#why not just put your life back into his hands and be free from choice!

[dreamofmourning]

the idea that roman’s desperate need for love is the single drive behind all of his actions isn’t like, egregiously wrong to me, but i do wonder how many more posts like that i can tolerate seeing lol. to me it’s just like, well yes sure... but i think the interesting development to his character in these last two seasons is the literal acute agony roman is in when going towards his father OR away from him, how distressing he finds literally all of this. like returning to logan in last night’s episode i think was way more about how sitting at that table with his siblings felt so bad that he would have preferred anything else in that moment, certainly preferred returning to a situation where he feels bad in a different, more familiar way. in the last scene when logan starts trying to reel him in telling him he needs a “ruthless fuck” or whatever he literally winces and like reflexively moves to leave, to me his character rn is totally dominated by like... blindly moving towards whatever feels less terrible at any given moment, and i think “a single second free from terror” is a way more interesting thing that logan offers him than only seeing roman’s actions through his love for logan. the surety of being told i need you, i need you to do this, you are the kind of person who is meant to be used by me in this way, even though roman cognitively may not want that anymore, actually feels too good to turn away from. and i think that’s like an entirely different affective pathway than your objective, logical, cognitive evaluation of how you feel towards the people that hurt you and how much you love them

like “i need you” and his face literally clears, he finds so much immediate relief in the order of that statement!!! and i don’t think that’s just like, oh i love my dad and he said he needs me! it’s like, my dad needs me, and if that means i don’t have to feel like this for a single second longer:

then he’ll do anything. like, the source of your terror is also the one who can extinguish it 

[yumeboshi]

𝜗𝜚。．．❛ #03. CORPSE BRIDE

𐙚 topic。．when you turn down yandere hsr men’s proposals.

．。𝜗𝜚 cw。general yandere themes, suggestive content, MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 a/n。aven, sunday, and boothill. sunday and aven are regular additions to my posts lol, wrote boothills less intense bc he’s too silly to imagine

#AྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིVENTURINE ⇢ ‘convinces’ you

。he will actually try to coax you into it. he doesn’t want to just force things onto you, that isn’t really what he wants 。“ill make you the happiest pretty bride, doll, just believe in me, hm?” 。continues to sweet talk you, telling you what he can do- buy you pretty dresses, give you anything you want, and he lists luxury after luxury. 。and he follows through his promises. even if you are being really disobedient, he’d still buy you more luxury than you could ever ask for. you will start questioning if you really don’t want this marriage- which is exactly what he wants you to do, to make you doubt yourself. 。his list goes on and on- a vip ticket to the Reverie, first row tickets to robin’s concerts, only the finest things that only his class of people could ever get their hands on. 。but in that list, he conveniently puts out ‘freedom.’ 。if you disagree, he’d pout, asking you why- and when you tell him you want to be free from him, he’d laugh, calling you a silly girl. 。“i already gave you a choice when we met. it was your choice to pick a card from an unknown pile.” 。he’d have the wedding commence in some really luxurious property of the ipc, and he will, invite your family over- he’s merciful. but is it mercy when you know you won’t see them ever again? 。“it would be a shame if they don’t see the happiest moment of your life.”

STANDING there with the most beautiful dress you could humanly ask for, your expression is nothing but a shell as Aventurine smiles at you through those shades. Your eyes are everywhere but on his eyes, when you stare at them, you feel like you’re losing yourself.

you are glad your gown came with a veil over your head, nobody can see your dead eyes, except him.

As the officiant goes on with the questions, you grip your bouquet a little harder to the point you feel their stems crumple, just like your shriveling heart.

You snap out of it after hearing silence- you see his expecting eyes on you and you nod blankly. “I do.”

And your husband smiles even wider, and he steps closer and slowly, while staring at you with uncomfortable adoration through those tantalizing purple eyes, he kisses you. You are expecting a tender kiss in a ceremony; but his gloved hand sneaks onto the back of your head, pulling you in hastily.

“I love you so fucking much, princess—” he breathes into you, brushing aside the saliva that trickles down your chin after his intrusion. “It took quite a while, but you’re finally all mine.” He pulls up your hand that has your forced vow on it, he chuckles and softly kisses your fingers.

“‘m gonna make you so happy, so ecstatic, that you’re gonna thank me for it, love. you will thank me that I restrained you from everything else.” he whispers, and the people clap, cheering; your family too, who smiles, knowing nothing that it would be your last reunion.

#SྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིUNDAY ⇢ breaks you

。he just takes it on another level (and does not find your struggles entertaining unlike the former) 。he will be, really heartbroken at first. the head of the oak family asking you to be his lifelong sweetheart is almost like him giving you his life. you are his entire world- and the world has rejected him. 。“…I see. was I not good enough for you, angel?” 。although his emotions will be very hard to control, he’s very used to commencing plans. he’d tell you that he could ‘talk this out’ with you. unfortunately, it’s not a choice, but rather, an order. 。sunday is a ‘the end justifies the means’ kind of person. he will do any means to make you eventually accept your fate. that will include imprisoning you in some faraway place and leaving you abandoned for so long, you will be broken, wishing for any interaction. food is only given to you through a remote device, with no human interaction. 。sunday itches to be with you- he is compassionate for you, his heart will ache to see you sob into an endless cacophony. a part of him will be tempted to go to you and be with you physically, not watching you from a screen. 。he will repeat it- he will visit once a blue moon, comforting you, asking you if you changed your mind. when you ask him when he’d release you, his expression will harden. 。“it seems you haven’t learned anything, sweetheart.” 。if you are still stubborn, he will be a little impatient. he will speed up the process by adding new things in- maybe making you dream of a lovely, free life and when you wake up, you’re just alone. he will not resort to anything violent, he cares too much about you to hurt you. although, ‘hurt’ in his dictionary doesn’t apply to mentally hurting you. 。you will sob and show your most dramatic, fragile sides to a descent of madness, thinking you are truly alone until sunday comes to visit. you are wrong, though- sunday has always been with you, just not physically. 。he has always been watching you cry into the void through a screen. always.

MAYBE you have finally lost your mind, because when Sunday comes to visit you and your dull prison, you collapse to your knees and immediately plead him.

“Please,” you sob, clutching his legs desperately- he doesn’t crouch, but looks down- almost like a god addressing its follower. Sunday is no god for you, but you beg like he is.

“Please what?” He looks at you, fingers brushing over your hands, tilting his head just the slightest. His golden eyes glitter in the dim light. He is waiting for only one answer, there is only one correct answer to his question.

But you do not give him the right one. “Please just let me go,” you break down. Your heart is throbbing from all the crying, vision blurry and your head is light with no energy to talk anymore.

His gentle, serene smile immediately warps into that of a cold one. “Try again?” His fingers grip your hands hard, warning you that his patience is running thin.

When you remain silent except for your sobs, he crouches down to stare at you on eye-level, boring holes into your fearful expression. Unlike his deadly gaze, his words are soft and flow out quickly like a river- albeit with a sigh of exasperation. “Sweetheart, I’m not going to stop this just because you beg.” His hand pushes yours against the floor to knock you down, figure towering over you as he leans in to whisper- “—although, they’re very pleasant to listen to.”

“Honestly, I don’t get why you are struggling right now. It’s so easier to accept your eventual fate. Unless, you do like to seek pain.”

His other hand goes over your stomach, then slides tantalizingly slow up your body- you shiver and tremble at each touch that is too foreign to you. Cold fingers cage your neck and you choke on your breath.

“I’m not planning on hurting you, angel.” His voice is still gentle, but his eyes are telling another story, they seem keen to hurt you again and again. “But I did say I’ll resort to other… methods. Since none of them seem to work, I suppose the only solution would be caging you with a baby.” When your eyes widen, he laughs dryly. “The look on your face tells me that you didn’t expect it. But you will be my loving wife, dear. You will not be able to run or reject me, not when your own child is at stake. It makes only more sense to… make you bear children. My children.”

As he watches you struggle under him, trying to breathe, he feels like he has entered ascension. Soon, one of your pretty fingers will have his ring, and very very soon, he will have his first child- the very thought of him makes him lose his mind. He so wishes to make you his, claim you inside, watch your pretty pussy gush out his cum while he’s pressing deep into your womb- but he also wishes to see a mini version of him, or you. He finds it too adorable to withstand. He will vow that his children will grow up pure and innocent.

“We will be the happiest family in the world,” he purrs. “And I’ll make sure of it.”

#BྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིOOTHILL ⇢ will try to prove himself

。maybe a little similar to aven. but while the latter will materialistically give you things and spoil you around to convince you, boothill will more likely show himself off instead. 。“i can fudgin’ shoot an ipc lackey in the head from miles away, sugar- ya can’t see that ‘n any other guy.” 。he’ll try to show you his capability to protect you- which will likely end up in multiple people dying but as a galaxy ranger, he has morals, so he will probably use the ipc as his shooting dummies 。overall he’s sweet even if you reject his proposal- he will likely be furious, just not at you. 。oh lord but during the day you rejected him, be prepared for multiple news flashes of dead people across the street. the amount of emotion will be too much for his consciousness to restrain 。when you confront him, he’d apologize, albeit a little too nonchalant. 。“‘m sorry sweetie, got a lil outta hand last night.” 。per your wish, he won’t kill anyone who’s unrelated and innocent- but he’d still go on a killing spree in the ipc headquarters to the point you are blacklisted on their list because he would shout your name and rant why you didn’t accept him while he shoots his gun all around the place.

“BOOTHILL, what the hell are you doing?” You frown when he returns- even after rejecting his proposal, he drifts around you like a lost stray dog. And he is always covered in blood, looking furious- but when you talk, his expression simply melts away like butter to a grin that shows his sharp teeth.

“What do ya mean what I’m doin’? Makin’ sure nobody hurts you.” He snickers. He smells like metal, like he always does, but this time it’s overpowering, which lets you know what he’s been doing.

“I don’t need protection, Boothill. You can just leave me alone.”

You’re beyond annoyed at his clinginess. No matter how many times you reject him, he’d always come back, showing something new off to you, and half the time it wasn’t anything pleasant, but rather his list of crimes.

“Aww, don’t be so uptight, sugar.” He chuckles and flashes a grin and his other metal hand spontaneously pulls you into his embrace— you jump. When did his hand get there? “All I wanna do is to make sure my future wife is safe and sound. Nothin’ wrong with that, hm?”

“I told you, I’m not going to accept-“

“Ah ah! Wait and see, you will be, I promise. But don’t drag the chase a lil too long. Even I get impatient.” Something cold pressed against your forehead and you realize it’s his gun. When your expression turns aghast with fear, he barks an amused laugh.

“You scared of this? Nah, I’d never hurt ya. Won’t wanna turn your body into metal like mine.” Although he says this with a dark smirk, he doesn’t remove the gun. “The sooner you agree to it, the merciful I become. Ya don’t wanna see innocent guys die because of your stupidity, hm?”

[nereidprinc3ss]

Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)

hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo

warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy

18+ (smut)

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

Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes. 

So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening. 

“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip. 

“Hm?”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed. 

“Why not?” 

“’Cause I want you to be awake.” 

“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”

You pout as if he can see you.

“But I like playing with your hair.”

Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks. 

“One or the other. You can’t have both.”

“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”

The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment. 

“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”

“What?”

It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes. 

“What what?”

“You didn’t consult me!”

The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. 

“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”

“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”

“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”

“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”

“Your birthday’s not even—”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”

He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling. 

“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”

“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face.  “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”

You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair. 

“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”

He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously. 

“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone. 

“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes. 

For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss. 

“Feels good?”

“Mhm,” you breathe. 

“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”

“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.  

“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”

You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating. 

A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily. 

His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them. 

“Relax. I’ll come to you.”

You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch. 

“Fuck,” you pant against his lips. 

“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills. 

“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”

Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you. 

“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”

“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”

The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already. 

“I bet you think that’s true.”

“It is!” you whine. 

“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”

“That did not happen.”

“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”

You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin. 

“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying. 

“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom. 

Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you. 

“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”

It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off. 

Maybe even especially then. 

The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth. 

You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out. 

Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp. 

“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”

He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.

The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic. 

When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit. 

But he likes those ones just fine, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”

The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more. 

At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back. 

“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”

But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon. 

“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation. 

You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense. 

Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name. 

“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.  

Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system. 

“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”

He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again. 

“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek. 

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”

You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin. 

“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”

“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows. 

“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”

“For what?” He snorts. 

You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once. 

“Handles! Duh!”

[jenosjarofjam]

Now, you're stuck with me forever

Alpha jeno x Omega fem!reader

-Rivals/enemies to lovers

Requested ✔️ @no-romance-for-me-please

Word count: 2k+word.

Warning: smut,abo stuff, a lot I mean a lot of slick, squirting, knotting, cussing, biting/marking, mention of scent, nicknames(princess, good girl, etc...)

An note! This is like my first one shot and abo so hopefully this is not too bad🤞.(I took some prompts idea from Tumblr.)I didn't really dive deep into the rival/enemies part.

Playlist: collide-Justine Skye, Best lover-BiBi

You took the same class with Jeno, both of you were the top 10 students in the whole uni. You vividly remember the first year you met Jeno, Jeno always sat next to you, taunting you when he got higher grades. On the other hand, you studied extra hard because of it, surprisingly Jeno still got a higher grade than you. This went on for months, until the professor decided to pair both of you up for a huge project, now you have no choice but work with him. You guys started texting each other, deadline of the project was approaching, you agreed on letting Jeno into your place to help on the project, another led to another, now he crashes into your place whenever he wants

9:34 a.m

Jeno: Can I come over I’m bored……

Y/n : Since when did you started asking?

Jeno:I’m just trying to be nice rn, I’ll bring you food.

Y/n:awwwwwwwwww are you showing affection to me rn?

Jeno: I want to wrap my hands around your throat, and choke you until the life in your eyes die down.

Y/n: kinky ;)

Jeno: stfu, u freak

Jeno was sitting on the couch, finalising the project while you ate your food. The presence of him was distracting you , you seem to be confused about the reason… but hey no one’s complaining when there’s free food.

You noticed the sun peeking through the curtains, sun ray hitting Jeno’s face, highlighting his features. He’s skin glowed under the sun, his eyes shimmered hazel, his nose- “Hey! Are you even listening to me?Hello? Earth to Y/n?” A voice abrupted your thoughts, you realised you have been unconsciously starring at him, your face blushed in embarrassment about being caught. “Were you starring at me?” He cocked his eyebrow in disbelief, “no- no way why would I be starring at you! You’re.. ugly.” Well that was a lie….. “You’re avoiding eye contac with me? Why’s that?” He grins in enjoyment watching you suffer. “No. NO why would I do that.” “Maybe because you’re into me?” He said poking fun at you. “ wha-what no no no…” “well, you’re looking at me like you want to murder me but also like…you want me.” He smirked, seeing your widened eyes. "*cough* umm I'm gonna go uhh get some water." You said, as you quickly walked to the kitchen. You let out a sigh, feeling like you lost your breathe just the moment before. You felt... feverish, oddly... horny.

You went back talking with Jeno, it still doesn't help the fact that you're thinking about getting pounded by a particular person. The uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs was borderline painful, you tried to ease the pain by crossing your legs...it didn't work. You spaced out looking into Jeno's eyes. "Hey... You should take a rest, you seem tired today," "Yeah..um yeah sorry I'll uh go to my room and get some rest, call me when you need anything." You responded, feeling the awkward tension in the room rise up. Little did you know, your scent was flaring up like crazy, the mix of raspberry jam and cherry blossom was putting off Jeno, the sweet smell of slick was oozing out of your panties, making it awfully hard for Jeno to keep his instincts and not to fuck you senselessly. You scurried off to your room, feeling overwhelmed to the brim. You started researching about random heats, trying to find the reason the sudden neediness. You came across an article about spontaneous heats.

Spontaneous heats-Though rare, there is a phenomenon called Spontaneous Heat, which is when an Omega goes into heat outside of their cycle. The rare cases where it happens include meeting one's perfect match (at which point both heat and rut begin almost immediately)

No way Lee Jeno was destined to be your mate, but you can’t deny he is dreadfully hot, but you definitely didn’t stand a chance to be with him.

All these mix signals are just throwing you over the edge.In spite of that, all you should be worrying right now is about the fact that you’re craving the feeling of Jeno’s dick sliding in and out of you.

You had to find a way to relief the pain, ignoring the fact Jeno is probably outside your room playing video games, you slipped your hand under your panties, stimulating your clit. You bite down on your pillow, trying to muffle your moans.

Jeno was standing outside your room, the scent of a sweet aroma slipping through the door crack is driving him insane. The sound of muffled moans , made it obvious you were touching yourself. The thought of marking you, letting everyone know you’re his. The desire to breed you, filling up your pussy with his cum. How pretty you’ll look when he fucks you until you’re senseless . He feels his body burning, blood rushing to his cock, he couldn’t get you off his mind the entire day, he was just craving to fuck you all day long . Jeno couldn’t hold it anymore, he knew damn way he wanted you, all the pretending was driving him mad.

As you were approaching your high, you closed your eyes and focused on the climax. Yougot so lost in the pleasure, you didn’t even notice that someone was standing in front of your doorway.

"Always so needy for me, having fun without me huh?" You quickly cover yourself, your face burned up in embarrassment, you stared at Jeno and his very prominent erection, the size of his bulge was huge , the sheer thought of it already makes you mouth water, you wondered how it’ll feel in your hand,or even in your tight pussy. “What you looking at?” Jeno interrupts your line of thoughts, but it doesn’t make it better. He's low raspy voice sends chills down your spine. He slowly walks to your bed, kneeling down and staring into your doe-eyes, you quickly turned your head away from his stare, he quickly leans closer, closer to the point you feel his breathe against yours " I asked you y/n, what are you looking at?”. Jeno realises how stupid this is, and pulls away, before you pull him by the collar, his lips crashes into yours, the hunger you both crave for each other is finally getting satisfied, his hands naturally went around your waist as he pulls you closer, goosebumps swarming every part of your body. He pulls away "do you want me to stop?” he asked, trying to reassure you wanted this. You hurriedly answered, longing for more “just the opposite, please” He pushes you on to the bed, now you’re under him.

“Submit yourself,” he demanded, “jeno-” “What did you call me?” he abruptly shouted, making you jolt from the unexpected behaviour. “I’m sorry, al-alpha.” he slowly pulled down your flimsy shorts along with your pink panties, the cold hands made you squirm away from his touch. He quickly put his hands on your hips and pull you in, “Let me take care of you, let me make you feel good, let me make you mine,” he whispers into your ears before he forcefully lifts your head up, now you’re staring at him. He’s eyes filled with lust, the dark orbs felt like they were burning holes in yours. He takes off his shirt, his toned abs, arms bulging with veins, looks just like a wet dream in sight. He spreads your legs further apart, slotting his head between your legs. He started licking your hole, not letting a single drop of slick going to waste, before adding two fingers into your leaking hole, slick dripping to his chin, his nose bumping onto your clit adding the extra sensation, making you moan like crazy. “Fuck, you taste so sweet, taste like mine,”he mumbled, the sound of slurping echoes in your ear, your hand naturally find its way down to his head, you grip firmly on his hair, tugging it slightly letting him know your getting close to your climax. The high he brought you was like shockswaves crashing into you, you arch your back gripping harder onto his hair, you let a breathy gasp as you came all over his face.

“I’m not done with you, yet." His eyes darkened as you reached your hands towards him, freeing his cock out of his confinement, it spring out hitting his abdomen. It was huge, far from the ones you've taken before. He slowly lift your legs up, pushing the tip in you, the stretch was painfully good, you unconsciously clenched around him making him groan, your slick coating his dick making it easier for him to fit. He gave you time to adjust to his length then he slowly thrusted into you. “Fuck- take it like a good omega that you are.” The new feeling of adrenaline came rushing in, your eyes rolled back when he hit the spot that made you see stars. He lets out a low breathy grunt , your creamy velvety walls sucking him in deeper, the tight fit making you feel every inch of him, every single veins dragging in and out of your pussy. He started thrusting in a merciless rhythm, he grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, his tongue swirled against yours, the passionate kiss turned into a messy make-out session. His warm lips taking over you, pussy gushing over his dick. "Alpha, I'm close-" you choked out "please, fill me up please.", you feel like time slowed, each thrust felt so sensitive, so good, you feel your vision blurring, the knot in your stomach snapped, you let a long lewd moan as you cum on Jeno's dick. Jeno kept thrusting, ignoring your whines. "Hmm, too much?? Too much for my omega? You were begging for it, you were begging me to fill you up right?? Good girl's keep their promises baby." The sensitivity was too much, you feel your eyes tearing up, you kept clenching on his girth, forming a creamy white ring around the base of his cock.

Jeno used his strength and flip you around, his big hands holding onto your hips, “ass up princess.” You obeyed, feeling a sharp slap on your butt, he swify pushes back in with a one quick thrust. "Plea-se knot- in me al-pha, please, wanna be full of your pups." You pleaded, the thought of being by each other's side everyday, carrying his child, was the best fucking dream ever. "Fuck- You want me to knock you up- huh? Such a slut, such a slut for me. Fuck I'm cumming." He grunted. Jeno grabbed your hair pulling it aside, exposing your bare neck and collarbones, Jeno put his nose on your neck, inhaling your sweet aroma. "Can I mark you- princess, wanna make you mine-" He asked, waiting to get a permission to forever mark you his. "Mark me please, alpha mark me!" Jeno licked the side of your neck, and bit down on it, he licked the blood that was oozing out of the mark. You screamed in pain, but the idea of being his was enough for you to bare the pain. Jeno kept thrusting in you, you feel like your were about to pass out, a new feeling rushed in, not like your typical orgasm. Your now breathy moans echoed the room along with the slapping sound of the skin, you screamed in pleasure as you squirted all over his abs. "S-shit , that was so hot, I'm so close princess." He growled, liquid dripping down your thighs. His thrusts became more sloppy, the raspy low grunts was starting to become smoky moans. You feel his dick twitched in you. He held you closer, gripping onto you harder. With a final push, his knot inflamed, hot white cum covering your walls, you whimpered from the knot's pain. The feeling was way too addictive that you can barely feel the pain now. Jeno lays on you for a few seconds, you can feel his warm breathe against your neck. It took a few seconds for him to recover from his orgasm, he finally broke the silence

"How are you feeling?" He asked genuinely, "Tired and confused...I thought you never liked me..." "Idiot, why would I not like you." "No shit Sherlock, you acted like you hated my guts." You argued

"Well now you're stuck with me forever."

[letoasai]

dp x dc 2

A what if... 

If Danny was originally a ghost child, born from one of the seven ancients that sealed Pariah Dark. In an unfortunate accident, he was caught by the Fentons and experimented on. In a twist of strange fate, he was turned human, and basically given life. Because he was no longer a ghost, they decided to adopt him.

 Danny had no memory of his earliest years, or the experiments done on him but Jazz does and she quietly took better care of her brother than their parents did of either of them. At fourteen, he still dies and becomes a half ghost, partially because of his heritage kicking in. He still defeats Pariah Dark and becomes the Ghost King and the only one that knows his original identity is Clockwork who didn’t figure it out himself until Danny became a halfa. His human self being untraceable for them.

Danny is sixteen when he tells his parents about himself, oddly enough against Jazz’s advice. They didn't take it well and were ready to put him back on the table to experiment on him a second time to ‘fix him’ again.

It was Jazz that ended up sabotaging everything and grabbing her brother to run. She’d been packed and ready to go, expecting Jack and Maddie’s overreaction. Jazz finally tells him about the hazy memories she can recall about his arrival. Being only two years older than him, she was just a child but she remembered enough on top of their neglected childhood to decide to bail with him.

Clockwork was the one to give them their destination. Head to Gotham, where Danny could meet his mother, Lady Gotham, who is eagerly awaiting and preparing for his arrival. ~ ~ Batman did not like being summoned for meetings, he especially didn’t like being summoned for a meeting in his own batcave. That was his own space being infringed upon and he didn’t like it one bit. Meetings were for mutual areas unless it was called by one of his own children. Even then, those meetings were usually at the dinner table.

Constantine contacting him to have an ‘urgent chat’ was the last thing he wanted. Constantine usually avoided work when he could, and anything he would bring to the table meant trouble was on its way.

He’d had enough apocalyptic chaos for one month. It was only worse that Constantine insisted they meet tonight instead of the League meeting at the end of the week. Things that couldn’t wait meant more work for him.

Batman’s eyes narrowed at the sound of footsteps moving through the west side of the batcave. Even knowing it was coming, he was unhappy knowing that Constantine used the private door that only a few knew about to get inside.

“You’re early. That’s unheard of.” Batman commented, smelling the smoke of the man’s cigarette before even turning around. “Put that out.”

“Don’t think i will.” Constantine said, a hint of stress in his voice. “I dunno what you did but i don’t appreciate being dragged into it.”

“What i did?” Batman frowned, turning away from his computer to stand. “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re the one that wanted to talk.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Constantine said, inhaling. His free hand held another cigarette that he likely planned to light when the first was gone. “Someone wants to speak to you. You’re going to speak to them.”

“Tch.” Batman crossed his arms. It wasn’t a wonder to him why his children were so stubborn. He could see himself in many of their habits. “Am i?”

Constantine shrugged. “Yeah, i think you are. They’re your bloody benefactor so i really don’t think you got a choice. I’m just a middle man.”

“Benefactor?” Batman scowled, a list of possible names running through his mind but nothing held. Something that required Constantine’s presence was even more baffling. “What are you talking about?”

The atmosphere in the cave suddenly changed. It wasn’t necessarily bad, but given the way Constantine tensed, they both felt it. It was like a wave of something spread out through the room, brushing against both of them and moving out to fill the rest of the corner.

“John, who did you invite here?”

“Oh, i don’t think i could do something like that. Way above my pay grade.” Constantine muttered, turning to face the same direction he’d just come from. There was no noise, no footsteps, nothing to indicate an intruder other than the feeling filling every inch of the batcave. “May i present to you, the spirit of Gotham herself. Lady Gotham.”

For a long few seconds nothing happened. It wasn’t an overly timely introduction but a woman did appear. She moved fluidly, silently, disappearing and reappearing between every step. She looked to be made of stone, everything from the visible skin of her legs and bare feet, to her cloak. She could have been a fixture somewhere in the city, a beautiful gargoyle but she moved with complete ease.

The hood of her cloak was drawn low, a veil covering her face. Even making her way through the moderately lit cave, she was nearly shrouded in shadows still. The most visible feature she had were bright, toxic green eyes that almost seemed to swirl.

Sharp horns protruded through her hood that wrapped behind her head and at her elbows were a small set of stone wings that must have been useless but she gave no indication one way or the other. Not even when they seemed to flutter.

“Lady Gotham?” Batman blinked, trying to absorb what he was seeing. To commit everything to memory. Her appearance should have given away so much but instead he got nothing.

“Yes. She is who this city was named for. She is this city’s soul. Powerful, old, and the beginning of… well a lot.” Constantine muttered. “She apparently likes your ragtag team of bats and birds too.”

“Protectors…” She spoke, her voice was like a whisper, but there was an edge to it that made it seem like her speaking at a normal volume would be a very bad thing. “Protectors are always welcome here.”

Batman stared and didn’t know right off what he was supposed to say. He didn’t feel like he was in danger, but he had no idea what a supposed spirit would want with him. He’d been playing his role as batman for years without a trace of this Lady Gotham before.

Constantine cleared his throat. “Well since that introduction was made, i’ll see myself ou-”

“Stay.” she said, stopping only a few few away from them. She still blinked in and out of existence. Sometimes pieces of her would be visible while the rest of her faded in and out.

“Yes…” Constantine reluctantly muttered.

Batman straightened. “Never heard of you.” Constantine nearly groaned. “But i can’t refute what’s right before me. What can i help you with?”

She tilted her head, and the motion should have been impossible if she were actually made of stone. He got the impression that she was amused despite not really being able to see her face.

“Protector. Knight. Hero. Father. You have assumed so many mantles.” Gotham spoke softly. “There is only so much i can do, i do interfere when i can.”

He nodded though he had no idea what she was talking about. He’d always pulled his own weight but if there was an otherworldly entity assisting him, would he know?

“I come to you, to ask for a favor. You, with the means to grant such a thing.”

“What sort of favor?”

“A halfa has been directed to my core with his human sister. They require living arrangements.” She spoke firmly. “I can offer them my love, my welcome, my embrace, even a taste of my power but monetary needs and documents are out of my hands.”

“A halfa?” Batman frowned, not understanding the phrase other than them not being human if their sister being human was clarified.

“Nooo…” Constantine stared, looking like he’d prefer it if the floor just opened up and swallowed him. “Not the halfa that defeated Pariah Dark...”

“The very same.” Gotham clasped her hands in front of her, form flickering again. She radiated pride.

“The halfa that defeated Pariah Dark and became the Ghost King?” Constantine obviously wanted to get the hell out of Gotham.

“The same.” She repeated.

“Ghost King?” Batman frowned. “Why is he coming here?”

She disappeared, reappearing several feet to her left. “He is in need of a home. He is only sixteen human years old.”

“He’s a child?!” Constantine looked horrified. “And he became the Ghost King!?”

“Yes.” She said, somewhat patient. “My son is welcome here, so you will welcome him.”

Constantine was lighting that second cigarette. “Son… I gotta...I gotta sit down.”

Batman however was trying to ignore what he couldn’t grasp at the moment, and focus on what he could. “Documentation and lodgings for two minors is well within my means to provide.” He glanced back at Constantine who was walking away to grab a chair. “You’ll explain the Ghost King thing later.”

Constantine just waved him off as he collapsed into a chair.

Lady Gotham had moved, now standing directly in front of Batman without having moved a muscle. “My son and his human sister know what it means to be hunted. My child’s core screams for help and receives so little.” She suddenly seemed to tower over batman in a way she didn’t before. “He will receive assistance here.”

Batman stood firm, but it would be a lie to say he was completely unaffected. Despite that trickle of fear in his chest, he’d always done his best to be there for his kids. It didn’t mean he was successful, but he tried. What was two more? “I understand. Whatever he’s running from will be handled. When will he arrive?”

Lady Gotham paused. “Soon. Travel is slow, but steady. Another day.”

Batman hummed, that was plenty of time to get everything set up temporarily. He would talk to the Ghost King and his sister to discuss more permanent plans. His attitude however, seemed to be just what Lady Gotham expected.

She turned to Constantine. “You will find him easiest. Bring them here.”

Constantine heaved a sigh and pulled out a flask from his jacket pocket. He didn’t barter, try to make some kind of deal, or attempt to gain some form of payment. Lady Gotham was a force of nature all on her own but there was no way he was pissing off the mother of the Ghost King. That was asking for trouble even if the kid was a king. His power must have been something else… “Got it.” he agreed.

She sighed, the sound content. “Thank you, Knight. My son will be in good hands.” Or Else, didn’t need to be spoken.

She turned, and just like that she was gone, her powerful aura along with her. In a flash it was like she’d never been there at all.

Batman took a moment to just breathe and regain his bearings before turning back to Constantine. “What did i just agree to?”

“Not much.” Constantine said dryly. “Just being the foster dad to the Ghost King. King of the Infinite Realm.”

Well… It wasn’t the first time he’d adopted a teenager. Batman just reaffirmed his plans for the rest of the day and turned to change back into his civilian attire and head back up into his mansion. He needed to talk to Alfred immediately.

“Better you than me…” Constantine grumbled. This was going to be pure chaos, but he also had to wonder…what it was that spooked the kid that defeated Pariah Dark? That was something to look into.

Neither man had noticed when Tim had walked in, having watched most of that interaction from a safe distance away. “What the absolute fuck was that....?” 

~~ ~~

I would really kind of enjoy a 16 year old Danny meeting and bonding with a 19 year old Jason… Also… Constantine texting Bruce the very moment he lays eyes on Danny. Yep! This kid is totally Wayne material. He’ll mix in with the others seamlessly.

No plans to continue this at this point if someone else wants a turn. 

~Edit- I apparently lied...  Part 2  

[misstycloud]

Yandere omega x reader. Pt 2

TW: baby-trapping, non-con

Pt. 1

——————————————-

Yandere omega who freaks out at the news of your recent engagement. This wasn’t supposed to happen! The stress keeps him from sleeping at night and makes him unfocused at work, so much that the boss has no other choice but to send him home to rest. They can’t have their most valuable asset either away, can they?

Yandere omega that believes that if he could rekindle your passion for him, maybe you’d break off the betrothal and come back to him. So he decides to rush to your home and ring the doorbell until you finally open.

Yandere omega who begs to let him in. It won’t be more than five minutes, he promises. He just needs to get some of his clothes that he forgot last time. Albeit reluctantly, you accept his excuse and allow him to wander inside, as you had done so many times before. But those were under different circumstances.

Previous to your arranged marriage, you were free to some degree. With a large amount of wealth and charm, you were able to get anyone you wanted. There were hardly someone who would pass the opportunity to spend some good time with you.

To maintain this life, the only thing you had to do was work and that you did. You had to say you did a great job in your family’s company, creating hit business deals and increasing the finances.

But it appeared your family would not be satisfied solely with that. That was why you have to marry some guy; to secure an heir to the corporation, as your parents would put it. Your mother was also rather intrigued by the idea of grandchildren as well.

Yandere omega sneaks into the bathroom to prepare by switching his casual outfit to a more eye-catching one. He even styled his hair slightly, hoping you’d pull on it like before.

Yandere omega who thought he could win back your affection, however, it appeared fate had other plans. The second you see him walking out the restroom wearing what he knew you’d have like him in had it been the past, you growled.

“Fuck, I should’ve known you’d pull shit like this.” You had to admit he did look very appetising. Though you were engaged now, which meant you couldn’t immerse in such activities anymore.

“Why the long face? You didn’t object before?” The beautiful omega whispered seductively.

“Yeah but- ugh- look, just go.” Pointing at the entrance, you ushered him to leave.

“I’d rather stay here though, with you.” He ignored your warning and continued advancing forwards into your arms, then he laid his head against your chest and dragged his nimble fingers across it.

“Milo, I said!-aah!” Quickly you slapped a hand over your mouth and nose, for something sickenly sweet and familiar filled your senses. “N-no stop…”

Milo smiled, showing delight at your troubled expression. “Ah, I knew you couldn’t resist me. No need to hold back.”

You wanted to push him back and create as much distance between you as possible, but it was getting hard when the young man in front of you looked so enticing. No, you must not give in.

“I- ahh~“you were forced to stop in your tracks because his hands had started wandering lower and lower, teasing you. “Shit…”

Yandere omega who had decided to use his trump card. No one could refuse his pheromones and that includes you. Milo hadn’t used that trick to intentionally seduce anyone before, so he wasn’t actually sure if it would work. Turns out luck was in his favour, even he was a bit surprised at how fast you yielded.

Yandere omega who is sooo happy he can be together with you again, and he is not meaning only for one last time until you finalise your vows or anything. Why is he so confident? Well, let’s just say he has a plan B to make you unable to leave.

Yandere omega that wonders how you would feel about having that son you always dreamed of.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want: Part 4

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, maybe. I don't think anything else. Sorry if there are typos.

Words: 1874

The One I Want Masterlist

---

“Are you excited?” Jake asks as he hands you a cup of coffee. 

You take a sip and let the liquid run down your throat, then pull the cup away from your face to examine it. Your eyes dart from the caramel-colored drink to your roommate and back. He keeps getting it right, and you don’t know how. It’s as if you wrote the exact measurements of the contents of your usual coffee order on a sticky note and slapped it on the fridge so he had no choice but to memorize it. 

“Thank you,” you say. “And, yea…I guess so. It’ll be nice to have a reason to get out every day, but I have a feeling I'll be bored sitting around.” Which you’re perfectly fine with. A job is a job in your mind, and stumbling upon the gift shop across from the beach was convenient for both hirer and hiree. But Jake doesn’t need to know just how unfeeling you are toward your new job. You wouldn’t put it past him to try to unnecessarily cheer you up.

He’s done it a lot. At any hint of distress, you find him beside you. And as someone who finds themself lost in thoughts that allow anxiety or stress or pain to seep onto their face, it means Jake Seresin is often close. Which also means you are constantly at war with what your mind is willing to accept. 

There’s the suspicious part consuming most of your mind, telling you that people—men like Jake, especially—don’t go out of their way. Not for someone like you. But another itty bitty piece of your mind wants to believe Jake truly is this nice and caring. You wouldn’t hate to have that kindness in your life be a permanent fixture. 

Since you moved in you can’t deny that you rise each morning a little less worried about what the day will hit you with. And you know it’s Jake who has fueled that—indirectly, even. He has yet to comment on you or your body or your clothes or what you eat. Neither positively nor negatively. Though you do catch him staring from time to time, whatever he is thinking doesn’t leave his mouth, which is far more restraint than others have shown in the past. 

Jake shoves his hands into his sweatpants pockets and shrugs. “We usually take an hour for lunch. I could always stop by.”

“And do what?” You can’t hold back your snort, nor can you conceal the upturned tick of your lips. Your first smile of the day, light as it is, and Jake’s eyes fix on your mouth until you say, “Are you overdue for a new keychain or cheap beach snow globe?”

“I might be. Those snow globes are great,” he says with a grin, endearingly crooked. “You know, you shake ‘em around; snow goes all over the place.”

“Yes, I’m aware of how they work.”

“Well then you understand why I might want a new one,” he sasses, all but sticking his tongue out like a child.

You hum to hold back your laugh, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing you’ve started to find him funny in the last few weeks. Something tells you his ego doesn’t need it. Then, with your hand extended you pass him the mug and make your way toward the door to grab your purse off the nearby hook. “I’ll try to remember that. Thanks for the coffee.”

You are almost out the door, out of his sight and so close to gaining the distance you’ve decided you need from him, when he calls out to you.  “Hey, do you want me to pick you up at the end of your shift?”

The smile you’d finally let free from his earlier joke falls, and you swallow hard, suddenly wishing you’d had the money to keep the rental car you used to get yourself from one state to the next. Though you’ll have hours away from him for the day, and the days to come, Jake coming to get you when you’re likely drained from boredom will instantly ruin the mental fortitude you’re trying to regain. 

You’d never speak it into existence, but your new job benefits you in more ways than one. After coming up short on last month's rent, you’ll finally be able to put a dent in the money you owe him—because you are paying him even though he doesn’t ask for it—but you were also banking on the separation giving you the chance to get your thoughts and pulse under control. 

Anticipation has wormed its way into your daily routine lately. You wake. Wash face. Brush teeth. Dress. Think of Jake. Scold yourself for thinking of Jake. Itch to see him, for reasons you’d rather not focus on. Get pissed for the rapid beating of your heart. 

You don’t need it. Not the unexpected thoughts, not the chaos of your pulse, not the disappointment in yourself for failing to learn from previous experiences. Thinking of him too often will fuck things up and leave you worrying about much more than just Jake or his friends or the odd stranger paralyzing you from a sudden comment or snide remark on how you look. Before you know it, you’ll be digging into the front pocket of your suitcase for the final two notecards and tossing a coin. 

“It’s only a mile-long walk,” you say, praying the unsteadiness of your voice isn’t detectable through the wall segmenting hallway from kitchen.

“So?”

You sigh. Definitely not the answer you wanted. You don’t know how to respond. There’s no excuse on the tip of your tongue, so you settle on, “Have a good day, Jake. Go save the country or something.”

—

You were spot on with that boredom prediction. Hours have passed and you’ve been forced to fill the time with menial tasks that might just be shrinking a few brain cells. Examining every item in the shop, counting every item in the shop, recounting the little squishy sea critter toys after a group of preteen girls lingered too long in that aisle. As someone so used to being on the move, each minute is slowly eating away you. 

With limited options, there are opportunities to let your mind wander and, eventually, you drift into your memories. When the urge to stop them arises, you’re shocked that you kick it back. And before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re grabbing a pocket-sized navy-colored notebook and a pen with a plastic seashell for a cap. 

A self-help book you’d skimmed a year prior suggested writing things down to process trauma and grief. The author-slash-therapist didn’t ask for well-detailed memories and feelings, but instead, a quick scribbling of the first things that come to mind. Despite how simple the task seemed, you hadn’t considered it. It seemed silly to relive the pain, to rip open wounds. Even poorly stitched wounds, you won’t deny, that left ragged and raised scars. You’d just been content with no longer bleeding. 

But recently, you’ve neglected a pulling; a string threaded and knotted into your heart with a force trying to tug it free from the confines of your chest. Though you know that would only serve one unenticing purpose, to demand you examine the organ and assess the damage time has worn into it, you don’t reconsider flipping open the cover of the notebook. 

With a free mind, you write down names, places, and towns. You write down words that were thrown at you. You write down the first time someone attacked your most vulnerable parts. And the things said and done that drove you out of one location and onto the next. You write until pages of white are filled with what could only be compared to an insane person's pastime. You write until another customer comes in just as the sun begins to fade. 

You feel her presence before you look up from the notebook in your lap, and when you finally do, you internally flinch at the sight. 

The pin-straight yellow strands of her hair reach a few inches below her shoulders, her lips are coated in bright red, and her eyes are enhanced with heavy dark shadow tones. She is tits shoved together, pushing cleavage out the low V of her camisole, and tight ass filling out tighter, dangerously short, shorts, and tiny waist a man could wrap his hands around and touch fingertips. She’s everything you avoid, and she pays you no mind as she makes her way to the mugs at the back corner of the store before heading for the t-shirts.

It’s obvious she entered with a mission when you find her not one minute later standing in front of you and setting the items on the counter. As you scan and wrap the mug and place it in the bag with the shirt, you don’t miss the similar words written across both cheap gifts. My Boyfriend is a Naval Aviator flows in cursive script over the chest of the shirt. My Girlfriend F*cks a Naval Aviator curves with the rounded shape of the mug.

You wonder if that boyfriend is one of Jake’s friends. Rooster does have a girlfriend and you have no way of knowing if this woman is his type. You kind of hope she isn’t. 

“It’s sixteen dollars even,” you mutter. 

She reaches into her cami and pulls out a twenty, slamming it down on the glass countertop that doubles as a display case for the slightly more expensive, yet still cheap, merchandise. The leftover four dollars are then shoved back between her push-up bra and breast. The bag is ripped from your hand and she promptly exits. 

That’s one way to end a first day, you think. At least it was one more thing to do with your time. Annoying kids, a notebook you’re not going to dare touch for a few days, and a woman with underlying anger issues who reminds you too much of your past. You deflate as you realize tomorrow is not likely to end up nearly as eventful.

Closing the shop is, thankfully, a quick process, because you’d like to make it back to the apartment before the moon and stars become your main light source. Walking home in the dark doesn’t suit you but you weren’t about to accept Jake’s offer knowing it likely wouldn’t stop there. First he’ll be picking you up, then it’ll develop into him dropping you off, then you’ll be hanging out with him and his friends every weekend. And then what? What good will any of that do you?

As it turns out, though, you don’t have a choice. 

Once the building door is shut and locked, you turn to find a black truck pulling up beside you. Your heart misses its next beat as fear grips you, but then you recognize the vehicle. The passenger window rolls down to reveal sandy blond hair, then green eyes, then sharp nose, then wide grin.

“You didn’t actually say no,” Jake says. 

Fuck. 

With a sigh and a roll of your eyes, you step closer, wrap your fingers around the car door handle, and pull. 

---

A/N: ended up having to do something tonight, so this part came a little early. I hope you liked it :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath

[coco-loco-nut]

Choices

pairing: logan x reader, pato o’ward x reader

summary: when your first love comes back into your life, you are stuck between two choices.

a/n: please enjoy my drunk, post-indy, fic idea (i wrote most of the plot while drunk at the bar. college towns are great guys 😂)

masterlist part 2

———————

“I am so proud of you, amor!” Pato hugs you as soon as he sees you after your graduation. He’s been supporting you since you joined the team as an undergraduate engineering last summer with Arrow McLaren.

“I couldn’t have done it without your support, Pato,” you smile, admiring your boyfriend. He would make sure to visit you when he got the chance, and he always picked up when you called needing to vent or asking for motivation. Your lock screen was a picture of the two of you at a hockey game you snuck him into the student section for, he showed up as a surprise that weekend to help you relax.

“Don’t say that, you got this because of your own merit. The guys send their congratulations, by the way,” Pato tells you. The only people who know about you dating are the other drivers, you didn’t want to risk your internship.

“I hope they aren’t too tired of me, I just accepted an offer for a full time position,” you tell him what you’ve been keeping secret the past few months.

“You deserve it. Does that mean you will be coming to Indy with me?” Pato asks, rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand.

“Of course. Now, let’s find my parents, I know they will want pictures,” you kiss Pato quickly before looking for your parents. He spots them waiting a few yards away and pulls you over. They have to leave after a celebratory lunch, but Pato stays to help you finish packing up your apartment. You utilize his muscles for putting things in your U-Haul trailer. He even manages to convince you to let him drive to Indianapolis with you.

It doesn’t take you long to settle in with the team that year. Your coworkers throw you a 23rd birthday party the next spring, inviting everyone who worked in the garage (including the drivers) to celebrate. You worked your tail off proving why you deserve to be there and they said you deserve to let loose before the summer.

Later that second summer you are on a date with Pato for your two year anniversary when you get a call from your boss offering a promotion, which you quickly accept.

“You deserve it, you’ve worked so hard,” Pato reaches across the table, grabbing your hand and squeezing it.

“Your support makes it possible, babe,” you reply, squeezing his hand back. You are so helplessly in love with him. At the end of the season, Pato has a ring picked out and he had a plan before he is flown out to Abu Dahbi to drive in free practice for Formula One.

Unbeknownst to Pato, while he is away you are asked to join a virtual meeting with some higher up engineers at McLaren.

“We’d like you to join our Formula One team as we finish developing next year’s car. We will assist in your relocation, all you need to do is say yes,” the offer is virtually laid in front of you. Your mind immediately goes to Pato.

“When do you need an answer?” you ask, making sure you don’t sound disinterested.

“Two days,” they say and you nod.

“I’ll have my decision into you by then. Thank you so much for the opportunity,” you tell them, mulling it over in your brain. A copy of the details pops up in your inbox.

“We hope you say yes,” they tell you as you leave the call.

As you read the document, you know what your answer is going to be. The next day Pato returns and you go for a walk through the local park.

“Will you marry me?” Pato blurts and your heart drops.

“Patricio-,” you start and he cuts you off.

“I know, we are young but-,” this time you cut him off.

“I’m moving to England. McLaren wants me to move to the F1 team, and they are offering to pay for me to get my Masters as well as helping with my relocation, and the money is good,” you start to ramble but stop when the hurt in his eyes matches the hurt in your heart.

“Mi amor, I can support you here, I have enough money for both of us,” he says, praying you didn’t accept yet.

“Babe, I know, but I have to do it for myself. I have to accept the job,” you say, silently pleading that he understands.

“What about us,” tears start rolling down his cheeks.

“I don’t know, Patricio,” tears form in your eyes as you say his name softly, he loves it when you call him by his full name.

“We can make it work,” Pato says, despite both of you knowing it won’t.

“Pato,” your voice cracks with emotion. The two of you know what has to happen.

“I know. At least keep this, it’s only meant for you. Maybe one day it will be on its rightful place,” he pulls out the ring and shows it to you. That’s when the tears flow, and he pulls you into him.

“Please don’t think that I don’t love you. I would say yes a million times if it wasn’t for this offer. This is the hardest decision I’ve ever made,” you cry as he holds you tight.

“I know. I love you more than you know,” he whispers. He walks you back to your apartment, leaving you with a heartfelt kiss goodbye. A few days later you are gone.

When you meet Lando and Oscar, you are wary of them, they remind you too much of Pato, but it only takes a week for them to crack your shell. They saw how sad you were and learned how young you are and immediately wanted to get to know the new American on the team.

You carefully balance work and classes, wishing you could pick up the phone and call Pato, but you can’t. Instead, you fiddle with the ring you keep on a chain around your neck, you added a P charm to the necklace.

“Y/n! I want you to meet Logan, he’s American too,” Oscar drags a blonde boy into the motorhome behind him during testing. You look up from your coursework and offer a welcoming smile.

“There aren’t many Americans around, are there?” you jokingly ask, motioning for Logan to sit down.

“No. So where are you from?” Logan asks as you quickly mark where you are at. Oscar slips out of the room, hoping his matchmaking skills worked as you tell Logan about your start in Indycar.

Oscar failed at first, you were determined to keep Logan in the friend zone. But he broke down your walls and somehow convinced you to date him a couple months later.

Everything goes smoothly from late May until October when COTA comes around. You visit your family the week before the race, and that’s when your mother drops a bomb.

“What are you going to do when you see Pato this weekend?” she asks.

“What?”

“Didn’t you see? Pato is driving free practice at COTA and Mexico,” your mom tells you and you feel your stomach flip, it takes everything in you to not reach for the ring around your neck.

“No, I must’ve missed that email,” you say softly. You do really love Logan, but there is a reason you can’t bring yourself to take off the necklace unless you are with Logan. There’s been times when you have wanted to tell him, Oscar, and Lando about Pato, but you never do, it’s too painful.

You arrive at COTA and it’s clear something is off, but you brush every question off. Pato arrives the same way, nervous to see you again. He is wearing a hair tie on his wrist, one that you left behind. He wears it for the same reason you wear the ring.

“Oh! One of our engineers is from America, used to work in IndyCar. Maybe you know her,” Lando says to Pato, not picking up on Pato’s uncomfortableness as Lando drags him around. It’s odd for the Mexican driver to be uncomfortable.

“Y/n, hi,” Pato awkwardly and breathlessly says, you almost drop your tablet from where you are standing in the garage. How is it possible for him to look this good.

“Patricio, hi. How are you doing? Tough luck on the 500, I meant to text you,” you say softly, setting the tablet down and approaching him and Lando. He can barely breathe, to him you’ve only gotten more beautiful.

“Thanks, it’s okay, I’ll get it next year. Maybe I would’ve won if you were there,” Pato ruefully smiles, your heart drops.

“Maybe, but don’t think like that. You’ve always been okay driving without me,” you match his rueful smile. Lando looks between you, a little confused. Pato goes to say something, noticing a P sticking out of the collar of your shirt where a necklace is, but Oscar interrupts.

“Hey, Logan is looking for you outside,” Oscar tells you, you can’t suppress the happy look on your face.

“It was nice talking to you again, Pato,” you tell the Mexican and quickly exit towards where Logan is waiting.

“How do you know her?” oscar asks suspiciously, picking up the longing look Pato is giving you.

“She’s my ex, she broke up with me when she moved to formula one. We were going to get married,” Lando cringes. he remembers how sad you were when you joined the team, it’s why he befriended you. “Who is Logan?” Pato asks Oscar, feeling like he’s missing something.

“Her boyfriend,” Oscar says, feeling the urge to defend his best friend and engineer, but also wanting to crawl in a hole and die.

“That’s something you need to talk about with her, if it makes any difference, she was unhappy for a long time after moving here,” Lando says, ending that topic.

Pato nods, turning his focus to the drive. Luckily for you, you are currently one of Lando’s engineers, so you are busy with him all weekend.

“Y/n, we should talk,” Pato approaches you carefully.

“Pato,” you say his name warily, it’s like a dagger to his heart.

“Please. Come with me to Mexico. I won’t try anything out of respect to your boyfriend, but we both deserve to talk about some stuff. Plus, Mami and Elba miss you,” Pato says and you pause to think about it.

“San Antonio is on the way,” you think out loud, still mulling it over.

“It’s just tomorrow that we’d be there, leaving first think Tuesday morning to get to the track on time,” Pato insists. Even if it’s a bad idea, almost all of you wants to go.

“Okay, I’ll join you,” you relent, and he almost hugs you.

“I’ll drive you from the hotel,” Pato says, turning to leave before turning around again. “You will have to unblock my number so I can text you,” he adds and you fight the smile playing on your lips.

“I never blocked you, Patricio,” you admit, and his heart melts at how you say his name.

“Oh, I will see you soon then,” he says, not quite sure how to reply, leaving you to pack you backpack.

“You okay?” Lando asks and you shoot him a weird look.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“We know you used to date him,” Lando says and your eyes widen.

“We?”

“Oscar and I, yeah. Wait, you aren’t even denying it,”

“I broke up with him to take the job here when he was proposing even when I wanted to say yes, we dated most of the time I was at Arrow McLaren, I still wear his ring and initial on a necklace,” you blurt, knowing Lando isn’t going to judge too much.

“Oh. Wow, ok. Is it a nice ring?” Lando asks and you tug the chain, pulling it in front of your polo. “He has good taste. What were you talking about?” Lando pushes further as you tuck the chain behind your polo again.

“I’m going to San Antonio with him tonight and tomorrow,” you say, needing someone to confide in that isn’t your college friends.

“Does Logan know?” Lando asks and you shake you head.

“That’s the next step, once you are done asking questions,” you bump his shoulder lightly.

“No, like, does he know about your history with Pato,” Lando asks, glad Oscar isn’t around.

“No, I can never bring myself to tell him. I think we both know that we might not last past this season,” you admit. Logan and you had said as much to each other a couple weeks ago. He admitted that he isn’t sure where he sees it going after the season.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lando pauses, thinking about it.

“Don’t be, he knows that I had just gotten out of a serious relationship when we became friends and I know he isn’t ready for something long term yet. Obviously I’m still going to try to make things work, because I do love him, but I’m also going to take comfort in knowing that we tried,” you pull your backpack over your shoulders. Lando says a quick goodbye before you walk out to find Logan’s rental car where he is waiting.

“Hey sweetie,” he kisses you when you get in. Any tension in your body leaves when you see him.

“Hi, Lo, ready to get back to the hotel?” you ask as he backs out of the space.

“So ready, I just want cuddles and a nap,” Logan groans a little, you reach up and play with the ends of his hair as he drives. Despite you having a room from McLaren, you are staying with Logan in his room this race weekend.

“That sounds perfect,” you admire the way the sun makes his hair look lighter and his blue eyes clearer. You change while he takes a quick shower, tucking the necklace into a pocket in your backpack.

“Don’t go to San Antonio with Pato,” Logan says suddenly while you lay in bed with him.

“What?”

“Come with me back to Fort Lauderdale instead, please. I heard Pato tell Oscar that you were joining him, and I know your history with him even if you didn’t explicitly tell me. And I get it, it must be hard to bring up. I don’t want to lose you, I love you,” Logan whispers and you feel your gut twist as you are left with a choice.

Logan offers you a chance to start fresh and continue the new relationship you built, but Pato offers the chance to rekindle an old flame that never quite burnt out. How the hell are you going to choose.

part two

[thewritingofamadwoman]

That’s My Girl

Another attempt at writing Roy Kent. Inspired by the amazingly sweet @onceuponaoneshotfanfic

Pairing: Roy Kent x Fem!Reader (established relationship)

Warnings: Tons of fluff, more of Roy Kent’s potty mouth, a secret relationship and Jamie Tartt being the reader and Roy’s unofficial child.

Enjoy!!

The second the words “no curfew tonight” came out of Ted Lasso’s mouth, you just knew the evening was going to be a fun one. Both you and Roy had agreed on the way to Amsterdam that you’d both spend the last night together, sightseeing and then staying in bed for hours while everyone else was none the wiser.

As the team’s co-pr manager, it was imperative that you tagged along on the trip for business reasons; Rebecca also told you if you didn’t come along and enjoy yourself she’d purposely make your life hell. So here you are, on the charter bus with the rest of your friends. You looked down at your phone, the time reading 5pm. Roy suggested meeting up at around 9pm, when everyone else was surely going to be in their rooms. It was the perfect plan…which meant it probably wasn’t going to happen.

You looked over at Roy, who gave you a sly wink before getting up and roaring at Jamie Tartt.

“Not for you Tartt!”

Your beloved got up and grabbed Jamie’s bag, tossing it to Will before storming outside. Jamie, depressed that he’d be spending the rest of his time in Amsterdam training, got up from his seat reluctantly. Before heading out, he stretched and looked back, noticing you seated in the back. As if having a moment of clarity, his brain immediately came up with what he thought was an ingenious plan. He called your name and once you looked up at him, he put his plan into action.

“Hey love, do you have any plans right now?” He smiled, everyone else on the bus discussing their potential curfew free plans.

“Not really, I was gonna head back to my room and nap for a bit I guess. Why?”

Jamie’s smile widened.

“Nahhh a gorgeous girl like you alone in a hotel room? Not happening. Come on, hang out with me and grandad for a bit.”

You laughed, and so did some of the players listening in.

“Fuck it, why not?” You said, and the bus is filled with loud cheers once more as you made your way towards Jamie, who took your hand and pulled you out of the bus with him. The first thing you saw was Roy’s back to the bus as he stretched his legs.

“Took you fucking long enou-what are you doing here?” Roy asked, his face full of genuine surprise. You shrugged and pointed to Jamie who smiled like the cat who caught the canary.

“This stunner was going to go back to the hotel alone and take a nap. In one of the worlds’ most beautiful cities. I couldn’t let that happen. And who better to keep her company than us fine, young gentleman. Well, some of us more young than others, isn’t that right grandad?”

Roy gave Jamie a deadpan expression and growled lowly. You shook your head and chuckled.

“I hope that’s alright? You don’t mind do you, Roy?” You gave the poor man one of your sweetest smiles, one that Roy had fallen in love with over the course of the last few months. Roy sighed and eventually nodded, the thoughts of the night he had planned for the two of you going down the drain. Jamie cheered and punched Roy’s shoulder, jogging backwards with his hands in the air.

“Come on Roy! Lighten up! Here, I’ll run ahead while you two trail behind me. Can’t have gorgeous here run in those heels. Fantastic heels by the way,” Jamie said as he ran his gaze from your heels to your face, winking as he reached your eyes. The striker was doing his absolute best to get Roy to react to him flirting with you. He knew the coach had feelings for you, it was painstakingly obvious. But he doubted the man would ever make a move. So his “genius plan” was to spend the evening turning on the signature Tartt charm as much as he could until Roy had no choice but to confess his love for you. The perfect plan, Jamie thought to himself.

You blushed at the compliment and laughed , shocked that he was flirting so boldly with you in front of your boyfriend. Not that he knew you two were an item, but still. Roy, on the other hand, was glaring so hard at Jamie that it was a surprise the young man hadn’t combusted into flame. Jamie gave you both a very cheeky smile, turned around, and began to run.

“Come on, grandad! Keep up!”

Roy growled and you laughed once more, causing the older man to look at you.

“And what are you laughing at?” Roy grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as you two began to walk, keeping Jamie in your sights as he ran up ahead.

“At how easy it is for Jamie Tartt to get you riled up. He’s only being silly, don’t let it bother you,” you smiled, reaching over and placing a hand on Roy’s arm.

“And besides, we did want to sightsee, and now we get to do that earlier than planned,” you added, looking around at the beautiful city around you. Roy scoffed and looked back at you.

“Yeah, I wanted us to sightsee without Jamie Fucking Tartt running around like a child we need to keep on a leash.” You giggled and Roy’s lip ticked upwards, the sound of your laugh being one of his favorite things.

“I don’t know babe, this might be a glimpse into our future,” you teased sweetly, looking at Roy playfully. Once again, Roy snorted and turned to look at you.

“Please, our children will be way more behaved than that twat.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about our future children hmm?” Your heart soared at the thought of Roy seeing a future with you. Roy looked at you dumbfounded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course. Why the fuck wouldn’t I?”

Your heart melted, and you were about to reply when Jamie suddenly appeared from behind the both of you, squeezing himself in between you and wrapping an arm around each of your shoulders.

“Look at you two, looking all chummy. And look at this magnificent city! Have either of you seen the tulip gardens? Or the windmills? We’re actually coming up to the world famous Skinny Bridge, just up ahead. Did you know that it’s one of the most romantic places in the world? Legend says that a kiss between lovers while on this bridge ensures that they will be in love forever. Isn’t that LOVELY, Roy?”

Jamie had pulled you both close to him, and thus each other as he continued to spit fact after fact about the romantic connotations of the bridge. Roy looked murderous, annoyed at Jamie’s incessant chatter. Roy had originally planned to take you to the bridge later that night to share that very same fact. He was a romantic at heart, and you were one of the very few people to know that about the mysterious Roy Kent. He was also a man with a VERY short fuse.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” he growled, and the striker stepped forward from between the two of you and turned around, running in place while he faced you.

“I think it’s lovely, Jamie,” you said, trying to defuse any tension and placate the young man. Jamie beamed at you.

“I thought you would. I bet even someone as tough and grumpy as Roy believes in true love, don’t you Coach?” Jamie began his jumping jacks while looking at Roy, who only grunted in response. The Mancunian then pulled out his phone and handed it to Roy.

“Come on Coach, take a few pictures of the two of us and I’ll take a few of you two as well!” He said enthusiastically as he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him towards the bridge. After a few photos with you, Jamie suggested he take a few photos of you alone on the bridge. You agreed, posing and laughing, causing both men to smile as they watched you. Roy even let out a laugh as you posed dramatically on the railing of the bridge. As you continued to look out onto the water, Jamie nudged Roy.

“Look at her, mate. She’s fucking stunning. Do you think she’s seeing anyone? I mean, any man would be a fool not to snatch her up and never let her go. I mean, look at her,” Jamie nodded towards you as you were being approached by another young couple who asked you to take their photo. Roy watched as you smiled politely and took a few pictures of the couple, watching you light up as they loved the pictures and thanked you. Jamie watched Roy’s expression, seeing how the man let down his guard as he looked at you. Jamie nudged him again.

“Go on mate, don’t let someone else come along and steal her away. Don’t let another man have the opportunity to stare at that bum. I mean LOOK at that ass-“ Jamie was cut off from his sweet-turned-idiotic ramble by Roy advancing on him.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Tartt,” but before Roy’s fist could collide with his face, Jamie called your name, catching your attention.

“Would you like some pictures with Coach Kent? I’m sure he’d love to take some with you!”

Jamie watched as Roy glared at him before walking over to you to stand next to you almost begrudgingly.

“What, don’t want to take a picture with me?” You teased him and he gave you a look.

“Don’t start, you know that’s not true.”

“Come on now guys, you’re on a romantic bridge. How about you pretend to, you know, be in love or something. Like a couple. Pose couple-y. Go on.”

You and Roy looked at one another, before you decided to just play along. You stood close to Roy and placed a hand on his chest, stepping closer than you usually would when you weren’t alone together. As if running on autopilot, the second you stood close to him, Roy’s arm snaked around your waist. Jamie whistled and Roy glared even harder than before. You could tell Jamie was starting to get to him.

“Just take the photo please, Jamie.” You pleaded with a small smile. You had a sneaking suspicion that Jamie knew what he was doing but didn’t want to think of that yet, choosing to focus on the smell of Roy’s cologne and the feel of his warmth against you. After a few pictures, Jamie decided to start up on his training again and began skipping forward.

After a few more stops at historic landmarks and a few more ridiculous flirtatious comments and innuendos from Jamie, you paused for a moment of respite by a chip shop. Jamie went in to use the bathroom when you turned to Roy, who was fuming.

“I’m going to fucking kill him. If he talks about windmills ONE more time, I’m going to throw him over the fucking bridge!” You giggled at his anger and tried to soothe him, placing a hand on one of Roy’s arms.

“I don’t know if you can tell, but I’m pretty sure Jamie is either on to us or really wants to play match maker,” you admitted and Roy grunted.

“Yeah I know, he’s a smooth as a bull in a china shop. Phoebe would have been more subtle than him,” You let out a laugh and nodded and Roy continued. “I have half a mind to give in and tell him. But watching him think he’s failing at getting us together truly gives my soul the peace it needs.”

You laughed harder and Jamie finally made his way back with an order of chips in one hand and a tulip in the other. He walked up to you and handed you both.

“Crisp chips and a flower for the lovely lady. Coach maybe you should take notes, this is how you treat a beautiful woman,” Jamie preened and you could see Roy’s resolve begin crumble. Jamie was going to leave Amsterdam with a black eye if he didn’t stop pushing Roy’s buttons. You decided you had enough and made your move.

“I don’t think Roy needs any tips on how to treat a woman, Jamie. He makes sure I’m nice and satisfied at least twice every morning before even heading off to work. Now, if you’re done teasing him: yes we’re together, no, no one knows except for you and we’d like to keep it that way please, and thank you for the chips. Shall we continue?”

You didn’t wait for Jamie or Roy to reply before stepping forward and making your way down the cobblestone street, popping a warm chip into your mouth and twirling the tulip in your hand. Roy’s eyes followed you, full of pride and love, impressed at how you handled the situation. Jamie, however, looked like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing before finding words.

“You fucking cunts, you’ve been together this entire time?? For how long?? I’ve been trying to get you to admit you like her for HOURS!”

Roy gave a smug, satisfied smile.

“Not that it’s any of your fucking business, but today marks six months. And I had fucking dinner plans tonight but you and your fucking windmills ruined it.”

Jamie was still gaping, staring back and forth between your retreating figure and Roy’s smug face.

“Six fucking months?! Roy Kent, you absolute legend. She’s wonderful, I’m happy for you Coach.”

Roy smiled and for a split second, he could see himself becoming closer friends with the team striker.

“Oi!”

Your voice brought both Jamie and Roy’s attention back to you.

“Are you two coming or not? I was promised windmills and I want to see windmills!”

You smiled at your boys, one hand holding your flower and chips and the other hand on your hip as you waited for them to come to you.

“That’s your girl, mate.” Jamie teased as he looked at the taller man. Roy smirked, a genuine smile before nodding his head.

“That’s my girl.”

And with that, both men caught up with you. You passed the chips to Jamie before hooking your arm with Roy’s, the three of you making your way to wherever the windmill hunt took you.

[confessedlyfannish]

DP x DC Writing Prompt #10

Damian wakes up to low-pitched arguing, and in his daze thinks the hand running through his hair is Richard's.

"S'rry," he murmurs, turning his cheek into the hand. His head hurts, and Richard's hand is cool against his cheek, delicate nails ghosting over his scalp.

Hm. Richard does not have delicate nails. Nor a woman's voice.

"-lty is to Danny, all you've done is put a bigger target on our backs!"

"So be it," the young woman says, voice measured. It's her hand that's in Damian's hair. He'd pull away but his body is weighed down, eyelids barely ably to slip open to grab a glimpse of ginger hair before slamming shut again.

He's...drugged. He thinks. Nothing he recognizes immediately, but it's been a while since his poisoning sessions and thinking right now is difficult. His mask is still on, which means his identity is intact. There's nothing he can do except hope it will stay that way.

And so he sinks back under.

Some time later, he resurfaces with more lucidity. He's still costumed, mask on. His body still feels heavy, but this time he can wedge his eyes open enough to catch three figures next to the bed he now lies on. The redhead stands closest.

"--you an out," she is saying, her back to Damian. The other two, a pale girl with pitch black hair and a boy wearing a red cap, look at each other.

"That's not what we're asking for, and you know it!" The pale girl yells.

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't take it." The woman says, her voice extremely level in comparison. This only seems to agitate the girl further.

"Team Phantom means we make decisions as a team, Jazz." The boy says through grit teeth. "And if you had run this by us, we would've,"

"Said no--" the pale girl says, meanly.

"--At least figured out a better way," the boy says, head turning sharply towards the girl. "Between this and Jefferson you've been making really rash choices. We can't find Danny if we get caught by the Justice Loogies--"

"Team Phantom," the redhead interrupts. She turns towards Damian, and if she notices he's awake, she doesn't say anything. "You really don't get it, do you. There is no Team Phantom, because Danny's gone. We're not going to find him."

"Stop eating their bs--"

"Stop living in denial, Sam. Both of you. We can't find Danny because Danny's not anywhere to be found."

"They wouldn't get rid of him--"

"Why wouldn't they? Don't you see?" Jazz says, whirling around. She waves a blurry arm in Damian's direction.

"They can recreate the experiment anytime they want. And they do want. They found his genetic doppelgänger when they got their hands on Robin's blood. That's what they had on file in Jefferson."

Jefferson, Damian thinks. It's familiar. Information starts to filter in. It's not a person, but a place. There was an explosion at a government facility. Blew up three city blocks. 45 Casualties.

The redhead's a terrorist. He thinks. Redhead.

Fuck. She'd been getting mugged. He'd rescued her. Her face had been bruised.

She'd wanted to go to the hospital. Held onto his cape for dear life. Flinched back from Richard.

He'd smirked at Grayson before offering to escort her.

He'd felt important.

...He'd been an idiot.

"--You really think he'd just hand him over?"

"I don't know anything about Batman," the girl says. "But I'm not letting another brother die."

There's a sharp inhale, and neither side speaks.

"So that's it," the pale girl says. "You give up and immediately go get a replacement?"

"Sam..." the boy says warningly.

"Danny would want me to protect him," Jazz says. "So that's what I'm going to do. And you are free to leave."

"You're acting fucking crazy," Sam says. "And you're too deep in your grief to realize it. Danny would want none of this."

"Well then maybe it's a good thing he's not here," Jazz says, "Maybe I should be thanking you two instead."

The resulting silence is so sharp Damian hears only the sound of his own breaths.

"Fuck you," the girl spits, a door slamming a split second later. The boy doesn't say a word, crossing over to Damian.

"I'm going to keep looking, Jazz," he says, after a long moment. "I'm going to find him. Because he's alive."

Jazz doesn't respond.

"Listen, they found Robin's blood, right? They don't know who he is, so if we tell him to stop with the costume, lay low-"

"They'll finger prick all of Gotham if they have to. You know that. They can't get to him here, not with the portals and research destroyed. Even if they catch Mom and Dad, the ghosts will rip them to pieces if they ever step foot in the zone."

Jazz steps closer to Damian. "Here, Superman won't be able to hear his heartbeat."

"What happens when he wakes up? Wants to go home? He must have a family out there, he can't be Robin 24/7."

"You know I used to read to Danny?" Jazz says. Her voice is distant. "Every night before bed. He'd never heard a fairy tale before. He could read, of course, but he liked the way—" Jazz swallows. "He liked the way I did the voices. We were supposed to be in bed by 9 but when Mom would come to check on us we'd just pretend we were asleep. Danny was really good at it, but I could always tell when he was pretending."

A hand brushes through his hair again.

"You really are his twin, Damian."

Damian opens his eyes and sits up as the boy, a teenager his own age, takes a startled step back. Jazz, yes, the woman he'd 'rescued', smiles warmly at him.

He's in a canopied bed, surrounded by rich fabrics and what looks to be purple-bricked walls. There's a green tinted window to his right. Bookshelves with old looking tomes lines the walls and a suit of armor stands by the door. He notes the mace in its hands. With any luck, it won't be welded to the gloves.

"Danyal is dead," he says shortly. Jazz's smile turns sad.

"Yes," she takes his hand. "I'm so sorry you had to find out this way. He was so brave—,"

Damian yanks his hand away. "No, he's not newly dead, he's been dead. For years."

Jazz shakes her head, that same sad condescending smile on her face. "No, Danny didn't die. He escaped the League. He told me all about you. He," her voice wobbles, "he loved you very much."

Damian's blood churns. "You're lying."

"He lived, and he was a hero, like you. He helped people. And then he became a King," Jazz says. She continues to smile, even as tears start to trail down her face. "Which makes you a prince."

She sounds, to quote Sam, fucking crazy. And now that he can see the manic gleam in her eyes, she looks it too. Damian shoots an incredulous glance at the boy, but he refuses to make eye contact.

Jazz stands up and opens her arms out, gesturing to the room. "This was his home. And now it's yours."

Damian weighs his responses. Remembers Dick's lessons in diplomacy.

And still chooses the nuclear option: "If you know of the League then you know what it means to be the heir of Ra's Al Ghul. I will not be made into a prisoner and if you attempt to keep me here, you will be sorry."

The boy mouths "the league" to himself, questioningly, but Jazz doesn't so much as flinch.

"I know this is a long to take in," she says, voice dripping with sympathy. "But I promise, it will all make sense, and in time you'll come to adjust. Let's let Damian rest, Tucker."

The boy, Tucker, looks at him now with a troubled gaze, but when Jazz opens the door he reluctantly walks out. Jazz pauses in the doorway.

"Damian," she says, that same far off tone in her voice, her back to him. "Danny used to tell me about the League's code. Hunting down those that threatened its power without ceasing. Ensuring every target was dead. No mission left uncompleted. No failure tolerated."

Jazz looks back at him, a small serene smile on her face. "I'm going to avenge our brother Damian. I'm going to hunt down every last one of them. Without ceasing. Without failure. You have my word."

She cocks her head at him thoughtfully. "Danny loved macadamia nut muffins. I'll pick us up some on my way back. A welcome home present."

She strides out the door. Damian waits to hear a lock turn, but there is nothing but the sound of her fading footsteps. He waits until the noise has fully faded before he attempts to stand, glaring at his legs until they sluggishly begin to respond.

A squeaking noise erupts from the far wall and he watches in disbelief as the suit of armor creakily moves to stand in front of the door. Sufficiently positioned, it ceases all movement once more. However, now Damian can make out the two glowing red dots staring straight through the slits of its helm.

Damian's lip curls up in a wicked snarl that Jason calls feral as it becomes clear the guard is not going to attack but rather...guard. He heads for the window instead and stops short as he gets his first peek of the outside.

The window is not tinted green at all. Instead, for as far as he can see, there is an unnatural, electric green. Blobs of more of the green float and drift through the expanse, as if he is trapped in a lava lamp.

Here, Superman won't be able to hear his heartbeat.

"Where am I?" Damian asks, staring out into the void. This whole time he's been angry, and embarrassed, and annoyed. But for the first time since this ordeal began, he feels afraid.

"Where am I?"

[nxathyx]

Bsd boys with a sassy reader

Chuuya Nakahara x gn!reader, Dazai Osamu x Gn!Reader, Nikolai Gogol x Gn!reader, Fyodor Dostoyevski x Gn!reader, Sigma x Gn!reader, Akutagawa Ryuunoske x gn!reader

More so with a reader who is good at insulting, back talking ect.

Trigger warnings: insults, cursing, a guy trying to hit on/harras reader but they pop and lock (girlboss besties), mentions of su!cide (on Dazais part, jealousy, mentions of alcohol and clubs/bars, slander, ooc, Let Me know if I missed anything

Chuuya Nakahara

°HE FUCKING ADORES HOW SASSY YOU ARE!!

°he wouldn't admit it but finds it so attractive and straight up admires you when you put someone in their place and or stand up for yourself

°would definitely praise you for it

°if he wasn't as prideful as he is mf would straight up be on his knees worshiping you and your words of degrading

°if y'all ever argued it'd just be you being your sassy ass self and him being like 🤨🙄😃😧😰 (progressively regretting his decisions)

Let's set the scene first shall we? You and Chuuya were currently in a club/bar. You were just engaging in a casual conversation with your boyfriend sipping on your alcoholic beverage of choice (or literally anything if you don't drink). You were having a swell time just enjoying that Chuuya finally had some free time from work, that is until this man came up to you, he wasn't necessarily bad looking, but he was very average and basic to say the least. Chuuya glanced at the male but not speaking anything of it.

"hey, cutie~ how about I show you a fun time, just you, and me alone in bed~

You didn't even spare him a glance, replying bluntly and shortly

"fuck off, im not interested"

The man looked at you with a smirk, totally ignoring Chuuyas presence. Nakahara felt disappointed, disgusted even by the mere nerve that guy had, but sighed and continued to sip on his wine

"a little bit of attitude I see, that's such a turn on baby.."

It was quite clear the individual was intoxicated, you finally glanced at him with a sigh

"shame your such a turn off, with that cheap ass target shirt" (I love target don't come for me😭😭

The male got rather angered by how you spoke to him and were barely even batting an eye at him. Chuuya was grinning just watching the interaction watching you insult this lowlife with no mercy

"aw, come on.. Don't be like that, let me give you a fun experience and a night to remember"

"a night to remember is when you'll fuck yourself on a chainsaw you pathetic lowlife, get your horny ass together, get a proper job, focus on yourself and be respectful that way you might actually get some bitches in your life"

To say the least, the man wasn't too happy, his hand snaking around your waist, your natural instinct of self defence kicking in as you kick him in the shin

"what was that for you bitch?!"

He asked, seeming pissed of at you, at this point Chuuya has had enough and stood up, standing between you and the guy

"can you piss off? They're not interested nor available, jackass"

The fucker simply ignored Chuuya and tried again

At that point Chuuya got fed up with him, slapping him and leaving the place. As soon as you two got home he was by your side making sure you're alright <3

Dazai Osamu

°he lives for your sassiness

°imagine if you both work at the detective agency and Kunikida is scolding him and then you just back talk, not even bothering to look at them

°motherfucker Was like awooga awooga let me rearrange your insides babygirl😻😻

°definetly finds that really fucking attractive

°will proudly stand right beside you like "yes. That's my s/o. Yes, they're a bitch, and I love them"

You and Osamu were currently in the agency office, you were filling in some papers, whilst Dazai was getting scolded by Kunikida like most days. You weren't paying much attention to why he was getting told off, but you assumed it was because of one of his daily shenanigans, like jumping into a river mid mission, or giving Kunikida fake facts and or advice causing pages from Kunikidas notebook being ripped or scratched out by the ink. After a few more scolding words from Kunikida, you're boyfriend went behind you, hiding behind your office chair, you hummed a little "Hm?" as Dazai proceeded to explain that Kunikidas scolding is pointless cause he hasn't done anything wrong, however most of it was muffled due to Kunikidas continued scolding over the desk, it was insufferable to hear as you turned to Kunikida

"can you respectfully shut up?"

Kunikida just looked at you completely surprised, Dazai on the other hand had a grin, falling on his knees in an almost comedic manner before you asking when it's his time to hear such degrading words from you

Nikolai Gogol

°does his silly goofy little grins

°pulls pranks on Decay members and uses you to do all the "explaining"

°annoys you as much as possible using his ability just to see you get all sassy

You were currently laying on the couch, in the living room, it was pretty early in the morning and you haven't ate breakfast yet. You were home alone, your partner doing god knows what, and you preferred to not know. You stood up from the couch to go make yourself some breakfast, you were in the mood for something sweet, so you decided on pancakes, grabbing butter to melt on the pan later, milk, flour, sugar, and.. You just looked at the content of the fridge, confused why it lacked the eggs, you could've sworn there was at least half a carton left yesterday, you sighed realising you either have to go to the store or just make something else, you sighed softly once more looking into the fridge, grabbing some jam, putting the flour and sugar back, before sliding a bit on your socks to put the milk and butter back in the fridge, just looking even more confused due to the eggs suddenly appearing, realising it was probably the jester playing tricks on you, grabbing the eggs quite quickly so they don't dissappear once more. You placed all the ingredients on the counter once more, beginning to make the batter, you were about to pour the batter on the pan, before noticing a small yellow portal, taking the pan in with a red gloved hand, sighing once more you said a little.

"I'll chop your dick off and dismember your head with that pan if you don't give it back"

Nikolai poked his head out a bit with a smug grin, holding the pan up, by the center but instead of the handle, causing him to burn his hand and getting a bit of the melted butter on his palm, dropping the pan onto the floor with a loud sound of metal hitting something. Although the sound wasn't pleasant at all you got to laugh at your boyfriend for being a little stupid fucking idiot

Fyodor Dostoyevski

°THIS FUCKER IS SO SMUG ABOUT IT

°if you ever Insult Dazai he'll give you like 5 countries

°if he truly loves you that is

°if not he'll Stil probably find it amusing, you might even get a little giggle out of him

°would definetly be sassy towards you as well

Fyodor was currently in his office (discord mod cave) , eyeing like 5 fucking monitors at the same time.

"Fedya, come out of your rat infested room already"

You said a bit irritated by the fact he's been there for like a week, not even bothering to come out for basic necessities, at this point you were even wondering where the hell he pisses— not important. It seems he has ignored you calling out for him. You opened the door, you wanted to ruffle his hair but just looked at that and almost gagged

"you look like an oiled up pan.. You better fucking wash that, I doubt even lice would want to be there"

And after saying that you left the room, leaving a confused Fyodor, who just sat there processing what the fuck you just said

Sigma

°okay Mr 3-4x bullcut would be nervous asf

°like he's scared you'll end up in a fight from the way you talk with others

°finds it humouring if you insult Gogol though

°would love hearing you insult everyone, in private

You were standing next to a machine in the casino, leaning your side against it until a fairly attractive female came up to you

"are you going to keep standing here and hogging the machine so no one can use it? Or will you move your damn self some where else?"

You were a bit stunned by the sudden hostility but slightly impressed and even amused

"i know damn Well your not talking to me with that 3$ wig your wearing right now, and don't even get me started on those earrings and necklace your wearing, like girl, did you grab those of a Christmas tree?"

The girl turned around on her heel, a few minutes later the number you had got called into the managers office. You walk in to notice Sigma trying to look stoic and not at all nervous, making you snicker a bit. Sigma turned to the woman and told her she's free to leave and he'll take it from here, the girl gave you a smirk as she left as if she just won millions, making you almost choke trying not to laugh

"dear.. Please stop being rude to my clients—"

"well your clients are bitches"

The discussion continued for a bit ending in you nuzzling your head against Sigmas neck as he continued to do his paperwork.

Akutagawa Ryuunoske

°this man is as sassy as you like oml

°don't say anything about Dazai, Gin or Chuuya though, or just people he generally respects

°feel free to talk as much shit as you want about Atsushi though

°if you ever tell Higuchi off he'll find it very amusing

°y'all definetly try to out sass each other

You and Aku were currently laying in bed, you were talking about someone at your work place that has been annoying you lately. You were insulting them freely, not bothered by the fact Akutagawa was trying to fall asleep, not until he told you to shut up, which ended in endless sassy comments going back and forth between the two of you as well as you a bit curled over in laughter and Akutagawa trying to hold back a snicker

I nnot proud of this but spent too much fucking time writing this and didn't even finish 💀💀

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Bonds That Break Us (Rhysand x Female! Reader) Part 2

Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4, Part 5 , Part 6, Final Part

Request: "Would you do a Rhysand x fem!reader series? Maybe fem!reader is Rhysand's mate and Tamlin's sister? So secret love?"

AN: omg guys the love part 1 received has been so amazing. I seriously am so happy you're all loving this fic as much as me. As someone who hasn't written in so long it's been so fufilling to write this. Thank you for all the kind words. Please feel free to leave a comment! Hearing your guy's feedback is what motivates me to write!

Summary: It was almost as if the cauldron liked to play games, as if it had sensed years of boredom and predictability and begged to be entertained. Its method of absolving its melancholy? Mate the High Lord of the Night Court to the younger sister of the High Lord of Spring. 

Warnings (so far): SA, starting to get a little steamy

Word count: 2704

(all photos are from pinterest)

The next morning I woke with a certain lightness to my step that I knew shouldn’t be there. My hands skimmed over the countless dresses looking for just the right one. All of the sudden I had started caring more about my appearance for council meetings. Deep down I know why. 

I meet my brother and Lucien in the foyer per usual, and I feel Lucien’s fiery gaze rake over the lavender chiffon draped over my body. I told myself that I had selected the revealing dress because of how hot the Day court was, but I think I had other motives backing my choice. 

The Day Court, like all other courts, was utterly beautiful. Large pillars stood all around and like the summer court it was entirely open air, allowing the sunlight and breeze to float into the room. I sit between Lucien and Tamlin at a large table with the other High Lord’s and nobility. My eyes scan the room for a hint of that violet that I dreamt about last night but I don’t find it. It isn’t until a few minutes later, when my skin starts buzzing, that the High Lord of Night steps into the room. His presence commending, his eyes immediately finding mine. 

I feel him pluck at the bond as if to say hello. After speaking to him through my mind for so long it was almost strange to see him in real life. Somehow he was always much more handsome in person. Like no matter how many times I tried to put together the image of his face at night it never compares to the sheer glory and presence of him. 

As Helion began speaking a voice crawled into my head. 

I’m glad you find me so glorious, darling.

“Shh you nosey High Lord. I’m trying to listen,” I silence him and to my  surprise he obliges.  

Helion talks on and on and of course there is arguing between Kallias and Beron as there usually is but I couldn’t begin to tell you what about. I spend the entire meeting noticing every move the High Lord of Night made. When he breathed, or flexed his hands, adjusted his spot on his seat. Whenever I felt his eyes sliding over to me I would do my best to evade them. 

See something you like? I look over to him and find his eyes smirking. 

“Yeah actually, Eris is looking especially delicious today,” I tease, I don’t break eye contact with him. 

He chuckles brushing off my comment. You’re a vision in purple mate, but if Lucien looks at your cleavage one more time I might just leap across the table and rip his only good eye out. 

“So violent,” I muse disapprovingly, looking towards where Kallias is speaking about potential war with Hybern.

I save my most brutal acts of violence for those who seek to harm you darling. My eyes flit back at him and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he averts his gaze back to Kallias. 

“Enough talk of war my friends, let us adjourn this meeting until next week.” Helion finally says, causing the rest of the council to let out a breath. 

Tamlin doesn’t say a word before he and Lucien stand and make a beeline to Tarquin, most likely to talk about problems we’ve been having on the border. I take it as my queue to walk around the Day Court’s terrace and I secretly hope that a certain High Lord follows me. 

The Day Court and the Summer Court are like twin sisters. Except the Day Court always felt like liquid gold. All around me I could see clouds and honeyed sunlight peeking through the them. The rays warmed my skin as I basked in them, leaning against one of the many large pillars. 

“I knew you’d look amazing in this light,” drawled that voice I had secretly wanted to hear. 

I glance over to find The High Lord admiring me, the light of the Day Court doing wonders for him as well. “You shouldn’t be here,” I say, trying to act like I mean it. 

“Yet you wanted me to follow you,” he smirks knowingly, slowly stepping towards me. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“This,” he says, pulling on the bond again. I take a sharp breath in and he chuckles. “I’ll never get tired of that reaction.”

“I really hate it when you do that,” I grumble. 

“No you don’t,” he muses using one arm to cage me into the pillar I’m leaning against. 

“Yes I do,” I affirm. His other hand lifts my chin to meet his stare. 

“No you don’t, you don’t hate anything about me. In fact you think I’m beautiful,” he smirks, somehow stepping even closer to me. “And, you want me to touch you right now, your skin is practically on fire for it.” 

“My Lord-” 

“I told you to call me Rhysand,” he cuts me off. I want to lie and tell him no, I want to push him away but I fear that even the action of me touching his chest, even for a moment, would be too much for me to bear. 

“Rhys,” I breathe out. Before I can even think his lips are on mine swallowing the breath that held his name, just like he promised.  

The kiss is hot and needy, built up from the last two weeks of torture. One of his hands finds my face while the other finds my waist. His frame presses me into the pillar behind me. I feel my body ignite in a way I didn’t know possible, I need him closer. I pull on the lapels of his jacket earning a low grumble from him. 

“Say it again,” he says between kisses. 

“Rhysand,” I moan, his name like a prayer on my lips. 

“Fuck,” he groans before sliding a hand down under my knee and hoisting it up to wrap around his waist. The slit in my dress parted for him, giving him full access to my bare leg. I feel his lips drag across my neck leaving opened mouth kisses on me. I practically come undone for him, the only thing keeping me upright are his hands and the pillar behind me. 

In the distance I can hear footsteps clicking across the floor, in a panic I winnow both of us further away. He breaks apart the kiss and gives me a bewildered look. 

“Sorry, someone was coming,” I say breathlessly. 

“Let them see,” he grins before stepping closer to me. I take a step back and he halts his movements, surprised. 

“We can’t, my brother will kill me, kill you.” I remind him. 

He lets out a chuckle like he’s completely unphased, “I promise you that I hold more power in my pinky than Tamilin does in his entire body.”  he boasts. 

“Still,” I start. “You’re the High Lord of the Night Court, his sworn enemy, my court's sworn enemy. Think of what they would say about me if the truth came out. What they would say about you. You’d be the monster who stole away the princess of spring.” I ramble. 

“I’ve been called a monster by those who know nothing but stories of me my whole life, what’s one more?” he states. 

“I’ve heard stories of your court, that it’s the part of Prythian where the most feared monsters and beings of our kind reside,” I say fearfully. I start to remember who he is. Not just a pretty face, but the High Lord of the Night Court. He’s dangerous, and he is a monster. 

“Part of that is true,” he affirms, and I can see a tinge of hurt in his eyes. 

“And the other part?” I ask on bated breath. 

“You’ll see soon enough mate,” he says. 

“My Lord we cannot be together,” I state firmly. 

“Back to formalities now are we?” he sighs. “I’ve waited 500 years to find my mate y/n, don’t think for one second that I’m going to stay away from you just because you’re afraid of that pathetic excuse for a brother.” 

“He’s not pathetic, he loves me!” I growl. 

“You don’t know half the things you think you do about your brother,” he sneered. 

As much as I hated to admit it he was right. Tamlin and I had never truly been close. We hardly ever did anything together. I always sensed a darkness in him that I couldn’t place. There was so much he simply refused to tell me just because I was a woman. But I couldn't bear that truth to Rhys, not when I needed his silence. 

“This conversation is over,” I huff before walking away, I feel him grasp my arm. 

“No darling it’s not,” Rhys says with frustration in his eyes. 

“Wanna bet?” I ask smugly before winnowing back to the Spring Court. 

The next few days I don’t hear from Rhysand, and I don’t feel a tug on the bond. All of the sudden my life is filled with a sense of melancholy, I never had before. I had grown so used to his constant tugging on the bond or his remarks throughout my daily life that I felt a little empty without him.  

So empty that I now found myself nudging around the food on my plate at dinner. Lucien had been out with the emissary of the Summer Court fixing the problems on the border, which meant it was just me and Tamlin. 

We spend the whole meal in silence until he finally breaks it, “I have something I want to discuss with you,” he says, placing his napkin down on the table. 

“What is it?” I ask, starting to wonder if maybe he saw me and Rhysand the other day. 

“I’ve been talking with Beron Vanserra, and it seems that his eldest son Eris has taken a liking to you. We think it might be in the best interest of our two courts if you two were to marry.” he says casually, as if the words weren’t a huge punch to the gut. 

“What?” I breathe in disbelief. 

“Come on y/n this has always been our plan, to get you an advantageous marriage.” he reminds me, irritation laced in his voice. 

“Not my plan Tamlin, yours.” I seethe. “Eris is a viper, I won’t marry him.” 

“You’ll do as you're told and that’s final!” he screams slamming his fists down on the table making the silverware rattle. 

I leave my plate full of food on the table and get up. If I wasn’t hungry before I certainly am not now. I leave the dining room and make sure to slam the door on my way out. The halls of the palace were dark save for the moonlight drifting through the windows. My mind was a mess of Tamlin’s words, I was so angry I could hardly think beyond it. At the end of the hall there was a door and even from where I was I could see the doorknob turning. A head of red hair popped through the door and Lucien stumbled to close it.

 I kept my head down trying to avoid him but it was no use. The second he passed me his hands were on me shoving me into the nearest wall. 

“Hello my flower,” he slurred. 

“You’re drunk Lucien,” I pointed out, jerking my head away. 

“Yes I suppose I am, the emissary for the summer court knows how to celebrate. We went to a tavern after completing the job on the border to indulge in some women and maybe a few drinks,” he chuckled. 

“Yeah a few hundred drinks you fucking idiot,” I gripe trying to get out of his grasp but his hands only pin my wrists tighter.

“It was fun, but being around all those women made me long for my little flower,” he smiled drunkenly before kissing my neck. 

For months now he’s been doing this, stealing touches whenever he could, and kissing my neck like this when he was feeling really bold, or in this case, drunk. He never took it further than that though. Never kissing, never fully fucking me, and I think it’s because he knew that it would be where Tamilin drew the line. But tonight he was drunk, in a way I had never seen him before, and I wasn’t sure if the line that had held for so many months would be held now. 

“Get the fuck off me Lucien,” I growl trying to push him off again. 

He completely ignores me, “You know my dear I’ve let my hands wander every expanse of this magnificent body, but I have yet to taste you,” he says lowly. “I think I’m going to change that.” 

I don’t even get a chance to try and fight before his lips are on mine. He tastes like shitty whiskey and he smells like cheap perfume. It’s vile and it has me sick to my stomach. I find my opening to rip my lips off him and take it. 

“Lucien what the fuck!” I scream in his face. His eyes just go down to my heaving chest, where my breasts are pushed up high due to my corset. 

“And these,” he drawls before placing open mouth kisses on the peaks of my breasts. His hand lets go of my wrist and flies to my waist to pull me closer to him and I take the change of position as an opportunity to knee him between his legs. 

His knees hit the ground and I run down the hall towards my room. I slam and lock the door as fast as possible, barricading myself in with a chair. I pace back and forth trying to dispel the pent up adrenaline that’s inside of me but in the end I sink to my knees and start to cry. 

What happened?

That calming voice cleaves its way through my mind and it feels like a huge weight off my chest has been lifted. 

“It was Lucien he tried to…” I let my voice trail off not even wanting to finish the sentence. I know the High Lord of Night is at the complete other end of Prythian but I swear I feel the ground beneath me tremble. 

Did he? He asks, like he would winnow here right now and make due on his promise of ripping out his good eye. 

“No, I fought him off,” I assure him.

Are you safe? 

“As safe as I can be, I barricaded the door,”  I say, as my heart rate calms down. 

You shouldn’t have to live in a place where you have to barricade yourself in your room.

“Well I do so I’m handling it the best I can,” I gripe at him. I would gladly change the situation if I could but I can’t. There's a silence and I can feel him ruminating over my words as I crawl into bed. 

I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said it like that. 

“It’s okay I understood what you meant,” I say pulling the covers up to my chin like they might protect me. 

And I’m sorry for what I said about Tamlin. I shouldn’t have gotten angry with you, he’s your brother, of course you’re going to defend him.

“It’s okay, maybe everything you said about Tamlin wasn’t entirely false,” I confess remembering the conversation that had me fleeing the dining room in the first place. 

What happened? 

A moment passes and I think about telling him. But saying it almost makes it real and I choose not to, “I’d rather not talk about it now. Too much has happened tonight,” I say

Alright we won’t then. I sense disappointment in his voice but I am happy that he respects my wishes. 

“Rhys?”I ask, and there’s a hesitation there. 

Yes darling? He purrs and I can hear him practically swooning at the fact that I said his name.

“I don’t wanna be alone, will you stay up with me?” I confess feeling like I’m baring my soul. 

Of course I will darling, all night if you want me to.

Taglist: @heyyitsnat21 , @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson , @randomperson1234sblog , @local-fangirl09 , @bleh-81 , @annaaaaa88

(I've never made a taglist so hopefully this works)

[gghostwriter]

Poison Me, I’m Fine

Spencer Reid x Songwriter!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your choice of poison was Spencer Reid. Who knew he would kill you and set you free in the process

Warning: angst with no happy ending

A/n: I feel insane for writing this in one sitting and not editing it. There's no part 2 for this, I just wanted to purge myself of this angst plot that took over me. This is probably the closest I could write to a singer-songwriter reader x spencer, granted she just writes for other pop stars (maybe I'll write some popstar!reader next time idk yet.) Also, 'Free Now by Gracie Abrams' and 'The Black Dog by Taylor Swift' was on repeat when I wrote this so you can spot some inspiration from both here. Hope you like it!

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You don’t know why you settled for less. Why you opted to walk on a blurry tight rope, why you chose a crumbling place to land on, and why you chose to enter a situationship that will end in heartbreak. Actually, scratch that, you do know why. Spencer Reid, that was enough reason for you to put yourself on the line. Or it was until your treacherous, greedy heart wanted more. 

Does she follow like an echo? Like your shadow, you can try, but you can't run

It started with hushed whispers. Your mind slowly poisoning itself with what ifs and scenarios where he was fully yours, just like how he unknowingly owned you—mind, body, and soul. Whispers of—wouldn’t it be nice to visit this museum again with Spencer or he’d love this newly opened vintage bookstore around the block or it’d be nice to see the stars with him right now. You tried to cleanse those thoughts away but that’s the thing, poison that has entered your bloodstream is hard to remove. 

It's a pain that I caught you at a bad time It's a shame that I memorized your outline

It morphed to vivid imagery next—hallucinations so life-like that you found yourself believing it half of the time. Portraits of him and you holding hands as you both walked down the streets, phantom outlines of you together swaying close to muted music, and shadows of you and him twisting in bedsheets. All untrue, except for the latter. You attempt to blink them all away with no success. Your heart reluctant to part with the delusion than face the truth—that he had only offered you his body and nothing else.

Every page that I wrote, you were on it Feel you deep in my bones, you're the current

It seeped out of you next—to your writings, to your works as if your body was doing its best to reject the poison away. To save itself from the nearing death that seemed inevitable in the end. Your poetry, your lyrics, and your art all contain entangled webs of metaphors and colors that lead back to him. Purple streaks on your canvas to represent his favorite, his beloved authors mentioned in your verses, and symbolisms of his career scattered all over—cuffs, guns, shot and everything in between. You tried to pour it all out of you, the dark and sticky emotion of despair and longing covering you and all extensions of you. Everyone noticed the change. The dimming of lights in your eyes and the shadows that threaten to swallow you whole. Everyone noticed—your family, friends, colleagues, and even the pop stars that buy your singles. Everyone except for the one that could save you, Spencer. 

It turned into screams next. It was as if your body gathered all its remaining strength to shout for help or to howl in pain, you’re not sure really. All you’re sure of was that the end was near. The end was coming to free you from everything—from him. The trigger was overhearing him discuss you with his friend and male co-worker during a run-in in his apartment where he had no choice but to introduce you. Six months of pseudo dating him and no one knew you existed.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, wanting to escape the tension emitting from the situation and when you came back, that’s when you heard it. The lethal blow to your already dying heart.

“She seems nice,” his friend, Morgan, commented.

Spencer shrugged. “She’s no Maeve—not as deep but she’s—she’s safe.”

You bit your lip, trying to stop it from quivering lest you whimper out loud the pain his words has caused you.

Donning on a fake smile on your face, you watched as Morgan left with a wave goodbye to you and a casual ‘see you again.’ Not like that would ever come true.

Within seconds, you felt your mask cracking as tears slowly trickled down your face.

“I love you.”

They say the truth sets us free but not this truth. All it did was crash, burn, and pulverize your already precarious stacks of sticks that represent you and him. 

Silence.

“You know, when we first started this—whatever this is—I promised to myself that I wouldn’t fall for you. That this was purely physical, sex,” you sardonically laughed. “But you know what I realized, that you were easy to fall in love with. So easy that I found myself ruined even before I could comprehend where and when it happened.”

“We agreed, didn’t we? That we would tell the truth and stop when feelings are starting to get involved. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You roughly swiped away the tears. “I didn’t know when it happened, Spencer! I thought if I stuck it out long enough, you’d feel something for me too! But that was foolish of me to believe. I see it now.” 

“See what?” 

You walked towards him, invading his personal space. The same way he did with yours. “That you’re not ready. Honestly I’d prefer if my opponent was standing in front of me. At least I could gauge if I had the chance to win. But with her, she’s gone, Spencer—” you jabbed your pointy finger on his chest, where his heart was. “I’m fighting with a ghost who I can’t even land a hit on. A ghost who haunts your every waking and dreaming moment. Tell me, Spencer, how do I compete with that—when I feel there’s little to no space for me. I exist only in between and in your limbo when you’re craving for a physical companion. How do I win, Spencer? Tell me or should I just throw in the towel?” 

“Y/N—”

His eyes contained the answer and although it wasn’t what you were wishing for, it was what you subconsciously knew you needed to free you. 

You nodded your head. “I guess—I guess this is it, huh. End of the line for us.” 

“I guess so.” 

You gathered your coat, haphazardly strewn on the floor—just like the pieces of your shattered heart and as you stepped out of his threshold, you gave yourself one last chance to memorize his outlines.

“Goodbye, Spencer.” 

And finally, the poison had killed you and had set you free. 

If you feel like fallin', catch me on the way down Never been less empty, all I feel is free now

[peterparkersnose]

Feeling You

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: david’s episode and themes along with that, reader is chained up, david is literally creepy and disgusting, reader kills a person, description of death, angst, joel cannot physically feel anything, trauma description, ellie’s aftermath of david, religious trauma, mentions of weapons

a/n hi season finale my life is over at least we got mando still 💪

summary Y/N confesses something to Joel she shouldn’t have when she saw him awake for the first time in weeks after his accident

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read time: 13 mins 10 seconds

The feeling of panic woke you up. The strange dream you couldn’t remember faded as your senses came back to you. It was cold and your head was pounding. The cold air nipped your nose. Your clothes felt like there was space between the fabric and your skin, you could feel the stinging cold prick your skin. You lay flat on what you could only imagine was a bed. It wasn’t comfortable whatsoever and only made your back stiff. Joel’s flannel from the night before had kept you warm enough to survive. Gaining the muster to move, you tried to yank your feet on the floor. Your right leg was cuffed to the bed pole.

“She’s awake,” you heard someone call, and commotion started around you. Blinking your eyes and trying to adjust to what was happening, the noise of a padlock being opened distracted you. “Good morning,”

You recognized that voice. The man that you and Ellie encountered in the woods. What was his name…David? How did you even get here?

“I’m glad to see your up.”

You scuffled on your hands, propping yourself up in bed. “Where is she?” you shivered, moving your free leg up to your chest. The only other thought that consumed your brain was the little girl you were protecting.

“You must be cold. Here,” David said, snapping his fingers. One of his friends fed a blanket through the bars that were currently entrapping you. He draped the blanket over you. You hated it, but had no choice but to accept it.

“Where is she?” you reiterated. “She’s fine.” David ensured to you. “All comfy like you.”

“This is far from comfortable.” you hissed at him. “Just, tell me a few things and I can make you feel real comfortable.” David said. His tone made your stomach drop.

“Where is he?” David asked, mimicking your insistent question.

You knew he meant Joel. That’s all they wanted. Joel. You and Ellie were just the sad accessories that came along with him. “With the rest of the group.” you lied. David sucked his teeth. “Tell the truth,” he said, standing up over you. Scooting over in the small bed, you tried to put as much distance between you and the man.

“God doesn’t look down well on liars,”

‘What a freak’ you thought to yourself. You remembered reading old stories about cults that mimicked his teachings, or what he had preached at you the night he found you and Ellie.

“What kind of god makes our world a living hell?” you taunted. “Why would you believe in some shit cause? Have you seen what is out there?”

A subtle but dark smile came to David’s face. He brought up his hand and promptly slapped you on the cheek. Hard. The all too familiar needle like feeling seeped in on your cheek. The taste of blood slowly began to form in your mouth.

“We all need a father. We all need some guidance.” David said, bringing his hand up to your face again. You winced, hoping he wouldn’t strike you again. Instead, his fingers grabbed your chin. “There’s always time to repent,”

He inspected your face, forcing it to turn in whichever angle he would like. Blood filled your gums and began to dribble down your face as he squeezed your cheeks together. “Such a pretty thing,” he sighed. You spat in his face. He sighed and wiped the blood and spit mixture from his forehead with his sleeve.

He let go and stepped back. “I see your confidence, I see your leadership, I see myself in you.” he explained, taking another step back. “We could lead, you know. Bring greatness to this group. I could give you a future. A future with me.”

A new kind of fear began as you slowly began to realize what he truly wanted from you. The only thing you were good for in his eyes, maybe besides your flesh. His eyes seemed to undress you under the few layers of clothes you had on. They had taken your coat the previous night and you were left in your jeans and one of Joel’s flannels you stole from his pack to stay warm.

“Just give him up and I’ll give you the world.”

You sat silently. It was obvious that David was getting annoyed. “He’s just your old dad. It’s probably better if my guys get to him before the-”

“He’s not my dad.” you said harshly. “Well,” David laughed. “My apologies.”

He dragged the stool from the corner of the cell to the side of the bed. He straddled the stool and got a little too close for comfort. “Is he her dad?” he asked. You shook your head no. “Uncle, brother, cousin…? I’m trying to understand the relationship so I don’t hurt the little girl too much.”

You looked away and focused on the painted white brick wall. He was searching for leverage, an advantage you were not about to give him. The breathing exercises were not working when you could smell David’s rancid breath on you. “Oh,” he said with a smirk. “I get it.”

“Your with him.”

Closing your eyes, you moved your hand over your face. “Aren’t you a little young for such an old geezer?” he asked. You shook your head no. What a fucking narcissist. This man had to be Joel’s age, and from the looks of how much hair he had left I would say, maybe, older.

The age gap was the one thing keeping you from going the extra step and pursuing Joel. The mutual attraction had been present for a while, but you both were too afraid to face the facts. And now that he was as good as dead, the mere thought of what could have been stung harder than it should have.

“If your not gonna talk, then I’m just going to move to your little friend.” David sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get what he wanted out of you without some sort of leverage. His original plan hadn’t worked.

“No,” you called out, wanting to swallow your words back down. David’s back turned around again. “Then tell me pretty girl,” he said, each step echoing in the jail cell as he got closer to you. “Are you fucking him?” he asked, his nose almost touching yours. With lips pursed and your eyes tightly closed, you shook your head no. Your face rose with heat at the mere implication. 

“Liar.” he spit at you. He left you once again and sat outside your cage with his friends.

You began to doze off. Caged to the bed like a dog and freezing wasn’t the best headspace to stay in. You tried to imagine the penicillin Ellie came back with had some sort of super power and resurrected Joel so he could come kill this red headed motherfucker that wouldn’t stop staring you down. So that he could rescue you and Ellie and you could return to Jackson to get proper treatment and then take Ellie to the lab that was supposedly in Salt Lake City. So Joel could return to you and just be there and be alive. You missed Joel endlessly, even though you were just with him hours prior. And the last time you saw him, he was as good as gone.

As you were dreaming about the unlikely future, the men began to stir. One left, and another followed. There was muffled arguing down the hallway. David was getting angry about all the commotion and went to see what was happening.

“She what?” you heard him yell down the hall. “You mean to tell me she’s escaped?”

Your lungs caught your breath too hard when you heard him say that. She’s escaped? Ellie?

“Watch her.” David commanded, poking his head in the room and yelling at a man who you believed to be named James. He sat down in David’s stool and stared at you. You slowly began to get up, your leg chain dangling off the bed. James didn't say a word. 

Suddenly, two gunshots rang out. You grabbed for the white painted bars blocking you from leaving, and tripping on your leg chain. “No!” you screamed, pulling yourself back up. “No,” you said quieter, the reality of Ellie’s death started to become a little too real for your comfort. 

James had arisen, his hand rested on his gun in it’s holster as he anxiously stared at the door. He took a step back, contemplating what he was going to do. His back was turned to you. Another shot rang out, and James jumped backwards. In the hassle, the keychain holding your key to freedom was conveniently sticking out of his back pocket and was accessible to you. Without hesitation, you grabbed the keys and along fell out his knife. 

James was quick to react, grabbing your hand with the keys interlocked in your fingers. He grunted as your other hand met the set of keys and started to pry his cold, lanky fingers off the keys. James was hesitant to drop his gun, it would have been in reach for you. He was clueless that his knife was in reach where he couldn't see. 

“Fine,” he said, giving up. He let go and let you have the keys. “The second you try anything…” 

He looked over at his gun. He was still level with you on the ground. Sliding the keys behind you, you quickly grabbed the knife from behind him. Panic flashed in his eyes as you grabbed his neck and swiftly impaled his neck with the knife. He began to choke, and you pushed it in once again. His gun fell from his hand as he uselessly pawed at his neck. 

After a few tries with the various keys, you finally unlocked your leg from the chain that had been wrapped around your ankle all night. Quickly, you escaped your jail cell. You grabbed James’s knife from his neck and wiped it off on your jeans. Also, you stole his gun. 

You were shaking. Freezing and adrenaline wasn't the best combination at the moment. You were unsure of where to go. Where was Ellie? Where would Ellie go? You were all she had left. The cold hallway with a door with light pouring out under it seemed like the smart choice. 

When you opened the door, you were hit like a brick wall with a gust of wind blowing snow in your direction. Your arm immediately came to cover your eyes as you hastily made your way through the snow cloud. Just as it was about to clear, two arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you out in to the open. 

After grunting and fighting what you prayed wasn’t David or one of his associates, your hands were held behind your back tightly. Screaming and wriggling, you couldn’t hear the voice of your new partner in crime trying to calm you. 

“Y/N!” you finally heard. The haze around you seemed to settle. “Hey! It’s me,” 

You opened your eyes from the struggle and thought you were hallucinating from the evident dehydration and starvation. His hands now rested on your shoulders as he looked at you with the first inkling of real fear you had ever seen behind his eyes. 

“Are you alright?” Joel asked in a gutted tone, staring at the formation of a red handprint on your face. The fear turned into rage behind his eyes. All you could do was stare in to his face and enjoy the safe feeling once again. An unintentional sob came from you. Joel quickly embraced you. 

His hand shook as he cradled your head in his hand. “I got you,” he whispered, holding your body tight against his. “T-they still have her.” you whispered in his ear. 

Joel’s body stiffened. 

“Where?” he asked, letting you go. He reached for his coat, sliding it off his arms. “I don’t know I was trying to find her and—”

Joel noticed your hands and grabbed for them. They were covered in fresh blood. “Fuck,” he whimpered. “Go find her.” you said, pulling your hands away from his. “But—”

“Go,” you trembled. 

Joel’s longing look was one you were never going to forget. He saw the gun tucked in your pants and gave you a nod. “Hide,” he said in a hushed voice. 

As he was about to leave, you called out his name. He turned to you with a hurtful sigh. He was limping. Swallowing, you spit out the words to the man you had fallen for across this journey across the country. “I love you,” 

He was taken aback. It was definitely sudden and unexpected. His lips parted slightly in shock. Joel’s need to protect Ellie was strong at the moment. He didn’t have time to give in to these childish antics at the moment.

“I…”

His feelings for you wanted to stay, but his duty to Ellie, his duty to Sarah was more important than a silly crush on a silly girl. This whole time he thought he was just being delusional. All the little things, little moments the two of you shared he thought was just out of pure alliance and survival. 

Nausea filled you as you as you realized he had to go. He wasn’t going to say it back; from everything you knew about Joel Miller, you should have expected this exact reaction. He was unable to love, unable to just say it back to someone who was significantly younger than him and was a stranger just six months ago. Joel would regret this moment for the rest of his life. He stared at you in disbelief, unsure of what to do. He watched as your lips pursed and your hands wrap around your stomach, trying to keep yourself warm. 

“I’m sorry.” he muttered, turning away from you. 

You watched as you zipped his coat up as another gust of wind threw snow around the open space and he was gone.

Quickly, your eyes darted for a hiding spot. The survival instinct came in and tried its best to shut out the hurt you had just caused yourself. An old heat radiator stood a few feet to your left, in the direction Joel was. A produce crate covered in snow was another foot away and you picked it up, placing it next to the radiator. You sat on the freezing ground, clutching the gun and praying for something to go right today. 

A terrible scream erupted in the town’s square. You recognized that scream anywhere. Ellie, the little girl you had been with practically since her birth was in trouble. Your heart pounded in your chest as you jumped from your hiding space and ran towards the screaming. When you arrived, you stopped a few feet behind them. Joel was holding Ellie just as he was holding you moments before, moments before you had just fucked everything up. A lump rose in your throat as you feared the worst. 

“Ellie!” you yelled loudly and clear, catching the little girl’s attention. She looked up at you and wailed, her face was covered in blood. Almost falling on your knees mid run to her, she left Joel’s arms and collapsed in to yours. 

“Oh, baby.” you murmured, brushing her hair our of her face. She held on to you and sobbed in to your chest. You offered soft words of assurance, unaware of what monstrosities Ellie had just survived. Slowly rocking her back and forth, your hand intertwined with hers as you tried to calm her down. Brief words through the sobs Ellie let out broke your heart. 

“Y/N-” Joel said with a raspy voice. You shot him a look of hurt as you rested your chin on Ellie’s head. You slowly shook your head in disappointment. “It’s okay, Ellie.” you whispered in her ear. “Your safe now.”

“We really should go,” Joel urged, anxiously looking around. You closed your eyes, ignoring him. Ellie’s wails had subsided, but her grip on your waist hadn’t let up. 

“Let’s go,” you whispered to her, using the sleeves of Joel’s coat to wipe some of the blood off of her face. Joel was right. You all were heavily exposed at the moment. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

--

It was now night. The horse was gone, and Joel was barely able to keep upright for long. You had found a cave while trying to hunt down a rabbit. The three of you were going to rest there for the night. 

Ellie hadn’t left your side. Her hand was in yours as you made your way up the cold mountainside. Slowly, the three of you trudged upward. 

The rabbit you had caught for dinner was average. Joel was hurt, but still useful. He made a fire and helped Ellie get comfortable. She was in dire need for a good night of sleep. Hell, you all were in dire need for a good night of sleep. No words had been spoken between you and Joel since the small town. 

Ellie’s head rested in your lap. You sat against the wall of the cave and watched Ellie as she slowly took in breaths. Joel was fixated on the flames, making sure they were still roaring strong. 

“You should get some sleep,” Joel said, breaking the tension. You shrugged. “I-I can take first watch,” he offered. “No.” you said back bitterly. 

“Y/N,” Joel sighed, adjusting his tone to yours. “Are you going to be bitter the rest of this trip?” he asked bluntly. Your head snapped to look up at him. Joel raised an eyebrow. 

“I just need some time, Joel.” 

“Well, you kinda said it at the worst time possible.” he muttered, using the ground to stand up and fetch another log of wood for the fire. “Well,” you seethed. “I thought you were dead. When I saw you…I had to.” 

You sighed and closed your eyes as you heard him toss the wood on the fire. 

Joel’s shoulders slumped as he slid down back against the wall. “Yeah, I know.” he said heavily. “It’s just hard for me to hear things like that.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have been more… considerate.” you apologized, searching for the right word. Joel was right; wrong time and wrong place. Stretching your legs out towards the fire, Ellie stirred in her sleep. You and Joel stared at the girl, waiting for her to calm. Her grasp on your hand tightened, but she seemed to fall back into her hazy state.

“I failed her,” Joel said, a tinge of sadness backed up his tone. “Joel, no.” you sighed. “I-I should have been there. I should have been more careful and…”

His face scrunched as he placed his hand on his forehead, shielding his eyes. Was he… no. Was he?

Slowly, you moved Ellie off your lap. She let out a few grunts of protest, but you placed your backpack under her head. You scuffled next to Joel. He seemed to jump at your touch. “Joel,” you whispered, grabbing his hand in yours. Tears welled in his eyes. “I failed her Y/N.” 

The definition of her was falling on a fine line between Ellie and Sarah. 

“No you didn’t. You saved us, Joel. You saved her.” 

The two of you stared at Ellie. She was sound asleep. Ellie was now clean, you had helped her clean up in a freezing stream. It almost felt like a proud parent moment in some odd, fucked up way. The two of you staring at your miracle kid. She had survived and endured so much for her age. It was almost odd to see her resting so peacefully. The knowledge that the two of you got her there safely was enough to keep the hope flowing.

Your other hand fell over the one you had holding on to his, and your head rested on his shoulder. 

“I love that kid so fucking much,” Joel blurted out, his free hand moving to wipe a tear out of his face. “I know.” you said, feeling the emotions in you begin to rise. “I love her too,” you whispered, your eyebrows falling soft. Joel tried to keep it in, but a sudden gasp for air made it evident that he was crying. 

Sitting with him was the best thing you could do. Your hand rubbed over his knuckles that had healed from the events of leaving the Boston QZ. Slowly, testing your limits, your arm wrapped around his shoulders. He moved his head in to the nape of your neck and sighed. He was hiding behind you from his feelings and the world. You were his metaphorical escape. 

Joel’s mind wandered to all the previous moments the two of you had shared. Awkward, brief stares at each other in the Boston QZ periodically before you two actually knew each other. When you bandaged him up after a bullet graze. Your hands were so soft and you worked so carefully, making sure the process was as painless as you could make it. Or when you shared your last meal with him. You ripped the disgusting piece of jerky up and insisted he ate it. The two of you were sitting in what used to be a park and was watching Ellie play on the fragile equipment when it happened. One of the few moments she actually got to live like a kid. 

“Y/N?” Joel whispered in your ear. Turning to look at him, his eyes were red and puffy. “I do love you, you know.” 

A thin lipped smile rose to your face. You nodded. “I’m not very good at these kinds of things… I’m sorry.” he sighed.

You rejected his apology and rested your head back on his shoulder. “I know. Me too,” you managed to say, with a slight chuckle at the end. Your hand wrapping over his slowly turned in to his hand intertwining with yours. “We’ll get through this. Together.” you assured him. Joel nodded, leaning in to kiss you softly on the forehead. You felt a rush of happiness fill you at this small gesture. 

Joel was a hard man to crack, you had known that since the first day you met him. His stubbornness was relentless. This meant the world to you. 

Now as the two of you lay side by side, you felt him wrap his arms around you. Joel was so warm, it was comforting. He pulled you close, not caring what Ellie would think when she awoke. You both closed their eyes, praying this remote cave was safe enough to not stay up and watch for any danger. And it was. 

Joel was healing physically, but the shattered man inside began repairs as the night moved on. He knew he could do anything, feel anything, and try to be even an inkling of the man he used to be with you at his side.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy

[reputationgf]

summer went away, still the yearning stays.

kaz brekker x grisha.

genre - slight angst, fluff.

summary - Three years ago you were taken away from Kaz to Ravka to train as a Grisha, now you found your way back to him and he was your again, Kaz Rietveld was yours again.

word count - 2.3k

a/n : hi wow writing after a long time !! also the summary of this sucks lowkey but we roll <33 please reblog/comment it makes my day <33

leave reqs here !! (no promises tho)

The little palace never felt like home. Something about being considered superior and the ongoing talks about how being a grisha was a gift by the saints, one meant to be cherished made you irritated. Being a grisha was what took your real life away, took you away from a person you cared for the most, Kaz brekker.

Kaz brekker was known by many names be it the bastard of the barrel or dirtyhands but you never knew him as those, to you he simply was Kaz Rietveld, to you he would always be the boy who was caring and smart and broken. Life hadn't been kind to him and it probably still wasn't.

When you both were fourteen and were roaming around the streets of Ketterdam without a care in the world on your part, some grisha came and took both of you to be tested, Kaz wasn't one but you turned out to be, and then without a choice you were taken away from him to the little palace. You wished you had put up more of a fight, maybe even tried using whatever powers you had to free yourself, maybe then you'd still be in Ketterdam with the one you wanted.

But deep down you knew however hard you would've tried you wouldn't have been to run away. You missed everything about your old life even if it wasn't the most safe and comfortable, even if you weren't guaranteed a meal everyday, even if it meant living on the edge everyday cause it meant you could be with him.

You were now seventeen and you felt like you knew nothing except the fact that you missed him. And now you were amidst a war for a country you weren't sure you cared for but you still helped of course, you battled for Genya to receive her justice, you battled for the people who lost their lives due to General Kirigan being an abomination to the society and using people as pawns in his own twisted game.

"Zoya let me come with you to Shu Han." You spoke with eagerness in your voice.

Ever since knowing about the plan to hire the crows to retrieve the Neshyenyer from Shu Han you've been on your toes. This could be the one chance to see him before you possibly died. You weren't going to give up on that.

"Tolya is coming with me I've already told you this once before." Zoya said, Her voice was dripping with sternness, she didn't want any further arguments, "besides why do you even want to come with me?"

You glared at the woman in front of you, it felt as if the fire that normally blazed through your fingers was now in your eyes, "you know why." You said, your voice cold, your jaw clenched.

Zoya studied you, she saw the way your hands were in a tight fist and how your lips were in a thin line. She noticed the slight hitch in your breath and the way your eyebrows were scrunched, then she met your eyes. Your eyes were filled with a fire she had only seen once before when you had found out General Kirigan's reality.

"Fine. You can come with me," She said tilting her head slightly, "don't make me regret this." A smirk rested on Zoya's face.

"I won't. Thank you." You said and gave her a nod, going away to get ready for your travels to Ketterdam and then Shu Han.

Ketterdam. You had so many feelings about Ketterdam that it overwhelmed you. Was Ketterdam your home? Maybe it was cause he was there. Or was it your enemy, the place which broke and bruised you, which made you feel as if someone took a dagger and slowly ran it through your body, just enough to sting forever. Was it a place that placed an irreplaceable hurt in you or was it a place you longed to be in cause he was there. Sometimes you found yourself missing Ketterdam, or maybe you just missed Kaz. After all, it's always the people who make a place feel like home, a safe haven.

-

The whole ride to Ketterdam to you was completely utterly anxious. Your fingernails dug deep into your fist, your bottom lip so chewed out that you could now taste blood in your mouth. You had to remind yourself to breathe and your heart to beat. One of your hands reached the necklace that laid against your chest, your fingers softly gripping its pendant— a heart, engraved with flowers around the corners and a capital R in the middle. You had remembered the day Kaz had given it to you, it was your fourteenth birthday. He had nicked it from a pawn shop and hoped you'd like it. You remembered it as clear as day how he gave it to you, it was a memory that brought you peace, taught your heart how to beat again. You closed your eyes, releasing the tight grip of your fist and freeing your lips from your teeth. Taking a deep breath you lost yourself in the memory.

"hey," Kaz called out to you, your name leaving his lips, "come in"

You followed Kaz into his room and sat on the chair of his study, he opened his cupboard and removed a small circular velvet box. Your eyes curiously followed the box and him as he sat on the bed opposite to your chair, his hand still holding the box. You looked at him and slightly raised your eyebrows.

"happy birthday" he said, holding out the box for you to take. His voice seemed almost emotionless, like always, but this time you could hear the slightest quiver in it. Was Kaz Brekker nervous?

Your face adorned a smile, "is this for me?" You asked him, your voice slightly teasing.

"yes." He spoke, motioning you to take the box.

You took the box from him gingerly, a small thank you leaving your lips as you gave him a big smile, your finger ran along the edges of the box feeling the soft velvet and then you opened it. A soft gasp of surprise leaving your mouth as you removed the necklace out of the box, "Kaz! This is so precious" you said, an even wider smile now covered your face, the one where he could see your teeth, "thank you so much." You spoke earnestly.

"I'm glad you like it." Kaz spoke, the tiniest of smiles on his face.

You studied the pendant, your finger dragging along the pink flowers carved along the heart's edges, you smiled at the 'R' in the middle of the heart, "There's a 'R' in the centre of the heart" you said, your eyes meeting his, your eyebrows raised slightly as if questioning him.

Kaz remained silent, you felt as if you said something wrong, maybe you shouldn't have pointed it out, maybe it was accidental. But then Kaz said, "This way, there's always a piece of the real me with you." of course it wasn't accidental, kaz brekker is a mastermind, everything he does will always have a meaning.

"Thank you," you said, putting the necklace on, "I love it"

He merely gave you a nod and you left his room.

-

"Let me do the talking." Zoya said, her eyes on your face as you stepped into the crow club, you hummed a noise of approval your eyes desperately searching the dim lit room which reeked of alcohol, a smoky haze covered the room. Someone approached Zoya, you didn't know who he was nor you cared cause it wasn't him.

You soon got lost in your thoughts again, kaz often had that effect on you. You couldn't stop thinking about how he would react to seeing you, would he even acknowledge you? Would he show the slightest reaction? You weren't sure. Soon, Zoya grabbed your arm and tugged on it, "Let's go? I've been calling your name." Her voice had its usual sternness.

"Yeah, right, sorry." You spoke softly, your face held a look of melancholy, Zoya noticed it and her eyes softened, she placed her hands on yours gingerly and gave it a gentle squeeze, "it'll be okay" she said softly, offering you a small smile. You gave her a warm smile and a nod as you both walked towards a hall led by someone.

"Boss will meet you here", the man said as he opened the door to a room which looked like a study, you walked in and Zoya took a seat on the wooden chair kept opposite the table. You walked along the room, your eyes taking in every single corner of the room. You saw the painting hung up on the wall, scrolls of paper neatly placed on the side table, a black wool coat hung on the coat rack. Your breath hitched slightly, "was it his?," You thought, your hand reaching out to touch it, your hand grazed along the soft wool and then you heard the door open. You turned around and your eyes widened a little, your mouth slightly open, a breath left your mouth and your eyes met his striking blue ones. You felt as if time had stopped, you could feel your heart beating fast, so fast that you could feel it in your throat. "Kaz" you said, your voice barely a whisper.

Kaz's eyes widened a little, you could see his grip tighten on his cane, you gave him a little smile, he had to remember you. How could he not?

Zoya's sharp voice suddenly cut the thick tension that settled in the air, "Kaz Brekker, Ravka seeks your help." Her hand holding a letter out to him. A scowl covered Kaz's face, he snatched the letter off Zoya's hand, "We aren't patriots," he said grimly, his eyes meeting Zoya's.

"The money isn't the matter, the king will give you your price" She said with certainty.

Kaz hummed in response, his eyes reading the letter and then it met yours again. Oh those eyes, how you had longed to see them, Kaz's brown eyes were something you'd never forget. You couldn't even if you had tried. His eyes were the shade of brown you saw everyday in your morning coffee, you saw his eyes in the dark leather bound books, you saw his eyes in pieces of dark chocolate. For you he was everywhere- he was in the game of cards you saw younger Grisha playing, he was in the snarky remarks passed around, but more importantly, he was always in your heart.

"Leave." he said now looking at Zoya, "we will discuss about this in a moment." His voice sounded bitter.

Zoya hesitated, her eyes followed yours and she gave you a nod, "Fine, but just a moment", she uttered, leaving and slamming the door shut.

"Kaz," You called out, this time louder. Your voice held desperation in it, it was soft yet tense- you wanted to hold him, you wanted to touch him and try to make up the lost time, you took a step closer to him, "i missed you" you said, your hand fiddling with your necklace.

Kaz's eyes followed your hand, he was surprised to find out you still had the necklace with you, "Three years." he spoke, his voice softer now, "it's been three fucking years." you could see his walls slowly breaking down, his eyes becoming softer, the grip on his cane becoming weaker. "I wondered if you had died", his voice quivered slightly, his eyes glossier.

Another step forward, "How could i die without seeing you?", you said, humor in your voice, "Kaz, are you okay? is everything okay?" you asked, your face held a look of melancholy, your lips pursed.

"You look different," Kaz said, ignoring your question, "you look beautiful." he said slowly, a small smile playing on his lips.

you could feel the tears in your eyes, you smiled at him, a soft giggle left your lips, "Thank you, but that still doesn't answer my question, are you okay?"

"I missed your laugh" he said, "i missed you." This time Kaz took a step towards you, his gloved hands tensed a little. "You still have the necklace." he remarked.

You nodded, "how could i not carry a piece of the real you with me always?"

Kaz looked down, his hand tracing patterns on his cane, "I hated being away from you" he admitted, "i-" he took a breath, his eyes meeting yours, the look on his face made you want to cry, you could feel your eyes filling up with tears again, "I needed you" he said, your name leaving his lips, another breath in, "I wanted you".

You tilted your head slightly, your hands wiping the few tears on your cheek, "I am sorry,"

"It wasn't your fault." he said quickly.

"You have me now, if you still want me." you said, your voice slow, "after this, this war is over I'll stay here in Ketterdam, if you want me too"

Kaz's face looked like that of a young boy again, he was changed in the way he was now, he was dirtyhands, the bastard of the barrel, he was someone people feared- but right now, in this moment, he was Kaz Rietveld again.

"I will always want you." He said slowly, his hand reached out for yours, it tensed a little.

"Kaz you don't have too-"

"I want you to stay." He said, his hand relaxing in yours, "i want you." He gently squeezed your hand.

"Then you'll have me" you said smiling, "you will have me Kaz Rietveld."

[mediumgayitalian]

okay a few solangelo things i’m curious your take on,

what kind of gift givers do you think will and nico are to each other?

are either of them music nerds? making playlists? gifting playlists? what music do u think they like?

what is their favorite fruit?

do you think either of them keep up with pop culture? are they fans of anything? celebrity crushes? like do you think will would think timothee chalamet is cute bc he lowkey has nico’s vibes and is such a buzzer name for celeb crushes? lolll

and then, do you think nico shamelessly takes will’s sweaters and shirts to wear or secretly swipes them?

ty! love ur blog so much xx

HELL YEAH THANK YOU

what kind of gift givers do you think will and nico are to each other?

i think nico spoils will fucking rotten.

his dad is the god of wealth he is holding NOTHING back. aside from that, he grew up wealthy and spent so so long in the lotus casino. i think he has a rly bad handle on money lol.

however he's such a mysterious guy that i think it doesn't occur to will that nico is actively spending money on him??

like will makes an offhand comment about how he would marry the person who would bring him the mystical rocket launching boba fett. and nico is like word okay and the next day there is a rocket launching boba fett on will's pillow and he's like BRO???? OH MY GOD?????

but he just figures that nico knew someone who had it!! he knows nico is big on figurines & collectibles and has a lot of connections, so he thinks nico just called in a favour.

in reality nico did all those things and also spent like two hundred k lol

basically, nico doesn't even think about it. if he hears a friend express a want that he has to means to acquire...its not even an active choice to him?? he's like well why wouldn't i buy this for them.

and i think this means a whole lot to will!!

he's spent his life in his mom's tour van or a bunk bed. he grew up in two wars. he was responsible for an entire infirmary at 13. he's a nerd and he likes nerdy things but like...collecting takes time. and money he doesn't have, because money isn't really a focus in camp and its not like he's paid lol

so of course there are things that he likes but...imagine being will. imagine having a budget for the INFIRMARY YOU RUN and thinking, like...well the camp has only so much money. i know exactly what these medical supplies cost. i refuse to steal. why would i ever be so selfish to ask for money to be spent on me and the things i like?

and then there's nico, who doesn't need him to ask. who WANTS to give him things he wants, not just what he needs or what he wants for others. what WILL wants. nico will get him.

will on the other hand....he gives away his time like it's free.

he does things for people. constantly. like austin complains about not having anywhere quiet to practice and will builds him a soundproof practice room. you know?

now when nico, who has had no one spend their time on him since bianca....

like his father did not have time for him. even when he lived in the underworld, he was put to work. or else he was bored. it's not like he and hades HUNG OUT, you know?

and of course he had no friends to spend their time on him. even in his first time at camp half blood -- for the first time, bianca didnt have time for him. she chose the hunters for ETERNITY, she said i am done choosing you now. and nico drove percy insane, who certainly didn't have time for him between saving the world. the entire time we saw him in TTC he was being pushed away.

by the time he had hazel, HE was the one pushing himself away before anyone else could. he filled his time so he wasn't waiting for anyone else. besides, through no fault of hers, he and hazel CAN'T give each other as much of their time as they would like!! they live on opposite sides of the country!!

but will.....

gods will. will SEEKS HIM OUT. the first thing will says to him is i have carved out, in my busy healer schedule, three days of time for YOU. not only have i carved out these three days, but in that brief moment of time where i was running around camp, i was thinking about you. you were a PRIORITY and i'm upset that you did not come spend your time with me.

like.....oh my god. can you imagine that? being nico? hearing someone you barely know, at this point, talk about how much time he wants to spend with you? and then as you get closer, he spends SO MUCH time with you!! he makes you a priority!

will walks nico to breakfast and watches him in sword practice and takes out his schedule when nico is making his to make sure they line up. he plans dates and they're FUN and he is so careful to make them enjoyable for nico, too, so much so that he forgets his nerves.

the biggest gifts they give to each other is noticing, i think. i see you, i see what you need and wont ask for, and i care enough to give it to you anyway.

are either of them music nerds? making playlists? gifting playlists? what music do u think they like?

will is the HUGEST MUSIC NERD IN THE WORLD.

he may not have many musical talents himself but music was naomi solace's whole world. you bet your ass it's everything for him, too.

he is teased for his love of country, and he does love country (everybody loves country if you hate country you are lying to yourself, i know you sing along to before he cheats with your whole chest), but he has a VAST music taste.

he is a britney spears stan. i will not be convinced otherwise.

nico, on the other hand, is not nearly as ignorant about music as people pretend he is. y'all he was in a casino/arcade until like 2006!!!!! do you think it was silent in there!!!!! do you think he is not the absolute king of just dance and DDR!!!

however he was, like, 10. so i think he's familiar with a lot of songs but in the way you were when you were a kid, you know?? like i could sing paparazzi w my whole chest beginning to end flawlessly at eight years old, but i would not have been able to recognise lady gaga by name or sight.

i think he and will make somewhat of a game out of it. the first time they hang out, nico is NERVOUS beforehand. like for hours. will said they were going to have a chill day bc he has time off, but what are they supposed to DO?? before they were actively doing stuff together. will was teaching nico first aid basics, or nico was helping him around the infirmary; they were helping rebuild camp together. sure, they were talking, but they had something to focus on if things got awkward or conversation faded naturally.

that is VERY DIFFERENT from just hanging out in person. is nico supposed to have conversation starters prepared? how much silence is rude? is will going to finally decide he's boring? or weird? will is such a hyper person!!! how is nico supposed to entertain him!!

meanwhile will is in his cabin freaking the fuck out to his siblings like GUYS HES GONNA THINK IM A WEIRD NERD DORK LOSER 😭😭😭.....WHAT IF HE SAYS THE WORD SAND AND I GO ON THE ANAKIN SKYWALKER RANT ON REFLEX FUCK KAYLA WHAT DO I DO I DONT KNOW HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS LIKE A NORMAL PERSON HE IS SO OUT OF MY LEAGUE

so he calls his mom 💀

and his mom is like baby....you are a disaster are you aware. and hes like thanks MOM i know i need HELP OKAY

and naomi is like well you got on with my backstage crew just fine. and hes like well yeah we just talked about music that was easy.

...

OH THANKS MOM YOURE SO SMART

and he's like wait nico has spent a lot of time in the underworld...he might not be very up to date!! this'll be awesome. so he stays up till like 3 on the big house computer carefully making nico several CDs worth of playlists.

he makes HOURS of music. way more than they could ever listen to in one day, but he gets carried away. he makes a playlist with his favourite country music, including his moms stuff obviously, with rock music he thinks nico in particular will like, pop punk stuff, regular pop, an entire CD dedicated to the icon herself kesha (whom he knows personally bc she sun backup vocals for his mom when she was a teenager), some musicals, and some iconic european music to top it off. he has a little bit of EVERYTHING.

most important, though, he makes a CD with the top 100 billboard songs from the years 1958 (when it started) to 1985. he doesnt have enough time to do it all the way to this year in one night but vows to work on it when he has time.

when he goes to nico's cabin, he comes with a stack of CDs as long as his arm and chiron's CD player. he's practically sparkling with excitement; when nico opens the door he is already halfway through a sentence lol.

for four straight hours, they just listen to song after song, will pausing after each one to ask what nico thinks. he recognises a lot of them, even though he didn't know their names, but even still he's pretty quiet at first. but as they go on it gets hard not to get caught up in wills excitement, and he dances like such a dork, anyway, is it his fault for laughing? and those four hours pass like MINUTES and suddenly its curfew and will has to go.

this becomes their tradition! will plays a song, nico reviews it. even as they learn how to hang out with each other in different ways, it becomes reflex -- when there's a song playing will looks at nico for a reaction. when they're with others, in public, whenever.

the first time nico makes will a playlist he cries.

the playlist is called sunshine.

will plays on his walkman until its worn right through.

what is their favorite fruit?

at first will thinks nico doesn't like fruit at all because he has to force this dumbass to eat fruit and vegetables. all he eats is like. cereal and sandwiches. it stresses will the fuck out.

he's out here plopping a bowl of fruit on nico's table like eat this whole thing or i'm gonna whoop your ass before scurvy does. (he is genuinely afraid nico is going to get scurvy, although its not a very effective anxiety because hes kind of deeply afraid of scurvy in general and is always trying to push people to eat oranges lol).

nico ALWAYS drags his feet about it. at one point will gets worried that nico just straight up doesn't like fruit and starts fretting about synthetizing supplements.

turns out nico is just, like...a little pretentious. about fruit particularly. in his defense, he has been all over the world. like he's had indian mangoes and algerian clementines okay it is VERY hard to settle for stuff grown in north america as nice as the demeter greenhouses are.

his favourite fruit ever is the lemon though. he had a lemon tree in his backyard when he was a kid that he doesn't remember, exactly, but he remembers how it tastes. will brings him a lemon once and almost as if his hands are working on their own, he cuts a slice, removes the peel and pith, puts it in a jar of sugar, and shakes to coat it, like his nonna would do secretly when he mama wasn't looking. its the best thing he's ever tasted.

will is a fruit fanatic, on the other hand. he steals strawberries every time he walks by the fields. the demeter cabin has to count their blueberries every night because he can and will eat them all when no one's looking.

his favourite, though, and he never ever gets it at camp, is prickly pear. in the summers before camp he would go to the desert with his mom and pick enough to make his stomach hurt -- he's never home when they're in season now, so sometimes when she's free shell drive up to new york just to bring him a box of them. she knows he's busy and cant leave camp in summers but she wants him to have that, at least.

do you think either of them keep up with pop culture? are they fans of anything? celebrity crushes? like do you think will would think timothee chalamet is cute bc he lowkey has nico’s vibes and is such a buzzer name for celeb crushes? lolll

i think all year-rounders are into pop culture just fine, but they're a few years behind. except for music -- will knows music. but things like movies and tv shows and memes, they either get updated from their summer-only friends or they stumble upon in naturally when it's not longer relevant lol.

nico, though, has an encyclopedic knowledge of old pop culture, because the lotus got new tech and games and movies before literally anyone else. he saw back to the future before it was in theatres and it changed his life. he quotes it all the time and no one has called him out on it then, but it is only a matter of time.

(he has seen star wars. he saw star wars before will was alive. but it is 100% funnier to pretend he doesn't know what a galaxy is and watch will's eye twitch when he asks him about luke skyrunner)

and then, do you think nico shamelessly takes will’s sweaters and shirts to wear or secretly swipes them?

yes absolutely. but he's super embarrassed about it at first so he genuinely STEALS them, not just borrows them.

it's a heist and everything. he shadow travels into the apollo cabin at like three in the morning and rifles through will's shelf. when he gets back he panics and shoves it under his mattress, where it lives in shame for four months. will just thinks it must have been an unfortunate victim of some poor sick child or bleeding demigod and writes it off.

after several months, during which nico thinks about the sweater ALL the time but cannot physically force himself to touch, nico finally gets brave enough to take it out from under his mattress. he just stares at it for a long ass time, wrinkling it in his clenched hands. it's just a hoodie, you know?? who cares.

nico cares. obviously.

eventually he gets so annoyed with himself that he just yanks it on expecting to be able to tell himself like SEE you dumbass it's just a piece of clothing it literally does not matter. except.

except.

the hoodie still smells like will.

somehow.

and that is.

well.

he would rather dunk his head into the river of fire than admit it, but he melts. the hoodie is old as hell and worn and so so so so soft, gods, no wonder will wears it all the time. he never wants to take it off ever.

for weeks, whenever he's alone in the cabin, he wears the hoodie. it stops smelling like will pretty quickly but he doesn't mind, it's still the most comfortable thing ever. it becomes second nature to walk into his cabin, throw off his jacket, and tug the hoodie on, wearing it to bed.

on one night, and of course it's the hermes' cabin fault, everyone is rushing out of their cabin to see what the fresh fuck is sounding like twenty four fire alarms at once and also a nuclear explosion. nico, in his haste, does not take off the hoodie.

will, whipped, makes sure his siblings are okay and then turns immediately to find nico. he Sees The Hoodie. nico Sees Him See The Hoodie. nico tries to flee.

will has longer legs and also spots a teasing opportunity, so hera herself could not stop him.

will teases him to pieces but is also visibly pleased. the next morning nico finds another hoodie of will's hung over his desk chair.

he wears will's hoodies all the time.

THANK YOU FOR SENDING THESE IN I HAD SO MUCH FUN