. I’ll have someone start working on it"

The weight of her directive settled heavily on you, every syllable pressing against the tangled mess of emotions you’d been hiding. You forced yourself to nod, even as your mind spun, grappling with the impossibility of what she was asking. The idea of getting closer to Sylus, of creating trust, felt like playing with fire - but it also ignited a treacherous thrill inside you. The idea of meeting him finally, having his crimson eyes focused on you, and his sweet honeyed voice saying your name, made your excitement swell.

Jenna's voice softened, her eyes steady. "Just remember... This mission is about bringing him to justice, not getting caught up in his world. You have to maintain your integrity while getting close to him, okay? Don’t lose who you are.” She warned you. “The Hunter’s association will not pardon any illegal activity during this mission unless it’s absolutely necessary, and there will be an investigation should that happen. From now on your reports need to be more detailed.” 

"Understood, Captain," you managed, your voice barely more than a whisper. 

You swallowed hard, the conflict simmering beneath the surface as you held her gaze. She had no idea how blurred those lines had already become, how far you’d drifted from the Association’s purpose. And as you turned to leave, Jenna’s words echoed in your mind, a relentless reminder of the path you were supposed to be walking.

As you stepped out of her office, a sense of foreboding settled over you. You knew you were spiralling into a darkness that neither the Association nor Jenna could pull you from. 

The meeting with Captain Jenna had allowed you to return to surveillance within only a few days of your return to work. It was nice to do away with the usual week of desk work you'd expected to be on after a period of sickness like that. You’d settled back into the routine easily. Daily reports; endless streams of surveillance footage; and the sterile language of mission updates all felt hollow like a pale imitation of the vibrant, chaotic world Sylus inhabited. You’d taken Captain Jenna’s advice, making your reports much more detailed. The fear of being removed from the mission was enough to spark you into overdrive, prompting you to add little embellishments here and there to the official documentation. Well maybe that wasn’t quite true. You’d begun to flat out lie in order to ensure that your reports were satisfactory by the Association’s standards. 

There was only one bright spot that pierced through the dull haze: him. Seeing Sylus, even from a distance, was like inhaling fresh air after being trapped in a suffocating room. His presence was magnetic and ensured that the monotony of your days was well worth the effort you took to remain on this mission. 

The seasons had begun to shift back in Linkon. The crisp mornings and early sunsets reminded you of how fragile the boundary between day and night had become as summer’s oppressive heat gave way to autumn’s cooler days and crisp air. The change was almost imperceptible in the N109 zone however, where the sun rarely shone and the air always seemed thick with tension. The city was dangerous enough in the light, but under the cover of darkness, it transformed into something feral and untamed.

It was one such night that finally tipped you over the edge. 

You had been trailing Sylus all day, tracking his movements with the kind of precision that had become second nature to you now. He’d had a quiet day - no business meetings in his usual haunts, no deals or auctions attended, just the occasional basic errand that seemed beneath a man of his stature. When you finally overheard a mention of him heading to one of his clubs for an “appointment,” your pulse quickened. At last, a change in scenery.

The club he mentioned, Opal Veil, was one of only a few in his business portfolio that you hadn’t visited yet but you knew enough about its general dealings to know that a field trip there would be no walk in the park. Its reputation preceded it - Opal Veil was an exclusive haven for the N109 zone’s elite, where power and wealth mingled under the dim glow of neon lights. The kind of place where alliances were forged over expensive drinks and betrayals were whispered between beats of the music. This wasn’t just a club. It was a domain, his domain.

As you approached the club that evening, it loomed before you like a jewel in the dark. The neon signage bathed the street in a soft, otherworldly glow, the bold letters of standing out against the grimy backdrop of the city. It seemed entirely out of place in the barren alleyway. The low thumping bassline of the music seemed to rattle the building, the boarded up windows rattling slightly as the beat thrummed. Two towering figures flanked the entrance. Their sharp suits and unconcealed firearms marked them as far more than simple bouncers they were clearly not to be messed with. You took a deep breath and continued towards them with what you hoped was an air of arrogance. They watched you approach, their gazes hard and assessing. Both men turned to look at one another, a silent conversation taking place despite no words ever being said out loud. This was it, you were about to lose your chance to get inside. You prepared yourself to be turned away but to your surprise, they stepped aside without a word, allowing you to pass.

Inside, the club was a world of its own. Golden light spilled from ornate fixtures, illuminating the velvet booths and polished wood floors. The bar gleamed under the glow of recessed lighting, patrons flashing black cards and stacks of cash to catch the attention of the overwhelmed bartenders. The dance floor was a sea of movement, bodies swaying and shifting like a tide under the hypnotic pulse of the music. The scent of cigars, top-shelf liquor, and the faint metallic tang of power filled the air, mingling with the subtle but ever-present smell of danger.

Your outfit - a slinky black dress that clung to your curves in ways you weren’t entirely comfortable with - felt almost like a costume. The hemline barely brushed your thighs, and the plunging neckline revealed far more than you’d ever consider appropriate for work, but in a place like this, blending in was paramount. The gun tucked into your clutch was a poor substitute for your usual holster, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. You adjusted the dress once more as you stepped deeper into the club, willing yourself to stay focused.

You were momentarily tipped off balance by an incoming wave of men all dressed in black and clearly not newcomers like you. As they brushed past you, you felt a hand caress your ass and jumped at the contact, feeling completely out of your depth. No one else in the club seemed out of pace, their confidence came from understanding that they were right where they belonged.  People moved with purpose, predators wrapped in silk and sharp suits, their laughter sharp and hollow. Your gaze darted around the room, taking in the opulence and seedy undertones that clung to every corner.

You needed to compose yourself or your presence here would stick out like a sore thumb. You slipped into the bathroom, a sanctuary of warmth and soft golden light. The granite countertop gleamed under suspended lamps, and the faint scent of cedar and expensive soap lingered in the air. You leaned against the cool surface of the sink, your reflection staring back at you.

Your makeup was still flawless, your eyes sharp, but the tension in your shoulders betrayed the nerves simmering beneath your skin. You took a shaky breath, then another, trying to steady yourself. This was just another mission, you reminded yourself. Nothing more. You re-applied your lipstick with slow precision, forcing your trembling hands to still. The glossy sheen felt like a mask - a layer of confidence you desperately needed.

You straightened your posture, smoothing your dress as you turned toward the door. You’d gotten through tougher situations before, you told yourself. This was no different.

But the moment you stepped back into the main room, the world shifted.

Your eyes found him instantly, as though your gaze was magnetically drawn to him, his presence unmistakeable even in the crowded room. Sylus lounged in a private booth, the golden light casting a warm glow over his sharp features. His silver hair caught the light in a way that made it appear almost ethereal, though nothing about him could be called soft. He radiated control and confidence. 

His tailored grey shirt hugged his broad chest and shoulders perfectly, the fabric stretching slightly with every subtle movement. A leather harness wrapped around his torso accentuating the powerful lines and defined musculature beneath. His long legs were stretched out beneath the table, the dark fabric of his trousers perfectly fitted to his form. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Your breath caught as you took him in, the sight of him sending an unbidden heat coursing through your veins. Even seated, he commanded the space, his every movement deliberate, calculated. The smirk playing on his lips suggested he knew exactly how captivating he was—and exactly who was watching him.

Sylus leaned forward slightly, the glow of the light above catching on the sharp planes of his jaw as his gaze flicked across the room, taking everything in with that predatory sharpness. Even here, surrounded by indulgence and luxury, and the elite, he stood out as a person of power. 

And then you saw her.

Lucienne Carrion. The name alone was enough to make your stomach twist. The ruthless leader of Vokoti, an organisation that worked similarly to Onychinus but held nowhere near the same amount of power. . She was dressed in a striking red gown, the fabric clinging to her like a second skin and revealing legs that seemed to stretch for miles. Her dark hair was swept back, her sharp features softened only by the sultry smile she wore as she leaned in close to Sylus. Too close. Her hand rested on his thigh, her long nails tracing idle patterns over the fabric of his trousers. 

Your stomach churned, anger and jealousy twisting together into a suffocating knot. The sight of her touching him ignited something primal in you, a possessiveness that you had no right to feel but couldn’t suppress. He didn’t even know you existed, and yet you felt betrayed, as though his presence with her was a personal affront.

Your mind spiralled, torn between the irrational anger bubbling within you and the cold logic that tried to tell you this wasn’t real. He was supposed to be untouchable, yet here he was, letting her get closer than anyone else ever had. The rational part of your brain left the room, leaving you with only one conclusion to make. The fucker was on a date. He doesn’t know you, the rational part of your mind whispered, but that voice was drowned out by the rush of jealousy that left your hands trembling. 

You moved to the bar, ordering a drink to steady yourself. From your vantage point, you watched them closely, every touch between them like a dagger to your chest. You imagined Lucienne’s head hitting the polished wood of the table, over and over again until the smug smile on her face was replaced by nothing but blood and broken teeth. The thought was so vivid it startled you, and you shook your head, trying to clear the violent imagery.

Sylus’s carmine eyes flicked briefly in your direction, a smirk ghosting across his lips before he turned his attention back to Lucienne. The movement was subtle, so subtle that you missed it entirely.

Sylus grew even more smug at what that little look had revealed to him. He knew you were there. Of course he did. Sylus was always aware of his surroundings, and you had become a part of his landscape - one he found endlessly amusing. He had clocked you the second you had stepped into his club. After all, the security had given him a heads up that his special guest had arrived, just as he knew you would. 

You looked far too tempting for Sylus’ preference. He’d found his thoughts wandering back to the night he’d seen you pleasuring yourself, how delicious your body had looked as you’d writhed in pleasure. Seeing you in that risky little number had his entire body on edge with need.

Pretty little hunter, he thought, the smirk deepening as he watched you from the corner of his eye. The tension in your posture, the way your gaze darted between him and Lucienne - it was written all over you. And oh, how he loved it. You were jealous, and he found it utterly delightful. A spark of satisfaction and pride ran through him, and he leaned into her touch, placing his hand lightly over Lucienne’s as if to seal the intimacy between them.

The sight made your stomach drop, but Sylus felt nothing but delight. He could see the tension in your posture, the way your drink sat untouched on the bar as your attention remained locked on him. Pretty little hunter, he thought with a smirk. How adorable you were, sitting there stewing in jealousy, your emotions practically written across your face.

He leaned closer to Lucienne, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh, the sound low and sultry. He didn’t care about Lucienne, this was a business meeting after all, but the way your jaw tightened at the sight of them together was worth every second of the charade.

Your nails bit into the flesh of your palm, the pain grounding you just enough to keep your composure. You told yourself it didn’t matter, that he didn’t matter, but the bitter taste of betrayal lingered on your tongue. You had killed a man to protect him, had risked everything for him, and now here he was, laughing and leaning into this bitch - allowing someone like her to touch him as though it meant nothing. 

Lucienne’s laughter rang out, a low, sultry sound that only added fuel to the fire burning in your chest. And Sylus - how could he be so casual, so unaffected, when he had consumed your every waking thought? 

Sylus stood, adjusting his shirt collar as he prepared to leave. Lucienne rose with him, her hand trailing down his arm in a gesture that made your teeth clench. He nodded to one of his men, his attention briefly drawn to the movement near the bar. You slipped deeper into the shadows, your mind racing.

How dare he move so freely, so unaffected, while he had consumed every part of you? It wasn’t fair. He had taken up so much space in your mind, haunted your every thought, and yet he lived his life without even a flicker of acknowledgment for what he had done to you. 

As Sylus rose from the booth, Lucienne following closely behind him, you made a decision. You were done playing by the rules of the Hunter’s Association, done trying to reconcile your obsession with the mission. If Sylus was going to consume your every thought, then you would make sure he had no choice but to notice you.

The mission didn’t matter anymore. The only thing that mattered was Sylus - and making him yours, no matter the cost. 

➽──────────────────────────────────❥

Chapter 4 is finally done! This one took me so long and I'm still not entirely happy with it to be honest but if I have to look at it for another day, I might cry!

Please let me know what you think  

❥ Like, reblog, comment, message me, ask me something, literally anything - I live for your feedback on this  ❥

[floredaqueen]

billy and isa after a huge fight? 👀👀 (love, love, LOVVEEE your art and fics! keep up the great work, baby doll! you’re so fab :))

Hello, helloo!!♡

I love love LOOOOVVVEEE YOU!! And you're so lovely ♡♡ I hope I can do your ask justice (also sorry in advance if it takes me forever to finish but I hope you enjoyy♡>///< ♡♡

BLURB +18

TW: Deals w/Bullying, Heavy Profanity, Billy being a dickhead. Hurt w/Comfort The usual ♡

...

Isa and Billy don't really fight, especially since Isa is very conflict avoidant. She's getting better at that communication, but they rarely ever yell, scream, or say mean things to one another. If they ever did fight, it was probably during the first year they met; their senior year...

The first week of senior year for Isabela was like riding a bike. Easy A's all across the board. The Latina was already climbing the academic totem pole, and now, with all of her extracurriculars, she'd be moving faster and to new heights. She made time for other important tasks, not having much of it for boys or crushes.. that is until she heard about the new boy from Cali.

Rumors were already spreading, and he hasn't even been seen on campus anywhere yet. Just a few greetings on account to the popular girls at school, including her friend - and co-captain of the cheer squad- Nova James.

Still, though, to the intelligent Latina, it was all up to interpretation.. until she saw him strutting in with his denim on denim ensemble. His dirty blonde mullet perfectly quafted, and his ocean blue gaze stared down anyone, whether intentional or not. Her Hersheys chocolate gaze heavied one every perfect aspect he had to offer. His chilled chin was probably a dream to lovingly scratch, his very well-shaped hair, his piercing blue eyes that made her fold into herself, and his beautiful smile. He was all perfect.. too perfect.. which is why she wasn't surprised he turned out to be a complete asshole.

When they first crossed paths, he didn't even acknowledge her, the Cali boy bumping into her and only rolling his eyes in annoyance before brushing her off to the side. That when she knew he was a jerk, even if he was the most beautiful boy she's ever seen.

Later that day, she'd see him a few more times. He was notably in her calculus honors class, looking as confused as one who wasn't ready for this level of comprehension. Out of the corner of her wide eyes, Isabela could Billy trying to get someone's attention... and then he turns to her. He turns to her, whispering, "Hey,"s and "Excuse me,"s until he decides to get her attention by force.

The next thing the fresh-faced senorita knows is she's being hit on the side of the head with a balled up piece of notebook paper. She didn't believe it at first, still trying to process it right as he threw another. The second ball of paper clung to her hair as she turned around to face him, an annoyed expression on her face as she met his eyes.

As "taboo" as Isabela was to Billy, he had to admit that she wasn't half bad looking. In fact, she looked veey sweet with her pouting lip. Her eyes were so full and bright even theough her glasses, like a deer. He found it cute when she very clearly was getting nervous just by the look of him. He knew he could have that effect on people.

Billy smiled with teeth, his eyes setting on her filled out worksheet to note that she one hundred percent knew what she was doing. All of the questions filled out precisely by the slightly timid hispanic. A smart girl too? He knew it's be fun to make her lose her cool.

"What?" Isabela would whisper in annoyance, already wanting this interaction to be over. Of course, quite the opposite happened, Billy dragging on his words as if he was spelling it out for her. top!

"You mind helping me with this assignment? I'm a little lost," He asked, all with a toothy smile. Isa dead panned for a moment, letting herself express a bit of her annoyance with an eyebrow before turning to her own worksheet.

"Clearly," She muttered under her breath before handing him her notes. He looked over them and then stashed them in his notebook on the other side of her desk.

"The hell are you doing??"

"I'm gonna need this if I plan on passing any assignments for this week," Isabela huffed at his snark response as she tried to snatch his folder. Swiftly he moved his things, and her worksheet, away from her grasp.

"Give it back!" She whispered with an annoyed twitch with her upper lip. She even tried to grab at it, Billy quickly gripping her wrist only to throw her hand back in her direction.

"I don't hear that magic word, sweetness," With an eye roll and the crossing of her arms, Isa let it go, hoping she can get it back at least at the end of the day.

...

It'd be like that for the rest of the school year. Isa would be minding her business (and admiring Billy from afar) and the asshole in question would tease her and steal her work if he managed to get his hands on it. As annoying as it was it never got violent.. and it was pretty tame.. until one day.

Isa couldn't shake the feeling of so many eyes on her. She was able to hold her head high, but it felt near impossible today. When she did catch a few guys staring and snickering, she realized it was at her.. was there something on her face? In her hair..? What was their deal??

The hispanic scholar would soon find that out when she was approached by Tommy Hagan. The freckle covered guy was snickering as he walked over, crossing his sweater clad arms as he leaned against the locker beside hers.

"Wheeler, when were you gonna let me in on your dirty little secret..?" He jibed mischievously as Isa attempted to ignore him while retrieving her materials for her next class.

"What are you on about, Hagan..?" She turned to face him, her eyes rolling in response to his snarky grin. He casually shrugged his arms, not-so-subtly cornering her against the metal lockers while simultaneously spilling all of beans to her.

"Well, it seems that a hefty amount of my friends know what's under that pretty skirt of yours.. and I was wondering if I could get in on th-" Before Tommy could even finish his sentence, he was met with a hard slap against his face. It even has him stepping back a bit, giving Isabela ample time to hastily walk away from that conversation.

She knew for a fact he was spouting bullshit.. but it was strange that he had the balls to tell her, so who told him that? Who would even believe it? Whoever it was, she couldn't take for another second someone trying to shit on her perfect reputation and perception of who she really was.

By 6th period, things had only gotten worse, the overwhelmed Isabela finding herself hiding behind the abandoned bleachers that clung to the outskirts of the outdoor basketball court. She was calming herself down, attempting to get lost in one of her favorite Shakespeare fables, wondering if she'd ever find something as tantalizing as this culture phenomenon wrote about instead of having to deal with the likes of these jerks in this podink town..

One of her dainty, delicate hands wiped the tears developing in her eyes from the thought of all the mean and assuming words that were thrown her way today. Isa continued to keep her focus on the pages until she heard a snap of a twig.

The snap was caused by none other than the pretty boy she's been trying steadily to avoid, one of his calloused hands running through dirty blonde curls as the other flicked at his lighter to light the cigarette between his full lips.

She thought quickly.. too quick. She practically scattered as she jumped off the bleachers only to hide behind them on the other side as the rest of possey appeared beside him. The hung out beside on her side, too close to wear she kept herself as hidden as she could.

Their conversation went about as the latina thought it would, overhearing the socialites go on and on about on about their usual. Having or crashing parties, stealing booze from their parents' liquor cabinets, unprotected sex in the most obscene of places.. and girls.. but not just any girls. It was hurt they were joking about..

"Man, Isabela is so damn up tight," Tommy starts with a heavy huff. The side of his face was stilly slightly red from the hearty slap the latina previously gave him.

"The prude acts like she has a stick up her ass every time a guy walks up to her," He jibed, earning a soft giggle from Carol as they both relaxed against the brick wall.

"Only because she's never had dick in her life," She deduced, taking another hit of her tobacco stick.

"Yeah.. because she's boring," Billy finally snorts while crossing his denim covered arms. They both look at him with curious eyes, confused about his knowledge of the mouse that was way closer than they thought she was.

"I dont know about you, but I'm not getting a hardon for someone who's probably going to end up with cats because she doesn't know how to open her legs, "

The other takes, Isa's heard before. They were superficial and petty, especially coming from the two infamous idiots who's never worked for anything. But from Billy? Like an idiot, she thought he'd be above this, but his words hit right on her already racing heart.

"Good point," Tommy nodded, stomping out how own cig as Billy started.

"That's why I spread that rumor about her. Was trying to do her a favor. Maybe she'll actually get laid and get her first taste of dick.." The blonde said matter-of-factly as if she should be thanking him.

"Seems Billy has a soft spot for the prude," Carol would scoff teasingly, her face practically egging him on to prove her wrong. Billy, of course, denies her accusation.

"Nah. You won't ever see me going out with that bitch.."

All of those words.. those mean hurtful words. As much as she promised herself not to let it hurt her, Isa couldn't stop the constant stream of tears going down her cheeks. She tried to remain quiet, but a soft sniff of a breath gave her away.

"Who's there??" The alpha of the pack of wolves called out, his sharp blues finding sorrowful wide does eyes as Isa revealed herself to the group. They all sighed, embarrassed that she just happened to be there to listen to the conversation about her. With the tears still running down her glowing cheeks, they felt a little guilty. Not Billy, though. All Billy could think about was how pretty she looked when she cried. All sweet and innocent, even if they're hope was crushed.

"..you spread those rumors about me..?"

"C'mon, Wheeler- it was a j-"

"You're the reason why guys are following me??? Why everyone is calling me a slut, and how I simplemente no puedo guardarlo en mis pantalones cuando tÚ ERES EL VERDADERO PERRO,"

It was silent for a few seconds after that, the wind the only thing between them before Billy broke the airy stillness with a chuckle.

"You're just upset that I wouldn't waste my time on someone like you.. but," He lazily takes a heavy step forward in her direction.

"If you keep that up..." The way his eyes relaxed gave Isa pause, and then she could feel her body tense as he invaded her space. "..I might throw you a bone,"

Right then and there, she completely tensed, her hand swinging open palm to connect with his face for a hard slap. Neither of them had time to register it as the left side of Billy's face stung.

"You don't know what I could do for you," Isa's voice shook in a shaky whisper, stepping ever closer towards her bully.

"You thinking thay one would get a leg up just by being with you, when you can't even fathom how lucky you'd be to have me. To be with me..." Her sharp eyes stayed on Billy as he scoffed and kept his head held high, obviously not expecting the slightly menacing utterance of her words. For some reason, it was hard to keep a steady eye contact.. The braniac then tilted her head as her brows furrowed.

"..maybe, you wouldn't be so insecure.." was the last thing she said before she turned around and grabbed her things. Billy sucked his teeth, not even realizing that his nails were digging into his own palms.

He watched as everyone around him brushed it off as her being sensitive.. but he knew she was right. And that was something he hated about her. She was always. Fucking. Right.

...

Every other day after, Billy couldn't ignore the heavy weight in his chest. Best believe he tried, using all the usual tricks he had up his denim sleeve. But no matter how much drugs, girls, and bench pressing he did, he knew what he had to do to really get over.

Suddenly, after the usual attempt to mind melt at one of Tommy's parties, he found himself at the Wheeler residence. It was nicer than he anticipated, turning off the loud engine so as not to disturb anyone else.

Isabela was half asleep, cuddling her pillow in nothing but a tank top, mint colored undies, and sunflower socks she had recently bought from the mini market. So, when she heard -and soon saw- rocks being thrown at her window..

Begrudgingly, she got up, her footsteps as light as a feather. Billy annoyingly felt his body slightly perk uo at the sound of the front door unlocking, only to see Isa all tuckered out and peering up at him.

"Good, I got your attention.." He jibed, his hands stuffed in his jean pockets as his sharp blues took her in. Usually, Billy excelled at eye contact.. but this time around, his eyes roamed a lot more than he meant for them to.

Her curls were all messy, her nipples were poking out of her baby tee, and her bottom lip was pouted out. Fuck. Out of all the times to feel something for this girl, this was the worst time.

"What do you want, Hargrove?" She huffed, watching as he slightly awkwardly straightened up.

"I just wanted to.. uh.." He began to trail off, his eyes drifting down to her legs. Billy then only realized how he's never seen them before. They've been hidden by all the loose jeans and maxi skirts she'd wear.

He didn't expect them to be so.. toned. Every smooth curve was built with muscle even though she was known to be light on her feet. Not to mention her huge thighs.

"Yea- okay.." She rolled her eyes, going to close the door in his face only for Billy to swiftly propped his arm up against the hatch.

"I came here to... apologize" There was a long pause after that, the latina blinking a couple of times before parting her lips.

"Well, you're very bad at it," He scoffed, annoyed at her snarky remarks she'd conjure up from every word he spoke.

"Yeah, I've gathered that," He'd pause, letting the air between them fill the silence for a bit as he thought about what to say.

"You didn't deserve what I put you through. It wasn't right, and—" and as he continued to practally ramble, Billy became all the more aware of being under her scrutiny. He could feel her big brown, fatigued eyes studying his every word before her whole demeanor relax.

This.. this whole situation was weird. Why the hell did he feel like this? No girl has ever made him think twice about the words that would flawlessly flow from his kissable lips. And out of all the girls at Hawkins, it was some measly little book worm that had him fumbling.

Isa wasn't doing good either. She was starting to believe him, her mind running through his emotions as he spoke. Billy seemed sincere, but Latina refused to expose her sympathy. Her expression stayed neutral.

By the end of it, the silence between them returned and thickened, Billy cleared his throat before he crossed his strong arms.

"..As much as your apology is appreciated, I don't accept it..." She softly spoke, grabbing the edge of the hatch. As he tried to protest, he was met with a door being shut in his face.

♡♥︎♡...♥︎♡♥︎

[nanowrimo]

When Is a Small Press a Good Fit?

When it comes to publishing, many writers will think about big publishers first. However, there are a lot of different publishing options out there to explore. NaNo participant and author, Clara Ward, talks about their experience publishing with a small press and gives you questions to consider while you think through your publishing options!

NaNoWriMo inspired me to write. Signing with a small press gave me the support I needed to publish a book I love. 

I’d published books before—starting with NaNoWriMo sponsor deals in the early days of online publishing—but I never had the right skill set to promote those books. As a result, they never truly found their audience. 

In November of 2020, I poured my heart into a genre-blurring near-future tale of sailing across the Pacific and building a neurodiverse, queer, and possibly magical chosen family. In 2021, I titled it Be the Sea and asked myself: What am I going to do with that?

1. Are you looking for fame or family?

Small presses are as varied as the people who form them. If you read widely, you may already have a treasured book on your shelf from your publisher-to-be. Try asking NaNoWriMo friends who share your interests if they’ve discovered any surprising or emerging sources for great reads. (At the very least, you may find books you’ll love in unexpected places!)

Admittedly, a small press doesn’t have a fortune to spend on paving your path to fame. But I have never felt as seen as when my soon-to-be publisher, E.D.E. Bell at Atthis Arts, wrote back, “I’m really in love with what you are doing and would like to talk about it.” 

2. Do you have the bandwidth for working with others?

Even with the most supportive small press, you may have to push outside your comfort zone. I know authors who love the absolute control and freedom of self-publishing. For a time, I felt very comfortable just posting my NaNoWriMo fanfiction novels on Archive of Our Own. At most, I had one or two beta readers to offer feedback on those works. Whereas E.D.E. told me in one of our earliest conversations that in addition to our three rounds of editing we’d need “a good number of betas” to cover the range of topics we were working on together.

I was delighted! I knew what I’d written was ambitious, and I welcomed all the feedback I could get. But it turns out, each extra person in a process adds new challenges and delays. I had to stretch my empathy as well as my publishing timeline because, to quote E.D.E. again: “It’s a lot of emotion (as well as brain cycles) to go through...” Outside perspectives will only improve your writing if you are willing to work with them, to truly listen and learn.

3. Can you handle the two-way commitment?

No form of publishing is easy. The myth that authors write while others handle business and promotion is not true at the top, and certainly not with small presses. In my experience, working with Atthis Arts was like joining a team or chosen family. Beyond certain paid tasks, such as editing and sensitivity reading, I discovered a community of authors who freely offered coaching before my first public reading, social media boosting, tips for author webpages, and an extra pair of eyes on letters requesting bookshop readings or other events. While not all small presses work the same way, this supportive culture proved to be an excellent fit for me. Naturally, I wanted to give back whenever possible.

Small presses can only succeed with community. This month, as I promote the launch of Be the Sea at bookshops in Mountain View, Davis, and Sacramento, I will be introducing many Californians to my Michigan-based small publisher, Atthis Arts. When I stand up as a panelist at Norwescon in Washington state or at various science, library, or Pride events later in the year, I’ll be promoting more than Be the Sea by Clara Ward. I’ll give back by sharing my appreciation for small presses, the supportive and inclusive practices they can normalize, and the opportunities they open up for future writers and readers. 

Clara Ward lives in Silicon Valley on the border between reality and speculative fiction. Their latest novel, Be the Sea, features a near-future ocean voyage, chosen family, and sea creature perspectives, while delving into our oceans, our selves, and how all futures intertwine. Their short fiction has appeared in Strange Horizons, Decoded Pride, Small Wonders, and as a postcard from Thinking Ink Press. When not using words to teach or tell stories, Clara uses wood, fiber, and glass to make practical or completely impractical objects. More of their words along with crafted creations can be found at: https://clarawardauthor.wordpress.com

Photo by Hümâ H. Yardım on Unsplash

[idk6123]

The Perfect Student & The Delinquent (Mickey Milkovich X Male Reader)

Mickey never have been one for doing homework, or just doing anything school related at all. Some people call him stupid because of that, but he just doesn’t care. He knows how to make money and that is enough for him. He’s done with school, but school isn’t done with him. And this is school we’re talking about; they’re going to bother him about it by shoving the responsibility to someone else.

That’s when Y/N appears, one of the best students in the school. Mickey knew him. He’s a quiet kid. He didn’t find him annoying enough to beat him up, or rich enough to steal from. Thus, they never interact. However, that all starts one day, when the school hold Y/N responsible for getting Mickey’s grade up. Feeling screwed, he’s going to help Mickey without having much motivation.

“How the fuck should I suppose to know how algebra works!?”

“Maybe you know when you come to fucking class!”

“Maybe if you cut some class, you realize that’s the best way to not get your ass kicked!”

That’s when Y/N hold Mickey in a position that the punk can’t counterattack. Feeling his face against the floor, he looks at the side of eyes and look up to see Y/N, sitting on his body.

“You look like you want to fuck me.”

“Yeah, fuck you over if you don’t shut the fuck up and do your homework.”

To be honest, Mickey is quite surprised that Y/N isn’t the quiet kid he expected him to be. He thought the top student was some shy, timid guy that only wants to do homework, not a martial artist that has no time for bullshit.

“So, you want to lie down while I’m on top off you, or do you want to do something useful?”

Mickey scoffs. “Fine. Get your fat ass off me.”

“At least I got a nice ass.”

They sit down again at the couch and recontinue Mickey’s homework. As Y/N guides him, he notices how much Mickey is struggling with math, causing some frustration. Even after math, Mickey is struggling with almost every subject. English, chemistry, biology, you name it. Y/N bets the only class he can do is PE.

As Mickey continues to struggle on the task, Y/N can tell he’s going to burst out in anger anytime soon. “Let’s take a break.” Mickey looks back, staying quiet. “Got somethin’ to drink?”

“Beer is in the fridge.” Mickey answers. Y/N stands up and heads to the kitchen. “Grab one for me.”

Y/N does that, bringing back two beers. He hands one over to Mickey. After they pop off the caps, they both take a sip at the same time.

“Are you some masochist for doing this shit?”

“Nope. Just someone who hopes for a big job and get rich.” Y/N responds. “Get in a good college first though. You?”

“I just steal the money. We should stay in contact, just in case you get rich.”

Y/N chuckles. “Any chance you get any money from me if you’re either my husband or my sugar baby.”

“That’s a hard pass.”

For the rest of the day, after having their break, Y/N helped Mickey, tutoring him in about every subject. That being said, it doesn’t look bright.

-

It’s another day where Y/N helps Mickey. The straight A student made sure to reflect why Mickey isn’t doing well, not wanting to write it off with him just being dumb. Thus, after changing the homework just a bit, he manages to do something that may help Mickey.

“’In a week, your crew makes these many drug deals: 7, 5, 8, 6, 9, 4, 10. What's the median number of deals?’” This is the first question Mickey read, only thinking what happened to his homework. “What the hell is this?”

“I’m helping you. Now you can use math in your future business.” Y/N responds. “Now, try to figure it out.”

Mickey then looks back at the paper. For whatever reason, he appears he knows what he’s actually doing. He doesn’t look confused, instead he looks focused. “7 deals.”

“Right!” Y/N is happy Mickey finally got something right. “Now to the next.”

“’You got two weapons suppliers. One brings you 2x units and the other brings 3x units. If x is 5, how many total units you got?’” Mickey looks back at his tutor. “25 units.”

“Holy-” Y/N is surprised how well things are going. “Write down the solution.” Without any fuss, Mickey writes down the solution. Afterwards, he gives the paper back at Y/N. “Correct.”

Mickey smirks, grabbing the paper back. “And here people thought I was some dumbass.”

“Well, you proved them wrong.”

-

Now that every question is changed into a language into something Mickey comprehends, the speed of doing his homework changed from an entire day into 2 hours, with most of the time the questions correctly answered.

“’If you take a hit and your arm’s bleeding, which system in your body rushes to patch up the hole?’ The circulatory system.”

“’You got a new batch of goods, and you see the demand go up. If you usually move 50 units at $20 each, but now you can push 70 units at the same price, what’s the total revenue now?’ $1400.”

“If you're 'running' from the police, how do you say, 'we run' in Spanish?”

"Nosotros corremos"

Times passes quickly as Mickey completes his homework. After doing so, Y/N is wondering what kind of grade he gets. And it turns out he managed to get a…

“B+!”

Mickey looks surprised. “In total?”

“Yeah.” Y/N looks happy for his classmate. “You did great. Now you have to rely on regular questions, or you have to use your fantasy to turn it in something fun.”

“Do the second one.” Mickey answers. “To be honest, I’m surprised school can help me in my future.”

“The future full of crime.”

“Yep, and I give all the credit to you, not those assholes.” Mickey refers to the teachers without shame.

Y/N smirks. “They really are assholes. They black mailed me to tutor you, y’know?”

“They did?” Mickey is surprised, thinking it’s ridiculous. “Fucking bastards…” He then thought of something. “We should get revenge.”

“Whaddaya mean? You talking about a school shootin’ or somethin’?”

“No, just destroying the principal’s office. And for good sake, his car.”

Y/N thought about it, not declining the idea at first, causing Mickey to smile with glee. Feeling like he wants to bite back, the usually good student caves in. “Only after you ace your tests.”

Mickey offers a fist-Bumb, which Y/N accepts. “Deal.”

-

Y/N awaits outside of the classroom, wanting to see Mickey after finishing his last test. As Y/N daydream off, his eyes suddenly went wide awake when Mickey gets out of the classroom with a smirk on his face.

“And?”

“Not a problem.”

“Nice.” Y/N offers a high-five, which Mickey accepts.

“Now it’s for me to help your ass.” Mickey gestures his friend to follow him. They get to his locker, where Y/N sees multiple tools of destructions in the locker. “You’re backing down?”

Y/N grabs a hammer, checking it out. “Nah, they need to learn to not mess with me.”

Mickey looks proud. “Glad you’re not a pussy.”

After gathering their equipment, they get to the principal office. They see it’s empty, though locked. Using his lock-picks, Mickey opens the door, causing them to get access in the office. They look around, with Mickey looking back at his new delinquent friend.

“Want to do the first honour?”

Y/N holds the hammer tighter, with his eyes locking on the pc. With a heavy slam, the computer receives a massive hole, following up with another slam and another one. That’s when Y/N grabs what remained and throws it aside to stomp on it.

“There you go!” Mickey looks excited. He then gets to the desk, where he takes out all of the drawers to throw it away. “Let’s go wild!”

Chaos enfolds the entire room, as the two delinquents destroy the entire office. The shelves broken on the floor. All the files ruined and ripped apart. The chair being thorn into two. They even tagged the wall with a penis.

“You have a talent for making very gorgeous dicks.”

Mickey chuckles. “Naturally born talent.” He looks back at his friend. “And now we have made our territory.”

“Like a dog?”

“Yep.” Mickey hands move to his pants to unbuckle. He notices Y/N just standing. “You’re not joining?”

“I just think we should aim higher.”

“Like a shit?”

“No.” Y/N looks back at the desk. “Think anyone ever cummed on the desk?”

Mickey stops what he’s doing and looks back. “You want to fuck on the desk?”

“I don’t mean together.” Y/N clarifies himself, thinking Mickey is straight. “We could have turns jerking off.”

Mickey then just smirks. “Not the best time wise. It’s better we do it at once.”

“Huh?”

That’s when Mickey gets to Y/N to ambush him with a kiss, though surprised for a second, he quickly kisses back. The two guys quickly move to the table, where both guys begin undressing each other to take the ultimate insult.

-

“I think we’ve done enough orgies.”

“When is enough enough?” Mickey responds back.

They just stole the principle’s car and park it somewhere isolated, where Y/N and Mickey send another message from inside the car, multiple times.

Both guys are sitting in the front seat, where they chat as they’re covered in each other’s clothing.

“Well, I’m tired.”

“Of sex?”

“Yeah, l like it more dispersed.” Y/N grabs his boxers and put them on. “You’re one freaky shit to be able to have sex so many rounds.”

“Thanks.” Mickey merely responds. “There is more where that came from.”

Y/N hums. He grabs his t-shirt to put it on. As he does, he looks back at the guy next to him. “You’re staying naked?”

“I’m still up for one more round.”

“You really are a degenerate.” Y/N chuckles. “Well, the longer we stay here, the quicker the principle notices his car gone missing and the cops to find us.”

Mickey hums and think about it. “Right, I can’t really afford that.” That’s when he starts dressing up too.

“We can always do it another time.”

Mickey looks back to see a smirking man, giving him a smirk back. “I like the sound of that.”

-

“Got a B for math.” Mickey announces when Y/N walked in his house.

“Nice going.” Y/N looks proud. “And nice for me for being such a good and perfect teacher.”

“I wanna make a remark but consider the rest of my grades are all great, I let it pass.” Mickey goes to the fridge to grab a beer for him and Y/N. “Did you hear about principle shitface?”

Y/N smirks. “What about him?”

Mickey goes back to Y/N to hand over a beer. “Wasn’t too fond to discover cum on his desk, as well in his car.”

“Nice.” Y/N laughs. He put up his beer. “Fuck the principle!”

“Fuck the principle!”

Mickey and Y/N both cheer, celebrating their victorious, whether it’s from Mickey getting good grades, or Y/N standing up for himself, or their new find friendship that will turn into something more.

[wrestlingwithlife]

4th of July Fun

Given the location of the military base the Task Force resided in it was no surprise that the 4th of July wasn’t a big deal. In fact, most didn’t even know of it, but the American soldiers are hell bent on celebrating with as much fried food and fireworks as possible.

Task Force 141 x Male!Cowboy!Reader

—————————————————————————————————————

“Of course I’m paying for them.” Y/n rolled his eyes as if it was the most simple thing. He held the phone to his ear, listening to the man on the other side of the call whine that they didn’t want Cowboy to have to pay for everything.

“Joel it’s fine, it’s no big deal… Yes I know it’s a lot of money… Yes I can pay for it… Joel, buddy, you think someone who own hundreds of acres of land and countless heads livestock is poor… Exactly, now you and the guys pick the best fireworks and I’ll deal with the rest.”

Y/n sighed as he hung up the phone, but he couldn’t help but smile. It was endearing that they didn’t want him to have to do and pay for everything, but it was just easier.

Cowboy turned around, nearly jumping out of his skin at the looming figure of Ghost standing behind him. Y/n clutched over his heart. “Holy shit, Ghost we have got to get you a bell or something.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at the comment, but he quirked his brow at the American male. “What exactly do you need that many fireworks for?”

The h/c haired male perked up, eyes shining with excitement. “Oh! Me and the other American soldiers got clearance to celebrate the 4th of July!”

Ghost knew the 4th of July was a big deal in America, but he had never bothered to look into it. “How exactly do you celebrate the 4th of July?”

“Oh it’s great!” Y/n beamed, motioning Ghost to follow him as he walked. “There are lots of fireworks, food, and yard games.”

Ghost couldn’t help but allow his lips to curl into a smile as Cowboy rambled on, giddy with excitement. He turned his bright e/c eyes up to Ghost, smiling wide. “You and the others should come out when we do it! The more the merrier!”

Ghost hummed in thought, but he knew ultimately there was no way he could say no to Cowboy. “Alright.”

Y/n beamed at Ghost, giving him a quick hug before bounding off to finish his plans. Ghost smiled, eyes trained onto the other male as he left.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜

Ghost’s eyes trailed around the hustle and bustle of the celebration. There were more American soldiers on the base then he’d originally thought, all of them were dressed rather patriotically with a few even having random red, white, or blue hand prints on their bodies.

The task force wandered about the place as they looked for their American teammate. They took the opportunity to soak in everything.

There were stands selling fried foods that they would have never even dreamed of. There were some soldiers who had tents set up as they grilled beneath them, chatting ideally as they did so.

There were games like corn hole, yard darts, and even Ladder toss. A larger group of soldiers were gathered around some sort of inflatable, the occasional loud cheers erupting from the group as well as a few chants.

Curiosity got the better of the task force and they wandered over, now able to see that the inflatable was a mechanical bull. The group’s jaws dropped when they saw the man riding the bull.

Cowboy’s legs were pressed tight to the bull, his hips moving effortlessly as the man controlling it worked to fling him off. The man sported a loose red and blue tank top, a few white hand prints littered down his chest.

Y/n held his cowboy hat in one hand as he used the other to grip onto the rope of the bull. His wide grin and occasional whoop made it clear he was having a blast. Price swallowed, shifting a bit as he watched the way the southern male’s body moved and grinded as he rode.

After a while longer Y/n was finally flung off the bull, his grin never once faltering. Once he stepped off the inflatable he was given a multitude of praise and pats on the back, but once he saw his task force he was quick to scurry over to them, leaving the poor attempts at flirting in the dust.

Soap smirked, shooting the soldiers Cowboy had left behind a victorious smirk.

“I’m so glad you guys decided to come out!” Y/n beamed, e/c eyes glistening like jewels in the bright sunlight.

“Oh, come on now. You know we wouldn’t miss it for anything.” Soap reassured, throwing an arm around the male in tugging him close. Now that he was much closer he took a moment to look at the hand prints on Y/n’s chest.

Given Y/n’s clean hands and the position of the prints it was clear they were given by someone else. Soap irked a bit with jealousy when he could see the beginning of two hand prints that rested exactly on the thick males pecs, but he wasn’t given time to dwell on it as Y/n dragged him off to enjoy the festivities, the others trailing behind.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜

The five spent their time eating more fried foods than they had probably eaten in their entire lives. Y/n also introduced them to more American dishes and traditions, and Cowboy and Ghost absolutely demolished Soap and Gaz in corn hole.

It wasn’t much longer before the sun began to set and the sky grew dark, Y/n practically buzzed with excitement as he led the four to a good spot to watch the fire works.

“Gotta say, this is more fun than I’d thought it would be.” Gaz hummed as Price and Y/n set up the blanket for them all to sit on.

The h/n haired male beamed up at Gaz. “I’m glad you guys liked it! Maybe next year we can get some time off and I can have you over to my hometown to celebrate! They really know how to party.”

Before anyone could get out another word there was a loud whistling and a fiery streak across the sky followed by a big red explosion that lit up the entire area. The five of them immediately looked up as the fireworks began.

The group watched in wonder in awe of each firework, faces lighting up under the glow.

Gaz’s eyes trailed down, cutting over to look at Cowboy. Each new flash of light lit up the male’s beautiful face. His eyes shone like glass and his fluffy h/c locks were still tousled from the day.

Gaz looked down to where Y/n’s hand rested on the ground, keeping him propped up. The British male looked back up to the sky, but moved his hand to rest over Y/n’s own.

The American soldier didn’t even need to look down. He smiled, turning his hand over so he could hold Gaz’s own. Gaz’s heart almost leaped out of his chest when Y/n’s fingers laced with his

Perhaps he had a new favorite holiday.

————————————————————————

I had this queued up and when I came in and saw it didn’t post I realized I had set it for the wrong date so that’s nice 💀 Glad I checked

I hope you all enjoyed! Happy 4th to everyone and if you don’t celebrate that hope you have a lovely day!!

- Author~Chan out ✌️

[itjazzbicch]

What Friends Are For

Pairing:  Johnny Cage x Reader x Kenshi Takashi

Summary: After saving their best friends' lives in Outworld, the reader, Johnny, and Kenshi, continue with their lives, but Johnny and Kenshi don't forget how the reader saved them and decide to repay them and help them with an important goal in their life...

Quick Note: This was a request from my Wattpad! Johnny is the color yellow in dialogue, and Kenshi is blue!

Warnings:  Flashback (it is italicized), The Reader is mentioned to come from a family of warriors, spoilers for Kenshi's MK1 Tower Ending.

Word Count: .8k 

"So, you guys finally going to tell me what the big deal is?"

Johnny, Kenshi, and I became great friends after being chosen as Lord Lui Kang's champions. Although our tasks as champions were no longer our top priority, we were still friends and helped each other in life.

Kenshi went on to work for the new international agency, the OIA. Johnny was doing great things in Hollywood, but I still had a goal to fulfill.

"We have a surprise for you," Kenshi hinted, able to hear the excitement in his voice as they led me into his office. Johnny added as he flashed a smile:

"And you will love it!"

"Just tell me already!" I groaned, pouting at them, "I'm too impatient for surprises."

"Well, let's just say-" Kenshi began, Johnny ending for him:

"We're finally repaying you for saving our lives."

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

"Y/N, just run-"

Kenshi got his eyes gouged out, Johnny was wounded, and we were trapped in Shang Tsung's repulsive laboratory, terrifying tarkatan clones trying to attack us.

"We'll just drag you down," Kenshi pleaded in defeat, "Save yourself."

"Not a chance in hell!" Smashing down those clones with my magic, I finally got all of them, needing all my strength to keep Kenshi around me, Johnny in my free arm as he couldn't walk, determination beaming from my heaves, "There's no way I'm leaving you, guys! We'll make it out of this, I swear! Just hang on for me."

It was hard to escape as they needed my strength and guidance, but I was bound to prevail. Enemies kept coming for us, and my determination only grew stronger, facing not only Quan Chi in the living forest soon after but his abomination in Ermac, keeping my promise to Kenshi and Johnny as I stood firm and tall before them, squaring off with Ermac:

"You'll have to kill me if you think you'll lay so much as a finger on my friends!"

Ermac was strong and he was able to knock me down a couple times, but I kept getting right back up.

“Y/N, please, save yourself!”

I was struggling to get up, half my face in the dirt but seeing that monster going after Kenshi and Johnny, he must’ve thought he finished me off.

Something completely took over my body. I couldn’t feel a thing, my vision like pictures, seeing my fist charged with magic, punching Ermac into the ground with it crumbling beneath him, roaring:

“I TOLD YOU! YOU WON’T LAY A FINGER ON THEM!”

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

"Guys-" I sighed, shaking my head at them, "You don't need to repay me for that. You're my best friends, and that's what friends do. So-"

"Ah, ah! Zip it!" Johnny shushed me, placing a finger over my lips; Kenshi was joking but serious as he shut the door:

"Too bad. We're repaying you."

"With that?" I wondered, knowing they wouldn't give this up, swatting Johnny's hand away and observing as he went over to a safe with Kenshi.

I tried to peak over them to see but didn't have a single clue as to what they were planning to surprise me with. Clueless, my eyes fixed on Johnny's hands, something hidden in his palms.

"You were right about friends helping each other," Johnny began to smile at me. This must have been something important, but nothing was popping into my mind for some reason.

"Instead of us 'repaying you,' consider this to be us helping you out," Kenshi smiled, looking as Johnny opened his hands, and what I saw nearly made me faint.

My ancestors were warriors, and for centuries, there was a stone they passed down from generation to generation. It held imaginable power, and with that power came wick beings who wanted it for their evil ambitions.

I searched far and wide for it and failed to find it. It wasn't its power that I wanted, but to bring it home where it belonged, with me and my people.

"W-Where-" I swallowed, shaking from the shock, hesitant to touch it, "Where did you find this?"

"Shang Tsung came after me because of Sento," Kenshi explained, "We're dealing with him, but during an ambush, I found that in one of his secret laboratories."

"We know how much this means to you, so," Johnny held it out with a smile, urging me to take it, "It's all yours now."

"This can't be real," I whispered, pupils expanding as I took it delicately. It was beautiful, sparkling colors of the rainbow as it shone in the light, this weird feeling soaking and washing over me. My life felt complete with this stone in my hands, happiness overtaking me so strongly that I began to cry, repeating, "This can't be real."

"It's real," Kenshi patted my back softly, relating to me, "I know how it feels. When I finally got my hands on Sento, the feeling was indescribable."

"You're welcome," Johnny mumbled jokingly, making me giggle and smile more at the stone, clenching it tightly in my fist as I jumped to pull them both into a tight hug, crying happily:

"Thank you so much. You two are the best, I swear."

"It's what friends do, remember?" Kenshi reminded me, hugging me back, as did Johnny, who squeezed me:

"You saved our lives; it's the least we can do."

I couldn't ask for greater friends; they changed my life for the better and continue to do so; my heart was overwhelmed with joy, needing them to know that I meant wholeheartedly, "You guys are the best thing that's ever happened to me." 

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome 

[john-get-the-salt]

Coincidences w/ Ted Lasso

Imagine: A series of seemingly random coincidences lead you to meet a dashingly handsome football coach.

Contains: ted pining hardcore, small age-gap, fem!reader who is a singer, mentions of roy x keeley

Warnings: none

The first coincidence was Rebecca deciding she needed to work on her delegation skills, leading her to give Keeley the job of finding a performer of some sort for the annual AFC Richmond charity gala. The young woman preened at the task, and coincidentally knew exactly who she had to have.

You hadn't seen Keeley in nearly a year by that point. As a semi-popular American singer heading your very own world tour, you had little free time. But the two of you had kept in contact, calling and texting all the time. You met her a few years back on a shoot for a magazine spread on you and your music, by pure coincidence. She was the sweetest thing and you two became fast friends, despite you being a few years older than her. You had a lot in common and were very similar people.

Which was why, when she reached out with her proposal, you didn't hesitate to agree. In all honestly, you admitted to her, you'd been looking for a reason to relocate to England for a while now. Queue coincidence. It was your favorite place you'd ever been- and you'd been around a lot. You were also tired of life on the road. You were getting older, entering your late 30's, and you'd gained a strong desire to settle in one place and work more on writing/producing.

Keely was over the moon with the news, and jumped right into planning. Though the gala was still months away she did not hesitate to help you find a nice flat in the Richmond suburbs, as well as help with all of the other troublesome tasks that came with moving across the pond.

And just like that, your event of coincidences finally lined up.

-

It didn't come as a surprise that when you stepped off your plane and into the London airport, Keely was standing there with a big WELCOME sign.

Upon spotting her you immediately rushed over to give her a big hug. "It's so good to see you!"

"You as well,” she gushed. "Listen, I know you just got in and are probably exhausted, but the team is absolutely gasping to meet you."

"As long as I'm fed first, I'm in."

"Deal."

-

A few hours later Keely was parking the car at the AFC Richmond field house/office building. She had indeed fed you and let you change out of your comfy travel clothes. You were now in jeans and a nice top, as the two of you planned to go out after meeting everyone.

"I don't know why I'm nervous," you said with a little chuckle as you followed your friend in. "I think I just want all your friends to like me."

"Oh babes, do not even worry about that. They're going to love you. And you and Rebecca will get on like a house fire, I'm sure of it."

Ultimately you trusted Keeley, so you shoved down your nerves as you followed her down the hall and towards your destination. She knocked on a door labeled locker room, and only entered after someone called out the all clear.

"Hi everyone," she chirped. "This is one of my dear old friends.” She's just moved to Richmond and is going to be performing at the charity gala for us!"

You waved at everyone, smiling kindly. "Hi y'all, it's nice to finally meet the people Keeley never shuts up about."

"Oi!"

A rumble of chuckles echoed through the room of people.

Kee, once she finished glaring at you, introduced the team and then the coaches, Lasso, Beard, and Kent. Roy, who you'd actually met once before, gave you a friendly nod while Beard saluted you. Then Lasso....Lasso just stared.

He couldn't help it.

It wasn't as if Ted had never seen a pretty woman before. Heck, Rebecca was stunning and he worked with her nearly everyday. But you.....you were something else entirely. You were make-his-knees-go weak, heart-stopping, drop-dead gorgeous. He had to remind himself, with a gulp, who you were. You were a semi-famous star, who would never in a million years go for little ole him. Not to mention he was nearly 7 years your senior.

That didn't stop him from appreciating the jeans you were wearing, which did nothing to hide the curves and swell of your hips and behind, and the top that showed-ehem-a generous amount of cleavage. He gulped again. He was so fucked.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am." He finally managed to spit out, tipping his ball cap. "Welcome to Richmond. Is that a bit of a midwestern drawl I hear?”

You smiled sweetly, ignoring Keely's gaze as it burned into the side of your head. "It is, Ohio born and bred. And thank you, Coach."

"Oh Ted's just fine."

"Alright, Ted."

Holy mother of god his name sounded angelic coming from your lips, Ted thought.

Holy mother of god Keeley hadn't mentioned how hot the head coach was, you thought.

"We were just planning on going out to get some drinks if you lot want to join? Surely you must be done with practice by now?" Keeley looked to the coaches.

"I don't know, we still had a couple more formations to work on," Roy said with a frown, causing the team to groan.

"Oh come on, the sun's proper setting and the days nearly over. It'll be fun," Keely begged, giving Roy her very best puppy dog eyes.

"Come ooon," you joined in, batting your eyelashes at Coach Lasso. "I need someone to teach me darts.....and the tab'll be on me."

The boys perked up, knowing that was an offer their coaches couldn't turn down.

"Well that's mighty kind of you, though i'd sooner shave off my own mustache before I let you pay for all the drinks. But I do suppose I could pass along my darts expertise."

The team cheered, high fiving and hooping. You and Keeley joined in, exchanging excited grins.

"We'll meet you lovely ladies there, sound good?"

"Sounds like a plan, stan."

Roy snorted. "God, you sound just like him."

You flushed as Lasso shot you a beaming smile, before grabbing Keely's arm. "Come on, let's go."

She obliged, blowing Roy a kiss before steering you out of the lockerroom and back outside.

"Soooooo" she trailed off as you two climbed back into the car and headed for the bar.

"Go on, out with it."

"When were you going to tell me you had a thing for football coaches?'

"I didn't realize I had a thing for football coaches until I saw that fine man. Please tell me he's single? Otherwise I'm going to have to seriously re-evaluate my morals and stance on home wrecking."

"As single as single can be."

"Perfect."

-

You laid on the charm later that night as you hung out with the team and their coaches. True to his word, Ted taught you darts and refused to let you pay for a single drink of his. He may not have relented, but you did insist everyone else put their drinks on your tab.

When he asked why, you just shrugged and told him you had more money than you knew what to do with, so you liked to spend it on other people. You didn't say it to brag or to make him feel bad, it was just the truth. It was matter of fact.

And fuck did Ted think that was hot.

The two of you chatted about anything and everything, from your time growing up to stumbling through adulthood. You had a great time, and everyone was incredibly kind and welcoming.

Unfortunately after that night the team got busy and you threw yourself into preparing for the gala. Kee had been right, of course. You and Rebecca got along incredibly well, and when she noticed you had an eye for details she invited you to be included in the planning on the finer details of the nights entertainment. The lights, the band, the set-up, all meticulously planned. You saw the coaches and members of the team in passing, never having more than a few minutes to chat. But that didn't deter Ted, who took every opportunity to talk to you and ask about the move and the writing and if you needed help with anything.

The quick chats were nice, but all of the ongoing work meant you didn't have the opportunity to really hang out with the team or coaches again until the night of the gala itself.

-

Keeley and Rebecca had taken you dress shopping beforehand and helped you pick out an exquisite gown.

It was the perfect shade of dark blue, covered in sequins that caught the light and shone like stars in the midnight sky. The strap-less bodice and floor-length skirts left you feeling elegant and beautiful, and with matching jeweled gloves you felt like a symphony.

With your hair up, makeup on, and carefully tied into your dress; you were ready.

You arrived to the venue after most of the crowds, through a back entrance. The idea was that no one would lay eyes on you until your performance, then after which you would be free to roam and enjoy the rest of the evening. Rebecca and Keeley were in a group chat on your phone, swapping updates, and you shot them a quick message to let them know you'd. A few moments later the two found you backstage, each in their own stunning gown.

"Holy fuck," Keeley screeched the moment she set her eyes on you. "I knew you were going to look good but you look unreal, babe. Ted is going to want to rip that dress right off of you when he sees it."

“Keeley!"

Rebecca just laughed, used to Keeley's antics. "She's right though, you do look magnificent."

"Oh listen to you two, have you looked in any mirrors tonight? You both look hot."

"Enough about us. How are you feeling about the performance?"

"Honestly I thought I was going to feel nervous, but I'm just excited and antsy to get it done with so I can come hang out with you guys."

"Oh I'm sure. Ted's already cornered me once, asking where you were and when you would be coming," Keeley said, giggling like a school girl. "I told him you'd save him a dance."

"Keeley, what am I going to do with you?"

"After tonight I have a feeling you're going to thank me."

You were spared from any more of your friends teasing when one of the backstage managers came up to the three of you, letting you know you were to be on stage in 10.

"Well, that's my cue." Rebecca straightened up her dress. "I'm on to give a little speech and introduce you ." She gave you and Keeley kisses on the cheeks before leaving, promising she'd find you both afterwards.

"I'm gonna’ find my seat now too, I wanna be able to watch Ted the entire time you're on stage."

Despite everything racing through your head, you laughed. "Oh I love you Kee."

"I love you too babe. Good luck, I know you're gonna kill it aye?" She gave you a final thumbs up before hurrying off, leaving you alone.

You were quickly ushered to the stage wing, where you could watch as Rebecca thanked everyone for the attendance and donations. Perhaps at some point earlier in your career you would have felt nervous before a gig like this. But being on a stage and singing felt like home to you now, it was like second nature. You knew you were good and you were proud of that.

"Now I have the absolute joy of welcoming our guest of honor tonight. Not only did she agree to come and perform for us, but she also surprised us with a generous donation to jump start one of our new community programs. I'll let her tell you a bit about it herself, so please join me in welcoming her to the stage!"

Applause erupted as you were given the green light and you stepped out onto the stage. You didn't flinch when the lights hit you, nor when the eyes of everyone in the room landed on you. You smiled brightly, accepting the microphone from Rebecca. As you stared out into the crowd you quickly found Keely and the team, all sat at a table together. They waved and cheered and gave you thumbs ups.

"Thank you very much for that introduction Rebecca. I promise I won't take up too much of your time, I just wanted to give my sincere appreciation to Rebecca and Keeley, Ted and his team, and everyone else here for making me feel so welcome. Richmond has become my home, and I am so blessed to be surrounded by so many new friends. I am also incredibly excited to be helping launch a new school program, in partnership with AFC Richmond, to provide under-funded schools with equipment and support to help kids participate in sports and other extra curricular activities, including performing arts."

The crowd erupted once again, loud whistles coming from one table in particular. You flushed under the extra attention, pausing before you spoke again. "I'm sure Rebecca and the others will be coming forward with lots of details about all of that soon, but in the meantime I think I should get to what I know best."

Rebecca winked at you, taking a final bow before exiting the side of the stage. You set the mic in the stand already positioned at the front of the stage as the lights changed and the curtains raised on the band who'd been set up and waiting behind it. As the beginning notes of a song started, you closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in the music.

You sang your heart out, to some of your post popular hits and a few of the ones that meant the most to you. You shamelessly stared and smiled at your friends as you sang, giving Ted a wink as he watched, his mouth agape. You floated across that stage in your gown like you were amongst the stars and god with Ted looking at you like that, you could have sworn you were.

You finished the final note of your final song and stared, breathlessly, out at the crowd as the applause began suddenly and all of once. Your friends were on their feet, screaming so loud their throats would surely hurt the next morning. And there was Ted, eyes crinkled from smiling so hard, looking at you as if you were the only people in the entire room.

The applause continued, even as you took a bow and exited the stage. Your chest was still heaving, lungs trying to play catch up. You gratefully accepted a cup of water from some assistant, taking gulps of the cool liquid to soothe your throat.

"Sir I greatly respect you for doing your job, but I'm afraid I must insist that I speak with her."

You set down your water, turning to find the source of commotion. When you found it, you nearly choked on your own spit. Ted was standing nose to nose with a security guard, trying to get into the backstage area that was roped off.

"Now I don't like to raise my voice, but I'm about to get madder than a hornet's nest if you don't let me-"

"Ted!" You called out.

He looked up, meeting your eyes, and his posture immediately relaxed.

"It’s okay, he can come back."

The security guard nodded, unclipping the rope.

Ted slid past him, tipping his head. "Thank you kind sir, I hope you can forgive any threat I may had said in the heat of the moment. I-"

"Ted," you called again in warning, hoping he would just stop before the guard actually kicked him out.

"And I'm walking away." He finally got the hint, turning away from the guard with pink cheeks and walking towards you. You met him halfway, one hand holding onto your skirts so you didn't trip.

"I'm sorry about that sweetheart, I just had to see you and I wasn't about to let one guard-"

You grabbed ahold of the front of Ted's suit and pulled him in, capturing his lips with yours. He froze in surprise for a moment before relaxing into you. His mustache tickled in the best way, stubble gently scratching your skin. One hand came up to cradle your cheek, the other wrapping around your waist to pull you against him. Your hands moved up through his hair, scratching his scalp gently with your nails.

You pulled away at the last possible second, lungs screaming for air, though Ted's arm around you didn't let you get far. You stared at one another, chests heaving in sync, noses just a hair apart.

"Are you sure?" He said softly. "I'm not one of those young, athletic boys who would be lucky to have you."

You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the desire fighting with the hesitation.

You reached up, fingertips gently dancing over his cheek as you stared unabashedly into his eyes. "Ted, you are the sweetest and most genuine man I have ever met. You are so fucking handsome, and every time you look at me with those kind eyes it feels like fireworks are going off inside my chest. And I mean, have you seen your ass in those uniform khakis?"

That succeeded in making him laugh, and the worry in his eyes eased.

"I don't care what anyone else thinks, and I have never been more sure. I want you. If you'll have me."

Then he was kissing you again, this time taking the lead, wrapping both arms around your waist so he could lift you off your feet and spin your around. You smiled into his lips, unable to keep from laughing as he pulled back just far enough to look into your eyes again.

"I'll have you for the rest of my life if you let me, darlin’. I've been waiting so damn long for you."

"And I you."

He couldn't help it, looking down at you he leaned in to peck you quickly-then again-then again, leaving you breathless every time.

"Come on sweetheart, I think we've got some team bets to settle."

You laughed again, cheeks sore from smiling as Ted settled an arm around your waist and led you back out towards the gala. "No way, tell me the team didn't bet on whether we would get together."

"Oh no....they bet on when we would get together."

"Your team is full of cheeky little shits."

"Yeah, well they're about to become our cheeky little shits."

He paused at the edge of the room, looking out to where the team was impatiently waiting for his return and then back to you.

"Ready?"

You knew what Ted was doing, giving you one last opportunity to change your mind or go running for the hills. But you did neither. A series of coincidences may have brought you two together, but you knew know it was meant to happen this way. So you grabbed one of Ted’s hands, kissing his knuckles before interlocking your fingers with his.

"Ready."