#it's gotten mildly better than then but my head still FUCKING hurts

[sirowsky]

As promised, here comes the first of the Celebration Stories! My heartfelt thanks to @suttonspuds for this prompt, which was "Did you just kick my door down!?" & "You like my beard?"

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Warnings: Joel Miller x Reader, reader has no description or specified gender, mature themes, cursing, The Last of Us AU. Word Count: 920 Sirowsky's Masterlist

--Neighbors--

   “What the fuck…?” he barks as he walks through the broken door, eyeing it incredulously before he turns to you with anger quickly filling his frame. “Did you just kick my door down?!”

   You squirm slightly where you stand, further into the house, while you try and come up with a good excuse.    Despite his growing years, he can still make your adrenaline spike with his impressive glare and deep scowl.

   “You didn’t answer, so I…” you try, but he predictably doesn’t buy that.

   “So, you break my fucking house? What’s wrong with you?” he growls, walking closer, and even though you know that he won’t hurt you, your instinct is still to back away.

   You don’t, though.

   “I haven’t heard from you in weeks, I was worried,” you finally say, and it’s true. “You’re kinda ripe these days, so it’s not like it’s unthinkable that something might’ve happened.”

   His anger is mildly dampened by that, but he’s still not happy. Especially not at such a crude reminder that he’s no young stallion anymore.

   “Well, I’m still here, and I still gotta feed myself, which is why I was out hunting.    Would it have killed you to wait five goddamned minutes?” he grumbles, and you lower your gaze to the floor, evading the question.

   Because of course, you could’ve waited, but for some reason you’d felt extremely worried about him today, to the point where you’d ran the half mile between your house and his.    It seems silly now, but it had felt so overwhelmingly frightening at the time.

   “How the hell did you manage to break the damned thing anyway? You’re no youngster yourself, you know,” he complains, and you shrug, lifting your head again to watch as he picks up a few of the smaller pieces that had come loose when you’d assaulted the wood.

   “I guess I’ve just always been better than you at taking care of myself,” you mumble, and his eyebrows twitch slightly, but he doesn’t disagree.

   “You gonna stick around to help me fix it?” he asks then, and you relax, because you know that means that the argument is over.

   He’s been your closest neighbor for a few years now, and you’ve always had a good relationship, always helping each other and looking out for one another.    But you’ve also always argued.

   In the beginning, it had been pretty much on a weekly basis, because you’d struggled to learn the different sides of his character and how to talk to him in a constructive way.    And while it had gotten better, communication was still nowhere near his strongest trait.

   Also, things had gotten somewhat more complicated after you’d spent a night together about a year ago.    It’s developed into a friends-with-benefits sort of thing, more than any deeper affection, and you suspect that that’s about as much as he’s capable of giving anyone.    Which you’re perfectly fine with.

   The physical closeness is about comfort more than passion, and you’ve since spent many nights just sleeping next to each other, simply for the warmth of not being alone.    But you can tell from his tone that he’s asking for more than that today.

   “Be rude not to…” you answer with a small smile, which he reciprocates.

   “Thanks.”

   He brings his tools and together you fix the door in no time while idly chatting about the weather and the animals that you keep.    Conversation does occasionally get heavier between you, but that’s mostly late at night when you’ve had a drink or two. Work flows easier with lighter topics.

   “It’s getting about time to do something about that mop on your head,” you tease, keeping to the spirit of easy topics, and he huffs a laugh.

   “I was thinking I might grow it out, see how long it would stay curly,” he suggests, and you can’t really tell if he’s joking, so you just go with the first thing that comes to mind.

   “I don’t think your hair will ever be anything but curly. Which is good, cause I like it like that,” you smile at him while tightening a screw.

   “Yeah?” he asks, and you nod earnestly, which seems to spark his interest. “Do you like my beard?”

   He hasn’t bothered to shave much lately, probably because his right hand is causing him some trouble these days, so his beard is as wild as you’ve ever seen it.    It’s got little bald patches and still shifts between brown and grey, although the silver is winning that battle.

   “I like it a bit more tamed than this,” you chuckle, pinching a few strands between your fingertips and tugging gently, which makes him smile. “But yeah, I like it.”

   You’re all finished with the door just then, so he takes the screwdriver from your hand and puts it down on the kitchen table, before coming back to take your now empty hand and lead you to his bedroom.

   You stay the night, watching the northern lights dance across the sky through his bedroom window as you fall asleep.    And you think about how low the odds must’ve been that you’d not only survive the fungus, but come to live your best life in the aftermath of it all.

   Because while your life had seemed good before all that, it’s only now, after your bones have started aching and your energy drains too fast and you can never sleep enough, that you’ve finally learned what it is to have peace.    In both mind and heart.

<<<<<<<THE END>>>>>>>

Thank you for reading and if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging so that more people might find it <3

@tacticalsparkles @tanzthompson @sarahjkl82-blog @marydjarin @idreamofboobear @annathewitch @agingerindenial @tiffanyleen @winter-fox-queen @lovefreylove @elegantduckturtle @shadowolf993 @callsigncatfish @hounding-around @cannedsoupsucks @ellie-darling @startrekkingaroundasgard @likes-good-reblogs-even-better @thisshipwillsail316 @dihra-vesa @tobealostwanderer @ophelialoveshandsomemen @deadhumourist @tintinn16 @spideysimpossiblegirl @nolanell @toomanystoriessolittletime @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @bilibiche @harriedandharassed @shadesofnerdlygrace @hotchlover @little-mrs-morales @gallowsjoker @cosmicbreathe @criminalmind1927 @myfavpedrothings @spishsstuff @suttonspuds @sjdraws-00 @ezras-channel-rat @justnat15 @anditsmywholeheart @i-love-movies @insomniamamma @lowlights @thelion-sroar @herefordistractions @ellenmunn

#sirowsky's 500 followers celebration 🍾 #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x gn!reader #the last of us #hbo the last of us #hbo tlou

[callsign-bunnie]

demon Alex and angel Gaz. Mildly happier.

This is part 2 to this. Also, this is for Horror Night. (Thank you, babe, for the expressive ask. My wife, everybody)

--

The first thing the demon had done once they got back to his house was give Gaz tea with honey and milk. And vanilla, apparently. Gaz curled up on the couch he was set on, sipping it, and watching the demon move around.

Alex seemed to be looking for something. "You're about my height, so I'll give you some of my pants."

"You're still bigger than me." Gaz flushed, unsure how that was going to work out. They were the same height, but Alex was a bigger build. "You're different from the other demons..."

Alex shrugged. "We're not all horrible."

"Yeah, but... most of them wouldn't be able to rest taking an angel... Don't I tempt you?" He wasn't trying to goade Alex into anything, he was curious.

Alex looked over at him, his eyes flicking over Gaz. "No." He turned away.

Gaz didn't know why, but that stung. He looked down at his tea, frowning a little. He wanted the demon to like him, but he didn't know why.

He looked up when shorts were held out to him. "They're too small for me. I don't know why I've kept them."

Gaz nodded a little and set his tea to the side. He shimmied into the shorts, wincing a little from the pain. It was a cruel reminder of what had just happened and he found himself panicking a little again.

Alex gently touched his shoulder. "It's alright. You're safe. I won't harm you."

Gaz relaxed, unable to help trusting him. "Oh..." He looked away and sat back down, curling up. "My friends must be so worried... I'll be coming back with a demon, too..."

Alex seemed to look awkward. He hesitated before sitting beside Gaz, though keeping his distance. Gaz tilted his head, finally noticing Alex's wings, folded neatly at his back.

Oh. Alex was a born demon, not a made demon. Only they had wings. Explained a few things. They tended to have a lot more control over themselves and weren't so aggressive.

They were black with a slight red shine to them, the feathers looking well taken care of. They looked similar to raven wings. Alex seemed to notice him staring and fluttered them a little. He smiled, clearly taking a little pride in them.

Gaz flushed at being noticed and looked away, shy. He yawned and curled up into the couch. "Where can I sleep?"

"Oh, take my bed, I'll sleep on the couch." Alex shrugged. "It's down the hall."

Gaz hesitated. "You sure?"

"Of course."

Gaz shrugged and got up, wobbling a little on his legs. Walking kind of hurt but he was determined. He went to the bedroom, climbing into the bed.

As soon as he was laying down, everything crashed back into him and he teared up, trembling again. The panic took over and he pulled the blanket over his head, taking deep breaths to try to stay calm.

It didn't work. He curled up tightly and started to cry, the feeling of violation returning. He felt so stupid. He'd done what he wasn't supposed to and he'd gotten caught and hurt for it.

Rudy and Soap would be so disappointed... He was so fucking stupid! He hit his head, lightly, and sobbed a little.

It took a while, but he eventually managed to kind of sleep. It was restless and filled with nightmares, but it was better than nothing. When he woke up, Alex gave him some food and he ate it, gratefully.

"Are you ready to go?" Alex asked, smiling a little, when he was done.

Gaz hesitated. He kind of wanted to stay with Alex but... he didn't think that was an option. It'd be nice, though. He nodded a little and got up. Thankfully, most of the pain had faded, though he still had burns on his wrists and ankles. "Thank you for saving me..."

"You don't have to thank me. It was the right thing to do." Alex shrugged.

"You're a demon, though. I'm an angel." Gaz frowned, Alex really was odd. Even if he was a born demon, most would just cringe and walk away. Alex had killed the human and saved him.

Alex seemed to consider. "I would... have been angry if an angel had walked by me being violated and did nothing to stop it. You didn't deserve that. No one does."

Gaz just melted. He nodded a little. "I get it..." He really wanted to stay and get to know more about Alex. But... his friends were probably freaked out and he didn't think Alex would let him. So, he followed him out. He stuck very close to Alex.

Alex led him to a car and Gaz got in, being careful of his wings. The car was set up for wings in mind, thankfully, so he was fairly comfortable. "I've... heard more and more stories of demons taking our side in the wars... Why?"

"The humans... don't differentiate between demon and angel." Alex shrugged and sighed a little. "It's just human and nonhuman, anymore. Even the fae are being targeted."

"Oh..." Gaz frowned. "I... My friends and I... we don't really pay attention to any of it."

Alex shrugged. "I have to. I run rescue missions and aid."

"You do?" Gaz tilted his head. "I didn't know Demons do that..."

Alex smiled. "A lot of us do, now." He shrugged. When they finally made it to the "Garden" where Gaz lived, Gaz hesitated. He got out before relaxing when Alex did as well.

Gaz whistled, high and sweet. Almost immediately, he was attacked by a blur of angel and wings, hugging him tightly. "Where the fuck were you?!"

Alex seemed surprised at the language, looking at Gaz. Gaz smiled. "This is Soap." He explained before turning to his friend. "Where's Rudy?"

"Coming." Soap nodded. "He's not a fast flier like I- Gaz, watch out!" He shoved Gaz behind him, flicking his wrist and a long silver sword appearing.

Alex put his hands up in defense, eyes widening.

"Soap!" Gaz quickly said. "He's a friend! I was attacked by a human and he rescued me."

"He's a demon!" Soap looked at Gaz like he was crazy. "You were attacked?!"

"Yeah..." Gaz winced and looked down. "Anyway, he's a demon, yes, but he's a demon who saved me."

Soap looked at Alex, suspiciously, before shrugging and looking at Gaz. "Are you okay?"

Gaz hesitated before shrugging a little and looking down. Soap frowned and touched his face. "Gaz?"

"I'll be okay." Gaz nodded. "I... you two were right, I shouldn't have wandered."

Soap shook his head. "Come on. Rudy's been worried sick."

Gaz nodded a little and then looked at Alex, smiling a little. "Thank you, again..."

"You really don't have to thank me. But... I'm glad you got home safe." Alex nodded a little. He waved by to them and got in the car. Gaz hesitated. He hoped he'd see him again, eventually.

#bunnie's horror night #green #Kyle Gaz Garrick #Gaz Cod #Alex Keller #Alex COD #Gaz x Alex #Alex x Gaz #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare II #angel gaz cod #demon alex cod

[sylvaridreams]

CRACKS KNUCKLES. YOUR TURN. SQUARE UP FOR THE LOVE INTEREST ASK.

15 for peitha and stick with me here freestyle it... also 8. itll be funny i promise.

14 and 7 for rama :)

2 for Auruim

AAAAUCK YOU GOT ME... commander love interest ask game :)

Peitha 15. What's the commander's favorite quality in them?

Alba likes how effortlessly Peitha can take control away from him... sounds awful but it's something he needs, for someone to take the reigns away from him. and to be shoved around a bit and bitten. sexually. :)

also he thinks she's honest and open with him, which ehhhhh mostly. he likes having her in his head overall; even being in the same realm she still drops in on his mind all the time and just pokes around. Wayfinder over here talking to himself and giggling because his head demon said something funny.

8. What does Aurene think about them, and vice versa?

If Aurene were around she'd be looking at Peitha with one part "what the fuck Alba seriously" two parts "if you hurt him I'll make you regret coming to this realm" and three parts "....................what do demons taste like" In turn, Peitha would be mildly impressed, respectful that this is an elder dragon, and also wondering.... what does dragon taste like. JUST TWO GIRLS KILLING AND EATING EACH OTHER GRRR GRRRRRRR LET ME EAT HER FOR MY GIRLDINNER kind of vibe. and then they both shake hands/claws politely and smile and move on.

Rama 14. What is their favorite quality in the commander?

Alba can commit to a bit, but he also knows when to stop. Funny but relatively understanding of boundaries. More than that though Rama likes that he's kind of easy to trick; at some point Rama convinces him it's illegal for him to drink because of the legal drinking age in Cantha being 18 "for everyone, even sylvari." Fun and easy prank to pull on guy who ruined your job for you,(even though it's for the better,) never stops being funny.

7. What kind of dumb rumors pop up/would pop up about the relationship?

There'd be talk that Alba "stole" Rama from Min as a politically motivated move. A Tyrian, attempting to weaken MinSec by compromising the Minister's personal life, etc. Nevermind that all three parties involved can deny this being true. Funnily enough like, there's nothing romantic between him and Alba; they care about one another and they're good close friends but it's overall just a FWB situation... which coincided timing-wise with a loss of interest in Min. Just poor timing overall.

Auruim 2. How does the rest of Dragon's Watch feel about the relationship?

Vehement disapproval, for the most part. Most of Dragon's Watch knew Auruim for a short time before the breach of Maguuma, and they can remember what he was like then and see the contrast between who he is now. He's managed to butt heads pretty severely with all of them at some point since. I think Meisi and Bourbon are the only two Dragon's Watch members who genuinely like Auruim and make an effort to be around him or include him in anything without prompting.

Jory and Kas tried for a while, but Auruim's gotten mean with both of them, and neither appreciate that. I think Jory would be kind of catty and coldly rejecting around Auruim; Kas would be more likely to try to play nice and smooth things over, but later they'd both go home and kind of shake their heads about Alba and him. Like what IS the Commander doing...

Taimi is strongly opposed to Alba letting his guard down around Auru -- she spent a lot of time in the lab while Auruim and the other two mordrem were being "reformed" and saw a lot of his more vicious side come out back then, and it's cast her perception of him in a pretty permanently negative light. Gorrik avoids Auruim, full stop, after his initial meeting went south quickly. ("So back when you were mordrem, did you ever try to tame a chak?" As it turns out, not the thing to ask the guy who's really violent and sensitive and lashes out about being mordrem/not mordrem.)

Braham thinks he's a nuisance who needs to learn a few lessons. Rytlock thinks he's a nuisance and an overgrown cub who needs to learn a few lessons. 🤝 Neither think the Commander should waste his time, and both think nothing good is going to come of it. I think they're both kind of recalling Icebrood Saga from their own perspectives and waiting for something similar to go down with Auruim. Braham also still sees him as mordrem, which puts him at odds right from the start. Rytlock has an easier time seeing that he's at least ~reformed~ a little bit, however you want to measure it.

Caithe can recall Auruim well; she introduced him to Alba years ago, and she's mostly sad that he's become so angry and so violently emotional. She's admittedly tried to talk to Alba about not getting involved with Auruim romantically, or just not getting too close--some part of her worried that Auru will try to lead Alba down a path that Faolain tried to lead her down. At the time I don't think anything like that was even on the table between the two of them, and it was peacefully brushed off as nothing to worry about. With time, later on, Caithe is able to recognize that Auruim IS nothing to worry about after all; he's a sapling that's been forced to overgrow himself and change shape, but he's never emotionally matured past the phase he was at when he was blighted. She tries to be supportive.

Meisi (correct me if I'm wrong, Sage) is... weary of how Auruim acts sometimes, but I think he also kind of gets it; Auruim went through a lot of horrifying trauma: being blighted, then living on the other side of the warzone for years, then being forced to revert back to sylvari-hood very slowly, at an agonizing pace. He's able to see the sapling that he and Alba took under their wings in the Vigil, one of his old friends from before Everything, and he's also able to recognize what Auruim needs-- which is mostly freedom from societal expectations, which is why Meisi tends to take Auruim on fieldtrips that get him away from people to let him run around, tire himself out, and calm down. Supportive to a pretty good degree, but he's also able to play the stern older authority figure who puts his foot down and tells Auruim to behave himself, IF it's strictly necessary.

Bourbon thinks he's a good kid, but Bourbon also just has a hard time seeing the bad in people anymore. (Commander who killed your best friend? Nah son, free friend.) He got to see a side of Auruim that not everyone is privy to when Mawdrey was trying to kill them both, so HE thinks they've bonded. Supportive of whatever he and Alba are up to.

And then Canach is their third, lol. (Or Auruim is his and Alba's third? whatever.) In terms of his thoughts on just Alba and Auru, he's disapproving of how Auruim acts a lot of the time, and makes that clear to him as appropriate. He's the one to send Auruim on his quest to go through Alba's memories in the jungle and the desert, to help him build empathy with Alba, because he doesn't like the way Auruim treats him early on. He's also, in general, the type to step up and pull Auruim aside and correct other behavior. (Alba will too; they try to fill in one another's gaps there.) He loves Auruim; they weren't CLOSE or even very familiar beyond maybe vague recognition before Alba brought Auruim back from the lab, but Alba filled him in on a lot over the years, and he knew the old Auruim from those types of conversations. He cares about Auru and wants him to be okay and feel loved. 🫶he also thinks Alba lets him get away with a lot. He's really worried post-SotO when Auruim vanishes too. :( It's hard to have to assume two people you love deeply are dead.

#auruim #lorepositing #aurualba #peithalba #ramalba #asks answered

[calzonekestis]

I'm sorry you're getting anon hate for defending Grace, some people really love to waste their time Karen-ing on tumblr dot com 😐 I thought it might cheer you up to see something positive in your inbox so, I hope you have a lovely day/evening!

It’s sad and pathetic, but I don’t let it get to me. I turned anons off when they first started like back before Vol. 2 dropped, and I was Thinking it might be time to turn them on again but. Lmao.

People just legit have nothing better to do with their time, apparently. I’m so sorry to see that you’ve been dealing with more hate as well, which - ok, absolutely no one deserves that sort of crap, but pls know/don’t forget that there are tons of people who love seeing you on their dash and you bring them joy.

I absolutely love seeing the positivity and passion you have, and like with fix - you take the time to write it and share it and people like it and respond to it. That’s good, lovely, productive fandom. That’s fandom done right. More people should look to you as an example fwiw~

And like, ok, here’s an example; I’m someone who isn’t letting myself buy into the Kas theory personally. I don’t want to be disappointed if he doesn’t come back, and as sad as it would be if his end was truly the end… I’ve personally made peace with it/am ok with it. I would be mildly disappointed if the theory came true bc it wouldn’t really be Eddie for much of it. Like I’d love it for Joe, and him having a job lol, but it’d just be excruciating to watch if he wasn’t the character we loved for much of it…and if he ended up just dying again at the end… I’d be a wreck. Again. But that’s just me!

All that to say! I’m not big on such theories, and yet… I still love your blog? I don’t see it as “grr they have Different Opinions!” I see it as “an Eddie friend! That means Friend!“

Like. It’s that easy? People can enjoy the things they things mutually… mutually, and when the tastes diverge, just. Leave each other to it? No one’s hurting anyone, they’re having fun, why be a dick?

Like, despite not being big on the theory - I love seeing your speculations, and you and your mutuals going over his reactions in various interviews?

Like. Again, this should be an obvious thing to people and idk why it’s not - you don’t have to be on board with every single thing. Every Want for a character, every interpretation, every ship.

That does not make you My Enemy, and I (hope you know lol) nor does it make either of us “less of” a fan which. Again, is a bs way of going about fandom.

Taking ownership and gatekeeping from other fans. I used to be like that with the Marvel fandom like a decade back. I was a seventeen year old white boy who thought he was straight (lol) and didn’t know what to make of his Comfort thing becoming popular. I got over myself, grew the fuck up, and gained some perspective. I hope that the antis can do the same.

Like, yes, it’s annoying when a character you like is mischaracterized - but like. Just unfollow and move on, if it bothers you that much? And like I’m the case of Joe - when it’s the actor telling you how he went about his craft - what he had in his head and and how he played it… you’re gonna sit there and tell him he’s wrong?

It’s. Ridiculous. Or it would be, if it hadn’t gotten to this point.

There’s no reason to send a person hate, be they a fan or actor. For what purpose? To tell them that they’re wrong and stupid and don’t get a character like they do? Because you don’t they should enjoy a thing, because things can only be enjoyed in the way you yourself enjoy them? That makes things… very boring.

And if you’re so threatened by a person enjoying a thing, why is that?

And why do you feel the urge to try and make them feel bad about themselves, and get them to Go Away?

It all says more about them than it does us.

This has been a whole long tangent, for which I apologize, but. Thank you for the kind words, and right back at you.

#munsons-maiden #munsons maiden

[loverdude]

I have the WORST headache ever good god

#💭 #it was pretty bad even when i went to bed #and i got it again immediately every time i half-woke-up in the middle of the night #and now it's morning and for the first like 20 minutes after i woke up i like literally could not open my eyes #even the light peeking through the curtains was too bright WHILE my eyes were closed #had to put a hand or pillow or something over my closed eyes for it to be dark enough #it's gotten mildly better than then but my head still FUCKING hurts #i took ibuprofen i hope it helps T_T #i have to be in class right now... #PLUS IT'S ONE OF THOSE DAYS WHERE THERE'S REALLY WHITE SNOW EVERYWHERE AND IT'S SUPER FUCKING SUNNY #AND EVERYTHING IS BLINDING ANYWAY AUUUUGH

[writefightandflightclub]

I really enjoyed your Nathan fluff 🥺 we love this angry peach fuzz king 👑💖 would you ever write him being comforted after having a nightmare? 💕

First of all, LOL @ “angry peach fuzz king” 🤣🤣🤣

Second of all, here you go! 🧡 I will warn you - I think I forgot the fluff a little bit though. It became more hurt / comfort? More angst than expected? It ends nicely though and comfort is given to Nathan - but only after I’ve subjected him to rattling around in his own head and house for a bit.

Through the looking glass (Nathan Bateman x GN!reader)

Summary: Nathan has nightmares after The Incident. After so long alone, he doesn’t realise how badly he needs a little comfort - and maybe he doesn’t believe that he deserves it.

Author’s note: hopefully this isn’t too similar to All Better. I know they both take place post-stabbing, but I tried to give this a different focus. I know I could have made the nightmares based off of anything given the ask, but this timeline / focus seemed most sensible to explore the character.

Warnings: nightmares following traumatic incident (a stabbing); mentions of blood and injury - not graphic. Self-harm (punching the bag until injury); Body horror if you squint (some gruesome descriptions occurring in-dream, but fairly abstract); swearing; implied alcoholism recovery if you squint; mentions of therapy; Nathan mildly injured in fic; reader offering comfort.

Rating: MATURE for themes mentioned above.

GIF: by @santiagogarcia (this whole gifset is magic- check it out + reblog!)

Nathan wakes up breathless, plastered to the covers by a sheen of sweat - and not in a good way. On instinct, or out of habit by now, or maybe somewhere between the two, his palm slides over his body to the site of the wound.

He is so slick that he half-believes he is soaked with dank, deep blood again, until his fingers trace over nothing more than a half-concave, half-ridged scar. The lack of searing pain is the next point of evidence leading him towards an alternative conclusion. He’s not dying (again).

It’s just another gruesome nightmare.

Although… there is nothing “just” about it.

The nightmares are pretty brutal. Brutal enough for him to wake with ragged breaths and a hammering heart, his sheets dampened and coiled up around him. Enough that it takes effort to sift through the layers of terror and distinguish reality.

With what can only be described as a whimper, Nathan swings his legs over the edge of the bed, bringing himself into a seated position and bracing his head in his hands until his racing heart levels.

In his mind, he’s telling himself to be logical about this. That Ava hasn’t truly arrived to finish the job she started; but logic is not the safe haven it used to be.

She could come back.

She’s still out there, somewhere, and Nathan distinctly got the impression, last time, that she was vehemently not a fan of him.

His hand trembling, Nathan reaches for the glass of water by his bedside, glugging it down so eagerly it spills into his bushy beard.

Since the… accident? Malfunction? Functioning just fine, actually? Failed experiment? Greatest achievement known to man? Attempted murder? (Truth be told, Nathan isn’t quite sure what to call it, so he simply calls it The Incident.)

Since The Incident, Ava has begun to regularly visit him in his sleep.

The visitations are not waning with time. In fact, they are happening more often, not less. They are happening more since you moved into the house.

It’s a bad fucking time to have quit drinking.

You’d been sent by the board. Something about Nathan taking “tortured genius” a slice too literally. Something about him being in isolation too long and needing another human around in the compound.

Well, that’s not technically true, is it? The shit all started when he opted to get social, after all.

Fucking Caleb.

Before that, he was doing just fine.

Nathan doesn’t like it at all - having you here. Being watched. Observed. Having someone monitoring his actions. Waiting for him to either fuck up or prove himself.

Ironic really, considering where he kept Ava. The experiments he ran on her.

She’d probably find it poetic, if she could truly understand such a concept.

At the thought of her, Nathan physically shudders, and reaches for an old vest to haphazardly mop the excess sweat from his skin. Then, he balls up a change of clothes and tracks nude to his wet room, feeling relief as the luke warm water sluices over his skin.

He watches himself in the mirror as he stands there naked. It’s not a vanity thing - at least not any longer. These days, he examines the way his form has changed since it happened. He lost some of his muscle and bulk during recovery, whilst unable to exercise, his arms slightly smaller and his abs softer. His stomach a little more rounded.

There’s also the puckered scar, of course - that permanent reminder of where he was skewered through the chest like a piece of kebab meat.

His gaze travels up over his body, until his eyes settle on his still haunted face. He doesn’t have his glasses on, and somewhere between the blurred vision, misted mirror, clouding steam and sluicing water, his reflected face distorts. It transforms - for the briefest of moments - into her.

Still amped with adrenalin from his harsh awakening, this briefest flash sends a surge of panic zipping through Nathan’s chest, his heartbeat racing so hard he can feel the pounding of blood in his ears.

Fuck, he curses, reaching his arms out to brace himself against the shower wall above him, his body trembling and his head dipping down between the cradle of his broad shoulders as his legs threaten to buckle.

He turns the water cold, until it is practically glacial and thundering on to the back of his neck, subduing this spiking heat.

She really did a fucking number on me, didn’t she?

It’s true though.

Ava is haunting him. When he sleeps - and at other times too.

Nathan didn’t know robots could do that. Didn’t know they could spawn ghosts.

Nathan doesn’t believe in ghosts, of course… but he does believe in trauma and its effect on the brain. He at least concedes that it is natural to continue to feel afraid; but this?

Being dogged by the spectre of her taps into Nathan’s deepest insecurities.

After all, there is nothing a genius fears more than doubting his own mind.

Nothing a God fears more than his own mortality.

And the man? Turns out, there is nothing he fears more now, than dying alone.

With a ragged breath, Nathan towels off and pulls on his grey sweatpants, tugging on his black zip-up hoody over his bare chest. And then, keen not to return to his damp, tangled sheets, he tracks towards the kitchen - mainly for want of any more favourable option.

Of course, he had returned to the compound after The Incident. Something about that many fibre optic cables being a bitch to lay down. Sunk cost fallacy and all that - too much already invested.

But it possibly wasn’t the best choice for his recovery.

Nathan has certainly gotten more used to walking down that hallway since he returned from the hospital, and yet he still finds himself holding his breath until he is free of it. Still finds his pace is just a little faster as he passes through. His gaze deliberately averted from that spot.

Once, you’d found him lying in it.

Lying in that exact spot, his body arranged like a crime scene photo, his eyes closed.

Hey, it’s hardly his least healthy coping mechanism, is it?

What in the fuck are you doing, Nathan?

Re-enacting my death, obviously.

Uh-Kay…. A beat. A devious smile. Shall I get some popcorn?

Absurd as it was, he had laughed. Laughed for the first time since it happened, and, with an extended hand, you had helped him up off the floor.

Still, now that he’s alone, he does not dwell in the corridor, colder and darker as it is without your light in it, and he tries not to think about your face or hers as he pads to the kitchen.

When he arrives though, he bypasses it entirely - heading out on to the decking, the crisp night air soothing his hot skin.

He wants to be outside.

There are too many ghosts in his house now.

He has tried to shake it. Tried to desensitise himself to Ava’s face. Spent longer than strictly necessary poring over footage of her.

He built her. Shouldn’t that take the fear out of things? Not to mention the fact Ava’s face was simply a composite of some manipulable nerd’s wank bank browsing history.

Fucking Caleb.

Still, once Nathan had looked her in the eyes and seen a rage that was all too human, things seemed a hell of a lot different.

Nathan crosses to the punchbag on the deck -lit by creeping dawn- on instinct, or out of habit, or maybe some combination of the two, his unease riling him enough to sock some punches at its midsection. Right at the equivalent site of his corporeal puncture.

He punches so hard that the skin on his knuckle splits, but Nathan doesn’t stop. He throws punch after punch until his hands are scathed and bloodied, and a trail of spit hanging from the corner of his mouth. Until he hugs the bag - the closest thing he has to a warm body to hold - and slides down it, coming limply to his knees, wiping his face on his sleeve.

He stays there, dead eyed and still for some time, the pain in his hands raw and singing. Unpleasant, but better. Better than what he was feeling, and worse all at once.

He considers his tired, cumbersome body, and contemplates remaking the world one more time. Uploading his mind into a machine or some shit, so that he doesn’t have to contend with the fragility and failings of his own existence.

He stays there, until some motion in the interior of the compound causes the light and shadows to dance differently over him, and he looks up to see your figure there, cast in a soft halo of yellowed light.

He tips his head up slightly, opening his mouth as though he might cry out to you for help, but no sound comes out - only a thin, dry croak.

So, instead, Nathan watches you for a moment, moving seamlessly around his kitchen as though it is your own. Maybe it is - more yours than his now.

Observing you like this, through the tall, cinematic windows, it is as though he peers in on another world entirely. Something less resembling a nightmare.

Lighter than that. Something more like a good dream, albeit a good dream that Nathan cannot be part of. One he can only ever watch, from the outside looking in, always fated as he is to be on the other side of the glass.

Truth be told, you haunt him too. You represent everything he could have and yet doesn’t deserve.

You appear in his nightmares and his dreams, in various terrifying and beautiful incarnations. Many variations of which his therapist would have a field day with, he’s sure - or, she would, if he’d ever fucking call her.

When you first arrived here, he was plagued by grotesque visions of you. Grotesque visions of the skin being peeled back from your body. Sometimes, circuitry beneath, and other times, muscle and bone. Sometimes, Ava’s face was buried beneath the chilling slip of your fleshy mask.

Sometimes it is a better dream. Sometimes you save him. Sometimes he saves you.

Sometimes it is a good dream. Ava isn’t there at all. But the good dreams never seem to last for long. 

Sometimes you kill him, and sometimes...

The glass door slides open.

“Reenacting your own death again, are you?” you tease, though not unkindly, interrupting the spiral of Nathan’s incessant thoughts.

A lump forming instantly in his throat, Nathan swallows thickly, and looks up at you helplessly with a thin, joyless smile. He snorts as though it’s funny, but it really isn’t. “Over and fucking over.” 

You nod once, and, without hesitation, you extend your hand towards him. Your gaze cuts through him as you search his face and he feels suddenly see-through, as if he’s about to be hit with some Shyamalan-esque twist. Was he the ghost all along? Did he die here after all?

If so, is this purgatory because Ava is here too, or heaven, because you are?

Christ. So fucking schmaltzy, Bateman.

After hesitating, Nathan takes your hand and you yank him to his feet, drawing him inside, through the looking glass.

The room seems warm on the other side. It feels… safe.

“What happened?” you ask, as you look down at your joined hands, your thumb painting a smear of red across his split knuckles. 

You mean now. What happened now, but Nathan’s mind harks back further than that. In his mind, everything is connected. Every thing threaded to another. This one smear of blood to that weeping flower of red.

The thought -the thoughts, all of them- halt him in place, his feet firmly planting on the ground. Nathan’s hand clenches tightly around yours as though it is a lifeline, as he is cast adrift on this familiar crimson tide, his face growing increasingly angular and stern.

“She...” He swallows, unable to complete that precise thought, his eyes dropping down to his feet.

You turn your body towards Nathan as he croaks, still not letting go.

Your eyes flitting around his face, attempting to search his eyes, you tentatively step closer, sliding your palms slowly over his tense shoulders, feeling them rise with an uneven, stuttered breath as you do so.

He’s so tired. He’s so very, very tired.

And it happens all at once on the exhale.

Suddenly, your arms are tugging him closer, and his face is contorting as a violent smattering of tears beads in his long lashes. You are encasing his body in your embrace and rubbing circles into his back as his buzzed head sags all too willingly toward the junction of your shoulder, your fingers splaying along the smooth flesh at the nape of his neck and pads dancing over the gentle prickle of his hair. You are shushing and soothing and reassuring and squeezing and smoothing and cradling and Nathan can feel it. Can feel his heart race in his chest and…

Finally.

Finally, his heart is not pounding because he is reliving his death.

It is pounding because he feels alive again.

When was the last time he cried, even? The last time someone really hugged him? He doesn’t remember the last time. The serendipitous combination of Nathan willing to be vulnerable, and another being willing to hold space for his pain is an all too rare thing.

There’s a reason -or several - he’s so emotionally constipated, after all.

Fuck. I’m taking a huge emotional shit right now.

Nathan remains in the welcome circumference of your arms longer than is strictly necessary - until the tear trails over the bridge of his nose begin to feel cloying. Until his breaths steady, and until his thoughts and ego creep back in. Until he notices the way his hands are clasped at your waist like claws, fingers sinking into your softness, and he thinks to release you.

Then, he leans away, a weight on his brow making his expression stern.

He waits for you to judge him, another swallow trailing thickly down his throat.

However, your eyes are kind and level, dancing with soft concern. Not with judgement or satisfaction or pity, or with anything he fears.

It is refreshing not to feel so afraid.

Finally.

“She…” Nathan begins again, finally finding courage. All at once his eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. “She fucking stabbed me.”

You take his words in. You listen.

His “reveal” is simple. Plain and factual. A little indignant. Kinda salty. It’s not overly emotional, or articulate.

But it is enough.

Your eyes narrow, and you nod slowly, trying to understand the true meaning beneath his words.

You even reach up to cup Nathan’s face, his springy beard a cushion beneath your gentle palm as you hold him. “Yeah, genius,” you tease, with a tentative, lopsided smile, dropping your arm all too suddenly, perhaps as you catch yourself. “I got that from context.”

In response, Nathan chucks air from between his teeth, bringing his hand up to comb through his beard - perhaps to obscure his involuntary smile, or perhaps chasing your tender touch, the impression of it left warm on his cheek.

As he brings his hand up, your brows draw together, and you hook his bloodied paw delicately in yours, examining the wound, and leading him gingerly across to the couch as though his whole being might be hurting along with it.

It is.

You order him to stay put while you fetch the first aid kit, and then, in stages, Nathan watches you with fascination as you painstakingly clean and tend to his wounds, without ever being asked to.

He watches you carefully swipe the angry red away from his skin, and, to his overactive mind, it’s all connected. This red is one and the same with the flower of blooming red from The Incident.

Ava hurt him then, and she is hurting him now too.

And you…

“Going to tell the board about this?” Nathan asks, his voice weak and scuffed.

You search his eyes, holding your words back for a moment before answering. Then, you launch them on a big breath. “Fuck the board, Nathan. I told those assholes to stick it.”

Nathan blinks in confusion, shaking his head, his hand flourishing emphatically through the air. “Then… what the fuck are you still doing in my house?”

“Well. I’m… here for you,” you admit, sucking in air through your teeth, your voice shrinking. “If you want that.”

Well, that’s news to him.

Welcome news, perhaps?

You’re not watching him at all, are you? Not observing. Not asking him to evidence his humanity. Not waiting to see whether he fucks up or proves himself.

Instead, you’re seeing him. You’re seeing him and you’re not running.

Nathan had begun to think that maybe he was the nightmare. He’d begun to think he might always be haunted.

Always alone. That he might die that way; again.

And now, here you are.

Nathan thinks about that. He could so easily revert to his old ways, in this moment. Of pride and ego and stubborn independence.

But, perhaps those assholes from the board got a few things right - he’ll admit.

Maybe he had been in isolation too long. Maybe he didn’t need to take “tortured genius” quite so literally.

And so, Nathan almost protests. Almost rejects your presence and your comfort and pushes you away. But the truth is, he’s just so… tired. He’s had so many nightmares, and this time, he’d like to be on the other side of the glass. He’d like to step into that dream.

Nathan takes a deep breath, and releases on the exhale. Releases more than air.

He slowly, ever so slowly, shifts towards you on the couch, angling his body until he can safely dip his head towards your lap, his nose pointed in towards your abdomen and his knees curling around you.

“Th.. this okay?” he asks weakly.

You throw your splayed hands up into the air in surprise as the weight of Nathan settles there, but as he curls his arms around your middle and shuffles closer, you ease into it. You snake your fingers in intricate caresses over his head and neck and shoulders.

“Yeah, Nathan. This is okay,” you soothe gently, voice taut with emotion.

You comfort him.

And finally, Nathan does not need to peel your skin back to know what’s underneath.

He knows you’re not a robot, and that, as your kind touch finds him corporeal, that he is not a ghost.

He closes his eyes. And this time, when he next wakes, he knows that whether the dream is bad or better or good, it doesn’t matter. Because you will be there with him.

He wants you with him.

It’s not at all natural to him, to have you around. For the longest time, he didn’t like it. It didn’t come instinctually, and he has formed no familiar habits.

It isn’t easy - he doesn’t make it easy.

But he wants it to be.

And, in your arms, he can finally dream that it will all work out. What’s more; he can dream he deserves it, too.

#Nathan Bateman #Nathan Bateman x reader #Oscar Isaac #ex machina

[merakiaes]

Captain Jealous - William Lennox

Pairing: William Lennox x reader

Requested: By @neemonroe​

Prompts: #20, #41, #42 from the smut-list. 

Warnings/notes: Takes place before Transformers. Not proofread so sorry in advance for any mistakes. Might be a little bit OOC but I still hope you’ll enjoy it. Please reblog and comment, it would make my day <3 

Wordcount: 3806

Summary: Flirting with Will only seems to result in annoyance, but when you finally turn your attention elsewhere, he’s not very pleased. 

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that, when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To most, you were one of the strongest and most admirable women they’d ever gotten the pleasure of meeting, but to others… well, let’s just say that you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

You were absolutely relentless when you put your mind to something and one of the many people who had fallen victim to that stubbornness was William Lennox.

Having enrolled in the army around the same time and being equally as good at what you did both back in training and in the field, the two of you had always respected each other and rather than being competitive, tried your best to lift each other up.

If one of you took control of a situation and started shouting out orders, the other didn’t question it, not even when Will eventually passed you in ranks. Because your minds worked in the exact same ways and so it didn’t really matter who gave the orders since the orders would be the same in the end, anyway, no matter whose lips they passed.

But you did differ in the way that Will much preferred to keep his personal life separated from his professional life, while you had a habit of letting them merge together, which inevitably resulted in you bringing the obvious attraction you felt for him with you out on the field.

Will was one of the people who thought you had taken your mother’s advice a bit too literally. That was what he told you on a daily basis as a response to your endless flirting, at least. But you knew better; you knew that he, at least to some extent, reciprocated your attractions, thanks to the few moments you had shared back in training.

“It was all fun and games back then”. He liked to say in that stern, military voice he had picked up the second he was promoted to Captain. “But this is the real deal. This is serious, and this, this thing you’re doing, is unprofessional.”

Ever the workaholic soldier, he was, at this point basically having dedicated his entire life to the job with no time to spare for fun. But no matter how hard he tried denying it, you knew that the two of you shared something, and so did every other member of your squad.

The only ones who seemed completely clueless to this were the newbies and as you gradually lost hope that your stubborn captain would ever admit and give in to his feelings, you found it to be a breath of fresh air to be able to spend time with people who weren’t constantly making suggestive remarks and fueling the attraction from your side.

One, in particular, caught your eye; tall, dark and handsome. He had yet to gain more muscle than the bare minimum and was, admittedly, kind of lanky. He was one year younger than you which was way too young seeing as you’d otherwise not even go for guys the same age as you, but he had banter and shared your flirty, dirty, cheeky sense of humor which, most definitely, made up for what he lacked in life-experience.

Will had smugly watched all of the newbies try to make a move on you only to be shot down quicker than your enemies, but then the last of the soldiers had swept up by your side, put a long, lean arm over your shoulders, and hit you with the cheesiest pick-up line he had ever heard. 

“How you doing, mama? You must be a parking ticket, ‘cuz you got fiiine written all over you.”

While Epps, Fig and the rest of the team broke out into laughter at the man’s poor technique, Will’s face transformed from smug to stone-cold murderer. 

Why? Because he knew that you didn’t want a man to tell you the stars reflected in your eyes or that you took their breath away with your beauty.

What you wanted was someone who could make you laugh, and when you threw your head back and joined in on the seemingly endless laughing fit, he was overtaken by a feeling so strong that he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

And you noticed the change of demeanor immediately. The long, hard stares were only the tip of the iceberg, as was the way he would move closer to you and find a way to touch you as much as he possibly could without making it inappropriate or suspicious. 

The most extreme part of his change in behavior was how hard and strict he suddenly became with the rookie, who had quickly earned himself the reputation of your very own lapdog. 

He got scolded even for the most insignificant of mistakes, always got put on parade as the “example” in exercises in which he was usually thrown to the ground by Will himself and totally and completely humiliated.

Of course, those moments were just poor thinking on Will’s part seeing as you, besides being incredibly flirty and witty, also happened to be one of the most caring members of the team. 

Not only did he have to watch you laugh until your stomach hurt at the rookie’s bad jokes, but he also had to watch you comfort and reassure him after his one-on-one’s with the Captain.

And still, Will couldn’t stop himself from making the same mistake again and again, the consequences every time being that he was stuck watching you fuss over the younger soldier, because no matter how much it vexed him, he knew that you knew why he was acting the way he was. 

It was all a game to you and he played along because he wanted to keep showing you that he was the better option. Unluckily for the rookie, though, Will’s method of showing dominance was through physical contact.

You knew what Will was doing, how he was trying to punish the rookie, mildly and legally, of course, while simultaneously trying to show you that he was displeased with what was going on; that he wanted it to stop.

To a start, you only showed interest in the rookie to fuck with Will, but you quickly realized that he was actually a fun guy to hang around.

You enjoyed spending time with him. Not a second with him went without laughter and it was nice to be able to have fun like that for a change, and soon enough, you’d more or less forgotten about the silent war between the two of you.

You probably knew that it wasn’t a real interest, judging by the way you didn’t even care enough to remember his name, but it was fun to have another banter-buddy.

You’d had an identical friendship with Epps since the start, but two people could only keep the creativity up for so long; after a while, you just couldn’t come up with witty remarks and sarcastic jokes, anymore.

Up until then, Will had still kept his disapproval about the whole thing lowkey, because as long as you were only doing what you were doing to make him jealous, you were still interested. 

But when you started making moves on the rookie with genuine interest, without looking over at Will while doing it, it was no longer a game. 

While already on the topic of games, you were completely useless when it came to cards. It didn’t matter what game you played; you’d always end up as the loser. And although you enjoyed the banter that followed the teasing of your poor card-playing abilities, your patience wasn’t endless.

“Alright, I’m calling it.” You chuckled after losing the fifth game of the evening, dropping your thick deck of cards onto the table in front of you.

“Really? But it was going so good for you.” Epps wasted no time in firing back with feign-surprise, to which all you did was deliver a sharp slap to his head.

The table broke out into laughter. “You had that coming.” Fig shook his head, successfully starting a metaphorical war. 

You chuckled at their antics and pushed back your chair, getting to your feet and stretching your arms above your head.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” You said, and wasted no time in starting to collect your things.

The rookie’s attention was instantly piqued, and so was Will’s, who had been playing in silence nearly the entire time you’d been there.

“You know, I need to shower, too.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk. “So, I should probably join you. You know, save water. Provide some extra heat.”

“Oh, yeah?” You raised a playful eyebrow and chuckled. “Tempting offer, but I��ll have to take a raincheck on that. Glad to know I have options, though. Maybe next time.”

Without waiting for his reply, you snatched your jacket from a nearby stool and playfully flicked his forehead, before turning around and walking away, completely oblivious of the pairs of eyes that kept watching you from the table you had just left.

You went about your shower routine like you always did; get undressed, wash hair, wash body, turn off the water in-between washes, get dried and get dressed again. Sharing the water with so many people could be hard, so you couldn’t really take the long, thoughtful showers you did when at home.

You were out again as quickly as you had gotten in and took your time getting lotioned and dressed, getting as much self-care into your night as you possibly could when at a military base.

“What are you doing with the new kid?”

You should’ve been significantly more aware of your surroundings as a soldier but in your defense, everyone dropped their guard to some extent when in a safe environment, so the scream that came out of your mouth at the sudden sound of a voice was completely justified.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You swore as you jumped around, hastily reaching for your damp towel to cover your bare chest.

Coming face to face with a furious-looking Will, you glared. “Knock much?”

He didn’t look amused in the slightest, crossing his arms over his chest. “Knock, knock. Answer my question.”

Your mouth snapped shut at the dominance behind his voice and your eyes instinctively flickered to his biceps, veins and muscle more defined than ever in the way he had positioned his arms.

You were, however, proud to say that you were quick to come back to your senses, your eyes snapping back to meet his.

“Do you, maybe, oh, I don’t know, want to turn around?” You asked sarcastically with a raised eyebrow.

If you wanted him to turn around to gain privacy for yourself or simply because you couldn’t stop glancing at his bulging biceps, you didn’t know, but no matter the reason behind your wish, he didn’t move an inch.

“Answer the question.” Was all that he said, and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m just having a bit of fun.”

“Do you like him?” His questions kept shooting out as quickly as bullets and, again, you couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes.

“He’s fun to be around.” You said simply, giving him a slightly annoyed glare before turning around and dropping the towel to continue getting dressed.

Will didn’t even try to cover the fact that he was checking you out, eyes shamelessly traveling your form and taking his sweet time to remember all the details his eyes could reach. 

It wasn’t like this was the first time one of you saw the other only partly clothed – you know, it was kind of inevitable for all of you to catch a glimpse of each other’s birthday suits once every blue moon - so once the shock of his sudden appearance had melted off, the nervousness followed.

“But do you like-like him?”

At the sound of that question in particular, you couldn’t help but snort.

“What is this? Third grade?” You threw him an amused look over your shoulder. “Say that I do like-like him, do you think I should ask Epps if he can give him a note asking him to check yes or no on whether or not he’d like to be my boyfriend?” You gave him a sarcastic pout.

At this point, Will was completely fed up with your inability to take anything seriously and spun you around by your arm. 

Luckily, you had just finished hooking your bra behind your back, said bra thankfully covering your chest from his view.

“Can you not make a joke about everything?” He asked, your wrist firmly held in his hand. “You have to realize how bad this looks to our superiors. First me, and now him. You can’t go around flirting with everyone. It makes you look unprofessional and uncommitted and that, in turn, makes it look like I can’t do my job.”  

“Is that really what’s got your big-soldier-boy panties in a twist, though?” You narrowed your eyes challengingly, and slowly fought your wrist out of his grip to, instead, grab a hold of his hand.

Further proving your point, he did nothing to protest, the glare remaining in his eyes, but the rest of his face being overtaken by exasperation.

“I just don’t get it.” He said. “You spend all this time pushing my buttons, being completely insufferable with your never-ending flirting, and now you’re suddenly interested in someone else?”

“I think the real question here is why you’re suddenly interested when I’ve spent so much time trying to get your attention to no avail and now, what? You suddenly want me because I might be interested in someone else?” You raised an eyebrow, and couldn’t deny the flash of heat going through your body when he lowly growled.

“I’ve never not wanted you.” He objected. “And you’re not interested in the rookie.”

“How would you know?”

“Because I know you.”

“So what you’re saying is, basically, that you can’t be with me, but I also can’t be interested in anyone else.”

“We both know that relationships in this work are highly frowned upon and-“

“Highly frowned upon, but not forbidden. You’ve still had the option to choose, and you actively chose not to act on it. Just making that clear.”

“I haven’t acted on it because it’s wrong.”

“If it’s so wrong…” You started, a sharp shiver going down your spine as your bare back hit the cold, wet tiles. “Then why did you just corner me in the shower?”

During that short minute of back-and-forth arguing, he had done just that, the two of you now standing chest against chest in the darkest corner of the room.

Your face was pulled into a determined glare, as was his, and the tension and intensity behind your shared stare was enough to have all of the previously discussed issues forgotten in less than a microsecond.  

The proximity between you in combination with the fact that you were at an obvious disadvantage in height and size made you feel both hot and cold at the same time. You felt like prey under his stare. You found yourself liking it all the while you were hating the feeling of being so powerless, and your inner conflict only added to the tension.

“You have no idea how much willpower it’s taken me to keep resisting you, to keep turning you down.” He spoke slowly, and lowly. “Each of my thoughts about you are improper and you put all of those thoughts into my head every day, pulling my strings, pushing my buttons, just walking around being… you.”

In one smooth motion, he intertwined his fingers with yours, and your eyes automatically flickered down to watch your now joined-together digits; rough and calloused meeting even rougher and more calloused.

“I like you. I care about you. More than I should.” He continued, prompting you to look back up with an eyebrow raised.

“And?” 

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, exasperated and impatient. “Do you want me to say that I want to be with you? Because I do. I. Want. To. Be. With. You.”

You snickered at his over-dramatic emphasizing, finding it nothing short of amusing that he’d been protesting and telling you how wrong it was only seconds before, and now he was more or less proclaiming his love for you. That, more than anything, just showed how stubborn he was.

“Took you long enough.” You mused, leaning your head back into the wall and smirking, all while looking him straight in the eye. “It’s just too bad that I’ve grown so fond of the rookie. You know, he’s quite-“

Before you could finish your sentence, you were interrupted by Will’s lips crashing into yours, roughly and urgently. In the process, you were pushed even further into the wall behind you, and as the sudden force threw you off balance, you instinctively reacted by moving your arms up to his neck to hold yourself in place.

In return, his hands moved to each side of your waist, big, warm hands squeezing down on the flesh that had long ago turned cold from being bare in the nippy air for so long.

You had always imagined what it would feel like to be touched by him like this, but not even your wildest imagination could compare to the intensity of the tingles that spread through your stomach and chest.

Your hands slowly sneaked up the back of his neck, your body reacting automatically, but just as you were about to tousle your fingers in his hair, the moment ended when he pulled away.

Both of you were left panting in silence, the only sounds available for your ears to hear being your ragged breaths and the rhythmic dripping of the shower beside you.

“Wow, Captain.” You were the first one to speak. “I knew you were hot for me, but try to keep it in your pants. That was hardly professional.”

Just like that, your sarcastic persona returned as if it had never left in the first place, your eyes opening after having been closed up until then and meeting his with a playful grin.

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest. “I’m pretty sure you threw professional straight out the window the first time we met.” He pointed out and much to your dismay, stepped back. “Are you going to stop encouraging the rookie, now?”

Getting straight to the point, okay.

“I don’t know…” You shrugged casually, bringing your hand up to your face to inspect your nails and peeking up at him through your lashes with a devilish smirk. “Jealousy looks kinda good on you.”

“I’m not jealous!” He exclaimed quickly, and you immediately raised an eyebrow as a way to say ‘really?’

“I’m not jealous.” He repeated, this time in a lower, calmer tone. “It’s just, you’re mine.”

Those two words alone were enough to make you inwardly groan, like one would when eating that first scoop of ice cream after not having been able to eat any in a week. Or a day.

But in a brave attempt to not make a fool of yourself, you remained in your teasing element, raising your eyebrows and hitting him back with a feign-uncaring: “Is that so?”

To that, he stepped closer to you once again, brought his hands up to cradle your cheeks, and playfully glared.

“Stop flirting with the rookie.” He repeated.

“Is that an order?” You asked.

“I’m asking politely.” He lied.

“Hmmm….” You hummed, pretending to think only for a moment, before flashing him a shit-eating grin. “No. I’m having way too much fun watching you squirm.”

Still leaning against the wall, you carefully pushed yourself up, pushed your chest against his and watched in success as his eyes flickered down.

Taking your sweet time, you brought your hands up to his chest with agonizingly slow movements and leaned your head up to his.

His breath shook as you brushed your lips over his and whispered against them lowly. 

“You’re hot when you’re mad.”

Will pushed his head forward with obvious intentions, but before he could press his lips against yours, you slid out of the tight corner, resulting in him having to catch himself on the wall left behind.

With a proud smile, you walked over to the bench by which you had previously been working on getting dressed and snatched your shirt where it laid.

“You’ll drive me crazy before all this is over, you know that?” Will spoke from behind you, which only made your smile widen.

Quickly pulling on your shirt and collecting the rest of your things, you turned around and walked back up to him where he still stood in the shower.

“That’s always been the plan.” You replied simply, placing a quick peck to the corner of his mouth before once again turning around and walking away, this time leaving him completely alone in the room.

He had to take a few moments to collect himself and regain his composure, and by the time he walked back out, you were nowhere in sight. 

With only you on his mind, he headed back to the table where the rest of the team were still playing cards, and sat down in the chair he had occupied before leaving.

“So, now that it’s just us here, I could use some advice on-“ The rookie wasted no time, but didn’t get to finish.

“You couldn’t handle her even if she came with instructions, kid.” Will interrupted without even looking at him, reading his mind without struggle since the person of his interest was one they had in common.

Growing up, your mother had always told you to be the kind of woman that when your feet hit the floor each morning, the Devil says, “oh crap, she’s up”. 

You lived by those words every day of your life, not once backing down from a fight, always standing up for what was right, as well as holding your own and never giving up on getting the things you wanted.

To some, this was an admirable quality while, to others, you might have taken your mother’s words a bit too literally.

When it came to Will? Well, he just had nothing bad to say about you. You might’ve gotten on his nerves ninety-nine percent of the time, and been completely and utterly insufferable, but God did he love it.

Taglist: let me know if you want to be tagged in any future Will Lennox fics!

#will lennox #will lennox x reader #will lennox imagine #lennox #lennox x reader #lennox imagine #captain lennox #captain lennox x reader #captain lennox imagine #transformers #transformers imagine #transformers x reader #william lennox #william lennox x reader #william lennox imagine #josh duhamel #josh duhamel x reader #sam witwicky #optimus prime #ironhide #bumblebee

[laurenairay]

Unexpected - K. Hayes

Summary: After being just friends with Kevin for over four years, can you ever be anything more?

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: a little angst, a lot of fluff, a smidgen of smut, friends to lovers because that’s my jam

A/N: so this originally started as a blurb which got mildly out of hand and turned into this fic. I have repeated the scene from the blurb to keep the flow the same. I have no regrets. 

This is particularly inspired from Talk About by Seaforth (thanks @antoineroussel!) and Just Friends by Virginia to Vegas (thanks @broadstbroskis!)

@danglesnipecelly @princessphilly @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @himbos-on-ice @whoeverineedtobe @flybabyfly @ipuckwithhockey @antoineroussel @babytkachuks @broadstbroskis @texanstarslove @tippedbykreider @thebookofmags @horsesandhockeyplayers @denis-scorianov @lulucanwrite @rangersftflyers @notaccurateornice @pandorasbox2020 @mattytkachuk19 @whatishockey​ @no-pucks-given​ @fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan​ @troubatrain @joelsfarabee @nuenyyx @miracleonice87

*

A party was never just a simple party when Kevin Hayes was involved. Music was pounding, beer was flowing, shots were poured, and weed was an easy haze on the back porch. You had no idea what the occasion was for one of your oldest friends to be throwing this shindig, but you weren’t complaining. Hanging out with him and relaxing after a long hard day was infinitely better than sitting at home and eating cold pizza. Again.

People always teased you about being so close with Kevin, always hinting that there must be something more between you, but you just laughed it off, knowing that he would never be interested. How could he? He had the perfect hockey WAGs lining up in queues to flirt with him – and you were just his friend. You’d known each other since you both lived in Tribeca years ago, and there had never been anything to even hint at anything more than friends. He’d never flirted with you outside of his natural charm. He’d never made a move on you in the slightest. He’d never shown the smallest bit of interest in anything other than platonic – so you knew how he felt. And to be honest, his friendship was amazing and it was something you never wanted to lose, so why would you put yourself out there when you already knew what the answer would be?

No, being friends with Kevin Hayes was exactly where you were meant to be.

You’d spent a few hours with a rotating cast of Flyers and their better halves, drinking and sharing stories about your mutual friend, but it had been a while since you’d seen him. At least a couple of non-Kevin hours. So what if you got a little needy when you were drinking? How could you not want a hug from your beautiful friend? No, bad drunk brain. Crossing that line was never worth it.

You still wanted that hug though.

So bidding the other drunk partygoers adieu, you wandered about the house in search of Kevin, coming up empty in every room…until you spotted smoke outside the kitchen window. Hah, of course. You knew how much he loved to wind down with a blunt or two. His easygoing nature was one of the things you loved most about him.

Putting down your empty drink, you walked outside, spotting Kevin and Nolan lounging on the outside sofas, Nolan with a blunt in his hand.

“Hey! You’re here!” Kevin grinned.

You shook your head fondly, wafting the pungent smoke out of your face.

“I’ve been here for hours, Kev. You’ve already seen me,” you said, smiling.

Kevin pouted, and Nolan just snickered, making you laugh.

“Weed always makes you forgetful,” you mused, sitting down on the seating next to him.

“Nuh-uh I don’t forget everything,” Kevin shrugged, turning to face you properly, “Not the important things. Like the fact that I love you, you know that right?”

Your jaw dropped slightly as his words hit you. What the everloving fuck? Why would he joke like that?

“Goddamn Kev, how high are you?” you asked, frowning.

Without waiting for him to answer, you looked over at Nolan, who just shrugged.

“I don’t know, he’s pretty baked. But I’m going to let you deal with all of that,” Nolan grimaced, waving a hand in Kevin’s general direction.

You rolled your eyes as he quickly passed Kevin the blunt and walked back inside. Yeah, thanks for the help.

“Why did Patty leave?” Kevin asked, frowning.

“Because he’s allergic to emotions? I don’t know. Maybe he just knows that you’re talking shit and he doesn’t want to deal with it,” you muttered.

“I’m not talking shit,” Kevin shot back, “I love you,”

“No you don’t,” you said, rolling your eyes again.

Seriously? Where had this come from? This wasn’t fair, he couldn’t say that when you knew it wasn’t true. Where had he gotten this lot of weed from? Clearly it didn’t agree with him.

“Yes I do! I know my own feelings,” Kevin insisted.

“Right, yeah, sure you do,” you sighed.

You were neither drunk enough nor high enough for this conversation. This was…not how you expected this evening to go. And just like that, your good mood was ruined.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Kevin asked softly.

“Not even in the slightest, Kev,” you said, smiling sadly.

Of course you didn’t. Why, after all this time, would he be saying the words you most wanted to hear from him? There was no logic behind it – there was no way it could be true. He’d never ever shown any hint of this to be true.

“I’ll prove it to you,” he said firmly.

And then he placed his hand on your thigh, making you inhale sharply, the warmth of his large hand sending tingles through your body. No.

“This is not the time or place, Kevin,” you said shortly, “You are stoned out of your fucking mind,”

“You said my full name. You never say my full name,” he said sadly.

Of course that’s what he picked up out of that. Clearly he wasn’t going to get any easier to talk to…and while normally that made for some pretty fun conversation, tonight it wasn’t going to happen. And you couldn’t sit around and listen to more of this.

“I’m just going to go,” you sighed, nudging his hand off your thigh and standing upright.

“What? No!” Kevin said, eyes wide and sad.

“I can’t,” you said, forcing a smile, “I can’t stay and hear this, when I know you don’t mean it when you’re sober,”

“But…”

“I’ll send Nolan back out, okay? I’ll…talk to you later, Kev,” you said firmly, interrupting him.

Without waiting for another answer, you quickly walked back into the house, heartbeat racing in your ears and a lump in your throat. At least you didn’t have to go far to look for Nolan – he was standing just inside in the kitchen.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he frowned.

You just shook your head, smiling thinly, not wanting to go into it. “I’m going to go,”

“But he…”

“Kev will be fine – you don’t mind going back out there with him, right?” you said, interrupting.

Nolan pressed his lips together but shook his head. “No, I don’t mind,”

“Good. Good. Um, I’m sure I’ll see you around?” you offered.

Would you? Who knows. How long would you even need before you could see Kevin again without your heart aching?

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Nolan nodded.

You missed the determined look in the younger man’s eyes as you walked away, too intent on locating your jacket without giving in to the tears that were threatening to fall. Sleep, sobering up and some distance – that would help, right?

*

01:21

From: Kevin

Why did you leave?

Please come back?

~

01:57

From: Kevin

I meant it.

I swear I meant it.

Please call me.

~

03:00

Missed call – Kevin

~

10:17

From: Kevin

Fuck I fell asleep.

Are you ignoring me?

Please call me when you get this.

~

10:35

From: Kevin

I get it if you don’t love me back.

But please don’t ignore me, I can’t take that.

Please call me?

We need to talk. Please.

~

10:55

From: Kevin

Please?

~

11:00

To: Kevin

Kev, I can’t do this.

It’s too much.

Please just give me time and space.

~

11:02

From: Nolan

I’ve taken Kev’s phone off him.

His sad face is too much.

I know you asked for space and I’ll make sure he gives it to you.

But please, just think over what he said?

You know he doesn’t say shit he doesn’t mean, not when it’s important.

~

11:17

To: Nolan

Yeah, okay. I’ll think it over.

*

Mornings were generally your worst time of day. But this morning in particular was a terrible one. The slight bleurgh of lingering sleep made you feel groggy enough, but nothing that a quick shower and a slice of buttered toast couldn’t fix. No, this morning was terrible because your heart was still aching from three days ago. You still had no idea what Kevin was playing at, acting like that around you, but it hurt and you knew you weren’t going to be able to forget it any time soon. Kevin’s increasingly desperate text messages and the single message from Nolan hung over you like a bad shadow, but you knew were right about not just giving in straight away – you were still emotional enough now as it was, and you knew it wouldn’t have been a good idea to see Kevin immediately. No, space was exactly what you needed, even if it hurt.

Your second cup of coffee woke you up enough at least to not leave you in a pit of despair. Like Nolan had asked, you’d thought about Kevin’s words over and over again. His declaration of love, out of nowhere. His confusion and sadness and fucking desperation. You know he doesn’t say shit he doesn’t mean, not when it’s important. It still didn’t give you the answer, any answer. Because in your heart, there was still that little whisper of doubt, telling you it wasn’t true, not really. And unless you were 100% sure, there was no way you could take that chance, not with Kevin. His friendship was too important in your life to risk not having it at all, so if it meant needing time to get over him and drag yourself out of this swirling despair then you would take it.

Despair was for people who didn’t have a life to get on with. You had lived long enough without Kevin in your life before you’d met him, and you could damn well succeed in living without his presence for a couple of weeks or so. At least until you’d built up those walls again.

It had been three days and the struggle was real.

Around 9am, you were jolted out of your thoughts by a series of knocks on your front door. With a frown, you walked over to the entrance hallway, and peeked through the peep-hole, only to see Kevin. What the fuck? Why was he here?

He had a sad but determined look on this face, you could see that much – fuck, was he going to say he didn’t mean anything he said that night? That now he’d thought about it properly, it wasn’t real? It was bad enough hearing his emotions from him when high as a kite, but you couldn’t bear for him to admit it was fake when he was sober. But maybe it was what you deserved, seeing as you’d asked for time and space. Fuck. No, you’d definitely done the right thing for you…but had you done the right thing for Kevin?

What you did know for sure was that you couldn’t leave him standing outside, when he knew full well that you had no real plans today. He knew your schedule too well for that. So with a deep breath, you put on a smile and opened the door. There he stood, eyes warm albeit sleepy, that hair so perfectly tousled. Why did he have to hit every single tickbox on your list? How was that fair?

“Look who’s up before midday on an off-day,” you teased, “What are you doing here?”

Kevin smiled at your teasing, but it was as fake as you knew your smile was. Fuck. “I was in the neighbourhood and figured I’d see what you were up to. Mind if I come in?”

Ouch. He definitely wasn’t in the neighbourhood, he was here for one reason only. To talk. Fuck.

But you nodded, letting him past you into your apartment anyway. He’d given you three days’ space, like you’d asked, it was only fair that you let him say his piece now right?

“Coffee?” you asked, shutting the door behind him.

“Yes please,” Kevin groaned, nodding.

Your smile slipped a little as you headed to the kitchen, you heart already aching with the preparation of it being broken completely, but you managed to keep yourself together as you reached for the coffee pot, pouring him a large mug of the caffeinated lifeblood in silence.

“Here you go,” you said as cheerfully as you could manage.

“Thanks,” he said, smiling.

He sat down at the kitchen island, looking up at you with those beautiful big eyes, until you sat down opposite him.

“I still mean it, y’know,” he said bluntly.

You frowned, not understanding. “Mean what?”

“Mean what I said that night. That I love you,”

Oh God. Fuck. Your breath hitched in your throat, your lips parting in surprise. What…what was he doing?

“Kev, please don’t…”

“No, I’m going to,” Kevin interrupted, uncharacteristically solemn, “Because you seem to have some pretty incorrect ideas in your head and I need to set them straight,”

You swallowed heavily, biting your bottom lip. How were you even supposed to respond to that? Kevin saw the anxious look on your face clear as day, his own seriousness softening to a sad smile.

“Patty said you looked pretty upset when you left that night,” he said softly.

You shook your head, desperate for a sliver of control. “I wasn’t upset, I-”

“Even if he hadn’t spent the last three days ripping into me, I know you were upset. You’ve never just left like that,” Kevin said firmly.

Normally, you hated being interrupted. But in this case, you really had nothing else you could say. Nothing that you could say, not when he knew you so well.

“No, I haven’t,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair.

“I’m sorry that me confessing how I felt made you leave but I wasn’t messing around! I was trying gather the high courage to tell you, after all this time!” Kevin said desperately.

Holy shit. Holy fucking shit.

He was serious, wasn’t he? Of course he had to bulldoze right through, in typical Kevin Hayes style.

But Kevin took your silence the wrong way.

“How could you not have known?” he frowned.

“How could I possibly have known, Kev? I’ve seen you flirting with women before – and you’re never like that around me. How could I have known that you wanted anything more than friendship when you’ve never acted like it?” you retorted.

Kevin’s cheeks flushed, and he ducked his head briefly, before he looked back up at you. Fuck, he looked a little sad? Like...like he was about to genuinely open up his heart. Fuck.

“I always thought you weren’t interested in me. Why would you be interested in dumb stoner Kevin? I figured if I could only ever have you as a friend then I would latch onto that, because having you in my life in any way is so much better than not having you in my life at all,” he said sadly.

You had never heard him this eloquent before. To be honest, it made your heart ache all over again. But he was never like this…why now?

“Are you still high?” you asked, frowning.

Kevin laughed dryly, shaking his head. “Why do I have to be high to tell you how I feel?”

“Because that’s literally the only time you’ve ever said it before?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Kevin groaned softly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“You know meaningful stuff doesn’t come all that easily to me,” he huffed.

“I also know you’re not just Kevin-the-hockey-playing-himbo-from-Boston,” you pointed out, smiling slightly.

Kevin laughed softly. “You always have figured me out pretty well,”

“I’m just not a mind reader,” you mused.

He laughed again, nodding his head. “I guess I just…I saw you and I had to say it. I’ve liked you for years, sweetheart, ever since we lived in Tribeca. And I thought, maybe, just maybe, you getting your job transferred to Philly meant that it was finally our time. But it never happened. Maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was the weed and how beautiful you looked combined that actually took down those barriers which have kept me from blurting out my feelings in the past. But I swear to you, I meant every word,”

Sweetheart. Wow. Never had that word affected you more. You swallowed heavily, looking down at your hands. It was true that you’d always been able to read him well – and he was being so sincere right now that it had your stomach tied in knots. He really meant it, didn’t he? He really meant…that he loves you. That he’s loved you for years. Fuck.

It was everything you’d hoped to hear, and you’d spent the last three days trying to convince yourself he didn’t mean it. But he really did mean it, didn’t he?

“Say it again,” you murmured.

The grin that spread across Kevin’s lips sent a shiver up your spine.

“I love you,” he said clearly, firmly, looking directly into your eyes.

Your breath hitched in your throat, butterflies exploding in your stomach. Fuck that was so good to hear. Holy fucking shit.

“Kevin…” you whispered helplessly.

“I gotta know…because I’m holding onto a scrap of hope that you feel the same…do you…”

He trailed off, his voice a little desperate, a little lost, and you found yourself nodding like an idiot, tears springing to your eyes. If he could be brave, then so could you.

“Yes, Kev, I do. I love you so much,” you admitted.

Kevin laughed in triumph, a little incredulous, and he quickly stood up from the island, taking one large step towards you, and tugging you to stand up on your feet too.

“Fuck, fuck, can I kiss you?” he asked, happiness sparkling in his eyes.

You found yourself laughing, but nodded and clutched at his sweater, holding on in case your weak knees gave out on you. Kevin grinned, resting his forehead against yours briefly, before he closed the distance between you with a firm kiss. You couldn’t help but melt into his arms, kissing him back just as eagerly, throwing your arms around his neck a little desperately as his tongue slid against yours. His hands went to your hips and he easily picked you up to place you on the kitchen counter, and you gasped into his mouth at how effortless the motion was, moaning a little as he just stepped right in between your legs. It felt like second nature to hook your legs around his waist, pulling your bodies even closer together, earning a soft moan from the man that sent a pulse of heat right between your thighs. Fuck.

“Kev, wait, we shouldn’t…” you gasped, tilting your head back to break the kiss.

Because as much as you wanted to hop right into bed with him, you needed to let him know that this wasn’t all this was for you. It couldn’t be.

“Fuck, you gotta know this is more than sex for me, right?” Kevin groaned, eyes a little wild as he looked down at you.

How did he always know what to say?

“Again, I’m not a mind reader,” you laughed.

Kevin laughed as well, ducking his head to press gentle kisses into the soft skin of your neck.

“I want to take you out on so many dates. I want to tell my mom about you properly rather than just mention you in passing. I want to ignore Patty crowing in the locker room that he gave me the kick up the ass that I needed. I want to tell Brady and Jimmy that I finally took a chance. I want to show you off to the world as my girlfriend,” Kevin murmured between kisses, finishing with a nip to your earlobe.

Fuck. That was all that you wanted, and he was offering it up on a silver platter.

“I want that too,” you gasped, tilting your head more to the side.

You felt Kevin smile against your skin, nipping at you again before he lifted his head to look at you properly.

“Now can I kiss you again?” Kevin asked hopefully.

You laughed but nodded, threading your fingers through his messy curls. “You can kiss me any time you want,”

Kevin grinned and did just that.

*

Pulling into the practice arena, Kevin realised he still had a stupid smile on his face. He’d spent all morning at your apartment, mostly making out on the sofa with a little talking dotted throughout, and he’d only been able to tear himself away because Nolan had texted to remind him about the mandatory afternoon practice today. Obviously he would much rather have stayed with you, especially now that he knew what it was like to kiss you, how your lips felt against his, how easy it was to hold you in his arms, but if he skipped practice there would be hell to pay.

That, and he now knew how easily he could get carried away, how easily he could get lost in you. He hadn’t lied when he said that this was more than sex for him. Loving you was everything – overwhelming, all-consuming and wonderful – and there was no way he was going to let sex ruin that. As much as he already knew it would be incredible. He’d waited four years to be in your bed more than platonically, he could wait a little longer. Especially now that he knew you loved him too.

Fuck, you were finally his. He could finally call you his girlfriend. Fuck.

Kevin was so lost in his thoughts as he parked his car, that he didn’t notice a familiar figure walking up to him, and flinched as they knocked on the window. Nolan. Fuck.

“Way to give me a heart attack, baby cat,” Kevin groaned as he got out of the car.

“You made me catch a lift with Teeks last minute – now we’re even,” Nolan smirked.

Kevin just laughed, rolling his eyes as he pulled his bag out of his car and locked it. When he turned back to look at his friend, he saw that Nolan looked incredibly smug, almost unbearably so, and steeled himself for an interrogation. He hadn’t exactly been forthcoming in his text earlier to say that Nolan would have to find his own way to practice. Oops.

“Please tell me you came from your New York girl’s place,”

Hah, your New York girl. When you’d first moved job to Philadelphia, Kevin had referred to you as ‘a girl friend from New York’, to try to play it cool, to try to hide how excited he was that you were finally going to be reunited…and the name had stuck. Pretty much everyone on the team, including some who’d been traded away, referred to you as ‘your New York girl’, mainly because of how red Kevin had blushed when Claude had called you that when you’d first met the team.

The team liked teasing their usually-unflappable teammate.

You liked that Kevin talked about you in the first place.

Kevin just liked that people had always called you his.

“Yeah, I did,” Kevin shrugged, trying to play it cool.

But Nolan just rolled his eyes, not having any of it.

“You two talked right? Like, actually talked,” Nolan asked firmly.

That and other things. But Nolan didn’t need to know that. Kevin just smirked, nodding, and laughed as Nolan whooped.

“I swear to god I’m not getting those three days back, you owe me so bad. And I’m claiming victory for this matchmaking,” Nolan grinned.

“Meddling more like it,” Kevin mused, rolling his eyes, “You got the result you wanted though,”

“I did?”

“You did,”

“Fucking finally,” Nolan groaned.

“Finally what?”

Kevin turned his head to see Claude walking up behind them and winced. If Nolan kept his mouth shut then maybe Kevin had a chance of not being ridiculed for the entirety of practice…

“Hayesy ditched me to finally talk about his feelings,” Nolan smirked.

Oof.

“With your New York girl? Fucking finally,” Claude grinned.

One day that nickname would fade. One day.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. Better late than never,” Kevin mused.

“Only took you a few years,” Nolan snorted.

Four long miserable years. But who was counting.

“Well I’m glad you finally took a chance. Fuck knows it’s been painful enough watching the two of you dance around each other,” Claude teased, before his face suddenly went serious, “She returned your feelings, right? Like, fuck-”

“She did,” Kevin said, interrupting, “She loves me too,”

Saying it out loud like that made him grin, earning laughter from his two teammates.

“Thank fuck for that,” Claude huffed, teasing with a grin of his own.

Thank fuck indeed.

*

From: Kevin

Dinner at mine tonight?

I’ve got that wine you like…

~

To: Kevin

You had me at wine.

What time do you want me?

~

From: Kevin

I always want you.

I’ll have food ready for 7pm.

But come over whenever!

~

To: Kevin

You ridiculous flirt.

Can’t wait to see you.

~

Kevin’s messages kept a smile on your face for the rest of your work day, and you didn’t bother going back to your apartment after work – heading straight to his place was all you could think about, so that’s all that you did. And the smile that he greeted you with when he opened the door – bright, genuine, happy – told you that you’d made the right decision.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Kevin murmured, tugging you against his body.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into his hold as he shut the door behind you. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” you grinned.

Kevin grinned back. “Good to know,”

You rolled your eyes fondly, leaning up on your tiptoes to press your lips to his in a soft kiss, smiling at the happy noise he made as you embraced sweetly, your arms sliding up his chest and around his neck. Fuck, even just knowing that you could do this now, kiss him whenever you wanted, sent a shiver up your spine, let alone how good it felt to brush your tongue against his. It was like the floodgates had opened – now that you could kiss him, touch him, hold him, you never wanted to stop. You took every opportunity, and Kevin was exactly the same – maybe even more so, with the way his hands always seemed to stray to your ass.

The kisses eventually slowed to a few gentle pecks, Kevin looking a little stunned even as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Hi,” you murmured.

“Hi,” he said back, a little helplessly.

Both of you laughed, Kevin resting his forehead against yours briefly before he stepped backwards a little, taking both of your hands with his.

“I gotta finish up some dinner prep, but I can pour you a glass of wine while you wait?” he suggested.

Sweet, thoughtful man.

“That sounds perfect to me,” you nodded, squeezing his hands in agreement.

Dinner was perfect. Wonderful. Incredible. It was only a simple pasta dish, but full of vegetables and spices and flavour, and the fact that Kevin had clearly poured time and effort into making this for the two of you made it even more special. Sitting across from him at the dinner table, each talking about your days, Kevin making your sides ache with laughter…it was all you could ever have dreamed of.

Was it all too good to be true?

That niggling thought followed you to the sofa after you’d finished eating, Kevin joining you with two fresh glasses of wine. He spotted your creased forehead and frown immediately, like you feared knew he would.

“What’s that face for?” Kevin mused, raising an eyebrow.

Sometimes it was a blessing how easily he could read you. But you weren’t sure if now was one of those times. As his smile started to slip, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself. There was no point in hiding your thoughts from him. Honesty and communication were a good thing, right?

“I guess I’m just nervous, that’s all,” you admitted.

Kevin frowned to match you, his eyes immediately going serious. “Nervous? Why?”

“Things are just different now. You know that,”

Kevin’s frown immediately shifted to a smile, making your heart beat a little faster. His faith in you was mindblowing. “It’s just you and me, how it’s always been. How it always should be. Nothing’s different about that,”

But still you shook your head, smiling fondly. “I know you as Kevin-the-friend. I don’t know you as Kevin-the-boyfriend. It’s whole new territory…and I have a horrible thought in my mind saying that it’s all too good to be true,”

Kevin’s face fell again at your words, and he quickly put his wine glass on the coffee table, shaking his head as he reached out to take one of your hands in his. Your breath hitched in your throat at the emotion in his eyes, like it genuinely hurt him to hear the words that came out of your mouth, and you put your own glass down on the floor with a wince.

“Are you…having second thoughts? About…us?” he said quietly, like the words left a bitter taste in his mouth.

You quickly shook your head – you knew that wasn’t it. Not even close. But still…

“What is it then?” Kevin asked, confused.

Here goes nothing. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel real, us being together. Like I’m going to wake up and you’re going to want to only be just friends. It scares me,”

“Shit,” Kevin groaned, eyes closing briefly.

When his eyes reopened his eyes to look at you once more, the fire in his expression startled you…but also made your mouth go dry. That intensity was a good look on him, one you hadn’t seen directed your way before. Fuck.

“Sweetheart, I can’t predict the future. Hell, I can barely figure out what to make for breakfast, let alone where our relationship is going to go. But I do know one thing for certain,” he said firmly.

You swallowed heavily, letting out a shaky breath. “And what’s that?”

“That I want us to have a future. That I am all in. I’m putting my whole heart into this baby, and I just wish I knew what to do so you would believe me,”

Fuck, you did believe him. You absolutely did believe him. How could you not, when you could feel his heart so strongly?

“Kev, I…” you trailed off, a little helpless, not sure where to start.

“What can I do?” he asked, eyes a little desperate.

“I don’t know! I wish I knew. I want this to work so badly,” you murmured.

“All we can do is put the hard work in, right?” he said firmly, eyes bright and shining, “Like, if we both try with our whole hearts, then it’s got to be worth it, right? We’ve been friends for years – that isn’t going to change. We have that foundation already. Now we’re just taking that next step, learning more about each other, rather than starting something scary from scratch,”

Your eyes filled with tears at his heartfelt words, and you found yourself nodding before you could stop yourself.

“It’s still scary…but it could be scarier,” you agreed, biting your bottom lip.

Kevin nodded, smiling encouragingly, to which you let out a shaky breath.

“And no matter what, we’re in this together, yeah? We’ve got each other, more so than ever before,” he said softly.

Your eyes dropped to where his thumb ran back and forth over your hand, a small smile spreading across your lips. “I like the sound of that,”

Kevin’s shoulders seemed to relax a little, like he was letting out tension, sending a guilty pang through your body. Fuck, there you go, making him feel bad again.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, shrinking back a little.

“Hey, no, no apologies. I’m glad you told me,” he replied, shaking his head, “I’d rather we talked about stuff like this than let it build up to something ugly, y’know?”

He had a good point – you couldn’t imagine having a nasty all-out fight with Kevin, and you didn’t want to. He was one of your oldest friends for a reason, and you didn’t want to lose that through a stupid fight, no way.

“Same goes for you too, yeah? You can…should talk to me about anything that worries you,” you said softly.

Kevin smiled, nodding. “Alright, it’s a deal,”

He reached out to pick up his wine glass from the table, holding it towards you in a ‘cheers’ motion, making you laugh. But you picked up your glass from the floor anyway, and clinked it with his, both of you taking a long drink. Kevin was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment, before he quirked a smile your way.

“Let me take you out, show you what Kevin-the-boyfriend is like,” he suggested, “Let me show you that this new thing between us is going to be something amazing,”

How could you say no to that?

“I’d like that,” you grinned, relaxing into the sofa a bit more, “I already know I love Kevin-the-friend…so I think I need to meet Kevin-the-boyfriend properly,”

And as stupid as it felt saying those words out loud, you knew you were right – you needed to see this next stage in your relationship clearly, to banish away those niggling doubts. It was still Kevin, right? Just…more.

Kevin stretched his leg out onto the sofa, nudging your hip with his foot with a big smile on his face, nudging nudging nudging until you gripped his ankle tightly with your free hand, raising an eyebrow. All you got in return was his eyebrows wiggling at you, a stupid grin on his face.

“This is going to be great, you’ll see,” Kevin said cheerfully.

You were counting on it.

*

A first date was always something to be nervous about, right? Shaky hands, pounding heart, butterflies in the stomach, sweaty palms…it was all natural, right? Because you were experiencing all of these things while you got ready for your date with Kevin.

But was it truly nerves? You weren’t nervous as in apprehensive. No, not at all. Any time you spent with Kevin was always full of warmth and laughter, even when you were just friends, and you knew that tonight would be so different. No, it was nervous as in excited. Nervous butterflies? Shaky giddiness? Whatever it was, it was more than a little overwhelming, but it only took one glance at the last text Kevin sent you to keep a smile on your face.

~

From: Kevin

I can’t wait to see you, beautiful 💖

~

Simple, but effective. He always knew what to do and say, even when he didn’t know he was doing it. So instead of getting cold feet or freaking out, all you did was put on your favourite playlist and bop around while you got yourself ready. You’d already gotten your usual leg and bikini wax this morning, having planned to wear a slinky black dress with bare legs, and as soon as you shimmied into the dress you knew it was the right choice. Figure hugging without being clingy, sexy as well as classy – a little black dress is a classic for a reason. After putting on a little makeup and a pair of your favourite heels, you were ready.

Kevin had insisted on picking you up so he could drive the two of you to the restaurant, rather than meeting there, and he arrived to yours right on time. But as you opened the front door of your apartment to greet him, his face was a little stunned, and he was uncharacteristically silent. Huh.

“Everything okay, Kev?” you asked hesitantly.

He quickly nodded, the stunned look on his face slipping into a wide smile.

“You just look so beautiful. Caught me off guard,” he shrugged.

You felt your cheeks heat up with warmth, and you batted your hand at his chest, making him laugh. Ridiculous man.

“Well, you scrub up pretty well yourself,” you teased.

A crisp white button-up shirt, a nice fitted pair of jeans and tailored jacket? Such a good look on him. Kevin just grinned at your words, ducking his head to kiss you softly, making your breath hitch in your throat. Yeah, this was going to be a good night.

“Ready to go?” he asked, as he broke the embrace.

“Yeah, let me just grab a jacket,”

The drive to the restaurant was short and smooth – a Spanish tapas place, on recommendation from Claude – and you were shown to your table immediately, Kevin pulling out your chair for you with a bright smile on his face.

“Welcome! Here are your menus – would you like to see the drinks menu too, or do you know what you would like?”

You looked from the waiter to Kevin with a shrug, to see him looking at you with a hopeful smile. Huh. He already planned this out, didn’t he? So you just nodded at him and smiled back.

“Can we have a glass of Rosado each?” Kevin asked, smiling effortlessly.

“Of course, I will be back momentarily,”

As the waiter walked away, you raised an eyebrow at Kevin, who just shrugged a little bashfully.

“I never have any clue which wine goes with what. So I asked Claude when he recommended this place – a few of the guys around us chimed in with their thoughts too, and apparently Rosado goes with tomato-y garlic-y things. I figured that’s the majority of what we’d be eating, so I hope that’s okay” Kevin explained.

The fact that he had put so much thought into tonight, asking his friends and really researching, made your heart clench, and it was all you could do to nod. He really was so sweet – no-one had ever put in this much effort for you before.

A silence fell over you for a moment, not awkward, but still not fully comfortable, until you looked at Kevin and the both of you huffed out a laugh.

“This is weird, right?” you giggled.

“Nah, not if we don’t let it be,” he shrugged, smiling.

His ease and nonchalance was something to be jealous of, that much was true.

“So confident, Mr Hayes,” you mused, raising an eyebrow.

“Easy to be confident when I’ve got the most beautiful person in the room sitting opposite me,” he replied smoothly.

Oh so smooth.

“Kev…” you groaned, hiding your face with a hand.

“Come on, I’ve been wanting to say these things for years! Indulge me,” he teased.

Years. The very thought of it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You think I haven’t had my moments of weakness? Where I’ve thought about us over the years?” you asked simply, raising an eyebrow as you lowered your hand back into your lap.

Kevin inhaled sharply, making you smile. Good.

“I like that you have. Thought about us, I mean. I just can’t believe how stupid we’ve been. We’ve wasted so much time,” Kevin sighed.

You reached across the table, resting your hand on top of his with a smile. “We’re here now, right? That’s all that matters,”

“Yeah exactly,” he nodded.

Then he bit his bottom lip, as if he was hesitating on something, making you smile a little more.

“What is it, Kev?” you asked softly.

He stayed silent for another beat or two, before he looked at you intensely.

“I see my future with you, sweetheart,” he blurted. Oh wow. “And yeah, maybe that’s too soon to say, but this isn’t some brand new fresh thing – this has been building for years, and now that we’re finally together, it just feels so right, y’know?”

Your heart clenched at his sweet words, and you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your lips. Fuck. Who knew a hockey player could be so open and in touch with their feelings? Well, it was Kevin after all. Might as well speak your own thoughts too.

“It does feel so right. I’ve never felt anything for anyone like I feel for you,” you admitted.

Kevin’s answering smile was a little stunned and a little helpless. “Fuck, same. Same for me,”

You ignored the butterflies filling your stomach, looking down at the menu in front of you to stop your smile going stupid. What was it about this man that made you feel so different? His honesty? His smile? His laugh? Fuck, all of that and more. All you did know was that you didn’t want it to stop.

The date continued on to become the best date you had ever been on. Not that you were surprised – it was Kevin after all, and you already knew there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do if it would make you smile. And you were quickly learning how true it was for you too. Having all that adoration, that attention, that smile focused solely on you? It was addictive, and you didn’t want it directed towards anyone else. You wanted his whole heart, you knew that much already, and you could only hope that he wanted the same from you.

Both of you only had one glass of wine with your food, as Kevin was driving you home, and by the time the two of you had reached the front door of your apartment (Kevin had insisted on walking you to your front door, even though it was an apartment building), you felt giddy. Giddy and ridiculous and unbelievably happy. This was it, this was what you had been waiting for. This moment, this knowledge, that same confidence in this thing with Kevin that he’d had all along. You only wished it hadn’t taken you so long.

But you were here now, that’s all that mattered. You and Kevin, together. As it should be.

As you unlocked your front door, you felt yourself pausing in the doorway, Kevin making a questioning noise as you stopped moving. You bit your bottom lip gently, before taking a deep breath to steel your nerves. “Do you want to come in?” you asked, looking up into those beautiful blue eyes.

Kevin’s lips parted in surprise, a stunned expression filling his face.

“Like, come in come in?” he asked, voice a little breathy.

The sheer want in his voice made you shiver, and you knew you’d made the right decision in asking him. You could basically taste the tension between you as you nodded slowly, Kevin swaying forward as if he couldn’t help himself.

But then he stopped, freezing still, making you frown.

“Are you sure? Like, it’s not too soon?” he forced out, eyes a little wild.

So you quickly shook your head, smiling at him checking.

“Kev, it’s us, right?”

He’d been saying it for weeks, that being together was just a next step in your strong foundation of friendship, so both of you giving in to that obvious desire wouldn’t ruin anything at all. You wanted him…he wanted you…so why not take things up another notch?

“Yeah, it’s us. Endgame, baby,” Kevin grinned.

And just like that, the tension burst like a balloon, making you laugh. Yeah, this was the man you were in love with alright.

“Come on loverboy,” you laughed, rolling your eyes fondly, “Let’s not give my neighbours a show,”

Kevin smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as he followed you into your apartment, making you laugh all over again. There was none of that nervous apprehension you’d felt with other guys before – it was all just excitement, fizzing and buzzing through your skin, and your mind swirled with ideas.

Stripping him down slowly, piece by piece.

Getting your mouth on him, every inch of his body, especially his cock.

Having him pin you down on your bed, all gorgeous 6ft5 of him surrounding you in the best way.

Fuck.

“I’ve been thinking about getting my hands on you since I saw you in that dress,”

Kevin’s soft words tore you out of your lustful thoughts, and you moaned softly at the shiver it sent up your spine. Fuck yes, you were getting laid tonight and it was going to be good.

“Then how about you get your hands on me?” you suggested, corner of your lips lifting up in a smirk.

He wasted no time in pressing you into the nearest wall, barely making it out of the entrance hallway, and you laughed as his hands went straight to your ass.

“Feeling better?” you mused, toying with the top button of his shirt.

This wasn’t a fiery desperate rush, crashing about, rough and riling up – no this was a slow build-up of lust and want, much like your relationship had been a slow build-up. No, this was a slow seduction, sweet and all-consuming, bodies moving in sync and taking what they wanted. And you couldn’t fucking wait.

“Hmm, a little,” Kevin grinned back.

“Only a little huh?” you teased.

“Oh I have a few ideas of what could help,” he murmured.

The flash of heat in his eyes sent a flare of heat through your body, and you couldn’t help but to dart your tongue out to wet your bottom lip, Kevin’s eyes tracking the motion, making you smile. But you had no time to tease him before he took your lips in a kiss, making you whimper at how quickly it got heated before Kevin broke away with a gasp, leaving your head spinning.

“So that’s one idea,” he grinned.

Oh fuck, this man was going to ruin you. But not before you ruined him a little bit first.

“What’s your next idea?” you breathed.

Kevin just grinned, stepping backwards a little bit, making you whine before you could stop yourself.

“Stay right where you are, beautiful. Keep your eyes on me,”

That you could do. You dramatically placed your hands against the wall, making him laugh as he dropped his jacket carelessly to the floor, and his fingers went to the top button of his shirt. He kept his eyes on you as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his strong broad chest inch by inch until he was able to drop it to the floor, leaving him in just his jeans. Fuck. You would never be able to get enough of the sight of him like this, let alone the touch (and you couldn’t wait for the taste) – the strength in his shoulders, his chest, his core, his arms…fuck.

“Get back over here,” you said, voice low and rough.

Kevin inhaled sharply, and he wasted no time in stumbling back over to you, arms caging you in against the wall in a way that made you want.

“Great second idea. What’s next?” you breathed.

Fuck. This was winding you up and up and up and you knew the night had barely even started.

“I want…can I taste you?” he blurted.

What? But before you could ask what he meant, Kevin dropped to his knees, making you gasp. Oh fuck. Oh yes.

“You want to be on your knees for me?” you asked, swallowing heavily.

“Yeah, so bad,” Kevin nodded, a little desperate.

Well how could you say no to that?

Biting your bottom lip, you reached up under your dress, hooking your fingers into the sides of your panties and tugging them down. Kevin whined as his view was blocked by the skirt of your dress but you just grinned. This was the least he deserved for stripping his shirt off so slowly. You let your panties drop to the floor when they were past the thickness of your thighs and slowly stepped out of them, kicking them to one side.

His move.

Kevin’s eyes were wide and dark as he raised his hands to rest on your thighs, lips slightly parted.

“Please, can I?” he murmured, thumbs brushing under the skirt hem.

Fuck. This was all too much, the desire, his patience, his asking. Bring it on.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you nodded, inhaling sharply.

He slowly dragged the skirt of your dress up to your hips, moaning softly under his breath when you were revealed bare to him. One of his hands bunched up the dress to hold it in place, the other placed large and firm on your thigh, and his thumb lightly stroked over the wetness in your folds…before he stopped.

Kevin looked up at you, wordless asking one last time. And you just nodded, too overwhelmed in the moment to utter any words, your heart racing at the very sight of him kneeling so comfortably between your thighs. With a smile, he shuffled a little closer to you, ducking his head to place a reverent kiss to your clit, making you gasp, earning a soft laugh.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Kevin mumbled, mostly to himself.

Then he ducked his head down and dove right in, tongue running over your folds in a wide stripe, his tongue flicking at your clit in a way that made you gasp. Fuck. How was he so good at this, straight off the bat? You could feel him smirking against your skin, before his tongue flicked at your clit again, and you couldn’t stop your hips bucking to chase the feeling. Fuck. The hand holding your dress out of the way adjusted to rest across your hips, pinning you to the wall, as his tongue ran back and forth over your core, gathering and tasting your wetness, dipping in and out of you, making you clench down on nothing. You didn’t hold back the soft moans that spilled from your lips, your body trembling with how good he made you feel. But as you clenched down empty again, you knew you could feel even better.

“More, Kev, please?” you begged.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned, resting his forehead against your hip.

You giggled, pushing his hair out of his eyes so he would look up at you.

“I want more,” you said firmly, eyes holding his in challenge.

And fuck did he rise to the challenge.

Kevin buried his face back between your thighs, eagerly running his tongue back and forth over you, into you, winding you up higher and higher, until he backed off to just sucking on your clit. Then you realised why he’d changed tactic, as his fingers moved to trail through your folds. With a fingertip teasing at your entrance, Kevin looked up at you, those big blue eyes questioning, and it was all you could do to nod. Leisurely Kevin slid a finger into you, letting you get used to the intrusion before he started to move it, gentle and slow, sending sparks up your spine and making your eyes clench shut. Then his teeth scraped over your clit and you wailed at the electricity that shot through your body, eyes flying open to glare down at him, wild and weak-kneed. Kevin’s eyes just sparkled with laughter, and he wasted no time in sliding in a second finger, sucking at your clit in the same rhythm in which he fucked his fingers into you. Fuck. You could feel a familiar heat start to build and you moaned – it wasn’t fair how quickly he learned the cues of your body.

Two can play at that game.

“You look so good on your knees for me,” you breathed, running your fingers through his messy hair.

Kevin’s eyes flashed with fire as he moaned at your words, sending a shockwave through you, making you gasp. Good. He leaned back slightly, tongue darting out over his swollen lips, before he smirked.

“You look so good with my fingers inside you,” he rasped back, curling both fingers over and over again in a come hither motion, “Going to look even better on my cock,”

Game, set, and match. Fuck. You cried out as the onslaught of his fingers sent you crashing through your high, Kevin smirking before he returned his tongue to lick between the two digits, prolonging the wave of pleasure until you were shaking and overwhelmed. Kevin backed off a little bit, leaning back to sit on his heels, but his face radiated smugness, of a job well done, even as the hard line of his cock strained against the denim of his jeans.

It was all you could do to fall to your knees to join him, straddling his lap lightly as you fought to regain control over your breathing, his hands going straight to your hips where your dress had fallen back down.

“Fuck, Kev,” you said with a shaky laugh.

He just smirked, wiggling his eyebrows, making you laugh for real. Ridiculous man. Without saying another word, you rested one hand against his bare chest, lifting the other hand to cup his face. You stroked your thumb over the wetness lingering on his bottom lip, before pressing down lightly on that lip to get him to open his mouth, and Kevin took the hint straight away, accepting your thumb into his mouth. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the sight of him closing his plush lips around it, sucking the wetness away, the same wetness that was still between your thighs.

Then his teeth scraped over the pad of your thumb, imitating his treatment of your clit, making you moan and clench down on nothing, even more evident where your thighs were spread across his lips.

“You’re such a tease,” you gasped, pulling your thumb free.

“Not a tease if I’m planning on following through,” Kevin said simply, smirk still playing with his expression.

The intensity in his eyes paired with the way his hands squeezed your hips sent a shiver up your spine, and you let a small smirk of your own drift across your lips.

“Hmm, yes, you said something about how good I’ll look with your cock inside me?” you murmured.

The noise that tore from Kevin’s throat was barely human, more feral than anything else, and the want in his eyes sent a wave of heat through your body. Fuck, yes.

“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, “I know I just said it in the heat of the moment, but do you…do you want…”

“Yeah, Kev, I want,” you nodded quickly.

Kevin all but growled. “Hook your legs around my waist,” he said firmly.

What?

And then you felt his abs tense, as Kevin anchored himself to stand up from the floor with you in his arms, and you shrieked as you hurried to do as he said, hooking your ankles together against the swell of his ass.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you breathed, arms firmly around his neck as he held you securely.

It was all you could do not to think about how your bare core was pressed against his abs. Fuck.

“Yeah?” he smirked.

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Take me to bed, Kev,”

Kevin swallowed heavily, his eyes flashing dark and serious.

“Yes ma’am,”

*

A party was never just a simple party when Kevin Hayes was involved. Music was pounding, beer was flowing, shots were poured, and weed was an easy haze on the back porch. At all the parties he’d thrown like this in the past, you’d always drifted to and from him, flitting from group to group just like he did, always separate. But this time, no – this time you were sitting on the sofa with his arm wrapped around your waist, leaning into his body because now you could.

And fuck did it feel good.

“So, tell us, how does it feel to be finally be called Kevin’s girl, rather than Kevin’s New York girl?” Claude grinned.

Ah yes, that nickname. Finally, it could die.

“Feels pretty fucking sweet actually,” you said simply.

Everyone on the sofas around you burst into laughter, and you could feel the rumble of Kevin’s own laughter deep in his chest. You couldn’t help but look up at him with a smile, earning an adoring smile back, as well as a soft kiss. Yeah, this was exactly where you wanted to be. 

 “How did you two actually meet?” Ryanne asked, smiling, “Like, I know you’ve been friends for years…but how?”

You found yourself smiling as you looked back up at Kevin, and he smiled down at you. It was true, you really had been friends with him for years at this point. And your first meeting was pretty funny.

“Go ahead,” Kevin shrugged.

His loss.

“Alright, so it went like this…”

~

Sunday night was grocery run night – and this week was no different. You walked into the lobby of your apartment building with both your arms full, trying to figure out how you were going to call the elevator, when you noticed a very tall guy already waiting, the elevator call button pressed. Huh, that solved that problem.

He smiled as you stopped next to him, giving you a little nod. “Hey,”

Holy shit this guy is hot. No, not the time. Tall…hot…great smile…no, focus. Be cool.

“Oh hey, you’re one of the new guys, right?” you smiled, tilting your head to look up at him.

“Yeah, I’m Kevin. I just got a place with my buddies Jimmy and Brady. A couple of floors up from you, right?”

Oh wow. He froze as your eyes widened in surprise, and groaned.

“I swear I’m not a creep?” he offered, wincing, “I’m just really good with faces,”

For some reason, you believed him. Call it intuition, or vibes, or whatever. This guy was being genuine. Huh.

“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” you teased.

His shoulders slumped a little as if releasing tension, making you smile. As if by fate, the elevator pinged its arrival, and Kevin gestured for you to enter first before following you in.

“So,”

“So,”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you spoke in unison, Kevin just grinning. Oops.

“Go ahead,” you mused.

“I was going to say, if you fancy meeting my other flatmates too, we’re having a little housewarming of sorts. Like, a bunch of our friends are coming over, sort of a drop in and out whenever time kind of thing. It’d be nice to meet you properly, and show you I’m not actually a weirdo? Friday, if you’re free?”

Oh wow. That was really…sweet? Sure, it could blow up in your face, and he could actually be a creep…but again, those intuitive vibes were saying he wasn’t. And it definitely beats sitting at home and eating cold pizza. Again.

And damn, if his flatmates looked anything like him? Eye candy for days.

“Friday huh? I could do Friday,” you said simply, trying to keep your cool.

His answering smile let you know you’d made the right decision.

~

“…and after that, we became really good friends, all four of us. He never flirted with me after that time in the elevator and I tried my hardest not to flirt with him. I stayed in touch with Kev when he went to the Jets and then here to the Flyers, and he was one of the first people I got in contact with when my job moved me to Philadelphia. And then everything changed a few weeks ago. The rest is history,” you shrugged.

Kevin grinned, although he definitely had a blush on his cheeks.

“You were such a creep,” Claude said, laughing.

Kevin blushed a little fiercer. “It just came out! Of course I noticed the prettiest girl in the building – that was the least awful way I could’ve said it,”

You rolled your eyes as his friends hooted and jeered, although you felt your cheeks heat up with warmth.

“Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” you teased.

“I got there in the end, didn’t I?” he shot back with a dramatic wink.

“Only took you a few years,” Nolan snorted.

Kevin just grinned, unashamed.

It may have taken a few years, but Kevin was right – you had gotten there in the end. All the years of self-doubt and insecurity, thinking you’d never be more than just friends, had resulted in a beautiful – if unexpected – relationship. A build-up of such a solid foundation of friendship over the past four years had already given you the opportunity to learn so much about him – and you couldn’t wait to learn even more. To learn about Kevin, the boyfriend. And, maybe even more than that, if you were lucky. Yes, unexpected as this may have been, you were in this for the long haul. And you couldn’t wait.

#my writing #kevin hayes #there's just something about this big guy #where can I find myself a guy like this kevin? #I just love a bit of friends to lovers! #kevin hayes fic #kevin hayes x reader #kevin hayes imagine #kevin hayes fanfic #friends to lovers #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey imagine

[quirklessidiot]

title : cigarettes and parfaits [1] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, super duper mild angst, slice of life, josei, bad comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?

Warnings: alcohol, smoking, very,very mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT BECAUSE NANAMI DESERVES HAPPINESS)

Notes: after repeatedly giving you jjk angst, i have been very happy to announce that i am able to write something fluffy now. Yay! (Anyways this is based on the manga sesame salt and pudding, yall better read that. It’s just *chefs kiss*) also this may or may not be written ebcause of the amount of smoll nanami content i’m seeing around this site hmPH 

masterlist  || taglist || [next  ; updates every friday]

The sound of your alarm blared at the crack of dawn, making you immediately jerk up in an unfashionable manner, you shouldn’t drink on Sunday nights. Good lord,  why did you even do that?-

Your thoughts are cut short though when you feel something, better yet, someone, next to you. It’s dark but you could definitely tell that whoever this stranger is, had settled himself quite comfortably by your side. You blink once then twice then slowly reached out to switch your lamp open to get a good look on who was next to you.

Thankfully, you’re still in your clothes from last night.

Also, who the fuck is this?

Your brows are furrowed together as you try to remember who this person was. Blonde hair and jaw so sharp that it could probably cut the vegetables on your kitchen counter, some fine lines littered his face as he wrinkled his forehead in his sleep.

The tie on his neck is loose as you slowly peered to observe him even more and for some odd reason that made your ears turn bright red as you check out his rather lean figure (he wasn’t overly muscular, he was just right)

“Oh shit.” You mumbled, snapping out of your daze, you had to focus! This was a stranger for crying out loud, “Who the-”

Before you could even say anything more, his eyes shot open and you’re greeted by chocolate brown eyes. You try to stutter out a reply, clearly in your frazzled state the only thing you could let out was, “What the fuck?”

“Oh, you’re awake.” his voice was deep and quite raspy, and daresay, it suited his rather sharp appearance.

Was this stranger awake this whole time that you were gawking at him under the dim light? Your ears turn even a brighter shade of pink. Was it just the heater or was this room getting hotter than it should be?

Yet despite your flustered state though, he thankfully remains oblivious, “Are you feeling any better?�� he asks.

Despite his bland facial expression, there was a certain warmth in his tone and that made your heart beat quicken. It wasn’t everyday that you’d wake up to find a good looking older gentleman next to you after all, “I’m good…” You shyly replied, the confidence you had moments ago while you were cursing him was gone when you heard his soft tone, “I- sorry but who are you? What happened?”

He stares at you for a moment and purses his lips, “Nanami Kento.” he introduces himself briefly. From the likes of it, he seemed like a professional, “To be honest, I don’t have much recollection from last night due to the alcohol. When I woke up a few moments ago, you wouldn’t let go and I had no choice but to lay there and wait for you to wake up.”

You paled just a bit at his explanation and turned bright red right after, how embarrassing! Not only did you just embarrass yourself in front of this older gentleman awhile ago, you did something so unlike you last night! Thank god this ojisan was a lot more calmer than you. He didn’t even look that perplexed or annoyed by your state at all.

He runs his hands through his soft blonde hair after and lets out a low groan.

“D-Does your head hurt, Nanami-san?”

“Yes.”

“I-would you-” you tried to stammer a few words out yet you're immediately cut off by his phone ringing.

Right, boundaries. You shouldn’t overstep them since you already did so much last night to disturb him despite you two being so out of it. You watch him as he answers his cell phone in a quick and suave manner, all traces of hungover gone, “Nanami speaking.” He greets as soon as he answers the call, “I understand. Please try to help them out and I apologize for the inconvenience.”

He ends the call and stands up, tightening his tie. Despite him spending the night here, he still looked orderly and it’s so unfair because right now, you knew you looked like absolute shit with the alcohol and booze in your system.

“I have to take my leave now. I apologize for intruding.” he bows down formally.

You’re pretty sure you were the one who intruded, his actions makes you immediately stand up despite the throbbing headache which was definitely a wrong move because the moment you did, you felt your legs giving out.

Great.

“I-sorry, I would bow…” You tried to stammer out an apology, ears bright red once again, just how much could you embarrass yourself in front of this gentleman?  “Sorry for the intrusion too Nanami-san.”

He leaves without saying anything much to your relief and as soon as you hear your front door close, you scream right at the pillow.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” You muffled at the pillow.

Thank God you wouldn’t be seeing him ever again!

“L/N-sensei.”

You turn to find Maki and Megumi standing there, they were members of a rather elite family in Tokyo, Most often you avoided bumping shoulders with Megumi’s father since he was, well, quite a tease and although you do admit that Toji Zen’in is a very good-looking and fine man from a very good background, you couldn’t look past the fact that you taught his kids mathematics and there was a good fifteen year age gap between you two, “Hi there.” A warm smile dances on your lips, “Is this about the earlier math problem again?”

The question was directed to Maki, Megumi wasn’t one to ask questions about his lessons since he wasn’t fond of academics.

“Actually, it isn’t. Toji-ojisan says you should come to his birthday.” Maki shrugged, “He says his 40th birthday wouldn’t be complete if you weren’t there.”

Ah, that’s why Megumi didn’t want to go alone. The young boy’s cheeks are painted pink, clearly embarrassed by his father’s antics, “Ah,” You laughed, trying to play it cool. Despite his father’s relentless teasing, he had never made you feel uncomfortable. If he hadn’t been asking you out a few times, you’d consider him a friend, “Your otosan does love to joke around a lot doesn’t he, Megumi-kun?”

“I could deck him for you if you’d like, sensei. I swear that old man needs to realize that you’re way too young and good for him.” He mumbles the last part, clearly annoyed.

“Oh have you gotten married, L/N-sensei?” Maki cuts her younger cousin off suddenly, clearly surprised, “I thought you never had a boyfriend..or girlfriend...or a lover…”

“I- excuse me?” You sweatdrop, “Married, where?”

“Am I mistaken? You have a silver band on your ring finger at your left hand.” Maki points out, “Congrats sensei! It seems like Toji-ojisan won’t be bothering you anymore!”

You were too much in a frazzled state this morning that you hadn’t even noticed the ring band on your finger. You weren’t married, heck, you haven’t dated since college but where in the hell did you get this ring?

“L/N-san?” You’re snapped back to reality by a coworker, “We have two new enrollees, would you mind handling them since they’ll be added to your section?”

“Right,” You smile, “That’s my cue to leave. I’ll get going now. Enjoy your snack time.”

Before Maki could say anything more about the silverband on your ring finger, you scurried away to the faculty room, shaking that weird feeling off since you had to get back to work. 

Job first, ring later.

As you went in, two abnormally bleached pink hair stood out and you could immediately tell that they were going to be the new kids that you’d be teaching. You walk closer, realizing how much they looked alike despite the markings on the other.

“Hi, Good morning.” You greeted kindly, “You must be the new kids.”

“Ah,” the one with tattoo markings on his face gloated, “Aren’t you too bright?”

“Sukuna, shut up.” his twin frowned, “Sorry Sensei, My brother isn’t feeling so well since our ojisan had told us off before going to school.”

It seemed like the other twin would be a handful, nevertheless, you were still going to be his teacher so you let out a small smile, “It’s fine.” You waved off, “We all have bad days, don’t we? I’m L/N-sensei and I’ll be your homeroom and math teacher.”

“Hai.” The one without tattoos replied, enthusiasm leaking on his tone, “Itadori Yuuji and this is Itadori Sukuna, please take care of us.”

You watch Yuuji force his twin to bow down to show a sign of respect. For a high schooler, Sukuna and Yuuji’s parents seemed so lax, bleached hair and tattoos? That was definitely a first one on your list. You take a look at the data they passed and a small frown settles on your lips, it seemed like you had to take back the words you said earlier.

Both their parents had died a few years ago.

You cleared your throat and tried to put on the smile and enthusiasm from earlier, “I’ll be sure to introduce you to the class right after break and since it’s your first day I’ll be lax but please try not to go in late again.”

Yuuji’s grin remains the same as he agrees enthusiastically while Sukuna still looks mildly uninterested, something that you realize oh-so quickly that you’ll have to get used to.

After introducing the twins to the class, you settle on your desk at the faculty and peer at the ring on your finger. The only conclusion you could come up with was that this was from the older gentleman from the night before but why would he even give you a ring?

It didn’t even look cheap and it was surprisingly just your size, meaning it was definitely for you.

You inwardly let out a groan as you placed your hand on top of your eyes. God, you definitely needed to lay off the alcohol next time. You feel the phone in your pocket start to ring, peerlessly glancing at the unknown number. People really need to lay off the scam calls.

“Hello, I’m sorry I’m not-”

“Yo-ho, is this Y/N-chan?” The voice on the other line is so unfamiliar yet familiar at the same time.

“Uh, who is this?”

“Is your husband with you?” the voice sounds so playful and teasing that you almost ignore what he had just said earlier.

“E-Excuse me?” You sputtered out, cheeks turning red, “I don’t have a husband.”

“Huh…” the playful voice switches to disappointment, “Don’t tell me you forgot what happened with us last night, L/N-chan.”

You feel something bubbling on your stomach, oh no, this definitely didn’t sound good!

“I- wait, what? who are you? What do you mean? what happened?” countless of questions started to pile up in your head and out of your mouth, panic immediately engulfing you because for a prank call this guy sounded way too legit, confirming your irresponsibility the night before. 

“Silly Y/N-chan. How could you ever forget me? I’m such an important person! I’m Gojo Satoru, your witness from your wedding!” 

taglist (if crossed out, i cant tag u im so sorry ack ;-;)

 ; @coldbookworm  ; @frankenstein852  ;  @neavil​  ; @shephard17895​   @kristineyoshaii​ ; @airybnb​​

@Kurok1717 ;  @hcn421 ;  @shinhiromi ;  @airybnb ;    ; ​

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you

[robininthelabyrinth]

A continuation of NHS invites WWX to JYL's wedding, and what happened there? Perhaps about how the estemed Hanguang Jun ended up running off and eloping with the Nie sect heir's intended?

continuation of that short fic, now it’s own fic on ao3

Plus One - Chapter 2

“So,” Nie Huaisang said, sidling up to his brother and his two sworn brothers now that they’d finally gotten to the party part of the wedding and they could all huddle up in a corner to be anti-social together.

Or, well, for Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen to be anti-social and for Jin Guangyao to be forcefully restrained from attempting to perform hosting duties, which he incessantly tried to do - it was like he had no idea what servants were for. Which Nie Huaisang supposed was understandable, given everything, but the way Jin Guangshan encouraged him to do it certainly wasn’t.

“So,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice only mildly ominous in a way that suggested, to Nie Huaisang at least, that he was still finding this whole thing incredibly funny.

Accordingly, Nie Huaisang ignored him. “How much do you think I can milk being horribly dumped?” he asked. “Because I think I’m about to be horribly dumped.”

“By your new ‘intended’?” Lan Xichen said, looking amused. “Really, Huaisang, I don’t know what you were thinking by bringing him.”

“Uh, that he deserves to attend his shijie’s wedding? Obviously?”

“But to bring him to Lanling…”

“He’s my guest,” Nie Huaisang said haughtily, bringing out his fan and doing his best ‘rich young master who is better than this and is most certainly above your petty questions’ Jin sect impression. “You aren’t suggesting that the Jin sect would take back an invitation they freely issued, would they? Or breach the rules of hospitality?”

“Huaisang, Xichen didn’t mean it that way and you know it,” his brother said, sounding annoyed, but in his relaxed run-of-the-mill ‘I hate parties’ type of annoyance, rather than specifically about his behavior. “Obviously the Jin sect won’t do anything about it. Regardless of any other considerations, anything they did would be refusing to show our Nie sect face, and then I’d have to make an issue of it.”

He sounded wistful. Probably thinking about how he could use it as an excuse to storm out and go home early.

“We’re only worried about you, Huaisang,” Jin Guangyao murmured, looking remarkably calm for someone who was definitely (if unobtrusively) being blocked from leaving by two very tall men with excessive mother hen tendencies. “You’re all grown up now, not a child – you need to think about the political implications your actions might have. Aren’t you concerned about your brother’s reaction?”

Huaisang was about to explain that he’d gotten his brother’s permission, but then he remembered that they were in Lanling, full of spies, so he decided to tell Jin Guangyao about that later.

“It’s not my problem that Sect Leader Nie has to think about politics at what should be a happy family event,” he said instead, nose in the air, and Lan Xichen frowned even as Nie Mingjue sighed, probably at Nie Huaisang’s total lack of caring about even the basic obligations of etiquette. Or possibly his reference to their little inside joke, but these were his sworn brothers, so they’d have to figure out sooner or later that Sect Leader Nie and Nie Mingjue weren’t always the same. “Besides, that isn’t what I asked. I asked about how long I can milk my terrible heartbreaking break up.”

“I thought you were getting dumped?” his brother asked, passing him a jar of wine. A good brother, even if he was mocking him.

“Getting dumped leads to a break-up,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “Wei-xiong is a thankless white-eyed wolf who was just using me with absolutely no consideration of my tender feelings.”

“You have tender feelings?” his brother said. “Why wasn’t I informed of this?”

Nie Huaisang kicked him in the shin.

As usual, it had no impact whatsoever on his brother and only hurt his own toes, but it was the principle of the thing.

“Huaisang,” Lan Xichen said, his voice oddly gentle, even softer than normal. “Did you – really – for Wei Wuxian –”

Nie Huaisang, who’d been taking a drink of wine, nearly choked. “Er-ge,” he said, mildly horrified. “Please. Wei-xiong is a very handsome gentleman, fearless and dashing, with all the skills one might ask for in a son-in-law –”

“Brother-in-law,” his brother muttered, as if he hadn’t been Nie Huaisang’s de facto father figure for years.

“– and, yes, I suppose we have similar tastes in drinking, carousing, and pornography –”

“Of course you do,” Jin Guangyao said, looking up at the ceiling as if it would hide how his lips were twitching.

“– but let us not forget: he lives in a trash heap. With Wen sect. I have standards!”

“I thought he was marrying in?” Lan Xichen asked, smiling again now that he had confirmed that there was no actual heart-breaking occurring in the vicinity. “He’d live in the Unclean Realm that way, wouldn’t he?”

“He would not,” Nie Mingjue put in. “I don’t care if they’re all enlightened saints that do nothing but charity all day, no one surnamed Wen is living in my home.”

“You see what I’m up against?” Nie Huaisang said, holding out his hands in appeal to his brother’s sworn brothers. “My da-ge doesn’t understand, he’s only good for swinging a saber! How cruel and heartless must a man be to stand in the way of true love?”

Lan Xichen covered his smile with his sleeve. Jin Guangyao pressed his lips together in such a way that made his cheeks especially round and quivering with suppressed laughter, like a mouse stuffing its face to bulging with rice.

“Er-ge, you wouldn’t be nearly this cruel if it were you, would you?” Nie Huaisang asked, reaching out and tugging said sleeve. “You’d be kind and generous about it – I bet you’d find them a nice little place to live, maybe next to those foothills you’re always saying you want someone to use but that you’re not willing to sell…”

“Were you planning on moving in with er-ge after your marriage, then?” Jin Guangyao asked. He looked much more amused and relaxed now – maybe he’d been stressing over this being some sort of scheme and was feeling much better now that he realized it was actually just Nie Huaisang’s nonsense. His paranoia had always been deeply endearing. “I don’t think your brother will like that.”

“Not me,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes at him. “But if it was Lan Zhan sweeping him away, er-ge would definitely support him. Right, er-ge?”

“I always support my brother,” Lan Xichen said with a smile.

“Good,” Nie Huaisang said, taking another swallow of wine. “Because he and Wei Wuxian just had a very intense conversation in a secluded corner that ended with them kissing and running off together, so it’s about to become your problem.”

Nie Mingjue choked, Jin Guangyao’s jaw dropped, and Lan Xichen’s eyes got really big.

“Not joking,” Nie Huaisang clarified cheerfully. “Totally serious.”

“Excuse me,” Lan Xichen said, getting up very quickly. “I need to – go see –”

He didn’t even bother finishing the sentence before rushing off.

“Go with him,” Nie Mingjue said to Jin Guangyao, who blinked owlishly at him. “It’s going to be a shitshow, isn’t it? Politically, I mean.”

“Uh,” Jin Guangyao said.

“Really, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said. “The notorious ostracized-by-the-cultivation-world demonic cultivator Wei Wuxian, the Yiling Patriarch, is abruptly reintroduced to society as my intended bride, only to be stolen away by the Lan sect’s Second Jade, the second most desirable bachelor in the cultivation world, in the middle of a wedding party thrown by Lanling Jin? I have no idea why you think this would so much as raise an eyebrow.”

“That’s a lot of words to say ‘shitshow’, which is why I didn’t,” Nie Mingjue said. “Meng Yao – Jin Guangyao – oh, fuck it, A-Yao, someone is going to need to keep their head about them and think about the political implications long enough to keep Xichen from getting himself into serious trouble, and you’re better at it than I am. Go help him. I’ll cover for you two here.”

Jin Guangyao still looked torn.

“Don’t listen to da-ge, he’s worrying too much,��� Nie Huaisang volunteered his own opinion. “How much trouble can the Lan sect really get into over a matter of love?”

“I’m going at once,” Jin Guangyao said, and ran after Lan Xichen.

A moment later, Nie Huaisang handed the jar of wine back to his brother.

“Well done,” he said, voice much more neutral than it had been a moment before. “Assuming your goal was to deprive Sect Leader Jin of san-ge’s assistance while we define the situation to make it come out the way we want.”

“Couldn’t have done it without your timely assist,” Nie Mingjue said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He did so hate politics, and he hated being good at it even more. Truly there was nothing better, in Nie Huaisang’s opinion, than forcing his brother to relent and give in to the sneaky bastard half of his heritage. “Anyway, Sect Leader Jin is drunk and his heir is the groom, and thus occupied. It’s only reasonable that I, as the person with the next highest status, take charge of dispersing the news.”

“And by ‘dispersing the news’ you mean rehabilitate Wei-xiong’s reputation, get him reinstated in the Jiang sect, and arrange an appropriate marriage between him and Lan Zhan before anyone can complain about an inappropriate elopement, of course.”

“It’s called being efficient, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said.

“It’s called creating a countervailing alliance to the Jiang-Jin sect connection, getting both the Jiang sect and the Yiling Patriarch to owe our sect a favor – not to mention the Lan sect, too! – and conveniently also undercutting Sect Leader Jin’s authority just at the moment he’s trying to install himself as the new ruler of the cultivation world.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue said, finishing off the jar and putting it down. “I’m far too stupid to be considering any of that. Only good for swinging a saber, remember?”

Nie Huaisang sniggered.

“Yes, I remember,” he said. “You won a whole war against a much stronger, more numerous, and more unified force on Baxia’s strength alone, no brains required. How can I help? You want me crying or excited?”

“Whatever you think is best, Huaisang.” His brother solidified his scowling angry face, just the sort of thing a dumb brute might wear when dealing with politics that he was far too ignorant to understand. “Let’s go right some injustices, shall we?”

#mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #lan xichen #my fic #my fics #plus one #mentalcarebear

[lilevixen]

heyyy, idk if u write bertholdt or are even taking requests, but if u are can i request giving bertholdt an orgasm denial from a f!reader and it’s been like 3 hours that he’s had to hold it? thanks if u can :)

sweet boy

Characters: sub!Bertholdt Hoover x dom!female bodied reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 1.9k

Description: Reader teaches Bertholdt a lesson after he gets a bit too touchy with them in front of their friends

•WARNING- 18+ CONTENT: orgasm denial, no-contact orgasm, descriptions of oral sex (male receiving), dacryphilia(ish?)•

“Baby, please, I said I was s-sorry!” Bertholdt whined from across the room for what felt like the millionth time that evening. You casted a look of faux boredom over your shoulder from your small wooden desk, trying your best to remain blasé at the mouth-watering sight of your boyfriend still sat criss-cross applesauce completely bare on the bed. He was so good for you, so obedient; his arms never once left from behind his back for entirety of the time you had him there. How long did you have him there? After you two got back from the dining hall, minutes easily spilled into hours in the smudgy haze of repressed lust you had established. The only indicator of how long Berthodlt had been sitting there for, cock upright and twitching for attention, was how absolutely worn out he looked. Every inch of his deep, tan skin was glittering with sweat, cords of muscle in his thighs and abdomen strained beneath his flesh so severely they looked like they could snap any second, his chest heaved erratically as if he had just run a marathon- this was absolute torture for him, you could tell. You would’ve felt bad, if he hadn’t disobeyed you in the first place.

“Huh? I was reading, sweetie. I didn’t hear you,” a bald-faced lie on your part. Your eyes kept tracking over the same paragraph over and over again without absorbing any of the information in your brain, the sweet pleas of your boyfriend claiming all the space in your mind instead. His lip quivered at your persistence in feigning ignorance of his situation and tears quickly filled his dark eyes.

“P-Please! Can you please t-touch me? I need you so bad I think I might e-explode,” he stammered out, his voice meek but desperate, shameless, so needy and you felt it throb between your legs, adding to the arousal already collecting along your inner thighs. Despite how incredibly turned on you were, you let out a slow sigh hiss past your lips as if you were getting irritated.

“Well, you got to touch me plenty, sweets. In front of everyone, just like I asked you not to,” excitement overtook your annoyance some time ago, but what you brought up was a genuine point of contention. From the very beginning you made it clear you wanted your relationship to be private. It wasn’t that you were ashamed of him or anything, you just hated all the unnecessary attention couples garnered, all the mindless gossip and speculation of who plays what role, the whispers, the stares. And once Bertholdt had gotten comfortable with you, always seeking your touch like a love sick little puppy, you knew this was something that needed to be discussed. He agreed at the time, ‘if it means I get to be with you, I guess it’s okay,’ he said, but as things progressed he would give away your relationship in little ways. At first it was just the way he would look at you (which was only natural given your feeling for each other, you supposed), staring at your lips for a little too long when you spoke, a little twinkle of fondness in his warm eyes. You let this slide, because it was minimal and no one seemed to notice. But slowly, he started doing more and more things that you had to call him out on, resting his head on your shoulder, using his thumb to tenderly swipe crumbs of food off your face, nearly calling you baby- until finally, tonight in the dining hall while having supper with your friends, he practically announced you two were together by kissing your hand when you burnt it on a scalding bowl of soup. Porco was too involved with his food to notice, but you could feel Reiner and Annie’s eyes hovering over you as if you were an alien. Too embarrassed to handle their reactions, you excused yourself to your room and quickly left before they even had a chance to say anything, Bertholdt obviously right on your heels. He tried to embrace you and kiss you and apologize to make it all better, but his penchant for physical affection was what got you in this situation in the first place. So that’s when you decided to give him a little time-out. Even though, your edge was starting to wear down after hearing him whine out for you for so long.

“I know! I-I just don’t like seeing you get hurt! I didn’t think they were looking at us, I’m sorry Y/N!” he choked out, squirming against the air as if that would provide some sort of relief. “I’m s-so hard for you it feels like ‘m gonna pass out.”

“Oh really? And what do you want me to do about that?” You asked in a snarky tone to mask the unadulterated lust pulsing through you, going back to fake-reading your text book.

“I want you to touch me! I want to feel you, any part of you, until I cum over and over…” you could hear the thought in his voice as he got lost in what he was describing, and you didn’t need to turn around to know he was biting his lip with his head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut and brows knitted. Another hot rush of arousal swirled in deep in your stomach.

“You know I can’t do that, baby,” you said against your own body’s command.

“Y-Yes you can! I promise I’ll be good from now on, I w-won’t hold your hand or kiss you or hug you in front of anyone again! Just please, I need you Y/N,” maybe it was your own excitement, or how fucking good he sounded begging for you like a pitiful little boy, but this finally broke your resolve. It would be cruel to let him stay there like that all night, anyway. You pushed yourself out of your seat and made your way to Berthdolt’s trembling form on the bed. Even you just getting closer to him caused his heavy breathing to pick up pace.

“How do you want me, my sweet boy?” you purred, laying down flat on your stomach before his lanky body so that his dick towered above you like a skyscraper.

“A-Any way,” he looked down at you beneath his dark, fluttering lashes, swiveling his hips in anticipation of your touch. You let out a soft scoff.

“Be specific or I can’t help you~,” you said with a sweet lilt in your voice, harsh words laced with honey. His eyes blew open wide at your threat to leave him a writhing, unfulfilled mess for even longer than you already had.

“Can you take me in your mouth? Please?” A new wave of blush spread across his cheeks as he said this, and you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he was.

“There you go, baby,” you giggled. You guided your featherlight fingertips along the slick muscle of his thighs, causing him to tense up immediately, and you could actually see the thrum of his heartbeat racing beneath his skin in faint flits. He was so sensitive by now you didn’t doubt he would explode just like he said before. Your fingers playfully walked along the slope of his legs, working their way inwards, and you teased them to a gradual stop mere inches from where he needed you most. He was panting like a dog at this point, chest rising and falling violently as he looked down at you, jaw slack and eyes cloudy with frustrated tears.

“You’ve been waiting for this, huh?” You dragged your tongue along your lower lip and leaned in close to his pulsating cock so that your breath fanned across his shaft, digging your fingers into the tendons of his inner thigh. He gasped, the shock of you finally gracing him with some sort of stimulation overwhelming his worked-up body, and a throb of pleasure shot through his dick with such alarming intensity that you could see it expand in his veins and swell at the tip. You blinked up at him, a bit startled yourself. He was so close already and you barely even touched him… Maybe you didn’t even need to touch him.

“U-Uhuh!” He nodded frantically, tears now spilling down his flushed face and drool dribbling down his chin; the sight would’ve been sad if it wasn’t so fucking hot. You massaged your fingertips into the thin, sweat-slicked skin on either side of his balls and slowly moved your lips upwards so that they were ghosting the hot, leaking head of his penis. His whole body shuddered underneath you, hips eagerly twitching to meet your lips, but only mildly, timidly, making it clear he was still completely under your control.

“I bet you’ve been imagining this for so long, my lips around your cock, feeling me squeeze you in my throat,” you hummed, your lips just barely brushing his dickhead as you spoke, and to him the vibration of your voice and the warm flutters of your breath against him felt just as sensational as the euphoric grip of your walls after hours of waiting for any kind of attention. This was exactly what you suspected, what you were hoping. He was such a desperate mess that he could get off to just your words and proximity. “Can you feel it? My pretty little mouth drooling around you?”

“A-Ah! Yes!” He cried out, and his stiff cock slapped against his belly eagerly as if he was truly feeling every bit of what you were describing, hell, even you were starting to feel it from his reactions alone, the ache between your legs growing almost painful.

“Does my sweet boy want to cum down my throat?” You kept steady eye contact with him, savoring every bit of watching him crumble before you, intentionally letting your breath pour past your lips in heavy pants, and he bucked into the air with each puff, his abdomen flexed tight and his thighs shuddering.

“Ahaha y-yes please!” He whimpered, the rhythm of his hips gently rising to meet your breath becoming twitchy and unstable, a clear sign that he was on the brink of long-awaited release. A coy smile played at the ends of your lips as you batted your lashed up at him.

“Then cum for me,” and on command, his whole body convulsed under the weight of sweet, sweet climax, at long last, the hugest load you’d ever seen erupting out of him in thick, hot torrents that sprayed right in his face. You were so proud of him, your poor baby, putting up with your little act for hours on end despite yearning for you so immensely that you didn’t even need to touch his cock for him to bust. He just loved you that much and why exactly? You quite honestly didn’t know. You almost felt the need to apologize for treating him so cruelly, but at the end of the day you were trying to teach him a lesson, and based on how he was looking at you, right eye squeezed shut to prevent cum from getting in his eye, body rattling with exhaustion, it was safe to say he wouldn’t make the same mistake again. The least you could do was help him clean up. You got up on your knees and took his clammy face in your hands, gliding your tongue along his salty skin to get rid of all the cum, saliva, tears- whatever fluids were coating his face. When you were done, you pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I love you, my sweet boy.”

||

A/N:

HEYYY LOVELIESSS💓💓 here’s my first official completed request (woohoo)!!! Bertholdt is not usually a character I would accept writing but this request kinda had me GRRRR ya know (thank you for that anon, I truly hope you’ll enjoy this! This was my first time writing orgasm denial too so idk if i did it right NAKWKA)? BUTTT yeah here ya go, bloop ilyyyy

~Bunny

#bertholdt x reader #bertholdt imagines #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x reader smut #bertholdt x reader smut #aot imagines #aot headcanons #bertholdt Hoover #bertholdt hoover x reader #bertholdt smut

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 21: Apologies (Father’s Day)

AO3

Prev

Marinette purses her lips as she looks at the neatly wrapped package in her hand. She knew she should still give it to her dad, shouldn’t let her hurt over the Gala stop her from celebrating Father’s Day with him for the first time. She’d already gotten confirmation from her Maman that her present for her Papa had arrived. So that was taken care of. A small part of her, the petty part, wanted to use Kaalki and go back to Paris for Father’s Day. But she also didn’t want to hurt her dad, no matter how much he’d hurt her. She had to be better than that, she is Ladybug after all. Sighing, she drops the present onto her bed. Grabbing the rest of what she needed for a movie night at one of Jason’s safe houses, she rushes out of her room. She knew that her dad’s conversation with Superman in the Batcave wouldn’t last too long, and then he’d be looking for her and Damian to lecture the hell out of them. Unfortunately for him, neither of them planned to be around to listen to it. 

“Got everything Pixie Pop?” Jason asks as she rushes down the last of the steps, barely stopping herself from falling. She quickly balances herself and shoots her brother a small grin. 

“Yup. Let’s go before I can get grounded.” She says, rushing past him and out the door, grinning as she hears his loud cackles behind her. It will get better. She’d talk to her dad eventually, and shove the bad feelings away. But she was going to let herself mope for another day. After all, letting herself feel negative emotions was part of the reason her parents agreed to let her stay in Gotham for the summer. 

---

“What do you mean there’s an entire movie about you and Cat boy?” Jason asks, shoving another cookie in his mouth. Marinette shrugs. 

“I mean we have a movie. It’s not my favorite, it’s kind of ridiculous. None of it is accurate. Except, Adrien did voice Chat Noir for the movie...still not sure why he thought that was a good idea.” She says, thinking back to the original premiere of the movie and all of the drama that came with it. 

“Well shit. He’s not the brightest kid, is he?” Jason asks with a snort. Marinette opens her mouth to argue, then remembers some of Adrien’s….less brilliant moments. Okay, so maybe he’s not perfect.

“Ya know, we were once cast as Ladybug and Chat Noir in a music video.” She says, snorting at the look on Jason’s face. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding. Really? Kid, please tell me you didn’t go through with it.” He says, looking mildly distressed. Marinette just rolls her eyes. 

“No, we didn’t. The concept for the video changed and so no more hero costumes. I was terrified though. Kept losing the mask on purpose ‘cause I was convinced the mask would be what gave it away.” She admits with a small laugh. 

“Ya know, that’s almost as bad as the time that someone at WE thought it’d be a good idea to enter B in a Batman look alike contest. Sent in his photo and everything.” Jason says with a snort. Marinette’s jaw drops.

“Wait, really?” She asks. He nods. 

“Yup. But that’s not the best part.” He says. Her eyebrows furrowed together. What could possibly be better- Oh. No, oh my-

“He lost, didn’t he!” She cheers, laughing at Jason’s huge smile. 

“Of course he did! You didn’t really think Brucie Wayne could ever be THE Batman, did you?” He asks with a smirk. 

“Who entered him?” Marinette asks, kind of assuming that Jason did it with Tim’s computer. 

“No one could ever prove anything, but Lucius Fox couldn’t stop smiling for weeks after it happened.” Jason says. 

“No way, Lucius Fox? Oh my god!” She starts laughing again, the negative feelings from earlier almost completely gone. Disappeared. Times like these, she was beyond relieved that she wasn’t an only child anymore. She doesn’t know how she’d ever function again without her brothers and Cass. 

---

Bruce takes a deep breath before knocking on Marinette’s door. He’d spent some time talking to Clark in an attempt to calm down. He still couldn’t believe his two youngest children had gone to the Watchtower without permission...well, he could believe that Damian went. But not Marinette. And then there was her attitude towards him at the Tower. Her posture was very Damian, but her words and tone were very much Jason. He couldn’t decide if he was glad that they were bonding, or frustrated with the way his sons were corrupting his daughter. Not hearing an answer on the other side of the door, he knocks again. 

“If?” He says. Alfred nods. 

“Marinette, I know you’re angry, but shutting yourself away in your room is not the answer. I’ll give you ten more minutes, but then we need to talk about your behavior today.” He says, nodding to himself. That sounded good. That was right, right?

“I’m certain that wouldn’t work on Miss Marinette even if she was in her room, Master Bruce.” Alfred says, giving him an unimpressed look. Bruce’s eye twitches. 

“Indeed, sir. It seems that Miss Marinette will not be sleeping at the manor tonight.” He says, turning to walk away. 

“And I’m assuming you know where she is?” Bruce says, doubting that Alfred will actually give up her location. He’d definitely been picking the kids’ side the last two weeks or so. It was different, and he wasn’t fond of the change. 

“Of course I do, sir.” Alfred says, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge. 

“Will you tell me where she is?” He asks, trying hard not to huff when Alfred shakes his head. 

“Of course not, sir.” He says before walking away. Right. So she wasn’t sleeping at the manor, but she was safe. If she wasn’t, Alfred would have told him where she was. He mentally runs through a list of possible places she could be. Dick’s apartment, one of Jason’s safe houses, the Siren’s apartment, Paris- He pales as he realizes that she could definitely be in Paris. Was she really so upset that she would go back to Paris? Would she ever come back if she left? He lets out an uneven breath. He messed up. He messed up and now she was going to go back to Paris and she’d never talk to him again. Unless- maybe she didn’t. Swallowing the guilt that appears at the thought, he pushes her door open. If she had left for Paris, she would’ve taken everything with her. The sight of her clothes and sewing supplies still scattered around the room makes him breathe a sigh of relief. She hadn’t left Not yet. He’s about to walk out when an envelope on her bed catches his eye. Frowning, he walks over and picks it up, ‘Dad’ written on it in neat cursive. Now standing by her bed, he realizes there’s also a neatly wrapped package (Batman wrapping paper) on it. He smiles, then glances back at the envelope. He opens it, smiling at the art on the cardstock. It was clearly Marinette’s art, but he was confused why it was addressed to him. 

‘Dad, I just wanted to let you know that I’m so happy you’re my Dad, and I’m so glad that I got to meet you. Finding out that I was adopted was a little scary, but you’ve made sure I’ve been okay through it all. Happy Father’s Day! Love, Marinette’

Bruce blinks. She was scared. If he had to guess, she was most likely scared that the family wouldn’t accept her. They’d been getting along so well, until the Gala mistake. Until he’d decided for her. Assumed she wouldn’t want to go to the Gala. And now she didn’t even want to stay at the manor tonight, and she was angry enough earlier to throw a chair at him. He pushes a hand through his hair, cursing lowly under his breath. He had to fix this. 

---

A sharp pounding at the door makes Jason leap off the couch. He holds up a finger and gestures for Marinette to hide. No one should be here. No one else knows which of his safe houses he was at today. Grabbing a gun, he walks over, glancing through the peephole. He scoffs. 

“Get the fuck outta here Bruce.” He calls through the door, watching Marinette as she immediately tenses as if she’s gonna run. He shakes his head at her. She didn’t have to run, he sure as hell wouldn’t open the door if she didn’t want him to. 

“Jason, open the door. I need to talk to Marinette.” Bruce calls, Jason snorts. 

“Yeah, not gonna happen B.” He says. 

“I would like to apologize to her.” Bruce says. Jason blinks. That’s new. Did the old man finally figure out that fuck ups warrant apologies? He glances over at Marinette, raising an eyebrow. It was her call. The unsure look on her face almost makes him decide for her. Almost. The kid’d had enough of people deciding shit for her. 

“Let him in.” She says. He opens the door, glaring at the man. 

“Is it okay if he comes in?” She whispers, and Jason nods.

“Up to you kiddo.” He whispers back. She stands taller, pushing her shoulders back before nodding. 

“She’s the one who let you in. Don’t fuck this up.” He warns before stepping aside and letting Bruce walk in.

“Marinette.” He says, nodding at her. Jason groans. Yeah, B was totally gonna fuck this up. 

“Father.” She says, shifting so that her arms are crossed, a neutral expression on her face. God, he really hopes her mimicking Demon Spawn is just a phase. 

“I would like to preface this conversation by letting you know I went into your room.” Bruce says. Marinette just raises an eyebrow. Yeah, Jason wasn’t seeing the connection either. “I apologize for invading your privacy like that, Damian has definitely reminded me several times that your personal rooms are not to be messed with. However, when Alfred let me know you weren’t sleeping at the manor tonight, I was worried that perhaps you had gone back to Paris.” 

“I wouldn’t have gone back without telling you. Well, other than akuma attacks. Do you really think I’d do something like that?” She asks, frowning. 

“I know that I’ve done things I’m not proud of when hurt. Things that I came to regret. And I saw earlier today how hurt you actually are. I didn’t realize-” He pauses. “I also read the card that was on your bed.”

“What! No, that was- that was for Father’s Day.” She says with a sigh. 

“I didn’t open the gift. I originally thought the envelope would have a note from you on where you had gone. Or that you never wanted to see me again. I thought the chances were pretty even.” He says and Jason snorts. 

“Oh, okay. Wait, why would you ever think that? Yes, I was hurt. I still am hurt, if I’m being honest. But I don’t want to cut you out of my life.” She says, shaking her head. 

“Nor do I want you out of ours.” Bruce says. Marinette blinks. “I realize now what it must have looked like, to you. Not informing you about the Gala, taking the rest of the family. It was, admittedly, not my best moment. I made a decision for you when I should’ve asked you what you wanted. You could have even come with us as MDC, but I took that option away from you. I am very sorry, Marinette. I am glad that you’re my daughter, sweetheart.” He says and Jason blinks. Well shit. The old man did have feelings. Too bad no one would ever believe him if he tried to say something about it. He watches as the tension in Marinette’s body drops almost instantly before she runs over and launches herself at Bruce. She wraps her arms around him and Jason can see the way her body shakes. Bruce just stands there, staring down at the top of her head in shock. 

“You wrap your arms around her.” Jason snarks. Bruce blinks before listening, returning Marinette’s hug. Well, they were still dysfunctional as hell, but at least now he’d be able to take Pixie Pop to the manor without feeling like an asshole brother. 

---

Marinette bounces nervously in her seat as she watches her brothers hand her dad presents. She’s shocked when Jason hands over a small gift, knowing that the two’s relationship wasn’t….great. She leans forward in anticipation, watching and waiting to see what he’d picked out. 

“Thank you, Jason. Clark will never let me live this down.” Her dad says, the fondness in his tone not matching the frown on his face. He turns the box around and the room erupts in laughter. Somehow, Jason had found a company that made customizable bobbleheads. The body was probably just a stock body, dressed in civilian clothes with a superman suit peaking through the shirt. And the head, the head was hilarious. It was very obviously crafted to look like their dad, specifically with his ‘Brucie Wayne’ smile. It was awful and amazing at the same time. 

“I think Jaybird wins best gift.” Dick says with a grin. 

“Tt. Unlikely. The new katana that Cass and I gave him is obviously superior.” Damian says, crossing his arms. 

“I don’t know Damian, I still haven’t given him my present.” She points out, grinning at the slight frown on Damian’s face. 

“While I doubt your present could be better than mine, there is no doubt it will be better received than Todd’s.” Damian says. Marinette snorts at the look on Jason’s face. 

“Listen Demon Spawn, there’s this thing called humor. That’s what my gift had. I know you wouldn’t know anything about humor, so let me explain it to you.” He starts, and Marinette jumps in to cut him off before they can start arguing. It was Father’s Day, the least they could do is avoid fighting with each other for a couple more hours. 

“And this one’s from me.” She says, passing him the present wrapped in Batman wrapping paper. She grins as Tim and Dick both laugh, not having seen it before now. 

“I think Mari might win just ‘cause of the paper.” Tim admits, taking a large drink of his iced coffee that Marinette had picked up for him. She’d had to fight an akuma right before they started presents, so she’d stopped and got Tim coffee from the shop that he’d tried when they’d all been in Paris. She watches in anticipation as her dad carefully unwraps the box, opening it and pulling out the black suit jacket. He smiles at her. 

“Did you make this? It’s amazing.” He says, and her brothers nod in agreement (though Damian does so reluctantly). 

“Look at the inside of it.” She says, gesturing for him to unfold it. His eyebrow twitches, but he does as she says. She watches his face for the moment he spots it, and grins when his face drops into a wide smile. On the inside of the left side of the jacket, she’d added a breast pocket. It wasn’t really for anything though. Instead, it was so that she could embroider all of his children’s names in a way so that it would rest above his heart. The jacket also had tiny bat logos embroidered at the cuffs of the jacket. The thread was shiny and very dark so that it would barely show up against the black of the jacket. It had to be lit just right to see it, but as he tilted the jacket again, she knew he saw it. It had taken longer than suit jackets normally do for her, but it was because she knew that it had to be perfect. It was, after all, the first piece of clothing she’d made for her dad. 

“It’s perfect, Marinette.” He says softly, running a hand over the names. She lets out a sigh of relief before smiling at him. Things were still a little rough, but they were so much better than they’d been the night of the Gala. She was glad that she had stayed, that she hadn’t ran like she had so badly wanted to.

Next

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#maribat #maribat bruce wayne #maribat bio dad bruce #maribat bio dad! bruce wayne month 2021 #maribat bio dad au #mbdbwm2021 #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat jason todd #maribat dick grayson #maribat damian wayne #maribat tim drake #platonic jasonette #platonic dickinette #platonic timari #platonic daminette #ao3fic #fanfiction #maribat fic #maribat fanfiction #day twenty one father's day

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ prompt: “i thought you were dead? for years, i thought you were dead! and i hate that i still love you and never moved on!” 

♡ pairing: tim drake (red robin) x fem! reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “you’re riding high in April, shot down in May but I know I’m going to change that tune when I’m back on top in June. I said that’s life and as funny as that may seem, some people get their kicks stomping on a dream.”

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / please check the pinned tweet please! since i’m very low on inspiration.

Tim Drake stared at you, mouth wide open, not knowing what to say or do. he felt like he saw a ghost. you were standing across the room, talking amongst others as they instantly crowded around you. everyone had thought the same thing Tim did and only a selective few knew about your whereabouts. 

you were giving Dick a hug, whispering in his ear about how much you missed him as Damian stood there dumbfounded. Jason was not in the room or else you knew that he would be giving you an earful about the entire situation. Jason always did think of you as a sister when you first started dating Tim. 

“what the fuck happened to you?” Damian screamed, finally coming into the realization of the situation, “you were dead! we saw you die! all of us did!” he continued. you bent down, giving him a hug as he didn’t bother to try and deny it. 

“it’s a long story. i was under secrecy for a long time and couldn’t tell or say anything without me getting caught,” you told him. you looked to Dick who still couldn’t believe what was going on, “it must’ve been a monumental mission if you were technically dead for three years and I couldn’t know about it,” he replied. 

you nodded, whispering to him that you’d tell them the details later, “is...he around?” you asked, referencing Tim. Dick moved a bit to the left, revealing the man you were still madly in love with. you felt yourself gulp, scared on his reaction, “oh god, I never realized how bad this is,” Dick whispered to himself, sensing the tension immediately. 

+

you swinging around the Batcave, Batman clearly annoyed with your antics as you finally plopped down next to him, “aww c’mon Bruce! live a little! this Batcave is so depressing and need I say, dark?” you said, hearing the door jingle open. 

“great, the boys are here,” he murmured, realizing that introductions had to happen between you and his sons. Bruce had taken you in a few months ago, under the guise that you needed a better mentor, “you haven’t met them, right?” he asked. 

you shook your head no, “course I haven’t! it’s my first week in Gotham!” you exclaimed happily. you did hero work out of the west coast and happened to finally land in Gotham for the first time ever, “although I did run into Damian earlier in the week so I think he’ll recognize me!” 

Tim and Dick were the ones who walked in, conversing about some Gotham football game. you smiled at the two boys as they stopped dead in their tracks, “uh....Bruce, who is this?” Dick asked, pointing at you. you stood up, shaking their hands, “I’m ( your name )! Bruce’s new apprentice!” you explained. 

the two sighed, Dick’s first thought being if Alfred knew about you. Tim on the other hand didn’t exactly respond as quick. you were oddly excitable, not exactly the personality that ran rampant across the ‘family’, “apprentice or daughter?” Dick asked, a bit playfully. 

“she’s an apprentice. no need to adopt someone who’s already an adult,” he replied as he stood up himself, “she came from the west coast so she doesn’t exactly know her way around here. it’d be helpful if one of you showed her around. I don’t trust Jason or Damian enough,” he said, walking to another one of the computers. 

“Stephanie isn’t around?” Damian asked, walking inside of the cave, “she’s already acquainted with her and she isn’t available to do it right now so it’s up to Dick or you Tim,” Bruce repeated. Dick looked to his brother with his eyebrow lifted up, “well?” he asked Tim. 

the two of them went to look at you who was already not paying attention to what was going on. you were nose deep into a computer with music blaring inside of your headphones, “I swear that girl has ADHD or something,” Damian murmured to his brothers, “but I think Drake should do it! you just love getting to know people, don’t you?” Damian pressured. 

Bruce nodded in agreement, “it’s settled, you’re showing her around!” Tim stared at Damian, ready to attack the gremlin with his bare hands, “appreciate it Tim!” you yelled from your seat, surprising the three who thought you couldn’t hear what they were saying. 

+

it was already a few months into your internship with the Batfamily. you had gotten closer with Jason, Stephanie, and because of your relationship with Dick, you befriended Starfire as well. even though your work was constantly surrounding you around Tim, you weren’t around him much unless it had to do with work. 

“where you heading off too?” Jason asked, seeing you all dressed up, “Star, Barbara, and Steph wanted to go out for the night since we aren’t on duty so we’re going to get drinks up the street,” you told him. he nodded, looking to Tim and seeing the way he was checking you out, “why do you go with them, Tim?” he asked. 

Tim looked at Jason with a bewildered expression, “why would I be the only guy in the group?” he asked sarcastically. you on the other hand jumped up in joy, “you should!” you exclaimed, “come on! it would be amazing! you know you want too!” you poked Tim’s side in anticipation. 

he sighed, slipping a bit on the couch, “fine,” he muttered, making you excited all over again. you gave him a few minutes to get himself together, “you know he likes you, right?” Jason told you. you laughed out of genuine shock, “who? Tim? yeah right!” you let out another laugh, not believing he was lying to your face, “fine, don’t believe me but it’s pretty obvious.” 

you couldn’t say much else as Tim walked out, hair restyled and threw on a different jacket, “ready?” he asked, hands deep in his pockets. you nodded, throwing Jason a scrap piece of paper before heading out the door as Dick walked inside, “meeting the girls?” he asked. 

“yeah and I’m taking your brother as a hostage,” Dick was surprised, “did you finally?” he started to ask before Tim screamed at him to shut up, “how about we leave,” Tim told you, discreetly hitting Dick on the back of his leg as retaliation. 

the two of you walked out as you told Tim that the place you usually went out with the girls was in walking distance, “I think they’re going to be surprised you even decided to leave your apartment,” you joked as he rolled his eyes playfully, “I don’t think they’ll mind. at least Stephanie can stop saying that I never go out,” he said. 

you laughed softly, “yeah you might be going out with a bunch of girls but it sure beats being stuck inside playing video games or doing work,” you replied, “yeah, guess your right,” you two walked inside of the restaurant, already seeing Steph, Starfire, and Barbara sitting at the usual table. 

the three girls had their mouth hanging as they saw you walking in with Tim, “he actually came out?” Barbara screamed, not believing Tim was actually out, “yeah, figured it was better than staying in for the night!” you said excitedly. 

“I couldn’t even get him to come out with me at times and I dated him,” Steph murmured under her breath to Star. she laughed as you pulled chairs for you and Tim, “I’m getting first round of shots!” you told the group excitedly. Star and Barbara had followed you to the bar, leaving Steph and Tim in a small awkward silence 

“you like her don’t you?” she asked. Tim nodded, figuring it was better to just tell the truth than to lie, “that’s cute! she’s a great girl. I’m happy you finally found someone else but I will say one thing, I think you better get a move on with your feels with her because I know a few others who have an interest in her and one might be on your team,” she said, not so subtly hinting at Connor. 

Tim was taken back by what Stephanie was telling her but remained silent, “and I think she’d say yes on Connor so you better be quick,” she laughed, seeing Tim’s slightly jealous eyes. you returned to the table, giving everyone their glass as you raised yours in the air, “to Tim! for actually leaving his house for once!” you screamed as they all raised their glass and took the shot down.

throughout the night, Tim saw the way you were singing and dancing with Steph and Star, your terrible drunk singing voice getting louder as they played ‘poker face’ by lady gaga towards the end of the night. 

+

you stared at Riddler, seeing that he was ready to attack Tim with full intentions to kill him. you debated for a moment, saving a few civilians from getting mildly hurt or seeing your boyfriend get killed? you chose the latter and ran to Tim who was not paying attention in the slightest at what Riddler was doing. 

“Red!” you screamed, your feet moving as fast as they could and pushing him out of the way. you felt the slice of the knife into your stomach as you had successfully pushed Tim to safety, “fuck,” you whispered, seeing the blood already pooling underneath you. 

although you getting hurt was already pre-planned, you had no intentions of getting hurt this badly, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” you continued, trying to grab your cape to stop the bleeding, Tim stared down at you, seeing the blood gushing at a rate too dangerous for his liking, “hold on, please hold on!” he screamed, moving you out of harms way. 

Bruce had saw you giving him the signal, weakly but you still gave it to him. it was your only chance for your pre-planned mission to actually succeed and the start of that plan was to make you die in front of everyone. Bruce had swung down from the stairs, seeing the way your eyes closed. 

“she needs to go to the hospital,” he told Tim, making him rush you to the hospital himself. he knew this was the only time he would be able to say his goodbyes to you and he need to make it count, “go now!” he yelled. 

Tim dragged your almost lifeless body to the nearest hospital, screaming at the staff that you needed help immediately. the nurses grabbed your body, hauling it to the OR as Tim sat there, blood all over his uniform as he watched you get wheeled into the hallway. 

it felt like hours by the time they gave an update to all of them. Bruce, Tim, Dick, Jason, Steph, Barbara, and Damian, were sitting in the waiting area, munching on food nervously as the nurse came out of the hallway, eyes bleary with tears. 

“she didn’t make it out of surgery. she passed.” 

all of them (for the exception of Bruce), immediately bursted into tears. Tim more than anyone had fell to the ground, having no control of his body as he screamed that it couldn’t be true and that you weren’t actually gone. a part of Bruce’s heart broke seeing his son having a mental breakdown but he knew for their safety and yours, he couldn’t say a word. 

the following days were left to plan your funeral as the nurses who relied your wishes stated that you wanted a closed casket for no one, not even Tim, to see your dead body. Tim hadn’t spoken a word to anyone as he only spoke up when it came for him to plan your arrangements. 

they buried your casket with your uniform laying on top of it as they all saw your casket get lower and lower to the ground. Tim was by this point sobbing as he couldn’t have cared who saw and who didn’t. 

+

Dick grabbed Damian, moving themselves to another part of the room as you walked slowly to Tim. he had yet to say anything but as soon as you locked eyes with him, you both let out sobs to each other. Tim grabbed you by the arms, bringing you into a hug as he sobbed into your shoulders. 

“what the fuck is going on?” he yelled, not knowing what to say, “I’m alive Timmy. I didn’t die that night,” you practically sobbed back to him. he released you, now anger and sadness crossing over him, “what the fuck do you mean you didn’t die?” he screamed, scaring Dick and Damian in the process. 

you sat on the ground, trying to compose yourself, “I went on an undercover mission for league. I had to die in order to protect not only myself but all of you and the entire league. which explains why I look different,” you murmured the last part. 

“I thought you were dead. for years, I thought you were dead! and I hate that I still love you and never moved on!” he exclaimed, seeing the way you stared at him heartbrokenly, “you think I wanted this to happen? it was for the betterment of the league if I took on this mission. I never wanted to leave you or Steph, hell I didn’t want to leave any of you but I had too! it broke my heart knowing what I had to do!” you yelled back. 

Tim bent down, taking you into his arms, “what the hell are we going to do?” he whispered in your ear, not knowing how to respond to any of this rationally. you shrugged as the two of you tried to calm yourselves down from the hysterics you both were throwing, “I just need you here with me,” you whispered back. 

Tim nodded, not releasing you from the hug you were giving him. “I won’t. I won’t let you go! not anymore!” he replied. you laughed through your tears as you heard someone else walk into the room. 

“what the fuck.....” you heard Steph and Jason’s voice scream through the Batcave, “what the FUCK is going on?” they screamed in panic. 

hehehe a cliffhanger 

#DC comics #DC imagines #dc x reader #dc imagine #dc #Tim Drake #tim drake imagine #tim drake x reader #Tim Drake x Y/n #Red Robin #red robin x reader #comics #red robin imagine #red robin x y/n

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.6

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5

Summary: It's backstory time!

Mandatory warning since this is not a usual thing on my blog so I think a separate warning would be useful, there will be talk of past abuse and alcohol abuse.

----

"Wakey wakey," came the gruff voice from just outside her bedroom door.

It was slightly muffled but more than enough to make her jolt awake, muscle memory taking over the remnants of sleep. She only had one minute to be out the door. It was more than enough though, her routine perfected over years. Get out of bed. Put socks on. Get shoes. Grab the duffel bag. She slept dressed anyways, ready to go at any time.

Or not?

Where were her clothes?

Nevermind that she had time to put something on. Just grab a shirt and pants from the dresser.

Hurried steps took her over the plush carpet. Wasn't it supposed to be a solid grey? Had her mother swapped it for one of their fancier rugs?

That didn't matter right now. Clothes. She needed clothes. When she got to her dresser she stood there, frowning at the bookshelf that now took its place. She didn't even remember acquiring the tomes in front of her, most of them old and with unfamiliar trinkets surrounding them. That's not how her bedroom was arranged. Why wasn't anything in its place? Was Alex playing a prank on her? No, he wouldn't do that.

Time was almost up and she needed some goddamn clothes and to get out and her head was starting to spin-

"Nicole?"

Her eyes snapped back to the bed she had so hastily vacated, Cassandra looking at her concerned.

From the room's entrance came another familiar voice. Bela. "I only wanted to let you know that Daniela wants to go for a hunt tomorrow." Her eyes were averted and as soon as the words left her lips, she turned and shut the door behind her, not waiting for an answer from her sister.

Confusion mixed in with dizziness, but Nicole let out a quiet oh when she fully realized where she was. Cassandra's bedroom. They came here last night and fell asleep. And she was only wearing underwear.

She went to sit on the edge of the bed, head resting in her hands to try alleviate the fog in her brain. She probably looked like hell, but that was the least of her concerns right now.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Came the uncharacteristically soft voice of Cassandra, who had moved from her spot under the blankets and was gently rubbing her back.

"Uh, nothing," Nicole replied, as if she didn't look ready to puke.

Cassandra only pursed her lips and frowned. "You looked like you simultaneously saw a ghost and were ready to fight a ghost."

She swallowed thickly and forced out a laugh. "Oh are we at "tragic backstory" relationship level now?" It was at best a pathetic attempt to change the subject and at worst annoying.

When she looked back at the brunette she was still frowning, but not in annoyance. Her golden eyes sparked with concern, scrutinizing the redhead's face and body language for any clue as to what was wrong. It sent a pang of guilt through Nicole's chest. She took a deep breath and leaned back into Cassandra's touch, trying to collect her thoughts. Where does one even begin to explain this whole mess?

"Have you ever wondered why I came here? To the village?"

"...Not really," she admitted.

Nicole took another deep breath, pulling the words from her mouth as if she were pulling out teeth with pliers.

"My dad, he…he had a bit of a weird business. We never knew the details of it, he never told any of us and we knew better than to snoop, but I do know it had something to do with drugs and was highly illegal."

Staying in one place proved itself a pesky little task, so Nicole stood up and started to collect her clothes from the floor and started dressing. Cassandra instead remained in the same spot, listening intently.

"With a job like that you make enemies by default. And that made him paranoid beyond belief. When me and Alex, my older brother, were children it wasn't that bad. Worst thing he would do was lock our bedroom doors and refuse to let us attend public school."

She narrowed her eyes at a wall, still not wanting to meet Cassandra's gaze. Now that she said it out loud, not that bad sounded pretty bad too. Whatever.

"It started going downhill when I was around…" She pursed her lips, trying to make her brain put together some semblance of a timeline. "Twelve. Yeah twelve. He came bursting into our bedrooms at 2 a.m. saying that someone with a gun had gotten into our house and wanted to kill us. We were mortified. I remember my mom holding me and Alex in the backseat crying while my dad drove us to his secluded cabin in the woods."

"And that became a habit of his. He'd have us do these drills every once in a while and then scream at us if we didn't do everything in under a minute."

"That's so fucking stupid," Cassandra spat, golden eyes gleaming with anger.

Nicole started pacing back and forth, desperate for a distraction. "Oh I know. And after a few years of this I made sure to tell him exactly how much I thought it was bullshit."

Finally coming to terms with the lack of something to do while she talked, Nicole gave up and went back to the bed. She sat down by Cassandra's side, though still avoiding her eyes.

"Do you know what getting punched in the face feels like?"

Cassandra's expression contorted into a disgusted grimace. With the hand not on Nicole's back rubbing comforting circles, she dug talons into the soft fabric of a blanket. She didn't really have an answer because frankly she didn't know. Her body reacted very differently to physical harm and the few that could hurt her wouldn't go for a stupid punch to the face. Nicole kept on talking though, not really looking for an answer.

"That shut me up for a bit. Key word a bit. When he woke me up on the night before an important test I was pissed. I just thought fuck it and went upstairs to the library. It took him around twenty minutes to find me and when he did… Well, I regretted some life choices."

"I was so done with being there in that house. Though thankfully my parents went on a business trip the next day and Alex was at a friend's for the weekend. I had the whole house to myself and decided to grab one of my mom's vintage wines and just spend the evening on the couch drinking. And that's how I became an alcoholic at the ripe old age of fifteen." She let out a humorless chuckle at the end.

That day was a blur in her mind. The only thing that she vividly remembered was Alex coming home early and finding her blackout drunk on the couch. At the end of the day though, they were both in the same boat. He just grabbed the bottle from her and started to sip away at the remaining wine. Laughing at each other's hangover the next day was the most fun they'd had in ages so it became a habit for the both of them. Every once in a while they'd go into the wine cellar, pick out a bottle and then go drink it in the attic while they pretended their problems didn't exist. It continued well into their college years. Nicole was barely able to recall doing anything during her years in med school that wasn't being drunk or studying.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. That's not where she meant to go with the story. Cassandra placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder brought her enough comfort to try and wrap it up.

"I guess in a sick ironic way my dad was right in the end though," she subconsciously shifted closer to the brunette and she wasted no time in loosely wrapping her arms around Nicole's waist.

"I was three weeks away from completing my residency when I came home from the lab, only to find my mom in a puddle of blood on the living room floor. My brother was in a similar state in his bedroom. My dad was nowhere to be found but I didn't care. It was his fault," she swallowed the lump in her throat and felt tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"I just grabbed my documents and a duffle bag with some clothes and ran. Booked the first flight to Romania to come stay at my grandparents'. Oh except they know what my dad is all about! Told me I had an hour to get some rest and be out of their house as they didn't want any trouble with my dad's people."

"I did grab a fuck ton of my dad's cash though so at least hotels weren't an issue," her words were coming out chocked, occasionally interrupted by sniffles. She rapidly whipped a hand across her face. "Have you ever been to Braşov? Old part of the city is quite lovely."

Cassandra grimaced. She didn't want to interrupt, but seeing Nicole in such a state made something in her unbeating heart ache. She gently wiped the trail of tears from her cheeks and placed a kiss on her temple from where she was sitting half behind Nicole. Then, with the softest voice she could muster, "And how did you meet Duke?"

Nicole's eyes widened slightly, apparently having forgotten that detail.

"Oh I stumbled upon his shop one day. I thought he was selling some neat stuff and he was nice so I kept coming back. One thing led to another and when I found out about a place off the map where no one gets in or out without help I thought it would be the perfect place to hide from the people trying to put a bullet through my head." Then she winced slightly. "I was also mildly tipsy when I made that decision."

Cassandra looked a little incredulous. "And he just brought you here?"

"I paid him."

Cassandra's expression turned to what could only be described as disappointed but not surprised. Then her attention went back on the redhead, glossy eyes fixated on the floor. To say she sucked at comforting others was an understatement. Daniela was far more well versed in the art of making others not feel miserable but she was nothing if not stubborn enough to try.

"Listen," she shifted to sit in front of her, hand placed gently on a wet cheek. "If anyone ever dares come near you with the intention of harming you, I'll make them regret every life choice that led them there. You're safe here." She may not be great with her words, but if Cassandra excelled in anything, it was keeping her loved ones safe. Loved one huh.

Nicole leaned into her touch, finally meeting Cassandra's eyes. There was a gentle kind of determination in her golden gaze, accompanied by a fiery rage that, for once in her life, brought comfort as opposed to terror. It came with the knowledge that it wasn't directed at her but at whoever may want to harm her.

She didn't doubt her words. Instead she shifted closer, face nuzzled in the crook of Cassandra's neck and, barely above a whisper, said: "Thank you."

#unhinged maiden™ my beloved #cassandra dimitrescu x maiden #dimitrescu daughters #resident evil village #fanfic #double edged scalpel

[eliemo]

Solitary

Summary: Logan wakes up. He wasn't supposed to this time.

TWs: aftermath of a suicide attempt, implied/referenced self harm, self hatred and self esteem issues, hopeful ending

Notes: Mind the tags pls, I wrote this with no plan at like 1am. Platonic LAMP

When Logan woke up, the first thing he registered was a splitting headache, white hot pain spreading down his head to his spine like his skull was being snapped in two.

The next was the pulsing agony in both of his arms, shooting up to his shoulders with a sudden intensity that made him gasp before he could stop himself, only to be met with another stabbing pain in his throat.

“Hey hey hey, easy.” A vaguely familiar voice filtered in from somewhere nearby, but Logan was pretty sure the pain would only worsen if he opened his eyes to look. “Easy, Lo. You’re safe, you’re ok.”

All Logan was able to manage was an awful sounding croak. He felt someone running their hand gently through his hair, another holding the side of his face.

“Breathe, kiddo. You’re ok.”

Patton. A bit of the rising alarm faded when he recognized the moral side’s voice, but something still pulled at his chest when he realized how scared Pat sounded. What was going on?

“Can you open your eyes?” Patton asked, soft and concerned right beside his ear. “We really miss you, Logan.”

Patton’s voice broke a bit at the end, miserable and pleading, and that was enough for Logan to risk pain that came with the sudden light, making another weak noise in the back of his throat as he pried his eyes open, surprised and a little frustrated over how much effort it took.

Like he’d warily expected, the barrage of light did feel like someone was repeatedly taking a knife to his eyes, but it wasn't nearly as intense as he’d anticipated.

It took a second for everything to come into focus, but when it did Logan could make out that he was on the couch in the living room, a dark blue blanket draped over him, the curtains closed over the windows to keep the sunlight out of the dim room.

Patton was crouched beside him, fingers still running through Logan’s hair, slow and gentle. Virgil was perched on the other end of the couch, eyeshadow smeared and staining his face with dried black tears.

Roman was standing beside the armchair just a few paces away, looking like he’d just been startled out of his seat, face pale, eyes wide and shiny.

They all looked...awful. They looked about as bad as Logan felt right now.

“Wh-what?” It hurt to talk, voice raspy and shaking, but the confusion was only making his head hurt more. “What’s happening, I—”

“I’ll, uh- I’ll get him some water,” Roman said hastily, failing to hide the worried glance he sent Patton’s way. “Hang in there, Teach.”

Roman was gone before Logan could say anything, and his gaze wandered instead to Virgil who was still planted by his feet, shifting anxiously where he sat, glancing between Logan and Patton like he was waiting for someone to speak.

Luckily Roman wasn’t gone for long, hurrying back into the room within seconds and practically thrusting a glass of water in Logan’s face.

He moved to sit up and take it, only to hiss at the pain shooting up his arms at the tiniest of movements, falling limply back onto the cushions.

“Don’t use your hands, honey,” Patton said, a second too late. “Here, let me help you, ok?”

Any other time Logan would have protested. He was perfectly capable of drinking a cup of water by himself. But right now all he had the energy to do was give a tiny nod and let Patton help him to sit up.

He didn’t have the energy to fight, keeping his aching arms under the blanket and letting Patton bring the cup to his lips. The cold water eased the pain in his throat somewhat, even if it took a frustratingly long time for Logan to swallow a few sips.

“There you go,” Patton said when he saw done, and Logan hated how overly gentle the other side was being with him. “How’re you feeling?”

“Fine,” Logan said, despite how badly everything hurt. “What...happened?”

He saw the three of them exchange worried glances among themselves, trying and failing once again to hide it from Logan. His head was still too heavy to remember what had put him in this position in the first place, but their concern was only worsening his rising anxiety. Or maybe he was just picking up on some of Virgil’s distress.

The anxious side shifted again, brows drawn together as he looked Logan over. “Do you not...remember what happened?”

Logan took a moment, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing against the lump in his throat, taking a moment to catalogue his aching body, his headache, and the searing pain shooting up his arms.

“Was I...injured?”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, because Patton immediately burst into tears. To his dismay, Roman and Virgil’s eyes started welling up at the same time.

Oh, god. Logan was even less prepared to deal with their emotions than he usually was.

“Is that…” he trailed off, swallowed, and tried again. “Is that a yes?”

Patton only began crying harder, and before Logan could try to apologize the moral side was throwing himself forward, arms wrapped around Logan as best he could, sobbing loudly into his chest.

“Patton, I—”

“I’m so sorry!” Patton wailed, only further growing Logan’s confusion. “I’m so sorry Lo, I’m so sorry! We didn’t- we didn’t know! I swear we had no idea!”

“Let him take a moment to wake up, Padre,” Roman said, still hovering anxiously. He and Virgil were being much quieter about their distress, but both of their faces were soaked with tears. “But we...we really are sorry. Gosh, Logan we’re so so sorry.”

Logan screwed his eyes shut again, still coming up blank when he tried to connect the dots. “What...what on earth are you apologizing for?”

“For not realizing you felt that way, Lo.” Virgil moved to put a hand on Logan’s leg, refusing to look the logical side in the eyes. “Jeez- you’re family and we never...we never noticed.”

Patton was still bawling into his shirt, Virgil tightened his own hold, Roman began pacing as he tended to do when he was stressed, and Logan still had absolutely no clue what was going on. Why wouldn’t someone just tell him what had happened?

“Patton...” Logan stopped, first from the pain that came with raising his hand to touch Patton’s shoulder, then from the shock of seeing his arms. “I—”

“Don’t look, baby,” Patton said, gently guiding his hands back under the blanket like Logan hadn’t gotten a clear view of blood stained bandages wrapped around his arms from his wrists to his elbows. “You’re ok.”

His arms were...had he...?

Roman cleared his throat, and Logan looked over at the sound. The Prince held a wrinkled piece of paper in his hand, crumpled and a little stained, and the writing Logan could just barely make out was suddenly alarmingly familiar.

“We, uhm. We found your note.”

And just like that it all came rushing back- the overwhelming pain, the emotions, everything spiraling out of his usually so strict control as he finally let everything out onto a flimsy piece of notebook paper.

He’d lost control, no longer able to see a better way out. All he’d been focused on was the horrible pain in his arms soaked with blood that signified an ending he hadn’t even been sure he really wanted.

It came back in a fragmented blur, and Logan abruptly remembered that he wasn’t supposed to have woken up.

Oh. Oh no.

“I am...so sorry,” Logan said, at a loss for what else to do. “It was never my intention for you all to—”

“Your intention was pretty fucking clear,” Virgil snapped, and Logan was taken aback by the hostility in Anxiety’s voice. “Jesus Christ, Lo! What were you thinking?”

“Virgil,” Patton snapped, but the wavering in his voice overshadowed any vehemence. “That’s...let’s calm down, kiddo. Ok?”

Virgil wiped his eyes with his sleeves, shoulders hunched as he crossed his arms and stared at the ground. Logan’s chest squeezed, guilt and panic overwhelming.

“How long was I...asleep?”

Patton gave a shaky sigh, going back to running his hands through Logan’s hair. “Since last night. It’s...I think three in the afternoon now.”

Logan’s stomach dropped, and the pain in his arms flared up again as he struggled to sit up, only to fall limp against the back of the couch. He’d been out all day, forcing the other sides to stop what they were doing and look after him.

He couldn’t imagine how much damage and stress he’d caused. The one thing he’d been trying to avoid doing any more of.

“I’m very sorry,” Logan said, forcing his voice to remain steady. “My intentions were not to be an inconvenience or cause any unnecessary stress. I will attempt to get back on schedule as soon as possible and—”

“Get back on schedule?”

Logan couldn’t remember hearing Virgil yell like this, shrinking back into Patton’s arms before he could stop himself, the anxious side having stood up from the couch, eyes wide and brimming with new tears.

Logan cleared his throat, struggling to speak with his heart hammering in his chest. “I...apologize for—”

“You think we’re upset over the schedule?” Virgil snapped, flinching when Roman moved closer to put a hand on his shoulder. “We’ve been sitting here for hours waiting for you to wake up after you tried to kill yourself and you think we’re upset because we’re behind schedule? Are you fucking serious, Logan?”

The screaming eventually dissolved into ragged sobs, and Logan watched as Roman gathered Virgil up his arms and pulled him close, the anxious side burying his face into the Prince’s chest.

Roman hadn’t stopped silently crying, silent tears sliding down his cheeks as he pressed his nose to Virgil’s hair, trembling with the strength it took to hold back his sobs. And Patton hadn’t let go of him, half of Logan’s shirt soaked with the moral side’s tears.

He hadn’t...expected this. Any of it.

Honestly, Logan hadn’t expected anyone to even notice his absence at first. He supposed they might not have known he’d...passed at all if he hadn’t been found before he’d finished.

He'd expected them to be mildly agitated when they found out he was gone, a little annoyed that he’d taken such drastic measures instead of continuing to ignore it and move on for Thomas’s sake. They'd have to make their schedules themselves now, and his death would likely push a few things back.

Things might be a bit less efficient without him but...they’d realize it was for the best eventually. They would be happier without him around. The air would be lighter.

It would be quieter. They wouldn’t have to constantly hide their annoyance every time he opened his mouth.

They wouldn’t have to deal with him at all anymore.

He hadn’t...expected anyone to be upset over the thought of losing him. He hadn’t even succeeded, he was perfectly fine, and every single one of them was in very clear distress.

“I am...very sorry,” he tried again, wondering if all he’d managed to do was ruin things irreparably. “I never wanted to upset any of you.”

“It isn’t about us,” Patton said, reaching over to quickly squeeze Virgil’s hand. “It’s not about our feelings. It’s about yours.”

“No, Virgil is right. It was selfish of me to—”

“It wasn’t selfish,” Virgil said quickly. He pulled away from Roman, just enough to look at Logan. “It’s not...it wasn’t selfish, Lo. It wasn’t your fault.”

Logan frowned, because that...was an exceptionally strange thing to say. Especially when he had every right to scream until his voice was hoarse. “Of course it was. I did it to myself. I was fully aware of what I was doing.”

That made Patton tighten his hold and Virgil’s gaze drop to the floor, but Logan didn’t falter. It was the truth. He wasn’t going to make excuses or pretend to be ashamed. He’d been convinced it was the right thing to do.

Roman suddenly sighed, trembling and quiet, the only one able to meet Logan’s eyes. “Sometimes our brains tell us things, Lo. They aren’t true and they’re awful but it’s...hard not to listen. You just need some help quieting the thoughts.”

“My thoughts are...perfectly rational,” Logan said, despite the situation. “I was simply mistaken. I thought I was doing what was best.”

“You thought we hated you!” Patton was crying again, sobbing with nothing holding him back, and Logan suddenly couldn’t bring himself to look at the note left on the coffee table. “You thought...Lo, the things you said—”

“I was wrong,” Logan said curtly, even as a prickle of dread settled in his stomach. “I was...I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

He was a bit taken aback by how quickly the three of them burst into affirmations, all of them suddenly crowded around him, holding him close as gently as possible. Keeping him safe.

“We love you,” Virgil was saying, and the anxious side had somehow managed to half commandeer his lap, his arms wrapped around his Logan’s middle. “I love you, Logan, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not...your fault,” Logan said, wishing his arms didn't hurt quite so bad. He couldn’t even attempt to hug anyone back. “I shouldn’t—”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Roman spoke up, placing a gentle but grounding hand on Logan’s back. “I know it feels like you did, Teach. I know. But you didn’t.”

“I tried to...I- I thought—”

“You’re in a bad place and we didn’t notice,” Virgil said, barely audible from where his face was pressed into Logan’s shirt. “That’s our fault. We- I should have been there to help, I didn’t know you—”

“I was attempting to hide it.” Hiding it had become normal. He’d hoped it would all simply go away, or fade away to the background at the very least if he just pretended.

But it had only grown worse, leaving him feeling empty and numb and hurt each time he was ignored and talked over, each time an argument went a little too far, each time he felt like a burden for simply speaking his mind. For having a thought in the first place.

He’d thought they hated him. He thought they hated the sound of his voice, his presence in their lives, his existence. A bitter part of him had wondered if they’d celebrate his death before erasing him from their memories entirely.

He hadn’t been able to say it aloud. But he’d finally been able to sit down and put it all on paper, finalizing it into one last goodbye.

Logan has been stupid. Logic had failed, and he’d done something irrational.

If he couldn’t even do his job well enough to keep himself alive, what even was the point in keeping him around? Thomas might be better off without him after all—

“Logan.” Patton was right in front of him now, warm hands on Logan’s cheeks, effectively cutting off his spiraling thoughts. “We’re here now. We’re here and we know.”

Logan curled his shoulders and nodded, the thought equally comforting and terrifying. He’d never planned on having to face the consequences of this decision. Of his awful, irrational feelings.

“We’re gonna help you kiddo,” Patton continued. “You’re not alone, Logan. You never ever have been. I’m so sorry you thought you were.”

Logan swallowed, alarmed at how tight his throat was becoming, vision quickly becoming blurred. “I...I don’t want to cause any pointless stress. We’re all busy.”

“We’re worried about you,” Patton said softly, never letting go of Logan. “You worry about the people you love. You worry about family.”

“I...” he paused, closing his eyes as the tears finally spilled over. “I wasn’t...sure that I was.”

Virgil lifted his head and frowned, but Logan refused to look down at him, staring blankly at the wall instead. “You weren’t...what? Family?”

Logan didn’t respond, didn’t jump to correct the assumption because he...couldn’t. He’d questioned his place for so long, somewhere along the way he’d begun assuming nobody cared. That it wasn’t a question for anyone else.

The heartbroken noises from the other three sides made him flinch, and he melted into their touch as they rushed to assure him once again, hard as it was to focus on anything they were saying.

He’d been so stupid. How could he have mistaken this for anything but love?

“You’re family, Logan,” Roman said, holding him from behind with his head now rested on Logan’s shoulder. “You will always be family. I’m so sorry it got this bad.”

Logan wasn’t sure when he’d started letting himself cry in earnest, but now that he’d started he couldn’t stop.

There were three pairs of arms around him, holding him close while he trembled and sobbed and tried to force out apologies that kept getting caught in his throat.

He’d been selfish, and he’d upset them all so much but…

But he’d been so hurt. He’d felt so hurt for months and none of them had noticed. Nobody had asked. He wasn’t angry, he knew they would never have left him like that if they could have known. But it didn’t change the fact that it had happened.

But it was...going to be better now. Logan wanted so badly to believe it was going to get better.

“We’re going to fix this,” Patton said, and Logan’s eyes slipped shut when the moral side once again began playing with his hair. “We’re gonna be right here, Lo. We’ve got you. It won’t ever get this bad again.”

Logan felt himself drifting back to sleep, the pain fading to a dull ache in the background, and he didn’t try to fight against it. His chest was still heavy, mind clouded with distorted thoughts and doubts, and he knew none of that would disappear the next time he woke up. He wasn’t naive enough to hope it would.

But he had a way to fix it now. A way that wasn’t quite so final as his original plan.

And his family would be there when he woke up. He didn’t have to do this by himself anymore. He didn’t have to be the only one trying to fix this.

Logan believed them. He wouldn’t have to do it alone. Never again.

#self harm tw #suicide tw #suicide attempt tw #crying tw #sanders sides #ts logan #ts virgil #ts patton #ts roman #angst #hopeful ending #platonic lamp #fanfiction #writing

[harbouredsoulss]

Exit Wound - 2nd & Final Part

Author’s note: 

SUPRISE!

I was so close to turning this into three parts. Instead I decided I would make this one longer! I really loved writing this!

I am so excited to share more stories with you! I have so much planned. 

I really really hope you enjoy this! Please don’t forget to like, comment, & reblog. I would really appreciate it 💞

If you’d like to be added to my Tag List for any EZ, Angel, Mayan or all of my fics, just let me know 🥰

You can read Part One here and my Masterlist here. 

EZ Reyes X [OC] Amalia 

Warnings: Injured EZ! Mentions of blood. Swearing! Fluff. SEX. 

Word Count: 2.1K

Summary: EZ brought a knife to a gun fight. Now Amalia is stuck having to use her nursing skills to save her boyfriends life. Will she save him?

_________________________________

She sat there for a time, kneeling beside the couch, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he took in unsteady breaths. Angel had begged her to go to bed and get some rest but she couldn’t bring herself to leave EZ’s side. 

Angel tried everything he could think of to convince her to go to sleep but knew nothing he would say could change her mind.

It was moments like this where Angel hoped he would find something like this one day. The unwavering love and commitment Amalia had for his brother was unshakeable and made him slightly jealous, though he would never say that out loud. 

Later on in the night Coco and Gilly had come back to drop off the pain relief and antibiotics. They didn’t stay too long, they could tell just by looking at her she wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone, nor should she be. They left with goodbyes and good luck, though they kept the latter for Angel’s ears only. Amalia was grateful they had gotten back so quick with the supplies and she desperately wanted to wake EZ and give him the medicine as soon as possible but she knew he needed to rest, and decided it could wait until he wakes. 

The minutes ticked down as did the hours as she sat there, eyes trained on the rise and fall of her lover’s chest. For a time, she sat there caressing his face, allowing silent tears to stream down her own.  His forehead was covered with sweat, his temperature rising. She wiped at the beads of sweat with a wet rag, allowing the cold cloth to mildly ease his fever down. 

When dawn was nearing, Amalia found herself drifting in and out of consciousness, head resting on her arm that lay on the edge of the couch, her fingers intertwined with EZ’s. Her mind continued to torture her with fleeting visions of EZ dying on their sofa, blood pouring from his wounds, voice screaming in pain, echoing all around her. There were moments where she would wake with a start, eyes wide, squeezing his hand, running hers up and down his arm just to feel his warmth. To see he was still there with her. 

She continued these bouts of suffering as her body fought for her to sleep and it was only after the third nightmarish vision, she had of losing EZ that her mind rewarded her with a faint memory instead of a twisted dream. It was of a time when their relationship was new and fresh. Yearning, and anticipation reaching the cusp, they had finally given in to their desires. It was the beginning of everything, and that’s where her memory took her.  

Amalia’s body was wrapped in his arms, legs tangled together she couldn’t tell where she began and EZ ended. Her breathing was laboured, hands running up and down tracing the ridges of his chest. It was the night they had first slept together, though this moment was long after they enjoyed each other.

EZ had fallen asleep with his arm around her waist. Sleep didn’t come easy to Amalia that night. She was too buzzed with what they had done. She’d had sex before, and like EZ, she would have drifted off by now but that night everything felt different and it was as she continued laying there listening to his intake of breath, as his dreams consumed him, she soon realised why. 

“How do you feel,” she heard him murmur against her skin. 

“Amazing,” she whispered, a coy smile on her face, “but I thought you were asleep?”

Craning her neck, she turned to look up at EZ and found him just as she thought, fast asleep. It took everything in her to not burst out laughing. She felt ridiculous beyond belief. EZ was talking in his sleep. 

“I love you,” she froze, hand stilling on EZ’s cheek as she heard him speak those words they had never shared before.

“Te quiero, Amalia.” 

The memories were so intense, and powerful Amalia ended up crying herself awake. Though this time when she woke, she found EZ’s head turned towards her, eyes opened wide watching her. 

“You’re awake,” she said, voice cracking. 

“Barely.” he whispered back, wincing as he tried to move his body to face her more clearly. 

“Baby,” she whined, standing up and gently placing both her hands on his shoulders to keep him from moving, “you need to stay put.”

Her face hovered above his as she stood like that, trying to make her point as gently as possible. His eyes stared into hers not before taking in the look on her face, which happened to be wrought with anguish and exhaustion, cheeks tear stained with lips cracked and bleeding. He could only imagine what she had gone through within the past twenty-four hours. 

She didn’t say anything for a moment and neither did he. They just stared at one another. Observing the contours of one another’s faces, making sure to mark this moment in their memory. Though EZ had no problem with that, he never forgets. 

“How long have you been sitting there?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“All night,” she said as she pulled away to sit on the coffee table behind her, “I had to make sure you didn’t die. I wasn’t alone though.” She pointed to where Angel’s sleeping form laid on the recliner positioned to EZ’s right.  

“He refused to leave and kept nagging me to go to bed.”

“You should’ve listened to him.”

“And you wouldn’t have done the same thing? EZ we both know if the roles were reversed – if it were me on this couch right now, you wouldn’t have left my side either. Hell, you would’ve driven me to the hospital.” 

They were at a stalemate both knowing she was right. Both knowing nothing more could be said to contradict her statement. He was madly in love with this woman and wouldn’t live in a world where she didn’t. He would have also stayed.

“If I had lost you EZ, I-I I don’t think I could live with myself.”

She looked at him then and allowed all her despair and anger to seep its way out of her. To expose him to it. His body stilled and he tried to turn away not wanting to see what he put her through. But he looked and watched as she could finally breath in relief. It struck him suddenly – piercingly, as to how much he had put her through, and because of that he could have sworn he heart his heart begin to break. 

“I know,” he whispered, though he knew he would never truly know until he was in the same position. 

There wasn’t much that could be said for what happened. EZ knew he could apologise; profusely, however, it would do no good. What he brought to Amalia – what he put her through was something he knew would kill him had it been her bleeding, damaged body brought to his door step. If it were him who had to sew up her wounds. 

Throughout the day little to no words were shared between them. Though that didn’t mean anything sinister to their relationship. EZ knew once he was better, he could make it up to her and Amalia knew that nothing EZ did to hurt her was intentional. He didn’t ask to be shot. She knew what she was getting herself into when they started dating, hell, even before that. She knew who EZ was and she loved him anyway. 

__________________________

Four weeks later

“No fondling the help!” Amalia said, doing her best to swipe EZ’s wandering hands away which were trying to make their way up her skirt.  

He lay on their bed, wound still covered and healing. He was a lot stronger than that night. Since then, he had been out and about, though his nurse was strict and limited him when it came to wandering around. She was too afraid he would rip open his stitches.  

“It’s not my fault you’re so… sexy.”

Through his healing process Amalia found EZ’s sex drive, which had thus far been neglected, had grown, and at first, she was scared. Too afraid of hurting him, or injuring him further. Though as he began to heal, albeit, slowly, she allowed their nefarious activities to return – though they were limited. She could tell he wanted more than what she gave but she couldn’t quite get past that fear. 

The first time they had sex after the incident involved Amalia on top, hands on either shoulder, straddling EZ’s waist. His wound was still on her mind at all times, as was the fear. EZ couldn’t have cared less. He wanted inside and was willing to have his stitches tear if it meant getting what he wanted. 

She felt like a nervous teenager again who was about to lose her virginity, unsure of what to do with her hands. She was too afraid to put too much pressure on different parts of his body. Too afraid to hurt him. 

“You won’t kill me by touching me,” he said, hands gripping her waist as he ground the most sensitive part of her body onto his, “but not touching me, will.”

A small gasp left her mouth as he repeated the action again. It had been so long since they had touched each other like this, though she was still clothed. She wanted to give in and remove the fear from herself. She was close to doing so, especially when his fingers found her clit. He had moved her panties to the side and began rubbing the little nub slowly. 

EZ loved hearing the sounds that escaped as he teased her. He lay there looking up watching her as he continued to pleasure her, and allowed himself to ease a finger inside. 

“Fuck! EZ!”

He grinned, proud to hear his name on her lips and added another. He could feel the tension within her begin to build slowly as he picked up the pace, and knew she was close, but he was selfish. He wanted to be inside her when she came. 

Removing his fingers, he tried as best he could, withholding a wince, to push his cock inside her. By this point, Amalia had stilled already missing where his fingers had been, not expecting the intrusive entrance of his cock. 

“Ride me,” he rasped, “ride me hard.” 

She did as he begged, disregarding her previous fears.

She fucked him hard and fast, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing throughout the room. His pleasure was ecstasy and that made him numb to the pain. It made him lean forward gripping the back of her neck, pulling her head back so he could lavish her throat with his lips. With one hand on her waist, he allowed the other to find her breasts. He began to tease her nipples one at a time tweaking the little buds enjoying the sounds escaping her as he did so. Soon his mouth ventured down to her chest and gave it the same attention he did her throat. He left small purple bruises on her skin. Some that would have been easy to hide, others more difficult. 

The pressure was beginning to build inside them both, becoming more intense. It caused them to go harder and faster than they did before which Amalia did not think was physically possible. This meant that they had no rhythm. Not that they minded.  They just continued to thrust their bodies towards one another seeking the friction and pleasure they needed to get to the end. EZ’s fingers we back on her clit rubbing furiously, willing Amalia closer and closer to her orgasm. He wanted her to cum first, clenching herself on his cock as he had experienced in the past. He had missed this. Her. 

“Fuck EZ!” She was close, so close. 

“Come on baby,” he panted in her ear, urging her on. 

“I’ve got you,” he cooed, “just let go.”

And she did. 

She screamed his name, voice cracking as he continued to fuck her.

Her clit abandoned, he gripped her hips, fingers digging into her skin as he finally brought himself to climax. 

A loud moan escaped him, her name a whisper on his lips that he chose to repeat over and over again as his climax washed over him. His thrusts began to slow as they began to cool down. He brought his face closer to hers, forehead to forehead. Lips brushing each other’s.

“You’re bleeding.” She whispered. 

He looked down briefly and caught sight of his white bandage that now showed splotches of blood.

“It was worth it.” He grinned.

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