#Babybat X Reader

[undertale-writing-times]

I want to know about Nightmare and Blue's children! What would they do if a love interest of theirs came up to them one day with a bouquet of flowers?

And perhaps a basket of their favourite sweets, plus a brief message of: "I - uh - I just wanted you to know that I really like you and I'd love it if you'd go out on a date with me- but- but only if you want to, of course!"

My boys! :D(and girls)

I will say I have been thinking about adding new kids.

Midnight: Midnight most likely has to look down at you when you came over, tilting his head to the side then smiles putting his hand over his mouth, "Oh?" He was… shocked, honestly? Nobody has ever confessed their attraction to him before! With a little giggle, he takes the flowers and nuzzles his cheek against them, "I would love that, Y/n. I don't think I could ever turn you down" you two share the treats that you got him. He loves himself some chocolate covered strawberries!

Blackberry: Blackberry stares at you while you were talking, a small frown on his face. Don't ask him how he fell for you, he has no idea! There was no reason for him to have done so, but he did, and now you were confessing. He clicks his teeth together, looking off to the side. "You want to go on a date with me?" he asks, then breathes out slowly and takes the flowers, a relaxed smile on his face, "I… would greatly enjoy that, Y/n." He lowers his head, "Thank you" You helped him see that not everyone was out to get him.

Horror Story: Horror Story looks at you with a big eyesocket, the other covered in a deep blue goop. "Y-You…" he clears his throat, looking away, "Why would I want to do that?" he shuts his mouth tight, then takes the flowers and sweets, mumbling, "Of course I would, get over here" he's having a hard time admiting his feelings but he REALLY likes you! He loves that you don't fear him but you treat him well, and you're sweet to him. He's always scared of people treating him bad or something of that sort.

Periwinkle: "Of course I would love to!" She squeals, taking the flowers and treats in one of her arms, and hugs you with the other one, nuzzling her skull against your face. She's so happy! She's had a crush on you for a while, and she's been planning on asking you out but kinda forgetting so this was perfect! She's so happy.

Sleeper: Sleeper looks at you with sleepy eyes. Her eyesockets only halfway open, before getting a small relaxed smile, "I've known you've liked me for a while, Y/n. You haven't been hiding it that well" she takes the flowers, nuzzling her face into them. They were her favorite type! Lavender. "We can go out, it'll be fun" she's not that impressed but finds you cute, so hey, why not try?

Eclipse: Eclipse wanted to tell you no, and tell you to screw off. He had a crush on you, yes, but… you can't come out of nowhere and say that! Ahhhh! He, instead, breathes out slowly to calm himself down, blushing dark. The goop hid that, luckily. "You can't just come over to tell me that out of nowhere" He snaps, and takes the flowers, looking down at them. He turns his head away, moving one of his tentacles around your waist to pull you closer, mumbling, "Of course I'll go on a date with you, just give a damn warning next time"

Babybat: He gasps and before you could even finish what you're saying, he tackles you in a hug, his wings flapping happily, "Of course!" he nuzzles his face against yours, squeaking happily. His eyes were so bright and he looked excited. He might not have really knocked you over, depending on how much you could hold. He doesn't weigh anything pretty much.

[lloki]

Reader gets their wisdom teeth removed, and Mobius is there to take care of them ♡

word count: 757

You dreaded your wisdom teeth removal more than you had anything in your life, and that was really saying something. 

The only thing keeping your head on straight was your partner, Mobius. He was truly a gift, he knew exactly how to sooth you. Gentle touches and words that caused you to grin even when you were just about to be in tears. 

Even now, in the car ride to the dentist, he knew you needed music to focus instead of talking, so instead of words he held your hand firmly across the center console. Your hand shook near violently, but he kept you grounded the best he could. 

You had decided to go into the operating room on your own. You told Mobius that you were brave and could handle it, but the truth was you didn’t want him to worry, unable to help you. As you walked down the long hallway behind the dental assistant, a part of you wanted to run back into the waiting room and ask if he could come with, just to hold your hand, but you decided you had to be as brave as you said you were. 

The extractions went fine, your doctor and assistant were beyond kind and gave you plenty of time to be anxious. While they worked on you, you fidgeted with the ring Mobius had given you many months ago, and you were certain it was the only thing that got you through. 

When you walked out into the lobby, you found Mobius had been standing, possibly pacing. When he saw you his face lit up with relief, and then fell with worry once he saw how swollen your cheeks were. 

You gave him a weak smile and he crossed the room to take your hands in his, looking between your eyes when he spoke. “Hey, bunny. How was it?” 

Your tongue was numb and so were your lips, but you tried your best to muster a “it was okay, Mobius.” Though your lisp was very heavy, and it made Mobius smile. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you home.” 

The ride home, Mobius still held your hand just as firmly, though you were less shaken up than you had been before. Since you weren’t able to talk very easily, the ride home was still quiet aside from the radio and occasional hum coming from your partner. 

~~~

“Stay here,” Mobius said as he got out of the car. He rounded to your side and opened your door for you, helping you out. You wanted to tell him he was being silly, that it was your gums that hurt, not your feet, but you couldn’t help but love being pampered by him. 

As soon as you got inside and kicked off your shoes, Mobius led you to the bedroom where your favorite pajamas had been laid out for you. You didn’t remember him doing that before you left, he must have quietly done it while you were getting ready. You tried to smile but with numb lips, it didn’t come across as much. 

“You get changed, I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” 

After getting changed and putting on fuzzy socks that you found underneath your pajama shirt, you made your way to the living room to find Mobius had already set up a movie you loved on the tv. 

“I know your favorite part of movies is the popcorn, but that’ll have to wait for now.” 

You sat down next to him, cuddling into his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You took a deep breath through your nose, breathing in the clean citrusy-pine scent of him. You very carefully nuzzled your temple against his shoulder. 

“Popcorn is my second favorite part.” You barely made out, and Mobius smiled at the sound. 

“Oh yeah? What’s number one?”

“Being with you.” You batted your eyelashes up at him, and he chuckled before kissing your forehead. 

“What a coincidence, you’re my favorite part of any movie too.” He gave you a gentle squeeze and you let out a soft giggle. 

As the movie played in the background and the feel of your Mobius filled your senses, you couldn’t help but drift off to sleep. You weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep, but when you woke up, Mobius was asleep too. Your mouth wasn’t numb anymore, a smile effortlessly falling on your lips. Gently tucking your head back into his shoulder, you drifted back into your very comfortable sleep, feeling completely safe. 

[azsazz]

Sticking Together

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon Request: Could you possibly do an imagine where Azriels sons are training at the Illyrian camps? Please and thank you ❤️

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,209

_________________________________________

His stomach churns at the thought.

“No,” his tone is deathly serious, the finality in it sends shivers up your spine.

“Az–”

“I said no, and the fact that you’d even entertain this sick idea Rhys has is insane in itself.” He’s pacing the length of your bedroom, shadows hiding from his anger. You’d seen your mate aggravated before but never like this. He was protective over his sons, and rightly so.

You’d brought up the idea of having your two sons – Wren and Baz – train at the Illyrian camps. Azriel, Cassian, and Rhys all had, and being part Illyrian yourself, you thought it would be something he’d at least consider.

But Azriel was not having any of it. He’d seen those camps, lived through it firsthand, through the beatings, the scoldings, the pain and torture of it all and he would rather die than let his sons go through what he did.

It wasn’t all bad. In fact, he could very clearly remember the best parts, living with Rhys’ mother, how she’d take care of them but not too much, proving all of the leaders wrong with his abilities, the snowball fights with his friends that had become a brotherhood, banding together as the outcasts.

And that’s exactly what his sons would be, outsiders to the other children, worked harder than the rest, and he knew exactly how crushing it would be to his sons. They were still so young and wide–eyed and unknowing of the bad things in life. He didn’t want that to be taken away from them so early, didn’t want them to succumb to the harsh warcamps.

“They want to go,” you say softly from where you’re sitting on the bed. You had waited as long as you could to talk to your mate about this. They’d need to have some sort of training as they grew older, and Rhysand had thought long and hard about this, if he should allow his own son to go, but it was an important part of his life, and he wanted his son to be able to say that he was one of the strongest Illyrians, training with them and eventually going through the Rite when he was of age, as much as the thought of his son in that sort of danger sickened him.

“They don’t know what they want,” Azriel scoffs, running his fingers through his already disheveled hair. You knew that there was no use trying to stop him from pacing, he’d walk through the floor with worry before you’d stop him. “They’re kids.”

“Wren is nine years old,” you reason, “That’s the same age Rhys was when he went.”

He can’t help but shake his head at this nonsense. He’d known that this day would come, but he always thought that he and his brothers would train their sons in the comfort of their own homes. They didn’t need to be ridiculed and bullied at such a young age. 

He laughs dryly, “Since when does Rhys make the decisions on how we raise our kids?” 

“Azriel,” you reply sharply, and he winces, shooting you an apologetic glance. He sighs, ducking his head low and rounding the bed to your side. He perches next to you, head in his hands as you wrap your arms around him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he admits, voice strained as he tries to contain his feelings.

“I don’t like it either Az,” you murmur softly, taking one of his hands in your own and holding it tightly. He peeks at you from under the hair fallen in his face. “Maybe you should talk to Rhys about this, hear him out.”

He hums, shutting his eyes. He is so tired. He doesn’t want to deal with this, he wants to crawl right up into bed beside you but the both of you know he won’t be able to sleep until he’s found his reasoning.

He kisses you goodnight tenderly on the lips before winnowing off to meet with his brothers. 

__________

“You really think this is a good idea?” he sighs, taking a swig from this third glass of spirits. He’d found his brother in a similar state, a freshly opened bottle settled upon the low table beside him on the porch of the House of Wind, brows furrowed in thought.

Cassian snorts from his spot beside him on the large lounge, wings splayed wide with the cool breeze slipping across his wings. He stares down into his own glass, the red from the siphon in the center of his chest gleaming against the already amber liquid. “Good idea? Why would I think that this is a good idea?”

Even the greatest Illyrian he knew was against this, so why were they actually considering going through with it?

“I don’t want them to end up like this,” he admits, only because the liquor has loosened him up, “Like me.”

They’re waiting for Rhys to arrive, only extending the offer to meet them after he’d asked Cassian about his true thoughts, his only child being sent off into the Illryian camps.

His brother punches him in the arm, hard. Azriel glares at Cassain, shaking off the spilled liquid that had sloshed over the rim of the glass.

“Nothing is wrong with you Azriel.” His voice is firm, commanding like he’s ordering his troops into war. It calms him, in a way, the comforting and confident assertiveness of his brother's voice as he forces himself to keep eye contact. “You are a hell of a male, and an amazing fucking father to your children. They love you so much.”

“I just don’t understand why they would want to go?” he sighs, breaking eye contact first, leaning forward to snag the bottle on the table before them. He refills his own glass, then Cassian’s after his brother downs the last of his.

The warlord's smile is grim, motioning for the shadowsinger to keep pouring, “That’s the thing about our sons,” he sighs, “They want to be just like their fathers.”

__________

Rhysand arrives when his brothers are well into their second bottle.

He feels a pang in his chest as he fills the remaining glass left out for him, taking a hearty swig. He wishes he were as far in as they were for this conversation. It was going to be a tough one, and he knew that they were upset with him.

“Started without me I see,” he says coolly, flexing his own wings he was sporting tonight as he settles onto the lounge across from them.

He’d needed the fly here to prepare for this. He’d known his brothers would be angry, which is exactly why he’d chosen to talk to their mates instead, reason with them so they could help convince their brothers. You had been easier to talk to than Nesta, who had finally lightened up over the years since they’d all had children. You were part Illyrian, had seen the war camps before, but you were not born with the gift of wings, hadn’t lived in Illyria growing up, but you understood the High Lord’s precaution.

“Look who it is Az,” Cassian elbows the shadowsinger lightly, “The male who wants to send our children off to the war camps.”

Rhysand flinches. He deserves it, he really does, but all he wants is the chance to explain himself.

Maybe not talking directly to his brothers in the first place was where he’d gone wrong.

He’s glad that they’d chosen a neutral place to meet. The House of Wind was empty tonight, Nesta and Gideon staying with Feyre and Nyx after having a nice dinner with them and Elain.

“They don’t have to go,” Rhys protests, but Cassian is already responding before he can get another word out.

“Of course they have to go! Have you seen the four of them do anything without the others? It’d be like the ultimate betrayal keeping them apart.”

And the three of them fall into silence, thinking about when Rhysands father had done exactly that. They’d been separated before, and although it did not bode well for anyone around them, they’d fought tooth and nail to get back to each other. 

It had surely been hell.

“I want Nyx to learn about the Illyrian in his blood and Feyre agrees,” Rhys explains to the males across from him. He’d been their High Lord for years now, but all of a sudden he’s unable to look them in the eyes, the amount of guilt he feels over this conversation causes him to down the rest of his glass.

“What’s next?” Az asks, slumped back against the soft cushions behind him, “You want Zuzu out there? I won’t have it Rhys, I won’t let my little girl go out there.”

And nothing has really changed since they’d all left. Wing clipping had been made illegal but the Lords of the camps always found ways and likely always would. He shuddered at the thought of his gorgeous niece or even the daughter he’d hoped to have someday having to go through that.

“Do you think that lowly of me, brother?” His voice is clearly hurt, soft but serious, the words striking their target in the heart.

“I don’t,” Azriel says, shaking his head, and means it. He should stop drinking, he thinks, so he abandons his glass on the table between them. “What is this really about, Rhys?”

“I know it sounds stupid, but I want Nyx to have that experience, as harrowing as it was for us. It taught me so much, and to be able to make sense of his heritage, of his grandmother and my sister–” he chokes up, rolling his empty glass between his fingers, “Feyre wants him to have that too. She wants him to see the human realm, to show him her story. And both will be hard, painful, but this is how we want to raise him. I don’t expect either of you to understand or go along with it.”

But how could they not understand? Both Rhys and Feyre had lost so much, and if this was how they chose to teach their son about where he came from, neither Azriel or Cassian could say different.

“Well I’m not letting Nyx go through that alone,” Azriel decides, giving Rhys a soft smile, “Just like I didn’t let you go through it alone.”

“Well shit,” Cassian groans from next to them, finishing the last of the bottle, “If they’re all going, Gideon would hate to be left out.”

__________

It’s decided then, Nyx, Wren, Baz, and Gideon will all be attending the Illyrian camps for training. 

The mated pairs would take shifts staying in Rhys’ mothers old house at Windhaven, caring for the children. They weren’t to be coddled or guarded, the cousins would be thrown into the harsh Illyrian ways with no upper hand, just like their fathers were.

It was heartbreaking, the children huddled behind their fathers’ legs, peeking out only to catch the sneers of the Lord’s and other Illyrians their ages. Children could be cruel, Gods only knew, but this, this was truly going to be something else.

It was all you could do to keep to yourself inside of Rhys’ mother’s house, the rest of your family accompanying as well. It was tense and quiet for most of the day, all of you wondering if this had been the right decision for your sons.

The only distraction you had from your worries was your other two children, Zuzu playing with her toys, showing her little brother how to stack the blocks by color order. 

Az’s shadows were the only tell of what your sons and their cousins were going through out there. Your mate was a mask of calm as usual, his face didn’t give away anything. He could be out there if he wanted to, he was the spymaster afterall, but he couldn’t do that to his sons. 

He let his High Lord see what they were going through, the insults that had already been fired at them, the wooden swords heavy in their soft hands, not yet calloused and hardened with training. The other children were years ahead of them, and Azriels hands clenched into fists when Baz took a particularly nasty swipe across the brow from a child twice his size. 

Oh his blood boiled when his son cried out for his mother at the sight of his blood dribbling down his face and was scolded by the trainer for being weak. It was something they’d learn quickly, not to cry, because the punishments were much much worse when they did.

But his older brother and cousins had come to defend him, pushing the other boy away and yelling at him, leveling his sword at him with warning. Az had seen his sons play with pretend swords before, and they had watched their fathers in the training rings on a few occasions, but he hadn’t thought they’d picked up on what they were doing.

Watching Wren and his cousins defend Baz, practice sword pointed at the other child with confidence has pride surging through his blood.

They’d be alright after all.

[keeponquinning]

Here with Me — The Pros and Cons — Part One

Joseph Quinn x Latina!Fem!Novelist!Reader — RPF — 18+

word count — 19.5k

summary — it's your birthday weekend and you're working. at the local con in LA, so things could be worse. you have your friends with you, as you're going through a dry spell, creatively. in between signings and a lot of nothing to do, you go to the nearby bar with your friends to kill the time before your late night panel with your peers and one trip from your table to the bar? well... that's the start of everything....

warnings — first off, RPF!! if not your thing, scroll! be nice, if thinking of being mean, think twice! i hope that rhymed. no smut in this chapter, though there are adult talk, cursing, reader is latina ( that shouldn't be a warning but kinda a heads up ) and there is some talk of that. bit of a surprise guest near the end ( think big blue eyes ) mention of porn. reader has a personality, if that's not your thing.... I understand. i tried to make this as entertaining as possible, no use of y/n. bit of mama joe and also a bit of pervy joe, but loads of charming joe.

notes — god, this was a LONG time coming. i'm trying to concentrate on this series, so i'll be working on part two as soon as i post this, but slowly. editing for the first time was fun, def added and changed a few stuff. so i hope it flows a bit nicer. i hope ya'll like this, it was fun to write and share with a few friends, shout out to @quinnypixie as being my beta in the way of me sending pages bc i'm a slut for comments and validation lmao saying that, please leave a comment if you liked this!! I appreciate the likes, of course, but nothing makes me more giddy than comments. only if you want, of course, but if you're feeling shy, so don't be! i wanna hear your guys take on this. i have total tinkerbell syndrome, i need applause to LIVE. enjoy guys!

tagging — @babybluebex , @quinnypixie , @inourtownofhawkins , @musicoverall , @seatnights , @figmentofquinn , @birdysaturne, @tomhollandseyes , @notverywise , @live-love-be-unique , @shanalynnphotos , @mmunson86 , @haylaansmi , @cestpresqueparfait , @iaminlovewithdilfs , @anaofthebarricade , @wolfiescosplay , @ailathealternate , @maximus2354, @j0qw , @missonlypost , @stabthecrab , @hanavakiih , @mrsmunsonxquinn , @rhapsodicaesthete , @elain00 , @drawdownthem00n , @munson-enthusiast , @roset01 , @alyssaaaaa-r , @josephmunson99 , @munsonsgirl71 , @ariegoldhouse , @rainbowbubbles9 , @justheretoreadleavemealone , @muns0nslov3r , @bluegalaxyprime , @k-corbett , @eddiemunsonsrighttoe , @rememberwhen-it-rained , @thoughtsoftheantagonist , @pvssy-destroyer , @joescigarettes , @jasminearondottir , @joeqluver , @babybat-95

( note, some of you i tried to tag but your blog wouldn't show up, if anyone knows a fix for this, let me know! )

wanna be tagged? click here and like the masterlist!

It always strikes you as odd that a big wall of noise could drive you crazy anywhere else — except at a bar and grill. Then, it seems comforting, almost, the sounds of clinking glasses, laughter… The floating of bits of conversation slithering into your ear, heard, but not quite understood. There was an odd sense of comfort to it, the scents of food wafting in the air as well, which made you thankful for the food in front of you.

The food that was intended to be shared was most definitely not.

How annoying.

“Why are you guys sleeping on the loaded fries?” came your voice, after scarfing down yet another forkful and chased it with a coke. Looking at your friends, sticking to their own plates of mozzarella sticks and onion rings, you let out a laugh. “I’m gonna end up eating this whole damn plate and then hearing about me being greedy and not sharing, you know this.”

Your brows raised at your best friend and her fiancé, their dishes having been shared with each other, half and half. “I’m feeling like you’re putting me down for my love of fries with,” you paused, plucking a clean edged one, “...creamy nacho cheese sauce, bacon, scallions, and mm, sour cream.” Popping it into your mouth, you lean back in your seat, the sounds of the bar swirling around you, chuckling softly. “What gives?”

Jen, your best friend, rolled her eyes. “You think I don’t want some?”

“You haven’t reached at all for it, not commented on it, nothing, which is unusual for you, wench.”

“Oh, I want some. I want some so bad! But…” She leaned back, dipping her mozzarella stick in marinara, “I’m being good, and leaving your plate alone. No mooching food from the birthday girl, that’s my rule.”

Ah. Right. There was that. A smile stretched across your face as you watched her bite and pull the mozzarella stick away, impressed by the cheese pull. “How uncharacteristically kind of you.”

“It was my suggestion,” the male voice of Gerry piped up. “Trust me, she would have demolished it by now if I didn’t.” 

“It looks so good,” Jen concurred, shaking her head. “We’re getting one.” Dusting her hands together. “Gerry, we’re getting one and we’re splitting.”

Gerry raised his brows, “Meaning… I get a few and it’s mainly you.” 

“Obviously,” his fiancée let out, as if there was even a need to question it. 

You chuckled, feeling a bit brighter with your friends there. Jen and Gerry being more like a lifeline when you really needed it. And today? This weekend? You most definitely did. “What about we get some sliders, too? I still got… One panel later. The late panel, the spicy panel, so I gotta get my wit on high and I can’t do that if I’m hungry. And fries, as lovely as they are… Won’t cut it.” 

“How was it?” Jen asked, taking one of Gerry’s onion rings, dipped in ranch before taking a bite. 

“The signing?” Once she nodded, you let out a sigh, sinking back into your seat. “I… It was okay. I mean, it’s pretty awesome that people still read my books. Even bringing physical copies, I fucking love that, but…” A groan left you, tilting your head up toward the ceiling. “God, I wish I had something more substantial to say when they ask me when’s the next book coming out or…if I’m working on something. Instead of just putting on that forced smile and whipping out an upbeat, ‘we’ll see!’ I almost wanna admit I have nothing, but half-baked ideas and blank pages and I actually have no idea when or if that’s ever gonna change.” 

And that was the rub of it. The reason you had wished you skipped the convention this time around. You loved them, usually. Loved meeting your readers, talking and discussing the industry and process with your fellow writers — most of whom you admired and couldn’t believe they even knew you. But the fact you had nothing but your past books to draw from, no new content to share, it was starting to weigh heavily on you. Not feeling as active as you should be. You felt as if you were letting everyone down — and, oh yeah, it was your birthday. Nothing like a birthday to really hammer in the fact that more time has passed and nothing to show for it. 

You felt a heavy boot, the heel nudging your foot harshly enough to let out a soft cry. Furrowed brow lifted, narrowing your eyes at Gerry. “Ow. What the fuck, dude?” 

Brushing back his long, dark locks from his face, he leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him. “You know you’re going to do it, right?” he asked, eyeing you. “It’s not like you’re sitting around and doing nothing, you’re active. You come up with ideas — half baked, yeah, but they’re ideas. Do you know how many songs end up in the trash bin before I even play it for the other guys? So many. It’s the same thing, those half-written stories you scrap, there just hasn’t been a story that stuck, that’s worth reaching toward an end. It’ll come, it’s not like a hobby for you, we all know that. You just gotta remember that for yourself.” 

Jen looked impressed, smiling at Gerry, brushing her fingers through his hair. “He’s right, you know,” she added, looking at you. “C’mon, Wench, I know it’s been….”

“Two years,” you finish for her, brows rising. “It’s been two fucking years…” 

“Yeah, okay, it’s been two fucking years. It happens, okay? It doesn’t mean anything—”

Oh, God, you thought and instinct took over, leading you to stand up from the table, a quick, “Yup, I’m gonna get those fries and sliders, yeah? Another round of drinks?”

Jen looked at you, crossing her arms in front of her, tilting her head. “I fucking know you. This is a rough patch, a dry spell, things that are temporary…” Trying hard for you to listen, brows raised. “You got this.”

In your head, or at least in some small part, you knew she was right. That they both were right. It wasn’t just empty words being used to placate you; they knew you. Always honest with you, never were they the people that would bullshit you just to build you up and have nothing to back it up. Self-doubt was a bitch, though, and instead of taking it to heart, you took a deep breath, put on a smile and said, “We’ll see.” Pushing yourself away from the table, ignoring the furrowed brow on Jen, pointing to the glasses in front of them, “Another round, loaded fries and sliders.” 

With a sigh, she gave a nod, “Yeah, yeah that sounds good. This talk isn’t over, but I’ll let it slide for your birthday.”

You let out a laugh, giving a nod. “Very kind of you, Wench.” Smiling at them both, you turn toward the bar and head off. “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she called out, leaning back in her seat. “Okay, what are we gonna do with her?”

Light colored eyes looked over at her, lifting his hand to gesture between them, “...this. What we’re doing now.”

Brows rose at that, challengingly at him. “...and that would be…?”

Giving her a shrug, he said, quite simply, “Being here. Encouraging…” Leaning over to her, equally as challenging as she was. “...but not forcing it.” 

A heavy sigh left your best friend's lips, knowing Gerry was right, but not liking it. “Yeah, okay,” she relented, eyeing your plate with a handful of fries, letting out a huff as she pulled the plate towards herself. She met Gerry’s raised brows, raising her own, “What? She’s getting more, this doesn’t count,” taking a forkful and into her mouth with a moan. “I knew it. So good.” 

He laughed, shaking his head, plucking one of his onion rings. 

It was crowded, it was summer, the tail end of it where it lingered longer than anyone would have liked and yearned for the fall — though pumpkin spice would be on everyone’s mind early anyway. The first day of the convention weekend, as well, made the bar crowded and buzzing with excitement from its patrons. There was some pity for those heavy in costume, the layers of clothing would not do well with the insistent heat, though you found yourself admiring the wardrobe anyway. Still, you were grateful for the summer attire of cut off jean shorts, a tank top and — a flannel shirt you wore open that was currently sitting at the back of your chair at your table with your friends. It was worn more for modesty’s sake during the afternoon when you were in work mode, but the heat of the weather and the people buzzing around you? Fuck modesty, you were hot. 

Your ankle boots were probably not the smartest choice, admittedly, and you hated cliches, however… They were your favorite pair, your cutest pair, and it was your birthday, so you wanted to indulge. Remarkably comfortable with the heel, thank the retail gods for padded cushions at the balls of your feet, but it did make getting across a room of crowded people…difficult. 

Twisting and turning to swerve and weave in between, your lips in a constant state of letting out sorry and excuse me, sorry, you started to curse at yourself for doing this on your own. Hindsight is a bitch like that, you’re finding. You smile helplessly as you pass by a couple, one dressed as Geralt of Rivia and Yennefer, quite notably, before turning and that’s when it happened. An uneven crack on the floor, just inches from the bar, and the toe of your treasured booties? Yeah, hit right smack into it, making your body lurch forward. The worst fear hitting you, much like the floor would be soon, you were going to eat it. You were going to fall and smack your head on the floor. Fuck. Fuck. In a crowd of people who, coincidentally, seemed to have parted because suddenly all you could feel was air. 

And then a strong pair of arms, steady hands and warm chest. 

Suddenly you weren’t meeting the floor but standing upright with unsteady feet still firmly on the ground. Strong hands were holding you along your waist, your hands gripping tight onto pair forearms, heart racing, mind reeling. Did that just happen? Jesus Christ. You leaned forward, plush against his chest. Very warm, broad shoulders, crisp linen buttoned shirt and… Smelling really good, not recognizing the scent, male cologne, sort of woodsy with a bit of citrus. A sharp contrast to the scent of lavender and vanilla of some off brand  perfume you got from Amazon. His scent, it even smelled of a big brand, expensive bottle, the ones you’d never bring yourself to buy yourself. But it smelled really good. 

“Shit, you okay?” came his voice, sounding warm yet concerned, but the accent was what you cling onto the most. As it always did when you heard an accent clearly not American. “You almost—”

“Yeah, yeah, that…” Your eyes widened, straightened your back, eyes flashing to his for a mere second before looking at the bar, brows raising. “Oh god, if I tripped… If I fell…” Taking a deep breath, realizing your earlier thought of hitting the floor was off the mark, in actuality… “Oh, I would have hit my head right smack at the edge. I would’ve died. I would have bled, it would have been such a mess around all these people, oh, that would’ve been embarrassing.”

He gave a snort, and if you looked up, you would have seen his brows raised and an amused smile stretch over his face. “...I… I’m not sure embarrassing would be quite the word. Traumatic, horrible, something along those lines, surely...”

But you shook your head, “No, no, if I were to die on my birthday, that would be an irony that I would be known forever about, and I can’t have that,” you ended with a soft laugh, bringing your eyes to his face, your savior, and you find him chuckling at that, lips stretched wider in a smile and eyes, a chocolate brown, twinkling with what you hope is amusement.

And that’s when you really look at him, the brown curls which on top sat his shades. Big, brown eyes, that chocolate brown looking at you with raised brows, scruffy beard making him seem more… You didn’t know what, but you liked it. “...fair point,” he conceded, letting out an airy laugh, giving a nod. “That… I still don’t know about it being embarrassing, but the irony, that, yeah, I could see that. Erm, happy birthday, glad I was here so we could avoid all that.”

“I…” You had escaped death, but realizing who had saved you from that death was making you a bit more insane in your head. Smiling wide, giving a nod, “Yeah, that… Um… Thank you, for that, that was… Kinda saved my life — No, you did save my life, there’s no kinda about it. I… Um…” A laugh erupted from your lips, shaking your head. “... Hi.”

He smiled wider, chuckling softly, “Hi.”

Licking your lips, you clear your throat, and… You’re cringing a bit, because you recognize him. You fully do. There was no real question about it, as you looked at him, you knew. But… There will always be a part of you that had to ask, that needed confirmation. So, you had to ask. “You’re um…” Nodding your head, “Y’know, from uh…”

He exhaled, giving a nod, giving you the impression that he’s been through this before. You hoped he wouldn’t be a dick about it. “Yup, yeah, that’s me.”

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool…” You paused, trying to suppress a laugh. “It would be… Really lame for me to whip out, ‘Glad you didn’t run away this time’, wouldn’t it?”

Chocolate brown eyes widened, lips twitching into a laugh you could tell he wanted to let out. “Oh, yes, that… That would have been awful and truly embarrassing, I’d allow the usage of the word to describe it. Definitely.”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, nodding further, “Yeah, just what I thought.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t.”

“Good thing I didn’t.”

“Oh. So good.”

“So…” you let out, looking up at him, “Do I call you Joe or Joseph?”

“Erm…” He paused for a moment, furrowing his brow in thought, looking to seriously ponder on that. “Well…” His shoulders rose in a shrug, “I dunno. Erm… Whatever you want, I guess. Not… averse to either, honestly.” He let out a soft chuckle, “Dealer’s choice.”

“My choice? Cool, love that for me. Um…” Smacking your lips lightly, giving a decisive nod. “Well… I think Joseph works well — works for me, anyway…”

Giving a nod, he hummed, “I like Joseph. My mum calls me Joseph. So — Oh. Erm, not that you’re like my mum. I mean, not like… I dunno…” His brows furrowed, as if rethinking what had spilled from his mouth. “You don’t think it’s an insult, yeah, that I said you’re not like my mum? Or… Is it like… God, you seem lovely, just… Didn’t want you to think that I…” His brows furrowed further, seeming to confuse himself. “Trying not to say you’re beneath my mum in my standards or in my head, but also not wanting to seem like I think low of my mum or that I compare people to my mum on a daily basis, because god, that’s fucking weird, isn’t it…?” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Yeah, no, I’m…. I don’t know where I was going with that…”

Your smile widened with every word that fell from his lips, chuckling deep enough that your shoulders shook and enough to feel his fingers clench around your waist. “You’re cute. And sweet to not want to devalue your mom to an absolute stranger.’

He snorted at that, “God, like your brits bumbling, then?”

“Well,” you started, lifting your brows at him, “To be fair, that is how Hugh Grant started his career.”

It was his turn to raise his brows, a mockery of hope in his expression, “Are you saying that I could be the next Hugh Grant?”

“I mean…” you started, lips stretched the widest you could remember in a long time, “With those big chocolate button eyes, you definitely…maybe have the potential to be. I’m just saying!”

Those same chocolate button eyes widened at your words, your own eyes catching sight of his dimples as his own lips stretched just as wide as yours, a laugh bursting from those lips, “How do you know about my chocolate button eyes?” Raising a challenging brow, he leaned forward just a bit. “Have you been talking to my mum? Is this a set up? She’s been asking when I’m about to settle down…”

A laugh escaped you, “Are you saying I’m the type of girl your mum would want you to settle down with? I dunno, that’s kinda forward, we just met.”

There was something in his smile, those same brown eyes looking over at you as he gave in to a snicker, shaking his head, “No. Sorry, that is… You’re right, that would be insane, we just met. Under…quite…unique circumstances.” His brow furrowed, “Are you okay? Have I asked that already? Bit rude if I didn’t…”

“Yes, you did. Or… I think your words were, ‘Shit, you okay?’ which I understand to mean as a very British way to ask that very question.” You smiled, giving a nod. “You’re good. And…so am I.” Your hands give his arms a gentle squeeze. “Actually… I’m so good that… You could probably let go of me now.” In an attempt to take away any offense, you blurt out, “Not that it hasn’t been nice, being held by you like this, but um… Yeah, I’m… I’m good. My feet’s steady, so… You don’t… Y’know…have to keep holding me steady.”

“Oh. God, right, right,” he said immediately, his hands flying up and away from you. A smirk to his lips as he held out his hands, palms facing you, a boyish giggle leaving him. “That’s… Sorry, I didn’t even know that I was still…” Pocketing his hands, he let out a huff as he watched you settle and wrap your arms around yourself. “Well, there we go. Erm… I am glad you’re okay, that was…” He shook his head, “Yeah, that could’ve ended badly. I’m glad I was around, y’know, to prevent your very untimely demise.” You both shared a small laugh at that, but then he furrowed his brow, looking around in mild concern. “Really is maddening that… Despite being surrounded by so many people and none of them, not one person, went to help or even come to ask if you’re okay…”

“Oh, I did notice that, yeah,” you responded while looking around you, a small little offended glare in place. “Welcome to America, I guess. Bunch of rude fuckers. People’s phones would be out, recording my death and no doubt, I’d be all over everyone’s for you page via TikTok and so not in the way that would be welcomed.”

A light scoff left his lips, “Is there any other way on TikTok? I mean…” His shoulders raise in a shrug, “I dunno, I’m not on it, but it doesn’t seem quite appealing, does it?”

It was said so innocently, so casually, your lips stretching into a smile and eyes flickering with amusement. You could have fun with this, his statement sounding so… Almost boomer of him, despite the young age in comparison to actual boomers. Which only brought on further amusement in your eyes. “Not a fan?” starting off casually. Trying to ascertain how bad this could be.

“Well…” he started, brows raised a bit as his hand reached for the back of his head, scratching his neck. “Not that I ventured much into it, but…” He gave a shrug, “It’s just dances, isn’t it? Like I said. Not very appealing.”

You couldn’t help it. The roll of your eyes came immediately as did the laugh from your lips. “Oh, God, it is not all dancing. There’s so much more to it, it’s all sorts of things. All sorts of content from all kinds of creators. Actors doing skits, some they wrote, some they didn’t, or even just jumping on a trend that showcases their acting skills or recreations of famous scenes from movies, shows… Their interpretation of it, even if it’s lip synching, it’s them. Musicians showcasing their music by either remixing,” You paused a moment, raising your brows, letting out a soft laugh. “…which you know a lot about remixes, I’m sure…”

He gave a deep hum, giving a nod, “Yeah, yeah, more than I care for, admittedly…”

“Right, well, there’s that and singing, performing, either putting out a song or performing it live. Editors, doing video edits of either original material or… Or even video edits of their favorite shows, movies, actors… Artists? Speed drawing videos showing their skills and how a sketch turns to an actual fucking piece of art. Because not all artists can get their work in a gallery, but they can post a video on a platform that will literally show up on people’s screens,” a soft laugh escaping, and you saw how he smiled, tilting his head and looking at you as you spoke. “And then there’s cooking — you’re a foodie, right?”

“I…” he started, his smile growing as he gave a nod. “Yeah, yeah, I… I consider myself a foodie, sure. That’s on TikTok as well?”

Lips stretched across your face as you gave an earnest nod, “Yes. The good and the bad. Cooking food, sharing recipes, rating dishes or restaurants—shops, like… It’s such a tool for small businesses and in this fucked up economy, it’s so needed. And...” You hesitated a moment, before giving in to a reluctant nod, “It’s helped writers as well. Promoting their books, sharing their writing, connecting with readers and… You know, that stuff. And aside from content creators, the art of it, there’s simply fans of all of it, discussing all of it, connecting with others discussing it. I don’t know if you’ve considered that part but…” You let out a sigh, “Whether you grew up having to hide just things you like or never really recovering from the isolation we all felt during the start of the pandemic…” Shaking your head, “Connecting with others over things you love, or just even things or people you like… Without judgement, it’s so important. Also serving to just… Y’know, give yourself a voice. Not just about entertainment but… Just life and how it can knock you down. Pick you up. The fucked-up parts that traditional media is just never going to give you a chance to scream at the world, people on the app do. They’re given that chance, and they take it, and it’s great. And if you’re feeling down, there’s people that use the platform to pick you right up.”

Tilting his head, a bit, the corner of his lip let out a smirk, “So… Definitely not just dancing then?”

You laughed, shaking your head, “No, no, Mr. Quinn, not just dancing. And the fact that people are so quick to just boil it down to just dancing is… Not only ridiculous but fucking reductive. Yeah, it has some big downsides to it. Like any other form of social media, there’s toxicity and negative impacts and even people manipulating other people. A narrative that doesn’t align with the truth, but then —”

“That…is most social media.” His nose scrunched a bit, “Well… In the name of all transparency… Not just social media, but… Traditional media as well. Interviews and misquotes running amuck… I guess it’s not any better or worse.” His lips nudge to the side as his shoulders give in to a shrug. “I suppose I shouldn’t have downplayed it, especially since I didn’t know much about it… Until now, of course.” He looked at you with a smile, “You’re uh… You’re quite passionate, aren’t you?”

 Once again, you laughed, softly as the flash of your teeth showed in your smile. “Bit too much, huh? I, uh… I get like that, sometimes. A lot of people kinda reduce that to my assumed Latina temper flaring up. Or my spice. Y’know, quick to think it’s anger or me blowing a fuse and basically boiling it down to some… Perceived… I don’t know…” You were trying to find a neutral way to say it, to not sound like you were going to go on another tangent. But you were struggling.

But he seemed to understand, with the way his brown eyes took you in, taking a deep breath and let out a gentle smile. “I didn’t see a… I guess those people would say…” His lips in a light grimace, nose scrunching again, and brows furrowed. “…an angry woman…”

“…an angry Latina woman… That part’s important…”

“Right. So important… But… No, no. Not hot blooded or…flying off the handle…”

“Ready to grab a chancla and aim for the head…”

Lips twisting to a wide grin as a snicker left his lips, shaking his head, “No, no, none of that… Nothing as… I can only assume reductive or downright patronizing as all that.” Slipping his hands into his pockets of his jeans, he shrugged, “I just… I saw someone passionate about what she was talking about because… Well… I was belittling a whole platform. Very dismissive. Bit of a dick, actually, now that I think ‘bout it?” You both shared a laugh at that, “Erm… Which…” Lifting his hand over his heart, “I am sorry about… But even as you spoke, you… You were passionate because you cared. And… That’s such a good thing, y’know? You don’t…get a lot of that. A lot of caring and not like a bleeding heart kinda caring, it’s um…” Sucking in his breath, he shook his head, “I dunno. But just… Caring. I… I liked watching that, the whole thing.”

“You…” your brow arched, “You did? I… Thank you… So, not too much?”

Shaking his head, “No! Fuck, no. Nothing like that, absolutely no worries there. Almost makes me want to give it a chance — almost.” Reaching toward his back pocket, taking out a lighter and pack of cigarettes, “Oh, and fuck anyone that sees something like that and make you seem… Like a stereotype like that. I can’t… I can’t even imagine how fucking frustrating that is.” He chuckled, “Most of you, American lot, just think I’m adorable, or precious so…”

“Oh,” you started with a light chuckle. “Right, all baby girl and shit.”

His big brown eyes widened as his brows lifted, and an almost sorrowful look on his face. “Oh, God… No, they’re not… Not baby girl…” Letting out a sigh, looking at you in such dismay. “Surely not. No — Keery, maybe, but I—”

“Mm, afraid so. I think it’s the big brown doe eyes that gets the baby girl treatment.”

He huffed dramatically, puffing his cheeks as he did so, shaking his head. “Doe eyes? What, like Bambi eyes? Well, that’s… These damn chocolate button eyes… That’s disappointing. Well, no, it’s… It’s sweet I guess but…”

He furrowed his brow. “Baby girl? Really? I know the accent and the constant apologizing gets erm… Well, the whole, ‘oh, isn’t he precious?’ treatment, I get that, but…” He let out a sigh, leaning toward you. “I’m manly. Like clearly, I’m manly as hell.”

He watched as you handled that for about a split second before the snicker came rolling out of you.

His eyes widened as your eyes closed as you smiled wide, an actual laugh coming out. “Oi! No!” he let out, though you could hear the faintest trace of a chuckle in his tone. “Don’t laugh! You can’t be laughing at that, now. I am manly. I saved you, didn’t I?”

“I’m sorry!” you let out, still fighting back some laughs. “I’m not questioning your manliness, I swear, but… It is a little precious you’re so offended at the baby girl thing.”

He huffed out a laugh, teeth biting at the corner of his lower lip. “Well, not so much offended but… I dunno. Not exactly cool, is it? Not very impressive to be known as… Baby girl or… Being thought of… I’m a grown man.”

“No, no, I get that…” you relent, laughter subsiding, your eyes trailing over him. Part of you not quite believing it’s him, but the fact that Joseph Quinn was looking at you and not only that, was engaging in conversation, was ridiculous. But not unwelcomed. “Well, if it means anything, you are…deceptively buff, which is sort of making me question things.”

His grin was dangerous as he looked at you, eyes trailing towards his arms, the bicep mostly. You couldn’t help but notice the almost overly pleased look on his face as he went, “Yeah? Impressed, yeah? By the pythons?”

“Oh, god, okay…” You’re pleased that he snickers at his own words, “No one said anything about pythons. Let’s tone it down a little, but yes. I dunno, I guess with Eddie, I just thought you were…”

“Skinnier?” he supplied, allowing you to nod. “Fair. I mean, I was. Went on…a not fun diet to lose that weight and…” He gave a shrug, a chuckle escaping him. “Two years of my fucking life and I loved doing it, but erm…” He nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, like being able to eat what I want nowadays,” letting out a soft groan, “Which… I’m really taking advantage these days. Especially here, at this place, the food—”

“Shit!” you let out, surprising you both. “Fuck. I was coming over here to order more food for my table.” Surprised that Jen and Gerry didn’t come looking for you, though you supposed your plate of fries were demolished by now. “Completely forgot. That’s…”

“Oh, you’re with someone?” he asked, and if your mind wasn’t hazy, you would have detected the slightly disappointed tone in his voice. His eyes flickering over you, cautious. “Like….?”

“My friends— Best friends, in fact. Who are…probably pissed I’m taking so long.” He seemed to relax at that, almost looking relieved, an observation you didn’t put much thought to, turning toward the counter, making eye contact with the bartender. “Hey! Plate of loaded fries, beef sliders and two cokes and one sparkling water with lime, please?” The bartender giving you a nod, making you heave a sigh of relief. “Can’t believe I flaked about that; it was literally the only reason I came over here.”

“Well, to be fair, you did almost die,” he let out, smiling a bit and lighting up his cigarette, finally, it seemed. Taking a deep inhale, smoke flew past his lips, away from you. “I’m sure they’ll understand and at least you didn’t forget completely.” Pausing a moment, he lifted his pack of cigarettes, “Sorry, do you…?”

“No, no, I don’t,” you watched as he froze, holding his cigarette in front of his lips and the familiar look of guilt on his face. “Oh, but you can, I’m not… I’m not bothered by it if you do. Seriously, I’m not gonna go into the dangers of smoking.” With a soft smile, you added, “You’re a grown man, after all. A manly man.”

He snorted, “Fuck off.”

“Aw! So precious.”

Joseph’s grin stretched further, his brown eyes looking at you with a spark of amusement though he tried his best to look stern. Taking a drag of the cigarette, blowing away from you. “You’re funny.”

“That’s what they tell me.”

“Well, because you are.” His shoulders giving you a little shrug, “It’s good. I…” A soft laugh exhaled from him, “I’ve genuinely been enjoying myself, so… Thank you for that.”

It genuinely made you smile, hearing that, digging into your wallet for your card, smiling still as you tapped it on the POS device laid in front of you. Using your finger for your digital signature, you paused after, turning your eyes back at him. “… Actually… Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, yeah,” he said, taking another drag, brown eyes all on you.

They really were like big doe eyes.

A smile on your face, you cleared your throat, licking your lips. “It’s just, um… Well, when I fell, it… It was kinda sudden, obviously, generally how falls go.”

He’s smiling, now, which, fuck him for doing that.

“And… It was pretty lucky that you caught me…”

Oh, there was something that flashed in his eyes, then. Which was interesting, in your mind. Not something you could decipher right away, though. Concern? No…

“I’m just… In a room full of people that straight did not even flinch at a woman tripping over… You reacted really quickly.” He was holding his breath, the only way you could really tell was the smoke lingering from within, before he exhaled, once more, away from you. “Were you like, heading toward the opposite direction and just — bam! There I went, or…?”

You watched as Joe took a deep breath, tongue poking out and licking his lips. “Erm…” he started, almost sheepishly. There was something in the way he wouldn’t look at your eyes, almost guiltily. “…something…like that…”

Raising your brows, those little words brought forth this curiosity clawing from within you. “…something like that?”

“Yup,” he gave you, popping that p for emphasis, giving a nod. “Definitely…” His eyes wandered, flickering toward you, just for a fraction of a second. “…something like that.”

The thing was… When his eyes flickered over to you just then… It wasn’t at your eyes, or your face… But… Somewhere a bit…lower than that… It was so quick, though, but the way he stood there in front of you, so different than moments earlier where it was calm and easy. Just casual and nice and now, fingers tapping at his hip and when his eyes did meet yours. His big chocolate button eyes seemed bigger.

Almost pleading. That’s when you knew.

Lips quirked into a smile, eyes lighting up. A surge of giddiness bubbled within the pit of your stomach and was quickly spreading throughout your body. Oh, this was good. This was too good. The summer’s favorite white boy, the one, quite ironically, dominating everyone’s TikTok’s for you pages, the one everyone was swooning over… He…

 “…oh my god.”

“I… No, that’s… I was…”

“…you were looking at my boobs.”

He scoffed, taking a step back and eyes wide. As if he was offended at the accusation. Which was fair, anyone that was called outright like you were doing would go for the offended defense. “I…” he started, his hand gripping at the edge of the bar’s counter, his other hand raised, forefinger pointed toward you. “I…” he repeated, his words halted as he brought his cigarette for one more drag before it went toward the ashtray, extinguished. “That… What I was doing was…”

“Oh, tell me,” you let out, arms crossed in front of you, over your stomach, purposefully giving your cleavage a bit more of a boost. “Tell me what you were doing?”

“I, well,” he said with a little nod. His eyes trained on your own, willing himself not to look down. “I’ll tell you, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“Okay. Cool. Let’s hear it. Love to hear it.”

“Well, we’re gonna. Yeah.” You chuckled, and he wanted to, but only cleared his throat, “Shut up, you see…” A momentary grin on his lips. Slowly, he pointed toward himself, “I… Right? Yeah. I was having a drink, right? Yeah, I was. And then, I was trying to meet up with a mate, so… I was going to go outside and… Y’know, text or call him.”

“Right,” you let out, giving a nod. “It’s so noisy here, so yeah, that makes sense.”

“Yeah! Right,” he said, brows raised. “Far too noisy, at least for a call. So, outside,” leaning toward the counter, his palm flat on the top of it. “So, getting off the stool, going about strolling toward the exit, yeah? And…” he snapped his fingers, “And then you come strolling toward the bar, and… Well…”

“…you saw my boobs.”

His lips stretched, teeth biting at the corner of his lip, refusing to look at you before letting out a, “…. stop saying that!” quite exasperatedly.

Which only made you laugh, and not kindly. Almost a cackle which only broke the dam as it were with Joseph, because his laugh came tumbling down.

“Am I wrong?” you let out in between the giggling — yes, you were giggling with this man. “I mean, it’s okay! It’s okay if you were! No judgement.”

He let out a groan, facing toward the counter and laid his head in his arms on top of it. Quite dramatically. Comically, which only made you chuckle more.

“Honestly, I’m not even offended by it.”

“God, you should be.” His voice slightly muffled, his hands resting at the back of his head, interlocking together. “…it’s not… It’s not like I make a habit of it—”

“I was just a special case? Aw!” You heard him groan, delving further into his arms and hands grasping each other tighter. “No, really, I’m honored that in place as crowded as this, my tits are the ones that stand out — well, not cold enough to stand out — but,” you let out a soft laugh at yourself and even amongst the music and the chatter, you swore you heard him chuckle, too.

“..it’s actually…kinda flattering.” Looking down at your chest, taking a deep breath to see your cleavage heave, chuckling a bit. “Makes me feel very Blanche Deveraux,” you add, putting on a very questionable Southern accent as close to the golden girl herself,” …like my breasts have the power to make music!” Your regular voice coming back as you finished, “It’s thrilling.”

He soon lifted his head from the counter, looking over at you with a furrowed brow. “…I feel like I’m supposed to know that reference, but I don’t…” Your brows shot up at that and it was well noted by him as he added, “….ah. And I should know that, I’m assuming. It’s upsetting you that I don’t.”

It was. Well, kind of. More shocked than anything, and it showed. “Do you…? Are you saying that you… You’ve never seen Golden Girls?”

“…oh,” he uttered softly, his back straightening. “I mean, I’ve heard of it. Kind of? Erm, like uh… Well, mostly heard of Betty White, like obviously. But not quite… Never really… Sat down and watched it—oh,” he reacted to how wide your eyes got at that, and the way your lips parted. “Oh, we’re very cross about that, are we?”

“I — yes! Very! You’ve — oh, that’s bad. You should fix that as soon as possible, Mr. Quinn. Because yeah, it’s gonna bug me until you do. Not that I’d know, but still…”

A snort left him, grinning from ear to ear, no doubt with how ridiculous you sounded. But it was worth it, at least you got to see those big doe eyes again. “I can tell it bothers you, so…” He shook his head with a chuckle, “I’ll erm… I’ll try and put it on the books, yeah? Just for you, though.”

“I mean… It’ll be more for your benefit than mine. No, seriously, we’ll probably never meet again but you will thank me, I’m sure of it.”

Taking a deep breath, he let out a soft hum, “Mmhm, I’m sure of it. I trust you. So… I’m guessing one of them has a…. Southern accent? That… That was what you were attempting, right?”

Dramatically placing a hand over your heart, you busted the accent out once again. “I do declare, Mister Quinn, are you doubtin’ my impeccable imitation of the great and late Blanche Elizabeth Deveraux, initials spelling B.E.D? Oh, fiddly-dee.” You saw his smile growing wider at every word that left your lips until it broke out in a laugh. “Hey!” you let out, laughing as well, “We’re not all Master of Accents like you clearly are, buddy. Some of us are scrambling without that fancy schooling.”

“Oh, no,” he bemoaned through a laugh, “…you saw that, did you?”

“Oh, yeah,” you let out gleefully. “That was… A tour de force. I… It was the Liverpool one that did it for me…”

“Hey. Oi. Like I said on there, mm? My mum is from Liverpool and….” His lips twitching into a smile, nodding his head, “…sounds just like that.”

“Yeah… You really shouldn’t be disrespecting your mum like that. Just… Just doing her wrong.” You laughed a little, licking her lips, “No, no, it was…” nodding slightly, “No, it was really good. You were very…charming, actually. Especially for your first talk show appearance. I mean, it was Fallon, but you made it work. I’m pretty sure you got more fans out of it. You did…. You did really good.”

The way he smiled struck you, and there was a softness in his eyes you weren’t expecting, either. You’d expected him to be showered on dozens of praise and accolades for his role of Eddie Munson, which would be richly deserved. But there he was, standing there as if your words were the first he ever heard. “That… Thank you,” he let out with an impish sort of smile. “That means a lot, actually.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he let out a sigh of relief. “So, not embarrassing, then? The accent bit was really rough.”

“Oh, yeah, you um…” you chuckled, “You had the uh… Red face thing going on through it.”

His face fell at that, “Oh, don’t tell me that. You’re joking, yeah? Like… Not…” Your lips stretched out in a smile which only made him let out a soft laugh. “I wasn’t that obvious, was I? Really?”

A snort left you, shrugging your shoulders, “I mean… It wasn’t like… Okay, maybe your ears got a little red, too,” you paused as a bark of a laugh escaped him, the sight of him covering his mouth with his hand almost sent you into a fit of giggles yourself. “Which was kinda a dead giveaway.”

“What? N—” shaking his head bewildered, a whiplash of emotions crossing his features, yet the smile was still there, still wide. “I… What? What do you mean dead giveaway?! I don’t have—my ears?!”

“Oh, god, you’re cute. Do you not know?”

“Yeah. Right. Fucking adorable, and no?! No, I don’t… What… Do I….” he furrowed his brows, a hand reaching toward his ears, feeling them a bit. “…people noticed my ears get red?”

“Howards End,” you let out as if it was easily explained, and by the look on his face, it was. “The kissing scene.”

Oh, he looked like a boy on Christmas. A laugh erupted from his lips and eyes wide, “Howards End?!” he let out, his voice pitched, and then making a quick recovery with a clearing of his throat. Crossing his arms, though his eyes remained wide as he gave a nod, “Howards End. You saw Howards End? I was in that.” You snorted, and he closed his eyes, brows furrowed. “Right, yeah, you know that already,” he chuckled, opening his eyes once more to look at that. “So… So… You watched Howards End.”

“Are you like… Are you surprised? Yeah. Yeah, I saw Howards End but I’m not gonna discuss it because I’ll just get angry.”

“Oh, really?”

“God, yes,” you respond, taking a deep breath, “Eat the fucking rich, that’s… That’s what I got out of it. Was that not the main theme? Oh, and justice for Leonard Bast.”

He giggled at that, actually giggled which, God… You wish you didn’t find it downright adorable. Shaking his head, running his hand through his hair and grabbing his shades in the process, “Sorry, sorry, that’s just… That’s mad I’m only really used to my past work, y’know, mentioned through like… Bullshit networking and the like, not genuinely — So, red ears, got it.”

Your brows furrowed, “Wait… No, don’t buy it.” He looked at you confused, prompting you to explain. “Come on, I mean, it’s not like it’s totally obscure and like… You have a few things under your belt, I mean… People had to have mentioned your other stuff. I know everyone’s all… It’s all about Eddie Munson right now, I mean, the photo of you as Eddie with the horns and tongue is plastered all over the con, but… I mean… People have seen your other stuff. I know they have; I’ve seen people talk about your other stuff so, no, I don’t buy it.”

He tilted his head, raising his shoulders in a shrug, “I mean, yeah, but… I dunno, it’s just… Just sort of feels like they’re just being nice about it. But much of the time… Yeah, yeah, they’re…” He smiled, shaking his head, “It’s…. all about Eddie. Which is great!” he ended, holding his hand up. “I mean, it’s mad, but… I get it, he…” A bewildered laugh escaped him. “It’s…kinda special, hearing about… The other roles. I dunno, still getting used to it?” He shrugged, “I dunno. But erm, thank you, erm… Not sure for what, for… I guess…” He snorted, “Watching Howards End, I suppose. And angry on Leonard Bast’s behalf. Um…” With an amused expression, he raised his brows, “Not a nice ending for him.”

“If I think about it hard enough, I go in a rage, so, no,” the both of you chuckling at that. “Not nice, no.” Licking your lips, you can’t help but ask, “So… How’s it going, then? The whole… Madness of all the attention suddenly on you? How are they treating you?”

“Oh,” he let out, a sense of surprise in his tone, brows raising a bit. “Erm… Yeah, no, yeah, it’s been great.” Nodding a bit, letting out a soft laugh. “Yeah, no, it’s been good, bit new to it but, yeah, no. It’s been lovely, actually. So… Yeah, great.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yup,” he said, popping the p. “Really, really great. Really. Good fun and… Yeah,” nodding with a smirk. “Been awesome.”

You smile at that, crossing your arms in front of you. “Oh, it’s been awesome.”

“Yeah.”

“Uh huh… Tell me that one more time and I’ll believe you.”

He snorted at that, hands going into his pockets. “I… It has been…” The longer he looked at you, at your face, you could see his face cracking. A broad grin stretched along his face as his eyes lifted toward the ceiling and he let out a groan. “Oh, god, why do I wanna be honest with you, that can’t be good…”

You chuckled a bit, “I got one of those faces, I guess… No, really, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, but if you do… I promise, it stays between us. I mean, look at me, I have an honest face, it goes both ways.”

Taking a deep breath, he scratched the side of his neck. “Okay… Okay, well… Erm… It’s… Different?” His lips stretched tightly. “It’s mad, y’know, like I said. But… I’m enjoying it. Y’know, enjoy meeting so many people and… having that much of an impact, it’s… It’s um…”

“…a lot.”

“Oh, god, it’s so much more than I thought when I signed on,” he let out in a relieved tone. “Yeah, it’s exciting. Being in the business for as long as I have and never experiencing anything like this, I…” He let out a breath. “It’s fuckin’ amazing and… It’s not anything I’ve experienced before. I… Usually I just do a job and then I go home and maybe it shows up on the telly or on a screen, maybe, but…” He shook his head, looking at you. “Nothing like this — my face is plastered everywhere and… Yes, it’s exciting and I am loving it, don’t get me wrong — God, it feels weird saying this I don’t even…” He licked his lips, “It’s… It’s an adjustment, I guess. But I’m learning, so, that’s… That’s good, isn’t it?”

You nodded, offering a shrug, “Best you can do, really.” You watched as he gave a nod. “And I get it… I mean… It must be such a mind fuck. They talk about break out roles but, you don’t really have any clue how real that is until… I guess… It happens. And it definitely happened with you and… It’s a lot. It must be. I, personally, didn’t even know you existed a few months ago,” you ended with a laugh.

He snorted at that, “Oh, cheers! That’s… That’s lovely.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not just me, so… Saying that, like…” You paused, taking a deep breath. “Do I say this on the risk of inflating your ego…”

“Yes,” came the immediate response. “Please, I’m very needy with praise and I… Kinda… Said way too much already, so… I would appreciate it beyond words. Praise me.”

Grinning a bit, you shook your head, “For someone that hasn’t watched Golden Girls, you are giving Blanche vibes right now…”

“I… Sure, why not?”

Chuckling a bit, you leaned against the counter, looking over at him. “…if anyone deserved a breakout role, it’s you.”

His brows shot up at that, which made you smile.

“I’ve seen your other stuff, two of which before I even watched Stranger Things, by the way.”

Oh, his brows shot wide up at that, and you rolled your eyes as he propped his arm on the counter, resting his chin within the palm of his hand.

“In fact… Oh, God… Okay… I might have started watching Stranger Things because… I… I was impressed with your acting in…two of your works…”

“You did not.” His voice disbelieving to say the least, making you laugh, though he carried on. “That’s — No, no, no, that ridiculous you did not… C’mon, you’re taking the piss now.”

“I’m not! I’m serious. I didn’t even go looking for it, I was just binging and bam, there you were, the stranger things guy with the hair! I swear,” placing your hand over your heart. “Cross my heart and all that. It was like… Kismet or some shit.”

A hearty laugh came out of him, eyes practically wide as saucers. “Oh my god, that’s… That’s so funny… What… What two shows…?”

“Catherine the Great,” you listed off, lips scrunched to the side, “Mm, Prince Paul was…. I mean… At the time was… It was okay,” he snorted at that, nodding a bit. “But, y’know, I’ve kinda warmed up to Paul since then, but it was good and I was like, okay, not bad.”

“That seems to be the general impression I give off, yeah.”

“Shut up,” you fired back with a laugh. “But then… I kept going through my binge and I came across a series named Strike. Or, C.B. Strike here in the states, which is weird, I know, but… It seemed interesting so I got into it.” You smiled, “And then the second season came and… Wouldn’t you know? It’s that guy again.”

“Loving it.”

“Yeah? Well, I don’t know if it’s because I saw you in Catherine the Great first or whatever, but, as soon as you popped on the screen…?” A breathless laugh escaped you, remembering the moment as you shook your head. “It was… Different. And… Honestly, your whole performance was just…” Looking up at him with a smile, “You were amazing. Like… I was really watching… Acting, you know? I mean, obviously, yes, I was, but… Really… Seeing it in action, like… I don’t know. Not like I’m an expert but, it was just really… Captivating and… I couldn’t look away. I was… I was in complete awe of you.”

His grand smiles were gone, the broad grins as well, but there was something a bit softer that replaced it. A look of genuine awe in his eyes as he looked at you. You expected some quip of self-deprecation, but he was staring at you in silence for a moment, and suddenly his smile grew. Threatening to claim his entire face as he let out a huff of a laugh. “Sorry, that was… Erm… Fuck. I don’t even get that kinda feedback from my mum,” he tried to cover with a laugh, though his gaze at you seems a bit dazed. Fingers scratching at the scruff of his cheek. “I… Yeah, I put a lot of work on Billy, that… It wasn’t a lead role or all that meaty a role, but… Seems to have put on an impression on some and…” He nodded a bit, smile still in place. “It’s very sweet and… I’m glad it did. Thank you, really.”

It touched you that your words seemed to touch him, making you smile. “Well, no, it wasn’t the lead role or anything but… It was meaningful. And if it was any other actor, it wouldn’t be. You got talent, something I’m sure has been said over and over to you, but—”

“I’m very needy so even if it was, I wouldn’t get tired of hearing it.”

“Yeah, well, you are an actor, so that tracks,” you joked, making him laugh a bit, leaning back on his seat. “But yeah, I was so impressed that I binged the whole show, just to see you in action in the role so many fell in love with. And I… I thought it wouldn’t be so bad. Since, you know, I already knew he’d die at the end, so I was like, not gonna love him. Won’t hurt as much, right? Yeah… Did not make it past the cafeteria scene, so…”

“Oh, you like them obnoxious, then.”

“Hey, you call him obnoxious, I call him dramatic and yes, I fucking love dramatic men, but, only if they make me laugh.”

He seemed to take keen interest in that. “So, you like your men more dramatic or funny?”

Letting out a hum, you considered that. There was a key difference there, you knew. “I guess out of the two… I’d have to go with funny. I’d rather laugh than be frustrated because some guy couldn’t act right or be chill about things. Anything is pretty much forgivable if the person makes me laugh. Means we’re having a good time.”

He nodded a that, though you shook your head, “Anyway, my original point — You’re very talented, and that’s coming from someone that didn’t even knew your name not even three months ago and… Your acting, it should be recognized, you put in a lot of work with your portrayals, and it shows and… I’m glad you’re having your breakout moment. I really am… And you should enjoy it. All of it.”

He smiled at that, another one of those gentle smiles that made his eyes shine, you swore it did. “That’s… Thank you. I really do appreciate that. More than you know, really. And I am! I’m enjoying it. Still a bit mad, but… I’m enjoying it, I promise.”

“Good… I’m glad of that.” Taking a deep breath, you looked around. “How many cons have you done so far?”

“Oh… Erm… God, I think… This is my third one? Still a bit green…”

“Well, I’m a bit more seasoned than you, so,” you huff out a soft chuckle. “Make sure you’re hydrated, like seriously, even if the water’s warm, just take it if it’s offered by the staff. Same with food, though if you can hit someplace outside of what the staff provide… Do it. I mean, what they give you is good enough but… If you want to enjoy your time, it helps. Also? Snacks. Snacks are so important; you have no idea. If you can’t get a full meal and your breaks aren’t cutting it? Get you some snacks. Obviously not ones that need refrigeration and shit, but like, a little trail mix, if you wanna be healthy. Uh... Some chips or…crisps, whatever. I’m a sucker for chocolate myself. Or cookies. Sweets, it’s not…. healthy but, god, makes the day worth it. Also? Do not skimp on your breaks. I know the temptation to skip them comes but like… You, Mr. Popular, have a lot of folks coming just for you. I walked through the convention earlier and there’s a sea of Hellfire shirts all around,” you chuckled. “You need your breaks.”

“You’re adorable,” he let out, and it wasn’t clear if he meant to say it or not, but he was smiling throughout your little guide to surviving a con. “You’re actually giving me advice, that’s… Very helpful, yeah, but… Also… You’re adorable.”

Your brows lifted, “Adorable?” Scoffing lightly. “Adorable. Really?” Holding your hand up, you added, “Hey, this is sound advice, I’ll have you know.”

“Oh, it sounds it! I’m not disputing that, no, no, it’s really good advice and all that, it’s just,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “Sorry, just erm…” He shrugged, “I dunno! It’s… It’s sweet… Y’know, telling me all that. Which I’ll take to heart, absolutely. It is sound advice.” He winked, actually winked at you with a smile, “Thanks for looking out for me.”

He dared to call your advice adorable, but the wink he gave? That was adorable, making your lips twitch with a wider smile than you intend to let out. “Yeah, well…” Lips pursed together as you made a side glance toward nothing at all, just away from him. “You did save me, so… The least I can do to help make this con better for you.” Taking a breath, “Even though you only really saved me because you were being a big ol’ perv.”

“Oi,” he interjected with his big brown eyes wide, though any offense to your words were quickly dispelled with a laugh that breathed past his lips. “No, that… That is only because… You…. You got tits that make music or…whatever the fuck you said in that… Questionable accent.”

You felt bold at that, emitting a gasp and actually laid a hand on him. Not because you were falling, and he was there. Because you wanted to, it felt the most natural thing in the world to take your hand and smack his arm just like that.

And he, it seemed, felt natural enough for him to put on a wince, pull the struck shoulder back, his face a complete mockery of a pained expression as he let out an exaggerated, “Ow.”

“Shut up, that did not hurt.”

“Ahhh,” he exaggerated, rubbing where you had struck him. “Tell that to my arm, that’s going to be a bruise — Netflix is going to have a word with you about that.”

“Okay, well, it was in defense of my superior Blanche impression and big words from the man that attempted a Scottish accent, the supreme of accents by the way and ended up lisping it—” you ended with a laugh only to join his when a figure was seen out of the corner of your eye.

Turning it, you saw a young woman standing there, staring at the both of you. “Oh, hey, sorry am I blocking you from the bar or…?”

“Oh… Uh… No, I just… Um…” She was gripping something in her hand, looking from you to Joseph who had straightened up and offered a smile. “Oh. Oh, wow. I… Hi.”

“Hi, how are you?” he pushed out with a gentle smile, and a voice even gentler. Different than what you were hearing in your conversation. His eyes were on her, looking directly at her, into her eyes as if she was the only one in the room. “Enjoying yourself, darling?”

It amused you.

This was him in work mode, you realized, as you leaned back and looked on. The girl seemed taken by him, of course. How could anyone not? He was good, especially for someone so green in these sorts of affairs.

“I… Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m having a great time. Are… Are you…? Having a great time….?”

He smiled brightly, and you swore you saw his eyes light up. “I’m doing absolutely lovely, my dear.” The woman between the two of you looked absolutely starstruck, gripping on the hardcover book she had in her hands — … wait.

You knew that book.

Your eyes peering at the cover, eyes widened as if viewing an old friend… Because, as it turned out, you were. “That’s my first book.”

It was as if you broke his spell and her bright eyes looked away from him and straight toward you, a brighter smile on her face. “Oh! Yeah! Sorry, I…” Turning her attention to Joe, her smile turned sheepish. Embarrassed, even. “I just um… I wasn’t expecting you, when… When I was coming over I just…” She gave a shrug, “I only saw her —” And with a turn towards you, she clarified, “You. Um… This is going to sound really… Like… Stalker-y? It’s not! I swear it’s not —”

“To be fair that’s what most stalkers would say but go on…” you replied cautiously.

She let out a laugh, “God, I know. Sorry, it’s just… The prices for the con went up and like… It was just too much for me to buy tickets? But um… I knew this was the closest bar and it’s not like I came specifically in case you happened to come in, I’m out with my friends, we were gonna be in the area and its good food but on the off chance you did…” She held out the book towards you, “…could I…. I mean, could you… sign it?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Joseph raise his brows in surprise and confusion — but a bit of amusement there, too. Not like he was upset to be slightly upstaged now, but a bit surprised. You could practically see his big brown eyes taking in your name on the cover, only causing his eyes to grow wider if even possible. This didn’t really happen a lot to you, not before your TikTok took off and there was a face to the name. Your smile stretched wide, and you took hold of a copy of your first of your series, nostalgia hitting you and remembering how excited you were to hold the very first copy as given to you by your publisher all those years ago.

That was a different you, then. Excited. Mind brimming with ideas and plots and characters to take the reader for a whirlwind adventure of romance and unabashed sex. Your smile turned wistful as you looked at your main heroine, or the silhouette of her, she was still abstract, except for in your words. You remembered it was important, for readers to have an idea of what she looked like, tickled by the thought of a version of your heroine would be born in every readers’ head. Never quite the same, always a bit unique and different, a bit of themselves in her while reading of her story, of her life. That was important to you.

Your eyes lifted from the book, your book, and to the woman that placed it in your hands. Taking a deep breath, lifting your brows, you went, “So… You couldn’t afford to meet me in the convention at my table, so you decided to come here on the off chance I was here and get your book signed for free?”

Oh, the look on her face. You couldn’t keep it up even if you tried.

“I respect it, that’s really smart, actually… Good on you, I’d do the exact same thing,” you smiled as you saw the relief flooding her face. “Yeah, of course, god, it’s been forever since I’ve even seen this edition…” You smiled, observing the book, “Oh, nice, this is well worn down, the spine’s definitely taken a beating.”

She laughed, giving a nod, “Yeah, it’s… It’s honestly my favorite. I love the rest of the series but… The first one’s just… It’s special to me. It’s just the start of everything and like… I loved the emotions when I read it for the first time and it’s nice to remember that sometimes… Does that sound weird?”

“God, no, absolutely not. That’s…really fucking flattering, actually… Uh, I don’t have a pen or Sharpie with me, do you…?”

A silver Sharpie was produced in front of you with her eager hand, chuckling as you took it, “Thanks,” opening the book and to the first blank page.

“What’s your name?” Hearing it, you gave a nod, scribbling in your neatest handwriting the name and a little personalized message with your signature. Smiling broadly, you handed the book and marker with her, “There you go, thanks for reading, it honestly… It means a lot; you guys don’t even know.”

“Oh my God… Please, thank you for…” She shook her head, “Thank you,” taking a moment to read what you wrote, and the smile on her face was well worth it as she closed it gently and held it against her chest. “I am sorry I couldn’t make it into the actual convention, though…”

“No, it’s expensive, I totally get it. If I wasn’t invited, I probably wouldn't bother. It’s cool you thought of this, though. Even if it…” You gave a light shrug, “…It… It is a bit stalker-y but just a little bit,” raising your hand and showing just how little with your thumb and forefinger. “Just a bit.” You both chuckled, “But no, it’s totally lovely to meet you. I’m glad you got the book signed despite the struggle over the wallet being very real. Have a great night, okay?”

“Thanks,” she smiled, turning around but stopping, making a sharp turn, “Oh, and happy birthday! I saw your latest TikTok, kinda cool to celebrate the weekend at the con, right?”

“TikTok,” you heard Joseph let out as he sat back, arms crossed looking between the two of you. “…you have a TikTok.”

Your lips stretched wide as you fought the urge to not roll your eyes. “I do have a TikTok. A very handy one that reaches a lot of people that would maybe help in getting my work out there and voice heard.”

“Ah, well, I did hear it’s very good for that sort of thing.”

“Oh, it’s great,” she said, not quite getting what you and Joe were talking about. “I loved the readings you do from the past books and the stuff with Jen and sometimes Gerry and… Yeah, it’s great. Um… Though… Are you thinking about the next book?” She winced at herself, “Sorry, is that like… You’ve probably been asked that before.”

Oh, she had no idea....

“…it’s a popular one, yeah… There are thoughts and ideas, for sure. Work in progress, you know how those things are. But I don’t have a definite date yet. So…” Oh, God. You put on a smile, and a nod, “We’ll see.”

“Awesome,” she let out, and then, nervously, looking at Joseph. “…would I be pushing my luck if I asked for a pic?” Her smile turning nervous, “I… I really loved Eddie, um. I cried when he died… You were so good; I really hope you come back next season.”

It was amazing to see the switch come on, a smile that was broad but still polite, almost guarded came over his face, a gentle gaze thrown at her. “Thank you, that’s very sweet of you to say. It’s lovely how much you all seem to welcome Eddie and I’m so thankful for that. I…” he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head, “I honestly don’t know about next season, erm… I haven’t heard anything yet but…” He gave a shrug, taking a quick glance at you, a smile twitching at his lips as he turned to her and said, “We’ll see. And no, you’re not pushing your luck at all, I’d love to take a selfie with you.”

From the look of her face, it almost seemed like Christmas, watching as they posed together, Joseph holding up the camera and waiting for the perfect shot before he took it. Handing her phone over back to her, she suddenly looked at you with that same nervous look to her. Making you chuckle and giving a nod, taking her phone and taking a picture with her as well.

Soon, she turned and left the both of you alone together once again.

As alone as two people in a crowded bar could be, anyway.

But as he looked at you, a cocky smile spread over his face, raising his brows, chuckling low. “So,” he started, a toothy grin across his face. “You’re a writer.”

The smile on your face was wide, brimming with your amusement as you gave a nod. “… Yes, I am a writer.”

Crossing his arms in front of him, he let out a soft laugh. “I… I had no idea.”

You gave a shrug, “I mean… How could you? Not like I’m out here with a big old fashioned, 1920’s typewriter strapped to my back or anything.”

He snorted at that, teeth flashing in his smile, giving in to a nod. “No, you’re definitely not… I suppose… The advice you gave me about being at these conventions… Not as an attendee, then.”

A laugh escaped you, a gentle shake of your head given as you look at him. “…no, definitely not. Just part of the Con hustle like you — well, not just like you. I mean, you actors get a lot more action than we pitiful authors ever will…”

Oh, his brows shot up so fast at that, eyes wide — almost as wide as his mouth as they spread into the broadest smile you had ever seen on a person. A spluttering laugh escaping him, “Oh? Us actors? Really? You’re going with that?”

“Oh, you’re gonna deny it? We can go back to that convention center, if you want, and see how many pictures of you are plastered all over and see if it’s in the double digits.”

“Oh,” his brows furrowed, looking quite discontent at the mere suggestion of that. “Oh, fine, you win, just… Please, please, let’s not, yeah?” A small, breathy laugh slipped from him. “I’m pretty sure that picture will then just burn into your brain and that’s all you’d think at the mention of me and — no, no, no, no, don’t want that.”

Lips twitching into a smile you were trying to hold back, giving an understanding nod. “Mm, yeah… Really regretting the devil horns and the tongue pose, huh?”

“…yeah, people’ve really clung to that…”

“It’s a good pose! To be fair, and really great in the scene.”

“Well, I thought so! Still do. But… It’s really something walking and seeing that picture staring at you all over.”

“Which proves my earlier point. Your lines are… Way longer than mine will ever be, so… To bring us back to the original point… Us pitiful authors are more likely to not be recognized than you actors that are so well loved and pretty enough to be recognized—”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?”

You laughed, a bit harder than you intended, eyes looking at him as you felt a warmth traveling up your face. Licking your lips, clearing your throat, “—I’m… I’m saying… It’s more natural that you’d be recognized more than like… Well, me. So, you know, if you’re feeling bad about it… Well, that’s stupid, don’t do that.”

He grinned at that, a soft chuckle joining in as his eyes looked down a moment, and you swore, you swore you saw his ears gain a slight reddish tinge of color before he looked up at you again. “…I’ll admit, I was feeling a bit of a twat which, well… I practically feel that every moment of my fucking life one way or another, but…” He smiled, “In this case, I’ll…try not to. Which is difficult.”

“Ah… Right…. The British thing, huh?”

That earned an immediate laugh, his eyes looking at you incredulously. He paused a moment, his smile widening further. “…you’re…working through your birthday. How American of you.”

“Pfft, not as if this is anything remotely classified as hard labor. You’ve clearly never worked an hourly wage job, huh?”

“Excuse me?” he said, a touch of offense in his tone and by the expression on his face. “You don’t know me. I could have been a hard-working lad.”

“Did you, then?”

He paused, lips parted, and an ever-growing smile on his face. “… no, but I could’ve done.” You laughed. “You can’t go just assuming things is my point.”

“Yeah, okay, fair.” Giving him a nod, “A fair point. And, yeah,” you admitted with a sigh. “I voluntarily chose to be here during my birthday weekend.” Giving a shrug, “Girl’s gotta eat. And, honestly, worse places to be on your birthday. I’m kinda fond of this convention. Meet up with a lot of fellow authors, and yes, the readers are great, it’s really cool to connect and see who is still willing to read my shit, so…”

“Well,” he interjected, nodding toward where one of your readers had sat down. “She seemed quite interested, so, I can see why you enjoy doing this.”

“And it’s local for me, too. So not much of a hassle, just drove here from home… Gonna drive back after some food… And yes, I get a bit of money and an ego boost so it might as well be on my birthday — don’t ask me how old, I won’t say.”

“Oh, no, I would never. My mum would never allow that if she knew, so no, won’t be doing that.”

You chuckled, “…you really are a mama’s boy, aren’t you?”

He snorted, “The sexiest thing in the world to be, I’m sure… But… Well, yeah, guess I am, a bit… That entirely make me sound like a… I dunno, a… It’s not sexy, is it? Like, I’m some man child or… Someone unappealing? Need to cut the cord sort of thing? Which I have! I am… Live by myself and all that, I just… Well… It’s my mum, you know? And yeah, I adore her.”

You were impressed he fully admitted to favoring his mum, most guys you’ve hung around with wouldn’t have. Gerry did, and Gerry was definitely classified as a mama’s boy from the get-go, but he entirely did not count in your eyes. That, coupled with the fact that the way in which Joseph asked was… Genuine. Vulnerable, even. And the way he did speak about his mum… That made him a very dangerous man.

Chuckling softly, you shook your head. “Doesn’t sound unappealing at all. It’s… It’s kinda… It’s the sweetest, actually.”

His eyes seemed to soften, sparked by his smile as his fingers stroked along his bearded jaw. “Yeah? Well,” placing his hand down, giving you a challenging look. “Sweet is hardly sexy, though, is it?”

Letting out a hum, your shoulders lift in a small shrug towards him, “Could be to some people.”

Licking his lips as he became silent for a few fleeting seconds, used, in his head, to ponder the point of even asking what was swirling in his head. Staring at you, the inside of his cheek nestled between his side teeth, deciding if he really wanted to know and just by how much, but he asked it anyway — “Is it, to you?”

You wanted to laugh.

Just… Laugh.

Your eyebrows lifted, of course. Lips twitching a bit, to the point where your teeth bit into the flesh of your bottom lip. There was even a feeling of heat traveling up your neck. Joseph Quinn are you seducing me? echoed in your head, which only added to the whole hilarity of the moment and made you want to laugh even more.

Lips parted, though your mind went blank. Reassurance that he was just being funny was screaming in your head, that it was a joke, that he was just being kind. Crossing your arms in front of you, a laugh did escape you, but more of a huff rather than the complete guffaw you wanted to let out. The thought was too much — he was being too much with those eyes of his, peering at you like that. His head tilted back slightly, and you swore his eyes scanned your face, somewhat wolfish in the manner.

Worse?

He licked his god damn lips.

Fuck him.

“Could be,” you finally answer, repeating your earlier words. “Depending on the person.”

He exhaled through his nose in a huff, smile shown on that unfair face of his. He bit the corner of his lip, giving a nod, “So, definitely not a deal breaker?”

“As long as they don’t call me mommy or…try and make me into their mom in some weird, Oedipus kink sort of situation… No, no, not a deal breaker.”

“N—“he started, but a chuckle interrupted his words for a moment, shaking his head. “No, no, that would be… Yeah, Oedipus kink is a fair deal breaker…” Looking at you a moment, he took in a deep breath. “Do you like chocolate?”

“…um,” furrowing your brows and letting out a laugh. “I… I don’t really trust anyone that says they don’t, even a little bit. Outside of allergies, of course.”

“Right, of course. So, but are you a big fan of it? Like… Is it your favorite?”

“God, yes. I can never have enough chocolate, I will do…ungodly things for chocolate. Why?”

He clicked his tongue off the roof of his mouth, pointing toward the kitchen. “They… They have this like, chocolate ganache ricotta cheesecake here that is…” his words trailed off, shaking his head in almost disbelief, “…the most…delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. Not too sweet, but still indulgent and just… Absolutely amazing… And… I… Yeah, just realized I’m trying to sell you on something you’ve most likely already had probably so many times, haven’t you?”

There was such a pitying look on your face, “…you looked so excited telling me all that…”

“Fuck,” he let out, leaning back in his seat. “Really thought I was doing something, there… Shit.” He ended with a soft laugh, rubbing the side of his neck. “It’s fucking delicious though, isn’t it?”

“Oh,” you let out, leaning against the back of your chair, “I would give my first born for an endless supply of that cheesecake, yeah. Favorite is the caramel drizzle on top.”

He laughed, more at ease, “Well, I don’t…really have a need for a first born at the moment, but… And seeing as you’ve pronounced caramel properly and the right way—”

“God, you are so British.”

“Yes, I am, now, shut up,” he chuckled, licking his lips. “…let me buy you a slice of that cheesecake. I won’t ask for a candle but, well… It is your birthday, and you are valiantly working through it… So…?”

An immediate smile came across your face, and it was in that moment you noted the light stinging of your cheeks, alerting you to just how much you were smiling within this interaction. Much more than you had in quite a while.

That could be enough, couldn’t it?

It wouldn’t be right to just accept it right away. So said some residual bullshit of pride in not seeking gifts from men you just met or accepting things so easily rose in you. One that mainly came from growing up in a family that was that prideful, the words of your older sister and maybe even your mother bubbled up. “You don’t have to do that…”

“I know. But I want to,” he said oh so casually. “Cheaper than drinks,” he joked with a light chuckle. “And I mean… More indulgent, I think… And, yes, you were right, I was…so…looking at your boobs like some fucking caveman and I need to rectify that.”

You laughed at that, causing his face to flush a bit.

“So, please…” he didn’t even ask again, looking toward the bartender, raising a hand. “Can you add that lovely chocolate ganache ricotta cheesecake to her order? I’ll pay for it or — actually, just add it to my tab, I should be sorting it out, already, thanks.”

It wasn’t normal, how that last part made your heart sink a bit. “Heading off?”

Maybe it was wishful thinking, but you swore you saw a hint of regret on his face. “Yeah, really should meet up with my mate. I really was on my way to do that, just…” He smiled at you. “Got a bit distracted.”

Giving out a nod, you hummed, “That does happen.”

“Mmhm,” he let out, taking his wallet from his pocket, the card reader placed in front of him. “So,” he started, whipping out his credit card and going forward with the payment. “You’re a writer. What do you write about, then?”

Ah, yes.

You were wondering when that question would come out. There were a lot of ways to go about it, flowery words — vague words that you knew others in your field typically went toward when someone not in your field would ask that question. Thing was… You never really got along with those that skirt around it, instead, admired those bold enough to be direct. Because that’s what you were at times.

Blunt and direct.

“Oh… Lady porn, basically.”

His credit card stilled in mid-air, just inches away from the tap icon and you watched with amusement — it was entirely out of amusement — as he seemed to freeze right on the spot. Perhaps he hadn’t heard you right. A trick of the ears, of you telling him something completely different to what he heard. Tap went the card, hearing the light chirp of the machine before the card was lifted once more, tapping the no receipt option and his eyes — oh, his eyes! They blinked, more than a few times as his hands returned his credit card back to his wallet, and you could tell the words lady porn were repeating themselves over and over in his head.

Slowly, he turned to look at you as his wallet was once more in his pocket, a look of confusion taking root on his face, licking his lips. “…what...?” Shaking his head, “Sorry, but I thought I heard…. What?”

Oh, it was too funny.

Your lips stretched into a grin, forcing you to bite your lower lip before you repeated yourself. “I…write lady porn for a living. That’s what I do, that’s why they invite me.”

“…lady porn.”

“Mmhm.”

His lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, eyeing you up and down. “…what, like… Uh… Playboy or, er, Playgirl or something like that…?”

You burst out laughing at that, covering your mouth, “No!”

His smile broke out, a brightness in his eyes as he, too, burst out laughing. “Well! What do you mean by that — Lady porn?! What does that…? I don’t understand, I saw a book!”

You had covered your face as your shoulders shook. Prompting his brows to raise in a look of total offense he couldn’t even muster to look genuine.

“Don’t laugh, please don’t laugh at me. What does that mean?” His tone was desperate, elevating in pitch that, you had to admit, was quite cute.

“It means I do write books. I write erotic books. Erotica. Like… Total literary porn but with a good dash of plot if anyone even reads them for that. I’m not strictly in the adult entertainment industry like that, although…”

You gave a shrug, thinking about it, “It’s not a bad idea… I could probably write the hell of a porn scene, like… Passionate, definitely made for women type of stuff. But no, not me, I just… I write characters or a character that is pretty free with her inhibitions and unapologetically likes sex and likes it a lot. So… yeah, that’s me.”

“Right…” He chuckled, nodding a bit, “Okay… Yeah, that… That’s makes more sense…” His lips spread in a smile as he looked at you. “I wasn’t really expecting that…”

“I mean, I could have said romance which is definitely the blanket term which…” You sighed, “I mean, I guess, technically I could say that… Less of a reaction if I did, I’m sure… But…” A soft shake of your head comes, “The ones that try and blanket their work as romance always seem…”

Licking your lips as you try to come up with the right words. “I don’t know… Kind of ashamed of their work. Like if it’s about sex, it’s… Cheap… Tawdry form of art or… The dreaded ‘not real writing’. Like if the story of two people meeting, connecting with one another in the most primal and human way is somehow less than if that same story were told but the focus not being about sex but instead the focus being this…” You sighed, “I don’t know, flowery, almost virginal point of view with characters that are just perfect and have no flaws. Selling on the story of true love fixes all when… Sometimes love just isn’t enough. I get the appeal, don’t get me wrong, we all want a little fantasy but… I don’t know, there’s just this double standard in the industry. That to be seen as a true writer, you can’t make the emphasis on passion and desire, but you are if what you write about is how someone completes you and I…”

His smile was gentle, warm, the chuckle escaping him matched it. “That’s… That’s not you.”

“No…” you answered, a sly smile to your face. “I’m not or ever will be ashamed that I write hot ass smut.”

“I…” he started, his grin wide and eyes twinkling with utter amusement. “I can’t say for sure or not, but I definitely don’t doubt it.” Brows raising in thought, his smile turning a bit mischievous, “Then again… I could go ahead and buy your books, couldn’t I? To know for sure, completely and without question…”

Taking in a deep breath, ignoring the sense of panic at the mere thought of him reading your work, you tried to play it cool, shaking your head. “Oh, I don’t know if you could handle it, honestly? I mean… Your immediate go to for porn were playboy, or, er, playgirl… You’re kinda behind the times.”

“Oh, am I?” his face still the perfect image of amused. “Would you rather I whip out names like, brazzers or something?”

A dramatic eye roll given, “God, you would go for brazzers. All men go for brazzers.”

“Oh, is that unoriginal for you? And you would go for…?”

“Mmm… Nubiles, Vixen… Adult Time can be good… For straight, porn, anyway. Bellesa is doing good...” You look at his face and you laugh. “Am I shocking you that I know this many labels of porn creators?”

“A bit, yeah!” he barked out with a laugh. “I, erm… Just that… You watch porn.”

“I write porn, so of course I watch it. How else am I supposed to write out the sexual depravity that my readers secretly yearn for but would never say out loud? That’s my job, I give it to them, make them explore a bit of themselves they never voiced or would even admit to their own damn selves. It’s selfless work.”

He practically giggled. You made this man giggle. Looking incredulously at you, leaning back, shaking his head, “Oh, now I’ve got to read your stuff. It’s a need, now. As soon as we…ever finish this conversation, I’m going to my kindle. Though, I do like the physicality of reading an actual book most of the time…”

“Well, I am selling them in the dealer’s room… I even have an in for them to be personally signed by the author. She’s hard up for money and attention, so…” You shrugged.

His hand dramatically smacked against his own chest, right over his heart, “I would be honored to have personally signed copies of that particular author’s works. I heard very good things. And then I can fully understand what the fuck is lady porn and see if I become a whole new man after I do.”

“Love to hear it, if you manage it over the weekend… At least your taste in porn would improve.”

His ears were burning, smiling wide and looking down for a moment. Positively bashful at the comment, licking his lips. “Did that, um… Probably not, I mean, you just admitted to watching a fair bit of it, but um… I mean… Though you are sort of insulting my supposed lack of porn knowledge—”

“Supposed? Are you saying you’ve seen more than you’ve let on?”

The smirk he let out was like that of a young schoolboy that was up to no good. “…no. Well… Maybe—I mean, if I did, would that… Would you…” He huffed a small laugh, “I don’t even know what I’m trying to say, it feels ridiculous…”

“Oh,” you let out, quickly understanding. “Are you, like… Are you worried whatever version of you inside my head is shattered on the fact that… I don’t know… That you watch porn, even basic porn, and are not, in fact, squeaky clean bordering on virginal?”

“…basically, yeah.”

You had to laugh, even a little bit, “Oh, you’re cute.”

“Stop it.”

“No,” you laughed. Realizing you needed to elaborate on that singular no. “I mean… No, there is no…shattering of whatever image of you out there or… I’m not disappointed or anything. Never thought you above porn, obviously. Or like… You’re so squeaky clean that I thought you wouldn’t…indulge. Fuck, I indulge… You’re grown, do what you want.”

“So… Doesn’t make you think less of me that I’m… Like I’m some big perv? Like um…”

“Oh, you are a big perv,” you laughed, “Remember? You were glued to the sight of my boobs, like…”

He burst out laughing, a grin on your face.

“You, Joseph Quinn, are an absolute pervert. And that’s okay.”

“…god, I’m never living that down, am I? Not ever? You’re going to go through life and just, whenever I’m brought up, just… ‘Oh, yeah, I met him once. A fucking caveman of a perv just looking at my tits.’ Amazing impression I’ve left.” You snickered, “One hell of a role model of a human being.”

“Shut up, it’s not terrible. Makes you human, you know? Honestly? It’s kinda…” And you trail off, your words halting.

And he catches it, of course, he catches it. Big brown eyes lighting up, looking at you, expectantly.

Your lips twitch, the words burning on your tongue, your bold, up-front attitude begging you to say it. Maybe he’ll be flattered, or perhaps it would catch him off guard that you’d see his ears get all pink and cute and it could be a nice memory for you to hold on to. But there was a part of you that was holding back. That didn’t want to veer into the realm of being cringe, though you hated the term and what it’s become. You wanted to be authentic, wanted to be yourself.

You wanted to say that the fact he was a bit of a perv… Was actually kind of hot.

The fact that you liked that he thought with his dick, that he wasn’t some baby girl type of man that you had to censor yourself around. That he could say fuck and wanted to get fucked. That he wasn’t the persona you saw on hundreds of TikTok’s on your for you page. Not fitting the narrative so many of his fans projected onto him. That he could be crude. He liked tits. Probably ass, too. Maybe even a leg man. Liked porn, wouldn’t mind reading your porn, if he was being honest about that.

The fact that all of that was very… Very hot to you was alarming enough that you just didn’t want to speak it out loud.

He was just being nice. And you didn’t want to say or do anything that would make him…not want to be nice.

Luckily, very luckily, your food was brought to the counter, veering both of you off topic.

Thank God.

Sliders, loaded fries, drinks and…a very generous slice of the chocolate ganache ricotta cheesecake — with caramel drizzle. You smiled, looking from the plates set in front of you back to Joseph. “Guess our conversation has come to an end. I should get this back to my very hungry friends by now.”

He gave a nod, smiling gently, though there was a sense of disappointment in his gaze at you. “…I have to get a hold of my mate, as well.” He watched as you stared at the plates, holding the sliders in one hand, the loaded fries in the other, still leaving the three drinks and the cheesecake. Biting his lip, he picked those right up, catching your eye with a smile. “Let me help you to your table, yeah? It’s practically on my way out.”

You furrowed your brow, “Are you sure? I can always make two trips or even text my friend to come help me—”

“Nah, we could do it just fine, I think. It’s no trouble, I promise.”

Part of you wanted to protest, insist that you could do it on your own or even bring Jen or Gerry along to help. You figured he had some place way more important to be, but the look of that smile on his face and his willingness to help… God, it wasn’t like you could say no, could you? A relenting breathy laugh flowed from you, as well as the relaxing of your shoulders. “That…would be amazing, actually… Thank you.” With a smirk, you added, “Your mum definitely raised you right.”

“Oh, can I tell her you said that? I think she worries, sometimes…”

His cheeky smile makes you laugh, only allowing the smile to grow wider. You started off on your path, allowing him to follow.

Licking his lips after a few steps, he took a deep breath. “Fake Taxi.”

That caused you to pause a moment, looking back at him, clearly confused.

He chuckles, nudging your shoulder. “…it’s not just brazzers, it’s… Sometimes it’s Fake Taxi.”

It clicks, and you let out a snort. “…really? Huh… I watch that sometimes, too…” You start walking again, spotting the jovial look on his face. “Do I have to sign an NDA now that you’ve confessed that Joseph Quinn watches porn? Wouldn’t want that all over the internet…”

“I don’t think you’d disappoint my mum like that… I am her baby boy, after all…” he let out as you let out a laugh. “And… Oddly… I kinda trust you.”

There was a warmth the sparked within you, not up your neck or on your face… But within your chest, surprising yourself. Taking a deep breath, you let out a sigh. “Well… It would ruin people’s image of you being so babygirl, so… I wouldn’t dare be the reason behind that.”

He let out a sigh, “Babygirl, really? I don’t even get Babyboy? Or man. Babyman?”

You know he’s trying to be cute, and he in fact, very much is, and you can’t help but let out a small laugh, turning to look at him. “…you really standing there in front of me, preferring to be called Babyman?”

“Not good?” he said with such a serious face, that it becomes comical to you. “Think I should go with something else? You’re the writer, what do you suggest?”

“From my ongoing conversation with you? Manchild.”

He let out a gasp, an actual gasp, looking at you with a hurt expression. “That hurt.”

“For someone that’s so dead set against being called babygirl… You sure are acting very babygirl.”

He tutted, “For the last time… I’m manly. Maybe you should spread the word. Do a TikTok.” Though the smile on his face gave the impression he didn’t mind, carrying on behind you, walking through the throngs of people, still… Avoiding the crack in the floor and further and further along toward your table.

You saw Jen and Gerry straight away, but there was a third person, very tall. Lanky, even. Speaking animatedly so much that his arms were almost flailing about and from what you could tell from Jen’s face, telling a rather intriguing story. Shoulder length blond hair swayed with his movements, a rich voice starting to cut through the crowd. It was familiar. You recognized him, you think. There isn’t much you can tell from the back of someone’s head. It wasn’t until…

“Jamie?” came Joseph’s voice beside you and that’s when the other turned around and those bright blue eyes confirmed it for you.

That was Jamie fucking Campbell-Bower.

V e c n a, himself.

“Mate!” Joseph let out, putting the trays he had on your table, putting his hands on Jamie’s shoulder. “Where the fuck have you been, yeah? Been waiting for you, meaning to call you, but...” Whether he intended to or not, his eyes flickered toward you for a split second, before going back toward his mate. “…got distracted. Where you been?”

“Right!” he let out, his hands grasping at Joseph’s forearms, “Sorry! Meant to call as well, signing went a bit longer than expected. Mobile completely died…”

“Oh, so, even if I called you…”

“Yeah, you’d been fucked, mate, sorry.”

He laughed, “Well, I feel not as bad, now, cheers.”

Jamie laughed, patting his arm, “Well, we found one another now and —” turning toward your table, “Mobile’s been charged.”

“Me,” Jen let out, “Because of me, because I have a portable charger on me, hi,” looking directly at you. Eyes wide, and an expression that was genuinely screaming — you’ve got some explaining to do, Miss.

You let out a grin, returning the look pointedly at her, wondering what your life was right now. “Always bring a portable charger,” you let out, placing the trays in your hands to join the ones that Joseph let down. Turning to Joseph, you gestured toward your friends, “So, these are the hungry friends I was trying to get more food to… My best friend Jen and her forever fiancé, Gerry.”

He immediately let go of Jamie and toward them, “Hello! Hi, lovely to meet you,” shaking their hands warmly. “Right, well, I’m Joe.”

“Oh, we know,” Jen let out, a smile on her face looking from Joe and to you. “Yeah, we know who you are.”

Wench.

“Nice to meet you,” Gerry interjected, thankfully, shaking his hand. “We loved Eddie, you did such a cool job, amazing job. When we all watched it, one of the specific things that struck me was like… Eddie was so someone I knew in high school, like, you got that down, it was really cool.”

You watched as Joseph put his hand over his heart, his face melting, “Oh my god, thank you, that’s very kind. Yeah, I’ve been getting that a lot, and it honestly means so much. I’m glad…” A soft laugh let out, “Whatever I did, it’s honestly a blur sometimes, resonated so much, thank you.” Taking a deep breath, “Now,” a step back, his fingers swaying between Jamie and Gerry, “…you two seemed a bit familiar, there a story there? I’m not jealous, but…” His back straightened, looking between the two, “I sort of am.”

“Joseph, you know you’re my favorite boy.”

“I demand answers.”

“I demand you not be so fucking rude, hi,” Jamie let out, turning to you with a warm smile and a hand, “Since I was going to wait forever, I’ll introduce myself,” pausing for the snort Joseph let out. “I’m Jamie, love,” he chuckled through. “Nice to meet you, how are you?”

You laughed, taking his hand and shaking it, “I’m amazing, lovely to meet you. And since we’re blowing up Joseph’s ass,” you started, getting a laugh out of that from the boys, “Can I say… Your casting was fucking brilliant. The way how soft One was when he was just the orderly? If I was looking into those big blue eyes, I would have believed anything he said, so good on you.”

 Jamie laughed, holding your hand even tighter in his grip. “Oh, that’s so lovely of you! Warms my heart to hear that.”

“Honestly, I mean it, and that whole reveal with Vecna, One, Henry, that was so beautiful.”

“Yes, it was… Honestly so pleased how it turned out. And I did enjoy doing the whole monologue with Henry, really getting to know how his mind works. Thank you, I appreciate that so much, darling.”

Joseph took in a deep breath, “Yeah, this is why I didn’t introduce you, mate.”

You snorted, looking over at him and stuck out your tongue. “Anyway… And despite him being rude… I concur, you two looked like you knew one another… But that’s impossible because Gerry would never let that slip his mind to not even mention to us…” your words trailed, as you looked to the man in question, narrowing your eyes. “…yes, you fucking would, actually.”

Taking a deep breath, Gerry scratched the back of his neck. “We… Well… We kinda played a few clubs together, a few years back… During one of my tours…”

“Shit,” Joseph let out, recognition hitting him. “You’re in that band. With your brother, yeah? You’re a musician. Fuck, you look different.”

A sheepish smile came over Gerry’s face, “Oh… Yeah, I’m kinda known for being wildly inconsistent with my looks, at least back then.” Looking over at Jamie, “How’s the music coming along?”

“Oh, chaotic, as usual, but fun but definitely still going, though very slowly. Which I sort of enjoy, no need to rush it.”

“Slow and steady,” Jen supplied, looking directly at you which only made you narrow your eyes.

Choosing to ignore it, knowing exactly what she was driving at. “Sorry, sorry, I’m still going over the fact that you two,” a swaying hand between Jamie and Gerry, “…know each other. I mean, I kinda expect it, but the fact that,” pointing at Jen, “Did you know this?”

“No,” she said sternly, her brows risen as she said it. “Trust me, it was just as big of a surprise to me, too.” Turning to her fiancé, she cleared her throat. “We’re gonna have a big talk about this.”

“We’ve could’ve had Jamie Campbell Bower on a podcast, and you just sat on that information?! Dishonor on you and your whole ass family. Except Jen. Obviously.”

“You have a podcast?” You heard Joe practically squeak, Jamie laughing soon after.

Smiling a bit, you turn to him, “I have a bit of everything. Some of us embrace the internet and don’t act like some babyface boomers.”

Jamie cackled, his hand patting Joe on the back as he stood there, staring at you in a mock offended expression on his face as he let out, “How… Fucking… dare you.”

“I don’t know, mate, she seems to got you clocked,” Jamie let out, giving an approving nod. “Spot on, love.”

Joseph let out a sigh, “…oh, you’re all against me.”

“Well,” you replied, “You just make it both easy and so much fun.”

Jamie crossed his arms, looking between the two of you, “Okay, well, got me curious, how’s this come about?”

Joe let out a chuckle, “Jealous, are we?”

“A bit, you’re my precious boy —” his smile breaking out as he looked at you, “I’m just curious, crazy coincidence? Or serendipity.”

But before you could even attempt to answer, Joe beat you to it. “Oh, I saved her.”

You watched as Jen’s eyes widened, head tilting and worry on her face, “Excuse me, what?”

“The floor,” Joe started, “…attacked her. Almost sent her to her death, but I was there.”

And just like that, the worry fled her face as she let out a sigh. “The boots?”

“That and a crack on the floor, yeah. Or just uneven flooring. I don’t know, the tip of my boot hit it and yes, Joe was there and…caught me when I fell.”

You hated the way Jen’s face lit up at that. You’ve known her for so long that you knew the wheels were turning in her head. Soon enough, she let out, “Wow, that sounds… Absolutely storybook. You should write about it.”

Oh, if looks could kill… Or at the very least give a light smack of the head. “It was very…serendipitous.”

“It was good luck,” Joseph let out, clearing his throat. “Just plain good luck,” pointing a look at you.

That made you smile as you looked over at him, “Again, thanks for saving me.”

Chuckling softly, he gave a nod, “Well, that would’ve been embarrassing, I hear. Dying on your birthday, glad to help avoid that.”

If your eyes hadn’t been so trained on Joseph, you would have seen the look between Jen and Gerry, though you knew… You knew… As soon as it was just the three of you, the questions would come bombarding you. You couldn’t even blame them, really. This was easily the most insane few moments you’ve ever experienced. And it wasn’t quite over, yet, as Jamie slapped his hands on Joseph’s shoulders, eyes wide, “Joseph, you’re a hero now? Fancy that.”

“Are you proud, Papa?” he asked cheekily, looking up at him.

“Insanely, always knew you were so good.” Both chuckling at each other, before Jamie’s blue eyes found you. “And you! Happy Birthday, I hope it’s a good one.” He pointed at the slice of cheesecake, “Is that your birthday treat?”

“I was noticing that,” Jen chirped, “Treating yourself?”

“Actually…”

“I bought it for her, put it on my tab,” Joe answered, notably avoiding any glances before gently patting Jamie’s cheek, making him blink and look incredulously at him. “Oi, we got to book it,” he managed to get out before having a chuckle. “I got that panel in a few hours, but we wanted to…”

“Oh, right, that place, yeah…” Looking at the three of you, he smiled politely, “Sorry, would’ve loved to have a sit down but we really wanted to check out —”

“Jamie, no,” Joe let out, shaking his head, and looking at you with squinty eyes. “…. she’ll make fun of us.”

You have out a gasp, your hand over your heart, “How dare… I mean, probably.” It was your turn to narrow your eyes, looking at them both. “…it’s something British, isn’t it?”

Lifting his chin up, Joseph placed a finger against his lips and then a zipping of lips flourish which made you chuckle. His smile spread wide as he gave you a wink. “Happy Birthday. See you around the circus.”

“Wave a white flag if you need help,” you told him, watching the flash of his teeth as he dragged Jamie away who waved at you all. You couldn’t help it, watching after him until he was out of sight. Mainly because you couldn’t quite comprehend what just happened between the two of you, and the other part…

God, now you had to face Jen.

Your best friend in the world, sitting back in her seat with the most shit eating grin you had ever seen in your life. Letting out a soft groan, you sat down, pushing the burgers and sliders towards her — though you grabbed one for yourself. Taking a bite and with a flourish of your hand, gestured toward her. “Go ahead.”

“You fell into his fucking arms?!” was her immediate start. Her face disbelieving, a laugh struggling to come out. “That is why your ass was taking so long?”

“Hey, I almost died.”

“But you didn’t. And why? Because you had Mister Tall, British Man there to catch you when you fell!” Shaking her head, taking a slider and taking a bite but still looking at you.

The smile couldn’t help but form on your lips, shaking your head, “It was…a surreal moment.”

“It was a Jane Austen kinda moment.”

“He definitely has those vibes.”

“Dare we say like a Bridget Jones and Mark Darcy kinda vibe?”

You shook your head, “Wasn’t embarrassing enough for that. I’d have to had my boob fall out or show off my chonies or something like that. He’d make an awesome Mark Darcy, though.”

“He’d like you. Just as you are.”

“Fuck off,” you laughed, your attention going to Gerry, “But also, seriously, never mentioned the whole Jamie thing? We all saw Stranger Things together, dude.”

He held his hands up, “Hey, I meet a lot of people and you both know I hate name dropping.”

Sighing, looking at Jen, “Of all the musicians you had to fall for, you get the modest emo one.”

She sighed, looking at Gerry, “I know. The heart wants what it wants and we just gotta deal with it.”

“Love you, too.” Gerry leaning back in his seat, “Fine, maybe I could ask if he wants to sit in on a podcast, he might be really fun for you guys, actually.”

“Or Joe,” Jen lets out, smiling like the Cheshire cat at you. “Fess up. Did you get that man’s number?”

You snorted, looking at her with an arched brow. “Oh, I love that you think that I would even attempt to shoot my shot with him. Are you kidding? Do you know how many people in this vicinity that want to dick that man down? And the fact he’d probably turn them all down to dick down someone entirely not of our league, like an actress, model, singer… No. No, I did not score his number. I didn’t even ask for a photo.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t ask for a photo?! Like c’mon, he totally would have said yes.”

“I don’t know!” you said, finishing off the slider, giving a shrug. “I… I didn’t even think about it, honestly? Though, someone did approach and somewhere there is a pic of me and a pic of him with someone. One of my folks, a reader.”

You watched as Jen’s face switched from outraged to something resembling…pride. “Oh wow, that’s kinda cool.” Letting out a sigh, “You still should have…. I don’t know, if you weren’t going to get his number, at least a photo or something.”

“I got a cheesecake, and… Honestly… We talked, like, a lot.” You smiled, shaking your head. “He’s… He’s pretty cool, actually. Funny, too. More than those interviews usually show… I rather have had the conversation than like, a photo or a number that… Let’s face it. He’d either give me a fake one or change it overnight. Or ghost me, if he’s the type. It was good, the moment we had. I enjoyed it.”

“That’s all that matters,” Gerry let out, looking to Jen with as stern a look he could muster. “That’s all that matters.” He paused a moment, looking at you. “He smiled at you a lot though. There was definitely…something between you two.”

“Oh, God.”

“Right? Right?!” Jen practically squealed, “I knew it, I saw it, too! This is why I love you.” Gerry raised his brows, “One of many reasons! I promise.”

“You guys are way off. He’s just really nice, that’s all. But I’m glad he was. If he turned out to be a dick, that would be devastatingly heartbreaking.”

They both gave a relenting nod, eating their food for a moment while you dug into your cheesecake. Though you hadn’t meant to, your mind sort of swirled with little replays of that whole experience with him. The sound of his laugh, his smile, his eyes. Smiling a bit to yourself as you take that first bite, a small groan of appreciation.

It tastes sweeter than you remembered.

Your mind not daring to venture as to why, but you knew.

“He’s not my type—”

“Yeah,” you started, “We saw how you were looking at Jamie—”

“Shut up,” Jen told you, amongst your cackling, though she relented, “Okay, yeah, but… Joseph looked good… Like… With the beard and hair, you know what he looked like, right?”

“Enjolras,” you gave out, quite dreamily, without even taking a beat. “He was giving Enjolras.”

You could see Jen’s pearly teeth in her smile as she leaned forward, “You fucking love Enjolras.”

Your lips struggled to contain the smile that came out from the statement, the very true statement. Couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to. She was there when you all binge watched Les Misérables and watched him on screen, your eyes never leaving him, unashamedly.

“Enjolras is fucking hot,” you relent. “He was very hot…”

He still is.

Breaking out of the trance that induced you into, dragging reality to crash down into you. “Not that it matters. He’s probably… No, you know, it doesn’t even matter if he’s dating someone or not, it’s not… I’m not looking for anything and… No point in even entertaining anything otherwise. I’ll probably see him passing by through the con and nothing more than that, so… Yes, he’s hot, and very nice and…”

He smelled good. Like very good.

“You purring?”

Grabbing your straw, opening the end and blowing through it as the paper wrapper hit her so perfectly. Making her laugh. “You know what? Fuck off, firstly. And to prove that I know nothing will come of this, so it won’t be awkward… And a bit of an ego boost for me…” You licked your lips, a momentary sense of guilt, but, continuing anyway. “You know how he was there to catch me? He was walking and saw my boobs and was distracted so much that he was just there when I tripped.”

Sorry, Joseph. But it really wasn’t like you were going to see him again. And it really was too good to not share eventually.

“No!” your friend gasped.

“Oh, wow,” Gerry let out. “You guys know I’m still here, right?”

Ignoring him, you nodded, “Yup. Joseph Quinn? Total tit man.”

“Spellbound by the chichis,” Jen laughed. “I mean, wench, they do look nice in that top, not gonna lie.”

“And that totally saved my life, probably, maybe. Saying that, stays with us, don’t wanna spread that around. He did save my life, and,” gesturing towards your boobs as you sat back. “You’re right. Can’t blame him.” A soft chuckle emerges just as you feel the strong vibration of your phone. Shit. Telemarketer? Sister? Dad? Sitting up and digging into your pocket, you recognized the contact as none of the previously mentioned. “It’s the con peeps,” you let out, accepting the call. “Hey, what’s up, did we get bumped off?”

“Hey, sorry, no, not that. We’re uh, we’re kinda in a bind.”

Looking over at Jen and Gerry, you raised a brow, “What kinda bind?”

“Shelly had to pull out. Or, um… Well, she had a sort of…emergency…”

Your eyes narrowed as that sounded ominous. “…what kind of emergency?”

“…the…bring a new life into the world kinda emergency.”

“Aww!” came your immediate response. “Oh, that’s great, god, I saw her earlier, she seemed so miserable being in this heat and over her due date—Oh.” You let out a hiss, “Oh yeah, yeah that sucks for you guys.”

“Yeah, it’s great for her, but, not so much for us, so… She had a panel that she was gonna moderate in a few hours. And you’re always good about filling in and it won’t interfere with any of your bookings or anything like that and you’re always so good with them… Can you cover it for her?”

“They want me to cover a panel,” you explained to your friends, covering the bottom half of your phone before getting back to the call. “Um, yeah, sure, she’s always good with notes so I won’t be completely in the dark.”

“You’ll be great, just, you know, maybe… Tone it down a bit?”

“Oh god, are there going to be children? I can’t… I mean I can try and censor myself, but you know what I’m like when I really get going.”

“I know, but we’re really in a bind…”

“You’ve said that. I’m like your last resort, aren’t I?”

“…I’m not going to say yes, but I’m also definitely not gonna say no…”

“I do love your honesty. Okay. Yeah, it could be fun. I had a big gap between tonight’s panel anyway, I could squeeze one in between. When is it?”

“A couple of hours, thank you! We were scrambling. Getting desperate, we really didn’t want to cancel.”

“I got you guys. Is it a group panel or…”

“No, no, it’s a solo one, one actor, a whole hour and vetted questions from the audience. It’s that guy from Stranger Things? New to the cons, he played Eddie Munson? It’s going to be a big crowd…”

Oh, there was a buzzing in your head. Looking over at your friends who looked a bit concerned right back at you.

Oh, god.

What even was your life?

It had to be a joke, right? Some cosmic joke that whatever higher being was up there, so bored that he decided to just fuck with your life.

And on your birthday.

On your birthday!

“…yeah. Yeah. I’ll be there.”

Jesus H. Christ.

What the fuck.

What the fuck?

[arizona2004]

Everything’s gonna be okay

Azriel x pregnant fem!reader

Word Count: 1996

Based on this request: “Can you write something about Azriel x reader, where she is pregnant and he is scared about his past P.s. I love how you write😍” by @lys-neyr8 

please excuse any errors I did not proof read in the slightest

Waiting for Madja to return feels like it takes an eternity. I breathe in and out in an attempt to calm myself of the nerves. Ever since the nausea and vomiting started, I've been terrified. Fae don’t usually get sick, so I knew this couldn’t be good, and I’ve been doing everything in my power to hide it from my mate. Which is difficult when said mate is the Spymaster for the Highlord of the Night Court.

I breathe in one more final time as Madja opens the door to the exam room, greeting me with a small smile where I sit on the bed-like table. I unknowingly hold the breath in as Madja speaks.

“There’s nothing wrong.”

I let out the breath in a shaky, confused gasp.

“But- I throw up every day, and I’m nauseous. The stomach flutters-”

“Are all the symptoms.”

My mind raises, confused at everything Madja is telling me. As soon as I started noticing the strange symptoms, I knew I had to come to Madja. She’s the best healer the Night Court has and is always available to help the inner circle.

“I don’t- I don’t understand.”

“You are not ill, Y/N. You’re pregnant.” 

Too many emotions rush through me for me to be able to filter them all at once, but as soon as I come to my senses, I throw a wall up on my side of the bond-blocking Azriel from sensing anything else from me. 

“I’m… pregnant?”

“Yes,” Madja says patiently before revealing some pamphlets. “These are the best midwives in Velaris, in my opinion. They’re all a little different; some specialize in water births or go about the practice in slightly different ways. You can look through these and meet with them before you decide.”

“I don’t understand.” Madja stops speaking when I interrupt her and furrows her brow at me. “How?”

“How?” she repeats, confused, “well, you and you’re mate are having sex, I presume. And when-”

“No,” I interrupt, “No, I know how babies are made. I just- we’re both taking contraceptive tonics.”

“Oh-” is all Madja says for a moment before taking a deep breath and starting again. “Those are very effective but not a 100% guarantee. Not to mention that one or both of you could have forgotten a time or two. There are many ways something could have been affected to cause this, but none of that matters now.” 

She takes another deep breath before continuing. “I don’t usually have to offer this because faelings are so rare to come by, so accidental pregnancies are even rarer, but you do have options, Y/N.”

“Options?”

“Yes. There’s a potion of sorts that I can brew for you. It would get rid of the child without harming you at all.”

“Get rid of?” I ask, the information not processing in my brain. “No- I don’t think- I don’t want to do that.”

“Okay. Then I’ll leave these with you,” she says, handing the papers to me. “And if you have any questions, I’ll do my best to answer them, but a midwife is far more knowledgable in childbirth than me.”

I nod, unable to do anything else, and tuck the papers into my bag.

—

It’s been a few days since I found out about the baby growing inside of me, but decide every attempt I’ve made to tell my mate, he still doesn't know. Anxious thoughts filter through my head one after another as I lay beside him, pretending to sleep.

“You can tell me anything.” The sound of his voice shocks me, making my heart skip a beat in my chest.

“Wh-what?” I ask, turning on our bed to face him.

“Somethings bugging you. It has been for days. You can tell me whatever it is, Y/N. If you want.”

“I do want to,” I say, but I can’t make myself actually tell him.

“Y/N,” his voice is soft as it whispers my name. His hand is gentle on my cheek, brushing away the single tear that has fallen. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I-” I take a deep breath in and reveal my secret on the exhale of it, “I’m pregnant.”

Azriel’s hand freezes where it is brushing through the locks of my hair. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move. I don’t even think he’s breathing.

“Azriel-” he sits up abruptly, cutting off the words trying to escape my throat. “Please-”

“We’ve been taking-”

“Madja says they’re not 100% effective. Accidents happen.”

“Okay,” he sounds eerily calm.

“Okay?”

“It’s fine. This is fine, but we’re both tired. Let’s got to sleep and discuss it more in the morning.”

His voice is so monotonous that I lose the ability to speak. I lay back down on the bed instead and let exhaustion sweep me into the comforting embrace of sleep.

When I awake the next morning Azriel is not beside me. He’s not anywhere in our house, and terror rushes through me with terrible thoughts. Just as the thoughts of abandonment rush into my head, though, Azriel appears in a cloud of shadows directly in front of me.

“What’s wrong?” his voice is higher than usual, panic lacing every rise and fall of it. “Is it the baby? Are you hurt?”

“Wh-what?” 

His hands start roaming my body, tracing every inch of my skin, searching for any injury. Something he doesn’t find. “What’s wrong?” His brow is furrowed, “I felt your panic-”

“Where were you?” I cut him off, anger replacing my fear. “I thought you left, Az. Last night…” I trail off as tears well up in my eyes and look away, refusing to let him see how badly he hurt me.

Quickly though, he pulls me into his arms, squeezing me tightly. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m not going anywhere.” I hear the truth in his voice, and I know he wouldn’t lie to me so blatantly, but I also know there’s something he’s not saying, and when he speaks again, I can’t help but wonder if he’s trying to convince me or himself. “Everything is gonna be okay.”

—

“Okaayy,” Patrice says in her too-high voice, drawing out the word for too long. I have to suppress my smile as she does it because Az has expressed to me many times just how much it annoys him. “Everything is looking good. Your baby is exxactlyy in the position we would expect. They are a liitttle bigger than is normal, but that’s probably just genetic,” she finishes with a small glance to Az but quickly returns her gaze to me. “Everything is perfectly in order, and I don’t have anything else for you today. Any new questions?”

I shake my head, ready to finish this appointment with the midwife and go to lunch with my husband. I already asked most of the questions my soon-to-be mother brain could come up with in the early months. Now six months along, I’m not sure I haven’t read every book on this that there is. 

Azriel’s worse than me, though. I find him with a new book or pamphlet every day, notes in the margins, and sentences highlighted all over the place. He’s always frantically checking on me and trying to do everything perfectly. The look in his eyes always leads me to ask why but he still won’t open up about what’s bothering him, only reassuring me that everything is “going to be okay.”

As we exit  Patrice's office Az lets out a deep sigh beside me, “Remind me again why you had to pick her to be the midwife.”

“She’s the most compatible with my birth plan. And she’s good at her job, even if her voice and speaking mannerisms annoy you.”

“I know,” he grumbles, guiding me toward my favorite restaurant without even having to ask.

—

“Oh, oh, oh!” Mor exclaims from across the store, “You have to get this one! It’s so cute.”

“Oh, that’s adorable,” Feyre agrees from your side as the cute onesie Mor is holding comes into view. It is a dark blue with stars covering it, and the butt has three little mountains and three stars bigger and brighter than the others above them. 

“Okay,” I agree because it is too cute to pass up on, “ but you guys have got to start picking out things with pre-made wing holes. I don’t want to have to get everything tailored.”

“Sorry, Y/N, but I’m not counting how many holes the outfits have. I’m just trying to pick out the cutest things so that your baby is the best dressed in Velaris.”

I laugh at her comment and walk past her on my way to get the items on the shopping list. We spend the rest of the picking out the perfect combination of cute and practical baby must-haves. I pay for the large items in-store but make arrangements to have them shipped to the house I own with my mate and leave with the girls, our arms full of bags of tiny outfits.

When we get back to the house they help me lug everything inside and up to the nursery but then run off to their own homes, leaving me to finally fall asleep in my large and comfortable bed. 

When I wake a short while later, the sun is still up but is steadily making its way toward the horizon. Az is nowhere to be found in our room, so I pull myself from the comfort of the bed and lumber toward the door.

As I walk into the hall, I notice the light of the nursery is on, the door cracked open slightly. I walk toward it and peek my head in, only to find my mate on the floor, a onesie clasped tightly in his grasp.

“Az?” I ask quietly, pushing the door open further. I move to kneel beside him and lift his tear-stained face to face mine. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re so small,” he chokes out. The baby is going to be so tiny. What if I break them?”

“Az-” I try to say something to reassure him, but his eyes grow wide with fear, and all of his panic-filled thoughts finally rush to the surface.

“What if I’m a horrible father? What if I do everything wrong and turn out as bad as my father?”

“Azriel!”

“No! Maybe it’s in my blood. I never had a good father figure in my life. I could end up ruining our feeling’s life.”

“You won’t!” I tell him.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. I do, Azriel. You are a good male. A good friend. A good mate and husband. You will be a wonderful father.” He’s shaking his head, refusing to look at me. I grip him by the chin and force his eyes to mine, gently stroking the tears from his cheeks. When the steady flow of saltwater has stopped, and he’s still looking at me; I grip his hands in mine and hold his gaze. “Bad fathers don’t worry about whether or not they're going to ruin their child's life. They don’t care. You’re doing everything right. You're trying your hardest to be good, and you’ve already proven that you love this baby, Azriel. That is all that matters. You care enough to try.

“Y/N-”

“Listen to me: everything is going to be okay. I know that now more than ever. I have never felt more sure of you in my life, Az. I love you. And our baby is going to love you. You won’t break them; if a big brute like Cas can take care of babies and hold them without accidentally crushing them, you definitely can.”

He chokes on a laugh, nodding his agreement as a smile wakes a small appearance on his lips. I know this isn’t the end of his worries and panic. But at least he’s a little reassured. At least we’re a little closer to believing we can do this. 

[ohmy7hearts]

Being the Batgirl to Damian Wayne includes:

A/N: Tbh, I had troubles thinking of starting this one considering how I wanted to leave out as many details about Batgirl’s past in this to make it as vague as possible so more people can relate to her. I hope it’s up to your liking! Want more, just send in a request.

Requested by: Anon

next

It all started when you were walking home alone this one night. It was always a bad idea to walk home alone, at night especially. To make matters worse, you were living in Gotham - the city with the highest crime rates

But, it was not you who was attacked; you were just a witness to someone being attacked and that someone was Batwoman

She was fighting off criminals in the alley you were walking past and it looked like she was handling it well

Starstruck, you hid behind some big rubbish bin to watch the fight unfold. It’s not every day or every night that you could see the Gotham heroes in action

However, while she was fighting the last huge (and rather determined to bring her down) criminal, she failed to notice the waking criminal from behind. He was about to stand and get the gun that was a few feet away from him so you did what you had to

Getting a metal pipe from the ground, you hit the guy on the head, knocking him out instantly

Hearing what happened, she whirled around mid-fight to see what happened and was surprised to see a little girl with a metal pipe. The head of the guy was bleeding slightly and she was beyond impressed

Criminals being criminals, took advantage of her shell-shocked state to get in a hit. You were faster than that - throwing the metal pipe like a frisbee, you smacked him in the head causing him to be dazed

Batwoman was brought back to reality and landed the finishing blow

She looked at you with a smirk painted on her face. She offered to walk you home because it was too dangerous for anyone, especially little kids, to be out and about

“I’m not just any little kid. I can take care of myself!” You puffed out your chest in pride. It was not just talk because growing up in Gotham, basic self-defense was a basic thing to know

She nodded along and asked you about yourself before the conversation spiraled down to about Batman and co.

“I can’t tell you anything about us, little one. But, if you did figure it out, maybe I can introduce him to you.”

She was joking. Really, but you took it seriously. You started investigating the moment you got home with a cup of hot chocolate to keep you awake

You started with theories. People who think was Batman and eliminating those without his build and around the height of six feet. Boy, did you not sleep that night and when it was time to go to school, you were exhausted and ready to crash at any moment

Trudging to school, your friends - oh how kind they were - pointed out the obvious fact of your eye bags and weariness. You merely nodded and grunted in response

They all stopped probing you about it when Damian Wayne walked past in all his glory causing your friends to swoon and whisper about him

And then light bulb! His hairstyle and build match to that of the current Robin. Deciding that his family was now the primary suspect, you observed him throughout the day

Luckily, you had most of your classes with him. Unfortunately, though, your friends thought that you finally jumped on the Damian Wayne bandwagon and made such a big fuss over it that the said devil himself was eyeing your group of friends

Considering how sleepy you were, gym class was a disaster. It was time for some dodgeball and the class was split into two with Damian in your team

You were almost hit by a ball and was about to get an out when the ball was grabbed by Damian and thrown back with deadly accuracy to the person who threw it

He rose an eyebrow at you and clicked his tongue before muttering under his breath which you heard clearly

So after gym, you went up to him in all your fury because lack of sleep did a number of your patience

“Did you just call me an incompetent player? Well, I apologise for not being up to your ridiculously high standards, your Highness.”

He was about to argue back but you were walking away from him. Annoyed, he was about to grab you by your arm but you dodged and glared at him

The acidic tone you used when you ordered him to don’t touch me had him flinching which was very uncommon for Damian

The rest of the school day did not go by very fast; your friends were wary around you, Damian was watching you like a hawk and the anger didn’t dissipate

When the school bell rang, you leaped off the chair and practically ran from school to a certain boxing centre

When the desk woman saw you, she smiled and waved you in. Greetings and smiles came from all the staff there as that was where you learned your basic self-defense and they all knew you well

Intrigued, Damian followed you there. After paying for his fees, he tracked you down and found you in a corner venting out your frustration

“TT, you’re doing it all wrong. Lower your hips more to gain more ground.”

You were startled to find him there, arms crossed and eyes judging your every move. All that confusion turn to annoyance

“Stalking me now, Wayne? How honoured I should feel. Just that, I am not.”

“TT, don’t flatter yourself, (L/N). I was merely finishing what you started.”

You rolled your eyes, “Of course, it runs in the Robin’s blood, doesn’t it? Just can’t break the habit of getting the last word can you.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and you just shrugged, laying down all the evidence of how obvious it was: Robin only appearing after Bruce Wayne had his first ward and his second ward’s death aligning very much to why Robin disappeared for some time before another Robin came around. A Robin with a better costume then another Robin with a change of costume and a Red Robin.

“Batwoman offered to introduce me to Batman if I figured it out. And seeing how defensive you are, I am guessing I am right.”

“She doesn’t have to bring you to him; I will.”

You were taken aback but after listening to his reasoning that not just anyone can just find out about our secret identity, you relented and followed him home

To say you were ecstatic was an understatement, it was like you cracked the Da Vinci code in just a day and without doing anything illegal like hacking into the City Hall database! Not like you actually can hack into it without leaving a trace

The ride there was silent after Alfred asking who you were and Damian labeling you as just a friend. You scoffed at that because you were not even friends, to begin with, you had better taste in friends

When you arrived at the manor, you were taking everything in. You were awed by how beautiful the ground was and the architecture but Damian continued to pester you about hurrying up and it just turned your mood sour

Damian barged into his father’s office who did not bother looking up as he merely asked what he wanted

“Father, she figured out who we are. She’s a threat if we don’t do anything about it.”

You were very offended, to say the least, because it sounded like he actually wanted to kill you just because you found out their family secret. That was most likely shown on your face because when Bruce looked up and see you, he chuckled

Being a gentleman, unlike his son, Bruce introduced himself and offered that you stayed for dinner which you accepted so you could poke fun at his son further seeing how disturbed he was by how laidback his father was about the whole situation

So you spent the next few hours with Damian doing homework, supposedly. It was a miracle you both did not kill each other. Alfred, however, was doubting with every passing second that you both could even make it to dinner without a scratch considering the crescendo voices coming from Damian’s room

When you and he made it to the dinner table, his family was already there with an exception of Cassandra, as you find out later on

Seeing three older brothers instead of two made you perplexed because didn’t one of them die??

“He was dead. Unfortunately, he was brought back to life.” Damian explained while pointing at the male with the white streak in his hair which prompted a verbal fight between the two

Dick was elated to find out that Damian was making friends and was overwhelming you with questions about his baby brother while Tim, on the other hand, was amused that someone other than him found out who Batman and Robin were

Being comfortable around the bunch of misfits, you confessed about Batwoman’s offer which irked Bruce

So when you were sent home - safe and sound - and it was time for patrol, Batman headed straight to Batwoman

Kate was astonished, not really apologetic, and discussed with Bruce about your potential to which Bruce agreed. She even joked that if Bruce had refused, she would have taken you under her wing herself. Batman was not amused

Unbeknownst to you, you were in for a ride

[pettyprocrastination]

Introductions Hc for Catfish x CamGirl!Reader

Just some basic hc on how you two met. Also yes the cam girl in this is a goth babe because I love goth women so so much. 

Warnings: uhhh poor descriptions of light smut?? sex work. We support sex workers in this house baby!!! Also sweet sweet frankie who we all need a hug from during these trying times. 

Taglist: @cinewhore​ i honestly can’t remember who’s on my perm tag list im gonna have to do a post for that as well fuck SORRY 

I actually had a lot of fun writing these so if you want to know more about frankie and BB (which will be her nickname for now) please hmu!!!

You and frankie don’t meet in person at first. He meets you through your (side)job, Which is doing online shows using (insert obligatory porn site here or onlyfans idk)

It’s late at night, frankie is home alone and scrolling through a site using the incognito mode on his phone. Nothing is doing it for him that night. Not that he’s particularly desensitized to sex, no. It’s quite the opposite. He’s so sick and tired of seeing the words “stepdaddy” and “unsuspecting” in the same sentence so many times it’s causing him to lose not only his hard-on but also his faith in humanity. 

He sees the option for live shows, thinks about it for a moment before saying fuck it why not and clicking the link that brings him to a page with photos covers of multiple scantily clad (if covered at all) women that were live. 

His own username was something simple, nothing with his name or nickname. Just Pilot368, because lord knows he wasn’t about to be one of the studs who had usernames like Pussydestroyer or CockKing6000.

He’d never watched live shows before, that brought a different element into it all. The sort of...welcomed voyeurism that he wasn’t sure how he felt about. Maybe he was overthinking it all, or maybe it just wasn’t his cup of tea until you showed up just under a girl wearing a pink dog collar. 

You were….not his usual tastes, to put it simply. 

The picture promoting your page was you sitting in a lacy black set up, thin lace frills framing your soft thighs and the slope of your breasts. You sat with your legs spread and tongue slipping past your black-painted lips. Between your legs sat a (he was assuming fake) skull that you held with curled fingers. 

Your Username was 🖤🦇BabyBat🦇🖤and frankie felt like a pervert for the way his cock throbbed. 

But he was alone, and he was horny. So he swallowed that self-loathing if only long enough for him to wrap his hand around his cock while your stream played. 

He thought you were pretty in the picture, but on live video? Watching you move yourself up and down on a toy while throwing your head back with breathless little whimpers and moans? Oh he’s a dead man. 

Comments came in a steady stream, many of which were calling you derogatory terms or telling you to move a certain way and some even suggested you alter certain things about your body. 

The first time he himself commented he over analyzed it for about five minutes. He didn’t want to say anything too lewd, even as you fucked yourself on a toy right before his eyes, he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or insecure. So, God bless his heart, frankie left a comment on a live video of you literally fucking yourself about how he thought your tattoo was “very cool.”

The moment he pressed enter he immediately wanted to shoot himself. “Very cool”? THAT’S the best he could come up with? He could just hear pope flaming his ass for it.

But he saw your face as you read the comment, and the smile that grew at it. 

You laughed, one that reached your eyes and made frankie feel filthy about stroking his cock to it. “Oh thank you!” You let one hand trail down your stomach until your fingers found your clit and you arched your back, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked at the camera. 

“You're too sweet to me honey.”

Maybe it was the slight shake in your thighs as you rode the toy, or the way you never look away from the camera, and in turn from him, or maybe the way your voice, rich and dark and smooth, would raise into a little whine as you neared your end, but it pushed him over the edge, falling into hot waves of pleasure that ebbed and flowed as he came into his fist and imagined that it was you. 

The moment he sobered up, and realized it wasn’t in fact you, but he was simply alone in his room, late at night, he huffed. 

Boy, he really is a charmer. 

Frankie made haste to clean himself up and exit the browser without a second thought before trudging into bed and letting his eyes shut. When he woke up your moans echoed in his head while he made coffee. The sight of your soft, bare chest flashed in his mind while he had a pleasant conversation with the mailman about how the weather had been sweltering all week. The image of your sweet smile at his words played through his head all day at work like a sick taunt.

That night after dinner he lays in bed, scrolling through page after page of results on his phone in frustration because he can’t remember your goddamn username. 

It’s almost an hour of searching when he almost gives up because now the search is just getting a little sad. 

It shouldn’t matter that much to him. You're just a cam girl. Not somebody he knew personally, not a lover or a girlfriend. He’s about to close out when he sees your username and doesn’t think before he clicks on it. 

Your shirt is pushed up your chest and your hand is sliding under the elastic band of your panties when you see his username pop up and you smile. 

“Happy to see you back flyboy! I was starting to miss you.”

Frankie swears he won’t make a habit of watching you, but he breaks that promise when he clicks the follow button before falling asleep.

[morgansunflower]

Savin Me 3/3

Jason Todd X Reader

Warnings:minor character death, heavy angst

Words:974

Based on Batman death in the family 2020 movie. Jason and Y/N hurry to Gotham to comfort Timmy after his biological father's death

Y/N and I packing. I abruptly put my clothes in my duffle bag.

"Jay" she said so soft though I couldn't calm myself

"What?!" I asked harshly throwing my arms outward in frustration

I'm so selfish. I should have never left.

"breathe. Every--" I cut her off

"don't!" I take a deep breath enraged. I lower my hands continuing to pack "don't fucking start lying to me. This is my fucking fault and there is nothing you can say to change my mind"

"stop thinking that you're to blame. Jason, all we can do is be there for, Tim. You can control that"

I shake my head frustration and guilt is all I can seem to feel. She stepped away from her bag walking to me. She wraps her arms around me. I take a shaky breath forcing myself to calm down. Though it is a lot easier with her. We made it to, Gotham. I didn't bother saying anything to anyone until I make sure, Tim is OK. Who the fuck thought he should go on patrol? I open his bedroom door seeing him on his bed eye's locked on his laptop. His shoulders slouching.

"hey bat-baby"

"hey man" he said with a genuine hurt tone

His room is a complete wreck. He looks thinner. His eye's puffed from lack of sleep and possibly crying. I want to tell him everything is going to be OK and that I am going to be here for him.

"listen--" my words stuck in my throat. What do I say?

"I get it" he bitterly said and stood up

He walks to his door. I want to fix this. I don't know how.

"Timmy" I said

He turns around with rage and tears threatening to fall

"you don't care about me, Jason" he pushes me with effort though I didn't budge "you were never proud of me. I was just a sidekick to you, wasn't I? Or, Bat-kid, was a burden. You left me!" he hit me again with heavy breaths "S-so don't pretend you cared about me and just leave, again!"

His word's cut through me. I've never really felt a burning pain like this, before. I've never seen, Tim so upset, and so irrational. It turns my stomach into knots. I love him, as my own son. Now I understand everything, Bruce went through with me. The struggles I gave him. He gave me a home, food, guidance and a family. After, Bruce returned from the dead a harsh scar remained on his lower neck reminding me of his sacrifice. Tim, needs to know the truth. I hope he really does. Though he needs to hear it from me.

"yeah, well that's where you're wrong kid. For the first, fucking time, you're wrong" he shuts the door "you think I didn't give a shit about you? You think I didn't want to take you with me? That it didn't hurt Y/N and I to leave you? I wasn't going to risk failing you, Tim. It was wrong of me to think you'd..." I stammer thinking what if Tim would look at me as his mentor or maybe even a father figure? I sigh deeply continuing "look kid we both know the evidence of my past. The chances of you not turning out ok in my care is not something I was willing to risk. You were better off with, Bruce. Y/N, could have made up for what I couldn't amount to but you needed him" I scoff with a eye roll "if he could make a fucked up guy like me into something" I look to Tim's tearful eye's "he sure as hell would keep you on a better track! I did it for you, Kid. I left you and it fucking hurt us, Tim"

He rubs his nose with his hand and sniffs. I feel helpless. Should have I have taken him under my wing? I don't know. He needs space. He's hurting. He needs time to heal. I open the door I feel a tight embrace around my waist. I hear him sobbing his face up against my side. I let go of the door knob. I gently run his head not knowing what else to do. His little arm's are around me, it's not to his full strength. He's exhausted, emotionally exhausted. I know exactly how fucking agonizing that feels. To feel drained, that you're a burden to those around you. I wrap my left arm around him and use my right hand to rub his head.

He chokes on his sobs "shhhh you babybat you're OK. You got your family here. We're all here for you"

He sniffs and takes a breath "you're not fucked up"

I softly smile "you're not smart" I sarcastically stated

His breathing begins to calm down. His arm's bend from exhaustion. I move my left arm across his back and right arm across his knee-pit's lifting him up. His arms sprawled on his stomach slightly folded. I feel my heart break. He's grief-stricken. I remember crying myself to sleep almost every night after my mom overdosed. I lay him on his bed and lay the cover on him. What would, Bruce do? I gently rub his forehead. I remember when I had the flu back in my younger day's. As he falls into slumber I stand back up and shut his laptop. I leave his room step through the hall and open my bedroom door. I hear the sink running. Y/N. Exactly what I need right now. I step to my bathroom. The sink off. Y/N, turns with tears in her eye's holding a pregnancy test. My heart begins to beat fastly and my body wants to shake. I looked seeing two plus signs. She's pregnant

[psyched2b]

Drenched Cuddles (Dick Grayson X Reader)

Warnings: There is a whole line of swearing in the beginning.

MASTERLIST

The rain was pouring down on me and I felt like screaming. Of course, the one night all my friends go out of town, my car decides to break down in the middle of nowhere and my phone is dead. Not only that, but my keys are conveniently locked in the car, taunting me from the passenger seat where I had accidentally left them. Things couldn’t possibly be worse. And then there was a flash of lightning that brightened the sky and the thunder that followed shook the ground. 

“Fuck, dammit! Damnity damn fuck shit damn!” I yelled in exasperation, cursing whatever greater power out there clearly had it out for me. I despised thunderstorms, and that was when I was safely tucked away in my house with a million blankets and four walls protecting me. Now I was left in the dark woods, at least twenty miles away from anything. In my anger, I kicked the side of my car, immediately regretting it as my foot began to throb. I guess it’s time to admit I need to work on my anger management, I thought bitterly to myself. Looking around helplessly, I debated what my options were. I could try to walk home, but again, it was pitch black, storming and miles away. Not to mention that the outskirts of Gotham weren’t the safest (as if any part of Gotham was). That plan wasn’t reasonable as I remember that my house key was attached to my car key, safely tucked away into my car and thanks to my overprotective boyfriend, it was impossible to break into my house like I used to be able to. The other option was just to wait by my car and pray that a kind Samaritan would drive by and take pity on me. Wasn’t likely, but there wasn’t any other option. If I could just get my hands on a phone, I could call Dick… I pulled my sweatshirt close to my body, praying for warmth that wasn’t going to be provided. The thin jacket was already soaked through and wasn’t doing any good protecting me from the sting of the harsh rain. At this point in my life, I was debating crawling underneath my car, that’s how miserable I was. Suddenly, I noticed headlights coming towards my car and I cried aloud in relief. Either way, this person would be my savior, whether they helped me or killed me. Excited, I ran out into the middle of the street and began to wave my arms frantically over my head, trying to flag them down. “Please stop,” I chanted quietly to myself, trying to telepathically send my message to the driver. “Please, please, please!” Sure enough, the car pulled up next to me and it took me a moment to realize that I actually recognized the sleek, modern built car. “Dick?” I questioned as my boyfriend jumped out of the car as soon as it was in park. He bounded over to me and scooped me up into his tight embrace and I was enveloped in his warmth. I was still in disbelief that he had managed to find me in this weather. “Dick, what are you doing here?” That was a stupid question, but my mind wasn’t functioning right due to being a human popsicle. My boyfriend ripped off his own jacket and pulled it over my shivering form and dragged me to the passenger side of the car. “I got nervous when you were late for dinner, especially since you’re always early.” He buckled me into the seat and then ran to his side of the car and climbed in. “I had Tim try to track your phone, but that didn’t work,” he continued, cranking up the heat and simultaneously reached into his back seat and grabbed an old blanket that we used whenever we went out for picnics and wrapped that around me. “That’s when Damian had admitted that he planted a tracker in your car once he realized your phone was dead more than half the time and your car had a habit of breaking down in the worst of places.” I snorted at that. It was true. I’ve had the car for seven years and at least once a month, it broke down on me for one reason or another. One of my favorites was when the breaks went out while on the highway…. “Good to know your family likes me,” I teased, relieved when I realized that I started gaining feeling back into my toes and fingers. Dick glared at me before focusing on the road before us. “Of course they like you, Y/N. They all know you are way too good for me, that’s for sure. I would even bet that they like you better than me!” That caused me to laugh out loud. Dick was the most likable person in the world and I couldn’t imagine anyone thinking I was better than him, but I didn’t bother to comment at this, knowing he would argue and try to imprint it into my mind that what he said was true. He could be more stubborn than Bruce sometimes. “What happened anyway?” my love questioned me, glancing at me with sparkling blue eyes for a second before focusing on the road once again. “My stupid transmission went out and when I went out to check it, my car did that thing when it automatically locks itself because it’s possessed by Satan himself,” I grumbled, leaning into Dicks warmth over the armrest and laid my head on his arm. “Then it started to rain, followed by lighting and thunder.” “Oh, babe,” Dick cooed at me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as much as he could. “I’m sorry. I know how much you hate storms.” “Mmmm, not your fault that some greater power out there has it in for me.” Dick looked at me with sad eyes. “That’s not true, babe. You just have the worst luck. But, at least you have me!” We both chuckled at that and I couldn’t agree more.

—————————————

As soon as we got home, Dick ushered me into our bedroom. “Let me go start a bath for you, so you can warm up.” “Will you be joining me?” I asked coyly as he disappeared into the master bath. I could hear him fumble with the faucet for a second before there was a rush of water spurting out. Dick peaked his head out the door, winking at me, “Only to help you get warmer faster!” I stripped out of my wet clothes, tossing them into the clothes hamper next to the closet. “Think I could steal some of your clothes too?” I teased, going to our shared dresser, picking out a pair of sweatpants for myself and an old t-shirt of his that had the Bat Logo on it. He had an obsession with collecting anything related to his nighttime job. “Only if you behave!”

—————————————

Just over an hour later, we climbed out of the tub and got dressed. While I was addressing the mop of hair on my head, Dick headed downstairs to start the fire going. On his way out, he stopped at the bed and grabbed the fifty million blackness we had on there and continued down the stairs. After my hair was taken care of, I went and joined my love downstairs and was none too surprised to find him on the phone with presumably one of his brothers. “Yes, she’s fine. Just was a little cold, but that’s all taken care of now,” he said into the phone, not having heard me come down the stairs. “No, you don’t need to come over to make sure she’s still alive. I promise to have her call you tomorrow. Right now-“ I had snuck up to the back of the couch and launched myself over the back of it, landing right on top of the unsuspecting vigilante. “Whoa there!” he yelled, immediately dropping the phone and wrapping his arms around me to stop me from rolling onto the floor. I grinned up at him from his arms and he scowled at me. “That was rude,” he teased. I gave a shrug in response before grabbing his phone from the ground. Damian’s name flashed on the screen and I raised an eyebrow at Dick before putting the phone to my ear. “Hey, Damian. It’s Y/N. I promise that I am alive and well. Thank you for putting a tracker on my car. I promise to thank you by taking you out to lunch sometime soon. Now, I’m going to hang up so that I can cuddle with my boyfriend. Much love, babybat!” and with that, I hung up the phone before setting it down on the end table next to the couch. Dick was grinning at me and then placed a kiss on my forehead. “You handled that like a pro, babe,” he complimented. Snorting, I rolled my eyes. “Knowing your brothers, they will still show up later tonight to make sure things are alright.” He shrugged, “Probably, but that’s what happens when you have people that care for you.” We sat there in silence for a moment. “So, you want to cuddle or what?” I finally asked, snuggling into his muscular chest. Dick groaned appreciatively, shifting so that we were sprawled out on the couch. Then he reached over me to grab the pile of blankets that laid at our feet and pulled them over us. “You are so perfect. I love you.”

[addicted-to-dc]

Bruce Wayne/Batman X Reader- She Seems Interesting (Part 3)

I’M BACK!! The writing camp was so much fun and I learned so much!!! I’m sorry for making you guys wait so long for my next fic, but the wait is now over!! Hopefully I’ll get back on schedule by tomorrow!!

She Seems Interesting, Part 2

Warning: Swearing, mentions of murder (The usual)

“Some father Bruce is,” you joked, cutting Damian down from the street light and catching him.  “The man can’t even stop his kid from attempting to murder someone.”

Letting out a snarl, Damian struggled in your arms, trying to get of the binds Dick placed on him.  Rolling your eyes, you looked over to Dick, who was examining Ubu’s condition.

“Did you call the paramedics?” you asked, tightening your grip on Damian.

“I did,” he replied, “but I’m not sure if they’re going to make it in time.”

Nodding, you looked down at Damian, “You and I are going to have a chat later about this.”

He let out another snarl, but didn’t struggle against your grip.  You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose with your spare hand, already getting a headache from Damian and his idiotic actions.  Talia the psycho rapist couldn’t have taught him tactics, or maybe even a bit of humility?

“I’m getting too old to deal with this,” you muttered, walking over to your bike.  “I’m going to take Babybat to the cave, you think you can make it back without help?”

“Yeah,” he said, hissing when he disturbed his wounds.

“One more thing,” you said, turning around.  “Did you contact Bruce about this, and did you tell him you asked for my help?”

“Both,” he replied.  “Are you two okay?”

“He’s struggling with his priorities right now.  All of this,” you said, gesturing to Damian, “has been hard to deal with at the moment.  Especially since Talia has feelings, lust, or something that resembles attraction in her weird crazy assassin way, for Bruce.”

“It’ll get better, (Y/N),” Dick stated.  “You have stuck with his dysfunctional family since the beginning, I bet you’ll stick with us now.  Plus, I have blackmail material that I will use if you don’t.”

“I’ll stick with you guys to the day I die, you’re my family, but if Bruce doesn’t get his shit together I’m punching him in the face.”

“I think he might need that, (Y/N).”

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

“Welcome back, Miss (Y/N),” Alfred greeted you.  “I see you have been acquainted with the newest member of the family.”

“Yeah,” you said, removing Damian’s binds, “you can say that.  Where’s the father of this wonderful child?”

“Master Bruce is on his way,” he responded, walking to the infirmary.  “Does Master Dick require medical treatment?”

“Yes,” you responded, grabbing the back of Damian’s shirt.  “Now, if you can excuse me, I’m going to have a talk with Damian.”

Alfred nodded, letting a small smile creep onto his face.  As he watched you drag Damian further into the cave, memories of the past Robins flooded his head.  You were there for every Robin, and as if it was a tradition, each of them experienced the infamous (Y/L/N) scolding.  Bruce may have been the one who was their main mentor, but you had a great part in raising them.  

“Listen up, kid,” you started, crouching down to his level, “I understand that you did what you were taught to believe what was right, but what you did has compromised this case.  Now Ubu is hospitalized, unable to provide us with the information we needed.”

“He deserves to die!” Damian shouted, clenching his fists.  “Because of him, my grandfather is dead.  He has to pay!”

“I wasn’t finished,” you said sternly.  “Not only did your idiotic sense of revenge reveal to the enemy that we are onto them, they also know where you are and who you are with.  Your mother brought you here for protection, and you have undone all of the hard work that she has put into protecting you and your future.  I may not agree with your methods, beliefs, or family members, but I am not on your mother’s or your father’s side.  I am doing my best here, but you are making it very difficult for me to do so.”

You looked over to the entrance, watching as the Batmobile entered the Bat Cave.  Dick arrived a few seconds later on his motorcycle, limping to the infirmary.

Letting out a sigh, you looked back over to Damian, “I hope that you will turn out better than he or your mother did.  Don’t be either of them, be the best of them.  You get me?”

He nodded confusedly, which you took as a yes.  Standing up, you left Damian to ponder about what you said and walked over to Bruce, who was at the Bat Computer.  Way to be a good parent, you sassed in your head, no wonder why the poor boy is acting the way he is.  Placing a hand on the chair, you saw that Bruce was speaking to Commissioner Gordon about Ubu’s condition.

“I’ll stay in touch,” Bruce stated, ending the conversation.

“He’s still alive?” you asked.

“Barely,” he responded, propping his head on his hand.  “If Dick hadn’t been there-”

“Your son would have killed a man,” you finished his sentence, rolling your eyes.  “You can only blame him for so long.  He was raised by assassins, Bruce, it’s not his fault that his beliefs and morals are not compatible with yours.”

“He’s deadly,” Bruce countered, receiving a scoff from you.

“He’s just a kid,” you argued.  “He didn’t ask to be raised by killers, so stop acting like a drill sergeant and be a father to that boy.” He nodded, a smile forming on his face, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you said, grabbing his gloved hand.  “Who else is going to shove common sense into that thick skull of yours?”

“Alfred?” he joked, squeezing your hand.

“Other than Alfred,” you laughed lightly.

“I see you spoke to Damian, how was it?” he asked, rotating the chair slightly.

“I think I got my point across,” you answered, “but I’m not his mother or father, you are.”

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

“How long has father known her?’ Damian asked Dick, watching you interact with his father.  “He and (Y/L/N) seem close.”

“He has known (Y/N) since he first became Batman,” Dick answered, smiling when he looked in your direction.  “She has helped raise every single Robin with Bruce, teaching us things that he never could.  You could say that she was the mother figure I needed after I lost mine.”

“So she is important to him,” he observed, “unlike my mother.”

“Maybe,”  Dick said, scratching the back of his neck.  “Why are you interested in (Y/N)?”

“She’s interesting.”

[lloki]

Video Games

You get frustrated playing a game on their phone, and Steve comes to the rescue!

Steve Harrington + Gender neutral regressed Reader

You threw your phone across the bed, arms crossing tightly against your chest as you let out a huff. Steve sat up quickly, taking a break from reading to attend to you. 

“Whoa, hey, what’s that about?” He asked, gentle hand resting on your shoulder. 

“I keep dying, it’s too hard!” 

“Maybe we should take a break, huh?” 

You sighed, leaning into his touch. “Okay..” 

He noticed this, pulling you into his arms. You nuzzled your grumpy little head against his cozy sweater and he ran a hand through your hair. “What’s got you so worked up, honey?” 

“The game is dumb, I don’t wanna play it.” You grumble. 

“Is that all?” 

You thought for a moment, though your thoughts were a little foggy. You looked up at him with big eyes when you realized something. “My tummy hurts.” 

“Aw, baby, are you hungry?” 

You nodded slowly, shuffling in your spot slightly. Steve rubbed your back before scooting off of his side of the bed. He offered you his hand. “Come on, let’s get you some food.” 

You took his hand, climbing off the bed and walked to the kitchen with him. When you got there, he braced the underneath of each arm. You could jump onto the counter yourself, really, but he liked to help. “Up!” He commanded and you jumped, landing safely on the countertop. 

Steve quick work of rummaging through the fridge and getting out the makings for peanut butter and jelly, your favorite snack when you were small. You smiled when you saw what he was making, legs swinging back and forth. 

“Extra jelly?” He looked up at you long enough to ask. 

“Please!” You exclaimed, causing Steve to laugh. 

When he finished your sandwich, he began to make one for himself. You waited anxiously for a bite, but you were good and patient, watching your Stevie work. When he finished, he picked up both plates and nodded to the livingroom. “Wanna watch cartoons?”

You happily jumped off the counter and ran to the tv, fiddling with the remote as soon as you got there. Steve came up behind you, placed the plates on the inntable, before snatching the remote from your hands. 

He sat down, one foot going onto the table. “What’re you in the mood for, lovebug?” 

Grabbing your plate and snuggling up to Steve’s side, you looked up at him while you thought. “Ummm.. Max and Ruby?” 

Steve placed a kiss on your forehead. “You got it.” He flicked to youtube and put on the playlist of episodes he made you. He shifted slightly, trying not to jostle you too much, as he reached for his own plate. 

You took big, hungry bites of your sandwich, almost half done by the time Steve had taken the first bite of his. 

“You were hungry!” He laughed, and you smiled at him, mouth closed, with a full cheek. 

By the time you were both done eating, you had cuddled impossibly close to Steve, and he had his arm wrapped around you, keeping you close and safe. After awhile of watching tv comfortably in silence, you began to lightly squirm in your seat. 

“You okay?” Steve loosened his grip on you so you could move freely. 

“Can I play on my phone again?” You asked with your best puppy dog eyes. 

Steve could never say no to you. “Yeah, you can. But no throwing!” 

You stood up excitedly, about to go get your phone. “Promise!” You ran to grab your phone before taking your place back in Steve’s arms. 

Looking down at you as you opened your game, Steve placed a kiss on your hairline. He watched you play for awhile, and even after you died again, you let out a soft huff and continued playing, keeping your cool this time.

[lloki]

Loki x Gender neutral reader

Reader has a nightmare and starts to regress, though they haven't told Loki about their regression yet.

Word count: 500

Rewritten from an old fic of mine, minor updates!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was the first time it had happened since you started sharing a room with Loki. 

The nightmares had returned. 

Eyes snapping open in a panic, your body was covered in sweat and you couldn’t stop shaking. You sat up and ran a hand through your damp hair, the remnants of your dream still leaving terror in your mind. 

You weren’t sure what to do. 

You felt yourself starting to regress, but there was fear there. Not only were you not in your own space, but you had never told Loki about your regression. 

“Darling?” All your stirring around had awakened your beloved. Loki sat up next to you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “What’s wrong? You’re trembling..” 

You let out a shaky breath, resting your cheek on his hand. “A nightmare, I haven’t had one in a while..”

Loki pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your cold frame. “What do you usually do after a nightmare?” Loki looked down towards you, though it was hard to see you through the darkness.

You swallowed a lump in your throat, your anxiety spiking. “Well, usually I.. Regress. It’s, um.. Reverting to a childlike state, to cope.” 

Loki hummed and strummed a finger through your now mostly dry hair. “What can I do to help you through this?” 

You sighed and snuggled into his chest as close as you could manage. “This is good, you holding me helps. Though, I wish I had my pacifier to help me get back to sleep.” 

Loki placed a kiss onto your forehead and smiled against it. “That’s something I can help with.” 

Suddenly his hand glowed green in the dark room, illuminating the both of you. The light faded out and in his hand was a paci, the perfect size. He guided it to your mouth and you happily accepted it. 

A few quiet moments passed and you already felt so much more relaxed, your mind becoming smaller and smaller. You looked up at Loki through your lashes and said a muffled “thank you” from behind your paci. Loki let out a soft chuckle and gave you a squeeze. 

After a good awhile of being held with such love, you finally started to feel sleepy again. Loki could tell by your yawns and little noises that you were ready for rest. He laid you down and covered you up, tucking you tightly into place. He laid down behind you, wrapping his arm around your midsection to keep you safe. 

“I have a confession, little one.” 

A very sleepy “hm” left your mouth. 

“I’ve known about your coping mechanism for awhile, but it was never my place to pry. Thank you for telling me.” 

A soft gasp escaped you and he chuckled again, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Rest now, we can talk in the morning.” 

Before you knew it, you were peacefully off to sleep. A dreamless one this time, and you were very content with that. You woke up feeling rested despite your interrupted sleep, and Loki was there to happily greet you with a good morning and lots of love.

[lloki]

Daddy

Regressed gn!reader calls Tony "daddy" for the first time Word count: 330

Today was a small day with Tony. I played around his lab while he worked, every now and then looking up to make sure I wasn’t getting into trouble. He had my favorite cartoon playing on tv and over the speakers, but it was much quieter than when he listened to music. 

Getting up from my spot on the fluffy rug he bought for me and leaving my blocks behind, I walked over to Tony. He was so focused on his machine that he didn’t even notice I was there until I tapped his shoulder, to which he jumped. 

“You scared me half to death, kid. You’re stealthier than I remember.” Tony turned around in his swivel chair to face me, opening his arms to pull me into a hug. 

I giggled into his shoulder, giving him a squeeze before pulling away to talk. “Can we go for a fly, Tony?” 

Tony clicked his tongue and nodded his head towards his work. “Not right now, lovebug. Ask me later, okay?” 

I nodded, beginning to walk back to my play spot. “Okay, daddy. I love you.” 

I stopped in my tracks, slowly turning around to face Tony. I had never called him that out loud. I was overcome with embarrassment, worried he’d reject me and the accidental nickname. 

“Oh, so I’m daddy now?” Tony spoke with amusement in his voice and a smile tugging at his lips. 

With flushed cheeks, I spoke, taking a step towards him. “I’m sorry- I didn’t mean-” 

Tony reached out to me, taking my hand in his. “Hey, shhh. I like it, I’m daddy now.” 

He lightly tugged my arm forward, pulling me into another hug. Tony placed a soft kiss on my head and spoke into my hairline. “Love you too, kiddo. Now go play.” 

I smiled as I pulled away, and he smiled brightly back at me. “Okay, daddy.” And with that I padded back to my rug, happily sitting down to build my blocks.

[azsazz]

Come Back

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel is late coming back from a mission but you’ve already told your sons that he’d be back tonight. Tantrum’s ensue.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,522

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“Come on my loves,” you nearly plead, “Daddy will be home tomorrow.”

The two young boys pout in their beds, eyes brimming with tears. 

“But you said Daddy would be home tonight,” the older of the two wails, slamming his little fists on his bed in protest. Tiny shadows flutter from his hands and fade into mist. Wren, older than his brother by a year, has started to manifest shadows like his father. He couldn’t control them yet, was scared when he first saw them, then remembered his father’s shadows. You’d never seen the little boy so proud, bragging to his cousins that he was ‘just like Daddy.’

You’re exhausted. Taking care of your two sons while Azriel was away on a mission was never easy, but paired with the fact that they hadn’t napped well earlier in the day because they were too excited about their father coming home today, getting them to go to sleep wasn’t an easy feat. 

The Shadowsinger must be sidetracked. Before he had left for his assignment, he mentioned the timeframe he thought he would be back by, and you had made the mistake of telling your sons that he’d return in time to tuck them in for bed tonight.

As the younger one bursts into tears, seeing his brother’s dewey eyes, you shut your own tight for a moment, thinking of all the relaxing things you can muster. In all honesty, you’d like to start crying right alongside them. You hadn’t had a single moment of peace since he left. And sure, the rest of the Inner Circle were around to help, but you never liked to hassle them asking for help.

“Babes,” you try gently, pulling Baz – the three year-old – into your arms and shushing him lightly, soothing your fingers through his dark hair and rocking him softly in his bed. Wren climbs out of his own and into his brothers, curling up close to your side. “You know your father has to work. We’ve talked about this.”

“We want him here,” Wren cries into your shirt, “With us!”

Baz wipes the dripping snot on his arm, “Yeah!”

“And he will be here with you tomorrow,” you explain again for the fourth time since they found out he wasn’t going to be back in time. “And I know that he’s missing you little monsters too,” you say playfully, attacking your two sons with kisses. Their tears turn into cries of laughter and you’re thankful, would much rather be dealing with happy babies than sad ones. 

You get them back into their own beds eventually, settling them down with one more story before you’re moving towards the door to turn the lights out.

“Mommy?” Wren’s voice is timid, and when you turn around he has his blankets pulled up tightly to his chin, his big hazel eyes staring at you with concern.

“Yes baby?”

“Promise Daddy will be back tomorrow?”

Your heart clenches, thinking for a moment where there could be a day your mate is sent off on a mission that he doesn’t come back from. The thought makes you sick to your stomach. 

Fortunately, you don’t have to respond, don’t have to lie to your child or think of a way to avoid answering his question because a familiar body is sweeping into the room, a loving smile on his face. “What if he’s here right now?”

The squeals pierce your ears, the brothers climbing out of their beds and running into Azriel’s arms. You try and plaster a smile to your face as he sends his shadows over to you, acknowledging that he knows you’re here too. One tugs at your wrist, urging you to join the hug but your stomach is in knots, stuck thinking about what would happen if the Shadowsinger didn’t return from an assignment.

Your mate's eyes look at you with concern, his shadows probably have already filled him in on the look on your face right before he entered the room, or you could have sent that feeling down the bond to him by accident. 

You and Azriel had a pretty open way of communicating when it came to the bond, aside from when he was on missions, the bond was an open passageway, free for you to send any and all feelings down whenever you wanted. 

The fact that your walls were still up now that he’d returned has him a bit worried. 

The frustration, the exhaustion, the fear, have all built up, choosing to make their appearance now. You know you should’ve taken up Cassian’s offer to train the other day when you had started feeling worn down by your sons, hell, you could’ve even had the Warlord wrestle around with the two tiny half-Illyrians you birthed. You should’ve taken time for yourself, but now it was too late.

You tug your wrist away from the shadow curled around it. Your motion isn’t harsh, the opposite, in fact. Another sign to your mate that something is bothering you.

“Go, get in bed,” the Spymaster ushers gently, nudging the babes away. Baz stumbles as he races by you, straightening himself with a hand on your leg and a slobbery smile aimed up at you. 

It settles your heart a little.

Azriel places a hand on your cheek stroking lovingly, his eyes soft, questioning. You shake your head slightly, trying to offer a sense of reassurance down the bond, but nothing. He kisses you tenderly on your forehead and you let yourself clutch at the leathers he still wears, sans the weapons. Breathing in his scent like a breath of life, it helps calm you further. 

“I drew a bath for you,” he whispers, and he can see just how worn out you are by the look on your face. “Go ahead, I’ll take care of them.”

Your shoulders sag in relief. You should ask him if he wants you to stay, to help tuck in the stubborn babes behind you, but you’re so thankful to finally get a moment alone that you don’t even offer.

Kissing the little boys on their foreheads with warnings of being good for their father, you’re leaving, making your way across the hall and into the bathroom. Your heart melts. There’s flower petals and candles all around the tub that’s steaming with hot water and smells like eucalyptus. 

You strip out of your own clothes, not caring where they land as you glide towards the inviting water. You dip your foot in and sigh, it’s the perfect temperature. 

Settling in, you lean your head back and close your eyes, the tension ebbing from your body. You inhale the luxurious scent, hold, exhale, and then inhale again. You haven’t felt like you’d even had time to get cleaned up properly. Baz was at the phase where he’d bang on the door and cry constantly if you or Azriel weren’t somewhere nearby. 

And now with Wren showing signs of having shadows of his own, your life was about to become a lot more hectic.

The Shadowsinger slips into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. You watch him shove his way out of his leathers, admiring his sculpted body as he does so. You make room for him and he settles in behind you, pulling you back to lean into his chest.

The two of you just sit for a moment, relishing in the warmth from both the bath and the bond, your bodies pressed close, right where you belong. Having him back is comforting, and everytime he returns is like the day when your bond made itself known, the air catching in your throat and feeling like you can finally see clearly.

“What’s wrong?” he eventually murmurs against the skin behind your ear, pecking you on the neck.

“Wren asked me to promise you’d be here in the morning,” you explain quietly, trailing a hand aimlessly up and down his forearm that’s draped around you. “And it had me thinking,” your breath hitches, “What if you don’t come back to us some day?” 

His arms tighten around you instantly, holding you closer to his chest. His shadows go still and it’s completely silent.

“I’ll always come back to you three.” It sounds like a promise, but the words don’t settle that feeling in your stomach. They aren’t a guarantee. 

You swallow back the tears in your throat. “You don’t know that.”

He flips you around in his arms, taking your face in both of his. His eyes are as scared as yours, and it’s possible he’s thought of this before, on his own. 

“Then I’ll quit.” 

“You can’t,” you protest, shaking your head.

“Why not? I’ve been doing this for nearly six hundred years now,” he says, “I should be allowed to retire.” 

“You wouldn’t handle retirement well and we both know that Az.” You trace the expanse of his face, thumbing over his thick eyebrows, his soft lips. “I worry. The kids worry. It’s a lot.”

“I know it is darling,” he catches your wrist, kissing it harshly, “But my family means more to me than any job ever will.”

[azsazz]

Burning Man

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel gets scared because your sons are playing too close to the fire.

Warnings: A bit sad. Sorry in advance.

Word Count: 2,594

Notes: Just because I’m obsessed with writing Azriel as a father atm. Happier Daddy!Az fics to come :)

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You stand in the kitchen window watching your two sons chase each other around the yard with their stuffed animals, playing pretend. You smile softly at them even though you know getting them to give up their sacred plush toys for a wash will be the hardest thing to do.

It’s a crisp, cool night, but the babes insisted they play outside for as long as they could. You and your sons had spent the evening in the fresh air, you perched cozily around the fire while you watched the boys run around and shriek until Baz stumbled away from his brother and over to you, complaining of thirst. You had just stepped inside to collect drinks, just water for tonight. You didn’t want them up all night so you opted for nothing with sugar, knowing just how full of energy they’d be if you brought them juice instead.

You’re filling the second cup up with water when you hear the front door to your home open and shut softly. Your smile widens as you wait patiently until your mate finds you, his warm hands snaking their way around your middle as he buries his face into your neck. His scent fills  your nostrils, like burnt orange and the wind, and you relax against him.

“Hi Az,” you greet, butterflies in your stomach awakening. There’s a comforting caress of warmth down the thread of the bond and you revel in it, soaking in it as much as you can, like the radiant sun bathing down on you. You close your eyes blissfully as you lean your head back against your mate's shoulder. The water spills over the rim of the cup in your hands, right, you were supposed to be bringing water to your children that you left unattended in the backyard.

Your mate must realize the same, his hands tightening around your waist as you reach for a towel, occupied by the task at hand. He watches the young boys run around outside, their plushies in their hands and utter happiness and on their faces. But it’s the fire he notices, how the pair run around it, chasing each other without a care in the world, unknowing the danger of the hot flame like their father does.

Azriel’s breathing quickens slightly, chest heaving against your back because they’re too damned close. He’s frozen in his spot, eyes wide as the memories he’s tried so hard to bury bubble up in his brain. Your voice is faint as you call out to him, but he’s zeroed in on the babes, watching intently.

And then Baz trips, and Azriel loses it. 

He’s back in that place with his brothers, laughing cruelly at him as they drench his hands with gasoline, holding down his little arms with their heavy boots. As the flames caress his skin at first, tearing away at his flesh, the muscles, nearly down to the bone, the cellar smelling acrid, his screams and the laughter of his kin ringing in his ears.

You flinch as his shadows swarm past, a wave of pure darkness crashing over you and tearing the breath from your lungs in an instant, aiming for the children in the yard. You throw your hands up, covering your head with your hands as they rush over you, the darkness ice cold and stinging.

Stumbling away from your mate you look at him, eyebrows furrowed with worry. You’d never seen him like this before, were unsure of what was happening, but you watched, unable to speak, as the last of his shadows slipped through the cracks of the window and headed straight towards your children.

Heart thundering in your chest as your eyes snapped to both of your sons, a tornado of shadows suffocating the fire and a wall of utter darkness shielding the babes, consuming them nearly, as Azriel’s labored breathing next to you.

They were terrified, the babes. One second they were screaming with laughter and joy in the last of the sun for that day, and the next they were crying out in fear as the darkness swallowed them whole.

You dropped the cup in your hands, movements automatic as you sprung into action to get to your babes, their terrified sobbing making your protective instincts kick in. Pushing past your mate who was still glued to his spot, eyes dark and scared, your shove knocked him from his own pain and panic, and he realized that he was not young, not trapped in a cellar. He flexed his hands and no, they weren’t one fire. Realizing what he had done, watching you claw through the thick shadows to get to your babies, his stomach drops.

He follows you outside, hands shaking as he hears the sobs of Wren and Baz through the cocoon of darkness. Withdrawing his shadows immediately, they uncover both little boys clinging to you for dear life, stuffed animals abandoned in the dirt in favor of fisting your shirt in their little hands. 

He was sick to his stomach. He had scared them so badly that they buried their heads into your neck as he neared, pushing into you harder as if they wanted you to protect them, wanted nothing to do with him. He had made them terrified of him.

Azriel’s head spun, this couldn’t be happening. He was just as scared as they were, more even. They had no idea what he had gone through at an age so similar to theirs, had no idea of how the flame had hurt him down to his very soul, the ugly scars of his hands a constant reminder of the hatred and torment he’d endured. He remembered every single insult that anyone had ever uttered about them. They were too young to understand.

He falls to his knees, pleading and sorrow in his eyes as he inches towards the three of you. It breaks your heart to see this, your sons clinging to you and crying out in fear when they see your mate moving slightly forward. You realized too late to stop him, he was in a straight panic at the sight of your sons playing by the fire.

You could see it in his hazel eyes, every single thought that raced through his mind as he watched you hold your sons tighter in your arms, trying your best to comfort them. The shadows could be a scary thing, and they didn’t understand entirely what was going on, only that the darkness had washed over them, ripping away the light and their senses, carrying them away from the fire. You weren’t sure if they’d understand at all when they calmed down and you explained it to them.

And you could see that reflected in your mate’s eyes. They were going to hate him, he was sure of it. And you knew he was thinking this, but didn’t know what to do. You wanted to open your arms for him too, you hated that terrified look in your partner's eyes, but the babes didn’t want anything to do with him right now, and the both of you knew it.

“Az–” you try to stop him before he does it, but your mate shoots to his feet, shadows nowhere to be seen. He flares his wings, bending his wobbly knees and springing from the ground, letting the wind carry him away from you and the babes you were comforting in your arms.

__________

His mind reels as he flies frantically away from his family. 

He doesn’t know where he’s going, just lets his body take him where it wants to go while he plays what had transpired in the yard over and over and over again in his head. The complete fear that consumed him when he saw Baz trip by the fire, his son's little minds so careless, unknowing of the harm of the fire could wield like he knew. Their tiny horrified faces as the darkness swaddled them, blocking the sun, hiding them from him, their mother, eachother.

They were scared of him and didn't want their own father near them after what he had done. They knew it was him who did it, but they didn’t know the reason why he would do such a thing.

All Azriel could think about was if this was going to be a trigger for them now, like his was the flame he was trying so hard to protect them from.

He ignores the whispers from his coiling shadows of how your face looked when he had flown away, ignores the emotions reverberating in his chest from you, trying to convey that everything was okay the best that you could, that he should come home.

He couldn’t face it, couldn’t face his two sons after all of that, his mind both trapped in the memory of what once was and what he was sure to carry with him for the rest of his life. The flame had now taken two things from him.

Rhysand finds him hours later, when he had no desire to fly anymore, perched on top of his and his brothers’ favorite cliff, the one that overlooked all of Velaris. It was well into the night now, and the darkness calmed him, much like it always had, his only friend for a time, a constant in his life. Your calls had become lesser and lesser until they stopped, your final call a hot brand in his chest.

Had he ruined his children’s feelings about the night? No longer could he teach them about how powerful it was without the image of how terrifying it could be making itself known every time they thought of it? Had he tainted the one thing he could offer them?

Azriel doesn’t say anything as Rhysand takes a seat next to him, legs dangling over the steep cliff, gazing out at the city he loves so dearly.

Eventually, he does break the silence, “She’s worried about you, you know.”

Still, the Shadowsinger doesn’t speak, though he swallows against the lump in his throat at the mention of you.

“What happened Az?” and it was his brother’s voice, so understanding and gentle and worried, that he let him into his mind to see. 

“Kids are a funny thing,” is what the High Lord goes with, pulling himself from the Shadowsinger’s mind. Azriel’s gaze cuts to his brother whose violet eyes are filled with a fondness for his own son.

“They hate me.”

“They do not,” and Azriel nearly flinches at the commanding harshness of his brother’s voice. “They could never and will never hate you Azriel. Get that thought out of your fucking head right now.”

“You saw the looks on their faces Rhys,” his voice is tight, painful, “The way they looked at me.”

“So they were scared,” Rhys shrugs next to him before admitting, “Nyx was scared of flying the first time I took him out. I thought he was never going to speak to me again. Clung to Feyre for weeks.”

“He was?” Azriel’s mouth quirks up in the corner, thinking of his mischievous nephew who now tries to soar throughout the River House, jumping off of the banisters and tables to catch what little air he could.

“Yeah,” Rhy’s grins, stars shining in his eyes, “But they love you unconditionally anyway, no matter what.”

The Shadowsinger sighs, gazing out into the night again. “I’m not so sure brother.”

“Az, you don’t see it, the way their faces light up when you come home from an assignment or when you hold them close or read their favorite stories to them. They aren’t afraid of you and they aren’t afraid of your shadows. All of the kids love them. Do you not notice how loud their laughter is when the shadows tickle them and chase them around the house? When we’re all forced to play hide and seek? You can’t tell me you’re that blind Az.”

And he’s not, as he remembers all of the instances Rhysand speaks of. He loves his children unconditionally and he would do absolutely anything for them in a heartbeat. Maybe if he just explained it to them…

Rhysand claps him on the shoulder, “Go home, brother.”

__________

Relief pours from you as your mate slinks silently into your bedroom, the door clicking shut behind him. His eyes soften at the sight before him: both of his sons tucked up into you on either side, sleeping peacefully. Their plushies are clean and hugged close, never more than an arm's length away.

“Az,” you sigh, gently untangling yourself from the little ones.

You rush over to him, running your hands over him frantically. He can see how worried you are and it makes him soften, grabbing your face in his hands and halting your movements. He’s looking at you with his big hazel eyes, apologetic even though it’s you who needs to be doing the apologizing.

“I’m so sorry,” the both of you say at the same time before you laugh softly, together. Your hands clutch onto his shirt tighter, pulling him all that much closer. 

“What happened earlier was all my fault Az,” you admit, and he starts to shake his head in protest but you stop him, carrying on, “I asked Rhys to ward the hearths and fire pits last week while you were away and it slipped my mind. They weren’t in any danger and I’m sorry that it scared you so badly, I completely forgot. They couldn’t get into the fire if they tried. I never meant to scare you like that.”

“Hey,” his voice is calm and reassuring as he wipes the stray tear from your cheek, “It’s not your fault, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have reacted the way that I did. It just –  it all came rushing back to me when I saw Baz fall by the fire,” he shudders and he squeezes your hands in his own, grounding himself. He presses his forehead against yours, eyes shutting tightly as he releases a shuddering breath at the memory once more.

“I understand, I do, and I should have told you.”

He presses a harsh kiss against your lips, murmuring, “I forgive you.”

A breathy sigh from your bed draws your attention, watching fondly as your younger son shuffles in closer to his brother and burrowing his head into the older child’s neck before falling quickly back into sleep.

“They’re scared of me, aren't they?” And his voice breaks your heart. The fact that he could believe his own children could be scared of him.

“No, Az, absolutely not,” you shake him once, drawing his attention and watching your words hit  home. “I explained what happened–well, mostly what happened. That you were scared that they would hurt themselves by the fire. They didn’t understand at first, and I told them they would hear it from you, but in the end they just wanted their father here with them.”

“Yeah?” he asks like he can’t quite believe it, chewing on his lip.

“Of course, you big brute. They love you with all of their heart, and I do too.”

You usher your mate to join you and your children in the bed. He changes from his leathers into something more comfortable and slides into one side as you crawl into the other, encasing your children between the both of you.

Tomorrow, he thinks, holding the smaller boy closer and brushing his hair back from his forehead, pressing a soft kiss into the babes hair, he’ll tell them tomorrow.