#especially when I’m releasing several a week as is

[jahayla-parker]

So will we be getting any Freddy fics before the series comes out? ❤️

Ignore my comments/venting in the tags unless actually interested

It’s hard to say, probably not. I’m working on some, but I have literally dozens of other requests I’m working on simultaneously. So with some Freddy fics clearly already coming and scheduled, I don’t think it would be fair to add more of his prior to other ones that have been waiting.

That being said, I just finished my un-proofread/unedited draft of a Kaz x Reader angst fic I plan on sharing soon.

🤗

[spideesenses]

Heat → Miguel O’Hara

pairing: miguel o’hara x afab!reader

warnings: smut! MDNI! there’s no piv, just dry (wet) hmping. dom!miguel. panty fcking. light degrading. mentions of menstrual cycle.

prompt: Miguel doesn’t take his rapture serum, letting his more animalistic tendencies surface.

note: this has been my brainrot for several days now bc my bf did it to me and i😵‍💫 please practice safe & clean sex! you can mess up your pH balance especially with something like this, so please make sure you know the proper aftercare. love u

He could smell you. The scent of your wet slick between your thighs sent him in a frenzy, not to mention that you were ovulating. So this intense wave of horniness would hit you randomly. You’d been trying so hard to concentrate on the mission report that Jess was delivering, squeezing your thighs to gain some friction.

As Jess wrapped up the mission report, Miguel dismissed everyone. Everyone except for you. A wave of panic shot through you. You knew there was better choices to be made during the mission, but was it worth getting reprimanded for?

“What is this about?” you spoke softly, stepping forward. The release of your tightened thighs only released the scent of your dripping pussy even more so. As you stepped closer, the scent filled his nostrils and he had to stop his eyes from rolling back.

“You were helping Lyla reproduce my rampage serum earlier this week.” Miguel finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity. He wasn’t asking, he was stating the fact. So you were unsure what he wanted from you.

“Yeah, you had me stay back from a mission because I was feeling unwell.” you period was so crippling that day. You still wanted to make an impact so you asked Miguel for an alternative project to work on. “Is there a problem?”

The question made him chuckle dryly. You felt her pulse at the sound. That, you couldn’t help. He turned giving you what seemed like a grin. A sadistic grin.

“When you updated the inventory,” he waved his hand and a computer monitor came up. Video footage of you storing 6 vials into his cabinet pulled up. You had turned in your rolling chair to lean over as you went to fill out the fields on the computer.

Your name

The date

The serums you were making updates to

The quantity

You squinted your eyes at the footage. Oh. Seemingly enough, you had fatfingered an extra number on the file and saved it carelessly before exiting the lab.

“I was under the impression that I had another 10 vials to last me before I had to make more. I actually would have asked you to assist me in that again, but because of your mistake,” he swiped his hand again, making the video feed disappear and taking a step closer to you, making you instinctively back up. “I am all out.” he wasted no time grabbing you by the neck, forcing you to look up at him. “Do you understand what that means cariño?”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, wincing as his grip on your throat tightened. You reached up to grab his wrist, giving it a squeeze.

He ignored your apology. “And while Lyla is scrambling to make a new batch, I have sit here and smell you.” if his teeth wasn’t dripping with venom, his voice was. This didn’t help your problem. You could feel the wetness collecting at the crotch of your suit. The way he was manhandling you? Scolding you as a means to humiliate you? He took a whiff of the air once more, blinking a few times before narrowing his eyes at you. “Is this- Are you getting aroused by this?” you didn’t have to answer, he could smell it.

Due to his lack of rampage, his senses seemed to have heightened. He was more aware, he had to be. He was like an animal released in the wild with no limits to his terrain.

He needed you just as much as you needed him. He’d take you as quickly as he could, oh but he knew it would take patience. As mean and broody as he was, he was still a gentleman, when he wanted to be. Images of you being manhandled, moaning with him touching every inch of your body. He blinked a few times realizing you were using your powers on him. You could project thoughts into ones mind.

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop.” he nuzzled his face into your neck, peppering kisses there. Miguel teasingly dragged his fangs against the soft skin at your neck, making you whimper.

“Don’t stop,” you huffed out. Your sexual frustrations were agonizing, body heating up quickly as your dripping slick grew warmer. The sounds that were coming from you reminded Miguel of the sounds that a prey would make when it was caught. The primal instinct was to bite you, mark you as his territory.

A sweet little moan escaped passed your lips. Miguel looked down and seen your thumbs caressing your nipple through your suit. He could see the hardened mound, how painful it looked. The thought of you pleasuring yourself underneath him would have been more than okay… if he wasn’t feeling territorial.

Miguel flicked your hand away, grasping your breast in his free hand, his other still tightly around your throat. He palmed over your sensitive bud, the feeling of a more calloused hand over your boob feeling sensational. You didn’t care how needy your mewls had sounded, you were unbelievably turned on out of your mind. Whatever he was willing to give you, you would take. The moans falling passed your lips were caught with his.

You would occasionally buck your hips into his, emitting a growl as he lightly bit your bottom lip. You needed friction. Anything to relieve the growing pain. With control, you bucked your hips slowly, making sure to drag the pool of wetness onto his suit. You’d let out a breathless ‘heh’ as you felt him through his suit.

Oh and he could feel you alright. The one stroke alone had left a wet on his suit. He quickly commanded for his suit to disappear and he was suddenly bare in front of you.

He was mouthwateringly gorgeous. His chiseled chest through his suit was a masterpiece. And now that it was bare right in front of you? He looked too delicious to be consumed. His waist was slim in comparison to his chest, yet bulky and defined. His happy trail lead down to something that you would consider very happy to see you. It wasn’t just the girth that intimidated you, it was the length as well. How the hell was he going to fit that in you without breaking you or tearing you in half?

He wasted no time in tearing at the crotch of your suit.

“Hey!” you whined. You’d made your own suit. You were actually one of the only spider people without an upgraded suit. The first version of your suit was your now ruined suit.

“I’ll program you another suit princesa,” he panted, gasping as your silky red underwear came into view. Though the wet patch of your underwear presented a more maroon color. He lifted you up on his desk, pushing his keyboard and mouse off in the process. He bent down, taking a whiff of your clothed, soaked pussy.

His eyes glossed over crimson. Miguel wasn’t even sure if he had ever been this aroused before. Maybe it was because he couldn’t remember a damn day where he was out of his serum. He pressed your lips together in a hard kiss, jerking his hips forward so the leaky tip of his cock would press against your puffy clit.

“M’gonna fuck you with your panties on,” he mumbled against your lips. He guided his cock underneath your panties, collecting the wetness from your crying pussy. The tightness of your underwear was enough to keep his cock firmly pressed against your slit.

You bucked your hips eagerly, whimpering as the feeling of his cock against your pussy stimulated the most sensitive part of you. He switched hands; one resumed its position at the base of your neck, pinning you down on his desk and the other held your thigh as it was hiked over his hip.

Miguel rutted his hips, letting out a sigh of relief. Although it wasn’t the inside of your plush, wet heat, this would do. The scent of you enveloped him and he could only imagine what your velvety walls would feel like fluttering around him.

“More, please.” you begged, tears brimming your eyes as you could feel yourself wanting more than just the slow rolling of the hips.

“Oh,” Miguel pursed his lips, looking down at you. “Look at you so desperate for my cock.” he was talking down on you again, making your jaw fall slack as he slowly picked up the pace, stimulating your clitoris a little more.

The sounds that were coming from the underside of his cock rubbing against your wet slit were pornographic almost. Slosh, slosh, slosh. If he could drown in your puddles of wetness, he’d be all in you every second of everyday.

“Cock hungry and I haven’t even been inside of you,” he coo’d. He drew his hips back, the tip of his cock slipping past your folds. Miguel’s eyes locked onto yours as he gently prodded past your pussy lips.

At this point, it was like you were the animal. Bucking your hips in desperation, tears spilling from your eyes as you pleaded - as you begged him to break you. He could take you however he wanted, he could make it hurt, you just needed him.

“You’re gonna shut up and take what I give you, like the slut you are. Do you understand me?” his voice was stern enough to pull you from your cock drunk state. You nodded your head. “Use your words, princesa.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” you answered before he shoved his fingers into your mouth, to which you suckled on with joy.

“That’s my good girl,” he gave you positive reinforcement. Slowly begin to move his hips again, only this time he had his thumb placed on top of the fabric of your panties, so he could keep the placement of his cock over your clit.

His pace was unforgiving. The sound of you begging so desperately for his cock echoing. The image of you crying over not being fucked was glued to the back of his eyelids. You were so cock drunk already, it made him wonder how long you’d been thinking about him fucking you.

Images of you fucking yourself with your fingers, free hand pinching your nipple while moaning his name popped up in his head. Here you were, projecting images into his head once more. As he’s fucking you through your panties, he can feel the grip of your mouth releasing his fingers. Your mouth was ajar as he pistoned his hips against yours, your moans and his grunts filling the room.

“Fuck, Miguel,” you moaned, your hand capturing your breast. “Please, can I come?”

How obedient. Still asking him permission after he told you to take whatever it was he was giving. How much were you wrapped around his finger?

“Yeah baby, you can come. Come for me,” he leaned over, mumbling into your ear, his teeth grazing over the shell of your ear. “Come on, be a good girl for me.” hearing that made you whimper in his ear as you released the knot that was forming in your stomach.

“Fuu-“ you whined, arching your back against him. Your walls clenched around nothing, wishing you could milk him for every drop. You felt your body convulse as euphoria took over you, your cheeks flushed red as your legs shook around Miguel. He could feel your hard nipples on his bare chest. In the frenzy you were in, he had no idea how you were even coherent enough to reach down between you two. Your hand kept his cock in place while your thumb circled around his sensitive tip.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head. He imagined the softness of your hands being as soft as you were on the inside as he pounded you. His hips began to stammer as he released his load into your panties, with a guttural moan. His hips slowed and he rested his forehead against yours.

You could feel how heavy your panties were. They were slicked down from the wetness of your pussy, and now they were filled with Miguel’s cum.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” Miguel muttered.

“Huh?” he heard Jess’ voice in confusion.

He blinked and suddenly Jess, Peter, and you surrounded him. Just as you did during the mission report. Jess and Peter were confused to say the least, but not you.

Your smug grin confirmed Miguel’s thoughts. You had been using your powers to project your sexual fantasies in his head.

“Ay coño,” he whispered under his breath. “I’m gonna fucking kill her.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

So.... Stock image

https://www.vecteezy.com/vector-art/11430941-halloween-black-silhouette-repeating-border

[Referencing this post!]

Yuuup, that’s pretty much the same thing as what we see in the PV… 😅 Same shapes, same pattern order, everything.

Upon further research, it seems this isn’t even the first instance of this stock asset being used by Disney. It was also used for a limited edition Sally-inspired perfume called Rag Doll. I believe it was sold at Hot Topic back in 2013:

It’s a little saddening seeing TWST use stock images instead of like… you know, new assets 💦 This is following a somewhat disappointing trend of TWST animated PVs going down in quality and budget, especially over the years. For example, for the anniversaries:

2021 - 2 minutes long; all students included in highly individualized limited event outfits and movement is dynamic.

2022 - 1 minute long; all students and even staff are included but in standard uniforms, noticeable drop in art and animation quality (for example, look at Kalim and Silver in the flight scene). Animation itself is framed like Yuu is taking pictures of everyone—but really, it’s a convenient excuse to hold on static shots of the photos instead of actually animating them.

2023 - 1 minute and ~40 seconds; only the third years in their school uniforms and Grim in ceremonial robes are featured. Animation appears slow and somewhat clunky. And dear god, that weird panning shot of Malleus and Lilia; that Lilia is practically traced from his live 2D model.

2024 - 1 minute and ~10 seconds; basically a glorified slideshow with fancy effects. Only the dorm leaders in their school uniforms are shown.

Then, looking at the Halloweens:

Terror is Trending - 30 seconds; All students included and dorm costumes showcased. Unique shots and framing. Even Ramshackle Ghosts (who are important in the event story) are shown.

Endless Halloween Night - 4 different versions of the same commercial (including different characters doing the voiceover work), each ~30 seconds each; all students featured. Nice lighting, fierce expressions, varied framing.

Glorious Masquerade - 1 minute and 30 seconds. Several static panning shots, but at least the colors are striking when most other things are monochrome or muted. ~20 seconds at the end dedicated to hyping up Rollo.

Stage in Playful Land - ~35 seconds. Only the 3 SSR boys are featured, with most of the animation being in their head tilts. Less than 10 seconds is dedicated to hyping up Fellow and Gidel.

This year’s event… 20 seconds using a stock image and panning up from it to the TWST logo, no new assets.

I DON’T KNOW, maybe I’m overthinking it 😭 I’m definitely not the first person to notice this though… It’s been a point of discussion in my fandom social circles.

But hey, let’s keep our heads high! It’s very possible that we’ll get a more formal animated PV in the weeks leading up to Halloween. In fact, I’m certain of it since this current PV doesn’t show new costumes or the new twisted character, as is tradition. What we see now might just be a bonus material they’re releasing to really get us excited. Plus, we’ll probably also have an ABEMA stream with more Halloween-related news ^^ Let’s look forward to that!

[cosmic-cupidsss]

💌 YOUR MAJESTY

—➤ pairing: shoto todoroki

—➤ tags: fluff, no quirks + fantasy au, arranged marriage, inspired by Queen Charlotte. reader is kinda blunt and likes to talk, little to no usage of y/n. Shoto might be ooc.

—➤ note: As King, Shoto must choose a queen to marry, one that would make his irritating excuse of a father happy, Of course you have been chosen as the bride, but meeting your betrothed was more awkward (but cute) than you’d expect.

You didn’t have much family, the only person that took care of you was your elder sister, she was your sole guardian ever since your parents had passed, and since she was the eldest all the wealth and riches had gone to her and the custody of their youngest child, which was you.

You had never really intended to leave your sister’s side, especially due to the ways of marriage, you had always thought that your sister would always be there for you, no matter what.

So imagine your fear when you were to be married off the new crowned King of the land.

You were devastated, especially since nobody had informed you on the matter, you were unknowingly thrust into this chaotic world of royalty without a thought of opinion from you.

There was nothing you could do about it.

You had arrived at the palace, no expectations in hand, and you were greeted by the King’s father, but not the king himself.

“You will meet him on your wedding day” she was told by his mother, she was brief and did not feel welcoming.

For the next weeks of your new life, you were just galavanting around the grand palace, in your luxury new gowns and expensive and sparkly crowns and diamond jewels.

It was nice and all, but you were starting to feel lonely. Very lonely. The staff that followed you around like bodyguards never seemed to talk to you unless spoken to, and they weren’t allowed to speak freely at any point, the King’s mother; who stayed in the palace as well rarely seemed to want to get to know you either, the woman always had a cold attitude towards you, and everyone around her.

No one ever seemed to talk about the King and what he was like, which was really strange to you.

But you read, you took quiet strolls along the maze like gardens of the castle, and slowly, but surely, your wedding day had arrived.

“Is he handsome? Is he kind? Is he funny?”

You had been standing at this one position for hours now, getting your wedding gown fitted on you by several maidens, it had been awkwardly quiet for a while now, and the nerves of your wedding in a matter of hours was starting to set in, you really needed a prescription on the person you are about to be married to.

“What are his hobbies? Does he like art? Reading? Writing? Poetry??” You continued on as you looked at yourself in the mirror, the fact that you looked stunning calmed your nerves down just a bit.

“Does he like fencing-“

One of the maids fitting your dress cut you off, “this is a discussion for after the dress is fitted my lady,” she said with a small smile, she really didn’t want to answer your questions, but you were too persistent.

“Is he unattractive to look at?” You suddenly asked which took the maiden aback just a little, “is that why you will not answer my questions..”

“If he is deformed in some way I’m certain that won’t be an issue…beauty is on the inside after all” you rambled on, you hummed a bit, thinking about your words carefully before contradicting them, “Well beauty is not inside..but if his personality overcomes that then I don’t see any problem!”

The maid started sweating at your release of words, she had honestly never met someone so blunt and talkative, “Your Highness, please—“

“Is he not smart? If so then that’s a rather bad thing to be when you’re a king…but I guess if he is the king he has to be intelligent. Right?” You turned to the maiden with a small smile, “Is he cruel? How does he treat servants that cater to him?”

The maiden was practically sweating, not knowing what to do, she made eye contact with several other maidens, one just uncomfortably chuckled, putting on a faux smile as she spoke “I’m sure you two will have beautiful children together..”

The small smile you had on earlier faded away as she said those words, irking you just a bit, it was already bad enough that you were getting married to someone you hardly knew, but children? Oh heavens no!

You decided not to speak anymore and stare at yourself in the mirror, at least with all the talking you did time was able to pass just a little bit faster, you were almost finished with your fitting.

A sense of uncomfort grew within you the more you stared at yourself in this mirror. Is this who you were to be for the rest of your days? A woman in a loveless marriage with an unknown man?

You weren’t going to do this.

“All done!” The maiden cheered, “and three hours before the ceremony too, we have outdone ourselves ladies!” She said to the other maidens.

They all soon left, and you were left alone in the fitting room. They mentioned the wedding was in three hours? That was more than enough time for you to make your grand escape.

You had walked out out that changing room, clumps of your long wedding gown in your fists as you ran for outside, luckily and surprisingly you weren’t spotted, and it was a very, very, very long walk to the palace gardens.

On your previous walks here, you had always spotted a wall in the garden that led to outside the palace. And it was the perfect escape root, and all you needed to do was climb it.

You knew your wedding gown was going to be a problem, since it was rather long, but you didn’t want to miss your chance. It was now or never!

Picking up the hems of your dress, you run towards the wall and jumped, but gravity was against you, and you fell hard of your bum, groaning in pain at the inconvenience.

"I should've known this wasn't going to be easy..." you muttered to yourself, getting up from the ground, you glared at the wall, eyeing it up and down, how dare this measly wall deny you your opportunity at escaping??

You decided to try again.

You jumped on the walls again, this time latching onto the vines and pulling yourself up, it was a struggle but soon you were able to almost get halfway up.

"Excuse me."

The sudden voice startled you, with a loud shriek you felt yourself fall down the wall again, the fall was much harder this time and you let out a small groan from the pain.

When you got up, you turned to see who called you, annoyed and ready to give him a good earful, but you were surprised when you laid your eyes onto a man, a devilishly handsome young man.

"Are you in need of assistance of any kind?" He spoke

He had pale skin, and red and white half split hair, as well as heterochromic eyes, blue and gray, on there was a large scar on the left side of his face that added an extra touch of uniqueness to his features.

His facial gaze looked rather stern, but softened once he got a good look at your face, but you didn’t seem to notice, you had turned your back to him to face the wall you had fallen from.

"I'm quite fine, thank you." You said, "you can go back inside and wait with all the other servants and guests."

The man gave a small hum, "I was just about to, but I was curious to see what exactly was going on here-"

"Nothing" you cut him off, turning to him, trying to act as normal as possible “nothing is going on.”

The man sighed, “there clearly is something going on here ma’am.”

There was an irritated look on her face, “Ma’am? I am twenty years of age thank you very much!” You exclaimed, “but if you must know I’m trying to climb over this wretched wall” you pointed.

He raised his brow "What for?"

She looked at him weirdly, “that is none of your business.” You stated, earning another eye brow raise from him, you didn’t like that look, and for some reason you felt a need to tell him.

You sighed, "I'm afraid of the predicament that I have been forced into, so I’m climbing this wall to escape my problems..” you felt a little bit better after saying that, “not that you'd care, I believe you are a servant right? No that can’t be it I haven’t seen you before.." you muttered, putting a finger to your chin in question. “Are you a guest of some sort? I don’t know you, so you are not part of my court..”

You chose not to dwell on it, even though you were finding it suspicious how he was able to find his way into the royal gardens, but that wasn’t your business. You checked him out, noticing he was very tall and had a muscular build. He seemed to follow your eyes, a little flustered by how shameless you were being.

“What are you—“

"You look strong.” You cut him off, “Help me climb over."

"You're asking me to help you ease your escape?"

You chuckled, "it was more of a statement than a question.." you murmured before clearing her throat, "Yes that's what I implied."

“People inside will notice you are missing” he commented.

“I have no worries about that, once I am missing they will find another poor unfortunate lady to marry off to a king that no one clearly wants to speak of..” you say to him, “so will you help me or not?”

"I have no intentions of helping you"

You looked at him, tilting your head, "I am a lady in distress. You will not help a lady in distress? That is very rude."

You tried to walk back to the wall, but he stopped you by grabbing your wrist, you were surprised by the contact, looking at the man cautiously.

"I refuse to help a lady in distress so that she doesn't have to marry me."

Your eyes widen, and when he let go off you, you stepped back, gasping softly, he caught sight of all three emotions that were evident on your face. You were confused, in shock, dumbfounded. He was impressed at how expressive you were.

"I'm sorry we had to meet this way my lady…" he spoke to you, an amusing smile on his face as he stepped closer to you. “I am to be your husband, call me Shoto”

“[name] call me [name]…” you trailed off, your ideas of running away had faded away, now staring at this man— who claims to be your future husband— at a loss for words.

“I…” you croaked, “I am deeply s..” truly you couldn’t speak at all.

“Your majesty…” you went to a bow, but he took your hand, signalling you to stand up straight.

“As I said before to you, you can call me Shoto..” he smiled again, “no need for formalities..”

You breathed in a laugh, “honestly…” you begun, “If I had known…I wouldn’t have…I..”

“You wouldn’t have tried to go over the castle walls?” He mused, earning a chuckle from you.

“Well yes…and..I wouldn’t have been so anxious to marry you…” you smiled, “If I had known..”

Shoto dear smile grew bigger at the sight of yours, he was already enamoured by you.

“I am so rude..if you wouldn’t want to marry me now, I’d completely understand” you shook your head.

“Who said I didn’t want to?” He remarked, “and if I recall, the ceremony is in an hour, so we must hurry” he took your hand, “don’t want to keep anyone waiting.

You followed him out the garden and into the palace, where the ceremony was to be taken place, and even though you were anxious before, now you were relieved and a bit happy, and so glad that you didn’t succeed in climbing that palace wall.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Flowers

Based off the song by Miley Cyrus

AN: the wait is finally over!

Synopsis: You have been in a committed relationship with Jack for over a year, but since the two of you have released this information to the world, your jealous ex can't help but to wonder if you can find it in your heart to give him a second chance

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader, Former Joe Burrow x Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

It was becoming light outside when you were awakened by Jack placing several kisses all over your face and a smile couldn't help but to break out as you opened your eyes to look at him.

“Good morning my beautiful fiancée.” You heard him say and listened to his morning voice that you loved so much.

“Good morning my love.”

“What do you have planned for today?” He asked as he proceeded to lay on his back as you moved so that your head was on his chest as he started to draw small circles along your back.

“I have a fitting with Margot Robbie and that’s about it. I might go out with Briana, Emma, and Naomi later if I'm feeling up to it. What about you?” You asked as you reached up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Probably just go to the studio, I shouldn’t be gone long. I have some things I want to work on.”

His answer immediately led to you rolling your eyes and you stifled a laugh as Jack looked at you curiously.

“What? What was that for?"

“Now you know good and well that when you say you’ll be at the studio and won’t be gone long that it really means 3 am and for me not to wait up for you.”

“Babe! I promise it won’t be 3 am this time! I was in the zone and didn’t want to mess that up.”

“I get it, I get it. But if this happens tonight, please tell me and not have me worrying about you. Last time you almost gave me a heart attack thinking that something was wrong.”

“I’m sorry and I promise to. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen again. I… know how your trust issues are. I’ve never given you a reason not to trust me and I don’t want to start now.”

“I love you.” You told him as you pinched his cheek making him smile.

“I love you too.” Jack swiftly answered as he leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m about to go get ready, you want to join me?”

“As tempting as that sounds, you know for a fact that you won’t make it to the studio any time soon. And you getting back at 3 am will probably be 5 am."

“I-... good point.”

“I’ll probably just go back to sleep, the fitting isn’t until later anyway.”

"Oh, I wore you out last night?" He asked while wiggling his eyebrows.

"Don't start."

"What? I was just asking!"

"Bye, Jackman and go get ready." You replied while laughing and lightly pushed him so he could get up.

Jack simply nodded as he moved from behind you and got up to make his way into the bathroom.

"Don't worry, you'll get this work later." You heard him yell from the bathroom and you immediately rolled your eyes as you let out a small laugh.

You had grabbed your phone off of the nightstand and you were completely caught off guard from one of your notifications from instagram.

1 New Message

Joeyb_9: Y/N, can we meet up and talk? I miss you

You felt your anxiety as well as your heart rate increase as you read the message. There was no way in the world that you were going to reopen a wound that you had healed from.

After the intense break up from your superstar NFL boyfriend, Joe Burrow, you swore that you would never put yourself in such a vulnerable position again.

The cheating, the lying, him sneaking behind your back was a thing of the past and you didn't plan on going back.

So, he had another thing coming if he thought that you were ever going to give him the time of day.

One thing that he always did every week was buy you a bouquet of your favorite flowers no matter if you were with him or not. You soon came to the conclusion that you could buy yourself your own flowers and didn't need a man to do that after seeing how he acted towards you.

Especially one that stopped buying them for you after the first year of your relationship and only bought you them with an expensive piece of jewelry because he had cheated again and would do anything in order for you to take him back.

"Baby, it won't happen again, I promise."

So you did give him another chance and once again he blew it. You should have learned your lesson the first time, but Joe being a sweet talker reeled you back in.

You blocked his number, blocked him on social media, and made sure that he gave you back your key to your condo.

A condo that he had bought but at this rate, you deserved to keep it.

You were content with being the rich auntie who got to travel the world and would bring back expensive gifts for everyone while dressing celebrities in your latest designs.

That was until you were asked to style your now fiancé Jack Harlow for The Grammys in 2022. The first time the two of you met, it was as if there was no one else in the room since your eyes never left each other.

You had heard of him and was quite a big fan, so obviously you were excited. Being Joe Burrow's girlfriend did have its perks. Once he got to the NFL and he knew how you wanted to be a designer, you would style him for events and that moved to his teammates, their significant others, and then onto other celebrities.

Jack had heard of you since you had styled Drake for an event before and he had highly recommended you. He took him up on his suggestion and soon found himself the woman that he wanted to marry.

It was hard to break into this industry and the one thing you could thank Joe for was helping you do it. You wanted to not be seen just as his girlfriend and known for your work so your relationship was kept low key. This made it easier for when you did break off things with him not having people follow your every move.

Except, Joe did follow your every move waiting for the right opportunity to present itself so that he could work his magic and his charm on you in the hopes of winning you back.

However, you weren't falling for this shit again because you had moved on and found someone ten times better.

You recalled the last time he had cheated and presented you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers which you immediately grabbed and put it in the trash can as he watched the scene unfold in front of him and told him that you didn’t need a man for shit including buying you flowers. That was the last time you had talked to him and it was over two years ago.

From that point on, you bought your favorite flowers for yourself and once Jack caught on to this, he quickly took over once he had heard your reasoning behind it.

You remember him telling you that you deserved to get as many flowers as you want from someone who loves and appreciates you and you remember your breath hitching in your throat. That was the first time that he told you that he loved you and has kept his word ever since.

What you didn't plan on was becoming Jack's girlfriend and now fiancée and Joe getting the sudden realization that he wanted you back.

All because you and Jack had gone public with your relationship not even 72 hours ago and you had a feeling that he saw it. The two of you had kept it quiet for the entire time that you had been dating, but once he put that huge ass ring on your finger, you wanted to share it with the world.

You had only blocked him from your personal account and not the one for your fashion line so of course that came with you muttering "Fuck" under your breath and shaking your head.

Jack had come out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and had heard you so he was immediately concerned.

"Baby? You okay?"

"Um… "

"What's wrong?"

Not wanting to hide anything from Jack, you quickly shoved your phone into his hand showing him the message and his eyebrows furrowed and he looked confused.

"Why is Joe Burrow sending you messages on instagram?"

"Remember that ex who cheated on me multiple times but still expected me to take him back?"

"Don't tell me…." Jack said as he looked back up at you.

"That's him."

"And it's his fucking loss. You're mine now so he can go throw footballs and fuck off somewhere."

Jack handed you back your phone and you immediately blocked him, not even bothering to respond. He should have known better, you finally had someone who respected and cared for you and you for damn sure wasn't going to go back to him.

"He better get the message loud and clear too. No one told him to treat you like shit. Why did you never mention that it was him?"

"I'd rather not dwell on him treating me like that when I have someone that is a million times better in front of me." You said being completely honest and Jack simply smiled at you before leaning down to kiss you.

"This is forever and I don't give a fuck who doesn't like it or who doesn't agree. You're mine and I'm yours. Besides, can he fight?"

"I-... Jack he is a little taller than you and the most he could probably do is try to throw a dumbbell to hit you."

"Oh, so I have a chance to take him?"

"Well….. um…. you're my future husband and I'm going to stick beside you."

"In other words, no and you'll still love me even if he kicks my ass?"

"Correct, babe. But… he can't fight either."

"Woooooooow, zero confidence in me." Jack responded while shaking his head at you while you were trying not to laugh.

"Did I tell you that I love you and that I'll bring you food later at the studio?" You replied while batting your eyelashes at him.

"Don't try and butter me up now."

"Well I'll tell you again. I love you, baby. Now go get dressed."

"I might have to skip the studio and add an extra gym day instead. How much can he bench press?"

Before going to the fitting with Margot, you cleaned up around your shared house with Jack in the hopes of getting what had happened this morning out of your head. He had the absolute nerve to think that you would even give him the time of day.

You quickly sent a message to your three best friends Briana, Emma, and Naomi telling them you wanted to meet for a late lunch after the fitting and if they were free.

All three of them quickly said yes and you couldn't wait to tell them what Joe had pulled. Next thing you know Ja'Marr was about to be in your DM's and you would simply tell him to fuck off since he knew what Joe was doing behind your back, but would simply smile in your face and act like nothing was happening. He got cut off right along with him when you finally decided to do it.

There all four of you were sharing a plate of fried calamari and you had just finished telling them what had happened earlier that morning.

"Ew, are you serious? He has got some fucking nerve." Emma said before taking a sip of her drink and looking at you in disbelief.

"Same thing I said."

"Did you tell Jack?"

"Of course I did. The last thing I ever want to do is keep something from him." You replied while dipping your piece of calamari in the sauce that it came with.

"Well maybe you should hear him out." The entire table had gone silent as all of you looked over at Briana in disbelief.

"Uh? Come again?" Naomi was the first person to break the silence.

"Just hear what he has to say." She replied while shrugging and you simply rolled your eyes.

"So she's supposed to listen to the person who cheated on her multiple times and still did it after she forgave him?" Emma asked while not believing what she was hearing.

"Maybe he's changed."

"I highly doubt it and why would I even entertain this when I have an amazing fiancé who treats me like I'm supposed to be treated? Bri, since you want to hear him out so bad you go and give him a chance."

"I was just saying that maybe you should keep your options open."

"Girl, what the hell is wrong with you today? Where is the Briana that wanted to fight Joe every time this happened and would beg me to leave him?" You asked as you looked at her confused.

"I just think it couldn't hurt."

"Well if I ever decide to do it, I'm bringing Jack with me."

"Okay moving on. So, do we have a wedding date? Venue? Flowers? Maid of honor?" Naomi asked as she batted her eyelashes and was grilling you left and right while all you could do was laugh.

"We literally just got engaged this week!" You answered while smiling at her.

"And is that supposed to mean something?! We all knew from the first time you two met that this would be forever. I'm just so happy for you and Jack is the entire package. I love the way he loves you. You deserve this after how that asshole treated you. But just let Jack know if he steps a toe out of line, I'll cut his dick off." Emma said while still looking over the menu trying to decide what she was going to get for her dessert later.

"He means so much to me and I'm happy that I have him. I literally can go to him for anything and it seems that he always knows what to say in order to make me feel better. I love that man with my whole heart."

"Not you making me want to get married." Naomi said while laughing and you simply eyed her.

"I can always put in a word for you for Urban." You responded and you could immediately tell her cheeks were heating up.

"Just make sure at the wedding, we get paired together."

"Say less."

—

Joe let out a sigh and Ja’Marr immediately looked over at him and asked what was wrong.

"She blocked me again.”

“Are we….. surprised? I mean look how you acted towards her.” He quickly answered and Joe instantly had a look of annoyance on his face.

“This time will be different. I just need her to forgive me one more time.”

“Now… you cannot be serious. You cheated on her how many times? And not even including the times you didn’t tell her about.”

“I just wasn’t thinking straight, but now I am.”

“Now that she’s about to be a whole married woman, suddenly you grew up and matured? You literally haven’t mentioned anything about her until I sent you that pic on instagram with the two of them.”

“He doesn’t deserve her.”

Ja’Marr immediately rolled his eyes.

“Oh, and you do? When you treated her like absolute shit. You my boy so obviously I didn’t tell her in the hopes that you would get your shit together, but that clearly didn’t work out. Like Y/N would have done anything for you.”

“I just need to talk to her in person, I’m sure that I can change her mind.”

“Delusional much?”

“Will you just back me up on this?!”

“Back you up on what? Stupidity?” Ja’Marr answered, but Joe was clearly on a mission and would not let this go easily. You were his girl through and through and he was about to do anything he can in order to be able to get you back.

“You’ll see, she’s going to take me back.”

All Ja’Marr did was roll his eyes in response.

“Hmm, good luck with that. But don’t call me crying when she tells you no.”

“I won’t have to because she’s not going to.”

From that point on, it was the middle of the summer so since training camp hadn’t started yet, Joe was making you his full-time mission. He knew that because of you now being engaged to Jack, more than likely you were spending the majority of your time in Louisville so that is where he decided to go first.

He figured that if he could find you anywhere that it would be at your boutique.

Once he walked in, he immediately saw Emma who he knew was one of your best friends and she immediately sent a death glare in his direction and her eyes wouldn’t leave his. The last thing she wanted to do was make a scene, but she just couldn’t help herself and blurted it out.

“What the actual fuck are you doing here? She’s not here and doesn’t want to see you and you need to leave before I call security.”

“Relax Emma, I come in peace.” Joe answered with his hands up in defense, but she wasn’t having it.

“And you will leave here in pieces if you don’t get the fuck on somewhere. She doesn’t want you anymore. She’s finally happy and I for damn sure am not going to let you mess anything up for her.”

“I just can’t come by to say hi?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions. You might have everyone else fooled, but not me because I know how you truly are out of the spotlight. Stay away from her or I will not hesitate to tell Jack and he isn’t going to be happy.”

“I see I’ve caught you at a bad time, but I’ll be back to talk to my girl.”

“Burrow, go fuck yourself.”

When Joe had finally left the boutique, Emma immediately called you.

“Hey boo!”

“Babe! Don’t come back to the boutique for the rest of the day. Go bother Jack or something.”

“What the? What’s wrong?”

“Joe was here looking for you and I kicked him out. He needs to get a fucking grip because ain’t no way in hell you’re about to take him back. I had to mention that I was going to tell Jack in order for him to leave.”

“I….”

“Just… go spend time with Jack. I got this covered, go wedding plan or something.”

Once you had gotten off the phone, you were visibly upset and needed to get your mind off of things. You were going to take her advice and go home and try to spend time with Jack because at this point, you didn’t know what to do.

You had thrown the different fabrics in the backseat of your car before going to sit in the front and dialed Jack’s number. You sped out of the parking lot in the direction of your shared house not believing that he had the absolute nerve to do this.

It didn’t even ring two times, before you heard his voice.

“Yes, my future wife? What’s up, baby?”

“Can you… can you come home?” You quietly asked and you already knew that Jack was not going to let this go without knowing what was wrong with you.

“Of course, baby. Did something happen? I can hear it in your voice. I know when something is wrong with you.”

“Umm…..”

“Don’t start that, tell me.”

“Joe showed up at the boutique looking for me and Emma called and told me.”

“He WHAT?” Jack’s voice instantly got louder and stopped what he was doing.

“I… don’t want you to get upset.”

“How can I not be? What the hell is his problem? You don’t respond to his DM and now he comes here looking for you? He needs to stay the fuck away. Nah, now he got me pissed off.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not, but protecting you is my main priority.”

“Can you just come home? I don't even want to think about this anymore.”

“Give me fifteen minutes.”

As promised, within fifteen minutes you heard the front door open indicating that Jack was now home. You were simply sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket burrito as you flipped through Disney Plus in order to find something to watch. Jack walked over to you and leaned down to kiss your forehead as you popped your arms out from underneath the blanket to hug him.

“You pick the movie and I'll order food. What do you have a taste for?”

“Hmm Italian please.”

“Coming right up.”

“I'm sorry to take you away from what you were doing, I should have just waited until you got home.” You quietly said as you thought about it.

“No, work can wait. If my baby needs me, she needs me and I'm going to make sure she's okay.” He told you as he stroked your face and you simply nodded.

“What do you think he even wants?” He asked as he placed his phone on the coffee table and sat next to you.

“To talk to me to get me to forgive him. It's always the same thing every time. He thinks that an expensive piece of jewelry and flowers are all that he needs to change my mind. At one point in time that might have worked, but not now.”

A week or so had passed without incident, but you were in for a surprise while you were at your boutique finishing up some sketches when you got a bouquet of flowers delivered.

You smiled at first thinking that they were from Jack and quickly went to facetime him without bothering to read the note attached to them.

“Hey pretty girl.” Jack said and he looked to be eating with Urban beside him.

“Hey handsome. Thank you for my flowers, they're so pretty.” You exclaimed as you switched the camera to show him.

Jack instantly got quiet and stopped chewing as he stared at them and let out a sigh. He instantly looked pissed off. You were confused and looked at him dumbfounded.

“I didn't send you those.”

“Wait, what? But they're my favorite. How….” You trailed off as you grabbed the note that was in the bouquet and looked at it in utter disgust as you saw Joe’s handwriting staring back at you. Without finishing the note, you promptly grabbed the bouquet and walked over to the trash can, throwing it in there before responding to Jack.

“Why doesn't he understand that I’m never going to give him another chance and that he is just simply wasting his time?” You quietly said and Jack had yet to say anything. From the moment you realized that he didn't send them, he instantly knew who did.

“I don't know, but this is really starting to piss me off.”

"I think that I just need to have a conversation with him. Even though I know that the last thing you want is for me to be around him, but it's the best idea I have."

"I was thinking restraining order, but okay."

"I don't even want to think about this anymore. We have other things to worry about, like what we're wearing to Michael's party."

yourinstagramname added to their story

The two of you showed up to the party together and were mingling with the other guests when you had told Jack that you were going to get another drink. He simply nodded at you and continued to talk to Druski. You made your way inside and refilled your glass when you felt a presence behind you. You silently cursed to yourself once you had gotten a whiff of the familiar cologne that you never wanted to smell again for as long as you lived because of the person that you knew it was attached to.

That wasn't your fiancé, but your ex-boyfriend who you did not know would be in attendance. If you would have known that he was going to be here, you would have stayed cuddled up under Jack at your hotel and not even bother to show up.

“I knew we'd cross paths sooner or later.” You heard Joe say before you turned around to look at him.

“And you can keep walking because I have absolutely nothing to say to you.”

“Come on Y/N, don't be like that. I just want to talk. Just give me one more chance. I should have been the one to put that ring on your finger, not him.”

"You blew the multiple chances that I gave you so what makes you think you deserve another one? Do you think I'm really stupid enough to take you back after all that?” You asked as you looked at him in disbelief.

"I love you, doesn't that mean anything?!"

"No and no you're not. Not when I'm in love with my fiancé and you're in love with the idea of me. Someone you can have on your arm for everyone to see, but treat me like shit from behind the scenes. Face it, you blew it and whatever this was at one time is officially over and never happening again.”

Joe didn't get to respond to you because he saw Jack approaching from behind and promptly wrapped his arms around you before turning your face to kiss you.

“Everything okay over here?” Jack asked as he made eye contact with Joe before looking him up and down.

Joe hadn't been sure if you had told Jack all that had gone down between the two of you, but clearly because of the look on his face, it was obvious.

“Yep, just fine. Got my drink and I was just about to come and find you.” You answered as you smiled at him.

“Teyana was looking for you. She's out by the pool.” He told you as he nudged you in that direction.

You just prayed that this didn't end in a fight between the two of them.

“Well that's my cue to make my way out there.” Was all you said before leaving your ex in the presence of your fiancé.

Once you were out of earshot, Jack turned to Joe and didn't hold back on how he felt about him contacting you when the only thing you wanted was for him to leave you alone.

“I just want you to listen to me and listen to me good. There's literally no need for you to say anything or respond when I'm finished. You fucked up and you lost your chance or should I say chances with her. Y/N is now going to be my wife and the last thing she needs is her ex-boyfriend lurking in the shadows because he has a sudden realization of wanting that old thing back all because you're jealous because now she's happy and with someone who isn't you. While you two were together, you broke her trust and if you honestly think that she was going to give you another chance is wild. So take this as a warning to stay away from her and we won't have any problems. The place of her soon to be husband is spoken for, okay Joe? Good talk.”

It was quiet for a few seconds and as Jack turned to walk away from him, he heard his voice.

“I like you, Jack. I really do, but sooner or later she'll realize the mistake she's making.”

“Only mistake she made when it came to you was staying with you for so long. Don't worry, I'll send you wedding pictures.”

Jack hadn't bothered to bring up what happened between him and Joe for the rest of the party, but you were itching to know. You didn't see him for the rest of it, however you did see Ja’Marr and it looked like he was trying to make his way over to you, but he noticed the death glare that you were giving him and decided against it.

You and Jack had now just gotten back to your hotel room and had gotten settled for the night when you brought it up. He was scrolling on his phone, but could feel you looking at him.

“Yes, baby?”

“What did you say to him? Because I know you don't like confrontation, but I know you were pissed about the entire thing.”

“I just let him know to leave you alone, that's all.” Jack answered as he shrugged and you weren't entirely convinced.

“You threatened him, didn't you?”

“Threat is a very strong word, baby. I make promises. He shouldn't be a problem anymore, but if he is, you need to tell me. I'm the only man that is buying you flowers.”

___

About another three weeks had passed and you were currently at your boutique, but also wedding planning when you got small breaks in between clients. You had gotten some wedding magazines and let Jack know that you wanted his opinion so the two of you could move forward with the process.

Of course he had told you that he would be at the studio majority of the day and simply asked Briana to drop them off for you so you didn't have to leave the boutique.

“Bri, can you drop something off to Jack for me? He already knows that you're coming to meet him.” You asked her over the phone and that's when the wheels in her head started turning.

“Yeah, sure what is it?”

“Just a few wedding magazines and he was going to tell me any ideas he had later when we both got home.”

“Not a problem, I'll be there in 20.”

Once Briana got to the studio, Jack was already on facetime with you and the woman at the front let her know where she could find Jack. She made her way down the long hallway and stuck her head in to peek inside the room to see Jack and quickly called out to him.

“Hey Jack, I brought the magazines for you.”

“Oh hey, Briana. Thanks for bringing them. I hope it didn't put you out of your way at all.” He told her as he took the magazines from her hands.

“Not at all, I didn't mind. I had gotten off work early anyway so that's why Y/N asked me.” She told him and he simply nodded, but he was confused at the fact that she was still standing there.

“Uh, Briana? Did you need something else?”

“You know, I was honestly hoping that Y/N would give Joe another chance when she first told me about him sending her a DM.” Briana said and Jack immediately turned up his nose.

“Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I meant so that we could be together and everyone would get their happily ever after.”

“Wait, what? Briana I don't like you like that and I never have and never will. I'm marrying Y/N who is your best friend so I'm going to need for you to stop embarrassing yourself.”

Little did she know that you were hearing this conversation in its entirety.

“What does she have that I don't?”

“I… I am not doing this with you. So you can see yourself out.” Jack told her as he turned away from her, but she quickly tugged on his arm to turn him back around and attempted to kiss him, but he dodged her.

“You have three seconds to get out of my sight. I don't know what the hell is wrong with you but you can now consider yourself uninvited to the wedding.”

“Jack, she doesn't have to know.”

Just then she heard your voice come through Jack’s phone.

“Too late, because I already do.”

“Oh, um….”

"You and Joe deserve each other with how the two of you act."

As you were listening to the entire exchange on the other end, you were honestly in disbelief. Your best friend who had been your friend for years just tried to get Jack to cheat on you. And now thinking about it, everything now made sense. She started acting weird ever since the two of you got engaged all because you see how she now wanted Jack for herself.

You didn't say another word as you hung up the phone and tried to process everything that had just happened as you sat in your boutique. You only had one client left for the day and then you would be able to go home and think about how you couldn't see what she was trying to do all along.

The phone vibrated in your hand and you looked down to see that Jack was calling you back and you quickly answered.

“I…”

“I know.” He quietly said because you were obviously extremely upset.

“How could she do that to me? My so-called best friend.” You asked him as tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“Like you said, she and Joe deserve each other. I'm just happy you were on the phone and heard the entire thing. Of course I would have told you anyway, but still.”

“Babe….”

“Yes?”

“I want to elope.”

One week later the two of you were in the Maldives as you were admiring your huge wedding ring gracing your finger.

“You act like it's about to disappear.” Jack teased as he peered over at you.

“Shut up, it's pretty!”

“But you're prettier.”

“Hmm, tell me something I don't know.” You responded and all Jack did was look at you in disbelief.

“Hmm, not the response I was looking for. I thought that I was going to get a thank you.”

“Fine. Thank you, husband.” You told him as you reached up to kiss him before he smiled at you.

“That's more like it.”

“You know I had a thought…” You started to say before stopping mid sentence.

“And what's that thought, baby?”

“When I left him, I thought no one would be able to love me better than he could but you came along and proved me wrong.”

“And you'll never have to question how I feel about you or how important you are to me.”

“And even though I can buy myself flowers, I love them more when they come from you.”

I can buy myself flowers

Write my name in the sand

Talk to myself for hours

Say things you don't understand

I can take myself dancing

And I can hold my own hand

Yeah, I can love me better than you can

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Daddy's Girl

Pairing: Dark Tangerine x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Tangerine can’t stand his little girl’s tears, especially when you’re the reason behind them.

WARNING: Forced/Abusive Marriage; Implied Kidnapping context; NONCON. 

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Make sure to imagine that lovely British accent of his, hehe. Also I wanted to wait a bit before posting this, but I wanna share this so bad :) enjoy!

--

The loud noise from the television travels to the kitchen, muffling down the sounds of the knife violently cutting down a carrot. Tangerine has a tight grip on the knife, a pissed off scowl on his face as he spits an unhealthy amount of curses. 

He’s so caught up that he misses the small quiet steps that run towards the kitchen and it’s only when there is a hesitant tug on his sleeve that he looks down, finding a small female miniature of himself, standing in her tippy toes in front of him as she raises her arms, her brown curls bouncing. 

He smiles at her, immediately picking her up, pushing the knife far away. Delighted giggles fill the kitchen as he tickles her. 

“What you doin’ here, princess? Are you hungry, sweetheart, cause lunch ain’t ready yet.” he kisses her cheek, his eyes glinting with pure amazement as he looks at Claire. 

His little angel. 

Claire’s laughter slowly dies down and she plays with the rings on his fingers. Her lip wobbles and when she finally looks at him, her eyes shinny with tears. 

It breaks Tangerine’s heart to see her like that and he wants nothing but to slap the shit out of you for making your babygirl cry. 

“I… I miss mommy.” her voice breaks as she starts crying. Tangerine sighs, hole burning in his chest as he gently pushes her head to his shoulder, rocking her in an attempt to calm her down. His hand rubs her back, her small body shaking as she sobs.

“Daddy, I want m-mommy.” she begs. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know. But mommy still needs some time.” he tries to console her but to no avail. 

Claire cries for what seems like forever and when she finally calms down, Tangerine's shirt is soaking wet, the lunch long forgotten. 

It takes several deep breaths for him to calm down and although he wants to go see you so badly, he puts Claire to sleep first.

He tucks her into her pink bed, placing her favorite teddy bear next to her. A peaceful expression rests on her face, exhausted from all the crying and Tangerine kisses her forehead before leaving the room.

“She fuckin’ cried herself to sleep.” Tangerine shouts to your face, your scalp stinging as his grip on your hair tightens.

“Do y’fuckin understand that? She fuckin’ cried because of you. Cause you’re a fuckin’ shitty mother, that’s what you are.”

Thick tears fall down from your red eyes and you stumble back when he releases your hair, falling back as you trip on the heavy chain attached to your ankle. 

You fall butt-down, pain alastrating on your back but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t even compare to the deep ache in your heart.

You also miss her. So much. It hurts that you haven’t seen your daughter in a week, kept in the basement as Tangerine lies about you being sick.  

“All she kept saying was how much she missed you. That she wanted you to feel better so she could finally see you. Fuck!”

“I…I’m so sorry.” you cry out. Tangerine only glares at you, nostrils flaring up. 

“This is all your fuckin’ fault. You just had to act smart, didn’t ya? Fucking’ hell.” his hand meets the wall with a loud bang and you wince, burying your face in your hands, frightened.

You’ve never seen him this angry before. Not even at the few times you tried to run away years ago. For once you’re actually glad that the basement is sound-proofed so that Claire doesn’t have to witness any of this. 

You messed up. Baldly. You should have known better than to plan an escape from Tangerine. 

But you were exhausted. Deeply tired of playing house with Tangerine. As much as you love your daughter but you want a better life. For yourself. For your sweet daughter. As much as you smile and laugh, pretending to be happy and in love with Tangerine for the sake of your daughter, you had reached your breaking point. 

“You're a selfish little’ bitch, only thinking ‘bout saving your own ass.” he snarls. 

You shake your head, desperate. 

“No! That’s not- She’s my daughter too.” 

Tangerine stares at you for what it seems forever and you hold your breath, watching him with a runny nose that you struggle to wipe with the back of your hand.

His hands on his hips as he considers you, neck veins bulging. He runs a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated as he exhales heavily.

“If you really love her, you gonna fuckin’ behave from now on. And I fuckin’ mean it. No more fuck up’s.” he warns you. 

Blinking away the tears, you nervously nod as he slowly walks towards you before stopping in front of you.

“Ya mean it, right? Then fuckin’ prove it cause you’re not leavin’ this basement without provin’ me that you can do better.” 

Confusion fills you until you see the look on Tangerine’s eyes. With shaky hands, you reach for his belt but he moves your hand towards his shirt and your heart drops. 

Not this. 

It’s uncomfortable, to say the least. You’re barely wet enough yet uncomfortably stretched by your husband’s cock as he slowly thrusts into you.

Given how angry he was, you were expecting him to fully rail you so you were surprised as he went at a slow, calm pace. Good for you.

His head is buried in your neck, low groans coming from him. It’s feel like an eternity as he fucks you gentle and deep till you lose track of time.

You suddenly hiss when his cock rams deep inside you, the thin old mattress softly squeaking under your combined weights. 

He pulls himself on his forearms, facing you as he starts to speed up, quickly slamming his hips forwards with a renewed force and you cry out, hands bawling the sheets. 

“S’ fucking’ tight, darling.” he husked, his sweaty curls falling to your face as he presses your foreheads together. “Gonn’ cum soon, fuck.”

His breathing halts as he fucks you vigorously, urgency in his thrusts. He doesn’t last longer, your velvety walls tightly squeezing his cock just the right way for him to approach his orgasm.

“Fuck, oh, fuck.” with a final harsh thrust, his body tenses up before finally relaxing. Tangerine releases a loud grunt, reaching his high while being balls deep inside you, his hands coming to grab your face as he connects your lips into a needy kiss, the bitter taste of cigarettes on him. 

When he lets you go, you release a shaky breath, feeling gross and violated with his cum beginning to leak. 

His nose touches yours, skin shiny with sweat and his blue eyes half-closed as he exhales, the warm breath hitting your face. He doesn’t seem that angry anymore, men really think with their dicks. 

“That was fuckin’ nice.” he smiles, his knuckles sweetly fawning over your cheek. “Maybe we should consider giving Claire a sibling. I think she’d love a baby brother.”

[cleo-fox]

As the Clock Strikes Midnight - Part VIII

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: In which you lie to yourself. Chapter Warnings: Sex, p in v sex, dirty talk, praise kink, wall sex, semi-public sex, library sex, unrealistic refractory periods. Tag List: I don’t have a tag list for this fic, sorry! The best way to hear about updates is to follow me on Tumblr or subscribe to the fic on AO3.

You don’t know what this is and you don’t know how to navigate it. 

Every night from dusk to midnight, you are in his bed. He makes you no promises and you don’t ask him to. You tell yourself that it’s meaningless, harmless, a bit of fun.

You ignore the fact that most sensible people would not define bedding a prince as a harmless bit of fun. Especially not when you’re a servant. Especially not when there’s so much that you could lose.

You ignore the fact that the longer it goes on, the more the meaningless parts start to feel substantive, the more it nudges at something in the center of your chest.

You ignore it all because if you don’t, if you stop and think very carefully about it, that’s when you will realize that you’ve wandered too far down a path that you ought not to have taken in the first place and by that point, it will be too late.

It is getting late and you are trying very hard to keep your eyes open. Your head is resting on Loki’s chest, your ear pressed against his heartbeat. His fingers have been trailing up your spine and into your hair and back down again. It’s soothing and it also gives you chills—a pleasant contradiction, much like Loki himself.

“I must leave tomorrow,” he says suddenly. “I have business on Midgard.”

“Oh,” you say. You’re not really sure how to feel about that. You’re not really sure whether you’re supposed to feel anything about that. Probably not. “How long do you expect to be away?”

He sighs. “Two months, at least. Likely more.”

“Long enough to cause trouble, I imagine,” you say lightly. There is an unexpected lump in your throat, but you’re doing your best to ignore it. There’s no reason there should be a lump in your throat; therefore it does not exist. You repeat this to yourself confidently, like saying it more than once will make it true.

“Well, naturally.” He rolls over, pulling you with him so that you are on your back and pinned beneath him. “I am the god of mischief, after all.”

“I suppose you are.” You recognize that look in his eyes. “And what mischief are you planning now, your highness?”

He hums and presses a kiss against your collarbone. “The usual sort.” He is growing hard against your belly. “I must have you at least once more before I depart on my journey.”

Despite all your complicated and confusing feelings, your body is warming to his touch, that all too familiar aching need stirring in your hips. “Only once?” you say as you open your legs to him.

“I said at least once. Try to pay attention, darling.”

In the end, he has you twice more, though the last one is quicker than you’d like, motivated by the lateness of the hour. He helps you dress and delays you once more at the door with a long and lingering kiss that you will find yourself returning to many times over the next several weeks.

“I really must go,” you murmur against his lips. “I’ll be missed if I’m away much longer.”

“Surely another minute won’t hurt,” he says, lowering his head to nuzzle the place where your neck and shoulder meet.

“I’m afraid you underestimate the power of very nosy kitchen maids.”

“Well, we can’t have that. I shall speak to Fritjof about the staffing.”

You know he’s joking, but there’s still a flicker of fear that runs through you at the sound of Fritjof’s name. “You wouldn’t,” you say, forcing your voice to sound light and unbothered.

He laughs quietly. “You’re right. I avoid speaking to that old bat whenever I can.”

You are used to hiding your true feelings about Fritjof. “He’s particular,” you say.

“He’s abhorrent,” says Loki. “If I were king, he would be the first I’d release from service.”

You can’t help but feel a little relieved by this statement. Sometimes it’s easy to feel like Fritjof’s unpleasantness is all in your head, or even just an overreaction.

You can’t say any of this, though, so you keep your expression neutral and polite. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“I’m sure you do,” he says, a hint of a laugh evident in his voice. “You’re simply accustomed to being well-mannered about it.”

“I certainly wouldn’t say so if I was.”

He laughs quietly and runs a fingertip along your cheek. “I suppose not.”

There’s a beat of silence and the lateness of the hour strikes you once again. “I really must go,” you say.

“I know.” He looks at you carefully before leaning in to kiss you. It’s soft and gentle, almost tender in a way that makes you want to indulge in silly daydreams.

But the kiss ends, though his hand remains cupped against your cheek as he rests his forehead against yours. “I’ll send for you when I return,” he says.

You want to believe him, but there’s a part of you that’s afraid that this might be the end of your extraordinary little dalliance. Surely his attention will wander elsewhere once he returns. You hastily dismiss the thought and force what you hope is a believable smile.

“Safe travels, highness.”

You’re surprised by how immediately you feel Loki’s absence. 

It’s not just the sex, though you certainly miss that. You miss his company, his dry and sarcastic remarks, the way that his eyes light up when you say something sharp or clever. His smile, his quiet huff of laughter against your shoulder, the way his long fingers curl around yours. The way he listens, the way his brow furrows when he’s deep in thought.

You try very hard not to think about what any of that might mean.

You resume your clandestine trips to the library, but you find it’s hard not to think of Loki in a space that you associate so closely with him: here is a book that you know he likes, there is the chair he prefers. The memory of his kiss burns on your lips, the ghost of his touch seared into your skin like a tattoo.

Deep down, you know what this means, though you won’t admit it just yet. Not even to yourself.

The first few days are difficult, but after a few stumbling missteps, you slowly find your way back into the rhythm you found back before Loki upended your days.

You’re soon reminded, though, that these forbidden trips are not without their risks.

It’s only blind luck that saves you. You are coming back from the library, cutting across the dining hall to save time when you notice the lace on your boot has come undone. You bend down to tie it and it’s only then in the sudden silence that you hear footsteps approaching.

You draw back quickly into the shadows, pressing yourself flat against one of the large stone columns. From this vantage point, you can just see the doorway at the far end of the room.

A figure appears and your heart nearly flies out of your chest.

There in the flickering torchlight is Fritjof. 

You hold your breath as he crosses the room. It might be your imagination, but you would swear he looks more sinister in this light, with his beady eyes and the torchlight casting gloomy shadows across his face.

He’s a little past your column when he pauses, the sharp flare of his nostrils the only sign of life in his eerily still frame. Your heart is pounding so hard that you worry it might somehow give you away, impossible as it seems. He doesn’t know about the library, you tell yourself, willing it to be true. He doesn’t know I’m here.

His gaze sweeps over the room, his eyes squinting against the torchlight. The permanent line between his eyebrows deepens, almost as if he knows something is not quite right.

But finally, after a long moment, he seems to think better of it and continues on his way, footsteps echoing ominously in the large room.

You only let out your held breath when he leaves. You wait until his footsteps fade and then you make yourself count to one hundred before you tiptoe your way back to your room, your heart pounding the whole way.

If you were sensible, you would give up going to the library. You know that.

But with Loki gone, it’s the only thing you have to look forward to, and for that reason, you can’t quite convince yourself to give it up, though you do start taking a different route back.

And agonizingly slowly, those first four weeks pass.

On the first night of the fifth week, it occurs to you that you’re a little over halfway through. Assuming, of course, that it’s only two months and not longer like he thought it could be.

Assuming, of course, that he still wants you when he returns.

You decide that you’re not going to think about either possibility or the little blip of melancholy that creates strange tightness in your chest. It’s nothing. Nothing at all.

On the third night of the fifth week, you hear footsteps in the stacks.

It must be Fritjof.

You try not to panic as you set the book carefully on the shelf, listening intently. There was always part of you that knew that this was too risky to continue, that being discovered was always the inevitable conclusion. He’d nearly caught you once already, why didn’t you think this time would be different?

A voice comes from behind you. “And what business does a kitchen maid have in the palace library?”

There’s about a half second of terror before you realize that the voice is not Fritjof’s. 

It’s Loki’s.

Before you can turn around, strong arms are wrapping around your waist from behind, a broad chest pressing against your back. You relax almost instantly, your fear turning to something that you will later recognize as joy.

“You’re shaking,” he says, pressing a kiss against your neck.

“You frightened me half to death,” you say, your heart beating wildly, half from joy and half from fear. “I thought you were Fritjof.”

“Such grievous attacks on my character already?” he tuts against your neck, though you can feel him smiling. “Any sensible man would be offended by such a comparison.”

“He nearly caught me last week. And you’re much earlier than you said—I didn’t think to expect you.”

He presses a soft kiss against your neck. “Are you disappointed?”

“That depends on how churlish you intend to be,” you say.

He laughs and it only makes you ache for him. He turns you around and before you can get a proper look at him, he’s pulling you flush against him and kissing you deeply.

The restless, yearning ache that you’ve felt in your soul since he left finally stills when his lips touch yours. Kissing Loki feels like coming home—it feels so perfect, so right that it would scare you a little bit if there were room in your heart for any feeling other than joy.

It’s a minute or so later when he finally draws back just a little—only enough to speak. “Did you miss me?” he breathes against your lips.

Happy as you are, your first instinct is to deflect. You can’t be vulnerable. Not yet. “I would ask the same of you,” you say.

Instead of answering you directly, he presses his hips against yours so you can feel the hard length of him already straining at the confines of his trousers. You suck in a breath through your teeth.

“Now give me a proper answer,” he says, his voice dipping into a slight growl that awakens that familiar, aching heat low in your hips.

A shiver snakes up your spine. “Yes,” you say. “Very much.”

His eyes flash and suddenly he’s pressing you back against the shelf and kissing you deeply. Desperately. You arch against him as his hands palm your breasts before dropping to your hips to pull you closer still, close enough that you can’t help but feel the hard press of his cock against you.

He pulls away abruptly, grabbing you by the wrist and leading you deeper into the stacks.

“Where are we going?” There’s a breathy quality to your voice that you hope doesn’t reveal too much.

“You’ll see.”

His destination is a dark, secluded corner near a collection of atlases. Before you can ask more questions, he’s pressing you up against a wall and you realize with a thrill that he intends to have you right here in the library.

“We could be seen,” you say as he hitches up your skirts and hooks your leg up around his waist. But your voice lacks conviction and you can both hear it.

“It’s late and no one ever comes back here.” His hand slips between your thighs, pushing your undergarments aside. “And I need you now.”

It’s a thrilling admission made all the more compelling by his long fingers stroking your slick folds and circling your clit.

“Oh, you did miss me,” he breathes as he slides a finger inside of you. “My poor little kitchen maid, so slick and unsatisfied.”

You are aching and a whimper catches in the back of your throat as he presses the heel of his hand against your clit. You grab his shoulders as a second finger joins the first. “Please, I need—”

“What do you need?” he purrs as he curls his fingers. “Do you need to come before I fuck you into this wall?”

You nod, panting. “Please.”

He chuckles darkly. “Darling, you know that’s not good enough.”

Your clit is throbbing as you tense around his fingers. You’re so close and his time away has left you needy and desperate. “Make me come, Loki. Please.”

His grin is wicked. “Good girl.”

His eyes take on a particular kind of focus that you only ever see when he’s got you hot and bothered and chasing an orgasm. His fingers are fucking into you with a slow precision, the heel of his palm grinding against your throbbing clit, nudging you closer.

“You’re so close,” he says, looking at you hungrily. “I love it when you’re like this, all wild and wanton.” He licks his lips. “You’re going to have to be quiet, though. Can you do that, darling?”

You manage a nod, but barely. The leg that’s not hooked around his waist is trembling.

“I’ve got you, sweet,” he murmurs, his arm firmly squeezing your waist. “Let go. Come for me.”

Your breath is coming in quick, shallow bursts. The instruction to be quiet seemed doable at first, but the feeling that’s cresting inside of you is so much bigger and stronger than you thought. You’re not going to be able to keep quiet.

“Loki,” you gasp in the last few seconds. “I can’t—”

Somehow, he understands your meaning because he covers your mouth with his, muffling your cries as you come hard, your fingernails digging into his back as you shake so hard your leg threatens to give out.

He doesn’t stop kissing you until the last shudder pulses through you.

“Oh, that’s lovely,” he says reverently. “Just lovely.”

“Please—”

You don’t have to say any more. He fumbles with the fastenings on his trousers and frees his cock. There’s no teasing, no delay as he positions himself at your entrance—he wants you too badly to play his usual games, his desire heightened by your weeks apart. He slides into you easily, lifting you fully off the floor as he sheathes himself in you. You whimper and he sighs, mumbling a string of curses under his breath.

“Norns, I missed this,” he murmurs, leaning back in to kiss you.

If you’d planned things properly, you would be back in his room or somewhere private where you could be as loud as you needed to be. This reunion has awoken something primal and hungry in both of you and staying quiet is a struggle. His hips take up a quick pace, driving into you with a speed and force that speaks to the profound need that had brought you to the corner of the library in the first place. He quickly finds the angle that makes you see stars and soon enough, you’re trembling around him.

“You take my cock so well, darling,” he mumbles against your throat, teeth scraping against the tender skin. “So good for me, so tight.”

“I’m so close—”

“I know, lovely, I can feel you.” He presses his forehead against yours, emerald eyes intent. “Come with me,” he grits out.

You keep your eyes locked with his until the force of your orgasm tips your head back against the wall, your eyes fluttering shut as you clench around his cock. He is close behind, gasping out your name as he buries his face in your neck.

It’s a good minute or so before he withdraws, and he seems reluctant to do so. There is something decadent and scandalous about his spend dripping down the inside of your thigh, but you decide you rather like the feeling. It makes you feel like his in a very raw and primal way.

You try not to think about the fact that you have any desire to be his.

He takes your hands in his and a green light spreads over the two of you. When it dissipates, you find yourself in his chambers, in front of his bed.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” you ask.

“It requires some concentration and my mind was singularly occupied,” he says. “I can’t imagine that you would have been very pleased had we arrived in separate places.”

He is right, but you don't want to say as much.

“I’d thought that your skill with magic was too great for such silly mistakes,” you say instead.

“I see my absence has not blunted your tongue.”

You smirk. “I hope you didn’t expect it to. I could not bear for you to be disappointed.”

He chuckles. “Not at all.”

He kisses you again and it’s slow and intimate in a way you don’t expect, in a way that warms you from the inside out.

“I’ve quite forgotten what you look like in my bed,” he murmurs against your lips.

“I suppose I could remind you,” you say.

He kisses you once more. “Turn around.”

He undoes the buttons on the back of your dress with achingly slow precision, pressing soft kisses against the back of your neck and all along your shoulders and spine. Your dress and then your shift and undergarments fall to the floor until you are bare before him.

His fingertips lightly trail along your rib cage and under the curve of your breasts. You suck in a shaky breath. You’ve just had him, but you’re already aching for him again.

His thumbs brush against your nipples and a soft moan falls from your lips.

“You can’t possibly need me again so soon,” he says, but you can tell from the rasp in his voice that this is not one-sided in the slightest. “You’re still dripping with my seed.”

You arch your back so that your ass presses against the growing bulge in his trousers. “You speak as though I am the only one with such a need.”

He hums, pressing back against you. “Perhaps you’re not.”

You look over your shoulder. “Well, your highness?”

He laughs low in his throat, one hand sliding between your legs, gently circling your still sensitive clit. “And here I thought you would be too sated for such boldness.”

“Perhaps you’ll have to try harder this time.”

You’re immediately gratified by the feeling of his bare skin at your back and you barely suppress a shiver. Typically if he resorts to magic to remove his clothes, it ends quite enjoyably for you.

“Perhaps I’ll fuck the boldness right out of you,” he says, his voice growing dark in a way that makes the muscles of your cunt ache in anticipation. You bend at the waist, bracing your hands against the edge of the bed to support yourself as he drags his cock along your dripping folds. “You speak sharply now, but we both know that you turn into a whimpering mess the moment you have my cock in your tight and greedy cunt.”

Quite suddenly, he’s at your entrance and pressing into you, his passage eased by the heady combination of your slickness and his come from earlier. Your back arches and you push up on your tiptoes, trying to take him deeper.

You can’t quite help the sigh that escapes your lips, even though it causes him to chuckle because it proves his point. His fingers massage your clit and you shudder, letting out a soft moan.

“Oh, you’ll have to do better than that, darling,” he says. “It’s been weeks since I last heard you scream for me.”

You cast a glance over your shoulder. “Like I said, highness: you’ll just have to try harder.”

His eyes darken in a way that makes you shiver. “You’ve grown bolder in my absence, love.”

You smirk. “Then teach me a lesson.”

Your intention is to goad him into fucking you hard enough to make the ache of these last few weeks disappear. His wide, feral grin makes you think you might have succeeded.

“Well, darling,” he purrs, his hips snapping hard against you in a way that makes your toes curl, “if you insist.”

He slips easily into a brisk pace, his fingers rubbing languorously at your clit. The contrast between the two is enough to make you moan in a way that’s so so wanton it’s almost embarrassing. 

“Yes, I want to hear all of your lovely noises,” he purrs. “Let me hear how much you missed me.”

His slow pace on your clit is still at odds with the way he’s fucking you and it’s driving you absolutely wild. You’re only getting the added stimulation on every other thrust and while it feels good, it’s not helping you get any closer to coming.

You tolerate it for as long as you can stand, but eventually you can’t help but moan. “Please, Loki.”

“Please what, my love?” he asks and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“More.”

He knows your body well enough at this point that he doesn’t have to ask what you mean—he simply begins massaging your clit in time with the thrust of his cock, making you keen.

“Like that?”

You can only moan in assent and he lets out a low chuckle as he continues with his new pace.

This is what you really needed, you think. His large hand firm on your hips, fingers on your clit, his movements just a little rough, his skin slapping against yours as he drives into you with hard and steady thrusts. You can feel the edge starting to approach, all of your muscles tingling and tensing in anticipation of your release. 

He knows your body well—too well, perhaps—and he recognizes how your muscles tighten and twitch around his cock right before you come undone.

And he stops, withdrawing from you completely. “Not yet,” he says.

The whine you let out is perhaps the most pathetic noise you’ve ever made in your life. “Loki, please.”

He turns you around, silencing your protests with a slow, deep kiss. “I need you closer,” he mumbles against your lips.

You let him guide you down onto the bed. While you like it when he takes you from behind, there’s an intimacy to having him on top of you. You can catalog his expressions, count the flecks of gold in his green eyes. You feel simultaneously as though you are perched on a cliff of great height and peering down, but also warm and safe.

It’s a feeling that you probably ought to interrogate; instead you push it from your mind.

He kisses you as he eases back into you and you wrap your legs around his waist, urging him closer.

He’s slow and gentle with you. You thought you wanted fast and rough, but this…this is an unexpected perfection. You can feel every inch of him stretching and stroking the velvety inner walls of your cunt and every movement is somehow better than the last.

The buildup is slow and unhurried, the opposite of the library, the opposite of how he’d been driving into you mere moments before. He looks deep into your eyes, interrupted only when your lashes or his flutter shut against the rising tides within you both. It’s stirring something in your heart and you find yourself wanting to tell him that you missed this, you missed him, but the words stick in your throat and you suppose that’s probably for the best because these sort of things shouldn’t be spoken aloud when you are a servant who is bedding a prince in secret.

You shouldn’t be thinking about this. Not now. Probably not ever. Instead, you draw your focus to the coil that is slowly winding in the pit of your stomach and roll your hips up to meet his slow thrusts. You pull him down to kiss you, hoping that his focus on taking you to your peak eclipses the fact that there’s far too much feeling in your kiss.

And moments later, your toes curl one last time and you cry out as you completely unravel. He groans deeply and gives two more sharp thrusts before he succumbs to his own bliss.

He gradually slows to a halt, dropping his head to your chest as he catches his breath. You close your eyes, relishing the feel of him on top of you, still pressed inside you, the feel of his sheets on your back. You missed this. You missed him. You—

You shouldn’t continue that thought. You shouldn’t admit to that feeling, even to yourself. It’s stupid. It’s dangerous.

Don’t say it. Don’t think it.

Loki gives a satisfied sigh, breaking you out of your thoughts. “The next time I say I need to be away for weeks at a time, tell me I’m a fool,” he mumbles.

“I’ll tell you you’re a fool regardless of your travel plans,” you say.

His laughter rumbling against your bare skin might be one of the best sounds in the world. “I would expect no less.”

He eases out of you, vanishing the mess and quickly pulling you to his side. You rest your head against his shoulder and wrap your arms around his chest, draping your leg across his stomach for good measure.

“Did it go well?” you say after a moment of quiet. “Your business on Midgard, I mean.”

He sighs. “It was tedious. I’d rather have stayed here.”

You wonder if he means here on Asgard or here in bed with you. You’re not foolish enough to ask, though you are foolish enough to hope.

“I think it sounds exciting,” you say. “I’ve never left Asgard.”

“I’ll take you, someday.”

The promise in those words—and their sheer impossibility—raises a lump in your throat. “I rather think that would be frowned upon,” you say lightly.

“All the more reason for it.” He strokes a hand along your thigh. “And how did you occupy yourself without my stimulating company?”

“Oh, nothing terribly exciting,” you say. “I started reading in the library again.”

“I suppose I have been monopolizing your evenings,” he says, fingers tickling your thigh. “Though I don’t understand why you don’t simply take a book to your quarters.”

You swat at his hand. “You know that’s not permitted.”

He catches your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “Neither is this, technically.”

“Yes, well.” You clear your throat. “I’d rather not give anyone more reasons to look more closely at my evening activities for that reason.”

“Am I to understand that you prefer my bed to the finest Asgardian literature?”

“That may be your understanding, but that’s not what I said.”

“Well.” He presses a kiss against the top of your head. “I suppose I’ll have to make my bed more tempting, then.”

It’s the sort of offhand comment you write off as a silly flirtation—he doesn’t mean anything by it, surely. It’s entirely forgettable.

Except…the next night, there’s a stack of books for you beside his bed.

“What’s this?” you say, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.

“I told you I intended to make my bed more tempting,” he says.

His eyes are glittering with mischief, but the gesture itself is achingly sweet, one that plucks at your heartstrings and reminds you of all the feelings that you’re pretending you’re not having. He had retrieved the book you’d been reading last night, along with titles by authors you mentioned liking back in the garden so many weeks ago. 

That night, he makes you read aloud from a book of love poems while he buries his face between your thighs, his tongue moving in iambs and dactyls on your clit until you come with poetry and his name on your lips. In the afterglow, you curl up next to him and read while he does the same, until you need each other again. It’s a new part of your routine, one that you’ll repeat many times in the coming days.

It’s there in the hazy paradise between prose and the bliss of his touch that a small, secret voice inside of you begins to admit that as much as you say it’s a harmless bit of fun, the situation has spiraled out of control in the worst possible way:

You’ve fallen in love with him. And you know it’s only a matter of time before he breaks your heart.

Next chapter coming soon

[wolfjackle-creates]

Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 3

The second of the posts compiling all my snippets from the ask game. I'll try and get another out later today, but it might be tomorrow for the rest.

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3, Tumblr

Chapter 2: First, Previous

Word Count: 1.3k

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“Five months ago, he disappeared. I’d already started college, so I wasn’t home. But Sam and Tucker reached out and the three of us began searching. It… It took three weeks to find him. And another week to get him out. In that time… What we found… It wasn’t pretty. The guys in white—” Jazz cut herself off. That day would forever be branded into her memory and featured in far too many nightmares.

Todd made an encouraging noise, but didn’t interrupt.

Jazz took a steadying breath and forced herself to continue. “It wasn’t easy breaking in. And even harder breaking out. Danny was hurt and the agents were chasing us. We had on masks, but they knew who we were. We managed to cause some chaos, though. Released all the ghosts they had prisoner to mess up their scanners. Send them running in every direction.

“It was almost enough. We all got out of the building. But they’d figured out our path and were waiting for us. Sam, Tucker, and I managed to hold them back. Sending Danny ahead alone with the go bag we’d prepared him. He was supposed to either get back to Amity and cross the portal into the Infinite Realms or run north to meet up with the other Dani.”

“But he didn’t make it,” said Todd. A statement rather than a question.

“We don’t know. He never made it to Dani. And due to the breakout, the guys in white placed the town on high alert. There’s checks for everyone entering or leaving the town. If you’re suspected of pro-ghost sentiment, you’ll be brought in for questioning. Ghost shields are everywhere. Sam’s parents withdrew her from school because they didn’t trust her to follow the new rules.” She gave a watery laugh. “They were probably right. Then Tucker was offered a scholarship for a tech school in California. I was escorted back to Boston. Only time I went back was for his funeral.”

Todd nodded. “And they’re in your phones and computers so you can’t talk to each other.”

Jazz smiled wryly. “Yep. Tucker could’ve, probably has, developed something. A messaging program or whatever. But without being able to meet up with us to download it to our devices—” she shrugged “—we’ve no way to get it.”

“Okay, so we’ll start there. Restoring contact should be fairly easy if you all want it—”

“We do!”

“But I’m also worried about your safety. What will happen to you after you ditched your guard today?”

Jazz shrugged. “They’ll bring me in for questioning. Probably make me miss a quiz or something important for school to make it extra inconvenient.”

“What will the questioning entail?”

Jazz bit her lip and shrugged. “Before? Sitting me in an uncomfortable metal chair in an interrogation room like you might see on TV and keeping me there for… oh, up to twenty-four hours? Whenever my parents would find out and barge in yelling at them about how ‘No Fenton would support a ghost!’ or whatever. Now? I don’t know.”

“Do you think they’ll hurt you?” asked Todd. He was frowning. “After your brother, it sounds like they are capable of it.”

Jazz held out her hands. “Depends on if they know I’m liminal or not. I’m not as bad as you are. And especially no where near Danny’s level. I don’t think they’ve been able to detect it yet. But if they have their instruments that close and me captive for that long? I… I don’t know.”

Todd nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of. Look, they don’t know where we are right now and don’t have the means to find us at the moment. I can get you out of here. To a safe house in Gotham or Metropolis or, hell, anywhere you want. And we can reach out to Red Robin, see how things are going with your friend Tucker. Maybe extract him as well.”

Jazz’s mouth fell open. They could… get away? For good? To a Justice League level safe house? She burst into tears.

She might be able to see her friends again soon.

Todd moved so he was sitting next to her. Hesitantly, he put a hand on her shoulder. “So I take it you want to do that?”

Jazz nodded, then shook her head. “I don’t—I don’t know.”

“What don’t you know?”

Jazz sniffed. “I just—It’ll make it easier to find Danny. If we’re together. If we have to go somewhere.” She shook her head. “God, I’m going to sound like such a bitch. I love Danny. If it’s what we have to do to get him back, yes. Absolutely. But… It’s just… My degree. If I disappear halfway through the year for who-knows-how-long? I’ve been working to get into Harvard since I was ten years old. Since long before Danny had his accident.” She scrubbed at her eyes. “God, I’m such a bitch. My brother needs me. And if I go back, I’ll probably be detained long enough it’ll impact my grades anyway. And that’s if the Guys in White don’t just lock me up indefinitely.”

“You’re not a bitch,” said Todd, voice filled with some emotion she couldn’t put a name to. “Like you said, this has been your dream for practically half your life. But I think we can help you with that.”

She looked up at him in surprise. “How?”

Todd grinned. “I doubt your school would be able to complain or hold it against you if I had Kori—Starfire—tell them that you were needed for an urgent Titans mission. That you helped save the lives of countless people. Way I see it, they’d have to forgive your abandoned classes and allow you to retake them.” He hummed and looked up. “In fact, I’m pretty sure we could find a Justice League fund to pay for at least one semester of classes for you. Probably more. To make up for the money lost on this one.”

Jazz’s mouth fell open. “You’d do that? For me?”

“And your brother and sister and friends. It’s kinda what we do.”

Jazz nodded. “Yes, please. If you can do that, I’ll go with zero hesitation. I’d have given it all up for Danny, of course. But we’d both… not regret it. But he’d feel guilty he forced me to give up my degree and I’d always be a little resentful I had to. Not towards him, never towards him, but the Guys in White and Vlad and my parents.”

“Great. I’m going to call Arsenal and Starfire. I need one of them to get my car anyway. Left it parked back near our meeting place and I don’t think we should be going back anywhere near there if we can avoid it.”

“Then what?”

“Then I’ll reach out to Red Robin, see what happened when he went to meet up with your friend Tucker out in San Francisco. See if they’re up for an extraction as well. If I gave you a phone, would you be able to reach out to Dani-with-an-I?” He grimaced. “Do you have any other way to differentiate them?”

Jazz chuckled wetly. “Nope. Dani-with-an-I refuses to change her name. Says it’s her name and she’s not going to change it just because someone else had it first. And Danny-with-a-y hates going by Daniel or Dan. When they’re together, they drive us crazy with it.”

Todd grumbled something under his breath. “Fine, whatever. Just, do you have a way to contact her?”

Jazz nodded. “We’ve been too scared to, but if you can get me something with an internet connection, I can contact her and have her meet us somewhere.”

“Easy. I’ll have Arsenal bring us something that you can have to yourself rather than relying on borrowing our phones or computers.”

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do this, but thanks.”

Todd shrugged and stood. “I wasn’t going to just ignore you after seeing those messages. Now, try and get some sleep. It’ll be a few hours before my friends can get here.”

-----

And that brings us to the end of Chapter 2!

Hope you enjoy. We've got the beginnings of a plan set up.

Check out the subscription post if you want notifications when I update!

[takecareluv]

hi hi, can you do something with vin where he’s just have a bad few days and he wakes up on day and is just clingy and soft spoken with reader all day, and reader is like ???? you’re kind of annoying me but more so freaking me out wtf is wrong with you???? and just something that ends super fluffy. i feel like i always see the guy take care of the reader when they’re sad or stressed but never the other way around and i think it could be cute

cuddle day || vinnie hacker x reader

vinnie had been having a rough few days. first, he was getting over a bad head cold that kept him from attending not one, but two events he had been looking forward to for several months. and now he just received word that something had gone wrong in the production of his upcoming collection for purgatory, and the release would have to be pushed back another six weeks.

to say vinnie wasn't in the best mood would be an understatement. 

but one thing he would never do is take that out on you. in fact, you were his saving grace during times like these.

it was common knowledge that you and vinnie were an extremely affectionate couple, it was just how you showed your love for each other; but when one of you was feeling down or unwell, that affection grew to a whole other level. some saw it to be a little too clingy, but neither of you minded. all it meant was some extra cuddles and taking care of the love of your life, and how could you say no to that?

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏˚♡˚﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

 you had woken up a little earlier than usual on this particular morning, wanting to get a head start on the long list of things you had been putting off and desperately needed to get done. 

you expected to have an extremely productive day, that is until you felt vinnie’s strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close to his body so you were trapped by his warmth, unable to get out bed and begin getting ready for the day like you originally intended. “stay, please.” he mumbled into his pillow, not even bothering to open his eyes, probably still half asleep. and how could you say no to your adorable boyfriend and his raspy morning voice a total weakness of yours when he was begging you to stay and cuddle. 

your to-do list could wait. 

you leaned into his touch, wrapping yourself back under the covers, although you didn’t much need it from the way vinnie was like a human radiator, keeping you warm and cozy almost always.

“you okay, bub?” you hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before nuzzling your head into his neck.

“just need you today. stay with me please,” he faintly whispered.

“of course, baby. i’m not going anywhere, promise.” you cooed, your hands instinctively running through his curls knowing that always soothed him. “you wanna talk about it?” you asked gently, not wanting to press him.

he shook his head in response, “just want to cuddle.”

“okay, love. we can cuddle all day if that’s what you want. i’m here.” you felt his body further relax at your words. you realized he probably just needed a distraction from all the craziness going on from the last week, or more so last year, of his life.

you grabbed your phone from the bedside table, placing an order at one of vinnie’s favorite breakfast spots, getting his usual burrito and yourself a bagel. once the order was confirmed, you turned your phone to silent, wanting to devote all your attention to your sweet boy today.

knowing your boyfriend like the back of your hand, you knew exactly what he needed on a day like this.

cuddles, check.

his favorite foods, check. you even made a mental note to make a batch of your famous homemade chocolate chip cookies he adored so much, that is when he lets you out of his hold.

next thing he needed was an anime to watch; that was something that never failed to comfort him on his worst days. especially ones he particularly loved as a child. you quickly flipped on the tv, opening up netflix, and searching for his current favorite show. that’ll surely keep his mind distracted, you thought to yourself. 

and the last thing he always needed on a day like this: family.

there was no doubt about it that vinnie was in fact a momma’s boy, and with that being said, you made sure to send a short message to maria letting her know how vin was feeling and that he might need a call from his beloved mother later that day.

she was quick to respond with a simple praise, thanking you for letting her know and always being so caring towards her eldest son. i’m so happy he has found someone who loves him as much as i do. thank you for being there for him when i can’t. 

you smiled after reading the text, sending her a few hearts before turning your attention back to the ever so clingy boy next to you. “i love you so much, vin. i’ll always be here for you.” 

you watched as he titled his head up to face yours, a small smile spread across his lips. “i love you too. thank you for everything.” he quietly responded, placing a soft kiss on the top of your shoulder before cuddling closer to you. neither of you moving for the remainder of the day. 

[toulousewayne]

Beyond the Bat: Pt I 🦇

So I read a story a couple of months ago. It was about Terry McGinnis searching for and bringing all that Batboys (Ex:Dick,Jason,Tim, and Damian) back to the manor as an aging Bruce Wayne begins to die. I liked the story and premise of it. It made be think of stuff I wrote a long time ago and maybe I could write something similar but different. Especially with a reader instead of Terry. So let me know what you think. ;)

Batfamily x batsis!reader

Synopsis: Three years since Bruce’s disappearance, and with all of Batman’s former Robins gone, Gotham is under protection of the Batwoman, but she will need help to take on one of Gotham biggest Civil Wars ever.

—————

A seasoned and experienced Vickie Vale comes on the screen of a television. “It’s been three years since the mysterious disappearance of Billionaire-Philanthropist Bruce Wayne, Wayne was on a flight to Shanghai for a business trip when the flight was thrown off course. Still to this day the flight, crew or Mr. Wayne have been seen. Wayne Enterprise Chairman Lucius Fox released a statement.”

—

“Today marks three years since Mr. Wayne disappearance. I-I was originally supposed to born the plane but Bruce…he felt that he needed to go instead.” He swallows,” After consulting with authorities and with permission from the Wayne Estate I come before you to declare Bruce Wayne as dead. Normally this is something done after seven years,but the family has asked for this closure. We respect their wishes. No further common.” He leaves as several reports and journals ask question after question.

——

Vickie returns, “This was from the press conference earlier today. A private memorial service will be held for Wayne early next week. We from the GCN family as well as Gotham Thank you for your contribution Mr.Wayne and may you find peace wherever you are. I’m Vickie Vale and have a good night.”

————

Gotham City was a sea of old rotten gothic buildings and shiny overgrown skyscrapers. Gotham had been the early stages of becoming more a city of tomorrow. Though the plans had fallen without Bruce. Most of north Gotham was now being rebuilt and renovated, the lights of the older city still shinned just a light more dim due to the new LED light that consumed the night.

Sirens filled the night and busy traffic and honking on every corner. Three squad cars fly down the road chasing after two armed trucks.

Gunfire rings the night and civilian duck away from the street.

“Pull over! This is GCPD!” The cars race onto the bridge and barrel pass cars causing some minor accidents in its wake.

“Lenny,should we stop?” A rookie driver swerves from running into a gas truck. The goon beside him pulls off his skii mask and takes an assault rifle.

“And risk getting thrown into a cell, I’d rather die than let the boss know we got caught, keep drivin.”

Lenny takes the gun and starts firing towards the squad cars. Taking out of the tires causing it to crash into a three car accident.

“Pigs, still too slow for Rupert Throne men.” The car speeds up and then faint sound a ringing as the goons look at each other.

“Did you hear that?” The car jerks as they’re rammed into. “The fuck?”

The turn to see the Batmobile flying towards them.

“It’s the fucking Bat!” The driver floors the gas and takes the exit into East Gotham. The take a sharp turn and rush down the road.

The Batmobile rams into the truck again and the driver runs over a bus stop and light rail.

“Do something!” He shouts. Lenny takes the gun and fires at the car. The bullets fly off the car without a scratch.

“Shit.” The car speeds besides them and slide swipe the truck. It barrels over the Batmobile and crashes into a store front. The goons groan. Lenny takes a pistol and leans out the window.

The Batmobile is parked on the other side of the room but it’s not moving.

“Where’d he gooooooo-“ he fires the gun as he yanked from the window and the sound of punches and grunts are heard. The lanky drive makes a run for it but only get five feet before his foot his tied and he pulled across the ground and pulled up toward the truck.

“Help!!”

The figure leaps down and towers over him. It draws closure until the grab him by the shirt.

“Where’s Throne?” A gruff female voice snarls.

“Look-lady I don’t know.” He punched in the stomach.

“I won’t ask twice.” She grips him tighter.

“He fled this morning, we were supposed to take this stuff to the docks and that’s it I swear.” He cries.

Batwoman grins, “That was so hard was it.” And she punches him in the face knocking him out cold.

Squad cars and a transport truck arrive seconds later. Another black Police van arrives and Commissioner Barbara Gordon wheels her way to the scene.

“Another one of Throne men?” The older woman pushes her glass up. She huffs, “Any word on where he went?”

“He’s left this morning, knowing him he told his men one place and went in the complete opposite direction.” Batwoman holds a phone out and hands it to the Commissioner.

“You think he’d left something at his mansion, he’s not a sharp as he used to be. He’s getting sloppy with his trails.” She turns in her chair as Batwoman hoped into his car.

“I’ll find out.” The car raced down the street towards the outskirts of the city.

“Alfred.” Alfred appears on the screen. He’s more weather and more grey than normal but the older man is still able to assist anyway he can.

“I see you have stopped the stolen goods from reaching the Harbour, I take it as that will conclude your night?”

“Not likely, Rupert Throne’s men said he fled town this morning, any activity on his bank accounts, or the offshore ones?”

“You’d think a man of his age would learn to stop his shenanigans,but I digress. Three days ago $100,000 was withdrawn from his checking account. Nothing sense.”

Batwoman nods, “I’m heading to his house, Barbara thinks he’s getting sloppy and I agree.”

“Very well ma’am,I will be here if you need anything.”

——-

Batwoman drops down in front of the doors to the office and pushes it open. She swiftly moves inside and feels the air is stiff.

She scans the room and sees that it looks slightly messy. Papers scattered around the room and desk, the fire is long gone and it’s cold. The chairs at pushed to the ground and safe is wide open. She glides to it and scans it.

“His finger prints are recent. At least..three days old.” The glances into the safe to find it empty.

She worlds around the find the door toward the hallway ajar. She ventures into the dim hallway. She turns a corner and is shocked at the scene before her.

“Agent A, I’m sending live footage to the Batcomputer.”

“My word, it’s a massacre.” The hallway is full of Throne’s men dead, blood, painting the marble tiles and splattered across the walls.

“Who could have done such butchery?” Alfred asks. Batwoman check the body of one of the men.

Batwoman stands up,” judging by the smell of decomposing and state of the bodies the time of death was 72 hours ago.” She passed by the remaining bodies until she comes to two large wooden doors with blood splattered and a dagger embedded in it. She pushes it and across the room his the master bed with Rupert Throne’s body.

“That smell, he’s been here for just as long.”

“Dear Lord, and no one knew.”

She scans his body and finds a large gash in his chest.

“He was stabbed with a sword.” She scans his hand and find gun power. She finds the gun on his bed and she able to tell he used it.

She looks at the door and sees blood. She scans it and it doesn’t match the blood from the hallway or Rupert’s. She finds a blood trail the leads to the balcony. Old bloody bandages are found along with the bullet.

“Seems like whoever was there wasn’t able to do the job without getting injured. I can’t track any blood trails it been to long and the rain has washed it away.”

“I’ve already notified Ms. Gordon she’s in route.

Batwoman looks toward the city across the bridge. “Something’s missing Alfred, and I’m going to find out.”

——-

The Batmobile races through the waterfall and down the platform until it stop. Batwoman climbs out and takes the lift down toward the Batcomputer where Alfred sits and the computer with a cup of tea.

“And how was the rest of the night ma’am?” She pulls off the cowl and pushes her dark locks from her face.

“There’s assassins back in the city.” She begins typing and pulls up the three other crime scenes.

The two look at each one. A victim with either a single large gash or several closely net ones are the on the screen.

“It’s not the small killer, the one that killed Throne and his men are different than these three. These victims were struggling and suffered. Throne’s was quick.”

“As quick as having a sword shoved into your chest can be I presume.” H sips his tea and stands with his cane. He moved quietly as he always did but a little more slower.

Y/n sighs, “Is he awake?”

Alfred stops at the elevator and nods. “He’s been up for sometime, I’ll prepare breakfast.”

Y/n stands up and was to the display cases. All different suits.

Starting with a few of Bruce’s old suits, then the original Robin and Batgirl suits. Finally she stops at of last suits. Bruce’s last suit was in mint condition as he left it.

She turns to the empty case and start placing her gear in it.

—-

She emerges from the office and ties her hair up waking into the kitchen.

“Mommy!” A little boy with brown hair and blue eyes smile with syrup all over his face. Y/n wipes his cheeks and smiles.

“Did you sleep well?” The five year old boy nods while eating his food.

“Finish up so I can take you to school.” She walks toward Alfred who’s making a plate for her.

“It still feels weird to leave her sometimes.” She takes the mug from him as well and sips on her coffee.

“Master Bruce wanted to be sure you were safe while he was gone. I don’t think he indeed for it to be permanent but he enjoyed the company as do I.” Y/n rolled her eyes.

“If you say so, though I will say we enjoy it with you Alfred. Even considering the circumstances.” Alfred gives her a weak smile and begins washing dishes.

“I guess most Assistants don’t get his kind of attention, or is it due to the fact I keep Bruce on his toes.”

Alfred smiles, “It had been sometime since someone annoyed him the way you did, and I think it loved having someone to color with again.” He glances at Rowan who has finished his food and brings the plate to Alfred.

“What do we say Rowan?”

“Thank you Alfie.” He sings. Alfred smiles warmly at the kid.

“You’re very welcome, now run along and get your shoes so you can go to school.” Rowan runs out the room and Y/n hums.

“These Assassins, do you think they killed Bruce?” She asks. The room is still.

“I don’t know, but I must say I wouldn’t be surprised. I’ll contact Ms. Gordon and see if she has any information.”

Y/n places her mug down and walks to the foyer where Rowan has his shoes on with his backpack.

She slides into her sneakers and grabs her keys. “Let’s go kid.”

———-

After dropping off Rowan Y/n pushed through the doors of Wayne Enterprises. Some of the staff waved at her while some held other emotions.

She walked past the front desk and into the elevator towards the top floor. She is met the receptionist Sara who doesn’t look up from her computer.

“Good Morning, do you have an appointment with Mr. Fox?”

“Really Sara.” The ginger grins and looks toward the woman.

“How are you hun?”

“I’m good, about as good as anyone.” The double doors open and Lucius waves her inside.

“I’ll talk with you later.” Y/n walked into the large office where Lucius turned to an old chest table and unlocked hidden elevator. They take it down in the underground bunker.

“So what have you crafted this time?” She grins with her arms crossed over her chest eyeing the new prototypes.

He nods takes a blue batarang, he throws it and it instantly electrifies the dummy.

“Fancy.”

Lucius picks up a device and hands it over to Y/n. “This was something Bruce wanted crafted, I’m still getting it fine tuned but it’s useable. Alfred filled me on our new decline of population use it and it will instantly capture and give a small concentrated burst of energy to those wrapped in it. Should help should you get out numbered by assassins.”

“How thoughtful, I appreciate it. Though I’m sure you giving me new tech isn’t the only reason you wanted to see me so soon. What’s going on?”

He takes a seat and sighs. “Bruce’s memorial is next week. They’re gonna be some changes with stuff around here. Now I’m not leaving per se but with him…gone. My attention will need to be focused more on the business side for a while. I’ve asked Luke to come home he’ll be helping craft some more stuff for you while I’m busy.”

She nods. “I understand, I appreciate you still being able to help.”

He gets to his feet slowly, “My kids now I’d never leave this unless I died. But with his services coming there are something’s that will change for you too I’m sure.”

“I asked what will happen to the manor and the cave. Alfred it’s not just his decision,what does that mean?”

Lucius nods, “Bruce’s son will have to decide what will become of his estate. And they’ll all have to agree,not sure how that’ll go.”

The exit the elevator and the office returns to normal. “Let me know how the device works.” Y/n thanks him before leaving and returning to the manor.

She immediately enters the cave, where Alfred is waiting.

“Ms. Gordon is on the line for you.” Y/n sits her purse down and answers.

“What’s wrong Commissioner?”

“You’re not gonna believe this, the mayor was just killed in his office. How fast can you get down here?”

———

Batwoman emerges from the corner of the office. Barbara looks frustrated as the CSI team dust for prints, take pictures and exam the mayor’s corpse.

“When did you find him?” Batwoman strolls toward the body as a few tech move away.

“Just after lunch, his wife found him.” Batwoman scans the body. She notices the same claw marks and a golden dagger imbedded in his chest.

She takes it out and glances at it. The craftsmen was old but it was just as good as if it was made yesterday.

She returns to the Commissioner who she shows the blade to in a clear bag.

“I’ve never seen it before, can’t say it isn’t something new for use.”

“I don’t think this is a common killer this is the work of something more sinister.” Barbara nods and something catches her eye. It’s a small piece of paper with the same dagger holding it into the wall.

Batwoman takes it and unfolds the paper. She read it and turns to the Commissioner.

“I have to go.” Before Barbara can question her she’s already gone from the balcony.

——

As nightfall begins to sit in Batwoman lands on a rooftop of a hotel with the red neon lights of the building flashing.

She scans empty rooftop and comes to a stop, she dodges left as three morning stars are sent flying. She throws smoke and evades another wave of the weapons.

She backflips from a sword attack and disarms the person causing them to stumble. She begins to fight the ninja and is hit a few times.

“You are no match for me, impostor.” She spats. The ninja kicks Batwoman back and she stumbles giving the ninja time to drive a dagger into his thigh.

“You are nothing like your Predecessor. He was a lot more quicker.” She kick Batwoman who punches her in the side.

Ninja regains her balance and glares at her. “You’ll pay.” She picks up the sword and turns to the her.

“Who are you?” The ninja draws her blade at her throat.

“I am apart of the League of Assassins those who don’t want to be apart of the sorry and pathetic League it as become. Me and my faction are purists who only serve Ra Al Ghul and we will complete his mission. Neither you or this court will stop us.”

“What—court.” The ninja chuckles, “You don’t know, the Court of Owls. Your predecessor was on to them before they killed him. They will try to take Gotham back but we will defeat them, we already have the last known location of the Pits something they can’t recreate, they’ll to will bow before greatness—

Batwoman knocks the woman down and disarms her once more. The two are in a fight for the sword and Batwoman pulls the Assassin way and pulls off her mask.

The woman has a short black bob with a white strike throw her hair.

“Who,are you?” Batwoman huffs. She yells as a dagger is driven into her back.

“Mistress are you hurt?” Another assassin yanks the blade out of Batwoman.

She grins, “I am.” She gets her feet. “My name will be the last thing you hear before the poison kills you, I’m Nyssa and don’t worry about Gotham I’ll take good care of it.” And true to her wound everything went blurry and fuzzy. The last thing Y/n felt was hot then cold and everything faded to black.

————

The flashes of light, sound of being and muffled voices come in and out before slowly Y/n wakes up in the cave to the faint beeping of machines. She sits up and groans as a hand is placed on her’s.

“Barbara?” The older woman nods and squeezes her hand.

“Are you alright the poison nearly killed you?” Y/n tries to sit up but is pushed back down by Barbara.

“You need to rest, Leslie and Alfred worked on you for hours to make you stable you need to give your body time to heal.” She offers her a cup of water which Y/n takes in on gulp.

“Who got me off the rooftop?” Her voice is gruff.

“No, Alfred called in some help.” They both turned to a woman Y/n never wanted to see, at least she hoped.

“Hi kitten.”

“Hello,Selina.” Barbara wheeled out of the room and Selina drew closer taking her spot.

“Alfred called me, he was worried. I happened to be back in—“

“…I don’t care why you’re back, or what you’ve come to steal. I don’t want your help.” Selina kept a somewhat vague smile.

“I understand you hate me for leaving you-“

“My entire life was spent in and out of neighbors houses, in the system because you kept getting sent back to Blackgate. You were never there for me, you or my father you talked on and on about. I’m twenty-five and still don’t know who he is or was knowing you. So I don’t need your help. Not now and not again.” Y/n laid back down and grumbled in pain turning to look at her monitor. “You can go Selina.”

Selina nodded and exited the room. A few moments later Alfred entered and sighed.

“Ms. (L/N) You do know the extent of your injury. I needed to remind you what could have happened if Ms. Kyle wasn’t in the vicinity?”

“….”

He sighs,”Very well, while you were done Ms. Gordon and I had to find the Assassin next move. They’re going to kill everyone in their way in order to defeat one another I hate to say it but we do need the assistance.”

If looks could Alfred thought to himself. “I assume you I’m not referring to Miss Kyle, you’re going to need more than one person to help you take on two deadly threats.”

Against his advice Y/n gets to her feet and exits the medical bay and made a beeline for the computer and begins typing away until four files appear on screen.

“He didn’t talk much about them.” She mumbles to herself.

“They all had their own problems and struggles with Master Bruce. But they all knew when he needed the help, I just pray you’ll ask unlike he wouldn’t.”

“Where can I find them,most of these files are four years old and no known addresses for any of them?”

Alfred moved to the side as Barbara wheeled up to the computer and began typing away as if no time had passed.

“Dick will be easy to find, maybe not to recruit. He owns a martial art and gymnastic studio in East Bludheaven. Tim lives in New York he mostly keeps quiet with attending tech events. The others will take me time to find them, they tend to go off the grid.”

Y/n nod, “I drive out in the morning—“

“I’ll take you to Bludheaven myself, I’ve asked Ms. Gordon to look after Madter Rowan for a few nights if that’s okay will you?”

Y/n nods,” I’ll pack.”

———

Stepping onto the curb as a sharp wind bits through the air. Y/n pushes open the door into a dojo. A group of kids are doing routines.

She watches for a moment taking in the warm environment before someone walks behind her.

“Are you picking up or are you just here for the classes?” She turns to see a man in his early forties. Black hair with sliver streaks, weathered features and bright sky colored eyes.

“Barbara wasn’t wrong, you do look the same.” He rolls his eyes and moves past her.

“Adult classes are Tuesday and Thursday, sign up sheet-“

“I don’t need lessons,” she grabs his arm. “But I do need your help.”

Dick removed his arm and turns to her slowly, almost as if his gaze his scanning her from head to toe.

“So,” he leans in a lowers his voice, “Your the new Rookie.” He smirks which in turns makes Y/n scowl.

“I’ve been at this for three—“

“Try a few decades. Look I know about you you’re not the first detective and probably won’t be the last. But I’m done with capes, cowls and spandex I left that life and I left Gotham.”

He walks past the students with Y/n following him.

“Look I don’t know what your relationship with Bruce was like-“

He scoffs and sits at his desk, “Be thankful for that.”

She narrows her gaze at some photos. Some with other boys younger than him and some of him younger than that.

“I came here for help for Gotham, you know as well as I do that Bruce cared about his mission. I’m not asking you to help me for him, but for the people you care about that are still there. For the memories you still have there the good one and the bad ones.” Dick turns away from her.

“I’m sorry but you need to leave, I can’t help you.” He stands up and opens the door for her. She shakes her head and leaves.

“That was a waste of time, think the others will be much help?” She slides back into the car as it drives down the street.

“I can’t say for sure, but I’ve prepared the jet for you, Master Timothy is in New York and he��s attending a gala.” Y/n sighs in her seat.

For the love of God why are your sons so stubborn Bruce?

[sorchathered]

Sacred New Beginnings- Chapter 8

A/N- thank you guys so much for being patient with me, I know that cliffhanger shook everyone up but I promise your patience will be rewarded!

Pairing- Jake Seresin x Reader (OC Stormy)

Warnings- injuries, cursing, smut

Song inspo- “Like I’m gonna lose you” - Meghan Trainor

It had been nearly 6 weeks since your accident, ejecting over the ocean in an aircraft during a dogfight which resulted in your shoot not properly deploying, sending you spiraling towards the ocean at a speed that thankfully didn’t kill you or your pilot. The emergency team that life flighted you to Maryland had to sedate you heavily to manage your pain, so excruciating that it required what the doctor had called a medically induced coma. Broken collarbone, broken left wrist, fractured femur and a gnarly concussion that had you out for several days, waking up alive certainly not what you were expecting; the first thing that caught your eyes was the golden blonde hair and green eyes of the man you loved. Jake had been there through it all, every sleepless night, surgery, pt until you were finally released to go back to your home in Pensacola. You knew your godfather had facilitated some sort of miracle to allow Jake so much time away from his job and for that you couldn’t be more grateful, Uncle Beau couldn’t be your support team so he made sure you had everything you needed.

You were exhausted, the plane ride had been painful and as much as you’d tried to put on a brave face Jake could tell you were suffering, he got you inside and settled in bed and refused to let you do anything other than rest, you knew he had to be running on fumes but if he was he didn’t show it. You weren’t wrong, he was wrung out both emotionally and physically but if he stopped pushing forward he knew he’d break down, there had been nights when you were sedated that he worried you wouldn’t get through it and having to face life alone without you was too much for his heart to bear. Now that he had you home and safe he couldn’t imagine going back to North Island, let alone watching you get back into your jet, the thought sent a shudder through him; losing you was never something he’d imagined before all of this but now it consumed his every waking moment. It wasn’t healthy, and he was a bad liar so he knew you could tell he was fraying at the edges, your doctor had suggested that it would be beneficial for you both to do therapy together or separate and he was sure that was an option that needed to be explored. He started a load of laundry and as the clothes swirled in the washer he scrolled through his phone to find admiral Simpsons number, maybe requesting a transfer could give him the peace he needed to sleep at night.

A week goes by, pt is going well, your godfather has extended Jake’s leave once again but his request for transfer was denied (which you expected and told him at least 1,000 times you didn’t need him to move across the country to babysit you), but you could tell his nerves were shot. when you woke up most nights he wasn’t in the bed, usually in the living room reading or watching tv, sometimes on a run that would last for hours. Therapy hadn’t been easy the first session, you’d rehashed the drama of your crash and had ended it in tears, you’d been assured it would get easier but it felt like it never would, especially with the walls it felt like Jake was building around you. He treated you like glass and it was becoming more and more frustrating, he didn’t want to talk about what was going on in his head, he definitely wouldn’t sleep with you and all you’d gotten were a handful of kisses and hand holding since you’d come back to Florida. It felt like he was pushing you away and that was what you knew would push you over the edge, injuries you could heal from but losing him? That would destroy you.

Jake of course is clueless to your fears, he is just pushing through each day trying to make sure you are healthy and getting better, the thought hasn’t even occurred to him that he’s been distant, how could he be? He’s with you all the time! But when he gets back from his nearly 10 mile run the tension he hadn’t noticed is palpable, you’ve somehow showered and changed without him and when he catches your eyes from your spot on the couch he knows you are ready for a fight. He’s seen that look over a dozen times but never aimed at him, the storm is raging in your features, jaw clenched and eyes red rimmed with tears; you’ve been crying and somehow it’s his fault.

“Baby what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Why didn’t you wait for me? You shouldn’t be doing anything by yourself-“ he started but you waved your hand dismissively and continued to scowl and tear up, he didn’t know what was going on but whatever he’d done he would get on his knees and beg for forgiveness if he had to. “I’m not hurt, I managed to take my brace off to shower and put it back on by myself, that’s not the problem. The problem is us.” You said the last part in almost a whisper as you burst into tears, you’d never been much for crying when you were upset but everything had gotten so overwhelming and you couldn’t get your thoughts together, Jake surged forward to scoop you up and it didn’t matter that he was sweaty and gross you needed his touch more than you could say. You clawed at his skin and gasped out as you tried to stall your tears, pulling at his face to kiss you and he reciprocated but continued to hold you as gently as possible, afraid to jostle you too much and hurt your leg. Your eyes looked wild as he pulled you back a little to calm you down, but you kept clinging to him and trying to pull him closer, he didn’t want to stop but the fear of hurting you was prevalent so he pulled back completely and stood up, only to be met with another round of tears. “Hey hey, you gotta talk to me sugar I don’t understand what’s going on? You’re scaring me baby, just tell me what it is and I’ll fix it ok?” You looked at him and huffed like a petulant child and he almost laughed but knew it would only make it worse, something was eating you up and he didn’t have a clue where to start. “I don’t understand how you don’t get it, you’re doing it to me right now! You’re pushing me away, I’m not made of glass Jake! You’ve barely touched me since we got home, it’s like you don’t even want me anymore and I can’t stand it!” You wailed out and he had never felt more idiotic in his life. He had been so focused on your recovery that it had never even occurred to him that you would want him like that right now, but of course you did; you needed him physically just like he always had when things were hard and somehow he’d completely missed it. You were still sniffling as he ran his hand over his face and chuckled, which made you scrunch your face up angrily at him because how was this funny? He had been acting like an ass, of course he’d done everything to be your caretaker but damnit you wanted your boyfriend.

“Oh sweet thing I’m so sorry, I really have been stupid huh?” He said as he stepped back into your space and wiped your tears with his thumbs. “I didn’t realize, baby, can I fix it? Take you to bed and show you how sorry I am?” You nodded furiously and put your hands out for him to scoop you up, letting him carry you down the hall to the bedroom as you kissed his face and neck, running your hands through his sweaty hair and down his shoulders. He still treats you like your fragile, but it’s in the form of soft touches and gentle kisses placed all over your body as he removes your clothes, there’s a reverence in the way he loves you, you’d missed the intimacy of being with him so much it hurt, and now that he knew what you needed you knew he’d give you everything. He could tell you were irritated by the leg brace, couldn’t quite get close to him the way you wanted, you were terrible at hiding it with your furrowed brows and frustrated huffs as you tried to gain leverage and push up against him. He stilled you with a hand on your hips and kissed you sweetly on the forehead trying to smooth away the irritation. “You’re so stubborn, lay still and be a good girl ok baby girl I’m gonna get you there I promise, be sweet for me like I know you can.” You huffed out again but did what he asked, watching as he kissed down your torso and hitched your good leg over his shoulder, you were already so wet and gasping for him but he was going to draw this out as long as possible, you said you needed him to touch you so he would until you couldn’t take it anymore.

He was so damn lucky, and he knew it. He could’ve lost you, missed out on moments like this, watching you come undone for him as he tasted you over and over again until you were a crying mess, taking you to the precipice as you writhed and begged for him to let you cum, but he wouldn't let you just yet, white knuckling the sheets and sobbing his name, pussy leaking all over his hands and mouth as your beautiful eyes rolled back, it was heaven on earth being with you like this and he’d never take it for granted. You were positive that you’d come out of your own skin if he didn’t let you come soon, pulling at his hair and pleading him with wasn’t working, and soon you were too far gone to even do that, just letting little noises out as you rolled your head back and forth and gasped his name, and finally he pulled away from you, climbing back up your body to sloppily lick into your mouth, he was covered in you and it was sinful, you couldn’t stop bucking into him and squirming and he just chuckled as he groped your chest and kissed your neck. “Jake- I get it ok, I was being a brat just- just please please fuck me, need it oh fuck please please” you couldn’t stop babbling even as he began to glide his cock through your slick, and he slid into you with no resistance, your body so wound up that you couldn’t stop, immediately clamping down on him and succumbing to your orgasm. He growled into your neck at how good you were, continuing to fuck you through it as you gushed all over him and onto the sheets, he’d been so turned on by edging you that he was hopeless to hold back his own orgasm, thrusting into you hard a few times and spilling into you, both of you sweat slicked and sated, finally feeling like maybe you’d made it through the worst of this season of life.

You’d fallen asleep shortly after, going in and out as he cleaned you up and tucked you in, promises to come back after he started the laundry. You knew it hadn’t been long because the sun was still out but when you woke his side of the bed was still made and cold, so you hobbled down the hall until you could hear him talking to someone on the phone. “I know Mama, she’s gonna be alright but I don’t know how to leave her, I’m scared to death to let her out of my sight let alone in her jet again. Yeah, they’re sending me back next week, I’m gonna do everything I can to make things easier but- I don’t know mama I can ask if she wants the company, she’s got an extra room but I don’t want to overwhelm her, I just want to keep her safe.” You could hear the rawness in his voice, and your heart broke, you weren’t ready to be without him either but he had to go back, you’d already been given too many favors and the navy wasn’t likely to give anymore. “Jake” you called to him and he fumbled with the phone and swiped his eyes, looking up at you with the saddest smile you’d ever seen. “Tell your mama I’d love to have her here, you’re right I could use the company and we are definitely overdue for the girl time.” There it was, his thousand watt smile you fell in love with, he crossed the room to scoop you in his arms and you could see the relief on his face. You swiped the phone from his hand and laughed, “Hey Mama Leigh, how about we order you that plane ticket? We’ve got all sorts of catching up to do, and you can fill me in on all Jake’s most embarrassing stories.”

Leigh Seresin was the very picture of a southern grandma, styled blonde hair and perfect makeup, but none of the catty attitude, just warmth and kindness. When you and Jake picked her up from the airport she pulled you both up into a hug, fussing at you for not using your crutches and producing a big container of homemade chocolate chip cookies. She reminded you so much of your grandmother in so many ways, she wasn’t pushy but she wouldn’t let you lift a finger, making sure you were settled and then ushering Jake into the kitchen to help her make dinner as you dozed on the couch. She knew you were the one for her son, could see it on his face months ago when he’d admitted that you two were together, she wasn’t surprised one bit, she’d known for years that he had a thing for you and eventually you two would figure it out. Checking to make sure you were still asleep she dug through her never ending coach bag (Jake always called her Mary poppins because she seemed to have everything) and produced a small velvet box. “You said you wanted me to give this to you when you were ready, and I know right now may not be the right time but son one day it will be. She’s the right one sweetheart, I can feel it in my bones.” There inside the little green box was the thing he’d dreamed about putting on your finger from that very first weekend, Grandma Seresin’s vintage engagement ring. He knew he’d have to wait a little while, let you heal up all the way and see where your career took you but holding it in his hand and watching you sleep on the couch he couldn’t help but feel like everything was falling into place.

Jake Seresin masterlist

Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @roosterforme @attapullman @bobgasm @djs8891 @mygyn @pinkdaisies9285 @mrsevans90 @seitmai @jessicab1991 @shanimallina87 @dizzybee03 @86laura11 @its-the-pilot @jostan456 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @kmc1989 @nouis-bum @dempy @floydsglasses

[forestkniight]

I'll Be Seeing You

✯ Chapter 1 ✯

Okay, it's been a while since I've written a fic that wasn't a one-shot, so I'm really hoping that it's something I can keep up with. I currently have about four chapters planned, but they are still developing. Even in this chapter, I changed a few things to make the story flow better!

Pairing: Fizzarolli x reader (still debating if I want to make it a polyamorous relationship eventually)

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 3K

When you’re a kid, the sky's the limit regarding your dreams. No one expects you to have it all figured out, and for the most part, a little voice in your head tells you that you’ll make it out of your situation. Little did you know, it would come at a cost. 

~~

Clutching your chest, you quickly sit up as you try to calm your frantic heartbeat. Several weeks have passed, and you keep having dreams of your past and all the choices that got you where you are today. You take a breath as you look at the slivers of red that pass through the opening of your curtain. 

How long has it been since you fell asleep?

You sigh as you reach for your phone to catch up on anything you might have missed while sleeping, which wasn’t much. Nothing new there. You lay back in bed and stare at the ceiling. These days seem to be going by slower, and you blame it on the lack of sleep due to the dreams. 

Flashes of red and white. 

Of horses.

Of black and white horns.

You shake your head as you check the time. It was still early, and you wouldn’t have to check into work until later on. You currently work as a singer at a live music club in the Pride Ring. You didn’t live an expensive life, but you were content for the most part, especially when you got to sing. When you were a child, all you ever wanted to do was perform in front of people and make them feel something. You never got that opportunity as a child, though. You wince as a memory enters your mind.

“Blitzo! I have to clean that up,” you pouted as you picked up the garbage your friend tossed everywhere on the floor. 

“It’s not my fault you got me a gift and made it impossible to open,” Blitzo says while trying to untape the gift box that was previously in another taped-up gift box. 

You couldn’t help but smile widely as you waited for Blitzo to finally get to the actual gift. You glanced at Fizz, who was just as excited about the gift as your other friend. As if sensing your gaze, he looked up at you and stuck his tongue out at you.

“This is low, even for you! You know Blitzo can’t resist a gift,” Fizz teased.

You giggled as you saw Blitzo’s frustration at opening the gift box and finding yet another gift box inside. 

“Well, I couldn’t make it easy for him,” you said, reaching out to grab the discarded tape Blitzo had thrown to the side. " Besides, his gift is in the next box.”

Fizz smiled and shook his head at you. He looked back at Blitzo's hand, and he was close to opening the final gift box. Once he managed it, he removed its contents.

“No way,” Blitzo’s eyes lit up as he took out a little gold figurine of a horse and a heart-shaped locket.

“I was walking around some shops in my free time and saw it in the window. I knew right away that it was meant for you,” you said as Blitzo launched himself at you, nearly tackling you.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he said as he hugged you before releasing you to admire his new figurine some more. 

“It’s no problem, Blitzo! You deserve it and more. Now,” you turn and take another gift box from close by, “I couldn’t forget a gift for my second favorite clown!”

Blitzo giggles as Fizz slightly frowns.

“Not funny.”

“Awww, come on Fizz. I’m just joking. You know you’re my favorite,” you giggled as Blitzo’s jaw dropped. 

Fizz instantly beams at the use of the word favorite. 

“Anyways, I saw this in the window, and I-”

“What’s going on here?”

The three of you turn towards the voice belonging to Blitzo’s dad, Cash. 

“Look, Dad! It’s a gold-”

“Shouldn’t you be cleaning the bleachers,” Cash turns to look at you, “They’re not cleaning themselves, girl!”

You felt your face flush in embarrassment at being talked down to in front of your friends, especially when they had acts in the circus. You were just a janitor for all intents and purposes. 

“Sir, I was just taking a little break with my friends,” you said with a tiny voice.

You hated feeling so small—not in a childlike way, but in a way that made you feel like your life was worth less because you were there to clean everybody else’s mess. 

“If you want a break, how about I fire you now, and you get all the breaks you want, huh? And what did I tell you about distracting my star,” Cash snapped at you. 

You felt your eyes tear up as you looked at Blitzo, whose head hung low. You felt bad for him. His own father preferred another boy as his son. You remembered the time his father had sold him for such a low cost and made him steal. That felt like so long ago now.

“I know, sir, but we’re kids too…We just want-”

“I don’t care! Fizzarolli, do you think that big clowns get to where they are because they spend their time talking to the help,” Cash said cruelly.

You turned to look at Fizz. He looked down at the unopened gift box in his hands before setting it slightly off to the side. 

“Fizzy?”

Your voice cracked as you realized he wasn’t going to respond. You looked up at Cash and saw the shit-eating grin he had on his face. You couldn’t help the tears beginning to pool in your eyes.

“I’ll get started right away, sir. I hope you enjoy your gift, Blitzo. Sorry for distracting you from your work, Fizzarolli,” you said bitterly. 

Cash watched as you picked up the last remnants of trash from Blitzo’s gift. You stood up and were getting ready to leave, but not before quickly snatching the letter attached to Fizz’s gift. You could see Fizz’s distress at your action, and you watched him throw a random piece of trash he had been playing with in front of him. Still, you walked forward. You wanted to walk away with some dignity.

“Aren’t you going to pick that up,” Cash barked at you, looking at the scrap in front of Fizz. 

Blitzo and Fizz looked at you as you slowly walked before him and picked up the scrap of trash, a tear running down your face. You couldn’t even bear looking at either of them at this point. You sprinted out of the small tent to head to the main tent and begin your work.

Your heart tugs as you push the memory out of your head. It was bad enough living through it. You don't need to be reminded of it anymore, considering you’ve seen commercials of Blitzø and Fizzarolli as adults. It hurt seeing their faces, especially after the way you left. Still, you wouldn’t allow yourself to dwell on it for longer than a few minutes. There was no point. Thinking about it wouldn’t change what happened. 

~~

After lazing around all day, you finally begin walking to work. You could take a car there, but it was so close, and you enjoy the time it gives you to mentally prepare. While performing was always your dream, it still got you nervous, especially if the crowd in the club was bigger than usual. Some days, the line would stretch outside the club door’s entrance. 

As you walk down the street, looking at the sights, you catch sight of a locket in one of the shop windows. You stop as you instinctively reach up to your locket tucked away under your shirt. You feel a ghost of a smile as you remember the gift you had given Blitzo and Fizzarolli. Your locket had pictures of a young Blitzo and Fizzarolli, Blitzo’s had a picture of you and Fizzarolli, and Fizzarolli’s had a picture of you and Blitzo. You sigh as you wish you could have seen Fizz’s reaction to the locket (and the letter, but that was neither here nor there). 

You see the club fast approaching and notice people already arriving for the night. So much for practicing on stage when you arrive. It must have been one of those nights when they would open the club a bit earlier. 

You quickly step to the side entrance and are let in by one of the bartenders on break. You shoot them a quick smile before finding your way to your dressing room. You always need a moment to take a breath and warm up. You begin humming as you apply minimal makeup. You just required enough so that the spotlight wouldn’t wash you out. You hear faint music in the background as you look at the door of your room through the mirror’s reflection, another memory sneaking back up. 

After cleaning the main tent, you decided to retire to the secret location you went to when you felt sad. You would typically watch your friends perform, but you didn’t want to talk to anyone about what happened earlier. You figured you could stay there until late at night before sneaking back into your tent. 

You finally made it to the location, which consisted of a lot of open space and a giant tree you liked to sit under. You softly threw yourself under the tree as you looked up at the sky, which always seemed to be the same shade of red despite the time. You closed your eyes as you tried to find a way to pass the time. However, your eyes shot open when you heard a tree branch rustling. Before you knew it, something, or more like someone, swung down from the tree branch to sit next to you.

“Heya,” Blitzo said, throwing his hands out and laying beside you. 

You rolled your eyes at how he seemed to have forgotten what had transpired earlier. 

“Blitzo, I told you to stop coming here! This is my secret place,” you whined. 

Blitzo turned to look at you, and it was his turn to roll his eyes.

“It’s not exactly a secret if people can easily walk to it from the circus.”

“Still…” 

You wanted to be alone, but Blitzo always had a way of showing up when that was the case. Some part of you was glad. Even though you wanted to be alone, it didn’t mean that was what you needed, and being around Blitzo always made you feel better. You were content to stay silent, but that wasn’t what Blitzo had in mind.

“Oh! Fizz wants to see you after the show. He wants to talk to you and get the complete gift,” Blitzo said as he sat up, looking down at you.

You quirked your eyebrow as you sat up as well. The complete gift? He must be on about the letter. 

“I wouldn’t want to distract Fizzarolli from all the important stuff he has to do,” your words are filled with sarcasm. 

“He’s coming here whether you like it or not. My dad can’t be the reason your friendship goes down the drain,” he plays with his hands, “he can’t ruin anything else.”

You feel your attitude drop at that last part. You make eye contact with him and nod to confirm that you will give Fizz the complete gift. He smiles slightly, and your eyes catch the locket around his neck. You feel a smile start to spread. He follows your gaze and rolls your eyes.

“Yea, yea. It’s not a big deal,” he stands. " Anyway, I've got to get ready for the show, but I’ll see you after, okay?”

“Alright,” you respond hesitantly as you watch him start the walk back to the main circus tent. Eventually, he walks into the tent, leaving you alone again.

You reach down to your pocket where you had folded up the letter you would give to Fizz. You had spent so much time ensuring everything was perfect, only for the moment to be ruined. You sigh and throw yourself back again, allowing the tears to reappear. This was a safe place to do so. 

The wind was blowing slightly, and you couldn’t help but reflect on your life at the circus. You had joined after you were left alone due to…circumstances. Luckily for you, Fizz and Blitzo found you on the street and asked if you were alright. If only little you could see where you were now. Would you have taken their outstretched hands? 

You didn’t know how much time had passed, but you did know it wasn’t long until people started flooding out of the tents. You felt your stomach do flips. Were you ready to tell Fizz what the letter said, especially after his silence today? Your love for him was unconditional. You only ever saw Fizz, your best friend, not Fizzarolli, the performer. You cared so deeply for him and Blitzo. They saved you and made a home in your heart that would never disappear, but you were dreaming if you thought they would ever forget your place at the circus. 

But what did that mean for you? Would you be willing to stay in a place that would lead to you yearning for something that would never happen? Were you willing to stand by and watch your friends move on in life without you? Fall in love without you? Watch Fizz fall in love with someone? 

You sat up as tears began flowing faster down your face. Your heart was in your throat as years of self-hate and pain started pouring out. Your sobs become audible. 

No, you wouldn’t become the pathetic friend who fell in love with someone they couldn’t have, the pathetic friend who thought that what they did didn’t matter as much as who they were. 

You looked up at the circus, a decision being made in your mind. You stood up and quickly ran back to your tent. You tried to listen to the performance and realized it was two acts from the end. You quickly grabbed your backpack and packed only the most valuable things you owned. The rest could be replaced, but things like gifts from your friends, items from your past before the circus, and even a hoodie from the circus were something you couldn’t part with. 

The final act was beginning—Blitzo and Fizz’s duo act. Your heart pounded as you thought about what you were doing. It wouldn’t hurt to try to see just the beginning, so you left your backpack hidden by the circus’ entrance. You snuck into the main tent and climbed to a location where only Blitzo and Fizz could see you. They still hadn’t dropped down, and you saw them messing around from across the space. Blitzo saw you first, and he beamed at you as he waved. You couldn’t help the smile that automatically appeared as you waved back. Fizz turned to see what he was waving at and saw you. He gave you a soft smile with a hesitant wave, and you felt your smile falter. 

Your first love. That’s what it was. Boy, was it frightening. But you wouldn’t fuck up his life. You knew he would make it far without you. You gave him a sad smile and noticed both of their concerned expressions. 

‘Why?’ You see Blitzo mouth, and your eyebrows raise. He mimes tears, and you reach up and feel them. 

You quickly wiped them away and chuckled to yourself. You’re terrible at leaving, but you had to, and their entrance was fast approaching.

‘It’s fine, I’m okay,’ you mouth back with gestures to match. 

They look at each other before turning to look at you worriedly. They can’t do anything, though.  They won’t. They have their jobs to do. You watched Fizz grab the rope nearby that he would swing down on, but not before turning to look at you again.

‘See you after,’ he mouths before raising his voice to ask Blitzo if he is ready. You begin making your descent, and you walk out of the tent. You quickly grab your backpack and take off at full speed towards the tree. 

FIzz was the one who showed you this tree. You liked pretending it was a secret space just for you, but it was all of yours. You stared up at it, and you felt the tears come back. You were okay, though. This was for the best. You pull out the letter you wrote to Fizz and place it at the tree's base. You didn’t bother weighing it down. If it flew away, it’d probably be a sign. Part of you hoped it would blow away, just like you. You turn towards the main tent and notice the early leavers are already spilling out. 

“There’s the rest of the gift, Fizzy. I hope you enjoy it as much as I've enjoyed getting to know you—the both of you. You saved my life in more ways than you know. I know you’ll do great things,” you whisper as you turn to leave. You hear the sound of people getting louder, and you run—for the second time in your life. 

Your eyes focus on your figure in the mirror, and your mascara was running a bit. 

“Damn it,” you move to get tissue papers, “I need to stop thinking back. We’re all better off now.”

You look unconvinced in the mirror and try on a smile to trick your body into believing it is okay. 

“It’s fine, you’re okay,” you whisper. 

You hear a knock on your door, followed by the stage manager’s minute warning. You take a deep breath and look at yourself in the mirror again. 

You looked like a proper singer. You smile gently and head out to the club's backstage area. The curtains are closed, and you can hear the hum of music and people having fun. You hear the emcee announcing your act next, and you can’t help but think about how far you have come. 

You did it. You made it out.

The curtains open, and the spotlight lands on you.

I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter! I'm really pumped to get the rest of these chapters written and published. I don't have a set timeline since I'm currently in college, working a job, and performing in a theater production, but I will try to work on this whenever I can!

Also, just a little spoiler: in the next chapter, we will see someone from our main narrator's past (outside of flashbacks)!

Edit: The original name of this fic was "Dream a Little Dream of Me," but I have decided to change it to "I'll Be Seeing You" since this song fits the story a bit more!

[readychilledwine]

idk what sort of crack you put in cat and mouse but i’ve read it 5 times now, please tell me there’s more i’m literally so desperate🧎‍♀️ like the way reader was laughing when devlon screamed or the way she said down boy to azriel???? i kinda want y/n ngl👀 ugh i need to see rhys helping her rewire her mind or her accepting the mating bond w az plssss🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

I only purchase the best Crack for my followers 💙

Paradise Lost - Cat and Mouse Prequel Part 1

But part two in the Starwars release sense. Like a prequel.

Summary - After being hired to take out The Night Court's dangerous spymaster, y/n finds herself trapped between a rock and hard place.

Warnings - mentions of rape allegations, attempted murder, mentions of murder, time jumps to try to prevent this from being 4 billion parts, mind control

A/n - sheeeees baaaaaack 💜 the prequel is going to end up being multiple parts. I do not like having my stuff end up over 4k words, I feel like reading that can be difficult, and with modern technology, distractions happen and you accidentally exit and lose your place and you're le sad. If you all disagree and would be interested in a 6-7k part, let me know 💙 p.s. these parts are going to fulfill several anonymous asks, so each one will be under a different ask

Word count - 3511 (not including time jump stamps)

Cat and Mouse Part 2

High profile targets had never scared you.

 

You'd been watching him for several weeks now. Memorizing every step, every habit, what he ate and drank. 

You knew you had one shot at this mission. One singular shot. If you failed, if he got away, you were as good as dead.

Your first lesson when you were trained on the different courts of Pryithian was do not fuck with the Night Court. Missions involving them were in and out while kept clean and untraceable. Their High Lord would find you if you left that opening, and you'd never be seen or heard from again.

The first lesson you had learned on the street was not to mess with the Shadowsinger. The reason the High Lord would find you. The reason you were currently strolling Velaris under the mask of some young fae female one of your, for a lack of a better term, co workers had killed. She had no family, no friends, just a simple life on the poor outskirts of town. She sold her body for food and money. Which was how she ended up in his talons. How all the faces you wore ended up in his talons actually. 

Taking out Azriel was not going to be an easy task, but you had discovered one weakness: 

The male loved a beautiful face. Even more so when he thought she was defenseless.

You also noticed he had a type. Blondes with doe eyes. You could not fake the blonde hair or big lost brown eyes without magic. But a defenseless female in need of rescue was easy, especially since the same co-workers who were more than happy to disguise you would be more than happy to attempt to kill you. 

So you scheduled it. Letting your keeper know what you needed and when. Letting him know specifically non lethal shots on the shadowsinger with faebane would let you have an easier chance at taking him out somewhere privately.

Azriel, despite his intelligence, had fallen for it. And now he sat strapped to a chair in a ran down cabin in the woods with you watching him. You should have ended it instantly, but per the client's request, you were asked for three things, a confession of his crime, one of his hands to prove he was dead, and the pretty dagger you were translating the wyrdmarks off of.

"I know you're awake," you purred to him finishing another character. "You won't be able to contact him. Shackles, little pup."

He scoffed before lightly chuckling. "If you knew I was awake, why are we just sitting here?"

You shrugged. "I was hoping you'd start the conversation first. Or explain to me how you have a Cauldron made weapon in your possession."

"You took me hostage, I believe you should be explaining to me." 

You looked at him, pursing your lips slightly and nodding. "Not much to explain, little pup. I'm getting paid to kill you. Why is interesting, though." You paused, setting the dagger on the table and grabbing the parchment before sitting on the ground cross legged in front of him. He was almost appalled by the action. It was a backhanded way of you saying you very clearly did not see him as a threat.

"Does Princess Alyana of Rusk ring any bells for you?" 

His lip twitched, eyes sparkling with mischief briefly. "Perhaps."

You just nodded. "Can I ask what exactly the thought process behind raping a princess is? Did you think the King wouldn't ask for your head on a pike?"

Azriel looked at you in shock, hazel eyes wide, and jaw slightly opened, "I did not rape her."

You looked at the weathered parchment again, reading the soft swirling letters of the King. Letters beautified by years of practice you'd never be able to have. "According to her story of the night you were caught in her room, you had came in the window, raped her, and only left before killing her because the guards were coming." You bend the parchment keeping all other lines and information secret and showed him. 

His jaw twitched and anger was set in. "I did not harm or rape her. She invited me to her chambers and into her bed. I would never harm a female."

"A lie," you said softly. "I've watched you drag several into the prison and leave covered in blood. Their blood."

"They were spies and traitors."

"I didn't realize an occupation changed your gender. Do your little shadow wraiths know you believe they are not females? How about sweet Morrigan? She is technically a traitor to the Court of Nightmares. Do you believe she isn't female as well?" You rose a brow in challenge. 

Slow realization hit Azriel's face causing you to smile at him. "If you laid a fucking hand on-"

"Relax, pretty boy. I'm only here for you." You stood patting his head, "your special day." 

"What group are you with?" 

You smirked under the mask you were wearing but kept the outside face neutral. "Does it matter?"

"What is your name?"

"No one. I am no one." You answered automatically.

"So the House of the Faceless from the Silent Isles. What happened to the girl you probably murdered?"

"I didn't kill her. Unlike you, I actually do not harm women or females. Do you have a preference on how you die? Poison, stabbing, burning to death?" You looked at his hands. "Probably not that one, huh? Drowning! Polar opposite." He balked at your excitement. "I thought it was a fun option," you crossed your arms. "Been awhile since I water boarded someone."

Azriel shook his head, laughing. "So you won't even give me an honorable death?"

"I'm not fucking stupid enough to fight a Carynthian hand on hand nor with weapons." You could have sworn you saw him smirk. "I'm also not stupid enough to think taking away these," you held up one of his siphons, "means I'm safe if I let you out of those shackles."

Azriel had not even noticed his siphons were gone and he looked down. "How did you know how to remove those?" 

Your brain flashed to a nightmare, one of winged male standing over you. One of pain before you were tossed to your keeper. "Lucky guess," your voice was distant. 

He huffed. "You're illyrian." It wasn't a question, but a statement. "That's why your scent is off. A high fae would not carry the scent we do." 

You felt your world building pressure and rubbed your temples. "Look, this has been fun, but I'm over it." You grabbed the bloodbane you had purchased soaking it on one of your own daggers. 

"If you're going to kill me, at least do me the kindness of getting to see who is actually killing me." You sighed heavily. "Can I give you a word of advice as well? Shackles only work when you aren't dealing with someone who can pick a lock. You also talk way too much."

You had anticipated this, truthfully. You caught his wrist as he went to swing on you and leg swept him to the ground. "The shackles you were in were coated in faebane and bloodbane, torture Master." You straddled his hips as he held his chest to catch his breath. "My hands were also covered in it so you just welcomed it right back into your bloodstream." 

"Go fuck yourself."

"I do nightly," you did something Azriel wasn't expecting then, lifting the skin of the mask off of your face and throwing it to the fire to cancel the magic it also held on your body.

He was right. You were illyrian. An absolutely beautiful illyrian. Long dark hair falling into loose curls, long dark lashes, tan skin, spell binding hazel eyes. "Definitely Illyrian," he coughed out. "At least I'm going to die looking at something beautiful." He had you at the comment. You stilled completely hand barely wrapped around the dagger. "Has no one ever told you that you were beautiful?" He watched you blink, eyes glazing over and shutting as if he had called a painful memory forward. "Can I know your name?"

"No one," you whispered again. "I am no one." You finally looked at him, and you both felt it. You both felt that painful snap. A snap that now shattered your world. You were about to kill your mate. The one thing you'd always hoped would rescue you from the loneliness of your lifestyle. You dropped the dagger, feeling as if someone had just split your world in two. 

"You don't have to do this," he cooed softly to you. "You don't have to kill me. We can talk about this. I can help you. Take you somewhere safe." You stared at him ad he tentatively stepped towards you, hands grabbing your upper arms. "I won't hurt you. No one is ever going to hurt you again."

You knew he meant it. You handed him a vial, the only antidote you had, and then the free faebaned shackles you had also hidden. Turned so he could shackle you behind your back. 

He was so gentle as he did, kissing the back of your head. "You're going to be safe, little hellcat. I promise." 

You heard and smelled them before you saw them. "Well what happened here, Az?" A playful male voice asked. You heard the parchment on the desk moving and closed your eyes as the scent of citrus and sea moved closer to you.

"Hmm. A no one. Who'd you piss off, Azriel?"

"King of Rusk," the playful voice was no longer playful. "The assassin known by the name Eden was specifically requested." It quoted the letter reading the rest of it slowly. "She must be Eden."

You felt the male in front of you trying to rummage through your mind, and looked up at him. His eyes were filled with sympathy and heartache. "You poor creature. I am so sorry, darling." He looked at Azriel. "Put her in one of the nicer cells at the prison until we can trust her." His hand went up as Azriel, as your mate's breath hitched. "She was sent here to kill you, Az. Regardless of the bond, she is dangerous. Ensure she is given real food, she hasn't ate since she came to Velaris almost a week ago. I'm going to need her in better health to untangle the mess they have her in." 

2 weeks later

Rhys sat on the chair across from the small bed he had allowed to be brought into your cell. Watching as you pulled your legs up and hid your face in your knees.

"You should have a camp brand. It would have been done when you were a babe since you are female. Do you have any odd scars?" His voice was always gentle with you. 

"I can't remember," you answered honestly. You hardly remembered Illyria. Hardly remembered you were even Illyrian or what that even meant. "I remember when I was taken to the school-"

"When you were sold like a pig for slaughter to sell swords, darling." He interrupted. "You weren't taken to a school. You were taken to a temple that purchases children they believe have potential to become assassins if they can wipe their memories and humanity well enough. They unfortunately succeeded with you. Every memory you have is locked in a box in your mind."

"They used food," you whispered softly. "If I asked about something, my first punishment was food. First a week, then two. After that it was poisoning."

"Which is why you can touch fae and blood banes." You could sense the pain in his voice. "Are you comfortable taking the dress off for me? I want to see if I can find your brand." You complied, standing slowly to lift the soft cotton dress Azriel had given you off your frame. 

Rhys stood and walked around you in a circle, hand pausing as it grazed over a scar on the side of your hip. "They cut it out of you." You watched him from the mirror as he proceeded to your back, breath hitching and his eyes closing. "Were your wings removed by them or before?" Rhysand watched as your eyes glazed over, as your mind heard a male screaming at you. As your mind heard what he could only assume were your terrified screams from childhood. "Before." His voice cracked. "I know who did, though."

That night in Windhaven, Rhys slammed Devlon's face into the desk. "Who is she?" He forced her to stare at the drawing one of the twins had done of you. "I've heard you screaming at her in her memories. Who the fuck is she?"

Devlon shook his head. "I had nothing to do with what happened to her."

"That's not what I'm asking." Rhys was growling. "Tell me willingly or Azriel will carve it out of you." Rhys held his mind, pulling at it slightly until the male screamed an answer.

"She a bastard of my oldest son." Devlon answered. "He thought getting rid of her would make his and that whore he was laying with lives easier. They sold her. I didn't know."

Azriel growled and lunged. "Her name. What's her name?"

"Y/n," Devlon panted. "Y/n."

1 month later

Countless days were spent with Rhysand in your mind, unwinding memories like a spool of yarn in the paws of a kitten. He had taken mercy on you today after a brutal session that ended with you collapsing into Azriel's arms.

Azriel sat across from you, eating the soup he had brought to share with you. "Rhys might let me move you to the House of Wind," he spoke between spoons. "You'd be warded to a room there between myself and Cassian, but you'd at least have a window and a view." You felt his heart pinch when you looked at him. 

His eyes filled with sadness, with longing, with sympathy. "I know it isn't much. But it's better than here." You nodded, pushing the soup away. "Are you not hungry?"

"I don't like leaks," you responded gently. 

Azriel laughed softly. "I've never heard an illyrian complain about food before. I can have Rhys bring you something else tonight. Is there anything specific you want?"

You were in no position to ask for anything special. Especially not what your mind was trapped on. But you didn't realize Azriel sensed it through the bond and had immediately asked Rhys to go to the bakery you had walked by and almost went into every day. "You aren't our prisoner, little hellcat." Azriel put his bowl down and moved to kneel in front of you. "You are my mate, and I know it feels like an empty promise, but I promise you that once Rhys believes your mind is safe and secure, you will have more freedoms. You're here because we do not know the extent you were controlled at. Surely you know what other organizations do to their assassins?"

You did. Your body shivered at the thought of the spiders they used to turn the fae who worked for them into nothing more than a mindless shell. "Winter has this tea," you started slowly. "I don't remember what it is. But it's sweet but spicy?" Azriel rose a brow. "Not like my mouth is on fire spicy, but.. like… tooth paste?"

He smiled. "I have that at home. I will bring some to you tomorrow." He leaned forward to kiss your forehead and then rested his forehead against yours. "You are so brave, y/n." 

He watched as your eyes glazed over. As your mouth slightly parted and your body stilled.

You were trapped in a memory. A memory of another little male, his wings held high and proud on his back as you two ran and played. He was wearing rags, covered in dirt. You knew this memory, you had dreams about it. "Wait for me!" You heard yourself giggle. "Cassian, wait for me. Why do you run so fast?"

"Because, y/n, I gotta be fast if I'm going to be better than everyone else here some day!"

That bright smile, that playful voice. Rhys was dead silent in the corner, sharing the memory with Azriel. "Az, go get him." 

Rhys sat with you as Cassian entered the cell. He watched as Rhys cradled you to him. "Cassian, can you sit down please?"

The general nodded, continuing to watch. His eyes glazed over as Rhys showed him the memory and the countless others that followed. 

Cassian's voice was choked. "I thought she had died. Her dad came screaming one day his daughter had been taken. Her wings were… they were pinned to his cabin door, Rhys." Cassian felt sick thinking back to his childhood crush's wings hanging limply by the membranes, blood soaking the wood porch and steps. "It Was a few weeks before you came."

"Do you know if they branded her on her hip, Cassian?" The male nodded immediately. 

"You two should talk for a little bit," Rhys cupped your face delicately. "I have to go pick up those cookies you've been thinking about. I will be back in a few hours. If another memory comes, scream for me in your mind." 

Cassian tooks his place, his hands also coming to cup your cheeks. "You are so beautiful. You know that?"

All three of them made it a point to tell you that now. Surely if three attractive males thought you were beautiful, that had to be true.

A couple weeks later

Rhys was in your mind again, digging and digging while you cried. It was painful. So fucking painful. It felt as though you were being pulled into half by two horses. 

Like someone was cutting you limb by limb.

You hated these sessions. Where you had to sit there, gripping the sheets so hard your knuckles had gone white, holding in screams and whimpers, and crying. 

"Found it," Rhys smirked. "It's a spell. A damn good one, but still just a spell. Meaning it can be broken." He was still in the jungle he had begun to call your mind, stopping at another memory. "I was wondering who killed him. A shame, really. I would have paid to watch that in person. Many of us would have."

Rhys wrote down the name of a former hybern General you had slaughtered and hung. He had started keeping track. Every king, queen, general, or fae you killed sat in a pretty notebook. 600 names. 

600 names lined those pages like a bloodstain in white clothing.

You validated it to yourself. Cruel kings. Corrupt queens. Predators. You were only ever assigned to the worst cases, being too skilled to be wasted on petty killings.

"Stop." Rhys ordered softly. "Do not focus on what you have done. Focus on how we move forward, darling. We have a home Azriel and Cassian like to stay in. I'd like to move you there."

Azriel held you close as he walked you into your new room at the House of Wind. "Cassian is directly across the hall, I am right next to you." You nodded, arms crossing over your chest as you took in the room. Guilt sat deep in your stomach. How much had they spent to decorate it? To furnish it? 

You took in the gold hues swirled in with blacks and greys. The wooden desk with hand carved swirls and edges. The couch and chairs. Your eyes locked in on the bed though. A real, plush, 4 poster bed. It would easily fit you and Azriel if you ever desired. Rhys appeared behind you two, his heart tightening at the sentence he knew was about to come out. A sentence all too familiar to him. 

"I've never had one." 

Azriel looked at you, "A room to yourself?"

You shook your head. "No. A real bed. We were not even allowed to sleep on beds during missions. Only blankets." He watched you walk to the bed, gently squishing a beaded throw pillow in your hands. 

"Darling," Rhysand said softly. "I have a friend who believes he can break the spell in your mind. He is concerned about potential consequences, though."

You were too lost and the luxury of the fabric to respond. The silk sheets covering the bed were the softest thing you'd ever felt. Rhysand and Azriel did not say anything, nodding to each other to leave the room with a gentle click behind them.

You pulled the blanket back further on the sheets, and curled yourself into the mattress. 

Your eyes began to flutter shut frequently, mind stilling as you felt a wave of comfort and protection come your way. Soon, the light of the room faded, and you walked into a dreamers pathway of sleep. 

Helion had come to the House of Wind that night. Flown there blindfolded by Cassian. He stood in Rhysand's office, a deep red wine in one hand as he crossed his arms over his pecs. "So she's at least 300 years old and has been held under a mind control spell for the majority of that time?"

The three illyrian males nodded in response. "Breaking it could kill her if it's done in one shot. Unraveling it, though, releasing her piece by piece may be safest." 

Azriel looked down. "How long would that take?"

"Years," Rhysand answered. "Her mind has to heal enough with each break or else her humanity and morals flooding her all at once can have consequences if it doesn't just shatter her mind." 

Helion nodded. "Our mind is a delicate place. Having it tampered with that long is dangerous. For us and her. I would need to see it and feel it to fully determine how safe it is."

Azriel nodded. "I'll go get her."

His footsteps felt heavy and defeated as he moved through the House of Wind. He paused at your door, lost in thought, but shook off his doubt as he knocked.

If anyone would be able to help you, it would be Rhysand and Helion.

[sbdskate]

Laws Of Attraction (Part 5) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: McLaren is in breach of contract, dr3 hires a lawyer to deal with the aftermath. Tropes ensue. Slow burn. Enemies(kind of) -> Friends/colleagues -> Lovers

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings: language, angst, mature themes

Word Count: 4,371

A/N: In a shocking turn of events, this is in fact not the last part. I really wanted to put something out there this week but I’m still not quite finished with the last bit of the story. That being said, I think I found a good break point. I’m not even going to jinx myself by saying the next part is going to be the last, so TBD. Thank you again for your support. Please don’t be a ghost reader, and please feel free to comment or DM with any positive or constructive feedback. Enjoy!  

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue 1

You woke up the next morning feeling refreshed. Perhaps that was your fatal flaw all along. The entire time you spent trying and failing to suppress and divert your feelings for the driver, you would have been better served leaning into them and letting them go in a controlled space.  

In clearing the air with Daniel, you felt a weight lifted. You were still shocked by the revelation that the feelings were mutual at least in part, but there was comfort and stability in the understanding that had been reached. The lightness allowed you to finally stand in your confidence and share in the excitement of the next phase of negotiations. The season would be over in less than a month, with only two races left including Brazil. You were grateful for the light at the end of the tunnel.

You discreetly made your way to Red Bull hospitality on Thursday morning, bright and early in Sao Paolo before the chaos of media day began. There was only an admin there who greeted you showed you around. You made yourself comfortable in the empty kitchen area, where it was immediately obvious the difference in resources. It felt opulent yet comforting, especially compared to the aggressive orange and sparse theme of McLaren. Then again, spending any excessive time around McLaren hospitality or their garage nowadays just made you depressed and resentful.

It was early, even for you, and you desperately needed to caffeinate before the meeting. You saw the coffee machine, but no mugs in sight. You began opening drawers and cupboards in search of a vessel, cursing Christian Horner in your head. You finally found them, but of course they were on one of the upper shelves. You strained your body to extend as far as it would go, everything you needed just out of reach. While adjusting your balance on your tiptoes, you felt a warm body press against you and a shadow of an arm reaching over you. You closed your eyes and sharply inhaled, relishing the pressure on your back and the smell of familiar cologne. You opened your eyes again when he peeled away from you.

“I think you were looking for this?” Daniel handed you a mug. You took it, feeling your fingers brush again. The epiphany you had earlier was dispelled in an instant. Engaging in self pleasure may have acted as a momentary release, but it did not subdue the feelings that had taken firm root over the last few months. Masturbation was simply a light pruning for the sturdy tree that now grew in your garden that refused to be moved by earthquakes or hurricanes.   

“I could’ve gotten it,” you grumbled avoiding eye contact. You had told yourself you had no reason to feel awkward about the other night, but you felt yourself shrinking in his presence nonetheless. His voice went up several decibels and he batted his eyes to mock you.

“Good morning, Daniel! Thanks so much for helping me! Good morning to you too, no problem, so happy I could help.” You rolled your eyes.  

“Good morning. I promise I’ll be nicer in ten minutes once I’ve had my coffee.” You haphazardly raised your empty mug. He raised his hands and backed away, a small smirk on his face, but did not leave. He found a seat elsewhere in the kitchen, and you felt his eyes on your back as you went about your business.

You locked eyes when you turned around with a full cup. He innocently smiled and waved, while you forced an aggressive smile back. Leaning against the counter, you took a few sips of coffee without breaking eye contact. After a few minutes you joined him.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Are you done being a cunt?”

“Are you done being a douche canoe?” He snorted.

“I guess not.”

“Likewise.” You paused. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to be here so early before the meeting.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. Me neither. I’m excited, I think. And a little nervous.” He looked like a child on his first day of school, fidgety and unable to contain the energy requiring release. He couldn’t help the growing smile on his face. It was contagious, and you quickly found yourself smiling too.

“You should be – excited! Not nervous,” you quickly clarified. He looked down while he continued to bounce his knee.

“What if I make the wrong choice again?” he timidly whispered, though it could have been a question directed at you or the universe. It was no secret that many thought him leaving Red Bull in 2018 was the worst professional decision Daniel Ricciardo ever made, his short stint with Renault followed by his experience with McLaren as evidence. However, hindsight is 20/20. Perhaps he had too much hubris at the time, but he very validly thought he was being forced into a second driver position. How could he have known the series of unfortunate events that would follow? You did not fight the urge to hold his hand this time, gently placing yours on top of his in the middle of the table as you leaned in.

“There is no wrong choice this time,” you whispered back.

You truly believed that Daniel was in a win-win situation. Mercedes was a well-oiled, professional machine. The relationship there would be a symbiotic one. You thought they could help ground and focus Daniel, while Daniel could improve their public image and perhaps allow them to shed their somewhat stuffy, mechanical persona. Moreover, it would represent a clean slate with a new team. Conversely, you couldn’t deny how poetic a return to Red Bull would be. The place where Daniel spent so many years at the beginning of his career, it would be a momentous homecoming.

The Red Bull kitchen was quiet and empty. He looked at your hand. You were about to pull away but he lightly took hold of it before you could.

“Thanks,” he said in a soft voice to match the soft smile that graced his features.

“Of course. You know I’m always here for you.”

“I know.” He lazily rubbed your fingers with his thumb.

“Do you want to go over anything before the meeting?” You feebly attempted to redirect the conversation to be more professional, but you both knew there was no real effort as neither of you moved.

“Not really. I feel good this time.”

You remained in comfortable silence for a beat, lost in the exchange of energy that passed through one another. Your phone buzzed, pulling you away from the moment temporarily. Your face fell slightly. He looked at you expectantly.

“Well, you’re stuck with me today. The partner’s tied up with something.” You raised your gaze to meet his, searching for some kind of approval. He feigned distress.

“Oh no, what will I do? You’ve only handled 70% of this whole process on your own.” You squinted, skeptical of his confirmation.

“You trust a meager, low level associate to handle the entire trajectory of your future?”

“At this point, I trust you with my life.”

It was hard to tell whether he was being overdramatic for comedic effect or genuine. Foot steps in the distance pulled you from your trance, your hands quickly recoiling. With his back to the entry, he didn’t miss the chance to give you a wink and a smile that made you want to melt into the floor. Instead, you rolled your eyes in response but your bashful smile gave you away. You stood up when you saw your expected hosts enter.

“My two favorite people!”

“Good morning, Christian. I appreciate it, but you know flattery doesn’t work with me,” you quipped as you shook hands. When he wasn’t pissing off the rest of the grid, Christian really was quite the charmer when he wanted to be.

“On the contrary, it will get you everywhere.” The smile didn’t leave his face when he turned to Daniel, arms wide open. Their energy was well matched as they embraced in a warm hug. As happy as the driver was last week with his points finish, he seemed immensely more comfortable now.

When they separated, Christian looked at you again.

“What is this? Coffee and no Red Bull?” he teased.

“Sorry, had a bad experience in law school with energy drinks I’m afraid. Nothing personal. Though I was beginning to wonder whether the coffee machine was for decoration only.”

“They hide the mugs on purpose,” Daniel chimed in. Given the dimply smile and his tone, you would think he was joking but knew he was absolutely telling the truth.   

“He leaves for four years, comes back, and thinks he owns the place and can share company secrets.”

You had seen it several times now, but it amazed you how easy their relationship seemed. Although technically Mercedes was not out of the question, you already knew where Daniel’s heart was. It was now just a matter of ironing out the details.

Christian and the Red Bull lawyer joined you at the table in the kitchen. It was a nice change of setting, the informality of it made the weight of the discussion feel a bit lighter. The process with them was easy, especially compared to McLaren and even Mercedes. While it was slightly less formal, at all times you felt respected. Not once did anyone assume you were an admin or paralegal, which admittedly is a low bar. But even beyond that, especially with the partner’s absence, you were never treated as a subordinate and your professional capabilities were never called into question. Of course this process was not about you, but in your opinion you believed choice of outside counsel was an extension of the type of work environment your client could expect. Red Bull had been a pleasant surprise in this respect.

It was all smiles when you exchanged handshakes as you parted ways. You and Daniel were shown out the back door to avoid a few media that had just started to arrive at the paddock. You walked behind the teams’ hospitality stations so that you could join the main entry of the paddock without raising suspicion.

“So. How do you think it went?” you casually asked. You didn’t want your own opinion to taint whatever his genuine response may be.

“Honestly… I think it went really well.” The dimply smile you had become so fond of returned to his face.

“Honestly… me too.” You allowed yourself to show your enthusiasm, feeling yourself break into a wide grin. Away and hidden from the main walk of the paddock, he grabbed your hands and you both quietly squealed and jumped up and down. After a few seconds when you stopped and regained composure, he asked:

“So, what’s next?”

“Well, that depends on you. If you think you’re ready to pull the trigger with Red Bull, you let me know ASAP and assuming we’ve already nixed any dealbreakers that would’ve been in their offer, we go through everything again with a fine-tooth comb, see if they’re able to come up on anything and sign.”

“And Mercedes?”

“We keep them in play until everything is in writing and executed. No need to have a PR disaster like Alpine.” You were, of course, referring to the unfortunate circumstances of Alpine prematurely announcing Oscar Piastri as their second driver for 2023. He chuckled as you continued walking towards McLaren. You could hear the hustle and bustle from the press getting louder as more people began to arrive. He paused just before you were about to turn the corner and enter the circus.

“I want to be at Red Bull,” he said definitively. You smiled.

“Ok then. I’ll get to work.” He gave you an encouraging fist bump before taking a deep breath, knowing this would be the last bit of downtime you both had for the rest of the weekend, reluctant to leave the nest of the quiet sanctuary you shared just behind the organized chaos.

“Shall we?”

You sighed. “No time better than the present.”

-

Brazil was an eventful whirlwind. It was no surprise to you that Daniel continued to skillfully navigate an onslaught of questions about his future in the sport on press day and the rest of the weekend. On Saturday, the two of you gossiped excitedly when Kevin Magnussen got pole in qualifying despite Daniel’s own mediocre performance. Obviously the sport was cut throat, but everyone couldn’t help but root for the Haas underdog. There was a buzz during the sprint, Daniel just out of reach of the points in p11. Unfortunately, the race itself ended up resulting in a DNF for both McLaren boys. With each day of events, Daniel’s mood seemed to sour despite the positive steps being taken behind the scenes. Of course DNF-ing on what could be his second to last race ever is not what anyone wanted. However, while you sympathized for Daniel, that’s not what you were focused on. There was the celebration of George’s first win with Lewis also on the podium, but then there was the internal team drama you watched unfold at Red Bull.  

You anxiously waited out the post-race interview process so that you could update your client. If there was any question on what the path forward was before, it became crystal clear today.

As he walked through the paddock eager to get to his drivers room for some solitude, he saw you practically bouncing on your toes. He was a little annoyed to see you in such high spirits after an abysmal race, but it also made him relax a bit.

“I should DNF more often if it makes you this happy,” he dryly joked as he approached you. You should have been used to this song and dance by now. He makes a questionably flirtatious comment, you blush and get flustered, and after a bit of fumbling you redirect course and get back to business. You knew he wouldn’t change his behavior, no matter how many times you halfheartedly scolded or ignored him. It shouldn’t make you flustered any more, but there was excitement in not knowing whether there was any truth behind it. And as much as you hated to admit it, you liked it. But that was before your conversation in Mexico, where you divulged so much about your own inner turmoil. You had made yourself vulnerable. After that, you had assumed he would stop out of respect. What was a thrill before now felt like a cruel joke at your expense.

“Very funny,” you deadpanned. “I have some important news to share with you, can we go somewhere private to discuss?”

“You’re not going to buy me dinner first?” He had said this before, but it wasn’t landing like it used to.

“You’re going to have to buy yourself a new lawyer if you keep this act up.” For someone who didn’t finish the race, he was being awfully cocky today. And by goodness, did it make you feel things.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re the one who said you wanted to be alone with me -”

“Daniel.” He usually stopped after the first rebuttal.

“Not that I’m mad at it-“

Your previous excitement began to sour in your mouth as your heartbeat quickened. You grabbed his wrist and dragged him through McLaren hospitality to his drivers room. You didn’t care who saw or what it looked like. You practically pushed him in and shut the door behind you. His eyes widened as you got in his face.

“Oh shit, is this actually happening?” he began to pull at his shirt.

“What?! No. Shut up. What is wrong with you today?”

“Oh come on, I was just joking! You know I always do this.”

“No.” You pushed your pointer finger into his chest. “Today, you’re being an ass. I don’t know if this is you acting out after a shitty race or what, but pull it together. You are not a 21 year old frat boy, you’re a 33 year old world class athlete with a fully developed frontal lobe - who is now wasting my time, and rest assured, I am billing you for it. And if you stopped your inappropriate jokes for two fucking seconds and let me do my job, I would have told you that there’s a solid chance you can be on the grid in 2024 in a fucking Red Bull. Thought you might want to know.”

You had backed him into a wall and were inches away from his face, huffing and puffing. You were so mad, that one man could make you so infuriated and horny at the same time. His eyes were still the size of dinner plates, but his expression had fallen slightly. It was his turn to blush. He had been surrounded by yes-men for so long, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been chastised like this.

“I’m sorry-” You continued, your tone somewhat more even.

“Max wouldn’t let Checo through today despite what it would mean for the driver’s and constructor’s championships because he thinks Checo purposefully sabotaged him during qualifying in Monaco. The girls are fighting which is more bad PR for Red Bull, Checo’s contract is up next year, and if this dynamic continues between the two drivers then there’s a good chance they won’t renew it.”

“That’s great news-” You cut him off again.  

“Am I a joke to you? Because I know you wouldn’t be making these comments if I was a man. I know you thought I was some secretary when we first met, but I really thought I had earned your respect throughout this process.” He looked at you now wearing the pink pantsuit you’d worn on that fateful first day.

“Can I just-”

“I’ve had to deal with so many mediocre men with undeserved self-inflated egos my entire life. I’ve dated them, I’ve been in class with them, I’ve worked with them, I’ve worked for them – especially the last five years at this godforsaken law firm. Lord knows I don’t need another one. I’ve had to work twice as hard and be better than them to prove myself as an equal. And even with all that, no matter what, as soon as I leave the room I’m the punchline of some joke I never asked or wanted to be a part of because I have boobs. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot initially but I really thought you were different. But no-”

One second you were ranting, the next you were cut off by lips crashing into yours. In your fury you missed his warm brown eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. In a flash he had grabbed the lapel of your suit jacket to bring you towards him, your hands landing firmly on his chest. Fireworks flashed behind your eyelids and for a moment you forgot what day it was, where you were, and who you were. You don’t know how long it lasted. You should have pulled away. You definitely shouldn’t have kissed back. But the taste of saline on him from the demands of the day and the scruff of his beard on your chin and cheeks made you want to stay. You smelled his cologne mixed with musk and, what was that, aftershave? Instead, he pulled away first.

You blinked a few times, jaw slack. You brought a hand to your lips, half to make sure they were still there but also for confirmation that you didn’t just hallucinate.

“Sorry, it was the only way I could think to get you to shut up so I could get a word in edgewise. If you’d let me talk, I would say I think you’re the most brilliant person I’ve ever met. You’re smart, witty, funny, and no, it doesn’t hurt that you’re as good looking as I am. You think I give a fuck about billing? I would spend my entire fortune down to nothing if it meant I got to spend more time with you. I’ve known for weeks I wanted to go to Red Bull and I didn’t tell you until three days ago because as excited as I am about figuring out what I’m doing next year, I’m equally dreading it because as soon as I sign that means you leave. When you’re not in the room I only sing your highest praises. So yes, of course I respect you. And I realize, kissing you just now may have proved your point, and I’m sorry about that. And you’re right that I’ve been a cunt today and a lot of this weekend, and I’m sorry about that too.”

There had been very few times in your life where you were left speechless, and this was one of them. It was literally your job to be good with words, and right now they failed you.  

“And I know you’re going to say ‘let’s forget that this ever happened’ and I’ll move on and get back to business, but I can promise you I won’t. I’ll never tell another soul for your sake, because I don’t want you to lose your job, but I refuse to forget this, our conversation in Mexico, or that Sunday in Austin. You’re unforgettable f/n l/n.”

You stood there in silence for a few moments. Your adrenaline was through the roof and your mind was blank. He was clearly looking for a response, yet you had none. You did your best to break the tension.

“Well if your goal was to get me to shut up, you succeeded.”

“Honestly, I’m as shocked as you are,” he said with a small laugh. There was another long pause. “I shouldn’t have said all of that, I’m sorry.” You gave him a knowing smile.

“No you’re not.” He smirked.

“Yeah, not really.” You had become particularly focused on a speck of dirt on the floor, but finally returned his gaze.

“You know nothing can happen,” you whispered. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement of fact that was directed at yourself as much as him. You unsuccessfully tried to hide the disappointment in your voice. He refused to look away from you even when you continued to avoid eye contact.

“Yeah, I know.”

Silence descended again. There was nothing else to say. You realized through your tirade and this whole exchange you had been standing dangerously close to one another, and you hadn’t backed away after the kiss. You could feel his heartbeat on your chest, and you were pretty sure he could hear yours. You separated yourself and tried to pick up whatever pieces of dignity you had left. You straightened out your suit jacket and cleared your throat.

“I’m going to try to add some clauses in the contract for 2024 primary driver placement. They’ll almost certainly come back with red lines to make them conditional, perhaps based on Checo’s performance and/or your own performance in the sim, but Horner loves you so much that I think they’ll be receptive to the idea overall.” Your heart hurt at how crestfallen he looked.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

“I’ll send you a draft before it goes to Red Bull. You can expect deliverables by tomorrow.”

“Ok.”

“Assuming everything goes smoothly, I anticipate the agreement to be fully executed by Abu Dhabi. Does that sound like a reasonable timeline?”

He was incredulous at how quickly you could shut everything off. He had spilled his heart to you and in return he received merely an acknowledgement before you put an abrupt end to the conversation. You had done it so many times before to a lesser extent that he shouldn’t have been surprised by how quickly your walls went back up, but he somehow thought this time would be different.

“Yeah,” he finally answered. “But… I want to wait until after the race. I don’t want to have to worry about sneaking away in the middle of practice or qualifying.” It was his way of saying he wanted you there for the duration of the race weekend, he had gotten used to your presence over the last three months. Despite whatever this altercation did to your relationship, professional or otherwise, he couldn’t imagine finishing the tumultuous season without you by his side. He hoped you would pick up the subtlety, but it went over your head.

“I don’t know Daniel, Red Bull probably has a million celebratory events immediately afterwards seeing as their driver won the championship and they won the constructor’s. I imagine McLaren also has a bunch of end of season events planned as well that you’ll have to attend.”

“Can we ask if they can spend an extra day in the country?”

“If you want to wait until after the season is over I totally get it, it might just be easier if we try to schedule something at Milton Keynes the following week.” For someone so smart you were also awfully dense. He tried to come up with a logical explanation that you would be willing to go along with.

“I just thought it would be smart to be able to announce this within a few days after the end of the season, where there’s still buzz and interest and before we get too far into winter break. Plus then it would give the team a few days to come up with a press release still within that timeframe.”

You couldn’t argue that such timing would be better publicity for both him and Red Bull.

“Hmm, I suppose you’re right. No promises, but I’ll reach out to Red Bull to see what their schedule is like.”  

He was satisfied with the victory, no matter how small.

“Is there anything else?” The words felt hollow as they left your mouth. He looked away, shaking his head in disbelief.

“No, I guess not,” he said in defeat. You felt terrible. There were so many things you wanted to tell him, but saying them out loud would only serve to stoke the wildfire you so desperately wanted to put out.

“I’ll see you next week in Abu Dhabi,” you said meekly. You left the room, ending the exchange in a stalemate with neither party satisfied.

Taglist: @ravenqueen27 @leslizzle @zendayabelova @eitak-t @chiliwhore @wewoo1233

[ingravinoveritas]

What do you make of David sayin he’s an ally, not an active participant (in queer subcultures)?

Did he come out as straight? I’m not sure anyone has ever asked him directly, not that he needs to give any explanations, I’m just curious because he gives off such a queer vibe even when he’s been married forever.

https://www.attitude.co.uk/culture/david-tennant-on-the-spice-girls-spiceworld-movie-was-being-developed-before-they-even-released-a-single-459815/

Oh, my Asks/DMs have been blowing up over this one. I did have a chance to read this interview with David (is it me, or is he doing nonstop press lately?) and...wow. Definitely enjoyable, and noticeably more unhinged/queer than most of his other interviews (which makes sense, given that Attitude is an LGBTQ-focused publication). But let's get a screenshot up of the most talked about bit, so we can discuss:

Obviously there is a lot going on here, so I'm just going to go with what stood out to me most. I don't think there is anything in the world less surprising than David naming bears first, given certain preferences of his (which I've discussed several times previously on my blog).

What's really interesting though is that the question was asking about queer subcultures, but all of the ones David listed are used primarily (AFAIK, though someone please do correct me if I am wrong) in mlm/gay male relationships. "Queer" can be many things, after all--gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, ace--and yet when David heard "queer subcultures" he specifically went for the mlm/gay ones, and that definitely feels like an interesting choice.

The second thing that I felt was worth discussing is that a lot of the reactions I've seen to this is people saying how adorably clueless David is, or how "he's a little confused, but he's got the spirit." And I'm sort of perplexed by this because we are talking about an almost 53-year-old man here, and I believe he knows damn well what all of those terms/subcultures are.

It's been brought to my attention (from what I would consider a very trustworthy source) that David is not at all as technologically illiterate as he pretends to be. Instead, it's actually part of a persona that he puts on to avoid dealing with issues that would arise from people knowing he is online. I had an inkling of this just from Georgia saying David was the one who set up all the equipment for when they filmed Staged at home (because why would such a task be put in the hands of someone who is hopeless with technology?). But having this confirmed also aligns with David creating a fake personal assistant in the early days of his career so he wouldn't have to fulfill certain social obligations, and to put a barrier between his real self and the world.

So why, then, wouldn't the same pattern possibly apply here?

I know there also tends to be this image of David as a "bumbling, goofy dad" type, and that's definitely part of him and what makes him so charming. But I don't think he is a fool, either--especially not after listening to him talk about Shakespeare or politics or anything else at length--and I think he certainly knows how to answer these types of questions. I think David is more than clever enough to give answers that are cheeky but not revealing, because he knows the purpose of all this is to promote the BAFTAs, not to be a deep, probing exposé on the life and times of David Tennant.

Which then brings me to the big, gay elephant standing in the middle of the room--a.k.a., "I'm an ally rather than an active participant." (Again...so many interesting word choices going on here, and none of it feels like an accident.)

Going back to what I mentioned about the focus of these interviews, I'd like to point out one notable thing that David himself said in the Radio Times interview earlier this week:

This, I think, sums up what we are seeing in all of these interviews: The version of David that he feels is safe to present to the world. He makes it clear as well that he is not going to reveal areas of his personal life while up on stage, and I would say that the same thing applies to these interviews. (It also speaks volumes that in the year 2024, the version of himself he feels safe presenting in these interviews is one who fully knows what bears and twinks--sorry, twinkies--are.)

So no, I don't think David is coming out as straight. I don't think he's coming out as anything, in fact, because he knows these interviews are not the place for that to happen. And I think that saying he is an ally but not an active participant makes the most sense as an answer for a public interview, but neither that nor being in a straight-passing relationship necessarily makes him any less potentially queer.

To reiterate what I said above, there is no one way to be queer. For some people, being queer absolutely can mean going to leather bars and participating in subcultures. But for other people, "queer" can mean something very different. It can mean being a Kinsey 2 just floating along doing your thing until you meet that one person who changes everything. The person who makes you go, "I've usually been more into this and not as much into this...but I'm definitely into you." It can mean being attracted to/falling for someone--a co-star, maybe?--that you never expected to feel that way about. And if David is queer, maybe that also means not shying away from anything, but at the same time not wanting to take the spotlight off the awards and the nominees celebrating one of the most important nights of their lives.

Those are my thoughts on the Attitude interview and David's answers, at any rate. Happy as always to hear from my followers with your takes. Thank you for writing in! x

[wyntereyez]

Wool of bat and tongue of dog

Thanks to @jrob64 for the banner! It's perfect.

Here's the first part of my @cssns contribution. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but thanks to me being a terminal procrastinator combined with a very busy two weeks at work, my brain can't word very well at the moment.

Part One

The door to the Storybrooke Bat Rehabilitation Center was unlocked.

Emma immediately went on the alert. Mary Margaret had left over an hour ago, and she’d never have forgotten to lock the door behind her. After Walsh and the events of the previous month, Emma had taken to bringing her gun with her. She could see Mary Maragaret’s frown whenever she spotted it, but Emma refused to be alone without it. 

Not when she was a potential target for the supernatural.

And now, it looked like her fears were well-founded, because there was something inside the building that definitely wasn’t a bat. Emma had inched the door open, holding her breath so she could listen. She could hear something moving in the lobby, by the reception desk.

A deep, resonating growl that made a primal part of Emma want to scream and flee. Her grip tightened on the gun, and she started to raise it.

Then an annoyed chittering followed, which was interrupted by a yip of indignation. Supernatural, all right, but familiar.

Emma holstered the pistol and stepped inside.

A massive wolf was crouched next to the desk, eyes locked on the large fruit bat perched on the edge. The bat raised his head and made delighted squeaks, and the wolf offered a wag of the tail before turning her snarling muzzle back to the bat.

“No supernatural turf wars before I’ve had my coffee,” Emma grumbled. She picked Killian up and plopped him down atop the startled Ruby’s back, then headed towards the breakroom. Ruby padded along after, Killian clinging to her shoulders for dear life.

They both waited patiently as Emma brewed a pot of coffee. While she waited, she grabbed the fruit bowl from the fridge and offered it to Killian, who daintily grabbed a slice of banana and half a strawberry. Ruby’s tongue flicked out, snatching two melon cubes and getting saliva all over the fruit, making Killian shriek in indignation. Emma sighed. “Can we use human words now, please?”

The fruit bat clumsily pulled himself to Ruby’s side, then released his grip on her fur. If he’d been a normal crippled bat, Emma would have dove to rescue him. But the bat never hit the ground; instead, a leather-clad man crouched next to the massive wolf.

Ruby licked his face, smearing melon and saliva on his cheek. Killian sputtered, and she trotted off, making a noise that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

“How’d you piss her off this time?” Emma asked as she added cream and sugar to her coffee.

“What makes you think I’m responsible, Swan?” Killian pouted as he straightened. His hook gleamed in the fluorescent light.

“You turned into something small, helpless, and cute to argue with her,” Emma pointed out. 

“Which wasn’t enough to prevent me from being angry with you,” Ruby said as she re-entered the break room on two legs.

Now that Emma was in on her secret, Ruby had taken to leaving spare clothes at the Belfry in case of unexpected transformations. She returned shortly in human form, wearing a red T-shirt and black leggings. Her feet were bare, toes caked with dirt from her run. She made a beeline for the coffee pot.

“You’re late tonight,” Ruby commented. “Did something happen?”

“I spent all day at the Town Hall.” Emma couldn’t hold back her groan. “You wouldn’t think it would be so difficult to select an interim mayor. They just need someone to hold the position until an election can be held.”

The mayor had been found dead of a heart attack in his office two days previous, throwing the city council into an uproar. It was a headache that Emma really didn’t need. Especially since there was one member of the council famous for disagreeing with everything, and he’d loudly shot down every candidate. Several of the city council members were friends of his, and tended to follow his lead, which led to deadlocked votes. “He’s going to drive me insane,” Emma sighed.

“Leroy?” Ruby hazarded.

“Yep. Had an argument for everything. By the time the meeting was called, the council still hadn’t chosen anyone, and I almost went to the Rabbit Hole instead of coming here.”

“Sounds worse than vampire politics,” Killian snorted. “Though I imagine there’s less blood.”

“You’d be surprised,” Emma slumped into a chair, her exhaustion finally getting to her. “So what were you two fighting about?” 

Killian and Ruby exchanged glances. “A deer,” they said in unison. 

Emma rubbed the bridge of her nose, already sorry she asked. This was going to add to her headache. “And why was this particular deer so important? We’re surrounded by woods, there are hundreds of them around.

“I was hunting it, of course. A vampire can’t live on strawberries alone. And deer’s blood can sustain me for more than a week.”

“You didn’t have to choose my prey!” Ruby’s voice had developed a snarl not unlike her wolf’s vocalizations. “I’d been stalking that deer for more than an hour!”

“It was the only deer I’d scented for miles,” Killian defended. “And unlike you, I need live prey.”

Emma tensed, suddenly reminded that she was dealing with two supernatural predators. She reminded herself she’d seen Killian in bat form with his face buried up to his eyes in fruit, and that she’d once half-carried a drunken Ruby home. They were predators, but they had softer sides. Hell, she’d known Ruby since high school.

Ruby scowled and turned the other chair backwards, so she could sit on it with her chin resting on the headrest. She continued to glare at Killian.

“This isn’t your usual night for hunting.” Killian usually chose the nights where no one stayed overnight to go out.

“True; but that storm that’s brewing is going to hang around for a few days. I don’t fancy hunting in the rain.”

“Same reason I was out,” Ruby nodded. “I needed to get a good run in before being cooped up the next few nights. And deer are one of my favorite meals.”

Emma abruptly burst out laughing. At Killian and Ruby’s matching looks of bewilderment, she explained, “Sorry, I just thought about how it must look, seeing Killian stalk a deer when he’s dressed like a pirate.”

“He hunts as a wolf,” Ruby growled. “Which makes him a trespasser on my territory.”

“You can turn into a wolf?!” Emma asked incredulously, then wondered why she was so shocked. She’d been dealing with the existence of the supernatural for nearly a month now; she should be used to this, right?

“Aye,” Killian said, “vampires can become any creature of the night. Though we’re far more impressive than weres.” 

Emma wondered what was considered a ‘creature of the night’, especially since she knew wolves were frequently active during the day. Could he become an opossum? A raccoon? Maybe a cricket?

Vampire crickets, now there was a thought.

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Vampiric wolves look like how wolves were traditionally depicted: all snaggly teeth and glowing eyes. Werewolves, on the other hand, are perfect specimens of wolf: lithe and muscular, swift as the wind.”

“So… you’re like the goths and jocks of the wolf community?” Emma took a sip of her coffee to hide her amusement as she watched Ruby sputter indignantly. Killian simply smirked, flashing that chipped fang.

“Perhaps we should continue our tale, lass, before we end up at each other’s throats, aye?” Killian said softly, and Ruby calmed.

“Yeah.” Ruby shook her head as though to dispel the last vestiges of wolf. 

The change in tone put Emma on immediate alert. “What happened out there?”

“Something spooked the deer badly enough that it turned around and fled past us,” Killian said. 

Oh. That didn’t sound good. Emma set her coffee aside, suddenly too nauseous to finish it. “Did you investigate?”

“Yeah,” Ruby said. “We followed the deer’s path, and soon we could smell what had frightened it. It was…wrong. It made my hackles rise, and I was growling without even knowing at what. Killian and I crept forward, and that’s when we found it.”

“An altar,” they said in unison.

Ah. Emma doubted they meant the kind you’d find in a church. “Oh?” Her coffee was getting cold, she noted as she took a lingering sip.

“A witch’s ritual altar,” Killian clarified, staring at her intensely. 

“A witch? Of course they’re real, too,” Emma sighed. “How worried about this should we be?”

“I’m not sure yet. I need a better look at the altar and the sigils around it to get an idea of what sort of ritual was performed.”

“So you’re an expert in witches now?” Ruby arched a brow.

“No, but I can ask people who are, and for that, I need photos. We need to get back out there immediately and photograph the site.”

Neither would have had access to their phones’ cameras, of course. Ruby would have been a wolf, and while Killian could transform clothes along with his body, it only seemed to be the archaic black leather outfit he favored when he wasn’t pretending to be human. Objects like his phone or wallet didn’t survive the transformation.

“Swan, I’d like you to come along as well; I want to see how you react to the magic.”

When Walsh had tried to compel Emma, he’d discovered that she was immune to his vampiric powers. This intrigued Killian, because it was a very rare gift not found in pure humans. He was determined to figure out just what was in her bloodline.

Emma was less enthused about this. She didn’t have any interest in parents that had abandoned her as a baby. She only cared about David and his mother Ruth, who had taken her in when she was a feral street child and given her a home and love.

Plus, she really didn’t want to walk around the woods after dark. There might be ticks or something.

“Now? It’s almost midnight!” And the moon was only a crescent, meaning it would be dark as pitch outside.

“Aye, but there’s a storm rolling in. All the evidence will be washed away by morning. Likely by design,” Killian said.

Reluctantly, Emma grabbed her coat from the closet while Ruby went off to change back into a wolf. Despite the protection of a large wolf and a vampire, Emma felt a thrill of fear as they stepped away from The Belfry’s exterior lights and to the edge of the forest beyond.

Her flashlight did little to help.

“So… tell me about witches,” Emma said. “Just how dangerous are they?”

“Most witches are benign,” Killian corrected, surprising her. “Just women gifted with knowledge and a bit of magic. Many of them end up in positions where they can use their gifts to help others: doctors and nurses, veterinarians, financial advisors, that sort of thing. Some are hide amongst charlatans, using real magic and divination to tell futures or speak with the dead, though those are rare. Mostly, they just live among humans, leading normal - though perhaps luckier - lives.

“True practitioners of the black arts are rare. They’re hunted by their own kind, in much the same way I take care of out of control vampires. This one… the scent of her magic is rotten.”

“What can someone with that kind of magic do?”

Killian scratched his cheek with the tip of his hook as he thought. “They can create curses, give others ill luck, or even kill without touching their victim. We won’t know much more until my expert has had a look.”

There was silence for a while after that, as Emma tried to fit this into her already shaken worldview. Finally, she decided it was just too much for one night, and turned her thoughts to something else.

“Henry really enjoyed visiting your ship the other day. It’s all he’s been talking about ever since.” Henry’s class had taken a day to tour the ‘real’ pirate ship (which was, in fact, a very real pirate ship, captained by a very real pirate), and he’d come home asking for sailing lessons. Not possible so late into the season, but she’d promised him that if he was still interested next year, she’d look into it.

“He’s a fine lad,” Killian told her. “Smart, and curious about everything. I’d be delighted to teach him some sailing basics, if…”

If you give me a reason to stick around, Emma knew he was thinking. Because Emma knew it was more than the threat of a rogue vampire that kept Killian living as a bat in Storybrooke. And three nights ago, Killian had finally made his move to see if there could be anything between them.

“So, Swan, are you looking forward to tomorrow night?”

Ahead, Ruby slowed, canting back one ear. Emma thought at first something had put her on alert; then she realized her friend was eavesdropping.

Right. Tomorrow. When she and Killian had dinner reservations for Bella Notte. Their first date.

She’d never been so nervous.

She wanted to date Killian. But her violent introduction to the world of vampires had left her cautious. Even Ruby’s reassurance that vampire society worked as Killian had described, with strict laws and enforcers that carried out ruthless punishments for lawbreakers, she’d still been wary.

Walsh had been terrifying, but he’d been newly-turned. Weak. Killian was centuries old and powerful.

He also squeaked at her petulantly if she gave him banana slices when he wanted strawberries.

The rumbles of thunder that had begun when night fell were growing louder, and Emma was beginning to worry they wouldn’t make it to the altar in time. But after forty-five minutes of what felt to Emma like random stumbling around in the dark, Ruby let out a sharp bark.

“We’re here,” Killian said unnecessarily. Because Emma could feel the change in the air, something that made her hair stand on end. 

“The hell?” she asked.

“So you do feel it,” Killian sounded as if she’d just confirmed something for him.

How could anyone not feel that? It was a miasma that pressed against her, threatening to smother her.

She fought down the urge to claw at her skin, and forced herself to examine the altar.

If Emma had been walking through the woods alone, she never would have seen it - or at least not realized it wasn’t a natural formation. She ran the flashlight beam over a tree that had been split in half, probably by a lightning strike. One half had fallen to the side, the other was still attached to the stump, but bent at a ninety degree angle to form a natural table just over knee height.

The split trunk was spotted with dark stains. A fragment of bone was caught in a furrow in wood.

“I’ll hold the torch if you’ll take the photos,” Killian offered. Emma handed the flashlight over, and he directed her to photograph the altar, as well as the sigils she’d missed at first look. The were carved into the ground, or painted onto the trunks of surrounding trees with the same fluid that had stained the altar.

Killian was thorough. Emma wondered if he was like this with all investigations, because she could use someone like him in the Sheriff’s Department.

Thunder boomed, and Emma and Ruby jumped. “Storm’s almost here,” Killian observed. “We’d better leave now, before we’re caught out in it.”

They only just managed to make it back to The Belfry before the sky opened up. Emma was soaked through by the time she managed to unlock the door, and Ruby reeked of wet dog. Killian, she noted, managed to look ridiculously good even when wet.

The rain pounded away into the night, and Emma shivered. She hoped it would be enough to wash away the taint of evil in the forest.

~oOo~

The stranger stank of dark magic.

Emma had been in the back office of the sheriff’s station, taking care of paperwork, when David had called her up front.

Grateful to escape her papery hell, she’d hurried up front - only to be brought up short by the elegant woman in the immaculate business suit who was ignoring David’s attempts to be friendly. Emma, however, immediately drew her interest.

Dark eyes ran up and down Emma, and perfect lips turned down into a frown, as if she’d found Emma lacking. “Can I help you?” she asked stiffly.

“I just wanted to introduce myself. My name is Regina Mills,” the woman said haughtily. “I’m the new mayor of Storybrooke.”

~tbc~