#I still have my old laptop and I don’t plan on getting rid of my old printer

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: stalker/ unsuccessful kidnap, violence, depictions of blood and assault (let me know if I should add more)

Chapter Word Count: 2318

—-MDNI—-

A/N: Sooooo I’m sorry it’s not spicy like I said it would be… But I absolutely promise the next one will be! Chapters 5 and 6 were supposed to be just one chapter but it got too long so I had to split it… And again please let me know of any errors because this is only proof read by myself.

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Please Read the Below First:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

I’m Not You’re F*cking Maid

Chapter 5

After thorough interviewing of the staff and regular patrons; long searches through copious auction records and meticulous studying of the items in the shop we narrowed our search down to one item: an old jade hairpin. The hairpin belonged to a young lady who was given the gift as a wedding present, however when she found out on her wedding night that her new husband was having an affair, she stabbed him to death with it before jumping to her own demise from their third floor balcony. That was just over a century ago, and she was still wreaking havoc on unfaithful men to this day.

“I mean I get where she’s coming from,” I shrugged as we walked back to the motel. Both brothers turned to look at me with concern smeared over their features. “OBVIOUSLY I don’t agree with all the murder,” they breathed a sigh of relief, “but you can’t hate her for being mad. I would be too.”

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” Dean said, raising his eyebrows a little and holding his hands up. I gave him a look of bewilderment.

“What side do you think you’re on, Dean? Because this,” I gestured between us, “isn’t my good side.” He mumbled something incoherent as we got to the motel so I chose to ignore him completely.

“So what’s the plan? It’s getting late and we can’t really do anything now until that charity event taking place at the auction house tomorrow. We’re already pretty clued up on how to get rid of ghosts so there’s really not much to do except to get both your names on that guest list,” Sam patted his laptop, looking at both of us.

“Food?” Dean and I said at the same time.

“Food sounds good,” Sam nodded. The boys turned around to leave when I stopped them.

“Just whilst we’re still at the motel, I’m just going to freshen up real quick.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “really?” I flipped him the bird.

“I can just meet you there? There’s like only one diner in this town and I know the way. I won’t be long.” The brothers looked at each other for a few seconds before Sam looked at me and smiled.

“Sure ok, we’ll get a seat in the window so we can see you coming.”

“Great! I’ll see you soon,” I grinned at the younger Winchester before turning away and letting myself into my room.

I had the worlds quickest shower and threw on some clean underwear and a clean top, feeling better after getting the grime from the day off. I pulled on my jeans, socks and boots, applied a small amount of eyeliner and mascara and tidied my hair the best I could before slinging on my jacket and applying some perfume to my wrists and neck. It was one of my favourite scents: I’d bought it from some lingerie store a year or so ago and it’s apparently one of those aphrodisiac perfumes, however I have no idea if it even works or not. It’s probably a scam, nothing works that well in real life.

After I’d finished sorting myself out - which took no longer than half an hour - I grabbed my phone and keys and left the room, locking up before making my way towards the diner. Night had descended, the air turning cold against my warm skin and the usually busy streets now lay deserted and car-free. It was only about a five minute walk or so from the motel and I was now only about a minute away when I noticed that I wasn’t alone. I’d caught a glimpse of a figure dressed from head to toe in black in the reflection of several shop windows, and they were following my exact trail. I sped up, walking faster down the empty main road and hoping it was all a coincidence as worst case scenarios started to race through my mind. It wasn’t long until the diner was in sight and I breathed a sigh of relief, however the relief was short lived when those footsteps were getting closer and closer, quicker and quicker right behind me. It dawned on me that this wasn’t a coincidence at all - I was definitely being stalked. I started to run, my legs moving before my brain had kicked into gear and I was only inches from the front door when the stranger caught up, slamming me against the wall of the building and putting a knife to my throat, covering my mouth with a gloved hand.

“Don’t make a fucking noise - you’re coming with me,” he said aggressively yet quietly. I could feel the blade of the knife pressing against the soft skin of my neck and I couldn’t help but feel tears well in my eyes, my breath turning shaky as my heart hammered in my chest. I couldn’t even get any words out as his hand was too tight over my lips.

I wanted to cry out for help so badly it hurt.

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing that this was all a bad dream. My cheek was pushed into the rough brick which grazed my skin, and I silently prayed for my attacker to just let me go or for some hero to come and save me. At that very moment I heard the door to the diner and my eyes shot open, instantly connecting with Deans. I watched as surprise turned to horror which then turned to pure feral rage on his face and before I even had a chance to blink he was gone from my line of sight - but so was the pressure keeping me pinned against the wall. I spun around and I watched Dean throw the stalker to the floor with more force that I thought he could muster and tower over him. Dean didn’t say a word, but the stranger let out a sharp cry of pain as Dean instantly brought his boot down on his ribs. There was a CRACK. He did it again.

And again.

And again.

And then he got down and pinned my attacker flush against the tarmac before he brought a closed fist down on his face over and over and over again, cracking his jaw and breaking his nose. Dean didn’t stop until the man was totally unrecognisable and unresponsive. Standing up off of his limp body, he looked over to me, his furious, almost animalistic stare softening instantly, even through all the blood that now painted his face. He took one step towards me before my feet worked on their own and carried me straight to him. I put my arms out to reach for him and he grabbed my hands and pulled me into his chest with zero hesitation, his arms circling me and his blood-soaked palms gently stroking my hair. I sobbed. I sobbed from the fear I felt, I sobbed for feeling like such a victim and I sobbed for the relief I now felt flooding my veins as Dean held me, not saying a word. Listening to his heartbeat with my ear to his chest, I felt so safe and secure that it made me want to sob even more.

*

Dean ended up taking me straight back to my room - he called Sam to tell him what had happened as he wasn’t going to be returning to the diner. I had my second shower of the day as soon as we returned, wanting to scrub everywhere that horrible man had touched. Whilst I was washing, Dean had headed back to his own room to shower off the layer of blood coating his skin. After I was satisfactorily clean, I dried myself and dressed in that old T-shirt I wore the night before, pulling on some fresh underwear and perching on the end of the bed. I picked up the remote and started mindlessly flicking through channels, hoping to find something to distract my racing brain.

I’d been sitting in the same position for around ten minutes when there was a gentle knock on the door. I held my breath as I got up and walked over, looking through the peephole. It was Dean. I released that breath as I opened the door and let him in. He’d changed from his usual gruff attire to something way more comfortable - a plain white T-shirt and a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms. He smiled at me. A kind smile, nothing like those teasing and sly ones we’d been throwing at each other since yesterday. This one was genuine, and it made my chest feel warm. He locked the door behind him as I padded back over to the bed and climbed on it, sitting right in the centre with my legs crossed. I pulled the T-shirt down to cover my dignity as Dean placed a carrier bag in front of me. I peeked inside. It was full to the brim of all different types of snacks and I grinned up at him.

“You sure do know how to treat a girl, Winchester.”

He let out a soft laugh and looked down at the floor before taking residence beside me.

“You’re the first one who thinks so”.

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s a long line of women who definitely think otherwise,” he smiled a slightly sad smile. We both paused before I continued.

“Well if it means anything, what you did for me today, I-” he held a hand up to stop me as he saw the look of fear flit across my features again, the horrid memory bubbling to the surface.

“It was the least I could do,” he said softly before his brows furrowed, “but to be honest I should never have let you out of my sight.” The almost protective tone of his voice made my heart flutter a little, but It was my turn to reassure him as I placed my hand on his shoulder delicately.

“Dean, none of us knew that would happen. I know you wouldn’t have left me alone if you genuinely thought I was in danger - after all, you DID promise to keep me safe from my own shadow,” I flashed him a grin which he quickly returned, chuckling. We sat for a few moments in a strangely comfortable silence before there was another knock at the door. I went to get up to answer it but Dean beat me to it, swinging it open to show a very concerned Sam stood in the doorway. He looked at me with those big ever-worried eyes and I shot him my best ‘please don’t worry’ grin.

“I’m fine, Sam” I called out to him as I tried to listen in on the hushed words Dean was speaking. They conversed for a while, occasionally throwing glances at me as I rustled around in the bag of goodies Dean had supplied. Growing bored of not being involved with their conversation, I scooted back on the bed to lean back on the headboard and proceeded to flick through dozens of channels until I found something decent to watch. A few more minutes had passed and I’d munched my way through almost half a bag of Doritos when I heard the door close and it was just me and Dean again. He had a paper bag that Sam must’ve passed him, which he held up and pointed to.

“The blood stains came out of my clothes, although Sam said the people in the laundromat were giving him strange looks,” he laughed slightly, those striking eyes of his looking down into mine as he took a few steps closer. I laughed slightly, only imagining Sam’s awkwardness in that situation. I broke my gaze away from Dean for a few seconds, looking down at my hands before looking back up. I could tell he was hovering now, just waiting for me to say something.

“Dean I’m fine, you don’t have to stay.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if you need me to” his hand ran over the stubble on his chin, his eyes not leaving me.

“Really, I’m ok. I’m probably just going to sit here and watch whatever this is-”

“It’s obviously Men in Black,” Dean scoffed. I smiled, finding comfort in the familiar snarky remark.

“Obviously - I don’t live under a rock Dean,” I rolled my eyes as I stood up, placing my hands on his chest. He was so warm to the touch that it was almost enticing me not to let go. The gentle thrum of his heartbeat was so soothing. But I did let go, and I spun him around to start ushering him to the door. As he was leaving, I grabbed my half eaten bag of chips and started munching again. He opened the door, stepping outside.

“Go back to your room Dean. I promise I’m ok. I don’t want you both hovering over me constantly making sure I’m fine; that will just make me feel worse,” I said as he spun to face me, nodding his head.

“Back to normal. Got it.”

“Great,” I said, sucking the tangy chip dust from my thumb. Dean suddenly reached out and snatched the half-eaten bag from my hand before quickly walking away.

“I’ll see you in the morning!” He shouted back at me before shovelling food into his mouth.

“You ass! I was eating those!” He shrugged in an overly animated fashion, not bothering to turn and look at me as he continued towards his room. I sighed, closing the door and locking it, sliding the chain across this time too. I padded back towards the bed and climbed in, pulling the covers up to my chin. As I started to drift off, the buzz of the movie still playing in the background, I smiled a little to myself:

Fucking Winchester.

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Up Next:

Chapter 6

#dean x female!reader #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #eventual smut #slow burn

[criminologykee]

Preparing for 2023...

2022 is coming to a close, and it’s around this time that I start thinking about my intentions for the year going forward; my goals, or things I want to see, experience, and achieve. A new year can feel like a lot of pressure - pressure to be perfect, to get everything right, to reinvent yourself, and to lead the best life you can, but I think it’s important not to hold such high expectations of the year ahead.

With that said, I want to share some ideas of things you can do before the end of 2022 to ensure you have a smooth journey into the new year, and hopefully start on a positive note. As they say, start as you mean to go on.

All of these things will hopefully be small, simple, and achievable actions to carry out over the next few days. So, let’s get into it…

Digital Cleanse Decluttering is one of my favourite things to do before the end of the year, because I love going into a New Year feeling like I have space for new things and new experiences.   For a digital declutter, you can delete unused apps, delete or reorganise your playlists, declutter your files on your laptop/computer, delete photos you don’t want anymore and organise your photos into folders, unsubscribe from mailing lists, and change any passwords you may need to change! I also like doing unfollow/unfriend sprees on my socials to make sure I’m connecting with the people I really care about, and I’m not still friends with or following people who make me feel bad!

Physical Declutter Like a digital declutter, this will just help you clear up some space for things in the New Year. Whether it’s your closet, your desk, your junk drawers, or even emptying your tote bag of receipts (just me?). Now’s the time to donate/recycle old clothes, clean out old/empty or expired makeup and cosmetic items, and get rid of the random wires you never need but have kept for years.

Clean Once you’ve decluttered, it’s time to clean! Clean your phone and laptop, change your bedsheets, dust your shelves - just get your space as clean as you can to really start fresh for the new year. This is also a great time to organise your belongings after you’ve decluttered. Make sure everything has a home and is as tidy as you can get it - you can always revisit things each month or quarter to free up some more space and keep your environment tidy. 

Get Organised Start adding important dates to your diary, calendar, google calendar, etc. so you don’t forget important dates or double book events! I personally have a physical diary and calendar, and a digital calendar which syncs to my laptop and phone so I can be sure I won’t miss anything. If you need to plan your budget, now’s the time to do that too. 

Goals and/or Intentions As 2022 comes to a close, it’s probably time to start setting some goals and intentions for the new year ahead. New Year Resolutions aren’t really for me, but instead I tend to set a few achievable goals and some good intentions. For example, in 2022, my goal was to do one fun thing a month - whether that was a concert, a comic con, a day trip, a holiday, or even small things like a cinema trip to a film I’ve been desperate to see - and I’m pretty sure I was successful, probably even more so than I had expected to be! Intentions are new to me, I’ve been setting daily intentions when I remember, but my intentions for 2023 are as simple as being kinder to myself, trying my best, and picking up some old hobbies away from my phone!   Write your intentions and goals down somewhere, or get creative and make a moodboard or vision board for the year. You could even write down the steps you need to take or changes you can make to achieve your goals and intentions to help you when you’re feeling demotivated or stuck.

Reflect on 2022 As much as we tend to look forward as one year comes to an end, I think it’s just as important to look back on the year we’ve just experienced and reflect on it. Think about the things you achieved, how you changed for better or maybe even for worse, things you needed more of, things you want less of, etc. All of these things will help you know exactly what you want to get out of 2023!

That’s pretty much everything I’m doing over the next few days! I’d love to know if there’s anything you’re doing to prepare yourself for the year ahead. 

Wishing you all the best for 2023! 

See you there Kee

Read the post on Wordpress

#2023 #2023 intentions #2023 goals #preparing for 2023 #new years resolution #new year #twenty twenty three #cupofkee #criminologykee #blogger #wordpress blogger #studyblr #studygram #study goals #study motivation

[blahandwhatever]

I’ve had several days of doing seemingly ridiculous amounts of chilling yet have managed to be reasonably productive at the same time - with chores, with shopping, with various small tasks and some excursions. I renewed my contact prescription, applied for a couple of new jobs, cleared up some storage on my laptop again, had a couple of effective encounters with insects, and signed up for some new, cheaper car insurance after months of nervously going without any because I couldn’t make the payments. I’d hoped to finally sign up for dental insurance before this month, but it was complicated and I didn’t feel like finishing dealing with it - think I should probably figure out what dentist I want to go to first and make sure they’re in the network, and then I need to avoid plans that have a waiting period before they cover major work because I’m pretty sure I will need major work.

Last week, unsightly pimples and an unsightly cold sore kept me under the radar out in the world. I did, however, go to my first Nielsen Neuro study in forever, and then did the usual wandering around Chicago, and it was nice but I was a bit too tired and a bit too hot from the forecast misleading me. As usual, I passed old places and remembered harder times. Thinking about the time I took a day off from work and wandered around wondering how much longer I’d be alive; sat in a Dunkin’ Donuts, ate a bagel, and thought about my chest pains, anxiety, and mortality, feeling vaguely safe encased in this pedestrian place devoid of any existential weight; sat in a Starbucks and listened to a man TED Talk at a woman while I tried to write about my feelings. Thinking about how freeing it felt to not go to work and not have my parents know it. Thinking about how much and how gravely I once thought about death, how baffled I was by everyone living so carefreely.

Saturday I thought I’d go somewhere, but my forgotten period came and brought its malaise, which did help explain my face. Thought I’d shift my plans to Sunday, but my parents invited me over, and I did a good job going with the flow without much resentment about the last-minute invitation - partly because I felt shaky about going places on the likely crowded and chaotic 4th of July weekend to begin with. It was another pretty inoffensive visit, though my brother was a bit cranky again, and I got another bike ride in.

The past two days, I’ve been kept inside by iffy weather. Yesterday there was a bunch of smoke outside my windows what turned out to be briefly from what turned out to be some kids messing around with firecrackers or something, and unfortunately I stepped out on the balcony as soon as I saw it, letting in smoke and weird sulfuric smells. I cycled the purifier around all the rooms for the first time in a while, and I don’t know if this was a net positive.

In the bathroom drain, there’s a bad smell and gunk I’ve had trouble getting rid of. In the parking lot, behind the dumpster, behind my car, there is broken glass, ever smaller and more scattered over time, and I’ve unlocked an alternate walking route to my car as a result, and I’ve contacted the maintenance man, but last I checked, it was still there. Out in the world, terrible things keep happening, and there’s little I am shocked by anymore, and my willingness to mourn the endless tragedies keeps on dwindling.

[heavensigh]

I feel like my laptop is always dead. I should have shelled out the extra money and got the Pro version again. Anyway, last week, I parked next to a used condom in the parking lot. Its my favorite parking spot so when I saw the used condom I said, “gross” and kept it moving. Its been there for a week. A whole week. And I know its going to be there when I come back. I wouldn’t touch it either. I bring it up because I thought the whole thing was kinda funny. Every day I came into the office I made sure not to drive over it so it wouldn’t get stuck to my tires, and then just skip over it, instead of just parking somewhere else. Maybe that gives more insight to the inner workings of my mind but I can’t be bothered to explore that right now.

My birthday is coming up and I’m excited. We have planned a trip to tour Hurst Castle and see a massive light art installation show. We’re going to stay at a B&B, go to the beach and take lots of pictures. I ordered a new swimsuit, even though the ones I bought last year got zero use. I also ordered a bunch of new blouses and work friendly dresses as well. Can you tell I just got paid?

Work is going alright. I’m still lost as hell and my attorney can be very condescending. I, like a fool, forgot to turn off my work email notifications on my cell phone and now I’m seeing a few issues I know I will have to deal with on Monday. I think I even had a stress dream about some. Ugh, how awful. I’m trying not to let it bum me out. I’m only a month at the job but my attorney still acts like I need to read her mind.

Gym life could be better. I only went twice last month. I’m out of my game haze so I think I’ll be more focused but this journey is truly a marathon, not a sprint. Everyone tried to tell me but now I get it. I’m settling in a routine and I don’t feel guilty anymore. 

I’m missing Blerdcon this year. July just sort of snuck up on me and I forgot they had changed the dates. I thought I wanted to vend again, get rid of some old merch I have but I’m not looking to getting on a plane anytime soon. Especially with the delays and how laborious it is to transport all that booth setup equipment. I wanted to cool off on going to cons but I didn’t get the last cosplay I commissioned until after the con was over. So now I have to let that thing see the light of day before I can retire my con life. I gotta look up which ones are happening soon. I want to go out with a bang so I gotta pick carefully.

I really want to go swimming again. The pools here just opened up but the lap hours are so strange. One was going to be opened from 6am to 11am and I was thinking that would be perfect for me. I would get up early to swim. But now they changed it to 7am to 11am. So I can’t make that one and all the other ones in my area are similar hours. Nothing after work. Maybe I can swim on the weekends early? I have to go down to the rec center and check it out today. Either way I ordered a Soup Cap to help protect my hair.

I still have to sign up for Cello lessons and pilates. I’m not sure how I’m going to find the time with school, and more importantly, work taking up so much time. But I want to have fun this summer. I was so sick for so long.

It freaking sucks because now that I have more money coming in the home, we have so much to catch up on. This house isn’t “updated” in any sense and it needed a lot of work. We have plans to revamp both the front and back yard, the garage is old as hell and we need to repaint the rooms and ceilings. We are still saving money but damn, we gotta space out these projects. I got this job in late March and its been one big project after another. After our birthday trip we have to really buckle down.

#dear diary #pbthoughts #personal #journal #life #work #school #fitness journey #adulting

[cande-dooder]

My room became a complete disaster from me setting up my new printer 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️

I have too much stuff!!

#personal #my room looks like a tornado hit it #also so many friggin cords #I have too many electronics #half joking on the too many electronics #I still have my old laptop and I don’t plan on getting rid of my old printer #I’m also super disorganized

[lily-drake]

Twin!Sibling Tim and Marinette where Tim is digging into his parents old files one day and discovers he had a younger twin sibling that was given up cause she wasn't planned. Tim does what Tim does best starts tracking down where she was sent/adopted to and finds out she's in Paris. Marinette has always known she was adopted and doesn't even bat an eye when he shows up. Basically they bond over coffee/riddles/problem solving, and discover each other hero identities.

Siblings don’t shake hands, siblings gotta hug!

sorry this took so long!

Tim didn’t want to be at the manor.  He was tired, and it wasn’t because he hadn’t slept in like 4 days, no his tiredness was bone deep.  It has been a year now since he was proven right that Bruce was indeed alive.  He was right, but Dick never apologized, Damian was still trying to kill him, Jason was still doing his thing in Crime Alley, and as long as he stayed far away from there he would be fine.  Bruce, at least he had thanked him when Tim had pulled him out of the time stream.  But that wasn’t enough, because he never stopped Damian’s many attempts to kill him, he often let Jason, his also attempted murderer, into the manor whenever the guy wanted!  Dick had even threatened to send him to Arkham for even suggesting that Bruce was alive, and would you look at that, he is!  So no, he didn’t feel safe at the manor.  And yes, he was tired of doing so much for everyone and having to be trampled on and thrown away for someone or something new.

He didn’t know why he was at Drake Manor.  Honestly this place wasn’t any better, but he knew that no one would ever think to look here.  So he let the back of his mind take control and he wandered through old dusty rooms.  He was honestly surprised Bruce was still spending his money to keep this place.  He was wandering through his father’s old office and saw a filing cabinet.  Why not, Tim thought tiredly as he opened one of the drawers and he was met with files upon files.  Some mindless work would be good for him, it would keep his mind off of his horrible thoughts and the feelings he really didn’t need right now.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, just going through old documents, bills, reports, but it was fine.  Well it was fine until he stumbled upon a birth certificate that wasn’t his own.  It was a girl’s certificate, she was born the same day, of the same year, two minutes after him.  Tim sat there staring down at the piece of paper before his mind basically exploded and he was a flurry.  He was going through the metal cabinet drawers much faster.  He pulled out everything he could find on “Marinette”, and that’s when he stumbled upon a journal entry inside one of the envelope that held his —oh my gosh, he had a little sister, he wasn’t alone anymore; shut up, he’s not crying— apparent sister’s name on it.

19 July ####

Stupid child.  We didn’t know that this stupid girl was going to disrupt our plans!  We don’t need another heir, especially not a girl.  This might just set back our plans for Tim… unless we get rid of her.  Nobody has to know who she is, not even her if we put her up for adoption.  I’ll have to run it by Janet first, but I may have just found the answer to the problem.

Tim felt disgusted, how could his parents do something like this?!  Tim imagined what it would have been like to live with his apparent twin and thought how much better and warm it could have been.  Tim came to a decision, he was going to find her, he was going to meet her, he had to make sure that she was in a good home and that hi-er, their parents hadn’t just shipped her off to some random family that could be hurting her.  So that’s what he did.  After collecting all the information he could find and stuffing it into one of the manilla folders he ran back to the manor and to his room where his personal laptop sat on his desk.

_______

Marinette always knew she was adopted.  While she had many similarities to Sabine, she knew she couldn’t be her real mom.  She was different from them, and while she had learned so many things from them and she was so happy, she knew that she was missing something.  She had always felt some sort of loss, and it wasn’t their fault, but at the same time it might have been.  So when she saw a boy around her age with dark black hair and eyes so similar to hers she could just feel a connection.  It felt like something had just fallen into place and the world was finally beginning to be complete.  The two stared at each other for what felt like hours but was probably just a few minutes before he approached her.

“Umm..h-hey.  Um,”

He awkwardly cleared his throat before continuing.

“I’m Tim Drake, and I know this is going to sound weird…but I think I’m your twin brother.”

Marinette blinked a few times before a wide smile spread across her lips.

“It’s great to meet you Tim!  I’m Marinette, though I’m sure you already knew that.”

They both chuckled at that before the awkward silence surrounded them once more.

“Sooo….would you like some coffee?”

Marinette asked, noticing the tired posture that her —she had a brother, a twin no less, that’s so cool— brother’s exhausted posture.

“Wait, you're just going to take my word for it?!”

He asked incredulously.  Marinette rolled her eyes at that as she went behind the counter of the bakery and began a brew of her special all-nighter coffee.

“We have the same eyes, hair, and how dare you be a bad influence to me when I haven’t even met you!”

She joked, but he looked confused.

“W-what do you mean?”

“You look like you haven’t slept in a week, and I’ve been there, done that, and I know I’ll do it again.”

Tim didn’t have anything to say to that, because he was the older sibling, and he was a bad influence, even from an ocean away.  How could he fall into such a bad habit and let his sister think it was okay to do it too?!  A large cup of coffee was placed in front of his face breaking him out of his stupor.  He carefully took it and gave her an awkward smile.

“Thank you.”

He said sheepishly.  He slowly took a sip of the hot drink and his eyes widened with wonder and delight.

“Magical coffee goddess, I worship you.  This is the best coffee ever.  I’m so glad we’re related right now!”

Marinette giggled and played along tilting her chin the air in a ‘better-than-you’ sort of way,

“Of course you should worship me.  I am your sister and thus I obviously deserve all of the praise.”

They made eye contact and began laughing again.

“Follow me, mama and papa made some cookies upstairs.”

“Really?!”

Tim said with hope and pure joy.  Marinette could see the loneliness in his eyes, and she understood it.  They both carried a burden, maybe they had more similarities than they would ever truly know.

“So, do tell brother-o-mine, what are your hobbies?”

Marinette asked as she opened the apartment door that led to the main room.  He thought over for a bit as they settled on the barstools in front of the counter where the cookies sat in a pile atop a decorated plate.

“Well, I like photography, I do a lot of tech stuff, I solve cold cases, and solving riddles is fun.”

He said before nibbling shyly on a cookie, like nobody had ever really cared or asked what he liked to do.  Marinette was going to change this, he was family and he should be treated as such, which means she’s going to treat like he’s the most important person.  And considering their twins he is!

“Oh?  Ok then Tim-Tam,”

He made a confused face but didn’t say anything,

“I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?”

Tim's eyes widened before they sparkled with a bright happy gleam. He took another bit, a bigger one this time, of the cookie and swallowed before easily replying,

“An echo.”

Marinette nodded her head and held her hand up, he looked at it for a second confusedly before he realized what she was doing.  He quickly high fived her back and her bright smile made him so happy.  Was he doing this right, Damian had never given him a chance to be an older brother, he was even kicked out so he really didn’t know if he was doing anything right.  But she looked happy, and it seemed genuine, so maybe he was?

“Alright, my turn.”

He said, and after a bit of thought said,

“White bird, featherless. Flying out of paradise. Flying over sea and land. Dying in my hand. What is it?”

Marinette had never heard of this one, but she was determined to figure it out.  She took another cookie from the plate and began to eat it as she thought.

“Could you repeat it please?”

He smirked and did.  She would wipe that smirk off his face, she would not surrender!!!  After a few more minutes it hit her an she smiled brightly,

“A snowflake!”

Tim wanted to feel upset, he did, really!  But her smile was so bright and she looked so happy and prideful, he couldn’t help but smile too.  Marinette opened her mouth to ask him another riddle when her Akuma alert went off.  She glared at it before she sighed and stood up.

“I’ll be right back Tim, I just need to grab something in my room, okay?”

Tim hesitated a little but nodded silently and gripped his hands together.  Marinette wanted to scream, because of course he had abandonment issues.  She was going to kill whoever hurt her —she didn’t know who was older, she’d have to ask— brother in such a way.

“Tim, I promise that I will be back, and I’m not trying to get away from you.  I want to get to know you, I just need to take care of this, okay?”

Tim could feel tears stinging at the back of his eyes at her words.  How long had he been waiting for someone to say that to him?  That they weren’t going to run from him, that they would stay, that they actually would come back?

“Okay.”

He whispered not daring to meet her eyes for fear that she would see his weakness.  He could hear her feet on the stairs and the door close and then he waited anxiously for her to return.

It felt like hours that she had been gone, but when he checked his phone again it had been, half an hour.  He bit his lip in anticipation and came to a decision he would knock on her door and ask if she needed help with anything.  If she was working on some project it would be rude of him not to try to help her in some way.  So he carefully made his way up the stairs and knocked on the door.

“Marinette, do you need any help?”

There was no reply and it was silent in there.  It was too silent for someone to not be in there.  And he was a paranoid man, so could you blame him for opening the door, and when she wasn’t there looking around?  When he heard a thump come from the loft bed he quickly looked up and took a defensive stance only to see a lady in ladybug themed spandex and ladybug themed mask, and the suit was disappearing into magical pink sparkles, and his sister was staring at him instead of the ladybug girl, and oh, his sister was the ladybug girl.

“I’m the most terrible, horrible, absolute worst, influence to ever exist.  The worst big brother to ever exist.”

Tim groaned, burying his face in his hands.  Of course she was also a superhero.  When was anyone he called family not one?!  Marinette did not expect or understand his reaction.  How was he such a terrible influence, it’s not like he was a-unless he was.  So he was the older twin, question answered at least.

“What hero are you?”

She asked as she stared down at her brother from her bed.

“Red Robin, in Gotham.”

He groaned, face still covered.

“Well, want to meet the rest of the team?  We were planning to meet for ice cream soon.”

Tim looked at her eyes shining with emotion.

“Just like that?  You’re just going to accept it, except me so easily?”

Marinette hopped down and hugged her brother tightly and felt her heart ache as he practically melted into her touch.

“Of course!  You’re my brother, my family, and I’ll never leave my family behind, ever.”

They had both lost people important in their lives, both been betrayed in ways they weren’t able to talk about quite yet, but one day they would.

______

Tim had begun to zeta to Paris almost every other day to visit Marinette, and sometimes he would stay with her for weeks on end.  Tom and Sabine were such genuine and sweet people and he had never felt so loved then he did in her house or with her and her friends.  Chloe, Luka, Kagami, Adrien, and Juleka were some of the most genuine and protective people he had ever met.  He would often patrol with them, and when Adrien using his bo staff as a sword finally got to him, taught the kid how to use his precious child properly.  With his spare time he would help them track down Hawkmoth and help them narrow down the suspect list.

He had been gone from Gotham for almost a month now and all of them were just chilling in Chloe’s room.  Luka was strumming some soft melodies on his guitar, Juleka, Chloe, and Marinette were talking about designs, and Adrien and Kagami were talking about fencing techniques.  Tim looked up from his laptop, he had been doing WE work from here and attending meetings via video call, and picked up the camera he had brought with him from the table next to him.  He set his laptop aside and stood in a corner of a room getting the perfect angle to capture the serenity of the moment.  He stared down at the picture with a gentle smile and went back to his spot on the couch only for Marinette to lay down across his lap.

He smiled gently at his little sister.  She seemed to understand how touched staved he was, but knew how it was awkward for him to be touched or held for long periods of times.  So, she would often just lay in his lap and let him control the amount of touch that happened, he would often just run his fingers through her hair, and when the roles were reversed she would do the same for him.  He liked being able to fall asleep to her gentle touches.  They may have only officially met about 3 months ago, but it felt like they’d known each other their entire lives even though they were separated.  Suddenly his computer began to fuzz out and…he knew Oracle’s work when he saw it.  He sighed tiredly and leaned his head on the back of the couch as his brothers’ faces popped onto the screen along with Oracle herself.  He had been ignoring their texts and calls all week, he should have seen this coming.

“Tim!  We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for weeks!  We could really use your help right now!”

Tim grumbled tiredly under his breath as Marinette stared at the screen that held the faces of Dick, Damian, and Barbara.

“Tt.  We don’t need the pretender’s help, we’re just fine on our own.  In fact we’re better off without him completely.”

The small boy with green eyes said.  She glared at the screen and she could tell her friends were glaring as well.  Before Tim could do or say anything she snatched the laptop and made sure her face showed through the camera.

“What the-“

“Who are you?”

“Shut. Up.”

Marinette said darkly as she glared at the screen.  Damian went to open his mouth but she beat him to the punch.

“You will never, and I mean never call my brother that again.  And none of you have even noticed where he’s been!  None of you are worried about him?!  All you care about is what he can give you, what he can do for you, right?”

It was silent on the other end, everybody shocked at the words she was saying, specifically the “brother” part.

“I’ve dealt with people like you before.  Always wanting something, always asking, never caring about the person doing it.  You just expect it to be done even if they have other things they need or have to do.  And when it isn’t done you guilt or shame him, don’t you?!”

It was silent and she could tell she was right by the way two of them went pale, the other just crossed his arms and looked away definitely.

Her team was coming up to the camera and they made sure that the people saw their faces.

“Never call here again unless it’s for an apology or it’s the end of the world.  He's ours, and I’m going to make sure he’s protected from people like you.”

Then she shut the laptop.  Tim looked at his little sister and her, no, their friends with shock and utter joy.  He could feel warm tears begin to flow down his face and his family…yea, family were hugging him and reassuring him.  He loved it here, and he was so thankful he found his little sister.  He could share anything with her, and she never judged him, in fact she just up and helped him.  He made sure he did the same for her, and they often spent late nights working together and helping each other.

“Thank you Bean, and everyone.  Thank you.”

“We love you too Tim-Tam.  We'll always be here.  Because family don’t shake hands.”

“Family hugs.”

He finished.  It was a joke as after the first time they met before he left he held out his hand for a handshake, but instead she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.  Yea, he loved his family, and he was happy that they were always there for him.

Next

Taglist:

@aespades @adrestar @astrynyx @doll246 @queenz-z @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin @seraphichana @miraculous-ninja @dorkus-minimus @mysticsoulgirl @ritacrow-blog @snow-leopard-777 @fidget-eep @sometandomstuff333 @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @shreeing @achaoticmess1

#maribat #sibling au #twin au #twin timari #sibling timinette #timinette #timari #marinette dupain cheng #marinette drake #tim drake #angst #fluff #found family #cute #mlb x batman #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #chloe sugar #chloe redemption #ask

[auraticere]

Chasing More Than Ghosts: Bonus Chapter #2

Hello, everyone!

I hope you enjoy this bonus chapter!

I apologize for the delay! I've been socially busy with somebody for a little bit and now I'm back with another bonus chapter! :)

Masterlist

POST-STORY REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND NORMAL ONE-SHOTS ARE AVAILABLE TOO!!! :)

Taglist: @catswag22 @santasbitch @rosecml @mar-romanova @i-m-r-borges @lorsstar1st @nameforthemain @hazey-g

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 5.5 | Chapter 6, Part 1 | Chapter 6, Part 2 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Bonus Chapter #1

Word Count: 1.1k

It's a bit shorter than usual. Sorry.

After you three wake up, you start planning your dream house with your loves - carefully laying out every single little detail. Your cottage would have modern technology, but not to the point where every quality-of-life was digital. There were mentions of a wood-fire stove, grills, smokers, pellet stoves, etc. You explained each of those things so that they could make an informed decision. This was going to be a common theme. Wanda settled on a wood pellet stove, and Nat delighted in having a smoker and a grill. From what you hear, Nat will be the main cook just like in the old times, except now she has unlimited possibilities and recipes at her fingertips.

You looked online for purchasable forest land with an area for building and found a few that might interest you and your girlfriends. The first one you spotted was a lot filled with sparse birch trees and dead grass but had good land to plant. Here’s the thing, you wanted that perfect cottage life, and for that to happen, you needed plentiful, healthy trees and good soil with plenty of space. You scrolled down a few more pages before finding a property that might be what you were looking for. Lush grass, tall, healthy oak trees for miles around, and town isn’t far away, allowing you easy access to groceries.

“What about this one? It’s perfect; I mean, the vibes are immaculate! It’s quiet, with oak trees and dirt for gardening!” you exclaimed, excitedly pointing to the available pictures. 

Wanda and Nat look at each photo carefully, zooming in on certain parts of the lot, ensuring that it would be safe and secure. They are far beyond anxious - afraid possibly - of moving out and you not being protected at all times. It’s a fair point considering that they left you alone for more than ten minutes, and you were burned alive in the town’s square thanks to Agatha’s mind manipulation magic. 

Considering previous events, Wanda mentions using magic but goes back on it as magic would do more harm than good. In fact, Wanda would instead not use her magic for anything. If Wanda could get rid of her magic, she would in a heartbeat; there’s an issue; she has always used magic to protect you, and having an extra layer of security would put her at ease, but her scarlet magic is bound to the soul. Natasha lightly suggests the use of magic yet refuses to pressure Wanda. 

As Wanda and Nat talk, you look over the fine details of the land and hum contently with what you see. Wanda perks up and smiles, “Oooh!” Wanda lowered herself to your shoulder, “Is this where we’re settling, my detka?” she kissed your cheek.

“I think it is, love. Alright, I must make arrangements with Otto and see if I can still access the funds after my hunt.” You happily said. Natasha pats your head as she plants a lingering kiss on your neck’s soft spot.

“Mmm, can’t wait to start our next big journey together, malyshka.” Both hug you from behind, and in turn, you grab their arms in an attempt to embrace backward.

“Me too,” you paused for a moment to take their scent in, “Is that my perfume, Wanda?”

Wanda’s hold loosens considerably, “N-no?”

“Mhm…I don’t mind, Wanda; it’s a great perfume.”

“No, I - I put it on….” Nat chuckles, nearly giggling, “I smell so pretty!” She smelled her hoodie and sighed happily, “It smells…like you…mmm.”

You blushed as you sat in front of your laptop, trying to stay focused on the fine print of the property. Wanda leaves you and wraps her arms around Nat’s waist, towering over her, “Y/N’s perfume is perfect for you.” Wanda kisses Natasha’s lips passionately and with feverish intent. Natasha’s left hand is on Wanda’s back while her right is sliding down her lower back to her ass, gently squeezing, and Wanda’s breath hitches - almost dispelling the kiss, but Natasha pulls Wanda in deeper.

“It does have pheromones…” you muttered, almost scoffing.

Natasha momentarily stops the kiss, earning a whine from Wanda, “Tsk, tsk, my my, Y/N…someone sounds a little jealous.”

You quickly look down, hiding your red face, “Me? Jealous? No way…psh.”

Wanda and Nat turn to each other, impishly smirking - and exchange a knowing look. They break the embrace, and Nat stalks over, “What did we say about hiding from us, dorogoy?” Nat breathily spoke, seduction strong in her voice. Her hot, heavy breath made you shiver with a sudden warmth surging through your body. It has been quite some time since anybody has made you feel this way, flustered and hot. Nat was, and still is, quite the teaser.

Natasha grabs your chin and lifts your head to face her directly, “We said, ‘don’t hide that beautiful face from us, malyshka, not ever.’ Remember that?”

Wanda approaches too, “Look at her, Natty…aww, she’s so red!”

You squealed delightfully, “You two are such a flirty bunch, aren’t you?”

“Always have been, detka,” Wanda replied as she looms over you. 

Nat feels daring and sits down on your lap, holding your head to her chest, “Dorogoy, it’s time for bed…you’ve been looking at all this…boring stuff all day…mmm…spend s’more time with us.” she pouted.

Your eyes had grown heavy and burned from the blue screen rays; you probably should have turned on the night light option to shield your eyes. Your y/e/c eyes darted to your computer’s clock and saw that five hours had passed, and it was now 11:00 pm. You could easily stay up later due to your occupation. Still, you are currently surrounded by two alluring and welcomingly warm wives who were desperate to coddle and cosset you in bed.

A yawn escapes you, your body seemingly betraying you as you want to stay up longer. Wanda hears your loud, determined thoughts, “Y/N, darling, come to bed with us!” she whispered, pretending to use her magic.

“Nooo,” you protested, “Not yet….”

Natasha ups her ante, “Y/N…you need your precious sleep; remember what the doctors said?”

“I’m fine…Nat, shhh, you need the sleep - not me.” another yawn betrays you, tired tears trickle down your face. Nat wipes away every tear with her thumb, smirking.

“You are so damn adorable, you know that right?” Wanda smiled.

In your sleepy stupor, you murmured loud enough for only Nat to hear, “You’re adorable-er.” 

Nat lets you go and is at her feet, “Come on, let’s go!” Nat picks you up off your desk chair  with ease, then places you in the middle of the bed, “You need all the z’s you can get!”

Wanda locks the door with her magic and follows suit, crawling over you so that she can be closest to the wall. Nat takes her usual spot on the edge and to her surprise finds you and Wanda instantly asleep. Nat snickers before submerging herself under the covers waiting to fall into a dreamful sleep of your future.

Request #3

Might be a bit before posting another chapter.

Would you guys like to see an ABO fic in the future, not sure if it should be a Wanda x reader, Nat x reader, or wandanat x reader?

#wanda maximoff x reader #natasha x reader #wanda x reader #dark!wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x you #dark!natasha romanoff x reader #dark!natasha x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda x natasha #wanda fluff #wanda x you #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff #dark natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha x fem!reader #dark!wanda x reader #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #dark!natasha romanoff #dark!wanda maximoff

[ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole]

Pix, where's your couch?

Some fluff to counter all the angst I've read in the last 24hrs. (Silly move as made myself cry - too many talented writers out there breaking my heart). Or at least if not fluff no angst.

Probably more a teen and up fic than general but still fairly clean (I think... I rubbish at knowing what ratings etc really).

Masterlist

...............................................

Jason stared at the space in the middle of the room.

“Pix, where’s your couch?”

“Hmmm, Jay?”

“I know you said that I could crash at your place again, so, umm, where’s the couch?”

“Oh, It had one to many blood stains so I got rid of it. You always said it was like sleeping on rocks anyway, so I’ve ordered a new one. It’s arriving next week.”

Marinette beamed up at Jason, bouncing on her toes with excitement while she grabbed his hand.

“It’s so pretty, Jay. I’m so happy that I finally could get rid of the old one and get a new beautiful comfy amazing sofa. You should see the pattern on the material. Oh oh and the detail on the frame. Hang on! I'll see if I can find a picture… you have to see it."

Marinette suddenly dropped his hand in favour of dashing about her apartment hunting for the picture as Jason's eyes darted between the chaotic woman and the space where the couch should be. Yes he'd asked to crash at her place in the past and always moaned that the couch was the worst thing to sleep on ever, but it was better than having to be near his family when he wanted to hide. Aaand he also might have come round earlier in the week before heading back to the cave to get some wounds seen to for an easier journey… but still had he really left the couch in such a state she decided to finally listen to his advice and get a new one?

"Pix, that's great and all but umm, where am I going to sleep?"

"In my bed, silly. It's the only other place."

Jason groaned and dragged his hand down his face. He knew what was going to happen next.

"Pix, darling, sweetheart, where are you going to sleep? You can't work all night which I know you love doing. You need to rest too. Look, I'll just call Roy up again and see if I can crash at one of his safe houses. Bruce is less likely to know about those."

"Jay, I'll just sleep next to you. The bed's big enough for the both of us. It'll be fine so you don't need to call Roy."

"What?!"

"It'll be fine. We can share the bed for the night. Now go dump your stuff in my room and I'll make us some dinner."

Jason grimaced as he knew there was no escaping. Roy, the arsehole, would tease him mercilessly if he didn't stay, and if he went he'd hurt Marinette's feelings as she'd offered up her home, her bed, for him to hide.

…………

"Jay, you're as stiff as a dead body. This is meant to be relaxing. If you don't want to watch this film we can sit on my dining room chairs and watch the TV out there. Or I can find some cards so we can play games at the table?"

"Nope, this is fine, Pix."

"Really? Then relax. You don't need to be so tense."

Jason took a deep breath and slowly let it out and forced himself to loosen his muscles and sink into the comfort of Marinette's bed. Apparently, due to having no seating in her living room, she'd taken to watching stuff on her laptop in bed if she wasn't working. Now the pair were both sitting on her bed watching some film she'd selected. Suddenly she trilled next to him.

"Ooo I know what will help. I bought some decent wine back from France with me after visiting my parents. I'll go get it. It's much nicer than the stuff I've found here. You'll love it Jay. It's the perfect thing to help us destress from the week."

Before Jason could respond she'd danced out the room, giggling to herself about her 'great' idea.

Jason swore to himself. He could do this. It wasn't a big deal. He could control himself. He could sit 'very' close and sleep next to his crush. It was only a crush. Not love. In her bed. It won't be that hard. He just needed to keep his cool. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out a strategy to survive the night.

Before he had mentally formalised his survival plan Marinette burst back into the room, glasses and wine in hand, only to trip on her bedroom rug and crash face first into his lap. Miraculously saving the wine and glasses. Jason carefully removed them from her grasp as she turned to peer up at him wide eyed, face dangerously close to where it currently shouldn't be for his sanity.

"Oops. I keep doing that. I really should move that rug. Sorry Jay."

Jason let out an inaudible whine and closed his eyes slowly counting to 10. This was going to be as hard as he originally thought it was going to be.

"S'okay, Pix. Just get up so we can have the wine and watch the film."

Awkwardly smiling at Jason, Marinette detangled her legs and climbed over him to get settled next to him again. Carefully she took the wine bottle off him to open and poured some into the glasses he held out for her. After putting the bottle on her bedside table, she turned her attention back to Jason and the film.

"Now we can relax properly. Guessing you're not ready to vent about Bruce yet."

"Nah, not really. You're making an effort to cheer me up and distract me so don't want to bring the evening down. And don't look at me like that! This is perfect Pix, a much better way to relax. If I wanted to vent I'd go punch and shoot scum. Do *you* want to vent about your latest commission though?"

She looked guiltily at him, "Do you mind?"

Jason looked softly at her and smiled, "Go ahead Pix."

Suddenly it was like a dam had opened and she was telling him about the ridiculous demands expected of her. The issues with the material. How her sewing machine was not playing ball and likely needed a service or replacement part soon.

Jason gazed fondly at his friend (crush) nattering animatedly away. With wine in hand he relished the soft warmth of the room. She was right about the wine helping to relax, the film long forgotten as they chatted away enjoying the safe space she had created under the glow of the fairy lights.

It was only when the film had stopped that they were drawn out of their discussions.

"Oh! We kinda missed that film huh?"

"Yup, Pix we did. And we've finished that bottle as well."

"I'll set another film up, did you want to change and do your ablutions while I set it up."

"Change?" Jason squawked out.

Marinette turned to glare at him. "Yeah, change. You're not sleeping in my bed in jeans Jay. So go change. I'll sort myself in a minute too."

Jason reluctantly left to go to the bathroom and quickly changed. After cleaning his teeth he splashed cold water in his face. He had managed so far. He'd resisted brushing her hair out her face. He'd resisted pulling her close as she leant on his shoulder as she laughed. He resisted kissing her when she pouted when telling her story.

He could do this.

As he returned Marinette slipped out telling him to sort the bed out for them to lie down for the next film. The stars had long since come out and Jason begrudgingly agreed that there was a high chance that they 'could' fall asleep in the next one. (Okay, it was a low chance given his nightly antics and her insomnia but he'd play along with her belief.)

Jason had settled, still sitting in the bed but under covers this time as Marinette re-emerged.

She was trying to kill him.

He had played nice wearing a vest and joggers. She, Marinette, had dressed to kill in just an oversized T-Shirt that hung off her shoulder and brushed the tops of her thighs.

Jason squeezed his hands into fists as she carefully this time manoeuvred around the room, showing off her long legs. Apparently she had a late growth spurt and finally took more after her father than her mother now. Breaking his gaze from her legs as she moved round the other side of the bed he sent her a tight smile as she climbed in next to him.

"You all set for the next film?"

"mm hmm"

As she lent forward to press play, Jason darted his eyes to the ceiling. Marinette turned around to see Jason staring up and laughed.

"Jay, that's sweet and all but I do have sleep shorts on. You'd not see my underwear. Plus you're my friend. I trust you."

"You couldn't have warned me!"

"Nah, seeing your reaction was funny. Now shhh film time."

Sitting back, Marinette grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders and smoothed the duvet down before resting her head against Jason's shoulder snuggling into his arm. She smiled and sighed in contentment as she lost herself in the film.

Jason's blue screened for a moment as his friend cuddled into his arm. He knew she often did this on the couch but still having her do this in bed, in her pajamas, was another matter. He should have been better prepared. He had thought his mission earlier was a challenge. It had now reached monumental difficulty. Feeling her warm breath dance across his arm. Clear smell of her fading perfume. Hearing her slight murmurs to herself as she focused on the plot playing out before them. It took a ridiculous amount of his strength to remain relaxed and try to focus on the film.

He almost lost it as Marinette drowsily started to slowly stroke the bare skin of his arm.

"Come on Pix, let's lay down. You're hardly awake currently. I'll turn the film off for us."

".. mmm.. no... I'm.. I'm awake..you're so hot… *yawn* nice and safe... and toasty… I .. I can..*yawwwwn* fin..esh fim.."

Jason choked when said she was hot until he realised that she meant he was warm. Carefully he extracted his arm from her octopus grip and got her lying down, before turning the film off. He left one set of fairy lights on as knew Mariette disliked sleeping in the dark.

Taking a moment to steal himself, Jason watched as Marinette buried herself deeper into the blankets and duvet. He had checked whether it'd be ok to top and tail the bed earlier, Marinette's glare at the suggestion and the insults about his 'big stinking smelly gross' feet being near her face pushed that option out the window pretty quickly. Especially with some of the creative insults thrown in as well.

Despite all his nerves feeling like they were on fire, Jason slowly crawled back in the bed to settle. The soft lighting, the quiet sound of Marinette breathing, the warmth embracing him, Jason suddenly felt all his energy escape. Forcing himself to relax was tiring. Holding himself back was exhausting. The week had been draining. Surprisingly quickly Jason succumbed to sleep.

…………

Jason woke to light filtering into the room. He felt unusually well rested and content. A warm fuzzy happy feeling that he'd not felt in such a long time flowed through him. Sighing he went to turn only to find that he couldn't move.

Sluggish memories and realisations started to speed up and come to the forefront of his mind. That he was sleeping in Marinette's bed. Next…. Under!?!?! Marinette.

It appeared that Marinette had somehow in the night starfished face down across the bed and now her face was resting across his chest. Her hair was a bird's nest of tangles cascading down to his arm. One hand had a razor clam of a grip on the bottom of his shirt unwilling to let go. One leg was tangled up with his.

It would have been a surprise and embarrassing if he hadn't witnessed putting Marinette to bed as a tiny curled up ball to discover her in the morning sprawled out across the bed in a similar fashion to this. Except this time he was semi pinned down by her. He would say the only embarrassment was that he'd forgotten she got like this. And no other reason at all.

As Marinette still slept, Jason's brain slowly woke more and more. He took on his sleeping friend and admired the peace that was on her face. The lack of stress that graced her features. She was gorgeous normally but at this moment she looked ethereal. Jason basked in the morning warmth slowly threading his fingers through her hair to detangle the large knots. He could get used to this. Too used to this. The comfort. The simplicity. The domestic-ness of it all.

Lost in his own thoughts he didn't notice Marinette stir and blearily looked at him with one eye open.

"Mor'n Jay," a croaked voice drew his attention back to his friend lying across his chest, "Di'ja sleep k?"

"Yeah, Pix," came his soft reply, "best night sleep in a while. I understand why you had the lumpy stone of a couch now. You spent all your cash on this cloud of a bed. How did you sleep?"

She turned her face completely into his chest and he felt her chuckle against him before shifting herself so she was now lying curled up next to him, her face closer to his as she rested against his shoulder.

"Best in ages. No nightmares. At all. Never get nightmares when next to you. You make the cloud bed perfect, Should get you to stay in it forever."

Jason turned to gawk at the woman whose eyes remained closed as curled up against him, "Pix, you can't just say things like that!"

"What? Wha'ja mean? What did I say?"

"Saying that I made your bed perfect. That you want me to stay here forever. It gives the whole wrong impression."

"But I meant it, Jay. Last night I slept all the way through because of you. I love being with you. So why wouldn't I want you around?"

Slowly opening her eyes Marinette leant forward and up to kiss his chin before giggling as she moved away.

"Pix, you're killing me here."

"With what weapon? We're in bed and your weapons are next to you, not me…. And why would I kill you?"

Twisting so he could face her properly, Jason gazed as his semi drowsy friend in soft whispered tones said.

“By making it hard not to ruin our friendship. I love what we have now and I don’t want to lose it.”

“What do you mean? You won’t ruin our friendship. We’ve been through too much for it to be ruined.”

“By doing something stupid.”

“Stupid?”

Her eyes widened as she looked at him in puzzlement, more awake than moments earlier. She pursed her lips trying to figure out what he was trying to say was stupid, unconciously drifting closer to him.

“Yeah, something really stupid.”

“Oh… the only thing really to ruin our friendship would be to leave or betray me… you’re not going to be that stupid are you?”

“No, I don’t want to leave you. Ever really. Being like this is perfect. I… I love being with you… you’re my best friend, just don’t tell Roy that.”

Marinetre softly smiling at Jason, “Ok. I won’t. This is almost perfect, but… did you know what would make it better?”

With their foreheads now touching, in the warmth of the blankets and duvets and filtered light pouring in the window, Jason shook his head. He couldn't figure out what she meant to be better. The moment felt like a perfect dream to him.

"No. What would make this better?"

"If you kissed me."

It took a few seconds for Jason's brain to process the words before it was like the dam had burst, all the restraint he'd used in the last 12 hours, for the last number of months, collapsed. Jason leant forward capturing Marinette's lips with his own.

One of her hands reached up and tangled into his hair as the other rested on his chest. His wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. They lost themselves in the moment as they deepened the kiss while pouring their emotions into it, showing their feelings they have been too afraid to say out loud.

Eventually, they parted breathing heavily. Marinette gave a breathy chuckle.

"Finally."

"Huh?"

"It only took you the whole night, then to be told to do that."

"What?!"

Jason's brain struggled to work out what Marinette was saying. His current focus was more on the sensation of holding Marinette so close. His lips still tingled from her kissing her. It was only because her hand moved to cradle his cheek and she kissed his nose that his attention was drawn back to her.

"Jay, you sweet Doofus, I've been flirting with you for months. You've not noticed what's so ever so drastic measures needed to be taken."

"You've been flirting with me???"

"Yes. Even Roy noticed, he helped me with this."

"You mean this was planned?!?"

"Yup. Completely planned. And Roy even helped me get rid of the couch."

"You planned a 'there's only one bed' situation? Sneaky Pix, that's sneaky."

"Worked didn't it. Plus you love the cliche troupes. Don't deny it."

Jason leaned in close to Marinette, a breath away from her.

"Can't deny it, but we've got months of idiocy to catch up on."

With that Marinette closed the gap to capture his lips. They had the rest of the day to work out and discuss how they felt, right now, right now was for kissing and cuddling in bed. Who knew all that together she just needed to replace her couch.

#maribat #maribat au #dc x mlb #ml x dc #dc x ml #mlb x dc #jason x marinette #marinette x jason #jasonette #one bed #fluff writing

[quietmyfearswith]

slipping into little space ; preferences

warnings — fluff?? mentions of nudity. hints a t sexy times

characters — andy barber, steve rogers, bucky barnes, lance tucker,  syverson, august walker

a/n — THIS IS A DDLG FIC,, was inspired by this ask! to the anon who requested for it i hope you like it and tell me what you think!

their love language | with their little | when you’re insecure

masterlist

Though the Thanksgiving dinner she was preparing was only for her and Andy, Y/N couldn’t help but stress and fret over almost every single thing; she wanted their first celebration of the said holiday to be perfect. Hence why she has been cooped up in the kitchen for almost the whole day, even though the dinner was still tomorrow. She baked a cheesecake and it was now cooling up in the fridge, the vegetable she decided to cut today so come tomorrow all she had to do was cook them, and now as she was marinating the turkey she found herself getting whiny and irritable. Andy entered their home quietly and observed his girl for a little while; her constant texts provided him updates about how hard she was working to perfect their meal tomorrow. And by the looks of it she had been working too much that her entire system was already begging for a break. “You okay in there, baby?” Hearing his voice caused Y/N to look up at him, her eyes glossy and her mouth curled up in a semi-convincing smile. Hanging his jacket by the coat hanger, he also dropped his briefcase by the door and sat on the couch.

“Come on over here, baby,”  He called for her and patted his lap. Y/N opened her mouth and was about to say no, but a stern look from Andy had her not continuing with that plan and instead she just removed her apron, leaving it on the counter, and plopping herself down on his lap. With her chest pressed against his, the lawyer then rubbed her back comfortingly, “I know you had a busy day; haven’t you, baby?” Hearing her mumble yes against his clothes, the man could only chuckle as he further coaxed her, “You can rest now, baby. You can stop being a big girl now; you can be my little missy again.” As if his words flipped a switch, she did find herself ridding of any remaining thoughts about their dinner and instead complied with his request — which was more like a demand. Peering up at him, her eyes were now wide but weren’t glossy, “Hi dada, I missed you.” Pleased with how his girl decided to let loose, Andy planted a deep kiss on her lips and after doing so he peppered kisses all over her face, “I missed you too, little missy. Now how ‘bout we both go take a bubble bath?”

One of August’s hobbies involved him fixing up his bike or adding whatever gadget he felt would look good on his bike. And since he was given a few weeks off, he took the time to get his hands oily and tinkle with his bike — but really the only reason why he was busying himself with the said vehicle was because his lovely girlfriend was busy with her own workload. Wiping his sweat with the shirt he had earlier discarded, August glanced at the clock and saw how it was already nearing the time they usually ate supper. Once entering the inside of their home, he headed straight for the office and was surprised to hear muffled cries coming from the room. Years of doing field work had allowed him to slip in easily without Y/N hearing him; he then listened closely to see if she had been talking to someone that made her cry, but after failing to hear her or someone else make a sound besides her sniffles, it was then that the CIA agent decided to intervene, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

Her shoulders rose up and down in shock from her boyfriend’s sudden presence — by now she should have been used to his stealthily ways, but her crying lowered down her guard. She weakly pointed to her desk where pens, highlighters, papers, folders, and her laptop were scattered, “Work just got to me; it’s silly.” August, however, didn’t think of it that way and instead was worried his girl might have been overworking herself. Walking towards her, he grabbed both her hands so she could stand, “You’ve been such a good girl huh? Doing her work and working hard,” Part of Y/N was glowing from the praise and reveling in it; while the other part of her was going to complain to him how she still had more work to do. But just as she was going to do so, August lifted her chin so he could look at her, “How bout we eat dinner, hm? What would you like, little one? Some dino nuggies?” At the mention of her favorite food, she nodded her head up and down as she squealed, “Yes, daddy, I want some dino nuggies for supper!” Smiling he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her away from her cause of stress and into the kitchen, “Alright then, some dino nuggies for my little one only because she’s been such a good girl; perhaps a sippy cup as well and some ice cream sandwiches for desert.”

Bucky remembered how he needed some more hair ties for his long hair; Sam somehow thought it was a bright idea to involve his hair ties for one of his pranks wars with Scott. As he and Y/N were on the hair product aisle, he ordered her to stay put by the cart as he quickly grabbed what he was looking for. Though she wasn’t permitted to walk around, her eyes did the wandering and once she had set her sight on a My Little Pony shampoo. She was able to hold herself back from physically cooing at it; Bucky placed some of the hair tie packets on the cart and noticed how his girlfriend’s eyes were trained onto something. “You want that, sweetheart?” Shocked with how casually he offered it to her, she found herself nodding with excitement. Chuckling, the super soldier grabbed a few bottles into their cart and told her how they should get going to pay and go home already.

As they both had paid already for their grocery items and were now driving to their home. “Thank you for buying me that shampoo.” Bucky nodded as he began driving, placing a hand on her thigh, “You can let loose now, sweetie. We’re going home now,” And with that Y/N found herself playing with his hand, a telltale that she was beginning to let herself become little again. “I love you, tătic, I can’t wait for our bath time later.” As they were stopped by a relight, Bucky reached over and planted a kiss on her forehead, “Me too, sweetie; but don’t forget about our playtime alright?”

When Y/N found out that Steve volunteered to be the overall head for the Avengers’ Thanksgiving outreach program, she decided to help along and shoulder half of the responsibilities that had been put on the hero’s shoulder. Which led them to the current situation they were in — they both were sorting out the food that had been cooked by the other team members and agents. “Okay, turkey, veggies, pasta,” Y/N listed out as she put the food in the bag and laid out in front of Steve so that he could place a greeting card on the basket before wrapping it up. “This makes it the 100th basket we did,” Steve took note as he was preparing the next card. 

The next few minutes were filled with hums from the two as a song played on the background while continuing on with their duties. Perhaps it was how repetitive the task got or tired Y/N was in overlooking the whole program, she was too far absent in her mind that she dropped some of the potatoes and made quite a mess. Looking over to Steve, she quickly apologized, “I’m sorry, Steve! I didn’t mean to drop it, I just got tired and was distracted.” Quickly putting down the cards he was holding, he made his way to over where she was and hugged her tight, “I know it was an accident, doll,” He felt his sweater dampen slightly with her tears, he didn’t want her to stop her crying but instead just let her cry out her frustrations. “I might have pushed you to work too much, doll.” She lifted her head up from where it rested on his chest and looked up at him, “You didn’t sir; I just wanted to help you.” Wiping the remainder of her tears, he was quick to counter, “And you were a big help, doll. But it’s time we both took a quick nap before continuing our work, okay? You’ve been such a good doll for me.”

Following Sy’s retirement from the army, he and Y/N decided to accomplish step one of their settling down plan and go buy a house. The move from their apartment to the detached bungalow they purchased had been a big one; but one they absolutely loved and looked forward to. Their new home had been filled with boxes — some were the things they brought from their old residence, while the others were newly purchased furnitures and appliances. “Hey Y/N are our clothes upstairs or in here?” Sy wondered after he walked through the first floor and didn’t catch a glimpse of the bag that contained their clothes. “Shit, hold on I’ll check,” She mumbled to herself and looked at the small notebook she had which contained the information about their move. Upon realizing that the mentioned bag would arrive tomorrow afternoon due to a mix up with the moving company, she could only groan out loud, “God, I’m such an idiot!”

Sy heard her from where she was currently sitting on the floor and pulling her hair out from the pantry, “What’s going on, baby girl?” There was an intention as to why the former Captain had dropped that pet name on her; he was already sensing how the whole move had overwhelmed Y/N and that she was reaching her limit of handling it. It was his way of allowing her to destress and engage in her comfort zone. “I’m sorry Captain, there was a mix up and the bag that had our clothes will be brought here tomorrow. The bags that are in the room are the linens for the bed,” She sobbed out and feared that he’d punish her for stupidity. But that wasn’t what was on the veteran’s mind as he crouched down in his knees and held his girl tight, “It’s okay baby girl, today was real stressful for the both of us,” Feeling her nod against him, he tried his best to reassure her that the day’s gone and it was time to rest, “Don’t worry about the clothes okay? At least they’ll be arriving tomorrow.” Kissing the top of her head, Y/N then asked softly, “What do we do now then?” Lifting her chin with a finger he smirked at her, “Well we can go put some linen and blankets in the bed; then we get to cuddle and sleep naked. How’s that sound, baby?”

When Lance brought up that he wanted to give little tokens of appreciation to his gymnasts for Thanksgiving, Y/N brought up that there were a lot of cute items that his students would love. They both were spending their afternoon on the couch; Lance was watching old performance videos of the gymnasts he was training as well as those of the competitors they were up against. While his girlfriend laid her head on his shoulder, scrolling through Etsy and bookmarking some gifts that stood out to her. There were also a few items that she saved that were things she liked — a stuffie, blanket, sippy cups or some pajamas. As she let out a whine about how cute the items were, the gymnastics coach paused the video he was watching and looked to his side, “What’s that all about?”

Pushing her phone to his sight, Y/N pouted, “I was looking at some gift ideas for your students but somehow I ended up looking at these little space items.” The man beside her chuckled as he took the phone and looked at some of the products she saved, “My angel wants some gifts too, huh?” Bashfully nodding her head, Y/N whispered, “Yes, papa, I do want some.” Swiping through some of the ideas she found he then declared, “And gifts you shall receive, since you’ve been a great help to me all the time, angel.” Y/N then shot up from where she was sitting and litter kisses on Lance’s face, repeatedly thanking him for generosity.

#quietmyfearswith #andy barber x reader #daddy!andy barber x little!reader #august walker x reader #daddy!august walker x little!reader #bucky barnes x reader #daddy!bucky barnes x little!reader #steve rogers x reader #daddy!steve rogers x reader #captain syverson x reader #daddy!syverson x little!reader #syverson x reader #lance tucker x reader #daddy!lance tucker x little!reader #henry cavill x reader #chris evans x reader #sebastian stan x reader #daddy!chris evans x little!reader #daddy!henry cavill x little!reader #daddy!sebastian stan x little!reader

[no-stabbing-wednesdays]

The Conspiracy Job

I made a post about the “Eliot’s semi-famous identities” conspiracy here and @what---i-dated-a wanted a fic, which got my muse going. So, here it is, and also on AO3

An amazing version of the same concept by @copperbadge was linked in the notes and I recommend you all read that too! The Job Interview Job

The Conspiracy Job

“Oh, not again!”

The others, busy drawing up plans for their latest con, looked over at Hardison. 

“What is it?” Sophie asked.

He brought his display up on the large screen at the front of the room. 

“Someone’s just searched a bunch of Eliot’s old aliases, all at the same time.”

Parker frowned as she looked at the screen. “That doesn’t sound good.”

Eliot was on his feet immediately, concern clear on his face.

“Who is it? CIA? FBI? KGB? Mossad?”

“Give me a second,” Hardison said. “No, I don’t think so. They’re not being flagged on any databases. Someone’s just googling them.”

Eliot relaxed slightly and rolled his eyes. “It’s not those damn conspiracy forums, is it? I thought you got rid of those.”

“I did! They haven’t posted anything, they’re just looking. Oh, they’re here in Portland.”

Eliot tensed again at that, but Hardison shook his head.

“Relax, man. It’s a family house; a couple of dentists and a fifteen year old. If they post anything I’ll take it down, nothing to worry about.”

On the other side of Portland, Julia stepped into her friend Marcie’s bedroom and her eyes widened as she took in the scene before her. Marcie was connecting red threads between grainy, printed-out images on her corkboard and empty bottles of Gatorade littered the desk.

“You have to cool it with this, dude.”

Marcie turned to face her, her hair a mess and her eyes red from lack of sleep, and Julia sighed.

“You look like freaking Charlie Kelly!”

“There’s something here, Jules. I’m sure of it.”

“It’s a couple of athletes and a singer who happen to look similar. It’s hardly the scoop of the century.”

“Look similar? Look similar? Julia, they are completely identical! There are exactly three possibilities.” She held up three fingers in her friend’s face as she counted them off. “Triplets, clones or one ridiculously talented guy.”

“Okaaay, and which one do you think it is?”

“I don’t know,” Marcie answered, turning back to her board. “Triplets? Why would they have different names and hide it? One guy? He’d have to be able to sing and play guitar, baseball and hockey. Why wouldn’t you own up to having that kind of talent? Why go to different places with different names? Clones? I’m leaning clones.”

“Clones? Come on, Marcie.” 

“It’s the most logical explanation.”

“You think someone cloned a human being just to create a one-hit-wonder country singer and some short lived athletes?”

Marcie shrugged. “It could be a trial run or an experiment or something. And you remember that anything I ever said on the forums would mysteriously vanish? I went to look after Jacques Labert turned up and every single forum post was gone! Every one! Doesn’t that sound like a government conspiracy to you?”

“It’s weird,” Julia admitted. “But I think you might be taking this a little too far. If the government were making clones, why would they let them get famous so people could discover it?”

“But they weren’t that famous. Think about it, what were the chances that someone would connect them? There were only ever a couple of us posting on the forums. If I hadn’t happened to be visiting my uncle in Palmerston when Roy Chappell was playing and then gone to Saddle and Spurs for my birthday, I’d never have known.” 

Her eyes widened as a horrifying thought occurred to her . “Then Jacques Labert turned up in my city! What if I’m the connection?”

She swung back to the board and began to write her own name. Julia grabbed her hand.

“Marcie! You’re not the center of a government conspiracy! Besides, who’s this fourth guy again?” She asked, tapping one of the photos in the corner. “You didn’t have anything to do with him, did you?”

“No,” Marcie conceded. “And I told you about him, remember? He’s an animal rights activist who was on the news in San Lorenzo a couple of years ago, talking about dog fights in the Presidential Palace. And he’s Canadian. That’s why it’s so exciting that, after almost two years of nothing new, Jacques Labert, Canadian hockey player, suddenly appears. Was the guy on the news Jacques Labert? If there really is more than one of them in the first place!”

Julia grimaced, increasingly worried about Marcie’s obsession with this wild conspiracy. “He was on the news where?”

“San Lorenzo. It’s this tiny European country. Here look.” Marcie sat at her desk, tapped the name into Google and turned her laptop towards Julia. 

Julia scrolled through a few pictures of the idyllic Mediterranean island, then stopped suddenly and pointed at one of them. 

“Wait, who’s that?”

“Oh, that’s Rebecca Ibañez. It’s a tragic story,” Marcie explained, as she clicked on the link and showed her some clearer pictures. “A couple of years ago, the same time maybe-Jacques Labert was there, there was an election and her fiancé won. But, just as the results were announced, supporters of the former president tried to assassinate him and Rebecca stepped in front and took the bullet for him.”

“She was assassinated?”

“Yes, isn’t it awful?”

Julia shook her head. “She can’t have been.”

“What?”

“She’s my brother Zachary’s acting teacher.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I went to see his play last week and I met her. Her name’s Sophie Devereaux and she’s definitely not dead.”

Marcie looked at her in amazement, a grin breaking out across her face . “And she was in San Lorenzo at the same time as Jacques-Roy-Kenneth! There might be even more to this than I thought!”

Julia, almost as invested as Marcie now that her brother’s odd director was mixed up in this, pulled up a chair and looked on excitedly as her friend brought up another google search. 

Back at the Brewpub, the crew were working out the kinks in their plan while waiting for any sign of the internet sleuth trying to share their ideas about Eliot’s multiple identities.

When the computer pinged again, they all turned to see which of his aliases had been flagged this time, only for their eyes to widen in horror as the search term flashed on the screen.

“Rebecca Ibañez” “Sophie Devereaux”

Sophie gave a gasp that almost turned into a choke. “Wha- wha- what?”

Eliot turned to Hardison, furious. “Oh sure, just dentists and a teenager! Fix. This.”

“I’m trying!” Hardison said. “I can’t find any connections to anything. They look clean.”

“Then look harder!”

Wait, I have something. It’s the kid’s computer.”

“Who’s the kid?” Nate asked.

Hardison pulled up a Facebook page. “Marcie Taylor. She’s a sophomore. She used to post on those stupid Eliot forums that I had to take down every week after Memphis. It was pretty harmless, but I’ve no idea why she’s suddenly looking at Sophie’s aliases.”

He scrolled down the page looking for any kind of hint, when Sophie called out to him to stop.

“Who’s that with her? She looks familiar.”

A few more clicks and Hardison had a name.

“Julia Gutmann. She’s in the same class.”

Gutmann?” Sophie groaned. “I know why she’s familiar. That’s Zachary’s little sister.”

“Zachary? Your acting student Zachary?” Nate asked disbelievingly.

“Yes, she came to our play last week.”

Nate shook his head. “I told you to use an alias at that theater.”

“But I wanted to do this as me,” Sophie protested.

Eliot turned back to Hardison. “So, let me get this straight. The aliases and digital trail that you set up to be uncrackable by international governmental organizations are about to be blown apart by a couple of high schoolers?”

Hardison glowered at him. “They’re only looking at old aliases and they were all burnt when we had to leave Boston anyway. It’s not that bad.”

“Sophie’s still using Sophie,” Eliot argued, nearly yelling now. “And I was only just Jacques Labert and in this city. Now they’ve tied me and her together. How did they even do that? That’s way more than some fifteen year old girls should be able to accomplish on Google.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t panic. They were looking at photos of San Lorenzo. That’s how they found a picture of Sophie."

Sophie glared at him.

"Hey!" he protested. "You're the one who jumped in front of the cameras! I can't control the entire internet you know, and I think the people of San Lorenzo would have noticed if every image of their martyred heroine suddenly vanished.

“It’s just bad luck that Julia had met you. But why were they looking at…” Hardison groaned. “They found that video of Eliot and the puppy somehow.”

“Why didn’t you take that down?” Eliot snapped.

“It’s a thirty second feature on the news from two years ago in a country smaller than Iceland! It wasn’t my top priority!”

“Dammit, Hardison!”

“So, our cover’s going to get blown by kids?” Parker asked, incredulously. 

“No,” Nate insisted. “Well, maybe. But we can manage this. Hardison, don't let them post anything. Sophie, call Zachary. Let’s go steal ourselves some silence.”

#leverage #eliot spencer #the eliot conspiracy #alec hardison #parker #sophie devereaux #nate ford #leverage fic #my fic #this is basically crackfic #purely dumb but hopefully entertaining

[missinghan]

falling for the first time ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : hogwarts au; fluff

❖ word count : 2,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language

❖ summary : your plan of putting all effort into avoiding bang chan as much as possible has been going smoothly for almost seven years until he asks you for a dance at the Yule Ball. or alternatively, your families hate each other but wait...has he always had those golden flecks in his eyes?

❖ author’s note : here’s the song they’re dancing to 🖤

one.

The once cold ballroom has waited for eons it seems, for a real heart to beat a new rhythm into the matter that made it. 

Meanwhile, you too have been waiting (for two-ish hours) in the corner with your cup of root beer abandoned at a table for your dance partner. You’re currently half-clutching your dress and half-panicking because Chan wouldn’t miss an event as extravagant as the Yule Ball. He’s not the type to be sour over little things either just because he didn’t win the Triwizard Tournament. Or perhaps someone else just happened to ask him? 

A blood-curdling shriek bursts your eardrums. 

Jeongin gives you a nudge with his elbow from behind. “Grilled scream-cheese?” he asks with a mouthful of gluten and carbs, a plate of a sandwich with a (literally) screaming slice of cheese slapped in the middle. 

“No, my appetite is ruined,” you say, pushing it away slightly and heaving an audible sigh. 

The Ravenclaw boy makes an alarming noise—something similar to ‘uh-oh’ and swallows the big bite from before as fast as he can. “Where’s Chan?”

You only shrug, “Don’t know. Don’t care.” If only you could do that with the train of thoughts that have been going in and out of your ears for the past a hundred and twenty minutes. 

“Y/N, you look troubled,” he purses his lips, frowning at you. 

“I’m not,” you voice in denial, trying your best not to come off as snappy. No, you will not give up your facade that easily. You won’t leave Chan’s ego nor Jeongin to rest without a fight by saying that you actually want to dance with the heathen!

“Yeah right, let me-“

“Don’t. What if he’s already asked someone else?” You momentarily shudder at how sad you sound. The root beer shouldn’t have hit you this hard. “I mean look at him, he’s Bang Chan. I’m pretty sure those girls from Beauxbatons have been eyeing him up and down since the Tournament.” 

Jeongin lets out a huff of laughter in disbelief. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?”

“One of you guys could have asked me. Or I should have paid Jisung to be my partner yesterday. I just, I don’t know, what am I saying? I’m confused.”

Your friend is officially done with your bullshit so he decides for himself that he will now set down his food to make your first and last Yule Ball arguably unforgettable. “Honestly? I can lie and say I would dance with you if you weren’t so full of pride. But truth is, none of us asked you to dance because we all know how badly Chan wants this opportunity. Wake the fuck up! He’s been planning this since forever. I’ll go look for him, wait here,” he points a finger at you before running off, leaving your heartbeat pause awkwardly like a broken record. 

The ballroom feels significantly colder now. 

“Miss Y/N?”

Ah, perfect timing. What’s another way to phrase ‘being an absolute idiot at a ball’? Oh right, it’s ‘talking to your professor five minutes before the first dance while your friends are socializing left and right’. 

“Yes, Headmistress McGonagall?”

Your professor peers around when she realizes that you’re all alone. “Are you and Mister Bang ready?”

“R-ready?” Suddenly, you feel out of place. 

“Well, of course. It’s only traditional that the three champions start the first dance!”

“Oh.”

two. 

Only the celestial bodies above can know how melancholy you are. But you’re met with a sky without stars tonight. 

With your head on your elbows, lips pressed into a straight line, your gaze falls from the endless canvas of darkness to the hustle and bustle of students leaving the Great Hall to head back to their designated dormitories. A sigh. You definitely don’t need to know what they’re going to do for the after-party. Ryujin used to show you an article on this peculiar machine called ‘a laptop’ that the more you sigh, the faster you age. If Chan keeps doing shit like this to you, you’re gonna be all old and wrinkly by the time he comes here. 

If he is going to show up at all that is. 

The moment you peel your eyes away from the overcrowded main gate, a broad figure is shuffling himself through his drunk Quidditch teammates, sloppy couples, and burnt out professors. He dashes through the empty hallways to reach the spiral staircase, skipping three steps at a time, risking the chances of falling on his face just to get to you. 

Pulling himself to a halt at the last step, Chan sees you all curled up against the balcony railings and feels a pang of guilt wash over his innards like a wave. You’re pulling your legs toward your chest, defeated eyes gazing into the space ahead while your hair falls to your face messily. Like you’ve gone through the depths of the Fourth Dimension, struggling through dark matters and a rite of divinity at the end of the line. All for him. 

You’re beautiful. 

And the amount of affection that’s piling upon his rib cage? Astronomical. 

Your gaze is averted away; even with a slight scowl, sloppy clothes and messed up hair, you still flare radiance. He thinks that if a meteor shower is happening right now, you can still outshine it. “You came,” you mention. 

For once, Chan finds himself at a loss for words. “Y-Yeah,” he manages to swallow. Yeah? What the fuck, Chan? Is that all you’ve got to say? 

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N. Yeji accidentally mistook one of Minho’s potions for her allergy medicine so I gotta take care of that before coming,” he scratches his forearm awkwardly, head hung low with guilt. “I didn’t know it would take that long…”

“Oh.” Wow, jealous stinks. This isn’t pre-school, you’d better snap out of it. “Let’s head back. I wanna check on her before passing out.” 

“She’s fine now, sleeps like death. Chaeryeong is there too, you know, just in case.” Chan feels perplexed as he tries to coax anything but the ‘head back’ option from you. 

You tilt your head. “And...?”

“I’m afraid you owe me something?” A slow smile begins to outstretch upon his facial muscles, deepening the dimples on either side of his cheeks that you adore the most. “A dance, I believe,” he makes a thinking face while striding toward you. 

Coldly, you stand up to dust your dress. “I don’t want to.” You’re not having it, he can tell. But does Bang Chan ever give up? 

“A bet is a bet, Y/N.”

Chan’s hand fishes inside the pocket of his trench coat to take out his wand. His hand delicately gives it a swift flick; once, and twice followed by a low mumble from his lips. Immediately, light pulses from the tip of the wand before shooting upward, disintegrating into a million bits as though a starry night is embracing the both of you. He does the same action again to cast a different spell. Music laces through every fiber of air without effort, like honey being poured into your ears. 

“It’s just one bet,” he pouts with a hand fully extended toward you. 

You should have realized how good Chan looks tonight. A black dress shirt that’s buttoned below appropriate, matching trench coat, silver accessories lining his fingers and ears with naturally tousled hair from running here. He looks so gorgeous that it almost suffocates you, that it almost makes you want to hiss ‘fucking unfair’ out loud. 

Enchanted by his poise and grace, your body reacts without the consent of your mind. You seize up when you unknowingly place your hand on top of his, the touch sending electricity down your spine. A simple response has become all too complicated for your brain to process. 

You grow breathless the moment he grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against him. “Yeah, a bet so you’ll leave me alone,” you remark sarcastically to ease your nerves. 

“Look, it’s not my fault that the Goblet of Fire chose me to participate in the Tournament,” Chan chuckles lowly, eyes crinkling into crescent moon shapes while he sways you to the soft melody. Dots of light continue to float around weightlessly, reflecting the golden flecks in his eyes. He’s ethereal in the worst way—the way that isn’t healthy for your heart. 

But you soon slap on another scowl when you realize he just reminded you of why you’re even here in the first place. If only you weren’t so salty about Slytherin winning your team over at the final Quidditch match before the holiday occurs. Let’s just say you weren’t exactly in the best mind state after getting your ass kicked in your favorite sport. 

And Chan wasted no time to slip in between the line of comical humor and your ultimate torment. Which results in—if you get to attend the Triwizard Tournament, he will leave you alone for the rest of your life; but if he is the chosen one, he gets a dance with you at the Yule Ball. 

It’s really not all that bad if you think twice about it. Dancing with Bang Chan, the Slytherin’s Quidditch team captain, the student with perfect academics and conduct for six years straight, and now one of the Triwizard Tournament champions this year. 

Music threads through the atmosphere and lifts away gravity. You can’t count how many times you have stepped on his toes due to nervousness because you’re too much of a coward to look him in the eye. But he’s the only thing you can seem to focus on right now. 

“Besides, don’t you think this is a good opportunity to get rid of the tension between us?” Chan asks honestly, and this causes you to perk up. 

“What?”

Lights are twinkling with every step as Chan spins you around gently, your dress billowing out prettily as your heels click against the cold concrete. After that, he swiftly pulls you back into his arms and you exhale in relief like you were meant to be there all this time. 

“Don’t act dumb, you’re terrible at it. I know the only reason why you’ve been avoiding me since first year was because of our families’ stupid grudge. ”

Your eyes are cast downward, sadness glinting in your round pupils. “Either way, my parents wouldn’t like to see me talking to you. And look at what we’re doing. It’s going to be catastrophic if they find out.”

“Well, they can’t just magically appear now, can they?” Chan leans a little closer to lock his eyes with yours. 

And you break it seconds later because you’re an absolute coward for a Gryffindor. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

“Did they even tell you what the actual problem was in the first place?” he huffs out in faint annoyance. 

You shake your head. “I don’t think they’d even remember.”

“Then would you stop giving me that look as if I just shooed your owl way every time I said ‘hi’ on my way to class? Have you ever thought about my feelings? About us being civil for once? Like friends? Or even more so?”

“I-“ 

“We’re not our parents, Y/N.”

Your heart becomes all erratic at his words. It’s nothing like those fully-fledged, tear-jerking nor cheesyass confessions that you’ve gawked at one too many times, but it makes your heart flutter and stirs up those cliché butterflies inside your stomach. This can’t be compared to the Yule Ball—it’s even better than that. Because it feels as though you and Chan are the only presences that graze the surface of this land. There’s no one to judge, no fingers to point, no gossip spreading like wildfire. 

It’s perfect. Almost. 

“Us...it’s not- it can’t happen. It’s not supposed to happen. It’s not possible, Chan.”

Wordlessly, he stops, moves both of your hands to his shoulders, and wraps his arms around your torso. The sound of your heartbeat against his is so in sync they just drown out the music completely. Time is frozen in place, leaving you to hang on the edge with him, hanging onto this single moment as thin as the red string of fate. You’re waiting for him to do something, say something. 

Just then, Chan cracks a wry smile and pulls you closer by the nape of your neck, resting his forehead comfortably on yours. “We’re attending a magic school. Anything is possible.”

#inkidz #skzwritersclub #stray kids #bang chan #stray kids imagines #bang chan imagines #stray kids scenarios #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fluff #stray kids hogwarts au #chan imagines #chan scenarios #skz x reader #chan x reader #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin

[sunrisefairy]

Let me take care of you

Pairing: George Weasley x reader Word Count: 2.1k Warning: NSFW! fingering, unprotected sex, female receiving oral, dirty talk, swearing  Summary: Y/N is feeling stressed from university so George decides he needs to help her relax.  A/N: I dunno, kind of very proud of this one. Tried something new and decided to write some smut. Think it turned out okay.  Taglist: I’m assuming these people would still like to be included in the taglist for smutty fics, please tell me if you would like to be taken off or added! @hufflepuff5972 @inglourious-imagines​ @georgeweasleyswhre​ 

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It was nearing the end of the school year which means the deadline for final assignments and exams were fast approaching. Y/N was in her final year of her psychology degree and had spent the majority of her time cramming in revision or working on some essay.

You could find Y/N either at her part time job at the local florist or at home, hunched over her desk with numerous opened textbooks and half-drunk coffee cups strewn around. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a lot of time recently for her boyfriend, George. He didn’t mind though, he knew how important getting good grades were to Y/N so he would help out where he could, mostly by making sure dinner was ready when she got home from work or running to the library when Y/N needed another textbook.

Normally he could convince Y/N to take a 15 minute break without much persuasion if he presented her with freshly baked cookies, they’d sit on the couch and munch on the treats while George played with her hair before she’d sigh and say she better get back to her essay. But for the past 2 weeks Y/N has hardly moved from the desk chair only getting up when she had work. George has found her on more than one occasion slumped over the many books and papers, lightly snoring because she fell asleep. As soon as George would try and guide her to bed, she’d jolt up and mumble about needing to keep studying.

George was starting to get worried for Y/N’s mental and physical health if she didn’t slow down and rest, no matter what he tried nothing seemed to work so he had one last trick up his sleeve.

Y/N was once again sitting at her laptop typing away frantically, she had gotten off of work at 5pm, scoffed down some dinner and immediately opened up a textbook. It was now 10:45pm and Y/N had no plans on taking a break soon.

“Georgie babe, can you grab me another coffee?” Y/N called out over her shoulder.

George ignored her request and came up behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders massaging them lightly. “Darling, I think you’ve had enough coffee for the day. How about you finish up and we can lay in bed and get some sleep?”

Y/N shook her head not looking up at him, “can’t George, I’m so close to finishing this essay.”

George sighed; he could see the dark circles forming under her eyes deciding now would be the perfect time to try the last thing which might get Y/N to relax. He pushed Y/N’s hair off her shoulder. She was wearing one of George’s old band tees which was way too big for her and left some of her shoulder exposed. George lent down and started leaving soft kisses along her skin.

“Georgie, I don’t have time” Y/N mumbled quietly trying to shrug him off.

George persisted and kept leaving kisses along his girlfriend’s shoulder before stopping at the base of her neck and sucking a dark purple mark, causing Y/N to let out a breathy sigh.

“Come on baby, I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long. I miss you, let me take care of you.” Y/N turns her head slightly to see George better and he takes this opportunity to connect their lips. Y/N moans into George’s mouth. “I miss that pretty little pussy of yours, princess. Don’t you miss my cock and how well I fuck you? I’ll make you feel so good baby, promise.”  

Georges words go straight to Y/N’s core and she can already feel herself getting wetter by the second. There is no way she’ll be able to concentrate on her work now. So, she nods and stands up, pulling George up with her. “Want you to take care of me Georgie, need you to fuck me.”

George grins and grabs the back of Y/N’s legs, instructing her to jump, which she does and wraps her legs tightly around his waist. Y/N tangled her fingers into George’s red hair and connects her lips to his neck. George walks them to the bedroom and sits on the end of the bed with Y/N now in his lap. He toys with the end of her shirt before pulling it off groaning at the sight.

“Fuck baby, no bra?” He begins peppering kisses down her chest before attaching his mouth to her nipple, his fingers massaging her other breast.

Y/N whines, her body aching for some relief she starts rocking her hips against George feeling his cock harden under his sweats.

“Look at you, being so desperate for me princess. Bet you can’t wait for me to fuck you huh?” George’s hands coming down to grip Y/N’s hips and helping her rut against him.

Y/N lets out a breathy moan screwing her eyes shut, concentrating on the feeling of George’s harden length beneath her.

“What do you need darling? My fingers? My mouth? Tell me and it’s all yours.” George asks kissing along Y/N’s jaw which opens slightly a silent moan falling off her lips. “Gotta use your words baby. Tell me what you want.”

Y/N opens her eyes and connects them with George, “both Georgie. Want your fingers and mouth, please.”

George immediately lays Y/N down on the bed, her head resting on the pillows. His calloused fingers caressing her sides before hooking into the waistband of her pants and pulling them down slowly.

A sharp gasp leaves Y/N’s lips as George nips on the skin on her thigh.

“Already so fucking wet for me.” George rubs his finger against Y/N’s soaked panties before pulling them off.

Y/N spreads her legs further for George, desperate for him. “Please Georgie, need your mouth.”

“Anything for you, my darling” Y/N’s cunt is already glistening and begging for some attention. George wastes no time and licks a strip from her entrance up to her clit before sucking on the sensitive bud. Y/N rolls her head further back into the pillow and attaches her hand into George’s fiery locks shamelessly trying to pull him closer.

George hums sending vibrations against Y/N’s clit while he massages her wet folds with his fingers before he glides two digits into her heat and starts pumping slowly.

Y/N starts rocking her hips against Georges face and fingers silently begging for more.

George smirks as he lightly nips Y/N’s clit continuing to fuck Y/N with his fingers extremely slow much to Y/N’s dismay. His mouth moves to her thigh, mumbling against her skin. “If you want something baby, you gotta use your words.”

Y/N groans at Georges request, he was always persistent in making her more vocal in bed. He knew exactly what she wanted; he was just teasing. She tugs on George’s hair forcing him to meet her eyes, “I need you to fuck me harder with your fingers, please, I need you so badly Georgie.”

If George wasn’t making Y/N feel so amazing, she’d wipe that smug smirk of his face but her thoughts quickly disappear as George adds a third finger and quickens his pace, his free hand pressed against Y/N’s stomach, keeping her still. Y/N whimpers feeling George’s long fingers start brush against her g-spot, her walls clenching around him as pleasure builds up in her stomach, “feels so good.”

“Fuck, look at you taking my fingers so well, darling. Being such a good girl for me, letting me stretch you out for my cock.” Y/N lets out a heavenly moan which goes straight to Georges already throbbing dick, which is aching for some relief in his pants. George starts rubbing circles against Y/N clit with his thumb, determined to make Y/N come on just his fingers.

Y/N starts panting, her hips bucking up to meet George’s movements tightening her grip in his hair, his name falling from her lips, “fuck, fuck. I’m close.” She uses her free hand to pinch her nipples in between her fingers as the arousal in her belly builds.

George sucks harshly on her thigh, stretching her out with his fingers. “Come on my fingers baby, show me how good I make you feel.”

With George’s words Y/N is coming hard against his fingers, her back arching off the bed. George continues pumping his fingers into her cunt milking her through her orgasm. Once her breathing has slowed, he slowly pulls out his digits, his mouth watering with how they are glistening. George lifts his fingers to Y/N’s lips and watches as she opens wide and circles her tongue around his long fingers sucking hard and humming as she tastes herself. He pulls them out with a pop dragging his thumb against her bottom lip, “so pretty. Think you’re ready for my cock now princess?”

Y/N nods her head eagerly, reaching up to pull of Georges shirt, “god yes please, miss being full of you.”

She drags her nails down George’s toned chest while he rids himself of the rest of his clothes. George wraps his hand around his cock and notices Y/N’s eyes glued to him as strokes himself, a smirk creeping onto his lips. “Like what you see babe?” Y/N only rolls her eyes at him.

George leans over Y/N, propping himself up with his forearm while his other hand is wrapped around his cock teasing her entrance. Y/N hooks her legs around George’s waist, bucking her hips up trying to find some friction. “Please George, need you to feel me up with your cock.” Y/N knows she sounds desperate, but it’s been way too long since George has fucked her and now that he’s right here she can’t wait a second longer.

George starts to slowly push forward not stopping until his hips are flush against Y/N’s. “Shit Y/N, you’re so still so fucking tight even after I stretched up out with my fingers.”

Y/N sighs contently feeling George’s cock buried deep inside her, she missed him stretching her out like this. The room is filled with moans and grunts at George starts pounding into Y/N. She can feel the tip of his cock rub against her g-spot with every thrust. Y/N grabs onto his shoulders her nails digging into his skin, most likely leaving marks, but she didn’t care.

“Taking me so well, baby. Such a good girl” He praises, his fingers coming down to rub circle on her sensitive bud, leaving open mouthed kisses against the base of her throat. “You feel so fucking good clenching around my cock, this sweet little pussy is all mine, hey princess? Tell me who this cunt belongs too?”

Y/N bites her lip trying to suppress a moan but failing, “you Georgie, you always make me feel so good. Always fuck me so good.”

George hoists Y/N’s legs around his shoulders allowing him to hit deeper inside her cunt. Y/N’s eyes roll back into her head at the new position, her fingers pinching and massaging her breasts. George is slamming into her harder now and more gasps are leaving Y/N’s mouth. “Fuck Y/N you look so fucking pretty like this. Letting me fill you up with my cock.”

Y/N reaches down to play with her clit desperately needing to reach her second orgasm. “Love being so full of your thick cock Georgie. Feels so fucking good.”

Y/N feels George twitch inside of her, he’s close but she knows he won’t finish until she has. He snaps his hips harder into Y/N causing her to moan his name. George can feel her walls clenching around him causing him to groan loudly.

Y/N tangles her fingers in Georges hair pulling his lips to meet hers, “Georgie. Fuck, I’m-I’m so close.”

George tugs on her earlobe with his teeth “want you to cum around my cock Y/N.” With a few more deep thrusts Y/N comes, her legs shaking from the pleasure rushing throughout her body. She squeezes her eyes shut George’s names leaving her pretty mouth like a mantra.

Y/N pulsating and tightening around George pushes him over the edge and he releases his load inside of her groaning into her neck. He slowly rocks his hips as they come down from their highs before gently pulling out and laying on the bed pulling Y/N into his side.

“I love you” Y/N whispers, tracing patterns into his sweaty chest.

George plants a soft kiss against her forehead. “I love you too darling, so much.” Y/N can feel her eyes getting heavy, sleep wanting to overtake her body. George notices this and squeezes her shoulder. “How about I run you a warm bath, get you cleaned up, then we can get some sleep yeah?”

Y/N mumbles a reply against his skin feeling exhausted. “Maybe I should overwork myself more often if it means you’ll take care of me like this.”

George chuckles and sits up, pulling Y/N up with him and gently stroking her back, “baby you and me both know I always take of you, don’t need a reason.”

Y/N smiles sweetly up at George, feeling very blessed to have such a caring boyfriend.

#George Weasley #george weasley smut #smut #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #fred and george #fred weasley #george weasley one shot #george weasley fanfic #george weasley oneshot #george weasley imagine #harry potter #harry potter smut #harry potter oneshot

[d3monslust]

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 - 𝐀.𝐃.

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Only setting up traps for them , Andy didn't see any of this coming

𝐖𝐂 : 3,151

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage & abusive relationships , cheating , manipulation , violence

𝐀/𝐍 : tumblr deleted the original and I thought for couple of minutes I haven’t backed it up to the point I had a panic attack :) also I worked really hard for this , any kind of interaction is appreciated!!

////////////////June 7th 2020\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Every story has a happy ending , where the villain gets defeated and the heroes win , but in eden , no one could recognize the corruption and the decent. Everyone hid their darkest and filthiest desires deep down inside them , in their abyss of their souls . Andy knew that , from first hand . He was still getting to know the place , the idle juveniles laying in the sandy beaches , the laughs of the middle aged men echoing through the thickness of the trees’ leaves . A literal paradise ... with no God .

Dolan had promised his wife to keep her safe, and eventually after his decadence , he was more fazed than anything . Their inseparable form could be made out from kilometers ago, their vivid and full of life auras leaving hints of sunshine from time to time . Winning the couple of the year and being stunned was not in their plans but the did not dodge it . Until Dolan started venturing at inexcusable bars , reciprocal pink lipstick decorating one side of his neck while he reclined next to his bond , mumbling about his ambiguous accomplishments. He had her to the point , Mariah felt overwhelmed. The weight of his nifty assets , the gravitas of his clumsy , yet anticipated acts made her scream and wince .

But Mariah David Dolan , did not intend on giving up so easily , only because her husband was demonstrating his incompetent self . Haphazardly, or not , the female found herself at Sherlock’s , who fasty evaluated and corrupted all of her nasty problems . Taken the right measurements, Mariah decided to treat themselves to a dinner , the brunette averting his gaze back from his laptop to his wife. “Did something happen ?” Mariah never cooked , even at special , “crowded” occasions , she wouldn’t lay a finger at the metallic kitchenware . “No . I just though about all the work you’re recently hooked with. A nice dinner with your wife would help you blow off some steam” smirking at the fit of the last words, she left Dolan alone, drowning in his intellectually safe thoughts.

The capriciousness of the vexing atmosphere made the couple exchange some absurd looks. With Andy being the always tired one, sexual intercourse was lost long ago . “Something you would like to say ?” “No .” She went for a debate , any sort of the key for relationships , communication. If that clink unraveled , there would be no sweet salvation for the married couple . “Well , I want to say something.” Andy whispered a silent “go on” as one of their housekeepers wiped off him some of the pasta’s sauce . “I’m pregnant .” the brunette almost choked at the hear , she couldn’t be . “What ?” voice so small , the trait of vulnerability showing .

The fraction made his stomach toss and turn with anticipation, his dreams for the unknown slowly falling apart . “I’m pregnant on the 3rd month .” eyes infested with fury , the blue like sea color dissipated. “And when were you planning on telling me , hm ? When the waters would broke ? Or when the bump would start to show ? Or when you couldn’t fucking miscarriage?” his excessive, painful words ventured to withhold her insurmountable fury . Unceremoniously, his unbeatable character almost took back his sharp words , the marvel Mariah always waited for could intervene their scold and corrupt his grudge . Albeit she had cried and prayed for that baby to come , her husband didn’t yearn it .

“Did you talk to the gynecologist? Can you ?” he stated chastely , reclining his tensed back to the chair . Who could envision Andy Dolan with a child ? The reluctance became vexing , the tension had to be dwindled if she wanted to keep that inexcusable -for him- child . “Yes . We ... discussed and he said that I cannot ... get rid of it .” her unconvincingly words passed from the one ear to the other . He abruptly threw his crystal glass at the respective wall , agitating the woman to run to clean the mess . The hot , ambiguous tears wetting her cheeks . “Cant you just love me ?” she mumbled , her fasty movements elicited a cut from the sharp glass . She hissed at the pain , she wanted to resemble the perfect , sincere , housewife Andy pleased . To conquer the theme , so as to stand next to him with all her lucid pride while clutching his right hand .

And the things became even worse , chaos consuming the island , darkness drowning the residents . But the worst was Andy’s behavior shift . The unintelligible man faltered and his intriguing about his serene family faded , woefully leaving only his malice and possession . Fighting with his own demons , his rigid and virile facade came and ended up resented . The 24-hour absence of the paternal figure made the child cope with egregious insults and quarrels . Curling up in her little bed , her hands covering the ears as not to listen his beloved parents . Was her the reason they fought every night ? And as the family withered , Andy prepared to hit with sweet and sour vengeance .

“Please ...” the woman begged , the tears blocking her already blurry vision . Fatigue in her system degenerating, she tried to refrain this , but Dolan’s wrath could not be avoided . “Please what , hm ? You had a fucking debt ! Look after that damned child . And I swear to god Mariah ^ if something had happened to my daughter!” he scolded . “Oh come on ! Stop acting like you care ! You never did ... you never cared about your family .” His intimidating methods would usually work , and if not he would try for the vicious skin-to-skin contact . Slapping her and looking her terribly weak silhouette, squirming and crying under him . She remained frigid , not wanting to get that answer , Mariah ran to the basement , advancing around the marble halls like a lost puppy . Andy rubbed his stressed temple , waiting for his own kind of wonder to come and take him from this type of hell . The paradise where demons are hidden .

Andy never wanted to become one of them. That vicious, hungry, creatures . Demons . The olds said that if somebody approached the North river he would see a little red creature . A graceful , gorgeous demon . That was bullshit , demons didn't exist , his friend Michael had told him , that poor man - he had taken the subject of claiming to be the Antichrist of the end times too thick . He ended up at an asylum - good man , sick brain . “What are you thinking ?” . God , or whoever , heard him sent him his guardian angel . The nifty woman was everything he wished for . A real living angel . And that chaste, naive flirt shifted into this; whatever that was.

“Nothing to be honest . But let’s not talk about me , hmmm ?” the girl nodded heartily . Y/N had found her person , the one she could trust and never receive betrayal , the one she could cry at and talk about her insurmountable problems . Their meeting was casual - one , two drinks exchanged , some additional winks and the saccharine act of sex to help Y/N realize her feelings. When she was with him , the blithe and sybarite feeling would bloom inside her , becoming as beautiful as a sanguine rose . She chuckled at his works , could describe him as selfless ? No . But to her ... yes . Her despondent self hid his abusive and possessive persona . For her eyes and only , Andy Dolan was a god , innocent and perfect . “I wanted to ask about ... the divorce ? When are you two signing it ?” he had to be astute and answer handily . But they answer was always the same “Oh sweetheart, don’t worry . Mariah is a bit pertinacious but I’ll persuade her , okay ?” and she would fall at the trap , again .

“You’re always answering the same !” maybe today she would revolt and fortunately leave the poisonous love of Andy’s . His eyes shone dangerously, he didn’t want to do this . “Y/N’s not like Mariah” he would remind himself , but the poor girl was sticking her nose almost everywhere . “Aren’t you pleased , hm ? I took you from that fucking clinic , I helped you withdraw and this is your thank you ? I’m disappointed in you , Y/N .” his esoteric character on sight again . His cogent and invidious words caused the sentient girl spill the salty water . The male disdaining to help or comfort . “You deserve this anyway .” she stumbled back , her apprehension increasing whilst seeing him standing up from the bed . That absurdity had to stop , but he had saved her and it was her time now .

As Andy returned home , and the futile try to persuade his wife about the divorce exhausted him , he found himself at his daughter’s room . Observing her sincere and innocent moves . “Daddy ?” “Yes , Baby ?” his far-fetched sweet talk made the two smile in sync . The blonde’s smile making daddy crack . “Can I tell you something?” Andy nodded , hoping the child wouldn’t have read any of his recreational messages . “Mommy told me the reason she doesn’t want you two to break up !” his eyes lit up at her appendix . Perhaps it was the money or the child but anyway - Andy had to know . “What’s that ?” patting his lap for the girl to sit , Hera made herself comfortable at the warmth of his legs . “She said that she won’t let you fool around with every individual who has two holess.” “She said what ?!?!” “Yes , yes but what did she mean when she said “every individual with two holes .” ?” “Not now , Hera .” he quickly placed the kid down , as she sulked at her daddy’s extraordinary behavior.

By the time Andy stated the predicament , Mariah had ruminated on her terms . She should have said this , fuck she really shouldn’t . Her dull and attention-seeking words pushed her husband’s last buttons . “Are you fucking braindead ? What was that you said to my daughter ?!” she knew where that debate would end up . Condescendingly , she wrapped her arms around his neck . Her touch-starved grating amusing his carnal urges . Not wanting to dwell on the situation , Andy let it happen . Her amorous posture , the well-med hair , how didn’t he feel it coming ? Her hands traveling at his shirt’s buttons while Andy’s fingers went for her top . Discarded clothing were soon decorating the floor of their kitchen . His greed for more would eat him up one day . And he waited - patiently and calmly for that day . Her tenuous dominance caused waking up his boredom. But his prurient mind , thought otherwise.

She licked his upper lip , Andy letting her tongue slip into his mouth . The sloppy kiss turning into something more passionate, more loving . “I’ve missed this .” she mumbled in between breaths , making a smirk plaster on Dolan’s face . “I’ve missed you .” he hushed her by kissing her , the loving , lingering kiss making butterflies fly in her stomach . “Andy ?” he groaned at the call , not wanting to eye roll , he approved the question and motivated to go on . “Do you love me ?” “Yes. Only you . And no one else . I know things are hard right now but I’ll make it up to you.”

Bare bodies tangled . Two bodies in one . His hips snapped viciously at hers , hand grabbing a harmful fist of hair . Abruptly pulling it back , making Mariah hiss at the sudden contact of pain . The persona she would only see , not even Y/N , the sadistic one . Her head touching his sweaty torso , the tears in her eyes strengthening his stamina . The coil in her stomach tightened and as the loved noticed it - his hands traveled between her puffy lips , toying with her little bud . “I’m .... im-” her muffled cries interrupting her . “I know baby . Cum , cum with me .” and the coil in her belly broke synchronized with his . The addicting feeling of euphoria engulfing them both . “You did so well .” his sugary words causing her pride to rise , awaking her love for him . Just like the old times . “I love you , Mariah .” she perched at his tight embrace , inhaling his intoxicating scent . “Mhm me too .” she had to savor the moment . Mariah didn’t know what could possibly find her tomorrow .

////////////////

And as Andy distanced himself from Y/N, he kept his promise and made up the tangle. At least everything that could be fixed . The insuperable bond they created was ineffable. The somnolent love , almost dead , rose back from the dead . His pernicious and arcane self opened at his therapist . The Dolans couldn’t be happier . Apathy no longer lived between them . No invidious implication wafting around the tensed atmosphere. Just some more scarce , anticipated details and Dolan would finally fall into blithely.

Andy planted the usual good morning kiss on his wife . Excusing himself for his aimless absence on lunch and venturing to the car . The fraction of 2 to months without seeing Y/N, made him tacit. Where was the power Dolan’s hold ? He couldn’t falter, not now. He would withhold and keep things conservative. His conscience screamed no , but he shut it off , not wanting to trust his instincts . Choosing the obliviousness.

Approaching her modern like house , the cars of topical police confused his comprehension. Incompetent to walk inside , albeit he promised not to care - a part which was got circumvented - some of his worry remained to Y/N . “Officer , is she okay ?” the concern in his eyes made the blue - dressed man doubt his accusation . “Sir , are you Mr.Dolan ?” the man let his white scribbling block down , paying full attention to the brunette . “In the flesh .” two more patrols approaching, no feeling of timidity in their eyes . His envision had to be mendacious . A prosaic one , more realistic. “Andy Dolan you are arrested for the murder of Y/N Y/L/N” his conception blurred, everything changing into automatic. His eyes caught the figure of his wife talking to another police man - she wouldn’t? Would she ?

Everything happened so quickly, the metal handcuffs were clutched onto his hand, the ignominious state making him sentient. He would go to prison and there was no denial in that . At least he would leave Eden .

/////////////// Now \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

He had learnt the news . Mariah was in all this . She had been informed about Andy’s illegal affair , not only with women but with drugs , too . On the one side, she had managed to plan her husband’s perfect suicide but the contradiction she received made her tentative. Therefore she visited the professionals . Sherlock’s beneficial - for both Mariah and him- and handily trap got Dolan arrested . They had planned everything, even the littlest detail . The plan was easy , yet complicated.

He would wake up at 7:15 a.m. as always . Head to the kitchen to make his morning coffee , catch up with Mariah who would accidentally leave the house . His phone would remind him about his last meeting with Y/N , where she would end up thing with him . Or what Mariah had decided to do for her . Y/N had left the island months ago when Mrs.Dolan appeared in her house and threatened to kill her and her soon-to-be-born child. As Andy would drive his way , Sherlock would leave his fingerprint everywhere , placing them carefully at the edges of the gun . Next step would be Y/N’s doppelgänger, nice and murdered next to the white rug .

-

The unbearable route of the dull prison . The thousand of men behind the metal bars , hungry for every kind of fight and sexual intercourse nettled his every atom . Compelling himself not to communicate with anyone , Andy , who had received a life imprisonment lost and the last bit of faith . There was no salvation for him , it never existed . “You have a letter .” the word taking him out of his dwelling thoughts. His family never sent him letters , not that they were coming . Drugs were forbidden, or that was the law applied . “Sender ?” “Unknown .” Andy wasn’t in the mood for playing games . This almost one years in prison erased all of his lenient future. Additionally, alleviating his last mendacious fantasies about life .

Taking the rigid piece of paper , the handwriting of a woman caught his attention . Refraining himself from toring it apart and throwing it to the trash can , he want for abstinence. Cutting the edges with a small knife which used to hide right down his pillow , the form a photo fall on the floor . Inhaling a piece of pure reluctance , Andy took the shiny piece of paper between his hands . The silhouettes of two girls laughing at each other quirked his eye brow . But her ineffable and disheveled beauty stopped his breath . A baby adjoining her side , made him caught the implication . The transparent eligibility to join this family causing him to incandescent. That was his child and his Y/N .

Last thing , eyes traveling at the bottom of the photo

- SHOT WITH NIKON 456 | 6/4/2021 | 7:56 p.m.

And they were alive .

////////////////////////////////////////

Tag list ; @ferndolan @brooklinn13 @lavenderahs @mllxngdonswife @kitty4860

If anyone wants to be removed or added just say it lol

#ahs apocalypse #michael langdon #duncan shepherd #cody fern #andy dolan #joey talks #ahs fanfiction #andy dolan x reader #lettering #tw mention of violence #tw mental hospital #cheating #australia #reblog #like seriously #likeit #netflix #i hope you like this #i hope you have a wonderful day #moodboard #smut #angst

[fanmoose12]

Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi

Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance

Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 12/14

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Сhapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Сhapter 7

Сhapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

All his accounts went into trash. His books, phone and laptop soon followed.

His weapons – his trusty knife and favorite pistol – laid discarded on a floor. Next he happened upon an old, beaten toy – a monkey with its head almost torn off. It was the only thing that was left from his father, and, just for a moment he hesitated, debating if he really should throw it away.

Zeke looked at it, the edge of his vision swimming, and sighed, letting it join the pile of trash beside him.

In the end, parting with that toy was just as easy as parting with his father.

It was harder to discard another treasure of his – baseball glove, still white and soft even after all these years. If the monkey was a gift from his father, the glove was given to him by a man who had actually raised him.

Mister Xaver… I really fucked this all up, didn’t I?

He cradled the glove to his chest, taking some comfort in the feeling of its familiar texture beneath his fingers. As he held it close to his heart, Zeke knew that he couldn’t get rid of it. He wasn’t a sentimental man but that glove – it was the only thing in this world that he treasured.

Running his fingers all over it, he put it down on a floor and resumed his task.

The pile of trash grew, filling with papers, plans, blueprints. He threw it all away, a sort of satisfaction washing over him as he got rid of everything.

Maybe, it was his start of a new life. Prison was meant to change people, wasn’t it?

A dry, mirthless chuckle made its way past his lips, as he continued shifting through various, now meaningless documents, before a sudden bang that came from the first floor made him pause.

Zeke looked up, straining his hearing. The loud steps sounded on a stairwell. They kept approaching the room he was in, and their heaviness was worrying.

Whoever was looking for him, they were awfully angry.

The door to his office was thrown open, and Zeke turned around, catching the whirlwind of motion from the corner of his eyes. That was all the warning he got before he was roughly yanked up and his back met the hard surface of a concrete wall. His glasses tattered to the floor, the back of his head erupted in sharp pain and Zeke groaned, struggling to focus his eyes on the offender.

He didn’t need his vision to recognize him, though. The low, shiver-inducing voice of detective Ackerman was very hard to forget.

“Where is she?”

Despite the burning fire in his narrow grey eyes, despite his trembling fingers that gripped Zeke’s shirt so tightly that it was starting to tear at the seams, Levi’s voice was calm. And despite the burning fire in his narrow grey eyes, despite his trembling fingers that gripped Zeke’s shirt so tightly that it was starting to tear at the seams Zeke felt like it was simply calm before the storm.

The intensity of Levi’s gaze was making his stomach turn unpleasantly. Zeke tried to get out of the chokehold Levi had him in, but Levi merely grunted and further tightened his grasp.

“Where is she?” he repeated, shaking Zeke’s body like it weighted nothing.

What was the meaning of this, Zeke couldn’t even begin to fathom. Hange already asked him the same thing, what was the point of Levi repeating the question? Did he not trust her? Why did he come, and why he did it alone? Were they not in a hurry? Why were they wasting their time like this?

Zeke wanted to joke, wanted to smirk and rile Levi up a little more, but considering the state Levi was in… Perhaps, further riling it up would not end too well.

“I told your partner already, detective. I don’t know where your Petra is.”

For a second, Levi seemed surprised. His eyes widened and his hold on Zeke lessened. But it lasted for no more than a moment. Then his anger returned, more vicious than it was before.

“Don’t try to fuck with me,” he growled, absolutely wild. “Where is Hange? She came to see you, but didn’t come back. If you have done something to her…”

Zeke didn’t need to hear the end of that sentence. He was close to hyperventilating as it was.

“Hange left,” he said simply, hoping that Levi would believe him. If he wouldn’t… Zeke was afraid to think what Levi would do. He knew just how much Hange meant to him. He didn’t wish to know what Levi would do if any harm came her way again. “I don’t know what happened next, but she left this place unharmed. She was hurrying to meet with you.”

Levi let him go, as abruptly as he had grabbed.

“She didn’t come back…” he spoke feverishly, fingers clawing at his nape. “She promised but she didn’t, and if she isn’t with you…”

Zeke’s mouth fell open, as he stared at Levi. The detective he once perceived as cold and uncaring was now breaking in front of his eyes, his desperation so strong and urgent that he let even Zeke see this side of him.

His fingers twitched, the need to placate his enemy almost impossible to ignore. He thought if he should lay a hand on his shoulder, give him at least some semblance of comfort, but would Levi welcome it? Or would he slap his hand away and mock him for his sudden burst of empathy?

The latter was more probable, so Zeke stayed put, watching the unravelling scene with a sense of weak helplessness.

“Petra is missing too,” Levi continued, pacing around. “And it’s my fault, I was supposed to protect her, I have to get her back, but Hange… I can’t—” he took a shuddering breath, his voice wavering. “I can’t—”

“You can’t lose her for the second time,” Zeke finished, his soft tone surprising them both. “I can’t pretend to know how you feel,” he lost people before – first his mother, then his father, although that had been a result of his own choice and mistake, then Mister Xaver... But it didn't happen like this. There was no uncertainty, no what-ifs possible. Only crushing, overwhelming pain. But to have hope and then watch it get destroyed... Zeke could only imagine the agony it brought along. “Detective, I think I can help you in searching for her.”

Zeke didn’t quite know what had possessed him, what had made him say these words and look at Levi with a rare sincerity in his eyes.

Perhaps, he was tired – of always being the bad guy, of causing others pain and misery, of caring for only himself.

For the first time in his life, he longed to do good. To help and be kind to someone, even if that someone was his rival.

“I’ll help you, detective,” Zeke said, more sure this time. He picked up his glasses, put them on, and smirked, reveling in the dumbfounded look that had taken over Levi’s features. “We’ll get your partner back. I promise you.”

***

Petra naively thought that it couldn’t get any worse. She so foolishly thought that getting kidnapped, dragged and then tied up to a chair in some dark, smelly room was the worst of her nightmares.

But it wasn’t.

She realized the horror of it all only now, when she saw the body of unconscious Hange Zoe pushed down on a chair beside her.

If Hange was there, if she was injured and taken, then what had happened to Levi? What had they done to him if he had allowed them to take Hange away?

Just thinking about it made Petra tremble.

She was alone now, the two men had left, but the silence and the horrible, viscous feeling of not knowing what was going to happen next were slowly suffocating her.

Petra didn’t know how much time had passed, but Hange wasn’t waking up. The blood kept flowing down her face and her breathing kept growing more shallow, and Petra kept trying to stop her tears.

She didn’t want to cry, she wanted to be brave and strong, wanted to meet her end with her head held high, but damn it, she didn’t want to die. Not like this, not when— not when everything just started to come together. She had friends, a good job, someone who loved her… She didn’t want to lose it all now.

But she most probably would have to, and the realization finally broke her. Petra sniffled, a quick sob falling from her lips.

“I’m so sorry…” she whispered, not quite knowing what she was apologizing for or whose forgiveness she wanted to have.

She was sorry, though. For everything she was going to lose, for all things she didn’t get to experience. For…

“Oi, Petra…” the deep, husky voice made her jump. Petra turned her head to the side and nearly squealed, when she met the deep brown of Hange’s iris. “Cheer up, we aren’t done yet.”

“Hange!” Petra cried out, relief spilling even more of her tears. If she could, she’d run into Hange’s arms. Then again, if she could move, they wouldn’t be here at all.

“Are you alright?” Hange squinted, failing to take a good look at Petra without her glasses.

“Good, I’m good. And you?”

“Had been worse,” the grin was probably meant to make Petra feel better. But when Hange curled her lips up, she exposed her bloodied teeth, and the sight forced Petra to let out another sob. “Sorry,” Hange winced. “Can you move?”

Petra stared at her, confused. Didn’t Hange see that she was tied up?

“Your chair, can move it closer to mine?” Hange clarified. “Just an inch would be enough.”

Petra braced herself, curling her hands around the back of the chair. She bent her legs as much as she could, and then stretched them out, slightly lifting the chair and bringing it closer to Hange.

“Just a little more,” Hange asked, and Petra nodded, repeating the action.

“Excellent,” Hange praised, her voice kind. “Can you do another thing for me? Try to untie the knot on my hands. I think you’re close enough to do it.”

Again, Petra nodded, and set out to work. Unwrapping the rope proved to be a much harder task than jumping up on a chair, and on top of it all she couldn’t even see what she was doing, but Hange’s soft cheering encouraged her to continue.

She dug her fingers into the rough material, picking apart every thread with her nails. It took more time than Petra expected, but finally the rope fell onto the ground, and Hange chuckled, raising her now free hand to ruffle Petra’s hair.

“Good job,” she smiled so brightly Petra just had to smile back. “Now let me free you, and we can get out of here.”

“Okay.”

Hange’s fingers touched her bound hands, and Petra laughed, feeling incredibly giddy. Here she was crying because she thought that was the end, but Hange helped her, Hange saved her and now they were going to—

Her happy thoughts were interrupted by a sudden appear of loud footsteps. They sounded close, just behind the door.

Hange froze, murmuring a quiet, but vicious curse.

“Sorry,” she whispered to Petra, and then bolted up, returning to her previous position on a chair. She moved her hands behind her, making it look like they were still bound.

The door opened a second later, revealing the red-headed scary man.

“I see you’re awake now, Hange,” Floch smiled, swimming up closer. “I must say I quite enjoy seeing you like this.”

Hange said nothing, just grunted, as she watched the man move, approaching closer and closer. Her gaze grew more intense with every step Floch made, and when he was close, when he stood just beside Hange, looming over her, Hange let her lips pull into a smile. She sent Petra a quick, wicked look, and then launched forward, her fist raised up and ready. It connected with the Floch’s nose with a loud sound that made Petra smile too.

“I must say,” Hange said, holding Floch by his shoulders. “I quite enjoy seeing you like this.”

She didn’t give him the time to recover and dealt another blow, this one aimed at his abdomen. Floch bent over, curling onto himself. Hange raised her leg this time and kicked his knee, forcing him to fall over.

Floch hollered in pain and Hange hit him again, just to make sure he wouldn’t try to get up.

“Now where have we left off?” she turned to Petra with a smile that looked just a little too feral.

Hange crouched down next to her once more, returning to her bindings. Petra wasn’t the one, who was fighting just now, but the speed of her breathing increased, and she couldn’t quite tear her eyes away from Floch, who was still curled up on a floor.

She prayed that Hange would get her out soon, but didn’t dare to actually urge her on. She didn’t wish for Hange to lose her focus, so Petra sat and she watched, picking up the smallest movements from Floch.

But, as it turned out, it wasn’t Floch she had to be afraid of. It was the other man, the one who wasn’t even in the same room with them.

Yet.

***

Oluo fixed the bulletproof vest for the tenth time in the last minute. It was squeezing his chest in an uncomfortable, suffocating manner. And the place, where the gun was resting inside a holster on his hip, burned him even through layers of clothes. The gun was still hidden, unused. For how long would it last?

Oluo cursed and looked up ahead, focusing on a wide back of Captain Erwin Smith.

“Sir?” Oluo approached him. “Should we start the mission?”

They had located the house, they had checked every entrance and exit and circled the whole perimeter. But Erwin still didn’t give an order to start.

“Five minutes,” he said, and Oluo couldn’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. Five minutes were dragging on for almost half an hour now.

“Sir…” he cautiously began. At any other day, he would never dare to argue with Captain. He wouldn’t even think about starting a conversation with him, but Petra was in danger, and fear and worry for her was making his head spin.

“I know,” Erwin cut him off. Despite his hard, determined face, his voice was quiet. Unsure. It made Oluo lower his eyes in shame. He was worried about Petra, but Captain didn’t feel much better. His two friends were missing too – detective Hange was first to disappear, and now Levi wasn’t answering his calls as well. “I know, we need to get going,” Erwin said. He glanced at his phone, sighing when he saw no missing calls or texts. “Five minutes,” he declared. “Five minutes and we’re going in. I promise.”

***

All of it was her fault.

If Petra was smart like Hange, if she was experienced like Levi, she would know that watching injured Floch was pointless. It was another man, the one she couldn’t yet see, that was an enemy she had to be wary of.

But she wasn’t wary, she was excited, filled with joy and relief.

And Hange was the one who paid for her mistake.

The man returned, but they didn’t saw him at first. Instead, they heard him.

The thundering gunshot shook the whole room, the bullet flying so close to Hange that only her quick reflexes had saved her.

The man raised his gun then, aiming it at her head. “You won’t get so lucky next time,” he spoke. His voice was deep, but not low, betraying just how young he actually was. “Sit down,” he ordered Hange.

Hange hesitated to comply, determination and anger making her face flush. And in that split second that she was able to observe that subtle change in Hange, Petra remembered what Sannes had once told her.

“She was hot-headed and reckless, and in the end, that’s what had gotten her killed.”

She didn’t believe it before, thought it was bitter words from bitter man, but she could see it now – he wasn’t wrong. After all, Hange really did die once.

She braced herself, moving her leg behind her. Preparing to attack, Petra realized suddenly, a helpless whimper escaping her lips. She wanted to stop her, wanted to beg her to follow the man’s order—

The second gunshot did it for her.

Hange grunted, bent over, pressing a hand to a growing blotch of red on her side, but didn’t scream. She swayed but didn’t fall, grabbing the back of a chair for support.

“I won’t repeat myself,” the man said and pointed his gun at the vacant chair.

Hange threw him a long, sizzling look. She straightened out and walked over to the chair, her steps slow, pained, but steady.

“Floch,” the man turned to his accomplice. “Tie her up again. And make sure you do a thorough job this time.”

Floch eagerly nodded, groaning as he pushed himself upwards. He roughly seized Hange’s hands, eliciting another pained grunt out of her, and pulled them behind her back, tying them up with a discarded rope.

“Seems like your luck has died out,” he mocked with a wide smile.

“We’ll see about that,” Hange spit the blood out of her mouth, just barely missing the tip of Floch’s shoe. She raised her head then, meeting Petra’s eyes. Her lips curled in a reassuring smile. “The help is on their way.”

“We won’t be here when they come,” Floch’s friend said. “And you,” he walked further inside the room, stepping into a light of a single lightbulb that now cast a long, flitting shadow. “You won’t be here either.”

The threat made Petra’s blood turn cold, but Hange didn’t seem just as affected. She tilted her head to the side, curiously studying a man in front of her.

“And who are you?” she asked. “I knew Floch was involved, but what’s your deal? What did Zeke do to you?”

“He ruined my life,” he spoke gravelly. “And now I’m going to ruin his.”

“Ruin your life?” in spite of his dark words and solemn mood, Hange scoffed. “You’ve got to be a little more specific, buddy. You’re not the only member of this club.”

The man came closer, pressing his fist to the fresh wound on Hange’s side. She choked and doubled over. The man grimaced and turned his head to look at Floch. “I thought you were exaggerating when you mentioned just how annoying she was,” he said, before returning his attention back to Hange. His green eyes darkened. “Zeke murdered my family. That’s all you need to know.”

Hange gasped, her remaining eye widening. “Murdered your family?” she stuttered, the gears in her head turning rapidly. “It can’t be… I thought it was but a rumor. But if it’s true… does it mean you’re Eren? Zeke’s little brother?”

“Eren Yeager…” Petra murmured, shocked to remember an old case file Oluo had shown to her. “The boy whose family was murdered. But… I thought that killer’s identity remained unknown?”

“You’re smarter than you look,” Eren hummed. “Yes, you’re right, Zeke wasn’t the one who killed them. But he was the one who gave the order to. And I’ll make him pay for that. I’ll make him suffer. Just as I did with the actual murderers.”

“Why not simply kill him then?” Hange questioned. “What’s the point of this whole mess?”

“Zeke didn’t kill me,” Eren’s curled fists trembled, as his eyes filled with righteous fire. “He simply ruined my whole life. I’m going to give him the same curtesy.”

“Zeke is going to end up in prison anyway,” Hange argued, her lips pursed. “Pinning another crime on him is pointless.”

“You were hunting him down for years, Zoe,” Floch spoke up. “You didn’t have much luck in catching him. Besides…”

“Besides, I want him to know it was me,” Eren said. “I want him to know that it was me who got him in prison.”

Hange’s lips curled up, as she lowly chuckled. “No one is going to believe you. Cops aren’t that dumb, you know.”

“Maybe, they aren’t,” Eren agreed easily. “But after they find two murdered detectives, they’ll be out for blood and they won’t really care who to pin this all on.”

“And Zeke will be their only suspect,” Floch smirked. “He has the motive, he has the means… Even the scene of a crime belongs to him. Or do you still not get it, Zoe? Just look around...”

Hange did, her jaw tensing, as the realization slowly kicked in.

“That’s right,” Floch nodded. “You’ve lost an eye here. Now you’re going to lose your life here too.”

His voice, so falsely sweet and friendly, sent shivers down Petra’s spine. She prayed once more, hoping that someone would listen. Hoping that they would be saved.

“Finish them, Floch,” Eren lazily waved his hand. “I’ll be waiting in a car.”

“With pleasure,” Floch purred, taking out his knife. The edge of it glinted caught the light, showing a brief reflection of Petra’s terrified face. That was the last thing she saw, before promptly shutting her eyes in fear.

***

Erwin stared right ahead, as time continued to mercilessly move on.

One minute passed, then two, three… Soon he’d have to give an order to move out, he couldn’t possibly waste any more time, yet still… Still he hesitated. He kept waiting for Hange and Levi to return, thinking that any moment now he would see Levi appear from out of the corner, a furious scowl on his face, as he dragged Hange along, complaining that she had made him make a detour and get her a cup of coffee.

But there was no sign of his friends, and the point on his wrist watch kept moving, and that meant he couldn’t wait any longer.

Just one minute of the five minutes he had promised to Oluo left, when they heard a loud sound, coming from a safe house.

With a shudder, Erwin recognized the sound of a gunshot.

“Sir?” Oluo looked up at him, his face turning even paler. “Should we—”

Oluo didn’t get to finish. Another gunshot sounded.

“We’re starting,” Erwin announced, his jaw set. “Spread the word, Oluo, and get ready.”

Oluo nodded, saluted and rushed to fulfill the order.

Erwin breathed in deeply, taking out his gun. He hoped he wouldn’t need to use it tonight, but if something went wrong, if someone hurt Petra… he’d have no other choice.

“We are ready, sir!” Oluo came back, panting. “Just say the word.”

“Let’s begin then.”

Another deep breath, and Erwin’s fingers tightened around the gun, as he took his first step forward.

Just as expected, the door to the safe house was locked, so he braced himself, angling his shoulder towards the wooden surface. Next to him, Oluo did the same.

“On a count of three,” Erwin warned. “One… Two…”

He never got to three.

“Wait!”

In the exact second that Erwin meant to finish the count, he heard a familiar voice. Not believing he was really there, Erwin turned around. And saw Levi running up to him.

As he had thought, Levi wasn’t alone, someone following right behind him. However, it wasn’t Hange.

It was Zeke Yeager.

***

The headlights turned on, the engine roared, and the car smoothly drove onto the road.

"So what do you think we should do?" Levi asked, keeping his eyes firmly on a road ahead.

What do you think, not what should we do... Interesting.

It was almost cute how much detective Levi tried to be in control now after he had lost it right in front of Zeke. A lesser person would have mocked him for that, Zeke certainly wanted to... But today he felt gracious enough and so decided to gift Levi with an illusion that his authority and dignity was still intact.

“The girl that went missing first - do you know when she was taken?"

"Her name is Petra,” Levi grunted, shooting him a disgruntled look. “And she went missing last night. It's been almost a day since we lost contact with her."

Zeke nodded, his hand moving to cup his chin. "Then we must hurry.”

“We found a place where they’re holding her,” Levi said. “Let’s head there first. Save Petra and then…” he trailed off, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. “And then we’ll take care of everything else.”

There it was again, Zeke realized with confusion. That same irritating feeling, the same urge to give Levi some reassurance.

“Maybe, we’ll find Hange there,” he said. “And even if we won’t, she is smart. Strong too. She can take care of herself.”

Levi didn’t answer him, but his shoulders tensed and his jaw clenched.

“There is no need to worry,” he took another attempt, this time meaning to lighten the mood. “She survived even me after all.”

The chuckle died out somewhere in his throat, when he glanced and Levi, and saw him looking back at him with murderous rage.

“Her eye,” he growled. “You will pay for that, Zeke. After this mess is over,” another furious glare, this time it was dark enough to frighten Zeke. He nervously shifted his eyes to the side, focusing on a sight of bright-lit streets passing by. “I’ll make sure you do pay for that.”

“I believe you,” Zeke murmured hoarsely.

“And I believe you,” Levi blurted out suddenly. “Open the glove compartment.”

Zeke did, albeit carefully. The anger disappeared from Levi’s voice. So did hostility. Now he sounded strangely amicable.

Inside the glove compartment was a gun. Zeke stared at it curiously, not quite knowing what to make of it.

“It’s Hange’s,” Levi mumbled like it explained anything.

“And?”

Levi huffed. “And you should take it. I don’t know what’s waiting for us, and I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to protect you.”

Well, that was certainly… a surprising turn of event.

“You trust me that much?”

Zeke honestly wasn’t sure if he would have trusted himself that much. And yet Levi…

“Hange trusts you,” Levi simply said.

Zeke gawked at him. Was it actually that simple to him? Did he have so much trust and faith in Hange that he was ready to put his own beliefs aside?

Something painful bloomed in his chest as Zeke pondered on it. He wondered what it would feel like – to have someone you could trust as easily as yourself, what it would feel like to know that there was someone you could share your everything with. Must be a truly elating feeling.

“We’re almost there,” Levi announced, taking a turn to the left. “Get ready.”

Zeke nodded and took out the gun, getting familiar with its weight.

“It’s Hange’s,” Levi reminded. “So take care of it.”

He honestly hadn’t expected anything else from Levi, so with a low chuckle Zeke replied, “Will protect it with my life, detective.”

Levi’s answer was a short, but unexpectedly soft grunt that made Zeke let out another laugh.

A horrifying in its simplicity thought came right after. Were the two of them bonding?

It should have disgusted him, but it didn’t. It was actually nice in its own, weird way.

However, Levi took another turn, and Zeke’s joyful feelings disappeared. He knew where they were heading now. His old safe house.

So they really were targeting him? But who these they were? And what exactly did they want?

Either way, he’d be able to unravel this mystery in a matter of minutes. For now, Zeke hoped that he’d stuck for the winning team.

Even if he hadn’t, though, it was good that Levi found him before the police had found the bodies of Hange and that Petra. He could only imagine what cops would do to him if they thought that Zeke killed two of their own.

Levi parked the car next to an old abandoned building. He opened the door, putting one foot on a ground. Before he got out, he turned back and fixed his hard eyes Zeke.

“I trust you,” he said. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Zeke could only nod in reply. He wanted to say something else, but by the time he found his words, Levi was already out of the car.

Zeke took his first step towards Levi, when a loud sound – the unmistakable bang of a shotgun – carried around the empty neighborhood.

Levi froze, tensed and then started running. Zeke cursed and followed after him. To his shame, despite his long legs, he could barely keep up.

The entrance to the safe house was already within their eyesight. The building was surrounded by police from all sides. The best of the best, Zeke had no doubt about it.

The second gunshot rang not long after the first one, forcing Levi to run even faster. Zeke rushed after him, sweating and already out of breath.

When they finally got there, the police was ready to attack, their guns drawn and expressions determined.

“Wait!” Levi shouted as they approached.

As on cue, everyone turned their heads to them.

The blonde man on the front stepped forward, his features simultaneously showing relief and confusion.

“Levi,” he shifted his eyes from Levi to Zeke. “Where is—”

“I don’t know.”

“And him?” the man gestured to Zeke. “Can we—”

“Don’t really have a choice. He promised to help for what it’s worth.”

“Alright. Then let’s go. Ready, Levi?”

“Of course, Erwin.”

Oh, that was Erwin Smith? The myth, the legend of the city’s police? Zeke had to admit he was just as impressive in person as the rumors about him promised he would be. He would have loved to observe more of him, to see for himself if he was truly that charismatic.

Although, if he had people like Levi and Hange following him, then there was no doubt that Erwin too was an exceptional person.

Right now, however, Zeke had no time to dwell on it.

“Follow me,” Levi ordered, dragging Zeke behind him. They entered the building together, but when Levi headed to the first turn on the left, Zeke pulled him away.

“No,” he took his gun out and nodded to the long hallway. “You follow me, Levi.”

For a second, Levi hesitated, his eyes flashing. But then studied Zeke’s face, and whatever he had seen there, it had eased his distrust.

“Then lead the way,” he agreed.

The hallways of safe house were dark and quiet, but not for long. As soon as Erwin and his team had entered, the chaos filled every corner.

Zeke rolled his eyes, why did he even expect anything else from that bunch. Still, he would have preferred to approach it with as much stealth as it was possible. Who knew what their enemies would do if they find out that they’re done for.

If it was Floch who was involved in kidnapping, and he must have, since not many people knew about this place, then Zeke knew the room he would choose to stay. The same room where he had lost his calm and detective Hange had lost an eye. He led Levi there, but as they neared their destination, Zeke saw a shadow that ran to the back door.

He caught just a glimpse of the shadow’s face, but that was enough.

He looked just like his father. His baby brother… Was it really him who was out for his blood?

“Go,” he told Levi, already moving in the direction Eren had disappeared. “If there is someone in this house, they’re right behind next door.”

“And you?” Levi didn’t stop him, but he made him pause. However, his eyes showed no distrust this time. Only concern.

“I need to take care of something first,” Zeke said resolutely. “But I’ll be back.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” Levi reminded him, and then let Zeke go.

Zeke watched Levi move forward, and then turned around, heading to the back door.

It was time he had a talk with his brother.

***

Levi didn’t know what he had expected to see behind the door Zeke had pointed him to.

He hoped to see Petra, preferably along with Hange, well and unharmed with their enemies trembling in a corner.

He was afraid to enter and come face to face with Petra, who was bleeding and injured.

He absolutely refused to think about finding Petra and Hange, but realizing that he was already too late.

What he didn’t expect after opening that door was to see Petra trembling and crying. He didn’t expect to see a man standing just a little to her left with a knife raised up in the air. He didn’t expect to see that knife be so close to Hange’s throat.

He didn’t really think before acting, his heart was beating a little too loudly for that.

“Police!” he shouted, raising his gun. “Drop your weapon!”

The man didn’t listen.

Levi’s first shot flew just an inch over the criminal’s head, getting stuck in a wall behind him. The man didn’t even flinch, he turned around just for a moment, long enough to show Levi his bloodthirsty smile.

Levi’s hands trembled, but years of training allowed him to claim a clear shot to the man’s knee all the same.

He yelped and fell down, but Levi wasn’t looking at him anymore. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Erwin and Oluo enter the room. Oluo rushed right to Petra, Erwin met Levi’s eyes and nodded, crouching beside the man Levi just shot.

With everything else taken care of, Levi ran up to Hange. Her face was covered in blood, her shirt too and she was missing her glasses, but when he kneeled down next to her, when their eyes met, she smiled and Levi could finally breathe again.

“You saved me…” her eye was shining so brightly, the edge of it brimming with tears. “I knew you would, Levi.”

The lump in Levi’s throat grew large, too large to swallow, so he simply nodded and went to undo the bindings behind her back, but his fingers kept shaking and the rope refused to give in. He cursed and tried again and again, until Erwin appeared beside him and gently pushed him away.

“Just make sure our Hange is alright,” he whispered with a gentle smile.

He did just as Erwin had told him, but when he looked at Hange again, saw all her injuries and wounds, he was overwhelmed once more. He felt so many things at once – relief, happiness, anger, fear, love. It all swirled around his head, making him dizzy.

What if he wasn’t fast enough? What if he didn’t listen when Zeke told him not to take the first turn or what if he didn’t trust him to go on his own and followed him outside? Just a second more and there would be no Hange. He’d be left alone, without her once again. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to survive it for the second time.

“I’m fine, Levi,” Erwin must have already dealt with the rope, because Hange’s hands were now free and she outstretched them towards him, grasping at his shoulders to pull him closer. “I’m fine.”

She wasn’t, Levi could feel the blood sipping through her shirt and onto his jacket. Hange wasn’t fine, but she was here, with him, still breathing, still warm in his arms. He pressed her to him – desperate, but careful, and took a deep breath, filling himself with her scent. There was almost too much blood and sweat on her, and it was almost enough to mask her true smell, but Levi had still felt it.

He allowed himself another moment to get immersed in it.

“Don’t leave,” he said, not caring that he sounded like he was begging. “Please, don’t leave me again, Hange.”

“I won’t,” there were gentle fingers in hair, then soft lips on his temple. If he wasn’t so out of it, Levi would have been embarrassed. He was the one who was supposed to give Hange comfort right now. She was kidnapped and almost murdered. And yet… the one trembling and panting was him. “And even if I do, I trust you to always get me back home.”

A strong hand on his shoulder forced Levi to look up and pull himself away from Hange.

“We should take her to the hospital,” Erwin said, his face showing the same worry Levi was feeling. “I already called an ambulance. Would you like me to—”

“No,” Levi declined. “I’ll do it myself. C’mon, four-eyes,” he threw her arm around his shoulders and hooked his hand beneath her knees. “Let’s get going.”

Before he lifted Hange up in the air, he glanced back, searching for Petra. She was on the floor with Oluo clinging onto her. The poor sod seemed to be crying, and Petra curled around him, whispering soothing words.

God, and Levi thought he was pathetic.

Tightening his hold on Hange, he gathered her in his arms and slowly stood up.

“Oh no, have I died and gone to heaven?” Hange cackled, throwing her head back. “The great Levi Ackerman is carrying me in his arms…”

Levi rolled his eyes, hiding a smile. Seemed like Hange wasn’t that injured if she was already back to her insufferable self.

“Shut up or I’ll throw you to the ground.”

“Nah,” Hange claimed confidently, ruffling his hair as though to prove her point. “You won’t do that.”

“Absolutely insufferable,” he murmured, shooting Hange a dark look. It was ruined by a smile that he was fruitlessly trying to fight.

Hange smiled back and that’s how Levi knew – they’d be alright.

#look! we're (almost) done! #just two more short chapters and that's it! #levihan

[aknosde]

Omnes Una Manet Nox

The chronologically first installment of my Reyna Swap AU, Alea Iacta Est // Reyna Avilla Ramírez-Arellano // Fluff & Angst, but minor on the angst // the night before Reyna disappears //  tw: mentions past minor character death // light swearing // 4.4k

ao3

—————

“That went well, didn’t it?” Jason asks with that familiar, absently intense energy. They’ve just descended the steps of the Senate after their monthly meeting with the consuls.

The two consuls, in their late thirties, oversee all of Camp Jupiter. Of course, the legion manages their own grounds and budget, under Jason and Reyna’s command, but the little oversight they do get is from the consuls.

Johnson was one of New Rome’s praetors, a few years back. He doesn’t care much about the legion, being from a legacy family and largely skirting his training and service, and he never ceases to make that known. Malhill is the one that always gets under Jason’s defenses. He’s good on policy, good on veterans, good on kids, everything that they could want. But he was the legion’s champion only ten years ago. A direct son of Apollo, a talented archer but an even better bender of light, a legion praetor, and he’s had his eyes on Jason’s career since day one. Reyna’s seen the way he eyes Jason whenever she and Jason are in New Rome, already pegging him for a consul position once Jason’s old enough.

“It went well, Jace,” she says. “Your mission plan is flawless, the only thing that could make them happier is if you’d go on it.” She regrets the words as soon as they’re out of her mouth.

Her remorse is tangible, visible in the line of his spine, the way he taps the place in his pocket where Ivlivs would sit if they were not inside the Pomerian Line, the subtle flick of his wrist.

Not for the first time, she thinks about Mount Othrys. Everything it took from her. Sometimes when she sleeps–not often, but enough–it plays over in her head. But something is always wrong.

She’s leading the charge, but suddenly it’s Jason next to her instead of Michelle. Or Jason and Michelle run into the throne room, but when she closes the door behind them it locks. She makes it into the throne room, slaying all of the Dracaena, but when she enters Atlas is holding Jason over his head, instead of fighting him hand to hand. On the good nights, Michelle isn’t dead when she bursts through the door, on the bad, she watches Michelle die. The one constant is Jason, gold ichor dripping down his face in a horrific mask. When she and Jason land the killing blow, together, she can always see it.

He doesn’t talk about it, of course. Not about Michelle, not about his election, not about the mountain. But she can see it weighing on him through the big things, like how he hasn’t been out of camp borders since the battle, and the small things, like how he glances up at the stars, as if one will come down and crush him any moment.

She rolls her right shoulder, feeling the ligaments shift, as if it will rid her of the thoughts, prepare her for a topic of conversation that often hits a little too close to home.

“Did you hear how Johnson pronounced my name? He’s even worse than you.” Maybe the small huff of a laugh Jason expels is worth it. “‘Miss Ramírez-Arellano,’” she continues, in a nasally imitation of the consul.

“I don’t say it that badly.”

“You say it like a white boy who didn’t know Spanish was a language until two seconds ago.”

“Ramírez-Arellano,” he says, better than consul Johnson, but she still hates hearing it. That girl is long gone, the only thing connecting her to Reyna is Hylla, and although Reyna loves her sister, she’s grateful for the distance that keeps Hylla from being a constant reminder.

“‘We were– were very, erm, dazzled, by your most recent proposition.’” She continues the impression until they are walking through the Praetorian Gate, Jason half hanging off her shoulder and giggling like they’re thirteen again.

He has a nice laugh. A friendly one. It seems to feed off of her volume, her effort, fluctuating the longer he goes. He shouts at her to stop several times, but he’s doubled over in armor, snorting, and all she wants to do is make him laugh like this forever.

It only gets worse on the steps of the Principa, when he decides a good revenge plan is to trip her. The building is dark like the rest of the legion. Two lamps, invisible under the light of day, flank the double doors, but the light is faint and barely makes its way to the stairs, washing everything in a pale yellow. She side steps his foot–his sneakers have reflective decals on them for the sake of the gods, he’s an idiot–but he’s shifted his weight so much that he ends up tripping himself.

They stumble through the doors, still chuckling, and make their way across the great hall as quickly as possible. They must have gotten a new tender for the Principa, because the lights are off like they forgot that people actually live here. Only two people, but still. The darkness makes the place unsettling, and now she’s counting on Jason to keep her occupied. A job he seems all too willing to fulfill as he runs through the next set of doors, still in full armor, clashing against the wood.

Upstairs is worse, she decides. The abandoned lounge reminds her of her childhood living room. Any moment her father could rise from one of the low couches, ready to scoop her up and throw her in her room, that crazed look in his eye.

Something clangs and she jumps.

“What the heck is this?” Jason’s whisper-shouting when she catches up with him in the hallway outside their rooms. He’s partially on the floor–hands keeping him from being face flat–and something is crinkling under his knee.

For some reason all Reyna can say is: “Did you just say ‘heck?’”

“Shut up,” he whines, and she wishes the lights were on just so she could see his ears turning red.

“Of course, farm-boy.”

He’s sitting back on his heels now, she can see the object’s dark outline as he holds it up, rustling in his hands.

“Seriously, what is this thing?” he asks, looking up at her.

“A bag with my old clothes,” she says, squinting. “I was going to see if any legionnaires need some.”

“And you have it by your door so you don’t forget,” he says, explaining for her. In the stress of running for office, of war, she forgot the ways in which they are attuned to each other. She forgot that she doesn’t have to explain and defend her every little action to him. It’s sad that it’s taken her almost two months to remember.

He sets the bag back down, nudging it into almost its exact spot, and hefts himself to his feet with a sigh. His brow furrows once he’s standing, looking out into the middle distance, but he sees the quirk of her brow and quickly explains himself, “We have that meeting with the centurions tomorrow after breakfast.”

Jason is a social person. A true extrovert. He hates being alone, working alone, and the quiet that comes with both. So what he’s really saying is that he has work left to do and wants some company. And who is she to deny him that? “Do you want to work in the main hall, office, or my room?”

He grins, clapping his hands and then raises his palms to the sky. “Bedroom, praise Fortuna.”

“Five minutes, Sparkplug,” she says, bumping her shoulder into his own as she sidesteps him into her room. His eyes follow her as she goes, like she’s his North Star, and damn him for making her heart skip a beat, because in the empty space Venus’ words always echo. She stomps them down, before her face can fall, before the hollow silence can fill the hallway, and in their place she jams a smirk. “If you’re lucky I’ll even edit your speech.”

As her door clicks behind her she can hear him groan, “I just prayed to Fortuna.”

She stands with her hands on her hips, briefly surveying her room to decide what to do first.

Being praetor has its perks, like private bath and bedrooms across the hall from her best friend and king sized beds, but it also means she is no longer in the practice of keeping her space ready for inspections. Her comforter is pulled up, but her bed isn’t made, files are scattered across her desk and on her dresser, and her wardrobe is wide open.

She decides on doing everything at once, which involves a crooked path across her room as she shucks off armor, not bothering with her armor stand, and changes out of the nice clothes she wore to meet the consuls. All the while she turns on lights, puts on sweats, makes her bed, and tucks away files.

Jason knocks on her door five minutes later, that ever punctual bastard, just as she’s zipping her hoodie over her tank top.

“Help me, Reyna,” he says, holding a typed copy of his speech out to her in both hands like some sort of trophy. “You’re my only hope.”

She snorts, snatching the pages out of his hands. “Nice reference.”

He cocks his head to the side, brow furrowed, and she bets if he were actually a wolf one of his ears would be turned as well.

“You just made a Star Wars reference,” she says, but he looks just as confused.

“What’s Star Wars?” He asks warily.

She swears to herself in Spanish, because otherwise he’ll tease her about the legion’s anti-swearing policies, collapsing dramatically back on her bed, and sighs. “It’s a movie trilogy, wolf boy.”

“Ah.”

Another thing she forgot, apparently, is how little Jason knows about basically anything outside of camp. He says he arrived when he was three, and wasn’t even allowed into the city until he was eight, which apparently means he’s never been to a movie theater.

By now he seems used to her telling him about the more innocent aspects of the mortal world, and at the very least takes his lack of knowledge in stride. If only he would watch the movies and shows she’s downloaded on his laptop for him.

When she looks up after reading his introduction he is sitting at her desk, picking at some invisible blemish while subtly putting highlighters away, and looking around her room.

“If you start cleaning I’m throwing you out.”

He grumbles to himself, but she makes out a yes ma’am somewhere in the mix, so she decides to throw him a bone.

“If you want to occupy yourself I have a speech about legion veterans you can fact check,” she says, faux casual, not that he can tell. He needs to do something before he starts picking at his nails instead of the wood.

“Sure.”

“It’s in one of the red folders.”

“Would that be the one on the floor under your desk or the one on your dresser,” he says, sounding far too cheeky.

“The one on my dresser, and stop pretending you’re better than me, asshole.”

He clutches his chest dramatically, walking to her dresser. “Better than the best? How could I be?”

“Mmmhmm,” she responds, half ignoring him in favor of his speech, aware of the ticking clock.

It’s truly impossible for him to stay awake past ten, a fact that is only proven the next time she looks up and he’s asleep at her desk, pen still in hand and a research paper opened on her laptop. No matter how often she reminds him that the regimented lights out of the legion no longer applies to them, he just can’t seem to break the habit.

“Jason.” She nudges his shoulder, extracting the pen at the same moment so he can’t smudge her speech.

His head jerks, eyes alert, but voice groggy when he says, “What’s going on?” All legionnaires wake up in a similar manner, but for some reason it only strikes her as amusing when he does it.

She hadn’t thought of what she was waking him up for, besides a need to do it, and her mind wanders to the Forum, wondering if her favorite café would still be open at this hour. She’s starving, she realizes. Their meeting with the consuls had been pushed back and they had had to skip dinner to make it.

She grins. “Are you hungry?”

“Uh, yeah. How did you know?”

“Roof s’mores?”

“Reyna,” he drags out the last syllable, fading it into a sigh. “That takes energy.”

“Okay, but–” She holds her hands out, weighing them. “Would you rather spend the energy to just walk across the hall and go to sleep, or climb up to the roof with me and roast us a couple marshmallows?”

Jason looks at her like is that a real question? which had been her intention. She folds her hands into a pleading gesture and pouts emphatically–he’s always more flexible when she acts a little silly. “Please, Jace. I got that cheap chocolate you like. I’ll even get the stuff myself, you can go straight up.”

“Fine.” He rolls his eyes and she smiles, satisfied, and already on her way out the door.

The praetorian kitchen reminds her of office break rooms on television, besides the fact that it looks perpetually unnatural, mostly due to the fact that only three people go inside–her, Jason, and the Principa tender–and it’s always pristine. The only things actually kept in there are coffee, tea, and of course: her and Jason’s secret stash of s’more supplies, buried in the back of the cabinet with the untouched bowls.

By the time she’s through the roof access door, conveniently placed to hide it from the view of anyone on the ground, Jason is already sitting by the dark spot of ash that signifies their pastime. Because, yes, they started coming up here long before either of them were elected Praetor.

He’s a dark outline against the night sky, sitting criss-crossed and looking down at the façades of the other legion buildings, and briefly she has the thought that somebody could make a painting out of this. She slides her old Camp Jupiter ID back between the lock and door jamb, willing the thought to disappear with the potential of the fire alarm going off.

She shivers as she sits next to him, nose wrinkling with the cold now that she’s fully vulnerable to the elements. Without a word Jason removes his sweatshirt and passes it to her.

“I’m already wearing one.”

“Mine is thicker, trade me.”

And because he’s Jason, she does.

It’s slightly big on her, his shoulders just a few inches broader than her own, and a forest green. On the back is a printed vine of purple flowers and a date. She recognizes it as one of the prizes of the Ludi Florae, or Games of Flora, from Floralia last year. The festival sits right between April and May, and last year’s was the grandest of all. Or so Jason says. Everyone had been anxious about Mount Othrys, and apparently all of that energy had been funnelled into the events.

Reyna herself had been busy running for praetor. All she remembers from the festival is campaigning. And Jason, running up to her looking flushed, this sweatshirt thrown over one shoulder.

“Remember when I told you that you were the best, Jace,” she says sweetly once she is safely swaddled in his hoodie. He’s right–it is thicker.

Jason grins up at her, wrapping his hands around two marshmallows. “I may recall something along those lines having been said a long, long time ago.”

“Well, I just want to inform you that I retract that statement, because this sweatshirt is ugly and the cuffs are burnt.”

The electricity that had been slowly coursing over the ridges of his fingers flares for a second, and his hands fly open as if he was handed metal straight from the forges. “Oops.” Both of the marshmallows are burnt, but his lips are turned up in a poorly concealed smirk.

“I forget you’re a heathen,” she says primly, sticking her nose in the air instead of saying any of the less wholesome options at the back of her throat.

“Does liking burnt marshmallows make me a heathen?”

She pretends to mull it over for a second, extracting the rest of their supplies. “Yes. You have to buy the next bag because you’re mean and I say so.”

She takes the burnt marshmallow regardless, sandwiching it between her own chocolate and graham crackers. Jason takes three squares of the Hershey bar he likes for absolutely no good reason, and does the same. She shakes her head. He’s the fucking all American boy who sticks with the classics even when he doesn’t know they’re the classics. She has no idea how he does it.

They don’t talk while they eat, regrettably the silence reminding her of her childhood, no matter how hard she pushes against it. She looks up at the stars, trying to forget the cold kitchen, cold house, even in hundred degree heat. It’s times like this when the ring, and the chain she wears it on, weigh heavy on her neck.

It feels like a noose right now, just as much as it feels like freedom, like power, every other second of her life. Like a sentence, compelling her to pay for her crimes, to confess to them, to wreck her world so terribly that she would lose up from down and die. A fair punishment.

“What are you thinking about,” Jason asks a while after they’ve finished. She looks at him, sitting back on his hands, looking at her, not the sky. It’s dark on the roof, but the light from the street lamps seems to center around him. It glints off his hair, visibly blond even in the night, and pours into his eyes. They’re always so blue. So blue it looks fake. But they never cease to pull Reyna in. Sometimes she swears she can see lightning arc across his irises.

He’s always asking her questions like this. Innocent and curious, no ulterior motives, no goals. He genuinely wants to know. And if she doesn’t answer, he’ll drop it, because he always does. It’s not something she’s used to, even after all these years; this place she has in his mind, if not his heart. A place of utter respect. He doesn’t question her because he knows what she is thinking, and when he doesn’t, he accepts her. Would he still, if he knew what she did to her father?

She breaks his gaze with that thought. It’s too much. “My sister,” she says instead, and it doesn’t feel right to look back. Under oath, Reyna would say that Jason is the most important person in her life. Her best friend; the person she sees every day, talks to every day, eats with and works with. He is the closest thing she has to a family here. And she– And she loves him. Maybe as a little more than a friend. But talking about her sister while looking him in the eye feels too intimate, too intense. “She would like you.”

It is something to say, simply to say something, but maybe she isn’t wrong. There is something in Jason that reminds her of the Queen Anne’s Revenge, and not in the way that haunts her nightmares and twists her sheets around her until they become bonds she can’t quite break free of. Being on Blackbeard’s crew, that’s how Reyna learned hard work, in a way she never had before. It had instilled a drive in her, to change everything, to rewrite systems, to make something so beautiful it was unrecognizable. And perhaps Jason doesn’t have that same drive, but he knows the work. He goes out of his way to do it dirty and hard and long. He refuses to take the thousands of shortcuts he’s offered. And Hylla would admire that, she thinks.

“I had a sister,” he whispers.

For a second–just a second–she’s stuck. “What?”

“I had a sister.” He picks at a loose thread on his jeans for a moment, and that’s how she knows he’s serious, because he hates ripping his jeans more than almost anything else. He’s refusing to meet her gaze. “Thalia Grace.”

He says her name soft and tender. She can imagine him, standing over a hearth, cradling the name between his palms and looking at it the same way he first looked when he was gifted Ivlivs. Big, round eyes.

“That’s really nice, Jace,” she says, because he rarely surprises her, and for once she doesn’t know what to say.

He looks up at her, smiling tightly. His eyes are sad. Is that how she looks when she thinks about Hylla?

“You can tell me about her, if you want,” Reyna says when the moment becomes two, and then three, because Jason doesn’t bring up things he doesn’t want to talk about. But Jason also has his own ideas about debt, about worthiness, and it is clear to her that he told her about his sister in exchange for Reyna talking about her own.

He smiles at her. A real smile, if small. She feels warm, and it’s not from his extra thick sweatshirt.

“I don’t remember a lot about her, but… She had black hair. So dark, like the night. And her eyes, they were amazing. Bright blue, like a perfect sky. Sometimes I can see them, in this half-memory half-dream, and they’re so strong they look like how an electric shock feels.”

“Like yours,” she whispers, and Jason hums in a way that makes it frustratingly unclear if he heard her or not. She hopes not.

“When I was little,” he continues, after another moment of staring wistfully over the Twelfth Legion, “I used to imagine she was looking for me. That one day she would find me, here, be proud of me for– I don’t know what. Love me, or something. All that stupid shit.” He trails off again, picking at his nails, but she can’t bring herself to chide him.

There are things that she knows about Jason, true as the sun rising in the east and the pull of the moon on the tides and the sound of imperial gold on whetstone. She knows that he works hard, works with the public, flushes under the compliments of people older than him because he has never had a concrete parental figure. Not even one to hate, to fear, to mourn. She knows that he never trusts praise from these people because he knows his parentage, knows they know, knows that he is connected to his father in the eyes of these people in a way he doesn’t feel himself, and never will.

Truths of Jason that are pillars in her understanding of him, that were pivotal in their relationship. But like so many supports, they were never acknowledged. Truth has no need to be stated, and she has no compellence to state that which is unnecessary. He talks of Thalia, telling Reyna that he wants his sister to want him, to find him, and to love him not because he is a son of Jupiter, but because he’s him.

She doesn’t say, I don’t care about you because you’re the son of Jupiter, I care about you because you are my best friend. And she doesn’t say, I care about you because you listen to people, because you care about them and what happens to them so instinctively that I cannot understand it. She doesn’t say, I’m proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself.

She doesn’t say those things because he knows them, because they are truths, and truths do not need to be said.

But still, something must be done.

She– She’s always been bad at the physical things. She can do a handshake, a fist bump, but she has never been a hugger, no matter that Jason is. She’s never managed a hip-check, or a shoulder pat, or ruffled his hair in any way that wasn’t rough and meant to hurt.

But that doesn’t mean she can’t try.

She goes slow, leaning over slightly, feels the cool breeze breaking on her knuckles. Gently, perhaps more gently than she has done anything in her life, she takes his hands, detangles them, presses her finger pads against the bleeding bits where he’s torn his skin away. She closes her hands around his own, cups them in her palms.

He looks up at her, tears welled on his water line but nothing has spilled, and she feels his hands move in her own, feels him latch on, like when they were young and late for assignments, running across the grounds and refusing to leave each other behind. She looks into his eyes, wide. Electrifying. Just like she knew they were.

She waits for the moment to stretch and break, like moments oft do. Her last move is to give his hands a squeeze, hopefully reassuring, and he gives her another small smile and moves to wipe his eyes with the sleeves of her sweatshirt, the one he’s still wearing.

“We should probably be going to bed,” she says, because she doesn’t have anything else to say. He laughs, wetly, but in that way everybody laughs when they’re told something they already know. It makes her smile; it’s special when he does it.

Everybody isn’t wrong, she thinks as she and Jason part ways outside their rooms, Jason Grace is special. But not because he is the son of Jupiter. He’s special because Reyna had never wanted friends, and here he is, her best. He’s special because he does things, normal things, and they make her smile. He’s special because he does everything in his power to ensure he deserves the love he receives. And gods, she thinks, does he deserve it.

She slips off her necklace and gets under her duvet cover, curling up and fiddling with the cuffs of his sweatshirt. Chunks of the polyester-wool fabric are hard and melted from undoubtedly unfortunate rendezvous with electricity. She finds one, right where his thumb would rest, and rubs it between her own thumb and index finger as she falls asleep.

When she wakes up, she’s on a school bus.

—————

Others in this series: Amicus Certus in re Incerta Cernitur

#there's more info and clarifications in the end notes of ao3 so check those out #but i'm always happy to answer any questions about any of my writing #especially this series #chart writes #fic: Omnes una manet nox #jason grace #reyna avila ramirez arellano #Reyna!Swap au #alea iacta est #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #heroes of olympus #pjo fic #hoo fanfic #hoo #pjo #pjo fanfic #tw death mention #reyna ramirez arellano #riordanverse

[pucksnsticksnhockeyboys]

drive you crazy

summary: there’s absolutely no way you and Matt have feelings for each other, right?

warnings: mentions of past drinking 

word count: 5.1k

note from the writer: my love for sam and rasmus really jumped out in this one, huh. let me know what you think!

Matthew Tkachuk was a constant presence in your life no matter how much you wished he wasn’t. He was loud, cocky, and it absolutely did not help that he knew just exactly how attractive he was.

Not that you found him attractive, of course.

When your roommate and closest friend, Jen, started dating Matt’s teammate Sam Bennett, you were introduced to a whole roster of boys. They were all nice enough, and you quickly developed close friendships with a few. Except, well—

“Matt’s here, and I need you to entertain him.”

“No, absolutely not.” You put your foot down, not caring how much you sounded like a child. Jen pouted, slipping fully into your room and shutting the door. It did little to block out the sound of two raucous hockey players laughing at something in your living room.

“This is the third time this week Matt has crashed our date night and I really need you to just get him out of my hair.” Jen pleaded, sitting on the edge of your bed. You were under the covers, the next episode of your favorite show queued up on your laptop. The last thing you needed was to have Matthew ruin your evening.

“Can’t you just tell him to leave?” You argued, pointing out the obvious while ignoring the blatant fact that Matthew was stubborn and would never be convinced to do something if he truly didn’t want to.

“He won’t listen to us, you need to tell him.” You couldn’t hide the roll of your eyes at her words.

“And what makes you think he’ll listen to me?” If you had known what Jen’s response would be before you asked the question, you would have kept your mouth shut. Instead, you watched in confusion as a grin grew across her face, the one that you knew meant nothing but trouble.

“Because he’s like, in love with you.”

And that was truly something funny, because it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You laughed loudly, knowing there was absolutely no way that he liked you, let alone loved. Your dynamic with the curly-haired forward was defined by constant bickering and backhanded comments—not loving glances and hidden feelings.

“I’m serious! He’ll do anything you say.” Jen added, sensing your disbelief. This was far from the first time she had alluded to Matt’s so-called feelings for you, but she never had been so direct.

“Yeah, right.” You snorted. Jen didn’t say anything at first, and instead shot you a challenging look and stood from the edge of your bed. Her smug look never once waverd as she opened your bedroom door, and without looking away from you called out to the boys in your living room.

“Matt! Can you go with Y/N to the grocery store?” You rolled your eyes at her question. You didn’t need to go to the grocery store, it was just a rouse so she and Sam could have some alone time. Why they couldn’t just go to his place, you weren’t sure, but you were torn out of your thoughts when Matt’s response came soon after.

“Yeah, does she need a babysitter?” His voice was light and it was clear that he was teasing, but you found yourself pouting. Jen grinned, gesturing wordlessly to you as if she was declaring victory in the situation. You hadn’t considered it a competition, but if it was, you figured she was far from winning.

“That doesn’t prove anything.” You huffed, shutting your laptop. As much as you didn’t want to go, you knew from the moment Jen asked you that you would. She was your best friend, and if spending some time with Matthew meant she got some alone time with her boyfriend she already struggled to see as a result of hectic schedules, you would put up with the menace.

“Mhm.” Jen hummed, clearly not believing a word you said. Before either of you could say anything else, your door was pushed the rest of the way open and Matt was standing in your doorway, his typical smug grin on his face.

“It’s nine o’clock and you’re already in pajamas?” He teased upon spotting the sleepshorts and oversized t-shirt you had put on. Making your way to the closet, you briefly acknowledged Jen shooting you one last look before slipping out.

“Not all of us need to stay out every night.” You shot back, pulling out a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt to wear as a defense against the Calgary cold. Tossing the clothes on your bed, you turned to see Matt still standing in your doorway. “Can you leave so I can get changed?”

“Are you sure you want me to leave?” Cocky smirk on full display, it took everything in you not to throw something at him.

“Matthew.” You warned with a glare leveled at him. He raised his hands as if he was claiming innocence, and you rolled your eyes at his response.

“Kidding.” He chuckled lowly, before finally leaving the room. You sighed once the door was shut, running your hands down your face to try and rid yourself of the image of Matt grinning handsomely.

It’s Matthew, you reminded yourself. The same Matthew that took joy in critiquing every guy you mentioned you were interested in with a harshness you had only seen in his eyes on the ice. Not that you paid much attention to him while he was on the ice. The point was, you should not be letting Jen’s words get to you.

Matt didn’t like you, he liked annoying you.

Hurrying to get changed, you met Matt waiting for you in the hallway outside your bedroom. He had been mindlessly scrolling through his phone, but upon hearing your door open and shut, he shoved the device into his pocket and looked to you with a grin so wide he rivalled the Cheshire Cat.

“Ready?” You questioned, hoping to avoid finding out what exactly was making him so smug and keep things civil. You weren’t sure exactly how long you were supposed to entertain Matt, but you’d rather spend as little time with him bickering as possible.

“Nice sweatshirt.” He commented, and you had to look down and see which one you grabbed. It was an old Flames one that didn’t even technically belong to you. You weren’t sure why Matt was so smug about seeing you supporting his team, since you’d been to your fair share of games.

“Thanks, Rasmus gave it to me when I spent the night at his a few weeks ago after we all went drinking.” You explained absentmindedly. While you spoke, you began heading towards the front door, so you missed the way Matt’s expression fell. You did see Jen’s smug grin, and watched Sam shoot Matt a look you didn’t have time to decipher. “See you guys later.” You waved with one hand while the other reached up to grab your car keys. Before you could get them off the hook, though, Matt’s hand shot forward and snatched them up.

“I’m driving.” He grinned. A dozen and one protests came to mind, but you chose to simply roll your eyes and head out the door. You heard Jen shout something along the lines of ‘use protection’ before she was shut out by the door, and you opted to ignore her teasing. You glanced at Matt out of the corner of your eye, and to your surprise you noticed a faint blush on his cheeks.

You scrolled through your phone as you waited for the elevator, trying to ignore the fact that your perfect evening plans of a night in were ruined by Matt. Well, Matt and Jen. The elevator arrived and only once you were both inside and the doors were shut, did Matt clear his throat to get your attention.

“So what do you need at the store?” He sounded genuinely curious, and you couldn’t help but snort at his question. The sound drew a smile out of him, and you briefly wondered why your heart fluttered as it did. “What’s so funny?”

“I don’t need anything, Jen just wanted me to get you out of the apartment so you’ll stop third-wheeling her and Sam.” You explained with a lightness to your voice that usually wasn’t present when you were with Matt. He let out a loud laugh just as the elevator doors opened, and you followed him out.

“Well, I’m not going to hang out at a grocery store if you don’t need anything.” He explained as he led the way out of your building and towards where your car was always parked. You watched in curiosity as he moved to the passenger side of your car, and your brows tugged together in confusion as Matt opened your door for you.

“What are you doing?” You asked skeptically. You were certain there was going to be some joke in there somewhere, but you couldn’t find it and he didn’t seem like sharing it.

“Being a gentlemen?” He replied with just as much confusion as you. You tried to hide the way your lips quirked up in a grin, but he noticed and repeated the action himself.

“I didn’t know you knew how to do that.” You quipped as you climbed into the passenger seat. Matt didn’t take your comment too seriously, and instead you heard him chuckle as he gently shut your door. In the time it took for him to go around the car and get in on the driver’s side, you thought about why he was being so nice.

Maybe Jen did have a point.

No, he was Matt and you were you. You weren’t exactly friends, so you definitely weren’t anything more. But the way he was acting was definitely something more. Your heart started to race and you wanted to kick yourself, but you couldn’t exactly do anything about it as the driver’s side door opened and Matt slipped in.

“So, where are we going then?” You asked, hoping the mundane question would help calm your sudden and completely new nerves. Except, the universe was apparently not on your side, because in response Matt shot you a wide grin and you felt a circus of butterflies flutter inside you that had never been there before.

“It’s a surprise.” He told you, backing out of your parking spot. You busied yourself with plugging the aux cord into your phone and picking music, giving yourself time to compose yourself.

“I don’t like surprises, Matthew.” You replied, hoping that now since the silence in the car was filled by music, it wouldn’t be so awkward.

“You can call me Matt, you know.” He told you, casting a glance towards you with an unreadable expression in his eye before focusing back on the road. Your brows tugged together in confusion at his words, and he must have seen the look on your face because he elaborated before you had the chance to voice anything. “You always call me Matthew, but you can call me Matt.”

“Okay, well, Matt,” you emphazied, drawing a laugh out of him. “I don’t like surprises.”

“I’ll give you a hint. It’s someplace we’ve both been together.” And while you still were confused about where he was taking you, it certainly narrowed the list down. There wasn’t a lot of places you had been with Matt, considering that you and him were little more than people who bickered often and happened to share close mutual friends. There wasn’t even a title for the type of relationship you and Matt had.

“You’re not taking me to a bar, are you? It’s a Tuesday, Matt.” You groaned, jumping to conclusions about where he was taking you. If you were hanging out with him outside your apartment, it usually meant everyone was going out drinking. And since your apartment was currently off limits, you assumed he was taking you to the usual bar he and the boys always picked.

“It’s not a bar.” He chuckled brightly at your response. You couldn’t help it, you found your self smiling softly at him as he focused on the road. Calgary’s night lights lit up his face and you distantly wondered if that was the reason he had been driving you crazy all night—a different type of crazy than he usually made you. You knew you were in danger when the corners of his lips turned up in the smug way they typically did, but it was too late. “You’re staring.”

“Am not.” You defended childishly. At this point, you were just trying to save face. He chuckled at this, turning his attention fully to you. It was then that you realized that at some point, Matt had pulled into a parking spot and you hadn’t even noticed.

“You’ve been staring.” He teased, smug look on his face that you couldn’t argue because no matter how much it pained you to admit, he was right. Instead, you opted to roll your eyes and look at where Matt had taken you.

“Frank and Mary’s?” You questioned, unrestrained glee in your voice as your head whipped from the diner to Matt. Frank and Mary’s was a hole in the wall diner that you frequented while either drunk or hungover, and one time you had dragged not only Sam and Jen there one night, but Matt and a litany of others. It was your favorite, and you remember telling the others that countless times.

“I figured we could get milkshakes and fries and not tell my trainer about it.” You laughed at this, a real and genuine laugh and Matt’s grin turned into a real and genuine smile. “Good idea, right?”

“You were bound to have one eventually.” You teased, though there was no trace of malice in your words. Matt smiled at you for a moment longer, his gaze softening and you felt his studying his face. You coudn’t get mad at him for it, you had been caught staring at him only moments earlier, but it was more than that. You didn’t want to get mad at him for it.

“Let’s go inside, yeah?” He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but you. A frown etched by confusion found home on your features as you tried to understand his change in behavior. Nonetheless, you got out of your car after him, smiling politely as he held the diner door open for you.

You picked a booth to sit in, and Matt didn’t complain as he sat opposite you. The time before the waitress arrived was spent silently shedding coats and avoiding the other’s eye. You smiled politely as the waitress set two menus on the table and got her notepad out to write down orders.

“What can I get you guys?” She asked sweetly, looking between you and Matt. You opened your mouth to order, but he beat you to it.

“Two chocolate milkshakes and an order of fries, please.” He said, handing her the menus back. You nodded, affirming that was your order before she slipped away to start making them. You raised a brow at Matt, a wordless question of why he knew your order. “You may have mentioned they’re your favorite once or twice the night you dragged us here.”

“They’re really good.” You defended meekly, having a hard time forming a thought that wasn’t why would he remember that and other things about him that weren’t useful at the moment. Matt chuckled, and for a moment it was quiet again. You smiled softly at him, and he readily returned it, but something flashed in his eyes as his gaze fell to the sweatshirt you were currently wrapped up in.

“So, you and Rasmus, huh?” He tried to sound nonchalant, but you heard an edge in his tone. Your brows scrunched together in confusion as you tried to understand the meaning of his words, and when it clicked, your eyes widened.

“There is no me and Rasmus. We’re just friends.” You assured him, unsure of why you felt a need to make it clear to him that you weren’t seeing one of his teammates, or anyone, for that matter. He was Matthew, the guy that drove you crazy and annoyed you with his constant teasing comments. The guy that was always at your apartment, third wheeling Jen and Sam until they either kicked him out or he found his way to your room to bother you.

The guy you wouldn’t mind kissing every once in while.

“You sure about that?” Matt questioned with a ghost of his usual smug grin, dragging you out of your earth-shattering thoughts. You wanted to kiss Matthew. You wanted to kiss Matthew. You. Matthew. You and Matthew.

Well, that was a problem.

“Yes, I’m sure, you dick.” You teased, hoping your words didn’t reflect that you were freaking out. That you weren’t going crazy about the idea that maybe all your so-called annoyance at him was just some ploy to cover up your feelings for him, a ploy so clever that not even you knew about it. “Guys don’t like me like that.”

“Well, that’s not true.” Matt interrupted your mental panic, because you absolutely had not meant to voice that to him. It was a subtle confession about how he didn’t like you like that, Rasmus and any other guy being the furthest thing from your mind.

“What?” You questioned rapidly, hoping that maybe he was making a not-quite confession like you had. That maybe he liked you and he wasn’t just trying to be nice.

“Hm?” He hummed, as if he hadn’t said anything and suddenly all your hopes came crashing down around you. Both of you were saved from having to come up with something to say, because just then the waitress returned.

“So, is this date night?” She made small talk as she set the first milkshake in front of you. You weren’t sure who was flushed more, you or Matt, but either way you were rushing to shake your head while he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Nope.” Matt’s smile was tight as his gaze met yours in a moment that felt charged with something you couldn’t place. “We’re just friends.”

You had two weeks to figure out why the statement made your stomach twist the way it did. Two weeks before you saw Matt again.

“Matt’s coming tonight.”

“Okay.” You told Jen, not looking up from your phone as you scrolled through it on the couch. You didn’t have to look up to see the confused look she gave you, and when you saw her out of the corner of your eye stand before you with her hands on her hips, you sighed and looked up.

“Okay? What do you mean okay? You’re never okay when Matt’s here.” She questioned, and you couldn’t help the grin that made it’s way onto your face at the way she was so perplexed by you being nice to Matt.

“Aren’t you the one that wants me to be friends with him?” You teased, locking your phone and dropping the device into your lap. An expesperated look crossed Jen’s face, and you felt as if you were being scolded by a parent.

“No, I want you to be more than friends with him. And I need that to happen tonight because I have a bet with Sam and—” She started explaining, and you sat up as she piqued your curiosity with her last few words.

“What? You have a bet on Matt and I?” You asked, waving hand around to cut off her rambling.

“Yes, because it’s so obvious that you two belong together!” She didn’t even pretend to be ashamed by her actions, and you couldn’t find it in you to be mad at her. After all, you did have a similar bet going on when she and Sam first started seeing eachother—but that was different. Sam clearly liked her, while Matt was just another of your friends.

“You’re ridiculous.” You told her flatly, leaning back against the couch once more. She scoffed at this, reminding you once more that somehow you ended up in a position to be scolded by her like you were a child.

“And you’re blushing.”

“Am not!” If you weren’t before, you definitely were then, and you wanted nothing more than to have the ground open up and swallow you whole. So what if the idea, however unlikely, of Matt liking you made you flushed. You were only human, after all.

“Mhm, keep denying it.” She hummed, clearly amused by the whole situation. You shook your head, grabbing your phone and standing from the couch. You began your retreat to your room, Jen hot on your heels.

“I don’t have a thing for Matt, he drives me crazy.” You told her, a little white lie. Because he did drive you crazy, but no longer in the ‘he’s so annoying, I want him leave’ way, but in a ‘he’s so annoying, I want him’ way.

“That’s because you—” She called after you, grin evident in her tone despite not even looking at her.

“Don’t finish that.” You warned, sitting on the edge of your bed. Your suspicions had been correct, Jen was grin smugly ear to ear and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her.

“I’m just saying!” She defended herself, as if she was innocent in the situation. You shot her a pointed look, but decided to not comment further.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to be in my room, I’m not up for hanging out tonight.” You sighed. It wasn’t a lie, you weren’t in the mood to be around everyone after a tiresome day at work and an exhausting two weeks dealing with your unrequited feelings for Matt. Jen pouted, but knew when to back off. She sent you a pitiful smile and told you to have fun, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. With one last look, she slipped out of your room and shut your door behind her.

As soon as she was gone, you changed into a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, a considerable upgrade from the uncomfortable work clothes you had previously been wearing. Crawling into bed, you opened your laptop and put on your favorite show. It didn’t take long for your mind to wander, especially when you heard the boys and Jen laughing at something in the living room. From what you could tell, it was more than just Matt and Sam, recognizing the voices of Johnny, Sean, and Rasmus before a knock at your bedroom door startled you.

“Come in.” You called, only half surprised to see Matt stick his head in the door. He grinned at you, and you waited for the comment about you being antisocial and curled up in bed, but it never came.

“Why aren’t you out with everyone?” He asked, sounding genuinely curious. He stepped into the room fully, and you feared he could hear your heart pounding as he shut the door behind him.

“I don’t feel like it tonight.” You explained with a shrug. “Why aren’t you?”

“I wanted to see you.” He explained as if it was that simple. As if your mind currently wasn’t racing a thousand miles a minute to try and decipher what that meant. He sat on the edge of your bed, body turned towards you. You noticed a faint blush on his cheeks, and you briefly wondered if you looked just as flustered. “I’m kinda waiting for you to tell me to leave.”

“Would you even listen if I told you that?” You grinned, watching with a warm feeling in your chest as his smile widened and he chuckled.

“Is that an invitation to stay?” He hummed before kicking off his shoes and standing. And, well, you didn’t exactly say no as he pulled back the edge of your comforter and climbed in beside you. Before you really knew it, you were curled into Matt’s chest with his arm around you as he sat up against your headboard, laptop playing a show you truly couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anymore.

Your head was tucked under his chin with a hand resting on his chest. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest, but also the rapid beating of his heart. You tried not to think that maybe you were making him nervous, because that would just lead to you getting your hopes up. Instead, you focused on the way his fingers were trailing absentmindedly up and down your arm, the other resting innocently on the crook of your knee that he had hitched across his lap shortly after laying down.

It was another two episodes before the silence was broken between you and Matt for something more than him making a comment about the characters or how he was completely lost on the plot. Two of the characters in the show were confessing their love for each other, and as soon as the scene started, you felt Matt’s already rapidly beating heart increase in pace. Deciding you throw caution to the wind, you called his name softly. He only hummed in response, eyes glued to the screen, so you paused the show and called his name again. This time, you earned his full attention, brows drawn together in confusion in such an adorable way you felt your confidence slipping away.

Now or never, you thought.

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” You asked, and then immediately wanted to kick yourself. It wasn’t the question you wanted to ask, but it was better than nothing, you supposed. You weren’t expecting Matt you laugh, though, and hold you just a little bit tighter to avoid having to answer. Your hand settled back over his heart to prove to yourself it really was beating abnormally fast, and when he wouldn’t meet your gaze, you called his name again. “Matty.”

And if you thought that his heart was beating quickly before, after the simple nickname fell past your lips, you thought he’d explode.

“It’s ‘cause of you.” He mumbled, your own heart picking up in pace. He was suddenly being shy, and you were certain you had never seen Matthew Tkachuk shy, at all, ever.

“What?” You asked for clarification, not wanting to get ahead of yourself. All signs were pointing towards what you hoped for, but you needed to be certain.

“You drive me crazy.” He confessed, his blue eyes finally meeting yours head on. You propped yourself up on your elbow so your face was level with him, and even though he was right beside you with an arm around you, you felt miles away as you tried to process what he said.

“Matthew…” You said softly after a moment, knowing that you needed to say something. He must have interpreted your lack of response as something bad, because the hopeful look on his face fell and he began backtracking.

“I know that I annoy you and that you don’t like me, but I had to tell you. I can go—” He started, and when he grabbed the covers as if to climb out of your bed you snapped to reality, grabbing his hand and effectively halting his movements.

“Matthew.” You stated, a lot more firmer than you had moments before. A grin grew on your face, and you saw his shoulders visibly relax. “Shut up for a moment, please?” A smile toyed with the corners of his lips and he nodded, but otherwise he complied. “You do annoy me.”

A puzzled look crossed his face—that clearly wasn’t what he thought you’d say.

“You’re annoying and yet, somehow, that’s endearing. We bicker and tease each other but at the end of the day I don’t actually hate you. And I don’t think I could ever actually hate you.” Your confession was quiet, and as you finished you used your free hand to cup his jaw. He leaned into your touch slightly, the simple act nearly melting you entirely. “You drive me crazy, too, Matthew.”

It was almost as if he couldn’t stop himself then, surging forward to connect your lips in a kiss you hadn’t realized you had been waiting months for. He was much more gentler than you thought he would be, but as the kiss went on he had you pressed into the mattress. When he finally pulled away so you both could catch your breath, he was hovering over you, bracing himself with his arms so not to lay his full weight on you.

“A good crazy, I hope.” Matt teased, grin wide and happy before he ducked down for another kiss. You giggled against his lips, revelling in the way you felt ten times lighter after confessing your feelings. Knowing that how you felt was reciprocated washed away any worries you had, and the smile you wore was truly genuine.

“A very good crazy.” You affirmed, looking at him with adoration. You brushed your hand through his curls that you wished he would grow out and take better care of, your hand settling on the back of his neck to gently guide him down for another kiss. You were so lost in Matthew that you didn’t hear your door open.

“I called it!” Jen announced loudly, causing Matt to roll off of you in shock. You glared at your roommate while the rest of the boys groaned, muttering complaints about how Jen won the bet or how Matt should have just waited a few days.

“Jen!” You threatened while flustered. Matt dropped his head back against your pillows, clearly annoyed at his teammates for interrupting while you were just embarrassed. It wasn’t a big deal, you knew, but it wasn’t exactly enjoyable having your roommate walk in on you making out with someone. Especially the someone she had been trying to get you to go out with for what seemed like forever.

“We’re leaving. You two have fun.” Sam winked at Matt, and when Matt shot you a look, you frowned and swatted at his shoulder. He laughed at your response, letting you know he had been just teasing.

“Use protection!” Jen shouted her favorite line as Sam pulled her out of the room and Johnny shut the door with a smug grin you weren’t used to seeing from him. You groaned as soon as your friends left, flopping back against your pillows and earning a chuckle from Matt.

“I change my mind.” You huffed, grabbing Matt’s hand and toying with his fingers to distract yourself from your friend’s interruption. He shot you a curious look, and your heart raced at the thought that he was finally yours. “They drive me crazy.”

“As long as I’m the only one that gets to kiss you.” He mumbled, having already leant down to connect your lips together. You hummed against him, fingers curling into his hair as he pulled back slightly to admire you.

“That, you are.”

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