#i was on the phone with Cass last night when this was happening

[swordsandholly]

Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #call of duty #cod x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #ghost x reader #plus size reader #fat reader #reader insert #simon riley x you #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #smut #cod smut #reader insert smut #one shot #Ghost with OCD is my roman empire #he’s so much more well adjusted than I usually write him but it was fun #holly writes

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 9

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: anyone else excited for me to actually update?? This part’s a bit short, sorry! Gotta set some things up tbh. I’m so so so excited for part 10. Cassian has big annoying little brother energy in this. Honestly Az does not make an in person appearance in this part, but just you wait 😉

(Masterlist)

The warm water of the shower felt incredible, your mind unwinding as the water falls down your body. Thoughts of last night swirl through your mind, remembering how Azriel’s skin felt on yours.

You start going over the previous night again, from the way his eyes wandered over your body to the grip he had on you on the way home.

You were fucked.

You were pouring shampoo into your hand, trying to decide the odds that this was all a joke to Azriel, when the door to your bedroom opened.

You usually leave the door unlocked because Cassian has to reset the router pretty regularly, but you don’t think much of it until he is swinging open the door to your bathroom, letting in a cool breeze. You stick your head out of the curtain, hiding the rest of your body.

“Cassian,” you hiss, “what are you doing?”

“I don’t like eating alone,” he tells you, shrugging as he peels an orange.

“Cassian.”

“What?” He asks, words garbled from speaking through his orange slice.

“I’m in the shower.”

“So?”

You roll your eyes, pulling a hand out to emphasize your point. “I’m naked. In the shower.”

“There’s a curtain for a reason,” his tone sounding bored of this argument.

“You got a text from Az,” he says, annoyed as he looks at your screen that he can’t view the message. You drop your conditioner at his words, the clang of it echoing in the small room as you bend down to pick it back up.

“Just leave it, I’ll check it in a minute.”

"I hope it's a poem about how beautiful you are."

You roll your eyes, despite Cassian not being able to see you.

"I bet it says how annoying you are."

Cassian's gasp fills the room, "I am not annoying."

You poke your head out of shower, "we have weekly meetings to discuss how annoying you are."

In an act of complete maturity, you follow your statement by sticking your tongue out at him. Cassian holds your phone up to your face, letting it unlock the screen for him.

He sticks his tongue back out at you, "Thanks!"

He starts scuttling out of the room, yelling behind him, "if I'm lucky, you've sent Azzy some classy nudes!"

You start sputtering, yanking the shower curtain away, grabbing your towel, and quickly wrapping it around yourself as you follow after Cassian, not even turning the shower off.

"Aww, in this text he called you cute."

"Cassian."

He starts typing a response, his fingers flying over your phone. You hear the woosh of a sent message, and you stare at him, mouth open.

"What did you send him?"

He waggles his eyebrows, then hands you back your phone.

"You'll never know."

You look down at the phone in your hands, and sure enough, Cassian had sent him a text and promptly deleted it. The sick bastard.

"Cassian."

Your roommate simply shrugs at the tenseness of your tone, "I told him how you love him and how you want his precious babies."

You grit your teeth as Cassian makes kissing noises at you, debating the legal and moral ramifications of murdering Cassian when your phone chimes in your hands.

Azriel: thanks, I like your hair too :)

You look up at Cassian, a shit-eating grin on his face.

"You told him I liked his hair?"

"Yep," he says, biting into an apple, its crunch aggrevating some deep part of your brain.

“You’re the worst,” you say, opening your door and shutting it quickly behind you.

Later that night, Rhys decides to stop by to see Cassian, wanting to watch a rugby match on Cassian’s tv. Much to Rhys’s horror, Cass does have the larger tv.

Rhys starts to come in through the door to the apartment, but he can’t get the door opened more than a few inches because of a weight blocking him.

“What are you doing?” You ask, head peaking in the six inch crack of the door.

He looks confused, then looks around. “Trying to come in to watch rugby with Cass.”

“No you’re not.”

He tries to push against the door, but you keep it firmly in place. “I’m certainly trying to.”

“You’re not coming in - it’s girl’s night.”

He looks inside, confusion on his face as he huffs, “I see Cassian over there.”

“We voted to let him stay.”

Rhys looks offended. “And why not me?”

You lower your voice, leaning in closer to him, “because Feyre doesn’t invite boys she wants to talk about.”

His smirk grows predatory, as he surveys Feyre, Mor, and Cassian inside the apartment. “And why wasn’t Az invited?”

Your face flushes with heat, “we didn’t think it was his scene.”

Rhys snorts, leaning against the door frame. Knowing Rhys, he’d stay there until he got what he wanted to hear. “Az loves gossip more than anyone. Tell me why he isn’t invited and I’ll leave you be.”

You two glare each other down, a sight which must have looked quite amusing to anyone who didn’t note the seriousness of both of your faces.

You mumble out, “we don’t invite boys we want to talk about.”

He puts a hand around his ear, “I’m so sorry, dear, what was that?”

You grit you teeth, looking upward in hopes a god or a titan or someone would smite Rhysand and his stupid smug grin on the spot.

You let out a long breath, trying to let all the anger out so you can say distinctly, “we do not invite the boys we want to talk about.”

His eyes dance with amusement, his weight dropping from the door almost causing you to fall. “Well why didn’t you just say so? Maybe we’ll have a boys night - talk about you divine feminine creatures.”

He starts strolling back down the hall, “tell Cassian he’s welcome to join us.”

You close the door on him, dead-bolting the door so he can’t come in, turning back to reclaim your spot next to Feyre on one of the couches, Mor and Cassian next to each other on the other one.

“Now, I know we all gathered here to spend time together, but I showed up because I wanted someone to tell me what the hell is going on between you and Azriel.”

Mor stabs her teriyaki chicken with her fork, pointing it at you. You choke, trying not to laugh as the chicken falls off the fork back into the takeout container.

Cassian interrupts, his mouth full of rice as he says, “yeah what’s going on between you two?”

Your cheeks heat, all the attention in the room on you as you say, “nothing’s going on, Mor,” and grab a mouthful of sesame chicken with your chopsticks to prevent them from probing further.

It does not work. Instead, Feyre chimes in, “you guys were awfully close last night at karaoke.”

Mor points at Feyre with her fork, “she sat on his lap to and from Rita’s.”

Feyre gasps, sitting up, “you sat on his lap?” Then she looks at you with a mischievous glint, “could you feel him?”

She waggles her eyebrows as you throw an eggroll at her, earning you a soft hey in response.

“Feyre, watch your language around Cassian’s virginal ears.”

Mor spits out her drink, “there’s nothing virginal about what we do at night.”

She high fives Cassian, who is suspiciously quiet during this whole exchange.

“Hey,” you say to him, getting him to look up from his rice at you, “why’d you say it was good that my date was bad?”

“When’d I say that?” Cassian asks, tucking his phone under his thigh.

You roll your eyes, “literally yesterday when Az and I dropped off lunch for you.”

Mor whistles, “Az took you for a ride.”

Feyre’s eyes light up and you roll your eyes at her sing-song voice, still looking to your roommate. Cassian starts fidgeting, unsure what to do with his hands, “uh nothing he just was- kinda ugly.”

Your brows press down in a hard line, “okay, Cassian, he might not have been your cup of tea but he certainly wasn’t ugly.”

“But he wasn’t pretty like Azriel,” Mor chimes in, a smirk on her lips.

You throw your hands up, “whoa whoa whoa, I invited you guys over for chinese food and silly romcoms, why am I being ambushed about Azriel?”

“Because he likes you,” Feyre says, pouring herself a glass of rosé. You look to Feyre, trying to silently tell her you don’t want to have this conversation here with Cassian, but she keeps her eyes on her lo mein, a noodle slipping from her chopsticks.

“Az sure did enjoy you in the Barbie costume last night, babe.” Mor had an absolutely feral look to her as she starts, “I bet he had a fun night thinking about it with his hand wrapped around his- hey!”

You threw a pillow in her direction, trying desperately to get her to shut up.

“Hey, even Cassian thinks you guys would be cute, and he isn’t the most observant.”

Cassian picks the pillow up, hitting Mor with it again. “Thanks, Mor.”

“You’re welcome, baby.”

You turn to Feyre and the two of you make kissing noises at each other, then direct them at Mor and Cassian.

“Hey, we’re mature adults who just fool around. And do you know why we work so well?”

You put your head on your hand, looking up to Mor, “oh wise and beautiful Mor, please tell me why you and my roommate are so good at having sex with each other.”

Feyre snorts, but Mor responds, “because we talk to each other. We’re adults.”

“It’s different,” you say, going back to your chicken.

“How is it any different?”

“There aren’t any stakes for you two,” you say, and Feyre nods eagerly. “There aren’t any emotions - you two just have sex and you know that’s what you both want.”

Feyre nods enthusiastically, and you narrow your eyes at her, “and why aren’t we grilling you about the other boy? Hmmmm?”

Her cheeks blush, as her mouth opens and closes, trying to form words.

“Because she didn’t spend all of karaoke night whispering to him. Especially not during my performance.” Cassian ends his words with a huff, taking a swig of his beer.

“You mean our performance?” Mor ask, “we made it what it was.”

Cassian rolls his eyes, but lets it go, pulling his phone back out. “I’m going to order more Chinese - anyone want anything?”

Everyone’s responses echo, but you make out both Feyre and Mor asking for more crab rangoons.

Cassian lets out a soft, “it’ll be here in 30 minutes, let’s start this chick flick.”

Mor smacks him on the chest, “Pride and Prejudice is not a chick flick! It is cinema!”

As Mor and Feyre try to convince Cassian that he will love Kiera Knightley, your thoughts linger to the other side of the wall you shared. You wondered what they were up to tonight, what Azriel was doing, if Cassian and Rhys give him a hard time about you.

Of all the thoughts you had of them, the thought hadn’t occurred to you that Cassian would be texting Rhys updates throughout the night.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel x y/n #acotar writing

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

And they were roommates. 1-4

Summary: Your roommate comes to save you from a bad date and ends up saving your whole night.

Pairing: FemReader x Jason Todd

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, choking, teasing, swearing, praise, asshole men, drinking, plot? whos she?, Friends to lovers, Roommates!AU, Jason is the hood but his roommate has no idea. Mean names for mean men.

AN: OMG they were roommates. Soft Jason is getting me through my days right now.

Edit: Apparently I need to put numbers on theses, because I live in this world now and as of right now there are 2 more chapters in my drafts.

“Hey roomie, what's up?” Jason's voice is somehow the only thing calming you down as you cower in the stall of the ladies room. This was supposed to be a nice date, the guy was a doctor for fucks sake. But if he isn't the creepiest guy, with the worst vibes in the world, you'd eat your own shoe. 

Shit, how are you going to tell Jason that you’re an idiot. The smart thing to do would’ve been to call Cass or Steph, but you’re not quite sure how they would react. Jason on the other hand, you know he will come. He might be one of the biggest assholes you know, but he’s got a soft spot for you. He did let you move in with him after you got kicked out of your last place and well, you panicked. So now here you are hiding in the bathroom, calling your massive roommate to come rescue you because you're terrified of what's going to happen when you turn this guy down.

“Princess? You there? Are you alright? You're breathing kind of heavy.”

“Jay, I need you to come get me.”

“That bad huh?”

“Yes, please. Were at-”

“I know where you are. Give me ten minutes.”

“Thanks,” you end the call. Ten minutes ok. You can wait ten minutes. You've just got dessert left. That should give Jason plenty of time to show up and you can just say Jay will give you a ride home and that will be that. No worries.

5 minutes to go, you think as Dr fuckin douchebag, stands from the table. “I can't wait for you to see my apartment  I just got the new-” Blah Blah Blah.......Fuck does he ever shut up? you think. Your eyes stay focused on the door. Maybe you could go back and hide in the bathroom until Jason gets here?

Shit, he's staring. Did he ask you a question? Who cares? You stand up peeking down at the message on your phone.

“1 minute away.”

Thank all the fucking gods for Jason Todd. You follow Dr douche outside, onto the busy street. His gross hand on your back makes you recoil into another passer-by. "Sorry, ma'am," 

"It's ok dear," the old lady says, brushing past you with her groceries, "are you ok?" 

“Yeah, thanks.” You say sincerely, hearing the echo of Jason's bike from down the street. Any second now.

“Don't worry about that old bitch. She needs to watch where she’s going,” Dr douche says, “my car is this way,” he starts to direct you. But you stand in place, he looks at you with his brow furrowed, “this is Chanel,” he points at his coat, “I need to get inside before it rains. Lets go.”

You just stare at him. Completely flabbergasted. Where the fuck is Jay? The Doctor reaches for you but you take a step back. “I think I'll walk home,”

“Don't be ridiculous, I can drive us back to my house.”

“Nah I'm good,”

“What! I buy you this expensive dinner and nothing? Typical fucking female.”

“The lady said she's good,” a gruff voice comes from behind you before an arm wraps around your shoulder. You lean back into the touch, letting out a deep breath.

“And who the fuck are you?” Dr D-bag shouts.

“Ready to go Princess?” Jay asks, handing you his spare helmet. You nod in response and Jason turns to lead you back to his bike when he suddenly stops. Turning around so fast you don't know what's happened until you see Dr douche on the ground cradling his face. “Fucking prick. Keep your hands off me,” Jason sneers over at him. “You ok?” he asks, as you step away from Dr D-bag who’s still shouting obscenities at you both.

“Yeah good, can we go home now?”

“Right this way Princess.”

Xxx

“So what happened?” Jason asks when you walk through the door of your shared apartment. He’d be silent the whole way home and you’re not certain if it’s because you wouldn’t be able to hear over his motorcycle or if he was trying to calm himself down. He was gripping the handles of the bike so tight you thought they might snap off.

“You saw him. He was awful. Nearly dragging me back to his house wasn’t even the worst of the things he did. Sure, the not letting me get a word in bugged me, but when he started talking about OUR plans for the future I knew I needed an out.”

“That’s gross. But what I don’t understand is-” he pauses as if thinking over his response, “Why call me?”

“I ah-” you're not really sure what to say or why he's so shocked that you would.

“Noone ever calls me for help. You must be out of your mind,”

“I didn't know who else to call,”

“Dick, Steph, Cassie. Geeze I even thought you’d call the demon spawn before me.”

“I panicked and well, I knew you'd come.”

“Because I have no life?”

“No, because even though you're a jerk sometimes there's a reason you let me move in here when I was desperate.”

“Because you're hot?”

“No, because we're friends. You like me,” you tease,”you think I'm cool.”

“Not true.”

“Liar.”

“I would not.” he dramatically rolls his eyes at you. 

You ignore him, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of wine. With a little jump, you sit yourself on the kitchen counter and take a swig. Jason throws his favourite jacket off onto one of the stools, leaning himself next to you on the counter. He stares up at you, like he’s still very confused about why you called him instead of one of the others. The favourites, but he doesn't want to push you.

“May I?” he asks and you recall the dozens of other times you have sat like this together. So much easier and equal when his face is in line with yours and his massive frame isn’t hulking over you.

“For my rescuer? You can have as much wine as you want,” you smile, handing him the bottle.

“Rescuer, I like that. Though I am wondering why you went out with him in the first place.”

“He seemed fine when we were texting. But-”

“He wasn't.”

“Exactly. And honestly I'm so pent up that if he wasn't such a walking red flag, I probably would have gone home with him.”

“Asshole is lucky I only hit him,” he mutters under his breath, “Should’ve at least stabbed him a little,”

“Enough about him. What are we going to do tonight?”

“I could call Roy and Artemis, we could go to the club? We could prowl the streets to find this guy and I'll hit him again for good measure? Or we could stay in, do a girls night?”

“Dancing does sound good, but I'm not really in the mood for other people right now.” You slide further down the counter, before flopping onto the floor, “mogjt I wntd t gt ld tdy,” you mumble into your arm.

“What was that? You’re mumbling,”

“I said!” You shout, “MOSTLY I JUST WANTED TO GET LAID!” Jay peers down at you, his eyes  going wide and a tiny bit of shock on his face. “But apparently I'm picky and gross. No one I ever want, wants me.”

“Hey, I won't have you saying shit like that,” he bends down in front of you, his hand firm on your chin. You want to look at him but you can feel the shame on your face. “Eyes on me, Princess.”

“I can't,”

“You can. Come on now, just look at me.” You slowly raise your gaze until your eyes meet his. “There you are, now tell me about your problem.”

“My problem is being so horny I feel like I'm gonna burst.” you admit, “So, not so much a problem as an inconvenience.”

“That’s a really big one,” He says leaning back on his heels, “do you want my help?”

“What?!” you say, very taken aback by his offer.

“I said,” he stays where he is giving you room to think. But you know how fast he can move when he wants to, “Do you want my help?”

“I -” Shit, you can feel all your conflicting emotions swirling around in your head. Sure Jay is kind, sweet even. But he can be such an jerk. Is he going to hold this over you? Bring it up all the time? Is it going to change your friendship? You admit you always had a tiny bit of curiosity about what it would be like, how he would taste, what his big strong arms would feel like wrapped around you. But would this change everything? Would it be better or worse?

“Last time I'm going to ask Princess, you want my help or not? We can just sit and watch a movie or something.” he throws his head back towards the couch, “Clocks ticking, better decide fast.” He smirks, pulling away slightly like he’s about to get up and leave.

“Yes,” the word whispers on your lips.

“Going to need you to say that a bit louder, Princess.” He teases, watching you intently.

“Yes, Jason. I would like your help,”

“Good girl,” he takes your face in his two hands, pulling you into him. His lips meet yours and it's like nothing you've ever felt before. The sweet wine on his breath, his calloused thumbs brush along your cheek, his lips firm while not consuming. It's a great fucking kiss.

“Are you sure about this?” You ask when he stops to take a breath.

“Second guessing yourself already Princess? Coz we can stop. This is all it could be, just a kiss between friends.” He bites down on his bottom lip, his eyes raking over you in the tight red dress you'd worn for your date. “Be a shame, but we can stop.”

You take him in, the grey sweats that just cling to his thighs. The black tee that looks like it's been painted on and those beautiful curls that have gone all frizzy from his helmet. 

“Yes”

“Yes you want to stop.” he confirms, backing away.

“Yes, I want to keep going.”

He smiles so wide at that, “then get up,” he wraps an arm around you hugging you close to his body, “I'm not about to fuck you on the floor.” Your legs bind around him, even though you know he isn't about to drop you, “see now isn't that better?”

“Much.”

“Love this dress by the way,” his fingers graze along the underside of your thigh, “Red looks good on you,” he carries you down the hall. Stopping when he reaches your opposite doors, his eyes glancing between the two, “Yours or mine?”

“Mine.”

“Damn, was hoping I'd get to smell you on my sheets tomorrow.”

“Maybe next time,”

“Oh,” he raises his brow, “going to be a next time is there?”

“If you're lucky,” you wink.

“Well, I’m shit outa luck.” he jokes as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed, placing you on his lap. His hand drift’s closer and closer to your pussy. “Maybe I don't need luck,” he kisses into your shoulder, “maybe I can convince you based on pure talent.”

“That's a big maybe,” you squirm rubbing yourself down into his groin,

“Not for me,” he hooks his knees under yours, spreading you open for him, his mouth dangerously close to your ear. His nose brushes along your neck, his fingers matching the movement on your inner thigh. 

His other hand reaches around, massaging your tits. A quick swipe of his fingers over your panties, you hide your face, knowing what he's going to find. “Fuck, you're wet already,” his finger slip up, moving your panties to the side as he dips his fingers into your wetness. 

You let out a small moan, his fingers feel so intense, slowly drifting up and down your pussy lips. You start to squirm aching to have them inside of you. “Jason please,”

“You want my fingers princess?” 

“Yes, shit that feels so good.” His hand rises from your tits circling your neck. His other hand moves your thighs up, your feet landing on his knees and making you fall further back unto him, 

“That's a good girl, spread open for me. I got you,” he says when he feels you tense, “relax into me.”

You let your muscles go loose, your hands wrapping around his huge biceps as he brings his free hand closer to where you need him. His hand slips into the band of your panties, ripping them from you and in seconds his hand is back on you. 

“Shit, can’t believe you’re so wet already. Do I turn you on Princess?” His voice teasing as his middle finger presses onto you. “Slides in so nice,” he presses it deeper, “fuck, I can feel you clenching on on it already,”

“Jason,” you thrust your hips up, “move your hand,” you reach down, pressing your hand ontop of his.

“Oh, like this,” he pulls his finger out, then puts two back in, “Show me how you like it Princess,”

“Yeah,” you moan, “like that,” guiding his fingers, exactly how you like it.

“That’s it, show me how to make you cum,” he moans, his stubble grazing your cheek as he peers over your shoulder to watch you, “You like that? How about this?” he tilts his head, lips sucking on your shoulder, his thumb moving how you're directing it while his fingers fuck into you.

“Yeah, that's amazing,” you move your hips in time with his thrusts noting the hardness growing under your ass. Relishing in the soft nip of his teeth as they graze up your neck. His other hand reaches round, slipping under your dress and pinching at your nipple.

“That's it, take it from me.” He moans in your ear, “take your pleasure from my hand Princess.” Your hips start to buck, your knees shake from trying to get his fingers deeper and deeper inside you. You feel a surge inside and suddenly your legs collapse, your feet tingle and your head falls back right into his shoulder.

“Jay, that was-” you're lost for words as you stare up at him with only half your brain left.

“Fuck, you made such pretty sounds, let's see of I can get some more,” his hands tighten on the bottom of your dress, tugging the material over your head and throwing it onto the floor. The chill of the night hair hits you and sends goosebumps all over your skin.

You're still basking in your post cum haze when he flips you. Landing on your hands and knees and before you can even ask what he's doing his face is on your pussy.

“I just have to, if this is the only time. I want it all,” his tongue thrust's into you, licking all of that sweet cum from inside you. “Fuck you taste so good,” he moans, the vibration of his voice sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “So fuckin hot when you twitch, Princess,” His fingers thrust back into you as he sucks down on your clit.

“FuucK Jay, yeah like that,” you quiver, over-stimulated from your first orgasms. You press your ass into his face and he growls in response, grabbing you by the hips to force you even closer. 

“That's it Princess, fuck yourself into my face. Give me all-” he stops, staring up at you in awe, “are you going to cum again?”

“Yes, so close.”

“Fuck, you must've needed this. So pent up, just needed a real man go take care of you,” his fingers work faster his whole arm wrapping under your hips to keep you upright. “So fucking delicious,”

“Yes Jay, yes I need to-”

“Cum then. Cum on my face,” his words muddled by how well he is eating you right now

“Jason fuuuucckkk,” you scream as you let go, your body shaking, held up only by the arm underneath you.

“Such a good girl,” he says, slowly easing off you, “take a rest,” his weight leaves you and you feel the bed rise as he stands.

“Where are you?” You turn your head with maximum effort.

“Can't fuck you with my pants on Princess,” he smirks at you, “do you still want me to fuck you? Or are you blazed out?”

“Yes, please,” you smile sweetly at him, even though your face is still smooshed into the mattress.

“Such manners for such a bad girl,” he says, working to get his clothes off a bit faster, “Can you tell me what you want?”

“Want you to fill my achy pussy, so fuckin empty Jay, please.” you pout your bottom lip at him.

He smiles so bright that it almost lights up the room, ”Since you asked so nicely,” he grabs your hips lifting and spreads your ass cheeks, “do you want it right now or?” His cockhead swipes through your soaked pussy.

“Yes, now. Please fuck me,” you try to back into him but he his massive hands hold you in place

“I wanted this for so long, can you let me enjoy this,” teasingly slowly he swipes his cock through you, slapping his head onto your pussy. You jolt up, so fucking sensitive, you legs start to twitch and your back arches your ass into him.

He lets out a pleased giggle to himself. He presses just the tip into you, slowly opening you up and pressing himself in deeper and deeper. His huge cock stretches you out wonderfully. You feel every vein, every inch of him, until he's fully inside of you. “Holy fuck, you feel so good,” he moans, leaning his body over yours and kissing into your neck. Goosebumps cover your skin and you can feel your pleasure starting to build again.

You try to move again, but his strong hands hold you in place, “Inpatient aren't we Princess. No need for squirming, I got you.” Drawing out slowly, he slams back into you. 

“Jason, holy fuck,” you pant, biting down on the blanket below you.

“Shit, you're pussy, holy fuck is right,” he keeps his movement consistent, the slow draw out before he thrust hard back into you. “You're so fucking slippery princess, it's so fucking good.”

His pace speeds up, your breath becoming raged and hoarse as he fucks into you. “Holy shit, I can’t believe we waited so long for this,” His cock worshiping you from the inside while his mouth rambles "so good, too good. Taking me so well, Fuck I want to live here,”

Your about to come again when he stops, his hand latching into your hair and pulling your back to his chest. The zing of pain almost, fucking almost sending you over the edge. But he’s still, holding himself inside you.

“From now on Princess,” his voice is almost a growl in your ear as you clench around him at the mention of your pet name, he shivers in response. Tugging tighter on your hair, “You come to me ok. No more fucking assholes that can't treat you right. No more late night rescues, just this.”

“Jay,” you pant, “is this-”

“I want you to be safe and if this keeps you safe, then we'll do it every fucking day,”

“I want that,” 

“Good girl, now roll over. I wanna see those pretty eyes when I make you cum on my cock.”

“Jason, fuck.” You squeal when he takes your ankles over his shoulders, his hands coming down to rest on either side of your head. 

He leans down pressing his forehead into yours, “kiss me Princess,” you reach up wrapping your arms around his neck and plant your lips on him. It's hungry and sloppy and it sends shivers down your legs. You only stop to let out a low moan when he pushes back in.

“You're so deep,” 

“I know, shit. I want to be all the way back in.” He pushes harder, “do you feel how well I'm filling you?” He grinds his pelvis into yours, “how well you're taking me? Fucking hell, hold on to me,” He tightens your grip around his neck, He moves faster, fucking into you like some wild animal let loose, his pace all over the place as he looses himself in you. “Princess, you're-” he grips your throat tighter holding you in place, “that should stop ya slipping away from me”.

“Jason, tighter,” you move your hand over his, pressing his fingers in harder. 

“Like that?” He confirms and when you nod he takes your hand back, “hold onto me. I need to cum, I need it so fuckin bad.” His hand moves back to your throat, "But I don't want to stop fucking you," his hips pressing yours higher and higher until your ass is fully off the bed, his other arm holding your thighs to his chest. 

“Jay, fuckin- oh my shit,” you pant as he cock reaches parts of you, you didn't even know existed. “I'm gunna cum Jay,”

“Me too Princess, want me to count us down?”

“Yes, yes whatever.”

“5, shit you're so fucking sexy like this,” he moves your head with his thumb  pointing your face right at him, “4, were definitely doing this again,” you feel your legs begin to shake and your world start to spin as you try to hold it at bay. “3, shit, shit, it's so good, too fuckin perfect,” his grip tightens on your throat, and you close your eyes trying to focus, “2, open your eyes Princess, look at me when I make you cum,” your eyes zap open and your met with that cocky smile, you feel your insides start to flutter, to squirm and buzz and all that good shit, “1.” You start to convulse like you've been possessed, the only thing holding you in place is Jason's massive body while he cries your name and buries himself in you.

“I didn't choke you too hard did I?” He asks rolling off you and gently putting your legs on the bed.

“I liked it,” you joke, turning on your side and slipping your elbow under your head. “How are you? Do you need some water?”

“Yeah, that'd be great,” he takes heaving breaths, not even sitting up to drink from your water bottle. “That was something else.”

“You got that right.”

“So have I got the skills or what?”

“Are you really fishing for compliments right now?” 

He shrugs at you, throwing the water on the ground. 

"Yes, oh great Jason Todd, you got the skills."

“Knew it,” he winks, “I meant what I said, you come to me, you cum on me, whenever you want.”

“Noted,”

“Good night Princess,” he says, rolling over and tucking you into his chest.

“Hey! I didn't say you could sleep here,” you protest jokingly trying to push him away.

“Good luck with your whole pushing me away thing,” he yawns, his arms tightening around you as he presses a little kiss into your forehead and snuggling down into your hair.

“Asshole,” you mumble as you press yourself in closer, throwing a leg over his.

“Yeah, this asshole rescued your whole night Princess, So I think you'll let it slide this time.”

Part 2. OH MY GOD, THEY WERE ROOMMATES

#jason todd fanfic #reader x jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood fanfic #reader x red hood #red hood #x reader

[separatist-apologist]

Meanwhile, Nesta has problems:

Cassian advanced, unconcerned with the gun in her hand. She supposed he was used to seeing them, used to having them pointed directly at him. He was The Lord of Bloodshed, after all. That didn’t stop Nesta, who’d been going to the gun range long before feds ever dumped her in this swampy nowhere town. 

Kill him and be done with it.

“Then why were you on your knees last night, Nes?” Cassian whispered, those hazel eyes glittering with amusement. “You had my cock in your mouth. I didn’t even have to ask.” “What happens in the bedroom and what happens out here are two separate things, Cass,” was all Nesta could think to say in response. She really was sorry, in that regard. She knew he didn’t see it that way. 

Cassian shook his head, the loose ends of his wavy, dark hair brushing those muscular shoulders. “I’ll find you.” “You’ll be dead,” she replied, willing the words to be true.

“You can’t kill me and we both know it,” Cassian told her. She hated that he was right, just like she knew that if she didn’t, he would hunt her down. This was personal, now—beyond the lies she’d told on her sister's behalf.

It didn’t matter. Rhysand had found them and Nesta needed to get to Elain before something horrible happened. Then they’d find Feyre and pray Rhysand hadn’t gotten to her first.

“I’m sorry,” Nesta whispered before she pulled the trigger. Cassian howled, crumpling to the ground. He wasn’t dead—just wounded. She’d shot him in the leg. 

Nesta turned, knowing she only had minutes to put distance between them before Cassian rallied, caught her, and did god knows what to her. He looked enraged as she made her way toward the front door.

“This isn’t over between us, Nesta! I’ll have you back by the end of the week!” 

She grabbed the keys to his jeep and made her way outside, fingers shaking. Nesta tossed the gun to the passenger seat before pulling her phone from her pocket. She had the car out of the gravel drive before she pulled out her phone, texting people she knew better than to drag into this mess.

Gwyn and Emerie were waiting for her when she pulled up to Emerie’s place.

“Start from the beginning,” Emerie ordered the moment Nesta swung from the blue vehicle while Gwyn held a shotgun in both hands, eyes pinned on Nesta. It was an odd moment, telling her friends—who were like sisters in a different sort of way—everything that had transpired half a decade before.

Gwyn and Emerie wouldn’t turn on her, though. Nesta didn’t know how she knew that, only that it was true. 

And in the end, Nesta was right.

#cassian is just as insane #i think elucien is my favorite because its just one mans spiral into felony offenses

[rallentando1011]

Somnambulant Soulmates (rise Donnie x gn reader)

rise Donnie x gn reader

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Word Count: 4873

Content: movie night, fight scene, brief text messages (it was a doozy to write but still really fun!)

Chapter Artwork: Here

Waking up before noon was a chore. 

Not necessarily because you stayed up late, also not because you forgot to set an alarm, but the combination of the two made last night’s sleep enticingly prisonlike. 

You only awoke when your bedroom seemed suspiciously bright, your rest suspiciously long. Having work at noon and not wanting to miss it, you shot up in bed, frantically padding for your phone in its place beside you.

Checking the time revealed that it was a comfortable while away from when you had to be at work, not even eleven yet.

Checking your telephone also revealed numerous notifications filling up the screen.

Not that it was odd for you to wake up to a bunch of text messages, but yeah, it was.

When you opened your phone, you saw that the group chat that had been made at April’s birthday party was the culprit.

Shoot. You’d almost forgotten that it even existed. Outside of the pictures from April’s party and a few memes, not much had been sent.

That was, until last night, apparently.

You scrolled to the top of the new messages, getting to work on reading through the slew of them awaiting you.

Today 1:58 AM

Leo: so I recognize that we’re all busy people/yōkai/mutants/unspecified, but we’ve got some free time tonight if you guys would be game for a movie night?

Mikey: Yeah baby! I’m SO down!

Leo: …

Leo: we’re the ones inviting people over so this was more for everyone else, you know?

Mikey: oh. right. knew that.

Today 3:17 AM

April: I’m game! After like seven because your girl has work :))

Donnie: Aren’t you on your fifth job this week?

April: Isn’t your forehead on its fifth inch?

Raph: f

Leo: f

Mikey: f

Today 4:23 AM

Casey: HECK YEAH, I’LL BRING SNAKCS.

Casey: *SNAKCN.

Sunita: You can do it Cass

Casey: **SNACKS!!!

Sunita: It’s a yes from me btw

Casey: Your sarcasm is not appreciated, goopy one.

Casey: Junior is with me right now. I hope you find it suitable that I have invited him along.

Leo: wait, Jr’s not in here? lemme add him rq

Leo added an Unknown number

Maybe Junior: A movie night sounds great! I’m assuming we already have plans to get pizza? If not, I’ll gladly pick some up.

Mikey: You /know/ we’ve got pizza covered, baby! All you need to do is show up

Maybe Junior: Sounds great!

As you caught up on the conversation, you thought about your schedule for the day. Sure, you had work, but only until six, and you didn’t have anything the next day. Some social interaction sounded nice, even if all of the people you were hanging out with all seemed to stay up until ungodly hours.

Today 10:48 AM

You: gosh dang are all of you nocturnal?

You: also yes, I’m absolutely down for a movie night! where at?

April: Remember that one patisserie we ate at in SoHo? Just meet me outside of there and I’ll lead you the rest of the way ;)

You: bet

With that, you rolled yourself off your mattress, slapped on some jeans, a shirt, beanie, fanny pack, boots, snagged some breakfast for the road, and started off on your way to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day at work proved drudgerous.

Thankfully, nothing terrible happened, and you didn’t have many bad interactions with customers, but it was so painfully dull. It had been insipid, realistically, since April had left, but it provided a steady pay and got you by. Such is the life of a retail worker.

The boredom you experienced at work was quickly warped into excitement as your shift ended and your walk to meet with your best pal began.

After a brisk journey, you landed in front of the patisserie that you and April had visited only a few weeks prior. You scanned the area, grinning as your eyes landed on her leaning against the brick wall by the building’s entrance. No sooner than you noticed her, she did the same with you.

“Hey!” April waved you over.

“Hey!” you responded as you walked over to her, taking in the familiar area around you. Coffee shops, hot pot stops, standard commercial buildings and advertisements galore, but not many residences.

“Hey April, where do these pals of yours live anyways?” you asked, still surveilling the nearby edifices.

“Oh. About that…” she started, and you looked at her. 

She seemed nervous, almost.

“It’s fine if they live a while away. I could use the exercise.” 

She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth anxiously. So it wasn’t that.

“What is it?” you asked, the smile you had slowly draining from your face.

“It’s nothing bad, just- let me show you.”

April slipped around the corner and into a dim, adjacent alley while you trailed her like a confused sheep. When she stopped abruptly and looked at the ground, you came up beside her and followed her gaze.

You started rethinking everything that had brought you to this point as you both stared down a slightly ajar manhole.

“The sewers.”

“The sewers,” she confirmed grimly.

“No, you’ve got to be kidding right now. Wherever the hidden cameras-slash-film crew are, they can come out now…”  You paused. You didn’t truly expect anyone or anything to happen, but it sure would’ve made you feel better if it did. However, after a moment filled with the distant sounds of cars and people, you met her eyes again. “We’re really going in there?”

“Yep.”

“Does it not smell like, I don’t know, sewage?”

April snorted. “Oh, no. There are measures put in place to spruce the lair up. We’re talking industrial-grade air fresheners. I helped Donnie put ‘em up years ago.”

“... So it did smell?”

“Man, just get in the sewers!”

With that impetus, you cautiously helped her kick the cover askew, then open, and tentatively placed yourself on the first rung of a ladder built in a wall. Before you continued your descent, you narrowed your eyes at your companion.

“If this is some kind of trick, I swear-”

This time April didn’t indulge you with words. One sight of her deadpan sent you carefully yet swiftly working your way down into the sewers.

Despite being underneath the ground, it was still bright enough to see in front of you, see the rungs methodically moving up as you went down. You attributed your ability to see to the light creeping in through the entrance above, so when April followed you down and worked the cover back in place, you were immediately plunged into darkness.

“Woah, it’s, uh, a bit dark down here,” you called, definitely not clinging desperately to the ladder.

“Oh, right! You’re not really used to this,” April laughed lightly.

“You could say that.”

“Here.” After a moment, a bright light shone from above you. April’s flashlight. In the now illuminated cement structure, you looked up to see her flash you a smile. You mustered up an uneasy one back at her and crept the rest of the way down.

You almost collapsed in relief at being back on solid, albeit sewer-water-dampened, ground. At least it didn’t smell like sewage, just like she had said.

April landed beside you swiftly, giving you a nudge before bounding down a tunnel. “Come on. It’s this way!”

You sighed before coming up beside her.

“Once again, I feel I just need to ask for legal purposes, this isn’t an elaborate hoax or scheme for my demise, right?”

“I promise! Look, just relax.This’ll be fun!”

“Alright.”

You two meandered through the tunnels in a comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the echoes of your steps and the constant drips of faraway water. With how many chambers you had moved through, you contemplated confirming that she knew the way, but the confidence with which she walked convinced you well enough.

Eventually, a light came into view at the end of the passageway, and you could faintly discern the sound of indistinguishable chatter.

“Right here,” April exulted, jogging up to the exit and stepping out into the light. 

You tailed her. As you drank in the scene around you, it was drastically contrary to what you would expect of a sewer dwelling.

The room had the spaciousness and height of a gothic church, though the decor was certainly less ornate. In lieu of flying buttresses or stained glass, the architecture in the lair consisted of graffitied walls, string lights and drainage pipes, which presumably led to more rooms. For an underground home, it was very bright and comely. The most notable feature of the room, however, was the huge skate ramp in the center of the room, the deck almost reaching the ceiling.

“See? Not a slaughterhouse.” April grinned.

You playfully raised a brow. “The night’s still young.”

You took to surveying the ground floor for anyone else.

Off to the side of the grand atrium stood Raph, Casey, and some kid who you’d never seen before. You could only presume him to be that ‘Junior’ character from the group chat.

Well, maybe you weren’t giving him enough credit. He wasn’t a kid, per say, as his built physique and the stubble on his chin made evident, but his bright eyes and how exuberantly he spoke to Casey accentuated his youthful appearance.

“Hey y’all!” April called as you walked over to the three.

Raph and Casey both greeted you with enthusiastic grins, Casey additionally giving you a light slug on the arm.

The new one, however, had a much more interesting reaction. His eyes widened upon seeing you, but maybe he just wasn’t expecting to see a new person. Reasonable, you supposed.

You decided to put your best foot forward, offering a hand shake and your name.

After a moment of just staring at you blankly, he blinked himself back into the present and shook your hand firmly.

“Casey Jones. Nice to see- or, meet, you,” he smiled widely.

“So you’re Casey?” you looked Cassandra mischievously. “And you’re Casey? Are you two related or is that just a coincidence?”

All ongoing conversation stopped for all of them to exchange a look.

April cleared her throat. “Well, about that-”

They proceeded to tell you the craziest story you’d heard in your life. They detailed how when, a couple years back, the Krang invaded and ransacked the city, the kid before you had been portaled from the future by older versions of your current turtle friends. The icing on top of the cake? Casey, the new one, is Cassandra’s son.

“What in the back to the future- you’re from the future?! Dude, you are from the future. That’s the most- I don’t want to say ridiculous but- it’s the wildest thing I’ve ever heard. Did you know me? Ooh, am I cool? I hope I’m cool. Also, no pressure to answer anything, just know that this is literally the most excited I’ve been all day.”

“Yeah, I knew you,” he nodded exuberantly with a bittersweet gleam in his eye. “The coolest commander I ever knew, aside from Commander O’Neil.”

“Commander?! Man, that’s wicked! Sorry if bringing this stuff up is weird or sad.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured. “It is odd seeing you, but I’ve gotten used to it. And it’s sort of nice.”

You smiled warmly at him just as the others’ conversation caught your attention. Casey mentioned something about everyone already being in the projector room, then April brought something up about getting this movie night on the road. You couldn’t agree more.

“So, should we head over there?” you proposed.

“We’ll grab the snacks and meet up with you!” Raph flashed you a toothy grin before smirking at Casey. Original Casey, not Jr. “Race you to the kitchen!”

“You’re going down, reptile!”

The two bounded off. You, April, and other Casey stood stupefied.

“Us too, future boy!” April challenged before breaking into a sprint after Raph and Casey. Casey Jr. shook his head lightheartedly before racing after them.

Just as you thought you’d be left standing like a deer in headlights until they returned, two giggling figures emerged from the sewer tunnel you’d come through, one blue, one orange.

“Hey Mikey, Leo!” you waved

“What’s up?” Leo smiled.

“Not much- woah!” you exclaimed. Mikey had already ran up to you and was currently squeezing your ribs in a tight hug.

“Hi,” he said, grinning widely.

“Hello.” You patted his back once, twice, awkwardly. “I think everyone’s either grabbing snacks or already went to the projector room, wherever that is.”

“We’ll show you the way!” Mikey was practically bouncing. “We’re gonna watch that new JJ movie! It’s a sequel to Pluto Vacation Part 77, but a prequel to Part 4,” Mikey explained exuberantly as he all but dragged you toward the projector room.

“Arguably the worst JJ movie, but let’s not delve into that right now,” Leo muttered.

“JJ?” you slanted your head.

“Jupiter Jim!” Mikey clarified. He let out an audible gasp and stopped walking when he saw you were still confused. “You don’t know Jupiter Jim! Omigosh! Wha- How? I thought I knew you!” The box turtle shook your shoulders.

“Easy, Miguel,” Leo moved Mikey’s hands off of your arms. “It’s not their fault they’re uneducated.”

Your stupefied expression soured. “I was about to thank you for coming to my defense, but I think you just made it worse.”

“Shhh, it’s alright. Don’t you fret, we’ll get you fixed up in about 800 films, reboots, and comics. Onward!” The two brothers started back up on their way to the movie.

“What? How many?” you asked, exasperated. You did not have the time nor attention span for that.

Leo and Mikey continued walking with you tagging along. The red eared slider just shrugged. “Chill, we’re not getting through all of them tonight. We’ll marathon as many as we can, though. I think the one we’re starting on works well enough chronologically.”

“I’ll take your word on it.”

You entered the projector room. The only person who was currently there was Sunita, though you almost didn’t recognize her in her yōkai form at first. You’d only seen it one other time at April’s, and you had lost your mind when she turned into a sludgy green puddle of googlyschmootz. You’d thought that she’d spontaneously combusted, but nope. That was just her insanely cool true form.

She was seated on the ground, eagerly staring at the projection of the menu screen of the Jupiter Jim movie on the wall. Behind her sat an orange, worn out sofa, and to the right of it was a gray bean bag chair.

“Sunita!” Mikey exclaimed, ran up to her, and took a seat beside her while Leo covered himself with a blanket on the couch and scrolled on his phone. “How long have you been watching the menu screen?”

“An hour,” she said nonchalantly, still not daring to take her eye off of it. “The score is just so good! I physically cannot look away.”

You squinted. “But you don’t need to look to hear the- nevermind.” You settled down in front of the bean bag, using the chair as support for your back.

Once you were seated, the sound of footsteps fastly approaching signaled the arrival of more people. 

Casey ran in first, bags of popcorn tucked under her arms, followed by April, with chips, Casey Jr., soda that certainly wouldn’t explode once it was opened, and finally Raph, arms full of candy. All of them were out of breath; you inferred they raced here like they had earlier. Casey boasting about her superior skills proved your hypothesis.

Raph muttered something about having the most to carry as he sulkily plopped down on the couch. Casey landed between him and Leo, still smiling victoriously. 

Casey Jr. set down the ticking time bomb that was the carbonated beverages he had sprinted through the lair with on the ground beside him as he took a seat by Mikey.

April clicked a couple of finger guns your way and sat beside you. She also decided to use the bean bag chair to rest against.

You were about to propose starting the movie before you realized someone was missing.

“Wait, where’s Donnie?” you whispered to April.

“Probably in his lab. Push comes to shove, we send Mikey to sucker him out of his room.”

“Is the lab here?”

“Yep. Just on the other side of the lair.”

“I might be reconsidering my whole stance on the whole ‘living in the sewers’ thing.”

April laughed lightly.

Suddenly, you felt the bean bag you two were resting against gain another commuter, the action bouncing you both.

You tipped your head back, meeting eyes with a nonchalant Donatello resting behind you.

“Personally, I recommend it. Technically not tax evasion if the government can’t find you,” he shrugged.

“It also helps that they don’t know you exist,” April jabbed lightheartedly.

“For legal reasons, I’m gonna pretend I heard none of that,” you averted your gaze jokingly, slowly tipping your head back down.

You heard your companions snicker, then joined them in their laughter. 

Soon, once Raph saw that everyone was present, he hit the buttons on the projector until the movie started playing.

While the movie opened up on, you guessed it, Pluto, snacks and drinks began to proliferate throughout the room and even eventually made their way to you three on the bean bag.

The movie was fairly obviously made on a low budget, as the shoddy camera direction and presence of a boom microphone for five minutes showed, but it was self aware about its campiness. Sure, the lore and character relationships were an absolute cluster, but it was still entertaining. Plus, the prosthetics used for the aliens looked phenomenal, and some scenes were genuinely eerie.

All in all, it was an enjoyable watch, made even more so by April’s occasional humorous comment and Donnie researching behind the scenes facts when something seemed intriguing to him.

As the credits rolled, you took a big stretch.

“That was a bit creepier than I thought a Jupiter Jim movie would be. Consider my timbers, shivered,” you admitted.

“I thought we reserved ‘shivering timbers’ for nautical excursions, same as ‘ahoy,’” Donnie commented. Man, he could really work sarcasm into any conversation. It was impressive, really.

“Hey, you can just drop it now, Don-Tron… That ship’s sailed.” Leo smirked.

“Wow. Boat puns. Stooping low today.” Donnie crossed his arms.

“Please, if we were stooping low, we’d bring up your internet history,” Mikey jumped in on the shenanigans. “But I’d much rudder keep this civil.”

“...” 

“Continuing on,” Raph changed the subject. “I guess Pluto Vacation IV makes the most logical sense?”

Donnie and April cheered. Mikey and Leo groaned. 

“Hey!” April exclaimed. “We agreed not to trash on each other’s favorites.” She then gestured to you. “Plus, they’ve never seen it, so we’re doing this. Got it?”

“Fine,” Leo and Mikey spoke unison, the former rolling his eyes as Raph placed in the DVD and started the film.

The film started, once again, with a killer score, just as Sunita had said. Maybe she had a point about not being able to peel your vision from the screen-

Suddenly, a horrendous beeping noise shrieked from right behind your head, causing you to snap your head around immediately. 

“What is that horrible- oh wait that’s me.” Donnie tapped on the tech gauntlet on his forearm and made the alarm cease. At the same time, someone paused the movie.

“What was that?” you exclaimed, cautiously uncovering your ears.

“Hmm,” the turtle hummed. “Seems like we’ve got a 2100-47 in progress.”

Somewhere in the distance, you could hear crickets chirp.

“Oh, right, no one reads the manual. Art heist, going on right now, Hudson Street.” 

You looked around the room, wondering what the heck any of that meant, but everyone else seemed determined, ready, like superheroes.

“Wait wait wait, what just happened? What was that look?” Silence met you. “Wait, you guys are trying to fight crime? Right now? Seriously?”

You looked to April, who only smirked in response.

“Dang you guys are not slash j right now,” you remarked, gaining a small laugh from the soft shell behind you. “Do I have to stay here or..?”

“I don’t think so,” April spoke up.

“There are plenty of us. What could happen?” Leo pitched in.

“Besides, in the future, you were always able to hold your own,” Casey Jr. beamed. Okay, if you had him backing you up, the guy who knew a future version of you, you couldn’t let him down.

“Alright. I’m ready. At the very least, I’ll be moral support,” you shrugged.

“That’s the spirit!” Casey shouted. “Now let’s go!”

Just like that, your peaceful movie night turned into all of you rushing through the main room of the lair, those with weapons and masks grabbing their respective tools, and climbing up to the surface.

Immediately, Raph, Casey, and Sunita began scaling the rooftops in the direction of Hudson. Leo used his blades to form an electric blue portal, leaving a tingling sensation in the air after he leapt through. Mikey took out a chained instrument and, after latching it to lampposts, swung through the night. The mechanical shell on Donnie’s back converted into a jet pack-adjacent piece of technology with a seat, allowing for him and April to whirl off in the direction of the fighting.

You stood still. You had nary a clue what to do or where to go or- just about anything, really.

You looked over at the only person still beside you and wondered how Casey Jr. planned to get over there.

He looked back at you brightly and stepped beside you.

“Hold on!” Before you could question why, the youth revealed a grappling hook-esque contraption on his wrist, tucked the other arm around you, aimed at a lamppost, and sent you two soaring through the air.

You instinctively clung to the poor lad, who was somehow managing his own and your weight. The wind lashed at your face harshly as you dipped and soared, swinging off of every suitable lamppost or rooftop you passed.

As soon as you started to feel ill, you two landed on solid ground in an alleyway. However, the dread from that was quickly replaced by what you saw there.

Numerous goons were there, some loading crates of presumably stolen items into a large vehicle. The others were already engaged in fighting off your friends.

Their faces seemed unnatural, borderline demonic, and the fact that all of the creatures  had the same exact face did not make it any less uncanny.

The Caseys and April were steadily beating them down with hockey sticks and a baseball bat respectively. Raph and Sunita had seemed to head straight for the truck to salvage the stolen art. Donnie, Leo, and Mikey appeared to be pure agents of chaos, distracting and fighting goons with any means necessary.

“Standard goons. We’ve so got this.” Leo confidently utilized his blades, trapping one of the enemy in particular in a loop of falling infinitely to dizzy them. You weren’t so sure. There were a lot of them, and you were almost getting taken out by your own side.

“Heads up!”

You barely had time to duck out of the way of Mikey’s weapon, a ball attached to chains that were literally on fire, as it whipped just over your head.

“Heads down would be more appropriate!” you called.

You stumbled forward in an attempt to catch your balance. You were barely able to prevent yourself from falling, but you managed to stay upright. No sooner than you steadied yourself, a low hum emitted from the space right in front of you. The air vibrated tensely; it reminded you of how Leo’s portal felt earlier, but that turtle in particular was already busy behind you.

Just as everything clicked in your brain, another portal tore through the air in front of you. This one was colossal, filling up the entire alleyway in its amber glow.

Your breath quickened as you cumbersomely took one step back, then another. Your wide eyes remained transfixed on the gateway in front of you.

Out of the otherworldly portal emerged a ginormous spider, about as tall as the portal itself, four legs acting as legs, the others similar to arms. Well, as similar as spindly spider limbs can be to arms. The arachnid’s six glowing red eyes bore deeply into yours, her jagged teeth curled delightfully into a wicked grin.

Perspiration permeated every pore of your being. Every limb went stiff, each muscle rendered taut. You probably would have screamed if not for fear of bile rising up your throat instead.

“Big Mama…”

“Oh, what a delectable surprise!” Big Mama delighted, her uppity, whimsical tone in such stark contrast with her imposing demeanor. “So many turtle-y boos, and- oh, this is pos-a-bubbly splendiferous!”

Her eyes narrowed in on you, but she didn’t take any action. She simply surveyed you, then the damage her lackeys had taken so far, then what all had been recovered, before they fell back on you.

“Come now, my minions!” The spider ordered coolly, almost excitedly. “We have far more pertinent prerogatives.”

Obediently, immediately, the identical servants ceased their fighting with everyone and filed through the portal behind Big Mama.

With one last nefarious smirk, she disappeared just as she had emerged: in a flash of auburn light.

All of you stood tensely. No one so much as breathed as if an action as insignificant as that would somehow summon the gargantuan spider and her lackeys again.

“So…” Leo’s lighthearted timbre cut through the atmosphere, “who’s up for Part 79?”

“Leo, not the time!” Raph corrected, and the two started to squabble.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night,” you said shakily.

“You okay?” April placed a hand on your shoulder

“Yeah. I’m all good! Just had enough excitement,” you shrugged coolly out of her touch, hoping that you were concealing your panic better than you thought you were. “I’m right around the corner so I can just walk over-”

“I could walk with you.”

You paused, looked at who had said that. Donnie. You tilted your head at him, fairly certain that everyone else was just as perplexed.

He retracted about as much as he could into his shell at the attention. “For safety, of course. Because, you know, that was a really oddly timed exit and they could be waiting nearby and-”

“I get it, I get it,” you reassured, sparing him from digging a deeper grave. “I’ll gladly take the escort.” You turned to address the rest of the bunch. “Thank you very much for having me over, guys, it’s been real. A-A little too real, maybe, but fun either way. Goodnight, gang!”

You waved goodbyes and exited the alleyway, a purple-clad turtle in tow. You walked silently, still hardly processing what you had just witnessed. His presence was still pleasant, even if no words were exchanged.

Only when you were about a block away from your home did you speak. “So, do you guys experience stuff like that all the time or is the physical embodiment of arachnophobia a special occurrence?”

“Yeah, that was pretty much the usual, but Big Mama’s just about the worst of them. It used to be Baron Draxum, the warrior-alchemist-sheep man who made us, but he’s been rehabilitated.”

“Pardon? Your dad’s a sheep man?”

“No, my dad’s actually a rat. Draxum’s just my creator, father at best.”

“Oh, okay.” You nodded along as if you grasped any of that. But if he was a turtle, then how would a rat or a sheep- oh, you were reading into it too much. It didn’t matter though, as you had already arrived in front of your complex. You walked up to the porch and turned toward him.

“Thanks for walking me back. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it.”

You two paused. Were you supposed to walk away? Have more conversation?

After a moment of just looking at him, you gave him a small salute. “I’ll see you around, ‘Tello-”

“Wait!” he said before speaking more quietly. “I made a prototype of the technology I told you about at the library, if you want to come over and check it out sometime?”

“Oh, would I?” you beamed. “That sounds wonderful. I’m free tomorrow morning, if that works for you?”

“Y-Yeah, tomorrow’s great.” He smiled brightly back. “Great!”

“Does eleven sound good?”

“Eleven works.”

“Cool.”

“Cool.” He clicked his tongue, rocked back and forth on his heels.

“I’ll see you then.” You did finger guns, internally cursing yourself for it.

“I bid you adieu.”

“Right back at you. Goodnight!”

“Goodnight.” He finally made his way off the porch before shooting off into the sky with his battle shell, and you could finally head up to your place.

That was quite possibly the most awkward farewell you’d ever had. Very sweet, yes, but awkward nonetheless.

At the very least, you’d made it home in one piece. You couldn’t wait to see him- you meant, see his invention tomorrow.

Taglist~

@rottmntsimp

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #save rottmnt #save rise of the tmnt #unpause rottmnt #rise season 3 #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #unpause rise of the tmnt #rise of the turtles #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rise donatello #rottmnt x reader #rise donatello x reader #donatello x reader #soulmates #part 3 #my writing #rottmnt writing #writeblr

[ynbabe]

Batfam x male reader

Jason: How did you know there would be an extra uniform in the bag?

Tim: Everyone knows flight attendants are required to carry extra uniforms, in case they get called to work unexpectedly.

Dick: Or if something happens to the one they're already wearing.

Tim: Everyone does not know that. How did you both know that?

Roy (yes he’s a bat now, no idgaf abt queen): Worked airport security.

Jason and Y/n: *Simultaneously* Slept with a flight attendant.

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Jason: *sighs* I have no friends...

Y/n:

Y/n: *coughs* Bitch, what am I? A roach?!

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Tim: I can’t go, Dick’s mad at me 

Y/n: Why?

Tim: Well there was too many people watching on the Netflix account so I texted him and told him to check the news ‘cause Batman was dead and when he saw I was lying he couldn’t get back onto the Netflix because I had taken his spot

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Jason: [on the phone] Hey do you remember when I said that me and Y/n were gonna have a calm night out?

Steph: Yes?

Jason: How much bail money do you have?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Jason: [takes off his shirt and jumps into a fighting stance] Fight me you bitch

Y/n: [picks up Harley’s shirt and puts it on] What’s your next move?

Jason: Wait what-? Gimme my shirt back

Y/n: No you’ve made your decision 

Jason: L/n I’m cold

Y/n: Should’ve worn a shirt then

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Dick: Damian loves the outdoors

Dick: That time we went camping he was like Mowgli running around those woods

Dick: I swear Y/n, he was that happy that I honestly thought about just leaving him there

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Are you all caught up on homework?

Tim: I have a project due on Tuesday and I’m not saying I haven’t started but if you ask to see what I’ve done so far there wouldn’t be anything 

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Pete, why did you put syrup on the shopping list?

Steph: Cause I like syrup

Y/n: Yes but now it’s all sticky

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n, serious: Don't go falling in love with me

Jason, also serious: Yeah, that's not a problem

*A few days later*

Jason: *yelling as he runs to Dick's room* DICK, I HAVE A PROBLEM

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Dick: Do NOT drink the night before the awards ceremony 

Jason: Yeah yeah, be on time, don’t mess things up

Dick: NO. Alfred’s booked a bagpipe choir. You do NOT want to be hungover for a bagpipe choir

Y/n: Oh fuck

Dick: We’ll go out AFTER the ceremony

Dick: When the bagpipe choir has left the premises 

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Tim got so drunk last night he puked all over my living room

Tim: It was the laughing! You made me laugh and I threw up!

Jason: Yeah it wasn’t the nine vodka sodas, it was the laughing

Y/n: “Oh my god! I drank so much laughter before this!”

Tim: 

Jason: You owe us a new rug

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: [climbing down the side of the building]

Tim: Y/n!

Tim: Y/n come back! You’re gonna miss your cocoa!

Y/n: [in the distance] I know!

Tim: Well can I have it then?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Jason, after getting Tim duty: Horror movies don’t scare Tim

Dick: But Chuckie is so creepy though

Tim, spending wayyy to much time on Y/n with this: If I had to fight Chuckie I’d stand in an open field and kick him like a soccer ball every time he came towards me

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: We need to find Dami, do you have a picture of him?

Tim: No but I can draw him from memory 

Tim: How tall is he? Like 2 feet?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Have fun at your party

Tim: Thanks

Y/n: You know what they say: “Liquor before beer, never fear. Don’t do heroin”

 Tim: It’s a parent-controlled sociale for rich kids in Gotham I’ll be back before 9

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Fuck sake Bruce you said I had to babysit one kid

[Dick, Jason, Steph, Cass, Tim, Duke and Damian waving]

Bruce: They don’t exactly come separately... and you only need to look after Damian

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: [waking up from a near death injury] You were scared

Jason: Nah, I was waiting to inherit your millions

Y/n: Let me know where you find them, huh?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Bruce: Can’t you leave Damian alone?

Tim: I got all the Justice league, young justice, teen titans, titans, everyone at WE and a bunch of interns to sign this notebook I had and then I wrote “Sign here if you think Damian is stupid” on the cover

Tim: He almost cried 

Tim: It was great

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Dick: Kid, could I have a moment in private with Y/n?

Tim: Sure, I’ll just plug my ears and sing an old sea shanty

Dick: Wait-

Tim: There once was a ship that went to sea-

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Tim, crushing on Y/n: Can I just say that I’d love to listen to you talk about Hell all afternoon Y/n

Jason, dating y/n and having met in hell: And can I just say that if I had my guns right now I’d shoot myself

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n: Uhhh

Damian: *scoffs*

Y/n: You want a beer?

Dick: He's ten!

Y/n: I don't know, what am I supposed to do with him!?

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Damian: I wanna ride a horse

Y/n: Alright sweetie here’s the horse

Damian: That’s a horse? 

Damian: [picks up book] I thought this was a horse?

Y/n: Damian that’s a cow

Damian: I wanna ride that

Steph: Me moo

Y/n: You’re not helping 

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Tim, clearly drunk: I don’t even know how to drink! I’ve never had one! Like what do you even mix vodka with?

Y/n: A straw

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Y/n, at a PTM meeting: Wait- that guy is the bullying you?

Cass, under strict orders from Bruce not to fight: Hmm 

Y/n, knowing Bruce can’t say shit to him: [powering up] Not my first human, doubt it will be my last 

#dc x male reader #dc x reader #dc #BatFam #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing x male reader #nightwing x reader #nightwing #Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood #redhood x reader #red hood x male reader #Tim Drake #tim drake x reader #Red Robin #Damian Wayne #robin

[froggibus]

I've had this idea and I just want to give it to you as a request, I hope you're not too overworked with all the work you've been putting out for all of us! Maybe a one-shot with Hanzo or Genji (whichever you prefer to write the most!) where after a one night stand, you get pregnant and don't tell him in order not to burden them, etc and they find out via someone else or by picking up on small changes on your body, personality? Angst with a fluffy ending, but completely up to you if you want to make it all angst, etc!

Happy Little Accident - Genji Shimada

Pairing: Genji Shimada x reader

Genre: angst -> fluff

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: you get pregnant with your mission partner’s child after a one night stand, and now you’re not sure what to do

CW: pregnancy, reader is AFAB!, morning sickness, nausea, vomiting, angst, mentions of abortion (??), lots of crying, genji is relentless, ghosting

Happy Halloween!! I love this idea so much! thank you anon! also took a bit of a break cause I was SUPER tired after my first day of work, plus just wanted to play obey me in bed <3 enjoy lol

————

“Shit!” You scream, banging your head on the tile wall of your bathroom. 

The little stick you’re holding in your hand stares at you, two little pink lines on display. In your anger, you snap the stick in half and toss it across the room. It clatters, sound echoing through the room. 

Hot tears clouded your vision. How could you let this happen? With him of all people? It was one night. Just one. And now you were dealing with the consequences of your actions. 

Genji and you had just come back from a rough, three day mission, and you had one night to spend in London before the extraction team came. The two of you had never been close outside of work—only seeing each other when you had to. 

Yet you had always harboured a bit of a crush on him. The quiet man was good at what he does, and he was hot too. Spending a night in a cramped hotel room together didn’t help, either. 

One thing led to another and suddenly he was on top of you, muttering your name like a prayer and giving you the best night of your life. 

He hadn’t tried to reach out to you since, and to avoid an uncomfortable interaction, you decided to use up your vacation days. For the first week or so, you had a good time. You spent time at the beach and sipped mimosas. 

The second week is when it started to go to shit. You woke up every day feeling devastatingly nauseous. You thought you might have gotten food poisoning or something, but when it lasted longer than a few days, you knew what it was. 

Which brought you to this devastating moment where you’re staring at the shattered pieces of a pregnancy test, realizing you’re carrying Genji Shimada’s child. 

You place your head in your hands and tug on your hair in sheer frustration. 

—

You can’t help but lift up your shirt and look at yourself in the mirror. There’s no visible bulge, no significant change in your appearance. The only evidence of your situation is the pile of positive pregnancy tests in your trash can. 

There’s a ding from your phone, forcing you to drop your shirt and leave the bathroom to check it. 

Shimada: heard you’re not on assignment this week

You don’t answer, slamming your phone face down on the counter. God, how were you supposed to tell Genji? Not only could this end your career as an agent of Overwatch—it could end his, too. 

Another ding, another message. 

Shimada: sucks :( they’re putting me on assignment with Cass instead 

You take a deep breath before typing back. 

You: that sucks :(

You see the three dots show up, indicating that he’s typing and turn your phone off. You don’t want to deal with this right now, and instead settle on grabbing a pint of ice cream from the freezer and flopping into your bed. 

The world (and Genji) can wait a while longer. 

When you check your phone again, there are three messages. 

Shimada: is everything ok with you? 

Shimada: feels like youre avoiding me after the mission 

Shimada: i promise it won’t be awkward 

You check the messages but you have no desire to answer them. What do you even say? You can’t tell him the truth, it’ll just be a burden on him. 

You end up leaving him on read, turning your phone off again and going to bed. 

—

You go back to work after another week. Countless mission assignments wait for you, not to mention the incredibly annoyed cyborg ninja. 

“Y/n!” Genji practically ambushes when you make it to the hangar. 

“What’s up, Shimada?” 

You try not to look in his eyes but the man makes it impossible, purposely walking directly in front of you. 

“Are you avoiding me? You haven’t answered my texts.”

“I—“ you sigh, “listen, I was just out of work for a week. I’m supposed to be going on a mission with Lena, we’ll talk when I’m back, okay?”

It was the truth, mostly. Although you didn’t plan to tell him what was really bothering you, knowing it would only burden him. 

“Yeah, I know. I swapped with Lena,” your face went white at his words, “you’re going on the mission with me.”

“You swapped? Why?”

It was impossible to hide the panic in your voice. The two of you were going to be stuck, together, in a hotel for at least a night. There’s no way you’ll be able to avoid this conversation with him. 

“Because something is obviously going on and you’re going to tell me.”

“Just leave it alone, Genji.” You groan, “can’t I have any damn privacy?”

“Not when you’re hiding something from me!”

Morrison enters the room just in time to see the two of you mid argument. “Jesus!” He shouts, “the two of you are behaving like fucking children! Just get on the damn plane.”

You and Genji mumble out variations of ‘yes sir’ and slowly climb aboard the plane. You sit in the back row, as far away from him as possible. 

He gives you a sad look and sighs, taking his seat at the front near the pilot. The events of the morning, you could feel exhaustion overtaking you and before you know it, you’re drifting off into sleep. 

—

When you wake up, you’re laying down across the back row. The air in the jet is cold, but you’re surprisingly warm. When you sit up, a grey sweatshirt slips off your shoulders. 

You squint suspiciously at the fabric before realizing it’s Genji’s. The owner of the sweater is sitting in the row in front of you now, clearly asleep. 

You sigh and cuddle it closer. It smells like him. You miss being close to him, but you know it’ll only be a matter of time before he finds out and leaves for good. You settle in and try to swallow down the nausea, waiting for the jet ride to be over. 

By the time the two of you are at the hotel you’re meant to be staying in, you’re almost overwhelmed by the nausea. You barely manage to swipe the keycard and make it through the door before you’re skidding to your knees in the bathroom. 

Your stomach heaves with every wave of nausea, your arm propping your forehead up on the toilet seat. You don’t even hear Genji come in until he’s sitting next to you, rubbing your back. 

“Y-you don’t have to be here,” you mumble, tears rolling down your cheeks. 

“You’re sick, y/n. What else am I supposed to do?”

You bang your head on your arm, “not sick.” You moan miserably, “not sick…”

You raise your head from the toilet and suddenly Genji is wiping your face with a cold cloth, looking at you seriously. 

“But if you’re not sick—“ his eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

You sob, more tears coming. He’s going to figure it out. You let your head drop down and cover your face with your hands. 

“Y/n,” his voice is shaky. “Are you…are you pregnant?”

You cry harder at the word, nodding your head pathetically. Genji is taken aback, he has no clue what to do here. You’re pregnant, and you’ve been avoiding him—which can only mean:

“It’s mine, isn’t it?”

You nod again. “I-I’m so sorry G-Genji!”

You expect him to be angry or annoyed—to be mad at you for ruining his career. Instead, strong arms wrap around you and press you closer to his chest. 

One hand rubs your back while the other rubs your hair. You’re limp in his arms at first, but eventually you give in to the hug and let him hold you. 

“Shhh, no more tears,” he says. “It’s okay, y/n. I-I’m not mad, it’s okay. Everything is gonna be okay.”

“B-but—“

“But what?”

You cry, “I’m ruining your career! I had to-to go and get pregnant and now—now I’m just a burden!”

You can’t make it through your sentence without crying even harder, Genji desperately trying to keep you from spiraling into a panic attack. 

“How could I be mad about that? Y/n, you’re carrying my baby…I-I’m gonna be a dad,” he sniffles until your hair. “Unless you’re not planning on—“

“I’m gonna be a mom,” you realize, cutting him off. 

He pulls back so he can look you in the eyes and presses a messy, desperate kiss to your lips. “I didn’t even know I could have kids,” he cups your cheek, “I’m so happy right now.”

He pulls you back in for a kiss, and for a minute, everything feels alright. 

masterlist

#genji shimada #genji x you #genji smut #genji angst #overwatch 2 #overwatch #ow2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch fic #ow #xreader

[siancore]

Traditions

A/N: Written for @thatmexisaurusrex as part of the @sambuckylibrary SamBucky Gift Event. My last of the year. Thanks to everyone for supporting me this year. Enjoy!

Summary: Sam has plans to spend New Year's Eve alone on his family's boat. Bucky shows up out of nowhere, like he usually does, and the pair spend it together even though they aren't together anymore.

Read on AO3

“Don’t worry about me,” said Sam as he placed the last of his supplies in his waterproof bag. “Just enjoy yourself tonight. Make sure to take plenty of pictures of the boys. And if you need anything you let me know and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

“Thank you,” Sarah replied, the sound of AJ and Cass’ excited chatted wafter in the background of the call. “But this is your first weekend off in how long? You enjoy yourself, too. Make sure to check-in with us first thing in the morning.”

“You’re not planning on staying up late?”

“Nope. The boys can watch the ball drop, but we’ll be back in the hotel room not long after that.”

“I could’ve watched them, and you could’ve had a night out,” said Sam in earnest. “Still can.”

“No, it’s fine,” Sarah replied. “It’s their first New Year’s Eve in New Orleans. I want them to have fun. I want us to have fun together. Start a new tradition with them.”

“I hear you,” said Sam as he took a seat at the kitchen table. “Be safe out there. And if anything happens, call me.”

“To the rescue, uh?

Sam smiled and said, “Always.”

…..

The sun was still hanging low in the Louisiana sky as Sam loaded his truck. A soft breeze swirled around him, cold for that time of year in that part of the country. He pulled his jacket closed and placed the last of his supplies in the back seat. Just then, a car came up the driveway. Sam turned just in time to see Bucky exiting the vehicle.

“Bucky? What’re you doin’ here?” asked Sam, surprised to see him. “I thought you were on some secret mission?”

“I was due for R&R,” Bucky explained as he walked over to where Sam was standing. “Thought I’d see what you were doing.”

“You gotta learn how to use a phone, Buck,” said Sam with a laugh as the pair shared a quick embrace. “I’m takin’ the boat out.”

“I know. Sarah told me.”

“So, you know how to call Sarah but not me?”

“I was making sure she had everything she needed for New Year’s Eve in New Orleans,” said Bucky as he leaned against Sam’s truck. “She said you were stayin’ home. Thought you might want company.”

“And you sent yourself?” said Sam half teasing.

“The least I could do for you, Cap,” Bucky replied before nudging Sam with his shoulder. “So, you ready to ship out?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied. “Let’s head out.”

…..

Sam Wilson had been to so many different places all over the world, but nothing compared to being on his family’s boat out on the water just as the sun was setting. The vast and varied colors reflecting from the sky to the water soothed Sam as much as the steady rocking of the boat.  He was drawn from his reverie by Bucky handing over a plate of different cold cuts and cheeses.

“Sorry I didn’t bring a lot of food,” said Sam with a gentle smile. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“You got beers,” said Bucky as he clinked his bottle against Sam’s. “That’s good enough for me.”

Bucky settled in next to Sam on a deck chair at the stern of the boat. He sipped from his drink and glanced out over the shimmering waters. He then turned his head to look at Sam.

“This is nice,” said Bucky. “Thanks for letting me join you.”

Sam huffed out a laugh and said, “Like I had a choice. When you say, ‘I’m comin’ with you’, I’ve learned not to argue. You don’t listen anyways.”

Bucky let out a laugh and said, “That is true.”

Silence settled around them comfortably as Sam picked at his food and Bucky sipped from his beer.

“This the first time you’ve been out here since you got back?” Bucky suddenly asked.

Sam noticed that he did not ask a lot of questions generally, but rather sat back and observed. It was nice to have him taking an interest.

“Yeah,” said Sam. “First time in a long time.”

He turned his head to see Bucky watching him, so he continued to speak.

“It was kinda a tradition for us,” said Sam with a nostalgic tone to his voice. “Back in the day, when the seafood business was booming, the docks used to see a lot of action from tourists and locals. There was always music and food. A nice atmosphere around this time of the year. It ain’t New Orleans, but folks here knew how to have a good time.”

Bucky nodded and listened.

“My parents would close up the restaurant early and bring us kids out on the boat. We’d do the New Year countdown and watch the fireworks that Tommy let off from back up on the shore. We’d sail around a little longer after that, and eventually Sarah and Gideon’d be too tired and fall asleep, but I liked staying up pretending I was asleep. I liked listening to Mama and Daddy talk when they thought no one was listening. They’d talk about the year that’d passed and what they were thankful for. What they were looking forward to in the coming year. What they were scared of; how they’d get through it together. It was one of the best memories I have of them.”

“It sounds lovely, Sam,” said Bucky with a fond expression on his face.

“It was,” Sam agreed. “I just wanted what they had, y’know? Someone to face the familiar and the uncertain with.”

Tears welled in Sam’s eyes before he let out a little laugh and said, “Sorry, this time of year makes me sentimental.”

Before Bucky could reach out and place a comforting hand to Sam’s, he spoke again.

“What about you? What was your New Year’s Eve traditions before everything that happened – happened?”

“Fighting.”

“What?” asked Sam, unsure of if he had heard Bucky correctly.

“I don’t know if it was ever in those museum exhibits about the Howling Commandos, but I used to be a boxer.”

“Right, yeah. I remember Steve mentioned it once or twice,” said Sam with a smile. “Also heard you liked to dance. So, which did you like best? Dancing or boxing?”

“Well, Buttercup, dancin’ didn’t pay no bills,” said Bucky with a hint of his 1940s vernacular and swagger creeping in.

“It does if you’re good enough,” Sam teased, causing Bucky to roll his eyes playfully.

“I was plenty good,” Bucky defended. “I was just better with my fists, and everyone knew it. Guess that’s still a thing.”

There was a moment of melancholy that hung over them at the gravity of Bucky’s words.

“So, you fought on New Year’s Eve?”

“I was a champion fighter but did exhibition bouts on New Year’s Eve from the age of sixteen,” Bucky explained as he sipped from his drink. “That was my tradition. My old man would drive me to the YMCA because some snot-nosed punk would always want to challenge the champ.”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

“So, that’s how most of my New Year’s Eve’s went – fight a few rounds and then go out dancing with a shiner,” he smiled that crooked smile that made Sam feel weak.

“James Bucky Barnes out on the town with a black eye? I can only imagine the attention you got,” said Sam as he drank from his beer.

“The girls swooned over it,” said Bucky looking as if he was just now pulling the memories from deep inside. “And it lit some kinda fire in the belly of the fellas. I did alright.”

Sam’s lips quirked as he said, “Oh, I’m sure you did.”

…..

There weren’t near enough cushions, Sam realized, as he tried to get comfortable on the picnic blanket next to Bucky. The sun had set some time ago, and the pair were supine on the deck of the Paul & Darlene. Sam’s belly was full, and his heart was getting there. He was not expecting that his evening would go that way, but he was having an enjoyable time. He was glad to have Bucky back beside him. He was happy.

“These lights are a nice touch,” said Bucky gesturing to the string lights that hung overhead.

“Cass and AJ’s idea,” Sam explained with a fond smile. “They learned the word ambiance from Carlos and sorta ran with it.”

“They’re smart kids.”

“They are,” said Sam. “We could learn a lot from them.”

Bucky shifted next to Sam and was resting on his elbow. Sam turned his head and stared up at him.

“What?” asked Sam, taking in the intense look in Bucky’s eyes.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t smarter, Sam.”

“Don’t do that,” said Sam. “We agreed that you’d stop doin’ that.”

“I should’ve never left,” Bucky admitted. “Should’ve been smarter. Should’ve stayed with you.”

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda,” Sam replied, waving his hand. “You don’t owe me apologies. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I owe you everything,” said Bucky with so much sincerity it made Sam’s chest feel tight. “What if I stayed?”

“Would that make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“You know you can always fight, and then come back here to dance, right?” said Sam somewhat playfully. “Sure there’s a line around the block of folks who’d wanna dance with you – black eyes and all.”

“I only wanna dance with you, Sam,” said Bucky in earnest as he reached over to cup Sam’s face. “I only want you.”

Sam sat up and stared at Bucky, who mirrored his action. He shivered when a breeze came up off the water. Bucky grabbed a blanket from the nearby deck chair and draped it over Sam’s shoulders.

“This is my life now,” said Sam as he took hold of one of Bucky’s hands. “Sure, I’ll be Captain America until Torres and the others can figure things out, but this is my home. I’ve been away for too long. This is where I want to be. I want you to do whatever makes you happy, Bucky. If that’s working with Walker and the others, then cool. I just don’t think I can be with you in the way we both want without having you here with me. My heart can’t take the worry of not knowing where in the world you are. I can’t be with you and not have you with me.”

“I’m not going back to the Thunderbolts.”

“What? I thought you signed a contract?”

“To hell with their contract, Sam. I miss you and I want to be here with you.”

Sam let his head fall before Bucky tilted his chin up with his fingers and repeated, “I want to be here with you.”

Sam dipped his lips and placed a lingering kiss to Bucky’s knuckles. He lifted his gaze and stared into Bucky’s eyes.

“What about your future?”

“You’re my future, Sam,” Bucky stated plainly as he brought his hand up to caress Sam’s cheek.

“New Year’s Eve does this,” Sam tried to protest weakly. “Makes us do and say things. Makes us feel hopeful about the future.”

“You make me hopeful. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I know what I want.”

“Wow,” said Sam, as the overhead lights sparkled in his wet eyes. “You really mean it?”

“Yes, I mean it. Of course, I do. Sam, listen to me: We can’t ever know what the future’s got in store for us,” said Bucky as he ran his hand gently against Sam’s face. “All I know is that I wanna spend it with you. I wanna start new traditions with you.”

A distant crack and rumble of some far-off fireworks exploded and lit the darkened sky with all manner of colors. It sparked a warm memory in Sam that almost matched the warmth he felt in that moment. Maybe he could have something akin to what his parents had. Maybe new traditions were coming.

“Me, too,” said Sam as he took a deep, steadying breath and smiled sweetly at Bucky. “Me, too.”

#sambucky #sambucky fanfiction #sbgift2023

[nighterwriter]

Coincidence

Dick Grayson x reader

Word Count: 1414

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick was tired. Patrol had been rough and his body was paying the consequences of fighting one to five for hours on end in Gotham’s unforgiving rain. He groaned, trying to massage the tense part in his upper back that had been a victim of one too many punches. He picked up his phone and aimlessly scrolled through missed messages and social media posts, smiling softly when he reached your goodnight text.

Goodnight handsome. Be careful, be safe. Love you always.

Both of you had been busy the last three weeks, trying to juggle work life and personal stressors and because of this, the only time you talked was through good morning and good night texts. Dick’s chest ached. He missed you. He missed the smell of you that had faded from his apartment, the pastries you’d drop off at his work, the way your eyes glowed when you saw him at the end of a long work day. He wanted to be selfish and wake you up with a call - he knew you’d respond - but it wouldn’t be fair to you. At least you had a four-day weekend starting tomorrow - well today. He’d asked for the rest of the week off to spend it with you.

“The loverboy’s sad.” Tim craned his neck to read his texts and ducked when Dick tried to swat him away.

“Shut up dude.” 

“Aw, do ya need me to give you a good night’s kiss?” Duke puckered his lips and fought Dick’s outstretched hands. 

“Seems like you guys miss them more than me.”

“Duh,” Cass shrugged, “They’re cool.”

“They’re the only one that lets me get Warheads Double Drops.” Steph added.

“That burned your tongue to point of you needing grafts.” 

“It’s about living a good life, not living a long one.”

Damian sat in the throng, his face resting in a distasteful manner. He hadn’t liked you from the start. The family was weary at the beginning, which was customary, but the boy never seemed to warm up to you. He’d leave the room when you walked in and if he had to stay, he’d pick the farthest corner and ignore you until you left. You had tried to talk to him, but with the combination of his icy remarks and your aversion to confrontation, you thought it would be best to give him time and space. This broke Dick’s heart, of course. He had a feeling this would happen and tried to maintain the same amount of time he spent with his little brother, but every time something happened - whether it be because of work or something else - he knew that Damian would find a way to blame you. You understand and assured Dick you were okay with Damian’s feelings, they were brothers before you were together, but he could see the slight disappointment whenever you were ignored. You always wanted people to like you, but you knew that sometimes it wouldn’t work out that way, but it was a bigger bummer considering it was your boyfriend’s family.

“We’ve been busy with work, but we’re supposed to meet for lunch tomorrow.” He didn’t know why he was explaining this, but it felt better to get it off his chest instead of keeping it inside. God, he missed you.

Damian scoffed but didn’t say anything. Bruce looked up from the computer and opened his mouth, but Dick shook his head. It’s better to let him deal with it himself.

A noise came from the computer. Barbara frowned as she pulled up the tab, but then looked confused. 

“Someone’s at the front door.” It was three in the morning and raining heavily and Wayne Manor had gates that could only be accessed with a code.

“Excuse me, Mr. Wayne? I know it’s late and I didn’t mean to show up out of the blue, but I need help.”

What the hell were you doing here? You had pulled your hood down and were looking directly into the camera, your arms hugging your torso. You could’ve been a clone, maybe Clayface in disguise, but you had that familiar look in your eyes and you had known the gate code that Dick made sure to teach you in case of emergencies.

“Wait! There’s a code word… Wellington!” 

“By God, how much longer are you planning on letting the poor child stand out there?” Alfred reprimanded, gathering towels and heading towards the front door. 

Dick followed, a pit of worry digging itself into his stomach. He’d told you the code for emergencies and by the way you were holding your stomach, you might’ve been hurt, but the color of the hoodie was too dark to make any conclusions. 

Relief flooded your face as Alfred opened the door.

“Good morning, Mr. Pennyworth. Sorry for the intrusion.”

“The only thing you should be sorry for is the cold you’re going to catch if stand out there a minute longer.” The butler ushered you in, wrapping you in towels.

Your face brightened when you saw your boyfriend. “Hey baby.”

“What’s wrong? How’d you get here? Why’re you here?” Dick gently rubbed a towel against your hair. 

“I took the bus and I walked here.”

“Babe, it’s three in the morning. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I needed to come here as soon as I could. Good thing bus fare at two in the morning’s cheap.” The rest of the group soon joined in the foyer, watching amused as the couple bickered. Your arms were still caged against your body and the closer Dick looked, the lumpier the area looked. “And I didn’t come here for you, I came for Damian.”

The boy’s scowl had deepened when you called his name and took a step towards him.

“I was gonna go to bed, but I remembered I had to take the trash out. When I got there, I found these little guys.” You cradled your stomach as you gently unzipped your hoodie. Cradled in your hands, five kittens were asleep, curled against each other. “No momma in sight.”

Damian’s face brightened when he saw the creatures. Two of them were all grey, one was grey and white and the other two were grey and black. Gently, you scooped two up and placed them in Damian’s awaiting hands, giving the other three to Cass and Jason. Your teeth were chattering as Dick wrapped a towel around you and threw your soaked hoodie to the floor. 

“I would’ve kept them ’til tomorrow, but my landlord saw me skulking around the trash and I’m pretty sure he’s been waiting for me to slip up and break my lease.”

“That’s why I told you to move in with me.” Dick murmured, pulling you into a hug and rubbing your back to generate some warmth. 

”We’re not having this conversation right now.”

“Where will they go?” Damian asked quietly, biting back a smile when one of the kittens let out a mewl.

“I can’t keep them, no pets allowed at my apartment complex and I don’t know the first thing about taking care of kittens,” You paused, “Maybe you could keep them? Or find them a loving home?”

He was quiet as he gingerly petted each kitten, eyes searching for any fleas or wounds. Dick wanted to believe that this had been planned. Kittens near your trash was as stereotypical as it got. But you never left without your phone (there was no trace of it on your person) and you risked getting sick which is something you hated because of your work’s shitty tendencies. It’s a coincidence, he thought as he kissed the top of your head repeatedly as he watched Damian play with the only kitten awake. One hell of a coincidence. One sent by someone who wanted you and Damian to get along.

“Off to the showers with you. You’ll spend the night in the manor before accompanying Master Dick back to Bludhaven for your much-needed time off.” Alfred’s words weren’t a suggestion. You nodded and kissed Dick before going to follow, but were stopped by Damian speaking.

“After you collect yourself… would you like to assist me in the kittens’ bathing and feeding?” He sounded uncomfortable, his eyes flitting quickly to yours and back to the kittens, but it was enough to make your heart swell.

“Yeah sure.”

Dick smiled as he watched you hide your giddiness as you followed Alfred. 

Maybe it was more than a coincidence.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson drabble

[the-alice-of-hearts]

DickTim Week Day 4: AOB

Rated Mature, 1150 words, while no archive warnings would apply these would be my warning tags: omegaverse, talk of mpreg but no actual mpreg in fic, alcohol mention, hangovers, mentions of drunk texting.

Posting a couple days late for @dicktimweek but I think I'm almost done with today's entry so it'll be on time!

“Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck!” Tim rolled out of bed to pace across his room while continuing to check his phone. “Oh fuck.” 

“Uh, Tim, buddy? Wanna slow down and tell us what happened?” Steph asked from where she was sitting up on his bed. 

“What happened? What happened? You know what happened! You were there!” He stopped to stare at her. “Why didn’t you take away my phone after we did shots?!” He demanded. 

“Wouldn’t let us,” Cass grumbled and grabbed the blanket that Steph had moved off of them. “Sleep now, food later.” 

The other omega settled into Steph’s lap and started to snore again. 

“I drunk texted Dick!” Tim snapped and that woke Cass back up and got both girls looking at him. “Why would I do that???” 

Cass sat up and groaned. “Food first, then feelings.” 

“Well, I would love to go out on a date with him! But I already poured out all my feelings to him last night.” He hissed. 

Steph threw his pillow at him. “She means for us, idiot. Give me your card and I’ll order delivery, I am not taking you out when you can smell the distress coming off of you from a mile away.” 

Tim felt his face heat up and then started digging around for his wallet before tossing it to her. “Use the purple one, I’ll go shower. There’s water in the fridge.” 

He walked to the shower and then froze when his phone chimed with an incoming message. Quickly turning on the water he checked it, it was a message from Dick and he dreaded opening it knowing what he had sent last night.

Hope you’re feeling okay this morning. Need anything for the epic hangover you probably have?

Tim hovered his thumbs over the keys and finally gave up on sending a message back. He needed a shower and some water before he thought about talking to his long-time crush after confessing his feelings for the alpha. “Ugh! Stupid!” 

---

Tim was settling down to eat breakfast with Cass and Steph when there was another knock at the door. They all looked at the door and then back to one another before Steph got up to check it. “You expecting anyone, boyfriend?” 

Tim shook his head and watched her open the door. “Oh thank god he’s not alone.” Dick’s voice drifted into the apartment. 

“Hey, Dick!” Cass called from the table inviting him in. “Want some pancakes?” 

Tim kicked Cass under the table and glared at her. She turned to stick her tongue out at him. 

Dick looked around when Steph got back to her seat and then looked straight at Tim. “Sorry, I know you guys are probably recuperating from last night. I was just worried when Tim didn’t answer my text this morning.” 

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I was in the shower and then food was here when I got out.” Tim couldn’t keep eye contact and kept looking back at the table. 

“Welp! This is totally not awkward!” Steph stood up and grabbed Cass by the hand. “See ya later Tim-tam, let me know if you need anything.” 

The girls were out of the apartment before Tim could say anything to stop them leaving him with a wink and a lear on Steph’s part and a thumbs up from Cass. 

“Have you drank water?” Dick asked from much closer than he had been before. 

Tim turned to look at the alpha and nodded. “Yeah, drank a bottle when I got out of the shower.” 

“Good,” Dick responded and then moved in closer to Tim. “I have some questions.” 

Tim sighed and looked down at his hands. “Yeah, that makes sense. I said… a lot last night.” 

Tim heard Dick pull Steph’s chair over so he could sit right next to Tim. “You did, and I know you, so I know that it’s likely if I didn’t track you down this morning then you wouldn’t let me near you at all for months until I quit asking about it.” 

Tim shook his head and picked at his eggs. “Wouldn’t have taken months.” 

Dick chuckled and carefully pulled Tim’s free hand into his own. “You’re right, but it would have been unstable.” 

“Ask your questions,” Tim said in a small voice. 

“Did you mean it?” Dick asked carefully. 

Tim winced and kept his attention on his plate. “I- well I- it’s-”

“Omega, look at me,” Dick commanded him and Tim was compelled to look at his chosen alpha. “Don’t try to explain it away, just yes or no, did you mean it?” 

Tim swallowed and gave a jerky nod. “Yes.” 

Dick trailed one of his hands up Tim’s arm. “All of it?” 

“Yes, alpha.” Tim whimpered when Dick lightly tickled the inside of his elbow. 

“You want me?” Dick asked again.

“Dick, I want you more than sober me can explain,” Tim admitted. 

“Try to,” Dick whispered, leaning in closer. 

Tim thought about it for a second and then looked at Dick’s eyes, they were warm and open and loving, and maybe this would be okay. He took a shaky breath and started. “I crave your scent, even when I’m not in heat. I want to be near you and to make you smile makes me so insanely happy. I light up when you laugh at one of my jokes because I know that you’re pleased with me. When I smell other omegas on you I want to cover you in my own scent and make you smell like mine. When I am in heat all I can think about is the one emergency heat cycle that you spent taking care of me. I want you to claim me, and mark me up, I want you to make me smell so much like an owned omega that the board members gag on it. I want to have you in my nest for every heat and I want you to pump me full of pups.” 

Dick smiled at him and placed a hand on Tim’s cheek holding his face still. “If you have no objection, I’m going to kiss you now.” 

Tim stared into his eyes. “I need you to be sure. I can’t be a fling, not with you.” 

Dick brushed a thumb under Tim’s eye. “Babybird, you have no idea how many nights I have stayed awake wishing to hear those words from you. Every time you came over I wanted to take you to my den and have my way with you. I want to feed you and provide for you, I want to see you be the dam to my pups and help me train each of them to be tech geniuses and acrobats combined into one. Tim, I want you so badly, and reading your drunk texts just confirmed that for me. Please let me kiss you, please let me claim you.”

#dicktim #dicktimweek2023 #dicktimweek #my writing #alice writes #omegaverse #omega Tim Drake #alpha Dick Grayson #Steph is also an alpha and Cass is an omega and they are a bonded couple

[theladyofdeath]

Better or Worse {Chapter Two}

Nessian. Angst. Modern au.

@snelbz x @theladyofdeath collab

Better or Worse Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for all who read chapter 1! I've been so pumped to share this one with you all. We hope you enjoy it...even the sad parts.

Warnings: depictions of child loss, language.

~Nesta~

“The last six chapters…” my editor sighs, and I know that I’m not going to like what’s coming next. “They lack depth. I feel like they’re just words on a page, there’s no real meaning there. I mean, there’s hardly any sex once they make up and I hate to be the one to tell you this, but that’s kind of what you’re known for.”

I roll my eyes at her sarcasm, even though she can’t see my face. I tuck my phone between my ear and shoulder as I shut my laptop and pick up my empty water glass. “So what. Rewrite with more fucking?”

“Rewrite with emotion,” she explains, as I leave my home office and go downstairs. I need a break from the screen. The second I got home from my office in the city, I instantly went upstairs and tucked myself away. 

“Fine,” I sigh, entering the kitchen. “When do you want rewrites by?”

My list of rewrites is growing. I had barely made this deadline. My anxiety only grows as she says, “Can you have them to me by Monday?”

“Monday?” I ask, exasperated. “Are you kidding me?”

“We have to get this to the publisher soon. We’re running out of time, Nesta.”

I lean against the counter, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Alright. Yeah. Fine. Monday.” I hear the garage door open and quickly say, before she can give me any more bad news, “I have to go. Talk to you soon.”

I hang up just before the door opens and Nyx comes barreling in, his smile wide and his backpack massive on his little, four-year-old frame.

“Aunt Nesta!”

My anxiety lessens just a little bit as he runs into my open arms and I swing him around, peppering his cheeks with kisses. “Hi, my boy. Oh, I’ve missed you.”

He takes my face into his hands and whispers, “Uncle Cass got me a milkshake. Chocolate.”

“I’m so jealous,” I whisper back, and set him down.

We’ve picked Nyx up from preschool every other Tuesday since he started a year ago. We swap every other week with Azriel and Elain, since Tuesdays are the one day that Rhys and Feyre’s work schedules clash. I cherish the time with my nephew — he’s growing way too fast.

Cassian steps through the door a minute later, holding a bag of groceries and what looks like a half empty milkshake. 

“Hey,” he says, not even looking at me.

“Hey,” I reply, quietly. We’ve hardly spoken a word to each other in days.

I was home before he was on the night he wanted to cook me dinner. I was in bed before he was, too. I don’t remember the last time either of those things happened. The white flag I’d brought home in the form of a chocolate pie had long since been put in the fridge and forgotten and my feelings of mediation had been replaced with frustration at the late hour. When he got in bed and smelled like a frat house, I pretended to be asleep, stewing in my anger and sudden sense of resentment towards my husband, rather than snapping at him like I wanted to.

He was awake and gone before I even woke up the next morning.

“I got a couple of steaks and potatoes. Nyx loves the garlic mashed potatoes at the restaurant—” When he looks over his shoulder at my expression, his words fade away. “What?”

“I ordered pizza,” I say, slowly.

His body tenses, as I expected it would, and he starts putting everything he got from the grocery store into the refrigerator with a little too much force. 

“Go ahead and cook,” I say, trying to ease the tension, for Nyx’s sake. “We can put the pizza in the fridge and reheat it tomorrow—”

“It’s fine.” I know that tone. It’s final.

Giving up on the conversation and letting Cassian stew in his anger, I turn to Nyx with a smile. “Why don’t you go put your backpack and your shoes by the front door, buddy?”

He looks between us before nodding and exiting the room. 

“I’m sorry,” I start, carefully, when Nyx is out of the room. “I was just trying to make quick dinner plans.”

“It’s fine,” he says, closing the refrigerator door. “I should’ve called first.” 

“Cass—”

“Let’s just pretend while Nyx’s here, alright?” He turns to face me, those broad, inked arms crossed.

I lift a brow. “Pretend?”

“Yeah, pretend,” he says, voice low. I hate the look in his eyes, hate the distance that’s between us. “Pretend to be happy, or whatever. Pizza is great.”

Before I can say anything more, he leaves the room. A second later, I hear Nyx’s giggling as he’s tossed over his uncle’s shoulder.

Pretend.

I hate that we have to pretend, hate that we don’t  know how to simply be happy anymore. I hate that he didn’t expect to have a pleasant conversation with me, that his body tensed so quickly, that he couldn’t wait to get out of the room. At least I’m home and not at the office, or working upstairs. Even though I have a deadline to meet in less than a week. 

I don’t leave the kitchen until I hear the doorbell ring a few minutes later. I meet the pizza delivery boy on the porch and pay for our extra large meat lovers pizza and breadsticks before bringing it back to the kitchen and distributing it onto plates. 

The only thing that brings a smile to my face is Nyx coming into the room, thinking that a pizza night in is the best thing ever.

The three of us sit at the kitchen table and eat. At first, Nyx is the only one saying anything, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Cassian keeps glancing at me. I can feel his eyes, but fear returning his fleeting looks.

“Aunt Nesta?”

I blink, realizing that with the way Nyx is staring at me, he must have asked me a question and I completely missed it. I glance at Cassian to see if he’ll give me any assistance but his expression is…pained.

“I’m sorry, buddy, I didn’t hear you,” I say, painting a smile on my face.

Cassian clears his throat. “Nyx, why don’t you tell Aunt Nesta what color you worked on at school today?” From the tone of his voice, it’s clear that he hadn’t asked me about the color of the day.

“When are you and Uncle Cass gonna get me a baby to play with?”

My nephew’s big blue eyes gaze at me, full of curiosity and innocence, just like he is.

His question burns through me though, right to the core, and suddenly, I feel hollow.

Barren.

Empty.

“Aunt Lainy is getting me a baby, that’s what daddy said.” He picks up his pizza with both hands, tearing into it like a wild animal. “And that’s why her tummy is getting big. When are you getting a baby?”

I close my eyes and for a second, all I can see is blood. Blood staining bed sheets and a white, clinical examining room. Tears, and not just mine.

Fear and devastation and heartache and—

Fingertips graze my leg under the table and my eyes snap open, finding Nyx laughing at something Cassian had said. His own smile matches Nyx’s, but it’s strained, his eyes meeting mine for a brief second.

I have no idea what he’d said to derail our nephew’s curiosity, but I suddenly can’t pretend everything is alright at this moment.

Standing quickly, I pick up my plate and mumble, “I’ll be right back,” before heading for the small bathroom off the living room.

My breathing has quickened but I close my eyes and focus on breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth as I grip the porcelain countertop. I convince the tears not to come — something I’m an expert of at this point in my life — and wait until my breathing is under control before I open my eyes and meet my reflection in the mirror. I can still hear Nyx’s giggles from the kitchen, and I silently thank my husband for doing what he does best…being the world’s best uncle and most obnoxious distraction. 

My reflection nearly make my tears start again.

The circles beneath my eyes are dark and my eyes are distant, bloodshot. I’ve lost weight recently, I can tell, and not the good kind. There’s nothing healthy about my pale skin and the way my collarbone is perfectly on display all of the sudden. After spending so many hours working, I haven’t been the best about taking time to eat and maintain my diet, my exercise. I can’t remember the last time I had gone to yoga or done any other sort of physical activity. I haven’t been taking care of myself.

I haven’t been taking care of my husband, either.

I know it. He knows it. We all know it, and we’re dancing around it, just like we dance around everything, but I can’t help it. I have worked hard for my career, and my obsessive mind is controlled by gaining success. 

A soft knock comes to the bathroom door. I clear my throat. “Yeah?”

Cassian’s soft voice comes through the other side. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” I lie. “Be out in a sec.”

“Okay.” There’s a beat of silence. “Feyre’s on her way.”

I take a few more deep breaths as his footsteps vanish down the hall, then I’m opening the door and going back to the living room, like nothing is wrong.

Dinner is apparently over, the plates and pizza box cleaned off the kitchen table and leftovers stored away in the fridge. Bluey is playing on the television in the corner and Nyx is hanging over the arm of the couch, watching intently.

Something brushes along my arm and I jump, swearing under my breath as I move away, as if I’d been burned.

Cassian is standing there, his hand still outstretched, something like hurt written across his face. “Really, Nes?”

“You scared me.” I’m snapping, I have absolutely no reason to snap but my emotions are rubbed raw and I feel like I have no control over them or myself. “You snuck up on me.”

His eyes, already so different from the way they used to look at me, harden as he pulls away. “I was just making sure you were okay—”

“I told you I was fine.”

He nods, face like granite, turning away from me and heading into the living room. Without a word, he scoops up Nyx and plops down onto the couch, settling in to watch his show.

I stay put, staring at the two of them. They’re so cute, so comfortable…yet, I feel like I’m a shadow, watching from a distance. An outsider in my own home.

Guilt sweeps over me, but it’s subdued. Every emotion I feel has been diminished, numbed. I debate on joining them, on sitting beside them on the couch, joining them in their peace. But in my state of numbness, I know I would be of no good to them. I go back into the kitchen and find an unopened bottle of wine. After pulling free the cork, I pour myself a glass. Just before the rim touches my lips, the doorbell rings.

I hurry to the door before Cassian can get up off the couch and welcome my youngest sister inside. She smiles at her one and only child before greeting me, wrapping me in her arms.

“I feel like we haven’t talked in forever,” she says, before picking Nyx’s backpack up off the ground. “We need to get together soon. Me, you, Lainy.”

“Agreed,” I smile. At least, I smile the best that I can. “Do you want to stay for a while? Or…”

“No, that’s okay. Rhys will be home soon, and it’s almost little man’s bedtime.” As if on cue, Nyx runs into Feyre’s arms. 

“Mommy! I had a milkshake and pizza!” he yells, giddily. “Can we get ice cream?”

Feyre laughs quietly and I smile, just as Cassian approaches and gives my sister a hug. “I don’t think so, buddy,” Feyre says, calmly. “Shoes, then let’s go. Come on.”

Nyx groans but does as he's asked.

“Was he good?” Feyre looks from me to Cassian. 

“An angel,” Cassian says, smiling. I guess he would know more so than me. “As always.”

“Good,” she grins, and gives Cassian one last hug. After giving me a kiss on the cheek, she scoops Nyx into her arms. “Sunday, come over for lunch. Yeah?”

“Sounds good,” I say, mustering the best smile I can. We tell them both goodbye and then it’s just the two of us, standing in silence. 

We used to never have uncomfortable silences, but now here we are… the tension so thick that we can cut it with a knife.

I go to take a step back into the kitchen, but Cassian blocks my path. “Do you wanna talk about it now?”

“No.” The word is short, but adamant. 

Cassian, the stubborn bastard he is, isn’t accepting that answer. “Nesta, we should talk.”

“I don’t want to talk right now.”

“Know what? I don’t care what you want. I want to talk, we’re talking.”

My jaw locks but I don’t try to move again. Fine. He wants to talk, we’ll talk. “What do we have to talk about?”

Cassian takes a deep breath. “At dinner—”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“We have to.”

“No, we don’t!” I yell, my fists tightening at my sides. “We don’t have to talk about anything I don’t want to talk about. You can’t make me talk about shit that I don’t want to talk about, Cassian.” 

I can see the fury in his eyes, can sense how infuriated he is by the tension of his shoulders, but he doesn’t act on it. He simply says, as calmly as he can, “Nesta, please.”

“No,” I say, and now my hands are shaking. “I’m going to bed.”

“You never go to bed this early.”

“Fine. I’m going to write.”

I take one step, and that's all it takes. He explodes. “Damn it, Nesta! Talk to me!”

I don’t flinch. In order to flinch, you have to feel something, but I feel nothing. I meet Cassian’s crazed, desperate stare. “I don’t want to talk about dinner.”

“Then talk to me about something,” he begs, pleads. “Because I feel like we haven’t had a genuine conversation in months.”

“That’s not true.”

“It isn’t?” he asks, and I can tell he’s constraining himself. “Because I can’t recall a time when we weren’t snapping at one another, or your tone isn’t begging me to back the fuck off and mind my own business.” I open my mouth to reply, but he keeps going. “I can’t even ask if my wife is okay, because she doesn’t fucking respond, she just says she’s fine when she’s clearly not. Do you know how frustrating that is?”

I swallow, looking away from him.

I’m not fine. Not even close.

But he doesn’t know that. He can’t, nobody can.

I turn and continue heading for the stairs.

“I can’t do this anymore, Nes.”

The words are so quiet that I’m not quite sure if I hear him right. Turning around to look back at him, I see his eyes are on the floor. “You can’t do what?”

“This,” he says, gesturing between us. There’s something in his hazel eyes I don’t usually see there. “This pretending that we’re doing. I’m done with it.”

“What is with you and pretending?” I demand, finally snapping, my voice raising.

His jaw locks, and a fire I don’t usually see has enveloped his eyes. “Me and pretending…” He shakes his head. “Nesta, that’s all we’ve been doing. Nothing between us has been real in a long time.”

I swallow. “What the hell are you talking about?”

I know what he’s talking about. Every word from his mouth makes perfect sense. I would never admit it, though. “I’m done,” he says, shaking his head. 

I swallow. “The hell are you talking about?”

“A divorce,” he spits. “I want a divorce.” 

A divorce.The words haunt me. They don’t register, don’t settle. “What?”

“I think we should separate,” he says, calmly, even though he looks anything but calm. 

I try to make sense of his words, try to understand where he’s coming from, but I can’t. “What?” I repeat, a little more strongly. 

Cassian’s eyes drift from mine as he looks at the floor. “This isn’t working, Nesta. Me. You. It’s not working.”

“Are you…” My words fall off as I shake my head. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No,” he begins, eyes on me. “No, I’m not fucking kidding you. Nesta, I don’t even know who you are anymore. Shit, I don’t even know who I am anymore. I don’t know what the hell we’re doing here, and I’m starting to think that it’s not worth it.”

“You don’t mean that,” I bite out. My chest is heaving. I might be hyperventilating, but I can’t focus on my body. Only his words. I repeat, through gritted teeth, “You don’t mean that.”

Cassian doesn’t reply, just heads to the coat closet off the living room, reaching inside and pulling out—

“You’re leaving?” I breathe, watching as he slings the duffel bag over his shoulder.

His voice is quiet, but he won’t look at me. “I think it would be best.”

He starts to leave, is heading for the kitchen, and to the garage where his truck waits.

He’d had a bag packed.

He’d planned this.

He’s serious.

“You promised!” My scream surprises even me, but Cassian freezes in the middle of the kitchen. He doesn’t turn to face me, but he pauses. I don’t waste my opportunity. “You promised, Cassian, through better or worse, that you would be here.”

Glancing over his shoulder, his eyes connect with mine, and then he speaks the words that I swear are aimed at my soul. “So did you.” He stands there for only a few more heartbeats before he turns and continues heading for the door.

As it opens and closes, I stay put, listening as the garage door does the same. When all is quiet, I wait, hoping he’d change his mind, that the door leading to the garage would open back up and he’d come back in and say this was all a stupid prank.

But he doesn’t.

And as I sink to my knees, I know that I’m the only one to blame.

#nessian #modern au #snacmc collabs #snacmc collab #nesta #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #sjm #fanfic #fanfiction #nesta x cassian #cassian x nesta #nessian better or worse

[ggomos-maribat]

[8/?]

original prompt | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Marinette sometimes wonders why her family is awful at keeping secret identities.

Then she thinks of one reason: their excuses never line up. She witnesses it firsthand one day when Jason enters the living room, wearing a cast and an arm sling.

She fakes a gasp. "Jason! Your arm!"

"'Tis but a scratch, Pix." Jason waves it off. He picks up the jacket he's looking for and stretches one arm to ruffle her hair.

"What happened to it?" Marinette asks.

"It---" Jason's phone chimes before he can get an answer out. "Next time, I'll tell you. Gotta go now."

He exits the room quickly. Moments later, Damian appears with his sketchpad in one hand.

Marinette looks up from her phone. "Dames, do you know what happened to Jason?"

"Tt. He was being reckless as usual." The preoccupied Damian searches the room, perhaps for his pencil. "Fell down from his apartment."

Marinette blinks. "Why am I only hearing this now?"

He rolls his eyes. "It is no surprise for Todd to get injured often."

---

That afternoon, she sees Dick in the kitchen, looking around for home-baked snacks to eat. She opens the fridge to hand him a slice of cake that she already prepared.

"Do you know what happened to Jason's arm?" Marinette grabs a slice for herself.

Dick laughs out loud. "His arm? I bet him he can't catch an M&M in his mouth while doing a flip."

"Spoiler alert." The eldest smirks. "He can't."

Marinette hums, not bothering to question that this couldn't have happened the previous night because Dick just came back from a trip that morning. And she's seen Jason without a broken arm the day before.

---

Next, she manages to catches Tim on his laptop in the dining hall. She looks at the stack of papers on the table, checking if he hasn't messed up signing any of them due to sleep deprivation.

"I saw Jay today. His arm is broken," Marinette says. "Any clue what happened to him?"

Tim sips on his coffee, not even blinking once. "Space dinosaurs. They got him last night and sent him off to the moon, I'm sure. Apparently one of them was a robot hybrid and their leader's a pterodactyl. He's lucky he got away with just a broken arm."

---

At that point, the responses don't even surprise Marinette anymore. What's amusing to her is that none of her siblings realize that they've given her conflicting answers.

She runs into Cass in the city and she brings up Jason's arm.

With a deadpan face, Cass replies, "He was being an idiot."

And she offers no additional explanation.

---

"Do both of you happen to know why Jason's arm is broken?" Marinette raises an eyebrow.

"Jason's arm is what now?!" Duke nearly spits out his drink.

"Yeah, I saw him this morning. It looked pretty bad."

Duke mumbles something about getting extra work because of that. Marinette looks at him with a mixture of confusion and pity.

"I know why!" Stephanie sips loudly on her straw. "You won't believe it. This drunk girl attacked him out of nowhere last night and twisted his arm!"

" . . . What?"

"His ego is in a worse state, trust me."

---

Finally---finally---Marinette manages to talk to Jason herself. She corners her after dinner time and points to the cast.

"What happened to you, Jay?"

"This?" His face scrunches up in an effort to find the perfect story. He gives up and says, "I fell on the stairs."

"You fell on the stairs?"

"Yup. I slipped and fell."

Marinette nods in understanding. "Will you be okay?"

"Don't worry, I'll be fine." He reassures her with a smile.

---

Of course, Marinette knows the real reason.

She was there when Jason broke his arm.

Inari watches carefully as Red Hood grapples to another ledge. A stray cat shrieks out of the blue, startles him, and he wobbles in his swing, giving him a bad landing.

The vigilante lays face down on the ground, grunting in pain.

Inari grimaces. "Ouch."

She puts on her earpiece and sends a distress signal to the location.

Taglist:

@tinybrie @sinoffalsejudgement @its-maemain @kamarallil @toughluna @golden-promises @whatamoodhoney @trippingovermyfeet

*if you want to be tagged, feel free to ask in the comments and I'll add you to the taglist :)

#maribat fic #maribat #maribat fanfic #bio dad bruce wayne #fox DCW #mlb x dc #dc x mlb #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat jason todd #maribat batfam #poor jayjay

[ladytauria]

Jaytimsteph falling in love with your best friends partner you say 👀 please say more

happily!

this one is being written as a prompt response to @waffleinator-inator <3

writing it was my first time writing steph pov and she just---ran away with me <3 basically: steph and tim are besties but also exes, because as much as they love each other, they finally decided to give up after one too many break-ups. and now! tim is with jason <3 and steph is really happy for him. really, and truly she is.

now.

if she could kindly tell herself to stop falling in love with jason too, that would be nice <3

i THOUGHT i had shared snippets of this wip before but i,,, have not. or if i have, i can't find them in my tags / through tumblr's search. which is upsetting bc it means i now have to pick which of these segments i want to share TuT

hm.

you know what.

actually i won't pick. you get um. 3 snippets <3

Steph spins her chair, balancing her elbow on the arm and cradling her chin in her hand. She thumbs her phone open. One unread message in the group chat she shares with Jason and Tim.

Her traitorous heart flutters; a smile curling on her mouth despite herself.

[TIM] gna mss mv nte. sry steph 😔 m SO bhnd on bdgt rvw; tam’s gna kill me. u 2 shld stl hve fn tho

Ah, yes. Timothy “vowels are optional” Drake. He’s the most atrocious texter Steph has ever met, and she hates that that makes her feel fond.

[STEPH] i thought you loved paperwork?

[JAY] No, he’s a stalker who loves digging through other people’s stuff. Actual paperwork he could care less about

[TIM] 🛑

[JAY] No <3 I told you to do it last night, babe.

[STEPH] lmao busted

[TIM] ws bsy

[JAY] He was gaming with Kon and Bart.

[TIM] & cassie & cissie

[JAY] And Cassie and Cissie.

Steph snorts.

[STEPH] oh, well, that was more important, obvs

[TIM] steph gts it

[JAY] Please don’t encourage him.

[STEPH] that sounds perfect. ur the best jay 💜

[TIM] 😭

[STEPH] do your paperwork, tim 💅🏼

[TIM] prsctn

[JAY] …wtf tim

[STEPH] damn, babe. u made jay drop capitals

[STEPH] but also. what the fuck tim

[TIM] persecution

[JAY] Would it really kill you to type out full words?

[TIM] y 🙂

[STEPH] losing battle, hon. we’re lucky he still uses letters.

He doesn’t bother with Cass. Their conversations happen in full emoji, like modern hieroglyphics. Steph gives herself an 80% chance of correctly deciphering them.

With the rest of them, Tim uses words. Or, well. Something approximate to words, chopping them down to their basest parts. It’s kind of entertaining, especially when it makes both Bruce and Jason furrow their brows in exactly the same way.Not that Steph would ever point that out. She has some sense of self-preservation.

Steph will always be a little bit in love with Tim Drake.

It’s something she’s come to accept about herself, the same way she accepts that her curls will always have a mind of their own, that her stretch marks are here to stay, and that her left knee will always ache before it rains.

She also knows that it’s best they stay just friends. Not that that’s a hardship, or anything. Tim is a hell of a lot better friend than he was a boyfriend—though in hindsight, Steph can admit she wasn’t a stellar girlfriend, either. They were young and dumb—or, well, younger and dumber—and now their history was too fraught to ever think about trying again.

Steph loves being Tim’s bestie, even when that means biting her tongue about his relationships.

Especially with Jason Todd of all people.

Steph can honestly say she never saw that coming.

Like, sure, okay. He’s hot. Steph can admit that, she’s got eyes.

He’s the kind of guy you could actually climb like a tree—tall and broad and thick to boot, with thighs made for biting and pecs Steph is pretty sure would fit nicely in one of her bras. He’s also handsome, in a rugged sort of way, with his twice broken nose and the scar curving up his cheek and his full, kissable lips. His curls always manage to be perfect, too—artfully messy, even when he falls asleep on the couch or takes off that helmet of his.

It’s enviable, really.

Some day she’ll ask him his secret.

But… Steph always kind of saw him as a walking bad idea. The kind of guy baby Steph would have adored, which… Steph loves baby Steph—or she’s trying to—but she had shit taste in men. And Jason, with his leather jackets and guns and daddy issues (and mommy issues too, come to think of it)—

He certainly fit the bill.

Except—

Despite all outward appearances… Jason is a good guy. He’s smart, and funny, and passionate, and kind, and—

Ugh.

Steph kind of hates him a little.

Because, like. Steph can handle thinking about Jason sometimes, in a not-so-friendly, maybe-a-little-bit-sexy way. Tim, too—or even both of them together. Maybe sometimes it gets a little awkward but… Fantasizing is human, and Steph is an adult. She can picture them fucking her and each other six ways to Sunday, doing whatever the raunchiest part of her brain cooks up, and still behave normally around them after.

She’s a grown woman. Her hormones are not the fucking boss of her.

So. Attraction? Handled. Steph has that shit on lock.

What she cannot handle is—Feelings.

#this fic issss almost 5k #altho... i think some of that is my notes actually so maybe not #anyway i love them #when this fic stops giving me difficulty i would love to finish and share with you <3 #bc literally the texting bit? and stephs introspection?? some of my fave stuff i've written <3 #sigh #jaytimsteph #i was going to tag other variations of their ship name but i think that would take.........9??? tags #did i do that math right? hm #tauriawritesfanfic #dcu #lovely anons #asks and answers #wip ask game

[itsthedoodle]

This Love Is Alive Back From The Dead

Summary: The last time Feyre and Rhys saw each other was senior year when she abruptly decided to end things between them. Ten years later, they meet again at their high school reunion.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: none

Read on AO3 from the beginning or continue with Chapter 2

@officialfeysandweek2023

Chapter 2

One day earlier

Rhys could not believe he was doing this. When Mor told him about the high school reunion and how it was going to be a revival of their prom, he had needed about four shots before he felt ready to unpack that plan and all its implications. Prom was part of the pile of thoughts he had shoved to the very back of his mind and absolutely refused to think about. 

He had promised Mor he would go, but with each mile closer to his hometown, the stitches of an old but still aching wound had started unraveling at a fast pace. 

Rhys was mature enough to admit he was nervous. The person responsible for that nervousness was the only one he’d ever loved, and he was also mature enough to admit he still loved her. 

He knew she hadn’t dated. There had never been anyone else. So why had she ended things with him?

He stepped through the door of his unsurprisingly empty childhood home, tossing the keys on the small table next to the spiral staircase. He didn’t bother calling his father—the man either never picked up or was always busy. The two of them had what one would consider a purely professional relationship, that of a CEO and CFO, and once Rhys took over as CEO, they would stop having a relationship altogether. 

His phone pinged, the screen lighting up with a message from Mor, asking him to meet in an hour. With no one to talk to and precious free time on his hands, he showered, dressed, grabbed his watch from where he had left it on the dresser, and stopped short in front of the middle drawer, where he put everything he didn’t want to see. 

The drawer of emotional baggage, as Mor liked to call it. 

He pulled it open, grabbing the only picture frame inside and turned it around. The faces staring back at him were full of love and joy, and unsuspecting of what was going to happen in just a few weeks. 

You were unsuspecting, said a small voice. She wasn’t. 

Shaking his head, he put the frame back inside, face down, and closed the drawer. He wasn’t ready to unpack that just yet. 

Heading to their meeting place, he saw Mor, sunglasses on, soaking the sun. Sunshine was the only way he could describe her, though she become vicious to protect what was hers. 

“Hey stranger,” she said, hugging him. “Long time no see.”

He raised an eyebrow, only turning his attention away from her to order a coffee. “You saw me yesterday.”

“That is an awfully long time. How did you manage to get through the last 24 hours without me?”

“By getting many things done, since I didn’t have you to annoy me.”

“Oh, Rhysie,” she pouted at him mockingly, lowering her sunglasses to give him her best impression of a hurt puppy. “You and I both know that is not true. Anyway, there is a reason I called you here.”

Rhys had been aware of that the moment she had messaged him. “Color me surprised.”

“So, you know how the reunion will be a revival of our prom, right? And everything has to be perfect.”

Rhys nodded. “Yes, the perfect part of it is an especially fitting revival of my experience with prom night.”

Mor conveniently chose to ignore him. “Yes, anyway, we need outfits.”

“Really? We need outfits? You want me to believe you waited until the day before to choose one?”

Waving him off, Mor went on. “There’s this new atelier I’ve seen with these amazing dresses, they’re so perfect you wouldn’t believe. Come with me? Please?”

He considered it for a second. He truly had nothing else to do with his time. He was not looking forward to locking himself home, and Az and Cass weren't going to arrive for another couple of hours. He certainly didn’t miss this town enough to go for a stroll. Nodding, he finished his coffee and paid for his and Mor’s drinks, tipping the waiter generously. 

An hour later, he found himself sitting on a brown chair, in an atelier decorated in every shade of cream known to mankind, with pops of earthy tones here and there.

Mor was twirling in front of a floor to ceiling mirror, examining her red gown. “What do you think?”

He thought he could feel an approaching headache but wisely kept that to himself. “I think you look beautiful-”

He never got to finish that sentence as the front door opened, revealing a man with long red hair tied in a low ponytail and a familiar pair of russet eyes. “Rhys?”

Rhys stood, smiling slightly. “Hello Lucien.”

Rhys and Lucien had shared the same space several times over the past few years but never went beyond a casual exchange of greetings. Rhys had known Lucien almost his entire life but wasn’t sure where they stood after what happened in high school. He had the feeling Lucien felt the same way. 

Lucien greeted Mor; Rhys wasn’t sure if they had met each other in the years since. Pleasantries and small talk were exchanged, Lucien helping Mor find a gown for the reunion and Mor in turn telling Lucien how Rhys didn’t have a proper suit for it. 

A total lie, of course. He had plenty of suits. He just didn’t have one fancy enough to meet Mor’s standards. He also wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of going to the reunion but wisely kept that to himself as well. 

“Oh yes. I have just the thing for Rhys.”

He looked at them at the sound of his name. “What?”

Mor grabbed his hand, following Lucien into the private area of the atelier and dragging him behind her.

“This is where I keep my one of a kind works. Things that are single pieces, sometimes inspired by certain people, the designs of which are shredded after they’re brought to life. Consider this a peek into my midnight creations.”

Mor looked like a child on Christmas Eve. “Holy shit Lucien, this is amazing.”

Lucien smiled at that. “Thank you. These two pieces are my last creations. We finished them yesterday. This,” he said, placing his hands on the sides of a mannequin, “screams your name, Rhys.”

The tuxedo he was looking at was a black so dark it looked depthless. It was easily the most beautiful piece of clothing he had seen, and he had grown up with Mor. The lapels were ever changing, depending on the angle you looked at the suit from—from the front, a shimmery black and from the sides, a striking silver. The same detail was applied to the bottom edge of the jacket and the edges of the sleeves. The pants were the same depthless black with black satin stripes, but without the silver lining. 

Next to the suit was a nearly translucent gray sleeveless gown bedecked in crystals, giving the appearance of a turtleneck while having a very revealing backside, and a high slit on the left side. Both pieces complimented each other in a way Rhys could not explain. 

Like the dress was the stars to the tuxedo’s night.

The words were out of his mouth before he could reconsider it. “I’m getting it.”

Lucien’s smile rivaled the Cheshire Cat. “It’ll be delivered to your place later today. Are you staying at the house?”

Rhys nodded. “It’s just for a day, and the house is empty anyway. Might as well put it to good use.”

Lucien nodded, then his expression turned thoughtful. “Rhys, there’s something you should know about Feyre.”

Rhys froze at the sound of her name. He couldn’t remember the last time he had heard someone say it out loud, his friends walking on eggshells around him when it came to her. “What about her?” he asked cautiously.

Lucien grimaced. “You might want to sit down for this.”

He did as was told, making himself as comfortable as he could, all things considered. Mor did not look curious at all, and he filed away that bit of information to reassess it later. 

“So back when we were in high school, you got approached by several Ivys thanks to your perfect academic record. And we were all happy for you, Feyre more than anyone. But then she broke up with you, telling you that she didn’t see a future for the two of you after high school.”

“I remember,” he said, trying not to let his annoyance show. How could he forget?

“Well here’s the thing… Feyre did see a future after high school. She had always seen it, you were the love of her life, but one day she overheard you tell Cassian and Azriel that you were going to turn down every Ivy, that you would instead stay here, and go to community college with her. She could not accept that, refused to let you sacrifice your education and future and be tied down to her. So she broke up with you.”

Rhys had stopped breathing about three sentences ago. 

When he didn’t respond, Lucien continued, “You didn’t understand where it was coming from, so you didn’t give up, and so on prom night, Feyre came without a date. She knew you’d go to her, try and patch things up. So she called in a favor with Tamlin, aware of the animosity between the two of you, of course. And when she saw you approaching her, she kissed him, giving you the impression she was leaving you for him.”

The silence in his head was deafening, and had he been standing, he was sure his knees would have given out. “What are you saying?” he half whispered, scared of saying anything more. 

Lucien looked at him sympathetically. “I’m saying it was all a ruse, Rhys. Feyre wanted you out of this town, somewhere new, where you could get a proper education, where you wouldn’t be forced to spend the rest of your days with her and not experience the world outside this town.” He gestured around. “She never stopped loving you. She still loves you. And she will never forgive me for breaking her trust but I cannot keep quiet on this anymore. It’s not fair to either of you.”

Mor hadn’t uttered a single word so far, yet when Rhys looked at her, she didn’t seem surprised.  “You knew?” he said. 

“Yes.” She sighed. “Lucien and I met a couple of months ago when I walked in here, needing a dress. We sat down for lunch, we talked about life in general, then we talked about you and Feyre, and he told me the whole thing. That’s when we planned the reunion—Lucien has been planning it with me the whole time. But Rhys,” she said, grabbing his hand, “I couldn’t tell you, that had to come from Lucien.”

Rhys nodded, more on autopilot than anything else. “So what now?”

“Now it’s up to you.” Lucien said, smiling. “I will not tell Feyre we met. As far as she knows, we haven’t seen or spoken to each other in years. She’ll come to the reunion tomorrow, and you can do with the truth as you see fit. But I’m done seeing her hate herself every moment of every day.”

Rhys nodded again, the only thing he could do at the moment. He did not know what to do with himself,  his thoughts, or his feelings. He paid for the tux, thanked Lucien, and headed home in a daze.

The moment he was back in his old bedroom again, he opened the drawer and pulled the picture frame from earlier, looking at his younger self and Feyre. He had his arms wrapped around her from behind, his chin resting on her head. Feyre’s smile was contagious, her eyes bright with the kind of starlight that had made him fall in love with her in the first place. 

Years. They had lost years because she had made a decision alone for both of them, had thought she knew what it was he needed and wanted. He had only ever wanted her. He didn’t know which emotion to feel first—he was angry she had taken this from them, disappointed she had not trusted him to know what he was doing, relieved she still loved him. His beautiful, stubborn girl had put him above her own feelings and needs, wrecking not only him but also herself in the process. 

There was a new ache in his heart, born of heartbreak and something else, something he recognized as very fragile hope. She still loved him, and God knew he had never stopped loving her. But would that be enough to put the past ten years behind them and start over?

Smiling fondly at the happy teenagers they had been, he decided the frame was not going to go to the drawer of emotional baggage anymore. He found a spot on his dresser and placed the frame there, a reminder of what they could have if he survived the anxiety that had been tormenting him for the past several hours. 

He could only hope this didn’t backfire on him. 

He arrived with Mor the next day, already finding a small group of people present. Mor—and he guessed Lucien—had decided the party was going to be held at their high school’s gym, where the original prom had been. 

It was weird being back. Everything reminded him of Feyre, the places they had laughed, the ones where they had kissed a hundred times, the ones where they had fucked each other senseless, the places where they’d made so many plans for the future. He was trying to keep an open mind. Feyre would come, he would see her, approach her, gently start small talk with her, stilted as that was going to be, and then he’d tell her he knew her secret. 

He felt like he was going to be sick. 

“Relax,” Mor whispered next to him. “She’ll come, and you’ll talk, and then you’ll see where that takes you. One step at a time. I’ll approach her first and then you can gently ease your way into the conversation.”

He nodded, physically present but mentally elsewhere. 

He hadn’t told Cass and Az yet. He needed to talk to Feyre first before he told anyone else. Needed to hear her side of the story, and where her mind had been at when she stole a decision from him. 

“She’s here.”

He nodded, hearing Mor leave and resisting the urge to look in their direction, lest his feet start walking of their own accord and take him to Feyre. He counted to one hundred, then repeated the process one more time before taking a deep breath, squaring his shoulders, and turning around. 

What he saw took his breath away, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to kiss or kill Lucien. 

Feyre was wearing the dress from Lucien’s private collection, the one he had looked at and admired the previous day, the one next to his tuxedo. 

The stars to his night. 

He took in the expanse of her back, the back of the dress open to the base of her spine, dimples showing. He took in her arms, arms that had previously been too thin and were now toned. She wasn’t skinny and malnourished anymore. The person standing a few feet away from him was healthy, clearly worked out regularly, and had sunkissed skin. 

He cleared out his mind, repeating his personal mantra for the day. 

Be normal. Don’t freak out. It will be okay. 

He caught the end of their conversation about her dress and added “One of a kind, if Lucien is to be believed. Inspired by the very person wearing it.” 

He saw her freeze, taking small breaths she thought no one could notice. 

“Hello, Feyre darling.”

He could mentally kick himself for using his old term of endearment, knowing it probably brought back too many memories, but at the moment he also couldn’t give a fuck. 

Mor said something about him being dramatic but Rhys wasn’t listening. He could smell Feyre from the small distance between them, and the familiarity of the scent left a lump in his throat. She had always smelled of lilac. 

She turned around, her gray blue eyes meeting his, sparkling like stars, but with a faint something else that he couldn’t place, like melancholy but not quite. 

Her eyes felt like coming home. 

He catalogued every detail, every inch of her, starting from the way her hair spilled down in curls, to the red lips that made him want to kiss her, to the dress, to that damned dress, clinging to her so perfectly, like it was made for her and only her, which he supposed it was. 

Lucien, that sly fox, had known exactly what he was doing when he sold Rhys that tuxedo yesterday. 

His eyes traveled down, down to that slit, her long leg showing. He shoved down his rising lust, more than aware the chances of anything happening tonight were slim to none. 

Despite everything, looking at her now, he knew he loved her still, with the kind of madness that threatened to consume him entirely. 

He tried to make small talk, but all he could think of was the last time he had freely touched her, held her. She was nervous, he could tell. He could still read her like an open book. 

Could she hear his heart pounding, threatening to leap out of his chest, just so it could run to hers? Could she see how she still affected him, with her eyes, and the hair he longed to touch, and that stupid dress that had been brought to life just for her.

She asked him if he had come alone, and just because there was a part of him that needed to see that she still cared, he said “No.”

Her answer came simply in the form of an “Oh” so small and quiet he would have missed it had he not been attuned to her voice. Oddly happy to see her so obviously upset, he quickly put her out of her misery by telling her he came with his friends. 

Unexpectedly, she blurted “I’m sorry but why are you being so friendly to me? We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

He cocked his head to one side. So they were doing this? Alright then . He tried to come up with the most neutral answer he could think of. “We’re adults. I thought we could both put the past behind us, especially one with a plan as well thought out as yours.”

Feyre blinked in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He smirked, and she looked like she was… relieved? Like the idea of him smirking was something she took great comfort in. “That little plan of yours back when we were eighteen. Break up with me and have me catch you kissing Tamlin.”

She paled, her face losing several shades of color, and for a moment he thought she was going to be sick. Perhaps being direct had been the wrong move.

“Rhys, I-”

“To be fair, I’m mad at you,” he said, interrupting her. “Livid doesn’t even begin to describe it. But I’m trying to think rationally here and give you the benefit of the doubt. So, Feyre. We need to talk.”

#feysandweek2023 #feysand #feyre #feyre archeron #rhysand #rhys #pro feyre #pro rhys #pro feysand #this love is alive back from the dead #feysand fanfic #feysand fic #acotar #modern au

[owliellder]

Music Recs (for writing)

I thought it would be fun to make a post of the type of music I listen to when I'm writing while also providing music recommendations cause i love finding new music myself. obviously I'll add more as I go along

I use music to help with feelings (like angst, love, fluff, etc) since I struggle conveying those naturally and I only really use apple music because spotify has always evaded me, so I'm literally just going to write each song and then link it on youtube 😭

also heads up, my music taste is EVERYWHERE so there is no rhyme or reason to any of this

Fluff/Happy Mix:

Fall On Me by R.E.M.

Fresh by Daft Punk

Keep Feeling Fascination by The Human League

Around and Around by John Denver

Sultans of Swing by Dire Straits

Feel It All Around by Washed Out (don't mind me, just adding Washed Out's entire discography here)

You'll See It by Washed Out

Angst:

Veridis Quo by Daft Punk

Face to Face by Daft Punk

Wicked Game by Chris Isaak

It's Raining Again by Supertramp

Take The Long Way Home by Supertramp

Eyes Without a Face by Billy Idol

Goodbye Again by John Denver

Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve (this is a very specific type of angst I feel)

Belong by Washed Out

Phone Call by Washed Out (this version of the song can only be found on youtube)

You and I by Washed out (again, this specific version is only on youtube)

Clap Intro by Washed Out

What Once Was by Hers

Just Wait Til Next Year by John Maus

Sprawling Idiot Effigy by Nero's Day at Disneyland (I do not suggest you listen to this one unless experimental music is your thing cause I tend to listen to Nero's Day at Disneyland when I am too under-stimulated to write)

(In) Love:

Love Story (Instrumental) by Lana Del Ray (I put this on loop for hours it's such a beautiful instrumental)

Digital Love by Daft Punk

Cheri Cheri Lady by Modern Talking

There Is a Light That Never Goes Out by The Smiths

Linger by The Cranberries

Annie's Song by John Denver

The ENTIRE Paracosm album by Washed Out (trust me on this one it all flows as one song)

Eyes Be Closed by Washed Out

Amor Fati by Washed Out

Everything in You by Adventure Time (ft Half Shy) (the Fionna and Cake series ruined me)

Nights in White Satin by The Moody Blues, London Festival Orchestra

Baby I'm Yours by Cass Elliot

Stay by Oingo Boingo

Spice 😈:

not a lot of this yet since i tend to listen to my BG music when writing smut

Lose Yourself to Dance by Daft Punk

Make Love by Daft Punk

Hurt/Comfort:

Something About Us by Daft Punk

Instant Crush by Daft Punk (ft. Julian Casablancas) (I really like Daft Punk)

Why (12" Version) by Carly Simon

Gypsy by Fleetwood Mac

Dreams by Fleetwood Mac

Back Home Again by John Denver

Poems, Prayers, and Promises by John Denver (I also really like John Denver)

Kids by MGMT

The Ghost Inside by Broken Bells

Andromeda by Weyes Blood

Luck by Washed Out

Far Away by Washed Out

Fly Away by John Denver

General Scene Building/BG:

now this is my favorite part since these are what I use most often when writing. you can pick out obvious tone indicators here in the titles 😭

a way i've learned to tap into certain feelings for when i'm writing is by using my own feelings on personal experiences, so a lot of these playlists i'm linking I have a lot of personal connection to (also because they're all so damn specific)

you're inside the last memories of a dying person (playlist) by nobody

you're an astronaut lost in space (playlist) by nobody

i feel like i've been here before (playlist) by nobody

|| nobody here || Silent Hill fog core playlist by Armand Tormo

February 22, 2001 - A liminal playlist by Dan

recalling moments of a christmas that never happened (playlist) by nobody

you're visiting the grave of an old friend while remembering the moments you spent together (playlist) by nobody

you found a place where spring is eternal (playlist) by nobody

you're staring at the ceiling while creating romanticized stories in your head (playlist) by nobody

you're walking under the golden trees watching the melancholic leaves dancing in the air (playlist) by nobody

Lost in the Poolrooms (a visual vaporwave mix) by K1K1n

Music for Vibin' on Jupiter's Hydrogen Sea (vaporwave mix) by olimar124

Unknown Songs (Lost Media Comp.) by Christopher Cherigo (one of my hyperfixations is unknown songs lololol)

[fullofgutsndopamine]

Feels So Nice (Smile like you’re hiding something)

TW: cursing, mention of fake blood, halloween decorations

this is a halloween fic im very aware it’s april

“this place looks pretty haunted.”

you peak at your side and see your little sister, dressed in an old bedsheet with crooked eyes for a ghost.

you pull the sheet back, constantly falling in her face, before you adjust it, crouching onto the hard cement.

the holes in your jeans are met with the wet cement and you’re thinking how you have to wear these stupid jeans to work tomorrow but your sister insisted you dressed up and how could you say no to those eyes?

“Cass,” You say gently, “i’d never let anything bad happen to you.”

she looks unconvinced, biting her lip and shifting her weight from one foot to the other to see over your head, where the thing that’s stressing her out stands in the mouth of their garage, handing out candy.

even a few houses down you can hear the ominous music that plays loudly from a hidden speaker some sort of circus music that cuts off every few minutes with a maniacal laugh and a chainsaw revving up.

the homeowner also changed every light on their front yard to a dark blood red floodlight, fog pours out of the garage and floats around the edge of the grass inviting you to come in, to take your chances, to see what happens.

“Honey,” you bring her back quietly, “we don’t have to go. We can go to the Anderson’s-“

Cassie huffs, “No that house is for babies!”

you hold in the sigh that’s threatening to escape from your lips, instead: “That use to be your favorite house.”

“Yeah,” she rolls her eyes through the sheet, “when i was seven. i’m older now-i’m not a baby.”

you swallow down the part of you that wants to remind her that she slept in your twin size bed last night because she thought she heard a noise and her head immediately went to a ghost.

“let’s go.”

she takes a step before freezing, offering her hand:

“i can hold your hand,” she says instead, “if you’re scared.”

finally, there’s the kid sister of yours you remember.

“Good,” you say and your voice is only slightly dripping with sarcasm, “I was scared.”

it’s a short walk to the house in question, but the winding driveway makes it seem bigger. thr wrap around porch doesn’t help instead.

as you get closer, you see him.

you know of him, of course. fucking everyone does-

he’s a small town hero (or menace, depending on who you ask) talked about in low whispers when you pay your overdue water bill at town hall with a. check that bounces only 40% of the time.

cindy, the clerk, will take the check, typing on the computer slowly as she gives you the tea. you’ve never been infested in the meetings, but you can hear the noise form inside even if the doors are shut.

“that’s hasan,” cindy will roll her eyes. “he hates this town.” shell slide the receipt back to you, “think half his fun is raising hell at board meetings though.”

He sits in a rocking chair, slowly slowly slowly rocking back and forth, a large box of kind sized candy bars on his lap, a smirk on his face. he wears large rimmed glasses and he’s smiling as you approach, using his knuckles to push his glasses up his face.

as you get closer, cass slides next to your body, making you run into her with every step. by the time you get to the porch, ready for the magic sentence, she’s fully behind your leg.

“Sorry-“ you apologize and you aren’t sure why you’re apologizing, it just seems like you should be

instead of seeming irritated, or rolling his eyes at you, or talking about the line that will eventually form now that news is getting out about the full size candy he instead sets the bowl on the ground, slides off the chair and crouches on the floor, as if trying to make himself smaller.

“My names Hasan,” he says gently, “what’s your name?”

right on cue the chainsaws rev up and he rolls his eyes, fumbles for his phone and pauses the music, holds his hands up like it’s a magic trick:

“Sorry. see,” he says gently, “it’s just music.”

her head pops out from behind your leg but her tiny fingernails dig into your legs and you know she isn’t full convinced.

her eyes are full on him and it’s like he suddenly remembers the wife beater he wears, the fake blood that covers his shirt and even his glasses-

he takes his glasses off, the world is blurry:

“This is fake too,” he says gently, “feel it. It’s sticky. it’s corn syrup.”

you’re about to insist he doesn’t have to do all this, when she hesitantly pops out from your leg, her hand going towards his glasses

he giggles as she swiped her finger on the lens:

“see,” he laughs, “it’ll dye your finger red. it’s all fake.”

he takes some and swipes it on her face, some that was revealed from the sheet falling again and suddenly she’s laughing.

“thatta girl,” he coos, “here.”

he turns around and hands her the box that she gasps at and slowly picks at.

his eyes pop to you and his face is pink, even with the lights on and the fake blood you can see he’s embarrassed

“sorry uh,” he scratches the back of his head as if he’s embarrassed now. standing at his full height, he towers over you and seeing him being embarrassed makes you smile harder, “didn’t think uh-the blood was that good.”

you snort, “for an eight year old? terrifying.”

he laughs back, “Yeah. i guess i didn’t account for kids.”

“halloween and kids,” you tease, “who would’ve thought?”

he laughs, but it’s small and he stares at his feet,

“sorry for uh-“ he shrugs, “all of that. Can i try again?”

you’re confused, but nod and his hand pops out in front of him, “It’s nice to meet you, my names Hasan. I’m your neighbor.”

cassie comes back into your side, a bag of m&ms in her fist.

you laugh, offer your hand and name back: “it’s nice to meet you, finally. you’re well known around here.”

he grips the metal bowl of candy, “hope it’s good.”

and he seems genuinely worried that you heard bad about him, heard the reputation, heard to stay away.

you don’t know this, you don’t know the parts that sit in the cul de sac with the engine running, his voice low and cracks as he reveals all about him, the fucked up parts too

“depends who you ask.”

and you think it’s a good enough answer, think it’s mysterious enough, but he seems worried by the answer.

“lemme make it up to you?” he says gently, “for scaring your kid. i owe you, right?”

“hasan,” you laugh as kids are giggling and running up behind you, “it’s halloween-“

“give me one try.”

you stare at him, the fake blood that drops, how he makes himself smaller, tried to make it less scary for her-

“okay,” you say gently, “okay. yeah. one chance.”

a smile spreads on his lips, “you won’t regret it.”

cassie pulls at your hand, and a new group of kids pile around hasan and you’re saying your goodbyes-

it isn’t until your three houses down that you realize you don’t have his number.

#caroline writes #hasan #hasanabi #hasanabi x reader #hasanabi x y/n #hasanabi x you #hasan piker fic #hasan piker ff #hasan piker fanfic #hasan piker fanfiction #hasan piker imagine #hasan piker x you #hasan piker x y/n #hasan piker x reader #hasan piker