#well I said I would then took it back and now I'm taking that back

[bunnys-kisses]

shut up and put your money where your mouth is

max verstappen

tags: smut/pwp, driver!reader, rivals au, bickering/fighting, married in vegas, drinking, doggy style, rough sex, dirty talk, hangovers, 2.5k words

a/n: happy las vegas gp everyone!

wheel to wheel. toe to toe. cheek to cheek.

this was the dance you did with the three time world champion. the rivalry that put mclaren and red bull up against one another. and in the lead up to the las vegas grand prix, it was you and max's world and everyone else was just living in it.

"you should smile more." he said at the bar in one of the casinos on the strip. he pinched your cheek and you wanted to bite him.

you replied shortly, "i'll smile when you give me something to smile about. don't think i forgot the last race." you were barely edging max in points with the season wrapping up.

he just smiled, "i know you'll be smiling when i bring it all home in a few weeks. don't you worry." then pinched your cheek once more.

damn max verstappen.

the rivarly started years ago. max was the youngest rookie and you were a few months older than him. along with being the first female in far too long. the hype around your arrivals to the sport caused you two to step on each other's toes. both of you felt an overbearing responsibility to be the best. your father breathed down your neck on the track just as much as max's did down his.

and even after years in the game, you were both painfully in each other's orbit. so much so that your dear teammate oscar once said, "i'm pretty sure if you two weren't in formula one you'd be married by now!"

you replied with a laugh, "oh please, i'd never! not in a million years." but last vegas was the city of opportunity, and before an exciting weekend you went out for a few drinks with your rival. and as much as the city has opportunity, it was still sin city.

enough gin and tonics for max to feel a little more relaxed. and enough cranberry-vodkas to leave you feeling warm all over. what sent you over the edge with him was his flushed face and him undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. your eyes raked over his almost exposed collarbones and you shifted in your seat.

you swallowed and took another hearty drink, which only fueled a sexual fire in your belly. you felt something hot run through you at the sight of him. you looked away to try and not think too hard about it. you played with the gold chain around your neck.

max leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at your neck, "did i buy that for you?" he put his arms on the table and his expression was drunken as he said, "wearing what i bought you?" he laughed, "if i know you'd wear it. i would've bought you a ring."

you felt heat rise in your cheeks more, "i think people would get the wrong idea. we're supposed to hate each other. the headlines would be insane, max verstappen buys ring for his rival."

he chuckled, "well, you are my favourite." he swallowed and darted his gaze quickly, "my favourite rival." then took another hearty sip of his drink.

you licked your lips, "just a rival?" you asked softly. the liquor emboldened you and you let go of your necklace. in a moment of weakness you reached for his hand and asked, "not even friends?"

max swallowed, "not friends."

you felt ice wash through your core at his words. a tightness in your chest prevented any words from coming out.

max realized in his drunken haze that he only said half of the sentence. when you pulled your hand away, he was desperate to grab it back. shock crossed his expression, "no, no! not like that!" liquid courage made him say the words, "not a friend. a lover."

the words tumbled out of your mouth, "verstappen... i'm saying this on the most certain terms... take me. fuck me. do whatever you want to me." you swallowed.

-

you held the trophy over your head. you beamed with pride after your country's national anthem. you did it, you won the first race of many. as max then sprayed you with champagne, there was a single thing on his mind.

you'd be his one day.

-

you made it to the elevator with max in tow. you were headed to his room. you held his shoulders who he held you to kiss you deeply.

"as good at kissing as you are at racing." you giggled.

"oh, are you giving me a compliment? never heard that before." he smiled at you. he had you by the waist.

"don't get used to it. if you don't make me cum, then i'll never let you live it down." you held his face for a moment, "i will tell everyone that the great max verstappen can't make a woman cum."

he pressed you further against the wall of the elevator, "oh don't worry, i'll make you feel good."

the elevator dinged and you both stumbled out of it. max trapped you against the door while he loomed over you and tried to open it. it was hard to kiss your heated skin and open a door at the same time. on top of being drunk.

"focus on one thing." you groaned.

"if i do then i'll be fucking you in the hallway. and wouldn't that be the scandal of the season." his words struck something in you and when the door was opened, you were pushed inside.

when you caught your footing, you got your heels off. max wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up. while you weren't stick thing (couldn't be in formula one, not with all that force), but max was simply stronger. he got you both over to the bedroom before he cornered you. you squirmed and he said, "stop moving or i'll drop you." and soon got you onto the king sized hotel bed.

he undid al the bottoms of the shirt and got his belt off as well, he stripped those from himself along with his slacks. in just an undershirt and his briefs in the end, he got onto the bed with you. the dress would've been torn off of you if you weren't fast enough. max groaned when he shoved his face between your soon bare breasts.

"just like i imagined." he groaned. his hands were at the waistband of your panties, "fuck. i need more." and while he got your panties off, you got your bra off.

"you really are excited." you shuddered as your hand up under his shirt. his shoulders were framed by the straps of the undershirt. he looked a little more domineering, which only raised the heat in your body.

"how could i not be? look at you!" he purred before he got the white undershirt off along with his dark briefs.

both of you were naked and tumbled fully onto the bed together. you kissed him once more until you ended up on your stomach with your face in the pillows. max admired your strong back. being a driver meant exhibiting a strength which you presented in spades. strong in so many ways, which was an aspect that pulled max in.

enamored was a term he could use. but that implied it was casual, but max's feelings were far from casual. you were next to the blood in his veins. the spark in his life, the heat in his soul.

he lined his cock up against your soaked cunt. he felt drawn to you, like a siren's call. he couldn't help it, he had been needing this for a long, long time. he sank into you and you felt the excitement of pleasure rush through you as you laid out in the bed.

"at least a decade in the making." he groaned, "ten years, ten years i've been wanting you." he felt a moan leave his lips. two drunks fucking in an expensive hotel room. two multi-million dollar drivers rutted together with a hot passion between you two.

"fuck, don't make me feel old." you buried your face further into the covers and arched your back further. pleasure bloomed through you. you could never truly hate max. it wasn't in you.

max leaned in to kiss you on the centre of your back as he moved against you. his hot breath against you warm back, he felt the thrill of pleasure as he worked you slick cunt. your pussy felt like a dream, while drunk, you still felt perfect. you let out a soft moan as he moved.

"fuck."

"please, max."

"i know."

you were near certain that this was what the entire grid was hoping for. you knew that people shipped you two together. you see the edits, the reddit threads, the fan art, the fan fiction. and you knew the paddock talked.

you gripped the soft pillow under your face and you whined a little bit. the wooden headboard rocked against the white wall of the bedroom. you hoped that checo's room wasn't on the other side. you'd never hear the end of it.

max wrapped his strong arms around your middle and continued to fuck you. he moved against you. his cock bullied against your g-spot and you were left breathless. you wanted him, you wanted him in ways you never thought you'd ever admit.

max lit a fire in you. to push yourself harder an further, you were only as strong as your ability to match max. and your rival made you the best. you clutched onto the pillow and felt a stagger in your heart. your mind was filled with pleasure, but also the liquor. in some way, vodka only made things feel more intense.

you felt it race through your body as the two of you fucked on the soft bed. the slogan from vegas was true, anyone could get lucky here. and you got rather lucky with max.

he held onto you tighter, his strong arm around your middle as he rutted against you. it was a protective feeling to you and you loved the feeling. you guessed that he was a protective force in your life, no one bothered you with max around.

you hissed into the pillow and you felt the surge of intense want. this was a feeling you wanted to feel again, again, and again. you held on tightly and the immense heat just dragged you into the depths of pleasure.

"please, max. i want you. fuck, i didn't know i could want a rival so badly. you're as much in my soul as the engine of my car. ever since we met, i knew you'd be a force in my life. i need you more than i need anyone else. fuck." you rambled, muffled by the covers, and max loved it.

you were always delicate with your words and to hear profanity leave your lips so freely made max run hotter. the way you spoke as you lost all rationality in your head.

he had an effect on you, even on the grid and you wanted to kill him. you never did, not when he looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes. he was your weakness, hence why you were rivals. the pleasure continued to mount, the feeling was electric. it made you hold on tightly, your back arched as he worked your body. you felt on cloud nine, not a care in the world. the want rolled through you and you moaned his name out loud once more.

"fuck, max!" you came around his cock with your nails dug into the pillow. he pressed himself up against your back and continued to fuck you with a feverish face.

the bed creaked under the both of you and the over stimulation made your head swim. you felt the heavy rush and he only kept moving against you. sweaty chest up against your sweaty back. thrusting against you, the pleasure built up in his brain.

the pleasure reached its peak and max slammed his cock as deep into you. he tried to get as deep as he could get and it made you climax once more. he rode out his orgasm, and soon he slowed to a stop. he felt racing in his chest. he wiped sweat from his forehead then kissed your back.

"max."

he pulled out and laid out next to you. he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to his chest. he peppered your face with sloppy kisses and you melted at his tender touch. even with his caring touch, his words caught you off guard, "fuck, let's get married."

and as you got lost in his eyes, you nodded, "sure."

-

the sun come morning burned and you turned over to look away from the window. you cracked open your eyes and the hangover weighed on you like a heavy blanket. you were met face to face with max, who was asleep beside you.

your eyes went wide and you pulled away from him. your chest tightened as you pulled the sheets closer to your chest. your heart leapt and you swallowed. when you looked down at your shaky hands, you saw a ring at your left hand. a shocked noise left your lips at the sight of it.

the ring was a gold band with a small diamond. you swallowed, there was no doubt what it was. you got very drunk and you got married. a nagging feeling of who you married was soon answered when you saw max shift and he had a matching gold band on his ring finger.

this was only confirmed when you opened instagram. and the post you were greeted with was of your hastily put together wedding. you looked happy as you kissed him. it felt like the rest of the platform was in a tizzy over this sudden wedding.

a sports reporting outlet had the caption, "mclaren's princess has tamed the bull!!" with a photo of you at the alter, your lips against max's. the next post read, "verstappen ties the knot with long time rival before the las vegas grand prix." you stomach sank and the reality was a cold splash of water.

post after post, reactions from what felt like everyone. you only came back to focus when you felt max's arm drape around your waist.

"max, we're in trouble..." you swallowed.

he slowly opened his eyes. he held onto you tightly for a moment before he kissed at your side. his expression was dreamy, still asleep as he let go of you. his expression changed suddenly when he noticed the ring on his finger. his eyes went wide before he took your hand and saw your ring.

"oh..."

"max, say something." you tried again, your voice tight. you felt the immense anxiety through you. what would the fia say? what would the press say? what would every other goddamn driver say?

it was bad enough people speculated for years about you two, but to have it come to reality was terrifying. but max didn't seem as scared as you.

he looked at you, only to shift closer. he kissed your side once more then said, "well, good morning then, mrs. verstappen." <3

[beuxwhoyouare]

Raised You Better

My son Jasper was a good kid. He was a star soccer player in school and got a scholarship to play in college, so I only saw him on holidays. I missed him so much and looked forward to our quarterly reunions.

Well that was until his most recent visit. He was being so distant and when I finally inquired why he was acting differently, he finally admitted he actually dropped out to pursue being a personal trainer.

I was shocked. He's always been a model child and did all me and my husband expected of him. Maybe it was all our time away working? Maybe I should've been home more instead of being at the lab. It felt like a punch in the gut. I mean sure he knew what he was doing thanks to all his time training for soccer but that's not a way to build a life?

My husband and I did it right. We met in college and supported each other through our advanced degrees and worked our way up in an international pharmaceutical company. Personal training is just so...surface level. He's supposed to be better than us. That's what you want for your children. No no no this is no good. I'll have to set him on the right path.

I knew of a special program at work that was rooted in natural medicine and meditation with a mad science twist. I set up Jasper with the "Sports Nutrition" department at work but it was actually our new experiment. It looked like a TENS muscle stimulator on crack. Several wires shot out of a relatively large dark grey box with a screen and several sliders on one side. I sat connected on the other side of the wall connected with the pads all over the top of my head. All I had to do was wait for Jasper to get hooked up. We sold it to him as a scientific way to curb cravings for sweets and unhealthy things, like an ozempic shot for the brain. In reality, I was told that the machine would take positive attributes from one source and strengthen them in the weaker mind.

I saw the lights flicker and anticipated that he had already been hooked up to the machine. I just laid back and rested while focusing on the importance of getting a quality education. Eventually, I must have dozed off because when I opened my eyes again it was all so groggy. But I was sitting facing the opposite direction. I lifted my arms to wipe my eyes and gasped when I looked down. My boobs were gone and replaced with sizable mounds of muscle escaping a tiny white tank top. My arms and thick thighs now filled with tattoos....no?! This isn't supposed to be how it works

I told the lab techs who I am and that I was actually Meredith. They both looked at each other spooked but judiciously jotting down notes. After answering a few security questions, they agreed to believe that I was indeed not Jasper and it must be an unforseen side effect from the treatment.

That's when they explained the problem....When my body woke up, it also said it was Meredith. Could the experiment have basically overwritten the memory of my son with my own? I felt like I basically killed my own child. Grief swept over me. But then so did a bravado, a confidence, a giddiness? The two lab techs handed me a towel as they shyly avoided looking down at a tent forming in my shorts. Oh I guess the excitement led to a physical response.

In theory I get it as a scientist. I did in fact instill positive traits on my son. Granted, that also erased him seemingly. But also it's a chance at a new life full of new experiences. I'm a man now. And what a man indeed. I walked into the shower facility at the lab. I took off the outfit Jasper donned to the lab, if I was still a woman it'd be called skimpy and slutty. Tiny shorts with underwear built in and a virtually see through tank top. In two swift moves, I had taken everything off. I had seen my son naked as a child but this is different. He looked so much like his father....well I guess I looked so much like MY dad now. His genetics graced me well as I placed one hand on my pecs and another on my new dick. I squeezed both recoiling from the newfound pleasure. This was wrong right? Like I shouldn't be doing this....I felt disgusted with myself. No. This is for the betterment of Jasper's life. I'm going to let go of my past life....I'm Jasper now.

And what a life it will be. Years of playing sport and training, whew. I wasn't going to let him throw it away, I'll let it be a side job, maybe I'll own a business with a bunch of trainers under me but I won't be hustling like that. Not yet. I gotta learn the new me. I used my hands to trace the curves of each new tattoo, then moved on to each muscle. I poked and prodded before squeezing, then I remembered I had business to attend to. I took one hand and gently took hold of the warm fleshy rod under the steamy water pulsing down onto me. I pumped back and forth for a few minutes. Jasper was not sensitive at all...I shoved aside my reservations and gripped myself firmer and began jerking harder and faster. Eventually I introduced my other hand....oh he was girthy in the best way. I mean I am thick in the best ways. Harder and faster, it felt like I was floating outside of myself as my muscles took over almost like autopilot.

The steam radiated off my new musculature when it felt like I saw a flash of light. Shot after shot came out of my new rod. The lab walls had likely never seen a show like this but I was happy to christen them. The autopilot kinky thoughts continued to take over my new mind and body. I squatted down an licked the nearest wall as my cum dripped down. I knew Jasper was queer but I didn't know how he would respond to this kind of kink. I think he was a little freak because there was not one single butterfly in my stomach from this action. I quickly toweled off and headed to my apartment. I figured "Meredith" could find her way home.

The apartment smelled like a young male in college. A musk twirled around sweat and strong cologne. Foreign to me, but familiar to my new body. I couldn't control myself and ripped my clothes off...literally. My strength made it obscenely easy to tear them off in ways they weren't intended to. I wanted to try on all my new clothes. This body made everything look good.

My phone buzzed. It was one of "my" bros asking if I was coming down to the shoot. I played it off like I forgot and asked him to send me the "deets" again.

I threw on the nearest random shirt and bottoms and made my way to the warehouse address given. I guess "I" had agreed to help with the photoshoot to launch "our" new clothing line. A nearby table had Jasper's name on it and I quickly assumed the position taking off all my clothes and putting the skimpy clothing on. I channeled my new swagger as my bros began taking pics.

Oh I think I'm gonna like this. Hopefully I can find a cute twink or something soon. I really wanna put these thighs to work plowing someone's son or two.

[heartowan]

★ WINTER VISITOR : red hood x reader!

( cuss words ) ──────────────── ★

* im not from america so i have absolutely nooo idea how much is -20°c in fahrenheit im sorry 😭 *

You used to enjoy winter so much more when you were a kid. The snow, the warm clothes, the atmosphere, your mom's hot chocolate... everything was so perfect back then. Now, though, you didn't like it as much.

Not because you grew up to be an insufferable grump, but things weren't as easy. At 9, you didn't have to walk on snowy streets from campus to work to your house in a -20°C weather. Freezing your ass used to be fun when it was voluntary.

But, fortunately, the holidays were already coming, so you wouldn't have any more classes during these few weeks, and you'd also get a few breaks from your job at the bookstore. Finally, some rest.

That's what you thought when you approached your porch, pulling out the keys to open the door in a practiced movement, but you stopped when your eyes caught a glimpse of something red. Then you walked a little closer, and you were able to make out the shape of someone sitting down with their legs stretched, hand cluching their side, a weird helmet on their head and a little cropped brown jacket... what a weird combination.

You knew that helmet, though. You lived in his area, after all.

"Can I help you?" Anyone, literally, anyone, would advise you to not speak to him and simply go find some place else to crash for the night until he went away. The thing is, you wouldn't listen anyway.

He raised his head in your direction, the white eyes of that creepy/fucking weird helmet staring at you, sizing you up and probably judging the fact that you were wearing green tights and red shoes. But, hey, who even was he to judge your style choices?

"Actually, yeah." He said, and even with the modulator distorting his voice, you could hear the hoarsness and the faint tireness. "I'm fucked up over here, I'm not sure I can walk anymore."

You furrowed your eyebrows at that and reached for the phone in your pocket. Carefully, you crouched down beside him and turned on the torch to be able to see his wound better. "Let me see." You said, urging him to take his hand away.

He revealed the wound to you, and God, it was nasty. A bloody and very bumpy gash started from the left side of his abdomen to a little bit before the height of his shoulder blade. Absolutely disgusting. Whoever did that was probably trying to split him in half.

"Oh, my God." You mumbled, your eyes widened at the sight.

"Yeah." He added, nodding his head in understanding to your shock. "Can you at least let me in to... I don't know? Clean it up? It just starts bleeding more if I walk, and I don't wanna get an infection."

What kind of stupid fucking little dumbo would let a stranger dressed like that into their house, especially in Gotham?

"Yeah, come on in." You said, your eyebrows furrowing even more at your own brainlessness. They were almost knitted together like a unibrow.

★...

He sat down on your couch like his body weighted tons, and you noticed how his wound did an odd ripple movement. It just got weirder.

"I have a first aid kit in my bathroom." You said, stripping off your coat and your jacket. "I'll go get it. Do you need anything else?" He just shook his head, and you quickly disappeared into the little hallway.

Red Hood used this moment to look around your house, trying to distract himself from the pain and dizziness. He took in how your walls weren't white, but some kind of eggshell color and there was a green wall too, that one covered in framed paintings, pictures and many posters, as well as some hanging plants.

There were just so many plants. Your couch was more comfortable than his bad, and you had a fluffy mat at the center of the living room, between the couch and your bookshelves, which were full of books he could barely recognize in the dim light.

Oh, yes, the lamps. You had little lamps everywhere and one big lamp beside the couch, but they were all warm and barely even illuminated a thing. They made the room very cozy, though.It was so homey, and it looked like you. If he saw you randomly on the street and for some reason he decided to guess what your house looked like from the inside, that would be it. Maybe not as many lamps, but still.

"Okay, I'm back." You walked out of the little hall in hurried steps, a little red box in your hands. You kneeled close to him on the couch. "Fuck, the lights." You mumbled, and he though your annoyed tone was funny, so he smiled a little under his helmet.

After switching on the big, white light, you kneeled again and gently moved the ripped fabric of his shirt away from the cut. He was staining your couch with blood, but you decided not to care at that moment. With some gauze and saline solution, you cleaned the whole thing up, the sides, and what you could reach of the insides, then, you sprayed some antiseptic on it.

"This is disgusting, but I don't think you'll need stitches." You murmured, not looking at him. Your eyes were focused on the wound. "At least not on the whole thing."

"I can manage." It was all he said.

"I'm gonna patch it up so it isn't exposed." He simply nodded at that, and you started covering the extension of the gash with the little pieces of gauze you had, and then, you secured them with some adhesive tape. "All done."

He stayed there for at least forty minutes, and you noticed how he seemed to have fallen asleep at some point. Maybe he was too tired. You didn't care, but you let him rest anyway.

When he woke up from his nap, you had changed outfits into something more comfortable than the jeans you wore before. A pair of gray sweatpants and a very soft brown hoodie on top of your black Iron Man t-shirt.

"You want some tea?" You offered, looking down at him as he seemed to access the situation — probably forgot what the hell had happened for a second.

"Yeah... yeah. What is it?" He mumbled, his distorted voice sounding groggy. You smiled faintly at that.

"It's peach and ginger." You said. "I like it."

You poured a small amount of it in a little mug you had. It was one of your favorites, with little leaves painted all over it.

"I put honey on it, tastes better." You handed him the mug. And then it hit you... how the hell was he gonna drink the tea with that weird ass helmet on? "How do you- oh."

He shut you up when he removed the helmet after one little click at the back of it.

"You wear a mask under your helmet?" You arched one eyebrow, and he chuckled at your reaction.

"It's for the effect." He said and took a sip of the tea. "Very sweet."

You took a moment to look at the exposed parts of his face. He had a few scars all over it, a sharp jaw and slightly plumpy lips, which were rosy from drinking the tea. He also had flushed cheeks, probably from the cold and a seemingly straight nose. You couldn't really tell the shape from that distance.

"Thanks for taking care of that... and for te tea. And for letting me nap on your couch." He said, looking up at you.

His voice sounded so melodic now without the modulator. It was just slightly raspy, not absurdly deep, but not even a little bit high, and just so much more easy on the ears than you'd ever expect Red Hood's voice to be.

"You're leaving?" You asked in a slightly exasperated tone that surprised both of you and put your own mug down. "You sure you're gonna be alright?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Don't worry." He shook his head, waving his hand as if to say it wasn't a big deal. You just shrugged at that.

He put his mug down, it was almost empty. So he liked the tea. With his helmet in hand and walking a little more stable than before, he offered you a small smile before stepping over to your door.

"Bye." He murmured. "Thanks again."

You stood there after he left, in your living room, with the big light on, staring at the door. What an unusual night. Your eyes drifted back to the blood stain on your couch, and you groaned internally at the fact that you were the one that was gonna have to clean that.

That only reinforced your belief that vigilantes only brought more and more trouble.

☆

first part here !!

[sugdenlovesdingle]

If you’re still taking prompts, Tommy spending time with Maddie?

Oh I like this!

----

"At least this time it was planned." Maddie offered

"Yeah... And the nurse did say everything is going according to plan earlier."

"But you still worry."

"Yeah." Tommy chuckled. "I convinced him to get it done now so he'd be back on his feet by the time the little one starts walking."

Maddie smiled and rubbed her pregnant belly.

"Yeah I think he is looking forward to meeting his family. He's about to walk right out of there in a minute. Jee wasn't this restless."

"I guess he takes after his father then. I've never known Howie to be calm and relaxed." Tommy commented "Well... off the clock at least." he added after a beat and they both laughed.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking bad hospital coffee and Tommy's eyes fixed on the door.

"What about you two?" Maddie asked.

"Hmm?"

Tommy reluctantly tore his eyes away from the door and looked at her.

"One of these." she gestured at her belly.

"I don't think either of us is at risk of getting pregnant any time soon." Tommy deadpanned and laughed when Maddie slapped his bicep.

"You know what I mean. Am I going to be an aunt any time soon?"

Tommy sat up straighter and played with the lid of his coffee cup.

"We've talked about it. Marriage, kids... the whole nine yards... and we want the same things..."

"But..." Maddie prompted.

"But... not just yet." Tommy shook his head. "We've only been back together about six months. And the last time we rushed into things it didn't go so well. So one step at a time for now."

"Isn't he moving in with you when he's discharged?"

"Yeah but that's because he's going to need a lot of help. Especially the first few months. And those stairs in the loft are lethal."

"He managed before..."

"Maybe. But he doesn't have to anymore now. I have a bedroom and a bathroom on the ground floor at my place and the stairs aren't so damn steep, he can easily manage them with crutches if needed."

Suddenly the door opened and one of the doctors walked up to them.

"Evan Buckley's family?"

Tommy was on his feet in seconds.

"That's right. How is he?"

The doctor gave him a tired smile.

"The operation was a success. No complications. Straight out of the medical text books."

"So he's ok?"

"He has a long road to recovery ahead of him, but I don't see why he shouldn't make a full recovery in due time." The doctor told them. "He'll still be asleep for a while, but one of the nurses will come get you when they've gotten him settled back in, in his room and you can sit with him."

Tommy let out a sigh of relief while Maddie thanked the doctor before they left the two of them to it again.

"He's ok." Maddie said, slipping her arm through Tommy's. "He's ok."

About ten minutes later a nurse came to get them and took them to Buck's room. He was still fast asleep but apart from a pulse oximeter on his finger and a cast on his leg, he looked just like he would on a regular day at home.

Tommy sat down next to the bed and softly brushed the curls off his forehead, while Maddie sat down on the other side and held Buck's hand in hers.

"You know he always hated that?"

"Hated what?"

"His curls. People playing with them." Maddie explained. "I used to do it when he was little but when he got old enough to pick his own hairstyle, the curls were gone and everyone was forbidden to touch his hair. I think I still have some pictures of when he gave himself a haircut when he was about 12 or 13."

Tommy grinned.

"If you can still find them, I'd love to see them."

"I'll get Howie to look for them." Maddie promised. "But what I'm trying to say is... he's changed since he met you. For the better."

"I did tell him I liked the curls once... He hadn't had time to get a haircut in a while and his hair was getting longer and the curls just made him look... soft." Tommy smiled, running his hands through Buck's hair.

Maddie smiled.

"Not just the hairstyle. Or wearing clothes in his actual size instead of at least two sizes too small." She laughed. "But he's... more comfortable in his own skin. He's content. Happy in a way I've never seen him before. And that's down to you."

"I don't know about that..." Tommy ducked his head.

"I do." Maddie insisted. "You're good for him. You're good for each other."

Buck began to stir and groaned as he opened his eyes. He rolled his head to the side and smiled when he saw Tommy.

"Hey you." Tommy said and got up to press a kiss to the top of his head. "Welcome back. How are you feeling?"

"Hmokay... better when the room stops spinning... and there's only one of you. is my leg still there?" he reached out to touch his leg and then realised someone was holding his hand. He turned his head and saw his sister. "Maddie!" he said happily, like he hadn't seen her in years.

"Hi." she giggled and squeezed his hand. "They've got you on the good stuff, huh."

"They fixed my leg." he explained. "Tommy said I should do it now. For the baby." He frowned. "Not our baby." He turned his head back to the other side to look at Tommy. "You're not having a baby... right?"

Tommy bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.

"No, no I'm not. But your sister is."

Buck turned back to Maddie.

"You're having a baby?" he asked, and then noticed her pregnant belly. "You're having a baby! Wait... i-is that Tommy's baby?"

"What? No!" Maddie said and both her and Tommy burst out laughing. "I don't think I'm really his type."

"Yeah, sorry, I prefer the other Buckley." Tommy said laughingly.

Buck frowned.

"Who?"

"You." Tommy told him and softly kissed him. "I'm going to get a nurse. Let them know you're awake. I'll be right back." He got up and left the room with Buck looking at him with a dopey smile that wasn't just the anaesthetic.

"I love him." Buck declared, still looking at the door.

Maddie smiled and gave his hand another squeeze.

"I know. He loves you too."

"Yeah? Yeah!" Buck replied answering his own question. "I'm going to marry him. I have a ring." he said, just as Tommy came back in with a nurse.

"Hello mister Buckley, glad to see you awake." the nurse told him as she quickly checked him over. "The operation went well, and you should be able to go home in a few days."

Buck nodded and turned to Maddie.

"You need to call Eddie for me. He has the ring. I need it... for Tommy. I'm going to marry him."

"I'll call him." Maddie promised. sharing a look with Tommy over the bed.

"Good. I'm just... sleep..." Buck mumbled as he started to drift off again.

"He probably won't remember this conversation when he wakes up again." the nurse told them. "I'm guessing you're Eddie?" she asked Tommy who shook his head.

"I'm Tommy. And I guess I better start working on my surprised face."

---

send me a prompt and I'll write you a fic(let)!

[prettyboykatsuki]

later, then | i. rin

✮ tags ; gn!reader, pre-relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, rin in his actor era, assisstant!reader. this is sfw but i am an 18+ blog so minors do not follow me lol.

✮ wc ; 1.4k

✮ a/n ; a comm for @rabbbitseason that i had to rewrite a couple of times. i rlly liked being able to write something like this. i hope u like the direction i ended up going in sdjksdj

✮ synopsis ; on his last day of filming rin tried to keep you out of his thoughts.

"Rin-kun,"

He knows your voice well enough to know it's you before he even opens his eyes. "Hn,"

"We'll be shooting your scenes next," You say, tapping his shoulder lightly. "They told me to wake you up."

It's not like Rin to fall asleep on a set somewhere, no matter how tired he is. He's usually the type to push through it no matter what. It's petty, but it feels like he's lost otherwise.

He was exhausted before hand though. Months of shooting and he still can't get used to his schedule.

He's here from a morning flight from France that he took all the way back home to Japan. After he arrived, he immediately hailed a cab and busted ass to get here on time. He would normally rest on his journey but found he couldn't bring himself to actually fall asleep.

Professor Heartbreak is a Japanese TV drama (airing domestically lived and internationally on Netflix) and Rin's first acting role. The series follows a romance between a graduate student caught in a lot of debt and her relationship to one of her pupils, college student and heir to mega corporation.

Rin has never had any interest in acting, and had even less interest in acting in a romance drama. His manager however urged (read: forced) him to take the offer, emphasizing how good it would be for his public image among other things. Of course, Rin still declined but no matter what he did - he couldn't actually seem to get out of doing it.

He's off-season now though he started filming during. He can say with confidence there's nothing he likes about the job. No matter how much his manager or director insists that all he needs is to have a pretty face - there's still a level of annoying obligation he feels towards doing it.

The reception was more positive then they were expecting. Apparently Rin is a half-decent actor. He's not playing a character he feels is so different from him, if not much more cringe.

Rin plays the love interest Yukio. Not very expressive and rich with a tendency to chase what he wants. Generally aggressive about the female love interest.

It doesn't suit him and he doubts he'll do it again. But a lot went into getting the role. If he's going to do it at all, he might as well do it well.

Rin hates shit that's half-assed after all, lukewarm acting doesn't suit him.

Today is the last day of shooting and happens to be one of the last scenes. Shooting is sometimes chronological, but not always. Regardless, after today it'll be the last time Rin steps foot on this set. No more long nights, or trying to memorize lines, no more out of place press runs. The practice season will start again and he can go back to the busy he's been used to since the debut of his soccer career.

That also means it'll be the last time you and Rin spend time in the same room. It's the first thing he thinks of when you wake him.

Rin sits up and carefully rubs his eye, careful not to disturb the makeup he wears for set.

"When the fuck did I sleep?"

You laugh under your breath, handing him a water bottle like you already knew he would want one. He takes it from you and takes a long drink trying to wake himself up.

"Been a little over an hour. Hour and a half, maybe. Did you sleep okay?"

He scowls, just slightly. "It was fine."

"I'm glad you slept well," You add, voice full of mirth and amusement as you read between the lines said all too easily.

He was moody when he came on set with you, worse then normal and refused to sleep. You suggested he rest his eyes and Rin scoffed at you for thinking he's so stupid. He's not a kid you can trick into going to sleepy.

You conceded easily, made a single sly comment about hoping he's all there when it's his turn. It'd be a shame if he had to keep shooting the same scene and ended up home late after all. Enough of a provocation to submit to your stupid suggestion.

Rin supposes this was why his manager hired you in the first place. You're in a temporary position, your contract to be in place until filming is over and Rin's back on normal scheduling. Rin realized pretty early on that you're more like a glorified babysitter then an assistant which is why he didn't have very pleasant expectations of you at the start.

But you're competent. Push without pushing too far. Clever even when it's annoying. You've known each other for a year and the only thing that binds you is work but you're with him all the time. Maybe it's just the job, but it still feels like you know him better then most.

Not like he cares.

Realizing he was tired enough to sleep and goading him into doing it are two separate things though. But you've managed both pretty easily which he can admit is a feat. You're always like that. You remind him a little of another annoying striker in that way.

A quiet settles between you. Rin gropes around for his phone, checking his messages and the time. Still a few hours until the set wraps and no doubt social obligations afterwards. He groans.

"I'm going home after we're done shooting,"

"You can't," You say, apologetic. "Manager says you have to show your face during the after party."

"That doesn't make any fucking sense."

"You're the main male love interest, you should at least drop in for a little bit. Have a beer, unwind."

"I don't like drinking,"

"A soda then. Don't be so stubborn."

Rin huffs, carefully pushing a hand through his hair careful not to mess up the styling. There's a beat of silence.

"Are you going?"

"To the drinking party?"

Rin looks at you as if to ask isn't it obvious. You just chuckle.

"Why?" You tease. "Will you stay longer if I go?"

Rin pauses. And it's quiet for just a second too long before he realizes. You seem to understand the implication almost instantly.

Even before Rin who catches himself just a second too late.

"...I don't mind staying with you until you've filled your quota. If that's what you're asking." You supply.

Rin frowns, faint warmth creeping his neck. "Then do that."

You fight back a smile. "Sure, sure. What time were you thinking of leaving?"

"As soon as possible," He says bluntly. You laugh that time. Brightly. Sincerely.

"Seems like a waste. You can handle fifteen minutes without me, right? Doesn't feel like I need to go if we're gonna part ways so soon anyhow."

Rin pouts. A petulant, ugly feeling in him. He speaks without thinking. "You're saying it like we're never gonna see each other again,"

You both catch it.

"Are we?" You're grinning at him where you stand next to him, eyes cast down to look at his face. He fights off a blush but fails to keep from turning red. Fuck. "Seeing each other again, I mean."

He doesn't know what it is exactly that makes him answer the way he does.. "No shit."

You grin, beam really - and your fingers brush his hand on the couch. Rin jolts, clearly in deeper than he thought.

"Okay. Then let's go together and get something to eat after," You say, coy. "Since we're seeing each other again,"

Rin rubs a hand on the nape of his neck.

"Shut up. Fine. Whatever,"

You laugh again no longer hiding it. He hands his water bottle to you as he gets called onto set. Standing to his feet, he takes a breather to stretch out all his limbs.

You give him a mischievous smile, staring at him openly when something seems to strike you. Like you've just realized something.

"Rin-kun. Bend down a little. I need to tell you something."

Confused but not concerned, he complies without thinking.

You place your copy of the script strategically to obscure both your faces, and in a single split second - Rin feels something soft and warm press against his cheek followed by another giggle like a bell chime. He flusters, instantly scowling and tomato-faced and nearly cussing as you look so self-satisfied.

(Warm. So warm where you linger on his skin. Hot where you've touched him despite how brief.)

"For good luck. I'll see you later then. Knock 'em dead, okay?"

He curses under his breath before they call him one more time and he watches you disappear to go do the other half of your job. He puts his hand to his cheek and takes a breath.

Stupid. He closes his eyes and buries the explosion of feeling in him as he replies to no one in particular.

"Idiot."

[captainsophiestark]

Dance Like Nobody's Watching

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: DC

Day Twenty-Seven Prompt: "Let me remind you."

Summary: Dick's SO is having trouble adjusting to the new scrutiny of attending Wayne galas as his date, but thankfully, he has an idea to help with that.

Word Count: 1,449

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sipped my champagne, trying to get a handle on my nerves. I could handle fighting the Joker and Scarecrow with no problems, but attending a Wayne gala as the partner of Dick Grayson was throwing me for a loop.

I fought the urge to scowl about it. If one thing could make this night more awkward, it would be some person I barely knew finding me making faces in the corner.

What irritated me the most was that this was by no means my first Wayne gala. I'd grown up with Dick and spent countless hours in the manor with him and his family. We'd been each other's primary entertainment at these things as kids. But being here as his date, and as an adult expected to do more than turn the banquet tables into a fort, was turning out to be surprisingly stressful.

When we were kids, nobody seemed to care what we did much beyond just noticing and thinking we were cute. Now, it seemed like everybody in this room wanted something from Dick, and either saw me as a threat to their ability to get it or as a secret backdoor to him, if only they could get me on their side.

I was seriously on the edge of losing it and going back to the buffet tables kid-style.

Dick had done his best to stick with me, but people kept showing up to pull both of us away from each other for a conversation, and we hadn't been able to do much without being incredibly, obviously rude. I'd finally managed to extract myself enough for some breathing room, but I could see Dick still in the middle of things, a group of old men who almost certainly wanted money from Bruce talking his ear off.

Even from here, I could tell Dick was barely paying attention to them. His eyes scanned the crowd, and after a moment, they landed on me. He raised an eyebrow, and I gave him a reassuring smile. Unfortunately for me, he knew me too well and was too good of a detective to believe it.

Dick quickly made his excuses to the men around him, and didn't take no for an answer as he left the conversation and headed in my direction. He crossed the massive room quickly to stand before me, and this time when I smiled at him, it was much more genuine.

"Hey," he said, returning my smile and leaning in to kiss my temple as soon as he reached me. "How are you doing?"

"Good." I tried to strengthen my smile, but Dick saw right through it. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"...Are you sure?"

I sighed. "It's just... this all feels a little weird. I've known you forever, you know it's never been important to me that you're the famed son of billionare Bruce Wayne. But it seems like that's all anybody else here can think about, and they all either hate me because they want to be with you or want to be my new best friend, all so they can get to you and Bruce. It's fine, none of their opinions matter to me, but... I just didn't expect to feel so weird coming to one of these things again."

Dick took a step closer to me, reaching out to take my arm with a concerned look on his face. He spoke quietly enough that, even if someone had been intentionally eavesdropping (which had happened more than once tonight), they wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Do you want to go? I'm happy to leave if you want to. We don't have to stay here."

I shook my head before he'd even finished his sentence.

"Running and no-showing Bruce's galas isn't a long-term solution. And seriously, it's fine, I'll adjust. I just... I don't know. I miss the days where we hid under the punch bowl giggling out of sight of everybody, you know?"

My boyfriend grinned. "I mean, if you really think about it, there's nothing keeping us from doing that again."

"I can think of a few things," I laughed, swatting his shoulder lightly. He hummed, but sobered quickly as he scanned the room, clearly thinking.

"Well... if you're sure you don't want to commandeer the space under the desert table?"

"I'm sure."

"Then why don't we try dancing? That's a little more... socially acceptable than hiding under the tables, but it's one of the things we used to have the most fun doing at these things. Remember how we'd just take over the entire floor to do whatever we wanted when we were kids?"

I laughed. "Yeah, of course. Although it's a little harder to remember the feeling that inspired us to just run out there before."

Dick smiled softly and extended his hand to me.

"Let me remind you."

My heart did a little backflip, especially when I met Dick's sparkling blue eyes. I huffed a little laugh of disbelief, especially at the thought of stepping into the center of the spotlight when I knew just how many people were going to be watching. But then I looked at Dick again, and I decided that, as long as I was with him, they didn't matter.

I took his hand, and he didn't waste a second before pulling me after him to the dance floor. I laughed, unable to hold back a smile even as heads turned towards us. Dick ignored them completely. He pulled me to his chest when we reached the center of the floor and wrapped an arm securely around my waist, the other taking one of my hands. I rested my free hand on his shoulder, and as we started swaying together to the music, his eyes didn't leave mine for a second.

"You know..." he started after a moment, drawing my attention back from a glance over his shoulder to where people were watching us. "This is nice, but a slow dance wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

I gave Dick my full attention and raised an eyebrow.

"I'm almost afraid to ask, but... what did you have in mind?"

He grinned. "Something more like this."

Suddenly, Dick was spinning me out and away from him, twirling across the floor before pulling me back. We'd know each other long enough and spent enough time as vigilante teammates that his steps were easy to follow, even as he started something closer to swing that didn't match the music at all.

I laughed, a warm feeling spreading through my chest as I shared a smile with my partner. In the back of my mind, I knew more people were probably watching and judging than ever. But suddenly they didn't matter like they used to.

Dick swung me around again, then pulled me close and into an exaggerated dip. If I didn't know he was a superhero, I probably would've been a little worried about him dropping me. Instead, it just made me laugh, especially as Dick grinned and led me into something way too close to something you'd do to Cotton Eye Joe.

With every second that passed on the dance floor with Dick, everyone else in the room faded further and further away. It felt like when we were kids, just me and the most important person in the world to me having the time of our lives.

"Feel any better?" asked Dick, whispering in my ear as he pulled me close again, both hands wrapped tight around my waist. I smiled, running my hands up his arms and across his shoulders.

"So much better. Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me. We're partners, you know I'd never leave you hanging."

I pulled back enough to meet Dick's eyes, and found their familiar sparkle and a smile waiting for me. I gave him a soft smile back.

"I love you, Dick Grayson. So fucking much."

Dick beamed back at me. "I love you too. Now come on, the band's finally catching on to what we want. I want to dance with the love of my life to music that's actually fun for dancing."

I just laughed as Dick swung me out and away from him again, the two of us twirling across the floor, this time in sync with the now-faster music. Suddenly, after a few minutes with Dick, the propsect of all these Wayne galas didn't seem nearly so daunting anymore. Sure, I might have to deal with a few unpleasant strangers whose opinions didn't matter to me. But I'd also get to do this, laughing and dancing and having the time of our lives, with my favorite person in the world.

Worth it in the long run, as far as I was concerned.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos @g0atmansbridge182

[anjautembear]

Helloo. So this is my first post and I had this idea in my head after I listend to a song. English isn't my first language so sorry if there are spelling errors or sentences that don't make a lot of sence😅. I hope to the readers that read this like this as much as I do and sorry again if it doesn't make sence >_<. OKAY on to the story!!

Warning: Angst baby

Inspired by the song: All i want by kodaline

All i want is nothing more

To hear you knocking at my door

He watches the door, hoping that she would walk threw it, greating him with that loving smile she always had, that still haunts him. He still hopes after weeks, but deep down he knows.

'Cause if I could see your face once more

I could die as a happy man I'm sure

He misses her, her face is starting to blur in his memory of her, but he wishes to go back. He wishes that he took her face in detail, if he only knew, that she would no longer be here, he would have printed her loving gaze in his mind.

When you said your last goodbye

The day of her death, is the day he wishes that never happend, the day that cancer took her from him, a sickness he so hates, a day that will haunt him forever.

The sound of a heartmonitor beeping in the background, the doctors and nurces shoes squeking on the floor outside, people talking, the sound of the wind blowing outside, the autum air blowing threw the curtains. Her favourite season.

But all those noises are blurred, for his soulfocus, was her, his beloved, his wife. He remembers holding her hand so tight for he feared she would pass to soon, slip from his fingers. His hold is tight but not too tight, for he didn't want to brake her. She was already thin and fragile. He still hates that feeling of her thin hand holding his and not the once healthy hand. Cancer was a true nightmare.

Her last words, the words that haunt him still, her fairwell greating, was a request. She requested that he should move on, marry another, find a new person that would treat him well. That she still and would love him. She hates that she is dying but does not want her beloved to suffer when she's gone. Her last and final words,

"You were a wonderful experience, I loved every minute with you. You were the reason for my every smile...I think...I'm ready to go home..with a smile and the memorys of us. Please look after youself...please."

I died a little bit inside

As his tears fall after she said those words, her final breath was taken, and she was gone. Like the autum leaves she so loved, her soul being carried away, back home. Her final smile with one tear falling, will always haunt him. His tears mimicking hers, but a waterfall. His heart stoped beating that day, like hers, for his heart shatter after she ripped the bandage clean.

I lay in tears in bed all night

As he lays in his ice cold bed, that no longer has her sent and warmf. He stares at the picture of their wedding day next to his bed. He still hasn't taken it off. His lifeless eyes staring at her bright smile, her wedding dress blowing in the spring wind. Memorys of her laughter, a sickening reminder, of his regrets of not marrying her sooner.

Alone without you by my side

He can no longer sleep, he can't, he tried multible times. But he can't sleep without her warm body next to his. So he holds her pillow, that no longer has her sent, the perfume bottle she once used ,empty after he used it to remind him of her.

But if you loved me

Why'd you leave me?

He doesn't know who to blame, himself, for not meating her sooner, cancer, a sickness that took her, or her, who left him a broken mess. A broken man who can't fix himself without her.

Take my body

Take my body..

All I want is

All I need is..

He felt like he should have been the one who left, he should be the one burried 6 feet under ground, he should be the one cold in the coffen, instead of his beloved, who didn't deserve it.

She was a bright light in a room full of dull lamps, he only saw her in a room full of people. But now she's a light no longer there, he is lost in the dark room. She is now no longer in the room full of people, he is surching, but she's already in the train of no return.

He needs her...but he no longer has her to save him

To find somebody

I'll find somebody

He tells himself he'll find another light, another person in the crowd, but deep down he knows that will never happen. She was the only 'somebody' he loved. But he'll try for her, he promised.

Ooh oh

Ooh oh

Ooh oh

Ooh oh

Memorys flash his mind. The day they met, bumping into eachother, on a cold autum day. He remembers how pretty she looked, how her hair framed her face, her flushed cheeks in the cold air. Her smile. Her smile he so loved.

Memorys flash in his mind. The day he preposed, the ring that gleamed in the setting sun. Her tears of joy rolling down her soft warm cheeks he so loved to kiss in the morning. Her eyes gleaming, resembling the ring, the ring he will no longer use.

Memorys flash in his mind. The day of their wedding. Tears of joy and laughter in the air of close friends, but the only laugh he heard, was hers, his wife, his other soul.

Memorys flash now...regret coming back. The day of her funeral. The rain pooring down, her coffen laying there, her favourite flower ontop. Haunting him. Mocking him, mocking him that he will no longer be able to give those same flowers to her on valentimes-day.

Cause you brought out the best of me

A part of me i'd never seen

He never thought that he could be loved, he always saw himself as the worst version of himself. But that all changed when she showed up in his life unexpectedly. She showed him parts of himself he has never seen before. She changed him into a better person. He never new he had these sides to him but she showed him like a hidden chapter between sticky pages glued together that he hid.

You took my soul and wiped it clean.

He was never a relegious person but she came to his life like a saint and changed his soul for the better. She saved him when he was stuck in a dark void of emptyness and anger. He worshiped her love like a person in church.

Our love was made for movie screens

If their love life was a movie. He was sure that everyone would have loved her as much as he did. They would have seen how deep their love was, how inlove he was. But he geasses that not every movie has a happy ending. There love story had a plot twist not even he could see coming.

Ooh, if you loved me

Why'd you leave me

Take my body

Take my body

All I want is..

All I need is..

To find somebody

I'll find somebody

Like you, ooh

He promised himself, he promised you, that he would move on. Find somebody that would love him like you did, but he can't. He would have to brake that promise. He can't move on, you were his somebody...

Thank you for reading this, I hope this wasn't a bad story😅. Bye bye!!

[carry-the-sky]

go spin the wheel, see where it lands—

Here's the thing about time: it's always running out. He felt it even as a kid, this urgency moving through him, around him. Always just ahead. He'd catch up, if everything else would just slow the hell down. But there are rules, and rule number one is that time tends to be, well, linear. Directional. Things get a bit messy when it's not.

Four seconds. That was rule number two, and the consequences for breaking it are— bad. To put it lightly.

He doesn't exactly have a choice. Or, he does, but if it's between breaking the rules or not, watching everything he loves get ripped away or digging in, claws first— well. He knows a thing or two about fighting dirty.

So, no, it's not a choice. It's immutable, like gravity. Time. A strict progression from cause to effect.

Ekko breaks rule number two.

And the line becomes a circle.

.

He thinks it's a dream, the first time. What else would it be? She fell. She's gone.

She's here now, though. Whole and happy and here, running a hand through her chopped-short hair. That single streak of magenta hits him where it hurts, square in his chest. You can't feel pain in a dream, can you?

"You're back," she says, without looking up. She's lying on her stomach, sketchbook open, a whirling kaleidoscope of color on the page in front of her. "Took you long enough."

"Was I gone?" Ekko says.

She actually laughs at that, the sound filling up his ears, warm and bright. "Benzo was starting to worry, not that he'd ever admit it. Big ol' softie." Her hand flashes, chalk sticks arcing across the page. "You seem to have that effect on people."

He shakes his head. "I don't. I'm not—"

She scribbles faster, fingers stained pink and blue and every shade in between. "You know, for a smart guy, you're kinda dumb."

"Ouch."

"I still like you, though."

This is a nice dream. Maybe the only nice dream he'll have again.

"I miss you," he says, dredging the words up from some sunless space inside him. "I didn't tell you before."

Her hand slows to a stop. From where he's standing, Ekko can only see a few snatches of detail on the page; a fuchsia smile, twin blue braids.

"I'm right here, buster," she says, not looking up. Grinning softly at her hands. "Never left, actually."

The circle wobbles, shifts out of focus. Time and space folding in on each other like paper cranes.

When he blinks, Powder is gone.

.

Too late. It's always, always too late.

.

"It's you," she says, the next time.

They're somewhere green, somewhere he's never been. A part of the Undercity that doesn't exist where he's from, that never existed.

"Uh." He blinks against the sun. "It's me, yeah."

"Seriously?" Beside him on the lawn, she pops up on an elbow, scrutinizing him. "You still don't get what's happening? Sheesh, hopping dimensions really does do a number on the noggin."

Okay, this is a weird dream. Still, as long as he keeps her talking, as long as he has sun on his skin and grass beneath him, he doesn't really care. He'll take weird. He'll take whatever he can get.

"Noggin, right," he laughs. "Synapses. Drunk slugs."

Powder scrunches up her nose like she's trying not to laugh. "Alright, I give. If you wanna dance around the giant elephant in the room, be my guest." She turns her head into her arm, a shield from the sun. Between them, their hands brush in the grass, pinky fingers tangling together. "Next time, though."

Ekko hums, content. More than that— happy. Overflowing with it. Then he frowns. "Wait. Next time?"

Paper cranes, folding in and in and in.

"Dummy," he thinks he hears her say before she disappears.

.

"So when you said 'hopping dimensions', you meant—"

"Yeah."

"And that means—"

"Yeah."

Ekko spins in a circle, arms thrown out wide. "But— how? All of this, the lab, the tech— it shouldn't exist here. Heimerdinger made sure—"

"Hey, you're the genius," Powder says. "I just live here."

Four seconds. He lets it sink in for four seconds—she's whole, she's happy, she's here, at least in this tiny pocket of space and time—before he's crossing the space between them and pulling her into a bruising hug. Her breath puffs out in mild surprise, and then she's hugging him back, arms cinching tight around him. I won't forget this. But he's already started to. He drops his head to her shoulder, breathing her in, every tiny detail. He won't make the same mistake twice.

Her eyes are wet when they untangle. Ekko swipes at his cheek to find that his are, too.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm so sorry. I thought I saved you, but it wasn't— I wasn't—"

"Don't," she says fiercely. "Don't do that. Not with me, not here. I meant what I said, okay? You're a good one, Ekko. You don't give up on people. If I'm— if the other me is— then there was nothing you could've done to change it. That was always gonna be how the story ended."

The tears are a river, streaming salt down the slope of his nose and into his mouth. "I was too slow. I'm always too damn slow."

Powder's hands are on his face, her lips kissing the salt from his cheeks, his eyelids. "The boy savior," she murmurs. "It's not your job to save everyone, you know. But I love you for trying."

She's fading, or maybe he is. Time and space, a never-ending anomaly. But there are constants, too, things that keep the universe spinning. Rules worth breaking.

He feels it, this time. It's like someone's scooping out his insides, rearranging his atoms. Like he's being wiped clean, unmade. Hollowed out so that some other him can be stuffed into his skin. Four seconds is all it takes, or maybe four million.

I love you. I love you, too.

.

He tells her for real, when he sees her again.

"I know," she says, elbowing him in the ribs. Her cheeks are dusky-pink. "Following my lead, huh?"

He looks at her, really looks. Every detail; the dainty point of her chin and the dusting of freckles across her nose and her eyes, big and bright and blue.

"Always," he says.

.

Time and space. Paper cranes, folding and unfolding, creasing the lines of reality. Some rules can't be broken, but they can bend a little.

Here's one: when you die, you stay dead.

.

He must be dreaming. She's standing right in front of him, in this dimension, on this plane of existence, real and whole and here. Her hair is still short, all of it blue.

Four seconds. He holds his breath for four seconds, and then: "Jinx."

"Hey, buster," she says.

[aureatescars]

Sasha scoffs when Leon brings up teaching him pickup lines, but he can't hide the amusement crinkling his eyes and lightening his tone as he looks up at him. "Swear words I can do." He says. "But what on earth has you believe I'd be the right person to ask about pickup lines?" He shakes his head but continues down the aisle with the smile persisting in his expression. "I've been in exactly one relationship, and she asked me out."

He stops in his tracks then, wheelchair coming to a halt. He is struck by how easily he said this just now. How easily he is able to talk about her in this moment. Previously, making even the smallest of remarks regarding her did twist a knife in his gutt, had him aching as if bleeding out from an open wound. But reminiscing about the day Irina finally had enough of dropping hints and downright demanded he take her out for dinner is not as painful as it once was. It still hurts to think of her, the grief persists even now and there won't be a day in his life when he won't miss her for the person she was and it's much the same for JD. He'd ever wish things would have turned out different, and he will always feel guilty for dragging him into a fight not his own. bBt Sasha won't let that grief and guilt possess him anymore, he won't let it corrupt him. He's been down that path and it nearly took everything from him.

In fact, the reason he is still here, looking toward the future rather than succumbing to the rage and guilt that swept him up during the war is standing beside him now. Joking about Sasha teaching him his mother tongue one inappropriate word at a time. And somehow that has him smile a little brighter.

Until Leon points out that there is someone staring at them. Sasha turns and immediately recognizes the man. "That's the man we're renting the cabin from." Sasha explains, realizing belatedly that Leon stayed by the car on their day of arrival and Sasha went to pick up the key by himself. Sasha didn't think much of it at the time, but now he wonders if Leon deliberately stayed behind that evening to keep the potential suspicion of the man to a minimum.

Well, there is not much to be done about it now, so to avoid any awkwardness Sasha raises a hand to greet the man standing a ways away from them before he begins wheeling himself over. [Hey there] Comes the gruff but not unfriendly greeting from the older man when they're within earshot and Sasha nods in acknowledgement before returning the greeting.

He gestures at Leon, meaning to introduce the two men to eachother officially. [This is Leon, he's been helping me get settled after... everything.] He avoids the older man's eyes as his brows furrow and his expression morphs into something uncomfortably close to pity. Then he looks up at Leon, while indicating the older man. "This is Mikael."

With introductions out of the way conversation moves on to stilted but overall friendly smalltalk, with Sasha playing intermediary between the other two men.

[You two here to get materials for the construction work you plan to do?] Mikael asks and Sasha shrugs. [Just for the ramps. We're not going to touch the doorframes. We won't go against our word.]

[Listen, I'm sorry, but I really can't just have you up and change the entire thing on a whim.] Mikael says and Sasha shakes his head. [I know. And I'm not holding it against you.]

Mikael looks at the wheelchair and Sasha has to do everything in his power to not squirm under what he perceives to be an almost scrutinizing gaze. [Is it really that hard to move around?]

Sasha presses his lips together, not translating what Mikael just said into English since he is overcome by a wave of shame, memories of the last couple of days coming back to mind. Not least of all the moment in the bathroom and this morning. [I told you. It's not as much moving around as it is the chair not fitting through the doorframes. Leon has to ... he has to help me. Often.] It comes out curt and a little rough around the edges. Sasha knows Leon noticed that the conversation involves him in some way, having heard his name and likely noticed the brief glances Sasha threw his way. But right now he can't bring himself to explain.

It's then that Mikael takes pity on him, trying to stir the conversation away from the heavy topic. [He seems like a good guy. ... For an American.] He crosses his arms infront of his chest. [Tell him thank you from me for taking care of you, and sorry about saying no. Go on. He seems a little lost.]

Sasha blinks up at Mikael, a little startled by the request. It takes him another moment but then he awkwardly shifts in his seat and turns to Leon, who indeed seems a bit confused by the whole exchange. "He says thank you, for taking care of me." Sasha's ears burn while saying so, but he has to agree with the sentiment regardless, which makes it even worse tonsay it out loud. "...And he apologizes for not letting us make changes to the cabin."

"Not that I know off." He answers, wheeling himself towards the entrance of the store, Leon by his side. He's glad that Leon doesn't immediately go to push the wheelchair for him, but rather lets him maneuver on his own unless asked for assistance. Sasha still appreciates Leon opening the door for him without him having to ask for it. It feels almost normal like this. Sasha is happy to not have to pull attention to every little thing that gets in his way and judging from the lack of a pointed look or any verbal indication on Leon's part he didn't even really think about doing it either, as if it comes naturally to him by now to accommodate for Sasha.

An odd feeling of warmth overcomes him, knowing that Leon cares enough to account for things like this by now, although it is also slightly tainted by him wishing that it wasn't like this, that things like closed doors and uneven pathing weren't obstacles to overcome. Sasha pulls himself away from those thoughts, focussing on what Leon is saying instead.

He considers it. "An electric screwdriver, a power drill, nails and screws..." He keeps adding to Leon's list, and Leon chimes in with a few more ideas as well. Measuring tape, a level, "...Some work gloves and protective eyewear, too." Sasha gives Leon a pointed look. "I will not have you injure yourself on my watch."

When they come to a halt in the entryway of the store to orientate themselves Leon brings another thing back to his attention. It's easy to forget when it's just them, but Leon's knowledge of Russian is limited and he's relying entirely on Sasha here, and readily, too as it seems. Somehow that makes Sasha feel a little better about himself, like he is finally doing his part in their little arrangement.

"Of course." He says without hesitation, not entirely unaware of the curious and borderline distrustful glances they're receiving while they keep speaking English. But before they seek out an employee to guide them, Sasha takes stock of their surroundings, reading a few signs which are already helpful enough in directing him where to go. "Tools should be this way. Let's go from there."

As they make their way down the aisle to get to the tools Sasha looks up at Leon. "Do you want me to teach you a few more words and phrases?" Sasha knows Leon has some understanding of his native language. He's heard him greet people and thank the staff at the hospital and the clerk at the gas station at the very least. But Sasha wouldn't mind teaching him at all. In fact, he finds he's quietly hopeful that Leon will agree, although he isn't entirely sure as to why.

[anonymousewrites]

Apple of My Eye Chapter Six

Harry Hook x Child of Snow White! Reader

Chapter Six: I'm Wishing

Summary: (Y/N) wants to find their love, and other loves are on the rocks.

A few months later…

            “So, for Cotillion, I’m thinking…dramatic,” said Evie, looking at (Y/N). She hummed as she circled (Y/N) on the pedestal. “Yes. Red instead of mostly blue, switch things up. Gold detailing…Yes. An elegant look with a bit of drama. What do you think?”

            “I think you always have the best concepts,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “I need something that screams, ‘I’m here, look at me,’ ” said Evie dramatically.

            “You’re outdoing yourself for Cotillion,” said (Y/N), chuckling.

            Evie smiled. “Business has been good since the Coronation, but this is my biggest event so far. My designs have to be impeccable.”

            “And they will be,” said (Y/N). “You’re an amazing designer.”

            “And you’re an amazing consultant. I wouldn’t have half the contracts I did if you didn’t get so many royals and nobles in other kingdoms to request my work.” Evie smirked. “Competition for me means they raise the price without me having to.”

            “If they have the money to throw around, take it,” teased (Y/N).

            Evie had created an amazing design business, and with the connections Doug and (Y/N) had, they had been able to help her grow. Now, she had a line of customers out for weeks of events and a steady flow of income. Cotillion was the next grand event and the largest since Coronation since Mal would be announced to be an official Lady of the Court. Due to the increase in demand for outfits, (Y/N) was lucky to get in with Evie before she ran out of appointments (and time). However, they were her friend, so that gave them a helpful in.

            “But you get a discount,” said Evie.

            “Evie, I am happy to pay you—”

            “Nope,” said Evie. “Best friends do each other favors. I give you clothes, you look fabulous and show them off for me.”

            “You have Mal for that, too,” said (Y/N), grinning.

            “You two have different styles,” said Evie. She paused. “And I suppose I could use Doug, but he just doesn’t have your charisma.”

            (Y/N) giggled at the picture in their head. Doug would do anything for his girlfriend and had been her model hundreds of times by now, but it was true that they and Mal modelled a bit better than he did due to their confidence and attitude. (Doug pouted when Evie told him, but she gave him a kiss and he recovered well enough). When Doug had been a model, he had quickly decided all the eyes on him weren’t his thing. He just needed Evie to look at him with love—and she sure did.

            Evie held up swatches to (Y/N) and looked in the mirror, humming as she decided on the color and precise fabric. “I have your measurements already, and I have patterns, so I will have the fitting ready in a few days.”

            “You’re so dependable,” said (Y/N).

            Evie let out an exhausted sigh. “I try.” She stepped back, made a few notes in her sketchbook, and let (Y/N) step down from the podium.

            Doug opened the door to the studio where Evie set up shop. “Evie, you ready for lunch?”

            Evie brightened as she closed her sketchbook. “I am.” She glanced at (Y/N). “I’ll see you later for dinner?”

            “Of course. Have fun on your date~” (Y/N) waved playfully as Evie and Doug took each other’s hands and walked out of the room.

            (Y/N) left after them, locking the studio with their copy of the key. They walked out of Auradon Prep onto the grounds, smiling as they passed Mal and Ben. They waved, and the pair waved back from where they were escaping paparazzi and going to another diplomatic luncheon. Poor Mal gave a tired smile and held Ben’s hand tightly. (Y/N) smiled as they watched. At least Mal and her friends and Ben to support her through the change from VK to almost Lady of the Court. It wasn’t easy. And love made things easier.

            “(Y/N),” said Carlos, running up to (Y/N). “Can I have some help?”

            Speaking of love. “With Jane?” said (Y/N) knowingly.

            Carlos turned pink. “Is it that obvious?”

            “To everyone except you two,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “I want to ask her to Cotillion,” said Carlos. “But I don’t know how.”

            “Be direct,” said (Y/N). “Jane is as oblivious as you are—”

            “Hey.”

            “—so you need to say what you mean outright,” said (Y/N). They laughed. “She’s also so busy right now that she has barely any bandwidth to think of subtext. Make sure she knows what you mean.”

            “But what if she rejects me?” said Carlos.

            “Then she does. But would you rather be true to your heart or not?” said (Y/N).

            “…I want to be true,” said Carlos.

            “Good,” said (Y/N). They smirked. “Besides, I think she’ll say yes.”

            Carlos’s smile widened. “You think so?”

            “Yeah,” said (Y/N).

            “Thanks, (Y/N),” said Carlos, grinning.

            “No problem,” said (Y/N). They were there to help. They wanted their friends to find love. Love was an incredible thing. Everyone deserved to experience it

l

            “Do you like it?” said Evie, pinning the skirts of the dress.

            “I love it,” said (Y/N), smiling at the dress in the mirror. Evie hadn’t finished the detailing or tailoring quite yet, but the basis and major work was finished. (Y/N) was ecstatic. “It’s beautiful, Evie.”

            “You’re the beautiful one,” said Evie, smiling. She grinned in the mirror. “Now, what I want to know is…has anyone asked you to Cotillion?”

            “No,” laughed (Y/N), shaking their head.

            “Hm, have you asked anyone?” asked Evie.

            “Still a no, Evie,” said (Y/N). “I’d tell you if there was someone I was interested in.”

            Evie tutted. “I hope so, it’s my duty as your best friend to know these things.”

            (Y/N) chuckled, but their smile felt a little heavier. “I still haven’t felt a spark with anyone, Evie. I don’t know.”

            “Hey.” Evie put her hands on (Y/N)’s shoulders. “There are people outside of Auradon Prep. Not everyone in the kingdom comes here for school. You’ll meet someone eventually. If anyone is going to find True Love, it’s you.” She smiled.

            “I hope so,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            “And until then, you have us, your friends, and your parents, your family,” said Evie. She hugged her friend. “And we love you, too.”

            (Y/N) laughed and hugged Evie back. “I know.”

l

            (Y/N) walked through the grounds of Auradon Prep, humming as they went. They didn’t really care where they were going; they just wanted to think. They knew they didn’t need love. They were fortunate enough to have a good life, good friends, good family, everything.

            However, (Y/N) wanted to find True Love. They watched their friends begin to find it, and (Y/N) wanted to feel that lightness, that warmth in their heart that their parents had always told them about.

            (Y/N) entered a clearing in the woods and gazed at the well sitting in the middle of it. They smiled slightly and walked to it. They sat down on the edge and gazed down. Their reflection peered back up at them, and they hummed.

            They remembered some old, playful advice their mother gave them. An older superstition—

(Y/N) “Make a wish into the wall, That’s all you have to do, And if you hear it echoing, Your wish will soon come true.”

            (Y/N) leaned over the well. With the sun shining down on them, they really fit the fairytale aesthetic in their red skirt, white blouse, and blue corset top. A yellow bow held their hair back. (Y/N) hummed and began their song.

(Y/N) “I’m wishing.” (Echo) “I’m wishing.” (Y/N) “For the one I love, To find me.” (Echo) “To find me.” (Y/N) “Today.” (Echo) “Today.”

            (Y/N) sighed and leaned back, looking up at the sky.

(Y/N) “I’m hoping.” (Echo) “I’m hoping.” (Y/N) “And I’m dreaming of, The fun things.” (Echo) “The fun things.” (Y/N) “They’ll say.” (Echo) “They’ll say.”

            (Y/N) hopped off the side of the well and danced around it, singing the whole time.

(Y/N) “Ha ha ha ha ha.” (Echo) “Ha ha ha ha ha.” (Y/N) “Ha ha ha ha ha.” (Echo) “Ha ha ha ha ha.” (Y/N) “Ha ha ha ha ha.” (Echo) “Ha ha ha ha ha.” ((Y/N) and Echo) “Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.”

            (Y/N) stopped, leaning out over the well.

(Y/N) “I’m wishing.” (Echo) “I’m wishing.” (Y/N) “For the one I love, To find me.” (Echo) “To find me.” (Y/N) “Today.” (Echo) “Today.”

            The echo hovered in the air, and (Y/N) sighed as it petered out.

            “I’m wishing…” To find love.

l

            “(Y/N)!” Evie burst through their dorm door, and (Y/N) was glad Lizzie was out studying so she wouldn’t get freaked out. “Mal went back to the Isle.”

            “What?!” (Y/N) stood from their bed in alarm.

            Evie covered her mouth, nearly crying. “She’s gone.” She held up a letter and a familiar ring. “I don’t know what to do—I can’t believe she left—Why would she…?”

            “Hey, hey.” (Y/N) took Evie’s hands. “Let’s talk to the others, to Ben. We can figure out what to do. We can find out if Mal is alright, if she needs help, if this was a mistake, everything. Okay? We’ll help her, Evie. Together.”

            Evie let out a shaky breath. “Okay. Alright.”

l

            Glancing up from his deskwork, Ben smiled. “Evie, (Y/N).” He was glad that after such a stressful day he could see at least a few friendly faces. “Come on in.” His face fell as he saw their expressions.

            (Y/N) closed the door tightly as Evie stepped forward.

            “Mal’s gone back to the Isle,” said Evie. Ben’s eyes widened. She held out the letter, and Ben took it. “Ben…” She held out the ring.

            Ben’s voice quivered as he took it and read the letter. “ ‘I am so sorry…’ ” He crumbled it in his hand. “This is my fault,” he said. “This is my fault! I blew it. She’s been under so much pressure lately, and instead of being understanding, I just went all beast on her.” He straightened. “I have to go there and apologize. I have to go there and beg her to come back.”

            “You’ll never find her,” said Evie.

            “We have to try,” said (Y/N). “She deserves to know that we’re all here to help her if she comes back.” None of them had helped her like they should have. No one had seen just how badly she was coping with the pressure and how much she needed support. (Y/N) owed it to their friend to help her.

            “But you need to know the Isle and how it works, and—I have to go with you,” realized Evie.

            “Yes!” Ben paused. “I mean…Are you sure?”

            “Yeah.” Evie nodded firmly, bravely. “She’s my best friend. And we’ll bring the boys, too. There’s safety in numbers, and none of us are really too popular over there right now.”

            “Thank you,” said Ben.

            “But let’s get one thing straight,” said Evie. “You have to promise me that I won’t get stuck there again.”

            “Never,” said (Y/N). “We’d never leave you behind.”

            “I promise,” said Ben.

            “Alright,” said Evie, nodding.

            “And let’s get another thing straight,” said (Y/N). Ben and Evie looked at them. “I’m coming, too.”

            “What—No,” said Ben.

            “Mal’s my friend, too,” said (Y/N).

            “Okay,” said Evie. She smirked. “But neither of you are going dressed like that.”

Taglist:

@neenieweenie

@hampterfae

@american-idiot-jpg

@lunalixya

@roo024

@unholycheesesnack

@paastaboi

@lbee13

@rory-cakes

@theeghosted

@newttheglue250

[heart4caitlin]

kk arnold fluff when reader and kk go on there first date then go live afterwards

KISS HER YOU FOOL / kk arnold

Kamorea Arnold x fem!reader

Synopsis: in ask!!

WC: 707

NOT PROOFREAD !!!

KK had been nervous all day, she'd finally been able to take you out on a date.

She glanced in the mirror for the hundredth time before nodding to herself, "Ridiculous, it's jus Y/n? Why am I so nervous?"

It wasn't just Y/n. It was Y/n, the woman she's been begging to go out with for two weeks now. The woman who she stares at during class or at games, not being able to help herself.

KK took a deep breath and looked over at her phone when it pinged, a text from you:

hey! I'm here but you take your time!

She smiled to herself as she grabbed her keys and headed out the door.

The two of you decided at a small diner–cozy with red booths, black and white tiled floor, and a jukebox in the corner of the place.

KK held the door open as you walked in, a smile being brought onto your face at the decorations they had. "Hm, this is cute, Kamorea." You smiled brightly, glancing a look over to her as she stared at you.

"I tried! I've been here before with the team, thought you would like them. They have really good milkshakes." KK replied, grinning as her cheeks went warm. The two of you ended up ordering burgers and a milkshake--a classic.

"This is way better than I expected." You said as you sip on the milkshake.

"I told you they were good!'

As you ate, your conversation flowed effortlessly. Talking about how KK was working on three-point shots and how you had zero coordination when it came to sports, along with KK laughing and saying how "you can't be that bad!"

The check ended up coming soon after, you going to reach for it but KK was faster.

"Oh come on, I was gonna pay!" You had frowned while she smiled.

"Yeah well I invited you on the date so... You can pay next time." KK replied, holding the check in her hand while reaching for her card.

"Hm, next time then?" You joked, grinning over at her.

Y'all arrived back at KK's place, going in to sit on the couch as music played in the background. "You know," You started to say, looking over to KK with a smirk, people are gonna go crazy when they find out we went out on a date."

"Oh I know they would, can imagine all the edits they would make."

"Wonder what songs they would use," You replied, a grin appearing on your face as you reached over for your phone and going to tiktok.

"Oh god, I didn't think you were serious!" Before KK could grab the phone you had already clicked the Go Live button.

"Hi guys!!' You said cheerfully and waving towards the camera, multiples comments flowing in already. KK let out a groan, covering her face with her hands and complaining that "you're the worst."

"Say hi to the fans, KK!" You nudged her with your elbow and turned the camera to her. She dropped her hands and waved towards the camera, "Hi guys!' And the comments went wild.

username1: KK ARNOLD AND Y/N L/N??

username2: OMG

username3: she looks so done with you y/n

"See, they love us!" You smiled towards KK, both of you visible in the camera now.

"Well, Y/n," Kk began, turning back to the camera and picking it up. "As much as we would love to talk to yall, I'm not speaking the rest of our night on live, after the perfect date we just had." The comments immediately turning chaotic.

username4: FIRST DATE???

username5: oh DROP the details

username6: my favorite couple already

After a few more minutes of being live KK cut the live off, turning towards you with a smile. "So did you have fun on our first date?"

You smiled back, your cheeks warming up, "I had an amazing first date with you."

"Good, 'cause they'll be more." She whispered as she leaned in closer to you, pressing her lips against yours. Your hand making it's way to KK"s cheek as her hand rested on the back of your neck, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss.

A/n: ummm so it totally did NOT take me since august to write this shut up!!

please reblog and comment !!

[himasgod]

King Deshret x Reader VI

Where you realize that you have returned to where it all began, and you make sure to attack the problem at its root.

(KING DESHRET IS BACK. Many of you will be wondering, hey, where is part V? Well, the answer is simple. I'm not uploading it in chronological order hehe, and that has been noticeable throughout the fanfic. I want you to first read this part without knowing the previous part, to make a little chronological disorder, which is what I like. Then, when I publish part V, you'll know where all this comes from heheje)

XVII.

You opened your eyes with a start, the echo of a stabbing pain still resonating in your chest. Your last memory was of Deshret’s cold betrayal, when his hand—the same one that once tenderly caressed your face—sacrificed you to satisfy Nabu Malikata’s whim. You had felt the warmth of life leave you, the weight of sacrifice crushing your soul, and darkness claiming you… but now, the desert air filled your lungs again.

Your gaze swept the place in disbelief. The palace was familiar to you, the golden walls and majestic columns unmistakable. The audience chamber was decorated for a solemn occasion, and in front of you was the marriage contract you had signed years ago.

Time had gone backwards. You had returned to the day your fate would be sealed, the one in which you gave your heart without suspecting the betrayal to come. But now, a spark of determination ignited within you. This time, you would change your destiny. You would not be a victim or a sacrifice. You would protect not only your life, but also your love, and you would make sure that your husband would never forget what you meant to him.

You took the pen with a firm hand, and to the amazement of the scribes and Deshret himself, you drew a new clause in the contract: an infidelity clause that demanded his complete loyalty to you. If he ever broke that promise, the consequences would be severe.

“Do you doubt me, my queen?” Deshret asked with a smile that hid a glint of curiosity.

“I just want to make sure that our union is protected,” you replied calmly, looking directly into his amber eyes.

The King, intrigued by your attitude, accepted without protest. His hand covered yours as he sealed the contract, and although his gesture was warm, you felt the responsibility to ensure that this time things were different.

XVIII

The next few days were filled with the bustle of wedding preparations, but you had something else in mind. While the servants decorated the palace, you worked on a special gift for Deshret. Under the guidance of Hermanubis, the most loyal of your friends, you commissioned the finest craftsmen to forge a bracelet of pure gold, adorned with elaborate inscriptions that you personally engraved.

These inscriptions were not mere ornaments; they were ancient runes designed to repel Allure, the supernatural power of attraction that some entities could exert over mortals. You knew that if you wanted to protect your love and your marriage, you must prevent any outside interference.

When your wedding day finally arrived, you wore a golden robe adorned with jewels that sparkled like the desert sun. Deshret awaited you at the altar, his imposing bearing matched only by the intensity with which he gazed at you.

“This is my gift to you,” you said, your voice barely concealing the pride and hope you felt. You offered the bracelet with both hands. “Promise me you will never take it off.”

The King took the bracelet and examined it closely. His fingers traced the engraved runes as a warm smile spread across his face. “I promise you, my queen,” he said solemnly before placing it on his wrist.

Your hands met, and in that instant you knew you had taken the first step toward protecting that which you held dear.

XIX

As time went on, your and Deshret’s relationship blossomed. Every anniversary and birthday, you gave him ornaments similar to the bracelet, each decorated with protective runes that reinforced your promise to each other. He accepted them proudly and wore them always, as a symbol of his love for you and the promise he had made to you on your wedding day.

However, your happiness was put to the test when Nabu Malikata arrived at the palace. The Goddess of Flowers was an imposing figure, her hypnotic beauty seeming to fill every corner with an almost tangible power. She attempted to use her Allure to captivate Deshret, certain that no one could resist her power.

But to her amazement, the King remained unmoved. He treated you with the same love and devotion he had always shown, completely ignoring the goddess’s attempts to attract his attention.

Frustrated, Nabu Malikata noticed the bracelet he wore and tried to persuade him to take it off.

“This bracelet represents a promise,” Deshret replied firmly, “and I have no intention of breaking it.”

The goddess, accustomed to always getting what she wanted, frowned. But her frustration only grew with time.

XX

One night, Nabu Malikata took advantage of a celebration to get Deshret drunk, hoping the alcohol would weaken his will. While he was sleeping, she tried to remove the bracelet from his wrist, but she encountered an unexpected obstacle: a blood lock, a spell that could only be deactivated with your blood.

At that moment, the chamber doors swung open, and you entered accompanied by two servants.

“Take him back to our chambers,” you commanded, your voice as calm as it was deadly.

Your eyes met Nabu Malikata’s, and in that instant, a silent exchange took place. Your gaze was filled with knowledge and defiance, a clear message:

"I know exactly who you are and what you intend to do. But I will not allow it."

The Goddess of Flowers stepped back slightly, aware that she had lost this battle.

XXI

That night, as you cared for Deshret, he woke and took your hand with a gesture full of remorse.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. “I should never have allowed anything to even try to come between us.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you told him with a soft smile. “Because I know that this time, you choose me, always.”

From that night on, Nabu Malikata never interfered in your relationship again. Though she remained an ally of the kingdom, she knew that the bond between you and Deshret was unbreakable.

XXII.

Over time, your and Deshret’s love became the foundation of a prosperous kingdom. You ruled together with justice and wisdom, uniting the desert under your leadership.

Years later, as you looked out over the vast sea of ​​sand from the palace terraces, Deshret approached you. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder.

"I had a strange dream today, my queen, one that has been roaming around in my head all these hours. Nabu Malikata stood between our marriage, and I fell into her arms. However, repentant, I made us turned back time… so we could live our lives again."

He grabbed your hand and began to kiss it with his lips, the whole back of your hand

"I would die for you. I would stay months, years, lost in the great deserts looking for your love. I would fight for you. I would kill for you. The massive golden walls of this palace cannot compare to your beauty. You are my greatest treasure, my queen” he whispered.

And in that moment, you knew you had beaten fate. This time, eternity was on your side.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[mimisempai]

Tender loving care

Summary

For the first time in a long time, Crowley's hair is longer, and Aziraphale can finally indulge himself and take care of it the way he always dreamed. The beginning of a new routine?

Notes

It's been a long time since I wrote some tender hair brushing...

On Ao3

Rating G -  633 words

"Your hair has really grown."

Crowley, a towel wrapped around his waist, had just emerged from the bathroom and finished drying his hair with another towel. At Aziraphale's words, he turned toward the bed to see the angel sitting against the headboard, a book on his lap, watching him.

Crowley carelessly tossed the towel over the edge of a chair and, running his fingers through the damp hair that fell just below his ears, replied, "Yes, I felt like having it longer again."                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

"I like it. It's been a long time since you've had it that long."

Crowley approached and asked in a teasing tone, "Do you keep up with all my haircuts, Angel?"

"I keep up with everything about you, my dear," the Angel replied, winking at him before continuing, "Would you like me to brush it for you?"

"You don't have to."

"Then let me put it another way. Will you allow me to brush your hair?"

Crowley nodded.

"If you really want to do it, yes."

Aziraphale took the book from his lap and, placing it on his bedside table, said softly, "Then go get a brush."

Crowley returned a few moments later with a brush in hand, and when he reached the bed, Aziraphale spread his legs and patted the spot in front of him.

Crowley handed him the brush and sat cross-legged in front of the angel, his head thrown back slightly.

Aziraphale first placed the brush beside him and gently combed his fingers through the demon's hair, carefully untangling the knots that had formed when Crowley had dried his hair. When he was sure that most of it had been untangled, he picked up the brush and began to slowly comb the red hair, starting with the ends of the strands, then making wider but no less delicate strokes from the top of the head to the ends of the medium-length strands.

For a moment, the silence was broken only by the light sound of the brush and the appreciative humming of Crowley, who had closed his eyes, clearly enjoying the way Aziraphale was caring for his hair.

"Thank you."

Crowley opened his eyes in surprise.

"It's me who should be thanking you, Angel."

"Well, I beg to differ this time. You let me take care of you because I asked you to. You could have said you would do it yourself, but you let me do it for you. So thank you."

"Oh... all right. Well, you're welcome. But by the way, let me say that I really appreciate it. So allow me to be grateful as well."

Aziraphale continued to brush the hair for a few more moments, then set the brush down on the nightstand and said quietly, "I'm done."

Crowley leaned back and let his head fall on the angel's shoulder, turning it to look at him.

Aziraphale couldn't resist and leaned forward, his lips brushing the demon's in a tender kiss. When he pulled away, Crowley wrapped an arm around the angel's neck, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. 

When they parted to catch their breath, Crowley was now astride the Angel and they looked at each other, their foreheads pressed together, the silence broken only by their panting.

After a few seconds, the demon said softly, "Angel, how about we make this hair brushing thing a regular thing? Like a routine. At least as long as my hair stays long."

Aziraphale ran a playful tongue over the demon's lips and replied in a playful tone, "Only if the end becomes a habit as well."

Crowley chuckled softly, "It's a deal." 

Sealing the deal, he leaned in for another lingering kiss, and later, much later, the angel found himself, much to his delight, once again tending to his demon's tangled hair.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

South Downs cottage series : here

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

[haveihitanerve]

Guess who!! Yes I'm back, tis been a while

A video of Bruce singing gets leaked and his kids find out he's an amazing singer, and now they won't stop pestering him to sing for them

okayyyyy- see i am one of the firm believers that Bruce will sing only for his kids- so Dick was raised on Bruce singing him to sleep, sometimes on patrol when Dick would burst into song, Bruce joins in and harmonizes, all of his kids have been serenaded by him, either for bed or like hospital visit or just because bruce sings at home sometimes/while hes working... but i do likey-

It wasn't even something that he had done on purpose. It was just natural, sometimes, to sing. He would hear a good song on the radio and hum along. Play music while working a case. He didn't make it obvious he could sing- cough cough dick cough

But Selina. She had an obsession with it. Trying to catch him singing. Trying to record it.

"You're so good!!!" She would gush when he cut off whenever he spotted her recording. Bruce would shake his head. Wave her off.

But she must have caught him at some point. Because now there was a video. Bruce bit his lip to stop his scream as the late night host showed it off. This would not end well for him.

"Yo! Guys! Get in here!" Tim bellowed through Wayne Manor. He was already on the phone with Barbara and Dick, and they were heading to their apartment as fast as possible to watch.

"What's up?" Jason asked, entering the den where Tim was sitting on the couch.

Tim gestured to the TV. "B's on." Jason rolled his eyes, but flopped onto the couch next to his brother. Tim was the only one who consistently watched every Bruce interview. A habit that never died from his obsessive stalker observant stage before Robin, and now was even more prominent as he was actually connected to Bruce. Wanted to check he wasn't getting asked stupid questions.

Jason snickered as he spotted his brothers laptop open to the hosts persona information. Any wrong move, and Tim would destroy him for Bruce.

"Why did you call Drake?" Damian sniffed, entering the den with Cass. Tim shushed him, pointing to the screen.

"Just watch- I went back." There was a scream as Steph fell from the window, breaking in as always. She straightened, landing with the ease of someone who had trained with both the Batman and Catwoman, and hurried over.

"Did you see it?" She gasped excitedly, taking a seat next to Tim.

"I'm showing them." He hushed her hurriedly. Intrigued, the others took their seats, Duke strolling in last. He cranked the volume up higher and they leaned forward, eager.

"Now, recently, a particular video has taken Gotham by storm," The host was saying. Jason cocked his head, tugging his phone from his pocket to search for said video.

"Just wait." Tim coaxed, hands rubbing together like an insane man.

"We're watching." Barbara mumbled through the phone.

"Oh dear, I do hope it's not that one." Bruce was saying, chuckling, fake nervousness and smile on his face. The host laughed along, waving his hand to gesture the video play.

Jason choked on his tea and Steph's fingers dug half moons into Tim's arm as she watched with baited breath.

The video was of Bruce, in the manor, light instrumental music playing in the background. The video quality left something to be desired, crouched behind the couch, blurry, and audio a bit scratchy, but it was undoubtedly him.

"Am I blue? Am IIII Blue? Ain't these tears in these eyes-" The video ended abruptly, most likely because the recorder had been caught, but the damage had been done. Bruce looked near the tears he had been singing about.

Steph's grin was blinding. Dick's cackle erupted through the speaker of Tim's phone. A slow smile spread across Jason's face. "Oh this is going to be fun." Damian murmured.

"Damn it!" Jason cursed as his foot connected with the table.

"Language." Bruce immediately responded, more impulse than actual chiding.

"Yeah yeah." Jason grumbled. "Sorry. It's just... I've been a bit blue lately. Can't think straight."

He hurried out of the room before Bruce could see his grin. Bruce, on the other hand, was gripping his spoon tightly.

"Man," Dick complained, scrubbing at his eyes underneath his mask. Bruce frowned at him from the nearby roof, leaning closer.

"You okay?" He rumbled, reaching for a tissue or something to offer his son. Dick waved him off, dabbing at his eye with his gloves.

"Yeah- I'm fine. There's just something in my eyes. Probably tears." He winked, falling backwards off the roof. Bruce's jaw cracked from the force with which he was clenching it.

"Fu-" Steph grunted as she slammed into the floor, hands reacting too late to protect the hard landing.

Batman landed a step behind, hands moving immediately under her arms to lift her. "'m fine." She grumbled, wincing as she attempted to put weight on her left foot.

"Clearly." Bruce agreed, wrapping an arm more firmly around her waist to take most of her weight.

"B!!" She whined, but let him take it. "I can walk." She muttered. Bruce huffed a laugh, herding them both back into the cave.

"Of course you can. Think of me as a cane." That got a laugh from Steph, even as she let out a yelp as he let go to grab some gauze. "Sorry," Bruce murmured, helping her onto the med table. She waved him off, letting him prop it up and feel around.

"Sprained. Should be fine in a few days." He started to wrap it and Steph let herself recline, letting out a heavy breath as his fingers brushed a little too hard against her ankle. "Sorry." He mumbled again, but she just nodded back.

"You gonna be okay?" Bruce asked, helping her sit up. "Your room is still set up. It won't ever not be. You're staying here tonight, at least." Steph nodded her agreement, not willing to fight over it. Besides, she wanted to stay needed to torment him.

"You know what would really make me feel better?" She asked as he carried her up the stairs after they had changed back into civvies.

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "What?" His voice was flat, suspicious.

Steph smiled sweetly, wrapping her arms around his neck so he couldn't drop her and escape. "If you sang for me."

Bruce groaned, and as suspected, his arms relaxed marginally, prepared to drop her and make a run for it, though of course he didn't actually let her go. Steph grinned.

"Its really your fault," She pointed out. "If you had just told us-"

"I never kept it a secret." he grumbled, bringing her into the den, where, as planned, the rest of the kids sat. Dick smiled at his father, accepting Steph from his arms and setting her down next to Tim. He smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tugging her closer.

Jason cleared his throat, holding up a microphone from Dick's twelfth birthday. No one said a word, just blinked expectantly at him.

Bruce sighed. They'd all gotten those damned puppy eyes from Dick, he was sure of it. As if to confirm, his eldest batted his eyelashes extra, and Damian even rubbed his eyes, sticking out his bottom lip. Unfortunately, being aware of the source did not lessen its effects in the slightest.

He snatched the mic from Jason, cleared his throat, and began.

@jellynber

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

part 12: world on fire

word count: 2,256

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

Days would pass since Tommy's near brush with death and your ascent from the dark. At first, no one asked where you were, but as the week progressed, Arthur and John were the first to talk to Tommy about it. He could tell—not that his brothers were particularly good at hiding their emotions—that they wondered if you were alright. Finn, who still held onto the little stories you shared, resisted entering the bookshop because, in time, you had nothing to say. He voiced his concern to Tommy, but it would take him another few days to find himself outside the shop, wondering if you were inside.

He reached for the knob, and it jammed. The front door was locked, but Tommy wasn’t one to be deterred by locked doors. He rapped his knuckles against the wood, the sound sharp and commanding.

After a long pause, the door creaked open just enough for you to peer out, your expression immediately hardening.

“What do you want?”

Funny. Those were the first words he spoke to you when he sat across your desk so long ago, and now here he was again. Only this time, you were the one demanding an answer.

Tommy stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his presence filling the small space. He looked around the place that you always hid away in, and in some part of his mind—the part that also craved solitude among the chaos—understood, and he wished that he had a sanctuary like this of his own.

When he finally looked at you, you avoided his eyes.

“You haven't been back to the betting house. Or the Garrison.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back against the counter. You kept your demeanor cold, posture guarded, but he caught the flicker of something in your eyes—sadness, maybe, or frustration. Most likely with him.

“Well, now you know I'm alive,” you said. "Is that all?"

There it was—the uncomfortable silence. But now, you couldn't wait. The longer you waited, the longer he'd be standing in front of you.

Your jaw tightened. “Then I guess, you're just here to take up time.”

Tommy removed his hat and placed it on the counter, hoping to take up as much time to put together a delicate answer for you. “We have unfinished business.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting.

He took a step closer, his hands tucked into his pockets. “You said gave me my life for my tragedy.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, but, still, you said nothing.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” Tommy continued, his voice low. “And I realized something.”

Your breath hitched, though you masked it well. “Enlighten me.”

He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He hated this—hated the vulnerability, the uncertainty—but he forced himself to push through.

“You’ve already walked away from me more than once,” he said finally. “And, every time, I let you because of the debt I owe you. I'd rather not make that mistake again—debt or no debt.”

Your posture stiffened, but you couldn't bring yourself to respond.

“You’ve got a choice,” he replied, his voice turning sharp. “You can keep weighing everything I do—everything you do—by value. By exchange. A debt for a debt, only giving what is equally worth the other, hiding behind that cold front of yours. Or you can look at me. And tell me, at last, what the fuck it is you really want.”

Silence hung between you, heavy and charged.

You opened your mouth to speak but faltered again, your usual sharp wit replaced by something softer, more uncertain.

Tommy stepped closer, his gaze boring into yours. “I’m not asking for answers tonight. But think about it, y/n. Because one way or another, it will come out—with or without your willingness to say it out loud.”

He turned and walked toward the door, leaving you standing there in stunned silence. As he stepped into the cool night air, Tommy allowed himself the faintest of smiles.

The chessboard had shifted.

Now, it was your move.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The door shut behind him with a soft click, but the sound felt deafening in the silence that followed. You stood frozen, your back still against the counter, arms crossed as though holding yourself together.

You hated how much you hung onto his words until they crept under your skin. You hated that he could say so little and still unravel your carefully constructed defenses.

Your hands clenched into fists. Even as you thought through it all, doubt crept in. You had seen something in his eyes tonight—the same look of fragility—something he probably didn’t even realize he’d let slip. Vulnerability. Maybe even fear.

Your breathing caught at the base of your throat as another thought surfaced, unbidden. It was true. Every time, you were the one who walked away, and next time, he wouldn't let you. The thought alone was daunting, and you spent the next minute convincing yourself that he meant it as a threat. It wasn't though, it was a precarious decision he made on his own. He wouldn't let you walk away again to leave him alone.

The realization sent a chill down your spine. Tommy Shelby wasn’t the type to say things he didn’t mean. If he’d decided you were worth chasing, worth fighting for, he wouldn’t stop. And if he did stop, that meant he was wrong—you weren't worth it. Both concepts raged on in your head. You wanted to be worth it, but was all of this worth it to you?

Your grip on control slipped for just a moment, and you slammed your hand against the counter in frustration.

Needing someone—it was a terrible feeling, to the point where, long ago, you decided you'd never let yourself need someone again. The anger you felt towards yourself was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the frustration you felt towards Tommy. He was pushing you for an answer you didn't have, or perhaps, it was one he knew you would keep denying.

Wanting someone—there was no line of logic that would make it any better.

Your thoughts spiraled, but you forced yourself to take a deep breath. This wasn’t the time to fall apart. There were bigger things at play.

Why did I save him, you kept asking yourself, what possessed me to go there?

The tip about Tommy replayed in your mind. Something about it hadn’t sat right with you from the beginning, but there was no time to think it through. Why would someone risk passing on information like that? Why to you, specifically? That could have gone to anyone—any of the Blinders would have readily gone to help Tommy if he needed it. So, why did that information fall into your lap?

Kennedy—a wiry fellow with shifty eyes and a devious demeanor. He’d seemed so eager, almost too eager, to help. Back when he was Bedlam's bookie, he was much more naïve, but you offered him a way out, a way to stay out of the line of fire by giving information when Arthur sought it out. So, why would he come back—willingly come back to you?

Bingham.

The name hit you like a lightning bolt. It was suddenly so obvious, too obvious. Bingham set you up. The tip wasn’t to help Tommy. It was to bait you into action, to make you reveal yourself—to show that, now, you had something you couldn't afford to lose. It didn't matter that you told yourself this agreement with Tommy was transactional. A lost investment would stay lost. But to lose Tommy was something else entirely, and you never would have allowed that to way on your conscience if he'd been killed.

You walked straight into it. Bingham knew, once again, that you allowed yourself to care enough to risk your security.

You pushed away from the counter, your heart pounding so violently it sent aches through your veins. If Bingham was watching, if this was all part of some plan, then Tommy’s visit tonight might not have gone unnoticed.

Your jaw clenched as the anger burned through your skin. You’d been a fool to think you could outmaneuver someone like Bingham without consequences. All at once, it was crumbling down at your feet. You could blame Tommy all you wanted, but all of this came down to the decision you made.

You ran to your office, hastily pulling one of the drawers, and reloaded your pistol. If someone was going to act tonight, let them. All you knew was that this wouldn't end well.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

Arthur and John Shelby lingered in the shadows, the bookshop just within view. Tommy told them to follow him there, his expression unreadable as he gave the order. Others remained in the car, each more confused than the next.

“She won’t like it,” Arthur muttered, lighting a cigarette. "If she swings a bottle at my head—"

“She doesn’t have to like it,” Tommy replied, his voice cold. “Just make sure she’s not alone. Finn and I will be at the Garrison.”

"You really think something's going to happen?" John asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Tommy didn't explained himself further, but Arthur and John didn’t really need an answer. They’d seen the way Tommy looked at you, even if he refused to admit it. He’d do what he always did—protect what mattered to him, whether or not he said it out loud.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

You stayed behind the counter, eyes darting back and forth between the passing shadows on the street. When the burden finally felt too heavy, you pressed your palms against your eyes, suddenly feeling so foolish at your paranoia. Bingham was too smart, and he already knew where you were. Why wouldn't he show himself? What would turning you mad do for him in the end?

You paced between the shelves of books, revolver at your side. You had to do something to keep your mind preoccupied, or else you really would go crazy. The maddening effects of staying awake for so long would get you first, and the mania would hit later. You were no good to anyone without your mind, but dying was so much more terrifying.

You looked down to the floor just as a shadow passed over the window, cloaking your legs in darkness.

The shot rang loud, piercing the window and into your shoulder. The burn came quickly, the force of the bullet sending you back into one of the shelves. You fired towards the shadow, and the window shattered completely.

The crack of your gun echoed down the street, but the damage was already done. The scent of petrol filled your lungs as it cascaded into your shop through the open window.

The flicker of flames caught your eye, and you turned to see fire licking at the edges of the bookshop’s doorway. Before you could move, a sharp pain erupted in your side. Amidst all of it, you never felt the second shot—the bullet still deep inside.

Your vision blurred, but you held yourself steady against the shelves. Your arm ran cold with the dampness of blood soaking your sleeve.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

“Bloody hell,” Arthur muttered, tossing his cigarette aside when he saw the flames.

John moved quickly, his hand on his gun. He screamed your name, the sound desperately fighting the din of crackling paper and splintering wood.

The car emptied as the two of them rushed toward the bookshop, Arthur cursing under his breath. They reached you just as you stumbled out of the doorway, nearly collapsing on the street.

“Find Tommy—” John commanded to the others as he grabbed your arm to steady you. They scattered in the direction of the Garrison.

“Get her out of here,” Arthur barked, his voice rough with urgency.

You tried to protest, but the pain was overwhelming. You wanted to tell them that your things were on the second floor, but the smoke overtook the street. Before long, everything would be lost.

“We’ll handle it,” Arthur said firmly, shoving you toward John. “Go!”

John half-carried you to the relative safety of an alleyway, his grip firm but careful. “Stay here,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You leaned against the wall, breaths shallow. You watched as Arthur disappeared into the chaos, his gun raised, his silhouette outlined by the glow of the flames.

The air was thick with smoke and the acrid scent of burning paper and charred wood. The night was lit up with the flames of the bookshop, a chaotic dance of fire and shadows that seemed to mirror your own inner turmoil. Blood soaked through your coat, warm and sticky. You staggered, leaning heavily on the side of the car as you watched everything be swallowed by light.

Arthur appeared from the smoke, his eyes narrowed and calculating as he took in the sight of your injuries. “Did they shoot you or try to gut you with a pitchfork?”

You managed a weak smile, the pain radiating through you like a live wire. “Gentleman’s choice, I suppose.”

“We need to get her to the Garrison now,” John muttered, his eyes dark with something that wasn’t just irritation.

You didn’t respond, too caught up in trying to stay upright. The effort left you feeling dizzy, the edges of your vision tinged with gray. By now the pain was blinding. John lifted you into the car, and the last you remember feeling before the burn took over again was the feeling of cold air blowing against your cheeks.

[kissorkill16]

My Little Animal: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Mr. Murtaugh catches Nicky out late at night and escorts him back home.

(P.S., for @ghostly-writers !)

Murtaugh quickly took off his headband and threw it into the passenger seat of his car.

"What a day.", he mumbled to himself.

He started the car and began to drive down the road.

Half an hour or so had passed, and when he finally got to his street, he was about to turn the corner. But then he saw a familiar silhouette behind one of the trees in his rear view mirror.

He adjusted the mirror a bit, and he caught a glimpse of who it was.

Nicky.

One of his students. And...well...his patient.

Murtaugh slowly drove to the curb in front of one of the trees, and he saw Nicky crouched down behind one of the bushes, holding some kind of phone walkie talkie thing.

He got out of his car and slowly tip toed to Nicky, making sure he couldn't hear him or see him. As he was sneaking over to him, he heard a few things he said.

"Trinity, I've been waiting for half an hour. I don't see him.", said Nicky. He yawned, "No, I'm not tired. I'll wait out here all night if I have to."

"Nicholas?"

Nicky jumped up and nearly dropped the phone he held, and he turned around to see his science teacher. He looked back at his walkie talkie.

"I'm good.", he said, "Everything's fine, nothing's wrong. Just trying to -"

"Nicky, what are you doing here?"

"I'll call you back."

Then he set down the phone and looked back up at Mr. Murtaugh.

"Nicky, answer me.", said his science teacher. Nicky looked down at his shoes, "Me and my friends were just...out. Nothing much."

Murtaugh gently pressed the bridge of his nose, "Nicholas, I thought we agreed that you would go straight home after school.", he said. "You remember our previous sessions."

"And you remember trying to poison me."

Mr. Murtaugh's eyes widened when he said that.

"Yeah, after that afternoon, all those sessions went out the window. Don't try to act so innocent after what you did.", he said.

Nicky picked up his phone and was about to walk away, but then he felt one of Murtaugh's hands grab his arm.

"Nicholas, you shouldn't be around these woods. Ever. Especially at this time at night.", he scolded. "You never know what's lurking around in the darkness of these places."

Nicky snatched his arm away, "And just who do you think you are to tell me what I can and can't do? Fuck off, creep."

Murtaugh tried not to get angry, but this boy was really testing his patience. Once again, he grabbed his arm and pulled him to his car.

"I'm taking you home right now.", he said sternly.

Nicky tried to break free from his grasp once again, but Murtaugh's grip kept tightening with each struggle.

"Let go of me!", Nicky kept screaming, but his science teacher didn't let go.

He went to his trunk and took out a long pile of rope, then he held Nicky down on the ground and bound up his wrists and ankles.

After that, he put him in the back seat and got into his car. He started the car again and adjusted the rear view mirror to look at Nicky.

"I grew up on a farm with my family, Nicky. I had four siblings, two brothers and two sisters. My dearest father used to hunt and he taught me how to restrain animals that would get too fussy.", he said to the boy.

"I'm not an animal!", Nicky yelled at him.

Murtaugh just ignored him and kept driving, ignoring that Nicky kept trying to get out of his tightly bound ropes and kept screaming at him to let him go.

After a while, Nicky seemed to have calmed down. He stopped struggling and screaming, and now he was just laying down in the backseat of the car.

"Did you do this to every kid you found out at night?", he asked.

Murtaugh shook his head, "No, dear. You're the only one I've had to do this to.", he said.

A moment of silence passed by.

"Now, what were you doing in the woods in the first place?", he asked.

"But I told you in the -"

"The truth, Nicholas. I'd like the truth, dear."

Nicky looked down at his wrists, feeling ashamed. "We were investigating the cult.", he said.

Murtaugh felt his blood run cold, and he clutched onto the steering wheel. "Cult?", he asked.

"The Forest Protectors, the people I've told you about our last meeting.", said Nicky. "Me and my friends thought there was only one Crowface, but apparently, there's more. But unlike the original Crowface, these guys have white beaks and -"

"Nicholas."

Nicky stopped talking.

The science teacher took a deep breath.

"Nicky, I know what I did.", he started, "And I really regret it now, and I promise I'm not trying to kill you like those birds are. I genuinely care about you, dear. So that's why I'm taking you home."

After a while, they pulled up in front of Nicky's house. The lights were all off, so either no one was home, or everyone was asleep.

Murtaugh went to the backseat and untied Nicky's wrists and ankles. Nicky gently rubbed his wrists as he got out of the car, worried that he might've gotten a little rope burn with how much he's been struggling to get out.

"You go to your room and get some rest.", said his science teacher, "I won't say a word about this to your parents about tonight, but I don't want to see you outside past midnight ever again."

Nicky rolled his eyes, but he nodded and walked to his backyard.

Murtaugh got back into his car and drove off, resisting the urge to bang his head on the steering wheel.

"What the hell is wrong with me?!", he screamed, "I can't keep risking my life for that boy! He...he..."

He slowly calmed down and lessened his grip on the steering wheel.

"He's just a child, and he doesn't know anything about this town despite being here for over a year.", he told himself. "The boy will get himself killed if an eye isn't kept on him. I must make sure he stays safe."

Thankfully, he was thinking these things, because he was scared that his master might hear him.