#i immediately knew what i would draw the second i looked at that prompt honestly xD the potential for fluff for this ship is insane<333

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

AFTERMARE WEEK: day 2- discovery/lost

lost into those eyes of yours i realized, there was nothing that could be done to still my beating heart

aftermare week is hosted by @bluepallilworld

[suzukiblu]

If you feel up for it, for the writing meme prompt, Clark Kent/Lex Luthor, with the song You And Me by Lifehouse? If it's not your thing I totally get it though and hope you have a great time and fun writing the things that do catch your fancy!

I think we ALL knew that I was gonna do baby Kon for this, lbr. Also ngl, this came out way more cracky than the prompt would suggest it should've but it is absolutely my favorite thing I’ve written for this meme so far, as the necessity for the following cut should help attest, haha.

Unfortunately, Lex takes one look at Cadmus’s progress report on the newly-crafted Experiment Thirteen and realizes he has paternal instincts. 

Well, that’s inconvenient. And a little disgusting, honestly. Certainly a disappointment. 

He supposes it could be worse. He could be Lionel about this. 

Anyway, that’s how he has a physiological four year-old on his lap when he hears the news about Superman coming back to life and fistfighting an evil cyborg with his own face about it, because of course the man didn’t have the decency to just stay dead. Why would he, after all? 

Lex needs a drink. That would be a bad example for the physiological four year-old, though. 

Then again, Experiment Thirteen should be completely immune to the effects of Earth-based alcohol in about another four to six months of consistent yellow sun exposure, so . . . 

Lex is halfway through his second brandy when Superman shows up on his balcony at super-speed wearing a very pretentiously dramatic black suit and looking both winded and bewildered. And still alive, unfortunately. 

“Don’t you have a murderous cyborg to be ensuring is in custody?” Lex asks dryly, deciding to just not acknowledge the presence of the physiological four year-old who’s moved on to messily but methodically coloring on the floor underneath his desk. Lex didn’t actually give Experiment Thirteen either a coloring book or crayons, mind, but he appreciates the clone’s resourcefulness in breaking into the office supplies. Anyway, it’s useful for developing its hand-eye coordination and fine motor control. 

Superman’s pupils are pin-pricks, barely even there at all. Which is an unusual reaction from him, and Lex notes that fact reflexively but doesn’t particularly care about it. Meant-to-be-dead people do unusual things, especially the alien ones. And it isn’t as if–

“Baby,” Superman blurts, his eyes wide. 

Lex . . . pauses. Takes a slow sip of his brandy. 

Alright then. 

“Yes, I’ve noticed,” he settles on eventually, raising an eyebrow at him. Experiment Thirteen peers out from under the desk, immediately decides Superman isn’t an interesting presence, and then goes back to coloring all over Lex’s floor. It seems to be drawing either a puppy or a chain of complex genetic sequencing, but judging by the kinds of things it’s been drawing so far, it’s fifty-fifty. Lex has been getting the impression the clone actually likes art, which is a baffling interest to find in his own progeny, but how does that quote go . . . “I am a warrior, so that my son may be a merchant, so that his son may be a poet”? 

Or something like that, anyway. 

“No, I–baby,” Superman stresses, looking bewildered as he floats down a little closer to the open balcony door. 

“. . . yes, I’ve noticed,” Lex repeats, raising his eyebrow again and taking another sip of brandy. Superman looks frazzled, bobbing up a little higher in the air again to get a better view of Experiment Thirteen under the desk. Experiment Thirteen keeps ignoring him in favor of its coloring, displaying no apparent interest in the most powerful uninvited guest in the history of illegal immigration. Lex experiences a moment of overwhelming paternal pride, which is such a bizarre and unanticipated experience that he doesn’t even know what to do with it. 

“Where’d he come from?” Superman asks with a wondering expression. Ugh.

“A cloning lab,” Lex replies dismissively, setting his near-empty glass down on the desk. It’s hardly worth lying about Experiment Thirteen’s origins at this point. He didn’t want to murder everyone in Cadmus to keep the secret. He might need them if there’s an issue with Experiment Thirteen’s genetics later, after all. “We mixed it up a couple weeks ago while you were off wasting everyone’s time being dead."

“You had my baby?” Superman says, tilting in the air and still staring at Experiment Thirteen, as if he's somehow forgotten both how much kryptonite Lex owns and how much kryptonite he keeps specifically in this office. “While I was dead. You had my baby while I was dead.” 

. . . alright then, Lex thinks again, both eyebrows raising this time. 

“I really wouldn’t put it that way, personally,” he says. “Also, I don’t recall saying it was in any way yours.”

“Baby,” Superman repeats inanely, then lands on the floor and ducks down into a crouch to peer under the desk better, his pupils still reduced to barely-there pinpricks. Lex is so mystified he doesn't even activate the security system or the weaponized red sun lamps. Experiment Thirteen frowns at Superman–Lex, again, basks in unanticipated paternal pride–and then turns its back on him and hides all its drawings from him as seriously and carefully as if they were under NDA. 

It's almost adorable, frankly. 

Not that Lex finds things adorable, of course. 

“His heartbeat's so cute,” Superman says, looking absolutely fascinated. Which is surprisingly useful of him to mention, actually, since Lex had previously been vaguely concerned that Experiment Thirteen's odd thrumming heartbeat might be a sign of a heart defect, but apparently it’s just a Kryptonian thing. A . . . “cute” Kryptonian thing, according to Superman. 

Lex is increasingly mystified by this interaction. 

“Can’t say I’ve spent much time listening to it, personally,” he lies, because he has in fact obsessed over that heartbeat’s health and stability since first finding out about its unusualness and has done a truly aggravating amount of research into heart murmurs and conditions and the like. But that’s hardly Superman’s business, now is it. 

“. . . what’s his name?” Superman asks hesitantly. Lex is possibly having an out of body experience. 

“Experiment Thirteen,” he says. Superman immediately looks offended. 

“We need to give him a name, Lex,” he says. Lex, again, has an out of body experience. 

“‘We’?” he repeats incredulously. “I made it, I get to decide what it’s called.” 

“He’s got my DNA!” Superman protests, looking indignant. Lex has absolutely no idea how to process that expression. 

“It has both our DNA, in fact, yours was too irritating to stabilize alone,” Lex informs him dubiously. More accurately it was literally impossible to stabilize alone, but he’s not mentioning that to Superman. “So it has my DNA, and I made it. And also put eight point two billion dollars into its production, as a lowball estimate. Therefore I’m the one who decides what its name is, thank you very much.” 

“Lex,” Superman says disapprovingly. “You can’t call a baby Experiment Thirteen.” 

“It’s physiologically developed enough to complain if it doesn’t like it,” Lex retorts, narrowing his eyes at him. Superman frowns at him. Lex has never had a more ridiculous conversation with the man, including all the times Superman’s tried to appeal to his nonexistent “better nature”. “Well it is.” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Superman says, then ducks back down and peers at Experiment Thirteen again, gentling his voice to address it while Lex is still incredulously mouthing “ridiculous”? to himself. “Would you like a real name, kiddo?” 

Experiment Thirteen sticks its tongue out at him. 

Lex is finding parenthood to be a very rewarding experience, actually. 

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (9)

ATEEZ ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: None

A/N I have changed the updating schedule to every other day because I started on a new story. It's a BTS one if you wanna go check it out! It only has one chapter but I will be putting out more when I got more chapters. Please Enjoy the chapter!

Towards the end of the day, when your family was getting ready to head out, you felt content with yourself. Having spent the morning with Jongho and Wooyoung really brightened up your day. Getting the chance to speak to people outside of the customers and your family gave you a feeling of fulfillment. Or possibly it could have been the fact that you enjoyed the attention the boys gave you. Not like it was crossing your mind much.

Seonghwa was cleaning up the bar as usual, the Thursday evening settling in as more people trickled in and out groaning about Friday being tomorrow. Jongho had been moving about, waiting for Seonghwa to finish up before they left to meet up with the others. Yeosang had also been finishing up his work, the day coming to an end for them all.

You helped Seonghwa wash and dry dishes, carefully taking them from the handsome man and placing them onto the rack. Jongho glanced over all of you, making small talk to have the time pass faster. 

“Don't let Wooyoung scare you.” He had said to you. “He's all bark no bite.”

The topic of the extroverted man was brought up when Seonghwa had asked how your day went. Jongho had been the one to tell him they had run into the member, which prompted a worried Seonghwa to ask if it had been okay for the boy to go out alone. Jongho then went on to say it had been the captain who told him to go out. 

From there, Jongho had begun the conversation about how Wooyoung wanted to meet the girl personally. It caused Seonghwa to laugh and point out that being rejected wasn’t really something Wooyoung was used to. At least not when it came to women. 

“Who said I was scared?” You grinned. 

“Wooyoung is the last one you should be scared of.” Seonghwa snorted, wiping down the counter when he finished with the glasses. 

“Who's the first?” You asked, tilting your head. 

“I think you know the answer.” The man hummed. 

The blue haired man suddenly popped up in your head, causing you to go stiff for a moment. There wasn’t a moment you wouldn’t spend your day idly moving about and catching sight of the wanted posters stapled around. Every time you saw the large hat the picture of Mingi had you would immediately be reminded of the man. You also hadn’t taken notice but there was also a wanted poster for the captain. However from what you could notice it seemed to be of lesser crimes compared to Mingi. 

You knew no one was going to be able to notice them if they were to dress differently. A wanted drawing poster wasn’t the same as a still picture that was able to capture their actual looks. Really it did them no justice, the only noticeable aspects were what they wore and maybe some features. But honestly if you were to pass them on the street you wouldn’t assume they were outlaws if they dressed like citizens. 

Thinking about the two you were reminded of the others you had yet to speak to properly. Yunho has been staying the same amount as Jongho but compared to the younger male, you hardly saw him much. He spent most of his time conversing with the captain which led you to think he was the second in command of sorts. 

San was a quiet man from what you got every time you saw him. He did what he was told and followed instructions with a neutral facial expression. However from the time you had worked with him on Mingi, you could remember his busted up knuckles that had long time scars. Compared to everyone else, he looked to be the most frightening with an attitude that clearly did not take anything from others. 

“When can I go?” You spoke up. 

“Go where?” Jongho asked, sipping on his drink.

“To meet you all.” You explained. “Properly.”

“Why would you wanna do that?” The sound of Yeosang’s voice brought you all to turn to the man. He strutted his way in, moving behind the bar to stand at your side. He had a teasing grin on his face as he placed a hand on the wood. 

“What? Don't tell me you actually want to keep me away?” You squint your eyes up at him. 

“Maybe for just a bit longer.” He whispered to you. 

You began to purse your lips as you looked anywhere that wasn’t Yeosang’s eyes. You felt the blush starting on your face which caused you to look down. A smile was threatening to overtake your face, something you always did when you were feeling flustered over something. Chuckling the man’s teasing words off, you looked at the other two.

“Where's Yunho?” You asked, trying to steer the conversation away from your state. 

“He went to meet with the sheriff. Talk about some things with him.” Jongho answered.

You hummed, eyes drifting away from them. They all shared a glance with each other, but Jongho had already noticed your ticks when it came to certain things. You were holding back from asking what you wanted. He once again thought you were scared of them which seemed to bother him. 

He couldn’t remember the last time any of them spent talking with people that wasn’t their own group. Most often Hongjoong would just scold them for even thinking they could befriend citizens or even other gang members. His captain had issues when it came to trusting people but that didn’t hinder them from trying to form bonds. 

It was hard to find people with common interests, at least ones who won’t rob you blind in the dead of night. Nobody was as open minded as they cared to say. It wasn’t the right era for them to live among people who saw them as heroes. 

However, you didn’t seem to mind. At least not with the way you would speak to all of them. You already knew the bluntness of the problem. They were criminals in the eyes of the community but you didn’t treat them any differently. And if Jongho could say, you did change your demeanor much more after learning the way they actually worked as a gang. 

So thinking that you were still scared of saying the wrong thing bother him to no end.

“You know. You keep saying you're not very good at hiding your emotions and I can see it now.” The younger male told you.

“I never said I was trying to keep them hidden.” You retorted.

“Why don't you ask what you want to then?” Jongho had started to lean over the bar, getting closer to you. 

“Would you give answers if I asked them?” You immediately said.

“Not fully.” Soenghwa spoke up from your side. “You're not normal.” He added. 

“So I've been told my whole life.” You smiled sarcastically. “You're a group of outlaws and criminals in the eyes of the public. You're not going to just give up everything to a person you just met.”

Your statement made Jongho sit up straight in his seat. His shoulders lost their tension learning that it wasn’t because you were scared of them. Though thinking over your words he noticed you were so much different than what he thought of. You were open minded sure, but you were also smart with the decisions you made. 

“You're very understanding. It's frightening how well you know what to say to others.” Yeosang said.

“I didn't have many friends. I don't go out often.” You shrugged, a frown on your face. “All that time I have is spent dreaming up things no one else would. Besides, I've lived long enough to know that gangs are not people you want to be friends with.”

“And yet here you are.” Seonghwa spoke up.

“Well we've all established that I'm not like others.” You went back to your chores, rearranging the bottles of liquor on the shelves. 

They all shared a look with one another once more. It was obvious they had never come across someone like you. They have expressed on multiple occasions that the way you acted was not something they found to be a nuisance. They liked your spirit, much more than they have ever liked anyone else's. There were a lot of people out there who had your spunk but when the time came down to it were they really going to spend the time to get to know them?

Who knows how many rejections each one of them have had when it came to friendships. Don’t even bother to think about a relationship. They had only each other to lean on for a long while. The past couple of years were not easy for them, far from it. You felt like a breath of fresh air to them. It gave them hope that one day others would see them as people who were just trying to fit in the world. 

“Tomorrow.” Yeosang called. 

“What about it?” You asked, turning to him.

“We'll take you to meet the others.” Seonghwa told you. “You're too perfect to not let them know you.”

Aside from the happy smile that grew on your face at knowing you were going to see the others, a blush bloomed as well. The way he had called you perfect made your heart skip a beat. There weren’t many people who would compliment you in such a way. You had your admirers who would come by and say you had the beauty of a goddess but oftentimes ended up retracting their offers of going out when you opened your mouth. You never really made it out of the talking phase with men. 

Hearing someone like Seonghwa call you perfect really made your heart soar and your stomach to squeeze with butterflies. It was something you weren’t used to but also something you wanted to hear more of. Not that you would ever tell them. 

 You scrunched up your nose when you heard Jongho laugh. 

“She's blushing.” Yeosang pushed himself off the bar, moving to stand closer to you to see your red face.

“I'll be damned. Pretty girl, likes compliments.” Seonghwa laughed, his hands moving to hold your cheeks.

“Seonghwa!” You scolded, moving your face away when the man cooed at you.

“Write that down, Jongho.” Yeosang laughed, causing the deputy to chuckle as he watched you become even more flustered. 

“I have work to do.” You could hear their laughs as you stormed away.

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred

[babyboiboyega]

Not what I Heard (Matt Murdock x GN!reader)

A/N: Hiatus who?? Hiatus where?? Nah, just kidding; definitely still on a hiatus. I just got a very strange boost of motivation and wrote out this very short drabble that I think is really adorable

ENJOY THIS SHORT MATT MURDOCK, FLUFF, CUTE AS HELL DRABBLE I DID

Matt Murdock x GN!reader

Content: fluff, no use of y/n

Babyboiboyega’s Marvel Masterlist

Babyboiboyega’s Masterlist of Masterlists

It had slipped out, purely on accident; a result of hearing that Matt would be home earlier than usual and the excitement that it caused. You hadn’t even noticed the impact of your words until he had stopped, his eyebrows furrowing as his head tilted slightly. 

“What did you just say?”

You paused, directing a questioning gaze at him before replaying the words you had just spoken. The realization made your eyes widen.

“I…I think I said ‘I’ll see you at home.” You nodded once as if he could see you, and in an effort to make yourself more sure of the lie you had just come up with, you nodded again. 

Matt’s lips started to curl at the corners, and before long, a full blown grin was on his face. He pushed back from his desk, standing and walking around it until he stood right in front of you. 

You couldn’t have calmed your racing heartbeat if you tried; and even if you could, he’d have already picked up on it. Almost a year together and he still had this effect on you. 

Damn him and his charming grin, and his perfect lips, and his stupid suit, and his glasses-

“That’s not what I heard.” 

“‘That’s not what I heard’; well between us two, one of us makes it a habit to get punched repeatedly in the head, so maybe your hearing isn’t as good as you think it-oof-.”

In one smooth motion, he leaned back against his desk while grabbing your hands and pulling you with him. A huff left your mouth as your chest connected with his, but you couldn’t stop your own smile from forming.

“No, my hearing is just fine. And I know what I heard. Just like how I can hear your heart rate increasing right now.” He emphasized his words by guiding your hands to rest on his shoulders before letting his trail down your sides, lowering to your hips, and squeezing affectionately. Your eyes narrowed at him and the game he was playing.

“Matthew, we’re in your office. There are people outside.”

“Foggy and Karen went to get lunch. It’s just us.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to participate in this…delinquency.”

You lightly pinched his shoulder and he flinched dramatically, immediately easing your worries with the way his smile grew. Instead of pulling his hands back, he only pulled you closer until he could rest his chin on the center of your stomach. Without thinking, one of your hands raised and landed in his hair, lightly drawing your nails across his scalp. You may not have had his super hearing, but you felt the pleasant chill that raked his body at your actions, prompting you to continue with your motions.

“Delinquent or not, it doesn’t make any difference, because…”

His words trailed off and you furrowed your eyebrows. Your hand in his hair stopped, but all it took was a gentle nudge into the palm of your hand for you to continue.

“Because…of what?”

He seemed to be savoring the seconds between your question and the words he knew were about to come out of his mouth, but all the silence did was make you grow nervous. The look on his face could only be described as blissful, and anybody in his shoes would attest that “blissful” was the only word to describe this moment.

Matt was sitting in an amalgamation of sensations that emphasized your presence, something he could honestly sit in all day and night. Your signature scent that had a mixture of your soap and just a hint of his apartment paired with the feeling of your nails slightly dragging against his scalp almost had his eyes fluttering closed beneath his glasses. The steady rising and falling of your stomach made his slightly uncomfortable position worth it. But as much as he wanted to stay in the moment, he had to do something.

“Matthew Michael Murdock, because of what?”

“Sweetheart, can you take my glasses?” 

He could practically taste your confusion as you complied with what he asked, gently removing his glasses and setting them on his desk behind him. Your hands cupped his face and you let your thumbs rub across the stubble dotting his cheeks; a movement that was as natural as breathing to you.

Matt’s eyes radiated such a strong look of adoration and…love that it made your breath hitch. His smile softened.

“Just wanted you to see my eyes when I say…that I love you, too. More than anything.”

He didn’t need his sight to know that the smile that had taken over your lips was blinding in its entirety.

************************

Hope you all enjoyed this! Hopefully things will get to a point where my motivation is a little better and I can post more! I’m definitely continuing to write; but what I write is solely for my enjoyment, and I don’t exactly feel all that comfortable putting them out to the public.

What I can remind yall of is my other, other account (@finnlandiaaa) which is where I post what I write in my free time if its in “script” form (still have not found another name to call it). I literally only have one piece up on there, BUT it’d be cool if you check it out!

[grippingbeskar]

Hi! May I please request 🚕 10 with Obi-Wan? Thank you!!

— yes! ofc you may! i hope you are okay with the ‘period’ sickness way i took this, i have my period rn and needed some obi wan comfort 😭

— prompt:

🚕 10. first time being sick/them being sick around each other

— warnings: mention of periods, swearing, vomiting, cramps :(

[grippingbeskar’s 2k night out celebration!]

“Please. Don’t come in.” You sigh, voice ringing out from where your head hangs over the toilet bowel. You had been so in and out all day— waking up only to puke and cry about the cramps seizing your lower stomach, only to pass out again, that it had completed slipped your mind that you had a meeting with the council today.

What hadn’t slipped your mind, something you were painfully aware of now that he knocked on your door, was that Obi-Wan had asked to come and see you first. You only had limited time with each other— both of you needing to keep this thing that was going on between you as low profile as possible. It was confusing— but honestly, a long time coming, but whatever it was, it did not mean you wanted him to see you like this.

“Is something wrong? Did something happen today? I read the report on the way here— I didn’t see your name.” Of course, he knew you were meant to also attend the diplomatic conference with Naboo this morning, which you missed, too busy hurling up whatever remained in your stomach.

“I’m—“ You spluttered, coughing against your will, throat sore from the endless day behind you. “I’m sick. Just… you don’t want to see me right now.”

“Sick? Do you wants me to call a medical droid?” You already had. There was nothing they could do, really— this wasn’t the kind of sick they could heal. This was normal for you, every month you spent the first day or two of your period like this, but it’s never affected your work before. Never caused you to miss a meeting with the council, of all people. All the medical droid did was give you something for the pain, and a sedative so you could at least get an hour or two of sleep.

“It’s… not that kind of sick, Obi-Wan.” You expected him to back away, or be at least awkward enough to leave you alone, even though you wanted the exact opposite. You just couldn’t bare the embarrassment, really, of making him feel uncomfortable. You heard no receding footsteps, and if he hadn’t spoken you would of thought you were alone.

“Let me help you.” He spoke softly, words making your eyes flutter open with how much care he spoke with.

“You really don’t have to. I know you want to go to the meeting—“

“Stars, no. It would be terribly boring without you.” Even when you feel like your insides are shredding themselves, he makes you smile. “Besides, there is no where I would rather be than with you.”

“Even if I puke on you?” You can hear him laugh on the other side of the door, and you use your last remaining energy to unlock the door through the Force.

“Even then, darling.” Stepping into the room, he immediately comes to your side, his warm hand skating along your exposed spine, rubbing it soothingly. “What can I do?”

“That.” His hand stills for a second, and then resumes drawing aimless patterns on your back. “Feels nice.”

“Lets get you off the floor. Bed sounds nice too, doesn’t it?” You hand’t realised how tired you were until Obi-Wan began to lull you to sleep, a subconscious part of you not able to let your guard down until he was next to you. 

He supports you as you stand, wrapping his arms around your waist more than he needs to, but you don’t dare say anything to him. Not that you could walk on your own, or that now you’ve thrown up you’ve already started to feel a bit better. No, you just stay quiet and lean into his touch, the warmth of his body like your own personal heat lamp. 

“You want to change?” He looks down at your pyjamas, and you just shake your head, wanting to be buried under the covers with him in the next three seconds. 

“Just want you.” You hum groggily, and your eyes start to flutter closed the second he lays your head on the pillow. You are afraid to ask him to stay with you— and even more afraid he would say no. You hadn’t done anything like this with him before, and the thought of him leaving you right now seemed to hurt worse than the cramps.

Before you can say anything, or overthink anymore, his body is pressing firmly against yours, encouraging your leg over his waist and your head nuzzles into his chest. The positioning keeps the warmth of his body heat on your stomach, and the pain fades away wherever he is touching you, which is everywhere.

“Sleep, my love. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Your eyes close, and your fingers dig themselves further into the complicated fabric of his far too formal robes, knowing he was telling the truth. 

[love-fireflysong]

God it sure has been a while since I did one of these huh? Whoopsies. Just been busy, busy, busy over here with working all night and sleeping all day I guess. (Hell, honestly I’m going to bed the second after I’m done writing this which will be like after noon lol.)

Unfortunately writing has been very slow going with me, but I thankfully was able to get out of my slump the other week and have been able to get some words down every now and then. Enough words that I’ll share some snippets from TWO different fics I have started since then! First one from one of the writing prompts that was requested back in September (and that I had intended to complete before my brain decided to short out and turn into goop).

“Fucking hell, I’m sorry about that. I thought for sure that you heard me coming in, I swear that I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Already feeling some of the heat from the embarrassment leaving her face, Abi shakes her head as she loosens her tight hold on her sketchbook and relaxes back into the chair again with weak laugh. “It’s fine, really. Must have just gotten so absorbed into drawing that I didn’t even notice the door opening. What are you doing in here?”

Almost the second the words leave her mouth, the embarrassment that had just started it’s retreat is back to it’s original level as she tries to stammer out what she hopes will be a placating and entirely reasonable explanation. “I mean, not that you can’t be in here of course. It’s not like I have a monopoly on the library after all. Anyone can come in here whenever they went, even you.” Nope, never mind. Instead she’s just continuing on digging that hole deeper and deeper with every following word. Because clearly accidentally insulting Nick and even implying he’s stupid so someone like him would never deign to set foot in a library of all things is the perfect way to ask anyone (much less one’s summertime crush) why they’ve come to see you.

The second fic is one that I just recently took a break from cause it was a halloween centric piece and it felt silly to keep working seeing that I completely missed finishing it for the holiday oops. Both Chris and Ashley had been aware that Josh had decided on the haunted house/graveyard combo earlier in the year, and just like always he had clearly spared no expense on making his vision come to life. Aged shutters had been installed to hang broken and crooked from every cracked and shattered window. Withered ivy climbed the sides of the house, the once bright blue paint (that Chris himself had helped Josh pick out earlier that summer) now dull and peeling, if not missing entirely from some areas of the wood siding. In the corner window on the top floor (which both knew immediately to be the bedroom that they had shared for years before they had moved out shortly after the wedding) was the almost uncomfortable silhouette of a body hung and swaying gently side-to-side in the dim light of the room. On the front of the garage door that housed Josh's extremely macabre props workshop, someone had sprayed various warnings to 'KEEP AWAY' from the 'SUPER HAUNTED' house else they encounter whatever 'GRUESOME DEATH AWAITS YOU' for themselves.

The front yard was no less embellished. The once neat and tidy wooden fence that surrounded the boundary had been replaced entirely with a rusted and nearly broken metal one, every foot or two was a sharp point that looked to be almost deadly, and random ones proved it as they looked to be stained with something nastier and darker than rust alone. What looked like actual gravestones and wooden crosses were scattered throughout the yard, some broken—if not almost entirely demolished—with the names inscribed on them near unreadable. Ashley had even pointed out a cross in the front corner of the yard where the dirt had been freshly turned, as though implying that a new body had been added just recently. A thick and heavy fog rolled across the ground, smoke curling like long, spindly fingers at as it reached the edges of the yard, with the source of the fog curiously emanating from the large, bare oak tree in the center of the yard. The tree that Josh had seen fit to cover in a wide assortment of (unsurprisingly) realistic bats as a raven perched amongst the highest branches, occasionally letting out a loud and discordant caw in irregular intervals.

And yet, despite clearly blowing every other house out of the water, it was easily the tamest that Josh had ever decorated for Halloween in his entire life.

And cross-stitch time! Less headway than I would have liked solely because eagle-eyed peeps may notice that the shades of pink on the right side just above the mareep has changed shade entirely. Realized that the colours I had been given did not match at all with the ones for the next page and the new ones being offered were a much, much better match than the vibrant, almost neon ones I had been given before. But when I went to remove the threads I accidentally managed to completely snap one of the weaves of the material which made it absolutely impossible to sew anything on that line. So I had to preform some minor surgery by re-weaving a new thread to try and replace it and sew on top of that so it would (hopefully) stay in place. And thank god it worked almost perfectly! The only issue that was left is that you can kind of see where it was done cause a couple of squares of thread are *slighty* raised higher than the rest with a small bit of the white peeking through. All in all, a complete success if I say so myself (and I definitely do lol)! After that, it only took me another day or so to finish the page off finally, and all that black was done in two, with the hopes of finishing off the rest of it Thursday night when the new episode of critical role airs!

[sunasbabie]

pairing: osamu x reader

prompt: you snuck into my room, at 4am... to cuddle?

ever since practice for nationals started you haven’t been spending a lot of time with your boyfriend who was on the volleyball team. sure you understood that practice and school were his priorities but he was still your boyfriend and you wanted to spend time with him. you wanted to be held by him and feel his warmth against your skin but the most contact you got was when he would hold your hand when he was walking you to your class. you didn’t get to spend time with him after practice because he was tired and he still had homework to do and you didn’t want to bother him

the time you spent with him at school wasn’t enough because you only got to see him during your breaks since you guys weren’t classmates which sucked so you took matters into your own hands also you tomorrow was a weekend so they wouldn’t have training until later in the morning.

here you were, in front of the miya house, your phone pressed to your ear waiting for your boyfriend to pick up. and when he did you had the biggest smile on your face.

“look out your window babe” cheeks getting flushed from the cold weather.

osamu rubbed his eyes making sure he was seeing correctly but he was, and there you were outside his house wearing a hoodie that was too big on you wondering if it was his hoodie that you were wearing, which it probably is.

“what are you doing here?” he tried to be quiet because his twin brother was asleep on the top bunk.

“i missed you ‘samu” you smiled up at him which made him smile because he hasn’t seen it enough these past few weeks because he’s been so busy with training. “now come down and unlock the door for me, it’s freezing out here”

he couldn’t help but smile at your silly antics

he headed downstairs, careful not to wake anyone up since it was the middle of the night.

he unlocked the door and the first thing he was was your face, you were smiling from ear to ear. you quickly came inside and pulled osamu in for a hug.

“i missed you so much” you muttered into his neck, basking in the warmth that he provided

he immediately responded and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you even closer to him “i missed you too baby” he pulled away and pressed a kiss on your lips

“can we go up to your room?” pouting at him and giving him those eyes you knew he can’t resist

he contemplated for a second knowing that his brother was there but he was like “fuck it”, he grabbed your hand and dragged you upstairs to his bedroom.

when you got in he closed the door slowly making sure his brother wouldn’t wake up. he turned to look at you only to find you on his bed pulling up the blankets for him.

he got the message and got in bed with you making sure that you were comfortable. you were quick to lay your head on his chest, arm thrown over his torso to feel his warmth.

“you know it’s dangerous to be wandering around the neighbourhood at this hour” he whispered against your hair

“i know, but i really missed you ‘samu i wanted to come and see you” you were drawing small circles on his chest, missing the feeling of having him this close to you. “and i missed your cuddles” you said even more quietly than before

he chuckled at how adorable you were “so let me get this straight you snuck into my room, at 4am…to cuddle?”

“i didn’t sneak in you let me in”

“yeah same thing”

you slapped his chest “you’re so mean to me, after i walked here just to cuddle and kiss you”

“oh yeah, so where are my kisses” he teased

“well now you aren’t getting any” huffing at him because he was teasing you

he honestly found you adorable that’s why he said that “i’m just kidding baby, c’mere” he placed a hand under your chin to bring your lips closer to his, but when your lips were about to touch both of you stopped your tracks.

“you both better not be making out under there or i’m telling mom”

[howdoyousleep3]

where’s that hc about bucky learning to touch 🤲

I was hoping someone would notice that tag and hit me up. Thank you, sweet pea. This one is special to me, one of many. ❤

Bucky doesn’t say much about what happened to him after the fall and before Steve was miraculously given a second chance at a life with him. Steve is thankful for that. The details he does know come from Bucky’s therapist and from files that have been scrounged up over time, ones Steve can’t stomach through, ones he hands to Natasha and asks only for the information she finds pertinent.

Steve is sure he’d die of a goddamn broken heart if he knew every detail of Bucky’s 70+ years of brainwashed torture.

What he needs to know about Bucky is constant and will never change: this is James Barnes, the one in the same Steve spent his entire life falling in love with, Steve loves him now more than ever, and he is going to live every day he’s gifted with in this life for Bucky.

There are things Steve expects after Bucky joins him and the others back at the Tower, things Bruce has helped him comprehend in such a volatile predicament.

“It could take months, years even, for him to come back to you in full. And honestly, Steve...I would be ready for the possibility of him not returning to you in full. This may not end up being the Bucky you knew and grew up with. He needs therapy, needs patience, needs reminders of his life before, of who he was and is. This won’t be easy, Steve.”

Anything for Bucky.

There are things Bucky took to right away and other things that took much longer for him to enjoy or remember. Steve is with him every step of the way.

Sleep was one thing that Steve thought would be a struggle. After only one month of sleeping on the floor in the corner of his bedroom, Steve able to hear him tossing and turning and breathing heavily through his own bedroom wall, it took one afternoon nap on the couch to make him want to move to his new bed. While nightmares continued, Bucky slept albeit in small increments and sometimes through the day, but he slept.

Steve thought that would take years.

Crowds were another story. Crowds came with trust and Bucky rightfully didn’t trust others easily. He barely trusted Steve at first. It took time to get him out of the apartment, baby steps, one step forward and two steps back. They started with walks at dawn, fewer people, gave a shot at stopping for coffee on the way home a few times.

“It’s a Venti here, Buck,” Steve had tried to explain and Bucky huffed. “Why are things so goddamn complicated now? Just want a coffee, a—”

“I know— a black coffee with too much sugar. I got it.”

They’re working on interactions with others and the anxiety that comes with crowds. That one will take time.

What hadn’t taken time, and what startled everyone in the tower beyond belief, was Bucky and affection.

Steve may not know much of what Bucky has spent most of his life enduring but he at least had the assumption that what Bucky went through shouldn’t make him want any kind of touch from another person. Steve wrongfully assumed that any sort of gentle or soft touch wasn't something Bucky would like.

Bucky had spent the past 70+ years walking this earth as a killer, a robot, a machine, an assassin. He surely spent decades thinking he wasn’t worthy of anything, let alone love. He had been touch-starved, void of the tenderness and closeness Steve knows Bucky deserved and craved underneath the brainwashed parts of him.

It took time for Bucky to remember who Steve was to him. While he had recognized him immediately, remembering him but not how, it took months for Bucky to remembered the capacity in which he did so.

And Steve waited.

And waited.

Steve was gifted with small moments along the way, on this journey of Bucky remembering both himself and who Steve was to him:

“You...you were real small once,” Bucky said, factual with no trace of a question, hands in soapy water as he handed Steve a plate to dry. Steve had merely hummed. “Yeah, was...was maybe half the size I am now. Real small.”

“Could fit both’a my hands right around your middle…”

It had been a long while since Steve blushed like that.

Bucky standing over Steve’s sleeping form, heaving chest visible by only the filtered moonlight, Steve mumbling out a, “Buck, wha—?” before Bucky whispered, “You...you’ve been inside of me.” Steve sat up.

“I have,” Steve breathed, on cautious ground, shakier when Bucky then whispered, “But you like it better when I’m inside’a you.”

When Steve had swallowed audibly, nodded his head wordlessly, Bucky had turned and left the room.

It took months of moments like those to compile together, to form the picture of what Steve once was, what he yearned to continue to be, to Bucky. All of these moments, these memories, came to a head so unpredictably during yet another movie night. Knees knocking, fingers brushing, small touches that Steve absolutely soaked in, had gotten used to, had relearned.

When a glance towards Bucky had the wind knocking its way out of Steve’s chest, the familiarity of that look a bone-deep ache—

Bucky was going to kiss him.

A look full of determination and want, lips parted, eyes a bit glassy. Steve didn't dare move, had let Bucky come to him for fear of scaring him away. The moment their lips touched was the moment Bucky started crying. It had only been a short brush of their lips but Steve barely breathed, barely moved. Bucky had pulled back with wide, wet eyes, shaky breaths. “Buck, it’s okay. It’s okay. Everything’s alright, sweetheart,” are the words that easily slipped from his mouth, unable to stop them in a moment of progress that satiated his entire being.

That was the moment that changed everything. It was a startle to everyone involved. Steve had been ready to wait years, this entire life, for the moment he could touch Bucky again, could show him that physicality he knew his Buck craved. After that night on the couch it was as if the floodgates had opened—

Bucky remembered and wanted.

Regardless of where they were or what was happening, he wanted to be touching Steve: soft kisses on the cheek and lips, laying his head in Steve’s lap as he read, lacing his fingers between Steve’s during meetings, an arm wrapped around Steve’s waist between bouts of sparring. He’d trace patterns onto Steve’s thigh as he watched Steve draw, press against the line of his back while he cooked dinner.

Steve was floating on a cloud, was in heaven, never happier. It was perfection.

But what Bucky wanted, Steve couldn’t provide, couldn’t meet. Steve was only one man, couldn’t provide Bucky, whom touch had been stolen away from for decades, with everything he wanted. And that was okay, something Steve accepted, because there were other people Bucky could turn to that Steve trusted.

“I’m sure you all know why I asked you to meet with me,” Steve started, choosing a time Bucky was napping to meet with the rest of the group that either lived in or frequented the Tower. “Bucky has shown us a new side of him, has made some progress I think it’s worth discussing with everyone, since we’re all...we’ve all been affected...”

“Uhh, yeah— your Barnes-y boy has been all over me lately. I’m almost offended that everyone else is here to talk to Cap though. Thought he was just comin' onto me.”

“I have to tell you, I didn’t...I know we talked, Steve. But I’m honestly shocked at Bucky’s progress. It’s baffling.”

“I haven’t minded it. He lets me braid his hair.”

“Wait— y’all are getting touches?”

It was a group effort, supporting Bucky in this way. It was an adjustment, Bucky never prompting and questioning before touching or requesting touches— he just went for it. He was quiet still, not shy, merely observant. And just like he nudged at and leaned against Steve until his hands were on him, he did the same to others.

“I just ask that you show Bucky grace during this time. It’s a delicate situation. I need to know if you don’t want his touch or don’t wish to give him any kind of touch. I think it would be best if it came from me instead of from you in the moment.”

Natasha was who Bucky went to for scratches. Steve thinks it’s the nails. Steve also thinks Nat is Bucky’s favorite to go to for touches, even over him, but Bucky refuses to admit it.

When Bucky wants mindless touches, when he wants tickles and scratches, he goes to her. She naturally took to Bucky’s need for touches, the first occurrence one that came without hesitation. She’ll braid his hair, let him turn his head right where he wants her head scratches, naturally reaches for his back or shoulders to run her nails across when he saddles in close to her.

Thor is one of Bucky’s favorites too. Steve isn’t sure if it’s because of his strength or because of his warm and accepting demeanor but Bucky gravitates towards Thor often, mainly for neck and shoulder rubs. One, “James, my friend. You musn’t be afraid of asking for touch with me. I will always be willing to assist,” and that was all Bucky needed to feel comfortable walking over to Thor and nudging at his hands.

He puts his head on Bruce’s shoulder as soon as he can, likes sparring and playing hide and seek with Clint, enjoys putting his feet in Sam’s lap. Tony took some warming up to, but even then Bucky spent many hours in Tony’s lab, Tony guiding his hands, showing him what to do and how to work different machines, the two of them tinkering on his own arm.

Bucky kinda turns into the Tower kitty cat, wandering around quietly, napping in the sun, snacking, demanding affection from anyone he crosses paths with and trusts.

Everyone had their form of touch they shared with Bucky and Bucky absolutely blossomed under this form of support. Steve is forever grateful to be surrounded by a group of understanding individuals.

And every night when he lifts the comforter and feels the solid line of Bucky’s warm form against his side, the arm that now easily and inevitably slips around his waist, the familiar lips that always press against his temple, shoulder, and cheek, Steve is reminded this day was for Bucky and that the one they’ll wake up to will also be for him.

"I love you, Buck."

"Mhmm love you too, pal."

Steve doesn't even mind that Bucky spends his nights snoring in the crook of his neck, hot breath wafting over Steve's skin, hands grabby even as he dreams—

This is heaven.

[marauderundercover]

Maribat Halloween: Decorating

Marinette Dupain Cheng groans, dropping herself across her friend’s lap, hiding her face in her hands. 

“What’s up Pixie Pop?” Jason asks, his attention immediately on her. She just groans, trying not to think of the ways she had failed today. “Pix?” Jason prompts. She huffs and sits up, pouting. 

“I met a boy today.” She says, and Jason grins. 

“Didya say something embarrassing?” He teases, and she huffs. 

“Kind of.” She says vaguely, not willing to go into it. 

“Ya know you’re gonna tell me eventually. Might as well just tell me now.” Jason points out, and Marinette sighs, rubbing her hand over her face. 

“So he was super cute and instead of doing something normal like tell him he’s cute or ask him out or anything else, I volunteered to be his secretary for the month while his is on vacation.” She rambles out, groaning. Jason snorts, laughing loudly until he stops abruptly. Marinette glances at him, frowning at his sudden change. “What-” 

“Your meeting today, it was at Wayne Enterprises, wasn’t it.” He says, his frustration clear. 

“Yeah?” She draws out, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“Goddamnit Replacement.” Jason swears, shaking his head. 

“What?” Marinette raises an eyebrow, completely lost. Jason sighs. 

“Let me tell you a little about Tim Drake.”

---

Tim Drake was confused, as he walked into Wayne Enterprises on October 1st. And he didn't like to be confused. But all things considered, he felt that his confusion was valid. After all, when he left the building at eleven o'clock last night (long after everyone else, even his secretary, had left), the building looked like a normal office building. Now, though, there were spiderwebs and tiny pumpkins everywhere. Tiny plastic spiders and cloth ghosts hung from the ceilings. It was cute, but he had no idea how it could've happened. Or when. Deciding to check the security tapes, he walks swiftly over to the elevator, blinking in surprise at the change in music. Instead of the usual (boring) elevator music, an instrumental version of "This is Halloween" was playing softly. Honestly, it was impressive. Whoever had managed to do it had done so without Tim seeing them as he left, and without tripping any of the alarms. He'd just have to hope that whoever did it wasn't willing to use their powers for evil.

As the elevator stops at his floor, he mentally makes a note to ask Marinette, his temporary secretary, if she'd seen anyone strange when she left the night before. She’d only been his secretary for two weeks, and was only scheduled to do the job for one more. She had come in for a meeting with Lucius Fox, something to do with a fabric Lucius had developed, Tim was unsure on the details. But when she came in, she’d seen the absolute mess that the top floor had become since Tim’s secretary had left on vacation. She’d nearly insisted on helping out, and Tim honestly loved having her around. Marinette was funny, and cute and smart and- He frowns, shaking his head to clear it. Sure, he had a crush on her. But nothing could come of it. He’d seen Jason picking her up a couple times, and as much as he disliked his brother at times, he wouldn’t try to date the girl his brother was dating. Sighing, he watches as the numbers finally approach his floor.

The second he walks onto his floor, he's bombarded with even more decorations. More of the same from downstairs, but there were also skeletons (dressed in tiny costumes), plastic bags, and Marinette- for some reason- had a witch's hat on. Tim's eyebrow raises. 

"Feeling festive?" He asks, confused. It's not that Marinette was always serious. In fact, he'd seen her leap over a counter for a cup of coffee. But he'd never seen her in a hat. Especially not a witch hat. 

"Is it too much? We don't really do Halloween in France, not like this anyway." She says nervously, touching the hat.

"Well, er, it's definitely more than I'm used to." He says, before the pieces click together. "Wait a minute, did you decorate the entire building?" Tim asks, completely shocked. Though, he probably shouldn't be. The woman was a force of nature. Marinette blushes. 

"Yeah, I just thought- sorry, Jason mentioned something about it the other day.” She says and Tim sighs. Of course his asshole brother had something to do with this. Tim drops into the seat in front of Marinette’s desk and smiles at her gently. 

“What exactly did he say?” Tim asks, and Tim’s surprised to see that Marinette’s face can get even more red. She mumbles something, and Tim frowns. “Couldn’t hear you, Mari.” He says. She sighs, pushing a stray piece of hair out of her face. 

“He said that you love Halloween.” She says again, and Tim blinks in surprise. 

“Wait, what?” 

“You, he said that you like Halloween. And I wasn’t exactly sure how much would be too much and I’ve never been great at subtlety and so I decided that it wouldn’t be the end of the world to do the whole tower instead of just this floor but then I had to call Jason to help me change the music in the elevator because I didn’t have the clearance for that and-” She rambles, and Tim frowns, reaching forward to grab her hands to try and get her to slow down, to help her calm down. She takes in a deep breath and grins at him, making his heart skip a beat. 

“Sorry, I just, you were rambling.” Tim says, quickly releasing her hands. 

“I really like you.” She blurts out, her eyes widening. Tim’s eyebrows shoot upwards. 

“I-you-Jason?” He says and she frowns. 

“What about Jason?” She asks. 

“You, you and Jason. I can’t- you’re dating Jason, aren’t you?” He asks, and she laughs, which confuses him even more. Was she laughing at him? Or at the suggestion? 

“Jason is one of my best friends. And, like my friends Adrien and Nino, he’s also practically my brother.” She explains, her amused smile shifting into something else. Something softer. 

“So you aren’t dating my brother?” Tim asks, and Marinette shakes her head, giggling softly. 

“If I was dating Jason, I definitely wouldn’t have decorated the entirety of Wayne Enterprises to try and ask you out.” She says. Tim grins as her words register. 

“You want to ask me out?” He clarifies, and she nods.

“Coffee after work? I’ll buy.” She offers, and he smiles. 

“As long as I can buy next time.” He says with a grin. Who knew a couple of decorations could lead to something so great.

Permanent tag list (open): @stainedglassm @kittenmywaythrulife @laydeekrayzee @doll246 @maribat-october-rarepairs

[minteyeddevil]

Hi! I love your writing ❤ For the asks list, may I please request number 79 from the first list of smut prompts with Lucifer and F! MC please

(Hello there! Thank you for loving my writing!! ;v; I honestly really enjoy seeing you in my notes agdjshk. And thanks for sending in a prompt!)

---

#79: “Fuck you.” “I’m up for it if you are.”

---

Seething jealousy.

That’s all she could feel, almost every day now. It consumed her like a flame, and made her stomach tie in tight knots. She knew she shouldn’t feel this way; but she couldn’t help it. She was only human after all.

She knew what she was getting into when she began to romance the Avatar of Pride. He was second to the Demon Prince, and sought after by many demon, succubi, and inccubi alike. There were bound to be admirers, as he had had many before; but this time. This time seemed far too much for her to handle.

Whoever this admirer was, made it awfully clear they wanted to win him over from her. Their letters were laced with pheromonal perfume, gifts meant to draw him in and cast a spell on him; they were left every day outside his office, and even left on the doorstep of the House of Lamentation. Thankfully he was much too powerful of a demon to fall for such trickery. But knowing there was a being so willing to do such things out there terrified her.

What made it even worse, was how nonchalantly Lucifer was treating the whole scenario. He would look over the letters, smirk and chuckle, before setting them aflame in his hand. The gifts would simply be looked over, than tossed into the trash as if nothing would happen with them. She would watch him address these things, and when she brought up her concerns, he simply would tell her they were nothing for her to worry about.

Nothing for her to worry about? Was he enjoying this attention? Did...did he want to reciprocate these feelings in some way?

This started the fit of jealous that took root in her chest. One she could no longer hold back on. She stormed into his study, fuming as she noticed another letter in his hand. As she walked up, his eyes came up to meet hers, and the letter burst into flames, disappearing from his hand.

“Another one?” she huffed, placing her hands on her hips in annoyance.

He sighed, giving her a slight nod before turning back to his paperwork. “Not anything new at this point, it seems. They write the same mess with each letter.”

“And yet you still haven’t done anything about them.”

“They are of no grave concern. Just a lesser demon with an infatuation--”

“Yeah, an infatuation with my boyfriend!”

He looked up at this. She immediately regretted saying that out loud; but it was the truth after all.

He stood from his chair and walked around his desk, leaning back on it as he looked her over. “My dear MC...are you actually jealous?”

She bristled. “I’m annoyed with how you let this continue! If it really is just a lesser demon doing all this, why not put them in their place and make them leave you alone?!”

His brows rose at this for a moment, before his features relaxed and he smirked at her. “Put them in their place, you say? Maybe you are the one who needs to be put in her place.”

Her eyes widened, and her face bloomed red with anger. He was toying with her now, and she absolutely hated it. Her feelings and jealousy were valued, and she was infuriated having him treat this like some kind of joke.

She practically hissed. "Fuck you."

A devilish grin spread across his features as he stood from his leaning position, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he looked down his nose at her. "I'm up for it if you are. So, fuck me yourself."

For a moment she was taken aback by his brazen words, but flared in return, lunging for him and taking hold of his tie. She used it as leverage to bring him eye to eye with her. “Maybe I will. Just to remind you who you belong to, demon.”

Her lips crashed against his, all teeth and tongue. She walked him backwards against his desk, pushing him back onto the wooden surface so he was flat along the top of it, scattering his stacks of papers all over. She climbed atop him, straddling his lap, her hands splayed on his chest. His gloved hands came to rest at her hips, thumbs pressing into them teasingly.

“You make it incredibly easy to get under your skin, MC. So little to make you so jealous..."

She frowned at the smirk still on his lips, not bothering with a rebuttal. Instead, she grabbed a handful of his black hair at the back of his head, tugging it back so that his neck was exposed to her. She bit down on his throat, eliciting a deep groan from him. She peppered his skin with dark marks, disregarding how he would surely punish her for them later. With the last hard suck, she pulled away with a pop, looking down at her handiwork. The darkest spots were right below his ear, ones that couldn't be hidden by his high collar.

"There. Now everyone should be able to tell who you belong to," she hummed, leaning down to kiss his lips once more. She rolled her hips against his, feeling the prominent bulge against her core, and reached between their bodies to cup him, giving him a tight squeeze.

"Mine," she mumbled before kissing him roughly again, adjusting her hands to work at his belt and zipper. Soon she had his cock free in her hands, and he hissed when her thumb drew circles over the head of it.

"Only yours," he growled in return, rutting his hips up into her hands.

She adjusted her skirt beneath her, letting his cock nestle against the fabric of her underwear as she ground against him. His hands gripped her thighs, his hips trying to match the pace of hers.

"No other being can have you, Lucifer. You're mine and mine alone, understand?"

She shifted the fabric to the side, letting the tip of his cock press against her entrance, her slick there making it easy for him to slide in. His head lulled back on his desk, a groan of swears leaving him as she pressed down, fully sheathing him inside.

"I understand, my love," he finally moaned out, feeling her hands combing through his hair and tugging him up into a deep kiss.

She rolled her hips, pace slowly picking up as she moaned into their shared kiss. He kept as still as he could, though his hips betrayed him, trying to press up against her when she came down on his cock. He could feel her walls pulling him in, mimicking the possessive feeling he felt radiating off of her.

She pushed him back down flat on the desk, hands pressed wide on his chest and she bucked her hips, riding him harder. Head thrown back, her mouth open in a silent cry as she felt her climax wash over, sending pulse after pulse through her. His grip on her thighs tightened as she felt something warm fill her, his cock hard and twitching against her walls.

She let herself lull forward onto his chest, her head tucking underneath his chin as his tires arms came to wrap around her, holding her close. She could feel the thudding of his heart against her chest, and hear his labored breathing against her ear. An airy laugh left him suddenly, and she lifted her head to look him in the face quizzically.

"What's so funny?"

"You are. Silly humans and their bouts of jealousy."

She bristled once more, swatting at his chest. "You instigated it! I just want you to do something to make them--"

“I certainly do know who the demon is sending me these unsolicited gifts, my love.” She remained silent, and he brought a hand to stroke through her hair. “Barbatos and Solomon are working with me to rid myself of the nuisance. They are in fact being dealt with as we speak."

Her eyes widened and mouth went slack. A slight flush graced her cheeks as she huffed and thumped his chest once more. "Why didn't you just tell me this!? Instead of letting me act like such...such a fool!"

He chuckled, pulling her in to peck at her lips. "I will admit...I did enjoy seeing you get riled up and possessive over me. Your little pout and angry face are rather adorable to look at."

She scoffed and tried to pull out of his grip, only for him to tighten it and pull her closer to his chest.

"I hate you."

"I love you too, my dear."

[peakyblindersxx]

ice blue - tommy shelby x reader

a/n: hi lovelies! i literally just finished typing this and i’ve gotten so many notes on my preview of it that i literally couldn’t wait to give this to you guys. i really really hope you like it :) lmk if there’s anything in specific you guys want me to write, otherwise the next thing i’m working on is gonna be with john (i’ve already started it and this one is fucking hOt a bitch is sweating). as always message me literally about anything or if you want me to start a taglist

love, abi xxx

prompt: you’re back home in Birmingham and you need a job. Tommy Shelby offers you one.

warnings: nsfw!! smut, light choking, power kink oops

You stepped out of the car, cold air coming up to brush against your ankles as you shivered in the brisk English evening, wrapping your black wool coat tightly around you. You were once again new to Birmingham, having grown up there, but at the age of 9, you were sent to a boarding school in London after your parents were killed in a house fire. You had gone on to college, but had to drop out because you simply couldn’t make ends meet. Now, at the age of 21, you were back home, looking for a job, and as soon as you arrived, the first person to call was your best schoolmate, Ada Shelby. Ada was spunky, fearless, and didn’t take no for an answer, which was one of the reasons the two of you got on so well. She had insisted on taking you out to her family’s bar, despite your pleas that you were exhausted. Fuck it, you had thought to yourself. If you were going to go out, you were going to look good doing it. So, you slipped on your best set of red silk lingerie and your shortest black lace dress which dipped low to accentuate your breasts and applied a dark red lipstick as well as eyeliner. Underneath, you slid on a pair of sheer black tights and slipped on black kitten heels. You slipped on a pair of dangly silver earrings, admiring yourself in the mirror before you had slid your silver cigarette case and lighter into a black clutch, shrugged on your coat, and made your way out the door.

There, Ada had been waiting in the back of a Model T, looking gorgeous in a dark purple silk dress. She had greeted you with open arms and a huge smile, chattering on about how beautiful you looked and how much she had missed you. The two of you had managed to stay in contact throughout the years, writing letters about the current events, so you knew all about her baby, and pressed her with many questions about how she was doing. Now, here you were, in front of a bar, the muffled drunken shouts and laughter seeping through the brick walls.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Ada grinned at you, nudging you with her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go in, and don’t worry about paying. This is my family’s bar,” she said, leading you towards the wooden doors.

“Fuck, Ada, your family owns this whole thing?” You marveled at the exterior of the building as Ada practically dragged you towards the double doors.

“Yeah, it’s all that and everything,” Ada waved her hand dismissively as she reached for the door handle. “Let’s get to the damn bar already, I need a fucking drink.” She pulled the doors open and the noise washed over you, the smell of alcohol permeating the air. The bar was dimly lit, with leather upholstery and plenty of drunk Englishmen. Bottles of spirits adorned an entire wall behind the bar in the rear. The noise swirled around you as Ada pushed her way through the crowd, determined to reach her destination. Finally, you reached the bar, and almost immediately a bartender appeared. You had known the Shelby’s were powerful, but Ada had never really talked about her family’s business. They must have been fucking loaded; the way people parted for Ada, you couldn’t even imagine the way they must have bowed for her brothers. You had never really interacted with them, but you assumed that was going to change. All you really knew about them was from the rumors, which were gruesome and plentiful.

“Give me two whiskeys,” Ada said to the bartender, who slid the glasses her way. “Thanks, Harry,” Ada yelled, handing you a glass and pulling you towards the rear of the bar, opening a door and ushering you in. As soon as you entered the room, the entire atmosphere shifted. This room was much quieter; you could even hear jazz music over the chatter. Smoke clouded the air, and you downed your drink to quiet your nerves, as you had realized that these were some of the most powerful people in the city that surrounded you. A maid appeared to take you and Ada’s jackets, and as you slipped off your coat, a wave of insecurity hit you. Ada was making small talk with an unfamiliar woman next to you, and you tapped her shoulder, telling her you were heading to the bar as she nodded, shouting after you, “When you come back, get me another whiskey!”

You laughed, turning and making your way to the bar, sliding into a stool upholstered with crushed red velvet. You motioned the bartender over, and as you waited, you took out a cigarette and lit it. The bartender set your whiskey in front of you, and as soon as you had picked it up, Ada had you by the arm and was tugging you to a booth, your whiskey and cigarette still in hand, your clutch tucked under your arm. In the booth sat three men, each of varying ages and all adorned in formal wear and newsboy caps, complete with glistening pocket-watch chains.

“Shove over,” Ada said, pulling you into the booth next to one of the brothers. “Y/N, these are my daft brain brothers, Arthur, Tommy, and John.” The oldest, sporting various scars across his face did little but grunt and touch his hat, getting up to exit the booth, and the youngest had already started bickering across the table with Ada, something about who was the biggest idiot. The middle brother, however, was fucking gorgeous. You already knew you were screwed. He had long doe eyelashes, framing ice blue eyes, and his jawline was neatly defined. His cologne alone was doing things to you. Get it together, you thought to yourself, downing the whiskey in your glass. The motion caught his attention and you felt his gaze on you, piercing your soul and sending goosebumps down your spine. He put his cigarette to his mouth and took a drag, and you couldn’t help but draw your eyes to the way his lips parted.

“You like Irish whiskey?” His smooth voice shook you to the core. You looked at him in shock for a second before quickly collecting yourself.

“I’ve always drank it, my whole family does,” you responded, your gaze lifting to meet his. He leaned back, eyes drinking you in. You chewed your lip, pressing your thighs together in an effort to quench the ache that had begun to form.

“Tommy!” A voice rang from across the room. The brother, who you assumed now was named Tommy, stood. “Excuse me for a minute,” Tommy said, stepping aside to converse with a woman you recognized as Ada’s aunt. The woman seemed angry, but then, from what you remembered, she always had. After a few minutes, she left and Tommy slid back into the booth, exhaling and shooting his whiskey. Ada and the youngest brother, who you had learned was John had both moseyed off, so it was just you and Tommy in the booth, in the corner of the room. Tommy took a drag of his cigarette and sighed.

“Ada told me you need a job,” he said, eyes lingering on you.

“I do,” you admitted, “but I don’t want you to feel obliged or anything. I can manage-”

“I need a new assistant,” Tommy cut you off, but you honestly didn’t mind. Something about the way he did it managed not to rub you the wrong way. “It’s mostly paperwork, but I’d pay you well. 40 shillings a week.” Tommy took the last drag of his cigarette, putting it out while still holding you in his gaze.

“I can do that,” you managed to blurt out. God knows what you were getting yourself into, getting hired by a man that not only had a notorious reputation but was making you trip over your own words. Something about the way he looked at you, though, made you say yes. You already couldn’t resist him. God damn it, you thought to yourself.

Across from you, Tommy pulled his jacket on. “Monday, 8 am. My office.” He slipped a piece of paper to you with an address scrawled on it, standing and leaving. As quickly as you had become intoxicated by him, he had left. The whole night, throughout all of Ada’s chatter, on the way home, in the bath, in bed, he never left the back of your mind. You wanted to be his, as much as you tried to fight the thought for not only your sake but Ada’s. You knew it was impossible, that he would want you like this, so you reserved yourself to daydreaming. His hands on your hips, his mouth on yours: you craved it, unsatisfied by your own touch even after multiple rounds. You couldn’t escape him.

***

You awoke nervous, stomach doing cartwheels. You hadn’t seen Tommy since Saturday at the bar when you had met, and the anticipation of seeing him and having to hold yourself together and not beg him to bend you over the nearest piece of furniture was almost overwhelming. You decided on a simple black blouse and a tight black skirt with black tights and heels. You pulled your fitted wool coat over your shoulders and stepped out into the cool British morning, horses clopping past as your heels clacked over the bricks, making your way past children playing and yelling. The wind whipped past your cheeks, staining them a rosy pink as you pulled open the heavy wooden door of the office building. The warm air surrounded you, and above the conversations between the workers seated and standing around desks, you could faintly hear Ada arguing with someone in a back room somewhere. The office consisted of wood furniture and a couple of separated rooms, you assumed, for Ada’s brothers, the heads of the company. The fireplace in the corner provided a much needed reprieve from the wind outside, and you slipped your coat off, hanging it on the coat rack. One of the doors read “The office of Thomas Shelby” in gold lettering, and you knocked lightly, not wanting to appear late on your first day.

“Come in,” Tommy’s voice echoed from inside the room and you opened the door, closing it slowly behind you. Tommy was seated at a dark leather chair behind a desk, taking a drag from a cigarette whilst reading from a newspaper spread out in front of him. He looked up at you, clad in a dark grey vest which hugged his chest deliciously with a white collared dress shirt and black tie underneath. Gold chains sat firmly on his biceps, ice blue eyes boring through your clothes and making your cheeks flush. He sat like a king on his throne, and it was tantalizing.

“Good morning, Mr. Shelby,” you spoke quietly but firmly, eyes trailing up to meet his. He cracked a small smirk when your gaze met his, and it felt like he could see right through your shirt and your black lace bra. It must be your imagination, you thought, that he could be undressing you with his eyes like that. Surely you were delusional.

“You decided to take me up on my offer, I see,” Tommy said, leaning back and crossing his arms across his chest in a way that made you want to test his self control. “You know how to type, I assume?” His eyes flickered over your figure, lingering on the curve of your hips, making you feel like this wasn’t a regular business transaction. What you wouldn’t give to be one of the whores he visits in the middle of the night… You quickly gathered yourself together and responded.

“Yes,” you spoke. “I’ve worked as a secretary before.” Tommy nodded, standing and making his way around the front of his desk to lean on it, narrowing the space between the two of you significantly. “I’m not your normal businessman, you see,” he said, leaning back against the desk. “I keep odd hours, so if I asked you to stay late, would that be a problem?”

“No sir,” you replied, unable to rip your eyes off of the curve of Tommy’s lips and how they looked puffing at a cigarette.

“Good girl.” Your mouth dropped open slightly at his shameless assertiveness, a blush spreading across your cheeks. You couldn’t believe his forwardness, you thought, but you weren’t going to lie, it was fucking hot. Tommy grinned at you, turning his back to grab a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from the barcart in the corner of the room. He made his way back to his seat and placed the whiskey as well as the glasses on his desk, filling each and gesturing for you to sit with his hand. You sunk into the chair, legs crossed tightly in an attempt to relieve your throbbing core. You were absolutely fucked, you thought. Tommy opened a drawer, rifling through some papers before producing a contract typed in black ink.

“Cheers,” he offered you a glass of whiskey in one hand and a pen in the other. You accepted both, quickly rifling through the contract and scribbling your signature on the last page. Once you signed, your eyes flickered up to meet Tommy’s and he grinned, boyishly handsome yet devious.

“To new beginnings,” he said, offering his glass to clink against yours. You downed the whiskey in one gulp as Tommy looked on, blue eyes drinking you in.

“Nervous, darling?” he drawled, puffing at his cigarette. You suddenly felt a rush of confidence you hadn’t before. You could play this game too, and if you were, you were going to do it well.

“No,” you shook your head, a shy smile playing at your lips. “Just want to get to the point, is all.”

Tommy chuckled. “A woman after my own heart, aye?” With every glance he gave you, you became more emboldened. Yet, the man was still your boss, and you were in no place to proposition him, so you had to play coy.

“If that’s what you’d like, Mr. Shelby,” you said, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you reached for your cigarette case, taking one out and lighting it, exhaling a small cloud of smoke. Tommy refilled his glass, taking a swig as he stood and made his way to a cabinet, retrieving a stack of papers. He made his way back to his seat, placing the pile in front of you.

“I need these transaction records typed up by Friday, end of the day. Can you do that?”

You nodded, pink-stained lips puffing at the butt of your cigarette. “Is that all, Mr. Shelby?”

Tommy’s eyes flickered towards your mouth, and he took another drink. “For now, yes. I’ll have John show you to your desk, yeah?”

“Yes, Mr. Shelby,” you responded politely, putting out your cigarette. You could feel Tommy’s eyes on you as you left the room. As soon as you closed the office door behind you, you almost let out a sigh of relief. You hadn’t realized how tightly you’d been pressing your legs together, and they almost felt shaky. You didn’t know how you were going to get through another day of this, let alone the rest of the week. Fuck me, you thought to yourself.

***

The rest of the weekdays flew by, as you kept yourself busy with not only the work Tommy had given you but also managing his appointments and relaying his messages to his two brothers and other various family members. You got on with everyone in the office relatively well, most likely at Ada’s enforcement. She could be very assertive, but that was normal, considering she was the only girl with 4 brothers.

Your contact with Tommy, though often, was all business. He would spend hours at his desk, frowning down at various papers and logs with his whiskey and a cigarette, long after the others had gone home. He would always send you home though, telling you to get some rest. Though he was assertive, you found him to be surprisingly sweet. He didn’t hold doors for you or anything like that, but you didn’t expect that; you knew your place in the company. However, he never kept you late if you looked exhausted and would do small things, like let Ada interrupt your work with whatever news or gossip she had, and never said a thing, just smiled. However, Ada’s chatter had gotten the better of you and it was already Friday.

Around 8pm, after most of the office had left for the day, you finally typed up the last transaction log, sighing with relief and slumping back in your chair for a brief moment before straightening up and smoothing out your plum-colored pencil skirt and white blouse. You flipped open your contact mirror, making sure your pinned-up hair looked acceptable before putting out your cigarette, gathering the pile of papers and log, and knocked on Tommy’s door.

“Come in, Y/N,” Tommy’s voice came through the door and you shivered, already nervous not only to be alone with him but also about the quality of your work. You pulled the door open, closing it behind you and walking up to Tommy’s desk, where he sat in a light grey three-piece suit reading through a folder. A pair of gold spectacles sat neatly on his face, and a cigarette hung loosely from his lips, making your mind wander.

“I have the papers you wanted typed up in the log, Mr. Shelby,” you spoke, clutching the book so tightly in your hand that you had to tell yourself to loosen your grip. “Is there somewhere you’d like me to put them?”

Tommy gestured with his right hand towards the desk, his eyes still trained on the files. “Set them on the desk, and stay.” You complied, standing in front of his desk, and Tommy closed the folder, placing it into a drawer and locking it, taking off his glasses and setting them down on his oak desk. He reached for the work you had completed, flipping through it and letting out a small grunt of approval. “Very good.”

A blush crept across your cheeks. “Thank you, Mr. Shelby,” you responded, trying to focus your mind on something other than the way he would look on top of you.

Tommy set the work aside, eyes now firmly trained on you. “Tell me something, Y/N,” he said, taking a draw from the cigarette in his mouth. “Have you ever been fucked?”

Your mouth dropped open in shock. “Mr. Shelby, I-”

Tommy chuckled, shooting his whiskey and refilling his glass from the bottle on his desk, leaning back in his chair. “I’m not asking if you’re a virgin. I’m asking you if you’ve ever been fucked, properly.”

Your face was a rose pink, and it wasn’t just from the embarrassment. “I don’t know what you mean, Mr. Shelby-”

“I think you do.” Tommy smirked at you, ice blue eyes tracing your figure. The heat between the two of you was practically unbearable, and you had to remind yourself to keep breathing.

“No, not really,” you whispered, thighs clenched together as your eyes met Tommy’s.

Tommy smiled, almost deviously. “I didn’t think so,” he said, taking another drag and putting the cigarette out as he stood, coming around his desk and leaning back against it, eyes still fixed on you. “Do you want to be?”

You almost couldn’t believe the words you were hearing. Yet, Tommy was here, in front of you, asking if you wanted to be fucked by him. “Yes.” The answer almost fell out of your mouth, and your knees felt weak. Tommy wasted no time in closing the distance between the two of you, pressing you up against the nearest wall as his lips met yours. The feeling of his body against yours was better than you had imagined, and as his hips met yours, you let out a soft moan into his mouth.

“Fuck,” Tommy growled, picking you up by your legs and placing you on his desk, sweeping all the papers off with a sweep of his arm. A glass crashed onto the ground but he didn’t care, tugging his shirt over his shoulders while you removed yours. He pulled you against him roughly as he reconnected his lips with yours, his cock pressed up against your damp underwear. He stopped kissing you to let you pull off your skirt, discarding it somewhere on the floor, leaving you in your black garters and underwear.

“Look at you,” Tommy groaned, palming his cock through his trousers as he stared at your touseled hair and swollen lips and the way you were breathing hard. “All fucking riled up for me already, and I haven’t even gotten you naked yet, aye?”

“Mr. Shelby, please sir,” you whined, eyes widening as you realized what you had just said. Tommy’s eyes, however, darkened as he stepped inches away from you.

“Is that how you want it, huh?” Tommy breathed down your neck and you shivered, his hand gently wrapping around your throat. “You want to be fucked on the boss’s desk?” He reached his other hand down to cup your cunt. You squirmed in protest, pushing yourself against his hand as he chuckled darkly.

“You going to be a good girl for me?” Tommy cajoled, pressing his palm against your clit. You moaned, nodding vigorously as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. He pulled your panties down, ripping your garters off and slipped a finger inside of you, making you cry out in response and clench around his fingers. He quickly joined that finger with another, pumping them in and out of you.

“Oh fuck,” you cried as you felt your release approaching. “Oh God, I’m gonna cum..”

“Cum for me then, pretty girl. Make a mess for me, yeah?” Tommy growled into your ear as you came all over his fingers. Tommy chuckled as you caught your breath, bringing his fingers to his mouth.

“God, you’re sweet,” he murmured, his eyes blown out with lust. Your breath hitched at his words and you kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue. He pushed your back against the desk, unbuckling his pants and pulling out his cock before running the tip of it against your wet core.

“Please..” You squirmed against him in an attempt to get him to comply.

Tommy smirked. “What is it you want, huh?” You moaned in response, hips rocking up. Tommy’s hand made his way to your neck, holding it firmly yet not hard enough to bruise. “I wanna hear you say it, sweetheart. Maybe then I’ll give it to you.”

“Sir, please,” you cried out, hips still undulating. “I want your cock inside me.”

Tommy’s eyes dilated and he pushed himself inside of you, snapping his hips against yours at an unbelievable pace. Your eyes rolled back into your head and you were seeing stars, but you wanted everything he was willing to give you. He hadn’t even claimed you, yet you were already his. Your moans echoed throughout the office as he fucked you faster, your hands gripping at the desk, then scratching at his back. He didn’t seem to care about the marks, as he buried his face in your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin. You felt yourself coming close to the edge once again, and you tipped your head back, crying out as Tommy fucked you through your second, third, and fourth orgasm. He had you over the desk, up against the wall, even on the chair, and you didn’t care. You wanted it just as badly as he did. Finally, Tommy had you on your back on the couch, hand around your neck as he fucked you. Your eyes flickered up to meet his as you gasped.

“Please come in me, sir,” you gasped as Tommy grunted, setting an unrelenting pace.

“You’re mine,” he growled as he fucked into you. “Every inch. If I catch anyone here even looking at you, I swear to God, I’ll fucking kill them. You belong to me now, yeah?” He panted.

“I’m all yours,” you moaned at the thought.

“Mine,” he groaned, his cock twitching before he released inside of you, cum dripping down the backs of your thighs. It felt dirty, but you didn’t care. Tommy Shelby could make a mess of you in front of the entire World’s Fair and you wouldn’t protest.

After a moment of delirious silence, Tommy stood, lighting a cigarette and offering one to you. You took it graciously as he sat next to you, leaning back into the crushed velvet.

“So,” he said, blue eyes looking into yours, “I ripped your garters.” He reached into his discarded pants’ pocket, pulling out a 10 pound note from a huge stack and offering it to you.

“So you can buy new ones,” he spoke, taking a drag from his cigarette.

You accepted it, taking a drag from your cigarette. “So, would this make me a whore now?”

Tommy chuckled. “We’re all whores, Y/N. We just sell different parts.” He took a puff from his cigarette, exhaling softly. “But now, you’re with me. You’re going to have to get used to nicer things, yeah?” His eyes traced your figure before coming back to yours, smiling softly.

“If you say so, Mr. Shelby,” you smiled shyly before putting your cigarette out in the ashtray on the table and retrieving your discarded clothing from around the room, putting it on one piece at a time. You could feel Tommy’s eyes on you as he drank from his glass, and you liked it. Before you could start to make your way to the door, Tommy quickly pressed you up against his desk in a passionate kiss.

He broke the kiss, smirking slightly. “I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah?”

You looked up at him inquisitively. “But I haven’t even given you my number.”

Tommy grinned. “Don’t worry, darling, I’ll get it,” he said, eyes drifting after your figure as you headed for the door. Before you left, you looked up into his ice blue eyes. “Goodnight, Mr. Shelby,” you smiled.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Tommy responded. You closed the door behind you, taking a deep breath after you left his office, already craving his touch on you again.

Tommy Shelby was going to be the goddamn death of you.

[bts-bay-bee]

see you in class, professor kim.

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 1743

Request: married professor!namjoon and single college student!reader, please. smutty as possible.

Warnings: infidelity, professor!namjoon, slight dom!namjoon, college student!reader, let’s pretend miss rona doesnt exist in this, unprotected sex, slight impregnantion kink, creampie, spanking, slight degradation, sex over a desk, finger sucking,

a/n: honestly, you guys always ruin me with these prompts :( enjoy kim namjoon being a distraction in class while I prepare for a new semester! also, please, please, PLEASE do NOT sleep with your professor!!! this is just smut, and it should never be compared to irl. also, this is very random but let me know if youd be interested in a jungkook sm au :)

 “Professor Kim? Y/N from Calc101 is here to see you.” You hear the department secretary say clearly into the telephone, promptly nodding at you, allowing you to walk through the glass doors.

 Nervousness blossomed in the pit of your stomach, each step through the tiled corridor only amplifying it. You could not explain it; you knew that you were about to be severely admonished, yet you could not help but feel giddy; finally, Professor Kim saw you in the way you wanted to be noticed.

 Maybe it was the fact that he had finally noticed how you lingered after class, just to ask questions that he knew you knew the answer to. Maybe it was the fact that you had made the conscious decision to stop wearing panties during your Friday morning class, instead opting to go commando with your too-short skirts.

 “Come in and close the door.” He snapped as soon as he saw you in the doorway of his office. The irritation, and ill-disguised anger laced in his tone made you gulp. Maybe it was the fact that he had enough of your stupid antics… He was a married man, after all.

 Closing the door behind you, you quickly took the seat on the opposite side of the desk, eyes downcast. You dropped your backpack to your feet, belly consumed by nervousness. Bravely, in your opinion, glancing up at him for a brief second, you immediately looked down at the floor again, his gaze much too intense to meet.

 “Did I say you could sit down, Y/N?”

 “N-No, sir.” You mumbled, moving to stand up. He tutted, jerking his head to the side to indicate he wanted you next to his seat. As you were passing the door, he tilted his head, almost pondering something.

 “Lock the door.”

 A smirk threatened to claim your lips; he might be pissed off to no end right now, but he was still about to give you everything you had wanted. Walking over to his side of the desk, your eyes trailed over the pile of test papers he had placed on the mahogany tabletop, seeing your mark sheet on the top.

 “Do you know how I hand back test sheets, Y/N?” He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose as he placed his glasses on the table.

 “Highest grades first.” You mumbled; your confidence shrunk significantly now that he regarded you with bare eyes.

 “And whose paper is on top?” He asked whilst standing up and moving behind you to grab something from the shelf.

 “Mine.”

 “Hmm,” He hummed, pressing his body against your own, drawing a gasp out of you. “You’ve gotten the highest mark, little one. We both know you’re smart, yeah?”

 Nodding desperately, you started grinding your ass against his clothed cock, breathing harshly. His hands latched onto your waist, halting your movement. You could feel his wedding band pressing into you, but right now, you could not care less.

 “If we both know you’re smart,” He began, breathing out gently, hands pressing into your skin almost too harshly. “Why do you stay back to ask questions that even a seventh grader would know? Do you want my attention that badly?”

 “Yes, sir!” You desperately whined, feeling his head dip to your pulse point. Despite being in such close proximity, he did not place his lips on you, instead he just continued teasing you.

 “But you know I’m not single, right?” He asked, trailing his wedding ring over the exposed skin on your leg, the metal bringing a welcome coolness to your over sensitized skin. “You kept trying to seduce a married man?”

 “I knew.” You mumbled, trying to press your ass into his crotch now that his left hand roamed amongst the expanse of your bare thigh.

 “And you still kept flashing your dripping cunt during 8am classes?” He wondered out aloud, right hand travelling further up your body to palm your chest. “You still kept coming up to me with your perky tits? Nipples begging to be sucked?”

 Whining in response, you felt him press your upper body to his desk, immediately flipping over your skirt to reveal your ass and drooling pussy lips. His hand barely ghosted over your skin, skimming over the globes of you ass, fingertip ever so slightly collecting your arousal.

 “You want me that badly, Y/N?” he asked, his voice barely above a murmur, yet still strong, holding a domineering stance. Without waiting for a response, his hand slapped against your sensitive skin, his large palm leaving reddened skin in its wake. He continued bringing down his palm against you, his wedding band leaving darker patches, the metal biting into your skin in the most sinful way.

 Tiny groans left your drying lips, tongue darting out to wet them every minute or so. You could feel his other hand dig into your side, ensuring you did not move from where he wanted you, while he shifted his target to your slightly swollen pussy lips.

 “You hear how wet you are for me?” He asked, voice gruff and low. Dipping two fingers into your core, you knew that if you had a shred of dignity left, you should have been ashamed by the wet sound that rang in your ears. However, Professor Kim seemed to be getting off on this, adding another finger to amplify the squelching sound.

 “S-Sir, please!” You begged, feeling your core pulse at not being filled enough. “Please fuck me. I need your cock!”

 Ripping his fingers out of your cunt, he shoved them into your mouth, making you gag slightly.

 “Shut the fuck up before someone hears you!” He hissed; his mouth right next to your ear. Sucking on his fingers to desperately shut yourself up, you began grinding against him again, basically fucking yourself against his clothed crotch.

 You whined against his fingers, trying not to gag as he pressed his fingers deeper into your mouth.

 “God damn it, I want to fill your mouth so badly,” He murmured, slipping his fingers out from between your lips, your spit gleaming on his skin. You ignored his words, choosing to rub your naked core against his slacks. “Guess that’s going to have to wait, huh? My little slut wants her little cunt to be stuffed, hmm?”

 Nodding silently, body trembling in anticipation, you felt him moving away from your arched body. His free hand moved to his crotch, unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks just enough to let his angry red cock spring out, the tip dribbling the smallest bit of precum on your skin. He aligned himself at your entrance, groaning into your ear as your core squeezed his length. You bit your lip hard to prevent yourself from moaning and whining out in pleasure; the fluttering stretch of your core sending euphoric shockwaves throughout your entire being.

 After giving you the briefest moment to adjust, he began ploughing into you, his skin slapping against your own. His length rubbed against, what seemed like, every nerve ending in your cunt, your wetness only aiding in both of your pleasures.

 Realising that with the harshness of his thrusts, he was making it harder for you to keep quiet, and by extension not alerting anyone in the department offices, you reached behind you and grabbed his hand, plastering it over your mouth to keep your moans contained.

 “Fuck, what a good girl,” He moaned softly, speeding up his thrusts as he used his hand to pull you up, his ring biting into your skin. Professor Kim brought his right hand down to your clit, the rough pads of his fingers pressing down onto the delicate skin, making your knees weak with pleasure. You used your hands to support yourself on the desk, not trusting your legs to work properly whilst he continued to assault the bundle of nerves with unwavering pleasure.

 Tiny moans and sounds escaped your mouth, forced Professor Kim to shove his fingers into your mouth, making you suck on them to shut you up. Unknowingly, your tongue darted out to lick every inch of his skin but settled on the metal band that covered his skin.

 The knowledge of knowing he made the conscious decision to be intimate with you, whilst being someone else’s, made the pleasure multiply tenfold, taking you right on the brink of your high. He seemed to be on the same wavelength, your core fluttering around his cock enough to make his thighs tremble.

 “Are you close, Y/N?” He panted, thrusting into you harder as your cunt became even more difficult to leave. “Pretty, little whore ready to cum over my cock?”

 Nodding uselessly tears gathering in your eyes, your body convulsed around his cock, your entire form being taken over by your climax. Vaguely, you could hear him swearing, profanities still somehow sounding sexy coming from his lips.

 “Fuck, fuck, Y/N,” He groaned, “Going to cum in you, angel. My good girl takes my cum, right? Going to fill you up, Y/N!”

 “Please,” You whispered, feeling his cock throb as you fucked yourself on him. “Fill me up, sir, please.”

 Groaning, he released his hot, sticky seed into your pussy, filling you up. Thrusting into you gently, he squeezed every last drop of his cum into you. Slowly taking his cock out of you, he felt blood rush back to his length when his cum slowly dribbled out of your core; the white seed a stark contrast to your reddened skin.

 Smirking at his handy work, he flipped your skirt back down, scribbling his number onto your hand.

 “Go back home and send me a picture of your pussy stuffed with my cum, okay?” He instructed, almost playfully squeezing your neck. You tried to not let the smirk show on your face, your core clenched, trying to not let his cum spill out of you and onto your thighs.

 “Yes, sir.” You murmured, reaching down to grab your bag, making him groaned at your exposed, and now puffy, pussy lips. “See you in class, Professor Kim.”

[damnlance]

Klance angsty prompt 6 please 👀

Klangst Prompt #6

6. “You’ve never hurt me. Ever”

Summary: Lately, Lance has been stressed beyond the point of breaking… The end of the war was 3 years ago and yet, it’s not enough time to pass for Lance to feel better. Not even close. Everyone has always called him a hero. And since the day they landed back on earth, everyone has gone so far to ask for photos and autographs and all that. These days Lance is sick of it.

Or; the pressures of being the ‘savior of earth’ has been building up inside of Lance, causing him to erupt on any and everyone.

Good thing he has his amazing boyfriend.

-there’s a slow start, but I PROMISE it’s klance so just keep reading!

-also galra (kitten) Keith ?? I love him

-

It all started with a fangirl just a few weeks ago.

Lance decided to walk to his favorite coffee shop one chilly afternoon. He woke up really late and was immediately craving something sweet yet bitter. And since he lives with most of his family, running out of coffee five days after buying a brand new pack of it is very common, especially when no one wants to buy more for whatever reason.

So there Lance was, walking down the street. Hands tucked into his blue lion hoodie (thanks to all the merch the fans of voltron have made over the years), making his way to the closest coffee shop near his home. And then he hears the high pitched squeal of a girl at least 10 feet away from him. Then 9 feet.. then 6.. then 4 because she’s literally running at him with the speed of a hundred cheetahs chasing a gazelle until she’s right there, face to face with Lance.

“Oh my god!!” She yelled, jumping up and down like some 5 year old girl getting a puppy. She was about 5’7, short brown hair and huge blue eyes that almost resembled Lance’s. She wore this giant faux fur coat and beanie to match, and her phone was IN LANCE’S FACE.

She was all over him and it was attracting others to stare their way. Lance tried to calm her down by smiling and using a little of his charm but it was just making the girl fangirl even more. So he took a picture with her to be on his way before the coffee shop got too busy. But she wouldn’t back off. Apparently she wasn’t satisfied with the picture, something about how her eyes were closed? Or how blurry it came out? Lance couldn't remember, he just wanted his coffee.

The girl kept hounding him and following him, demanding that he retake the picture with her. Lance let her down easy, saying how he needed to be someplace important and that he was running late. The girl kept pushing him. Following his every move, right on his heels. Begging, pleading with him to take more pictures because she ‘needed them,’ whatever that meant. Lance tried his hardest to be nice and polite because as a former paladin of voltron and as one of seven someone’s who have saved the entire universe, his image is everything. Without him or his former paladins, there would probably be no earth. So he stopped in his tracks and took a better picture with the girl.

He felt good to see her happy because of something that he had done. Plus he looked really good in that picture, who knew the earth’s natural lighting at 1pm could make his skin look so smooth? Once he gave his approval of the better pic, he was on his way again, hoping that the line to the coffee shop wasn’t even longer now. As he started to fast walk down the busy sidewalk, something yanked him back by the neck and he came crashing down. Literally. He fell right back on his ass and when he looked up, this same crazy girl was looming over him like a mad woman. With his blue hand-knit wool scarf dangling from her grabby hands. The anger that had been simmering in Lance’s gut was at a full blown boil and he was just about ready to explode. So.. he kinda did..

Long and embarrassing story short, Lance yelled at her. He snatched his blue scarf out of her hands so fast, it scared her, and as he rubbed his most likely bruised tailbone, he got in her face and began blaming her for the world's most horrible fan interaction. He was so angry, that he balled his fists, stomped his foot and had veins protruding out of his neck and forehead. He called her names and most likely spit in her face, but he didn’t care. And when he was done, he took a step back and examined the girl in front of him. She was folded in on herself, holding her arms close to her body as her bottom lip quivered and fat, giant tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked so.. mortified. And actually.. scared of him. Like if Lance were to say anything or move a muscle, she’d flinch.

Seconds later, Lance’s face softened into something regretful and he went out to reach for her, to apologize. But, like he knew she would, she flinched. And then hurried away like he was a mad man. All the while crying and clutching her phone to her chest. Lance felt absolutely demolished inside. He tried to go after her but his feet were glued to the cement of the sidewalk. He didn’t even want his coffee anymore.

Thankfully, there were no viral videos or photos or posts about the incident. Lance ended up tracking the girl down a few days later and showered her with all the love he could muster, even taking as many pics as she wanted and liking them on Instagram when she tagged him. But.. something inside him still felt so horrible about the incident. For a moment, Lance had realized that he genuinely hurt that girl for no real reason. He just wanted some coffee but is coffee more important than the people who are thankful and want to show their gratitude for him for everything he did with voltron? If the roles were reversed and he stayed on earth, he would be bending over backwards to let all the paladins know just how thankful he was to live another day on their planet. That girl probably had family, friends, maybe a spouse and kids, and in the midst of that horrible battle 3 years ago, she most likely thought that one of those days would be her last with them.

It broke Lance’s heart thinking about it. He really hurt her. Sure, he made it right and she forgave him, but in that single moment, he actually hurt someone enough to make them cry, to make them run away from him. It was a terrible feeling. It wasn’t Lance. He never wanted that to happen again.

And at the same time.. he.. kinda never wanted to be the savior of earth. Not really.. he just wanted to feel like he had a place in the universe, and to know that he played an important role. That he mattered.

Guess he really matters now..

He sends a long text to Keith with shaky hands.

Message delivered..

The second he walked through the door, his phone rang. It was a three-way call with Hunk and Pidge. Lance pressed the green button to answer and placed the phone to his ear. Immediately, Hunk starts going on and on about how much he misses Lance and when the next time they’ll see each other will be. Lance smiled at his best friend’s inability to ever take a breath between sentences and replied with a warm ‘I miss you too, buddy.’ They got to catching up as Lance ordered his garlic knots and sat down at a private booth near the back of the place. He didn’t want to draw any attention to himself, especially when he got the call from his best friends.

Hunk tells him all the great things that’s been happening at the Garrison and even on the Atlas. He tells him how his restaurant is doing and how his family is doing and how Shay is doing. Pidge catches him up on things with her family, some new inventions she’s been working on, and how being the youngest teacher at the Garrison is going. Lance listens and gives his two cents on everything his friends tell him and honestly, he couldn’t be more happy for them. The way they were able to just get their lives together 3 years after the war is.. incredible. It made him think about everything he’s done since the war ended. Which wasn’t much.. he took over his family’s farm and brought it back to life, he helps out Colleen, Pidge’s mom, with medicine and finding cures to strange space illnesses with plants she has him grow on his farm, and his family’s market wouldn’t be as popular or swarming with business if he didn’t work there. Sad but true. And that’s really it. He hasn’t done much else. Nothing life changing or breathtaking like his friends.

But Hunk and Pidge don’t need to know that. So he simply replies with: “Oh, ya know.. same old, same old,” and hopes it works enough to keep the conversation flowing and follow up questions at bay. It does.

30 minutes into their conversation and Lance is starting to feel a little.. agitated. With the garlic knots consumed and digesting in his stomach, he sits in the booth, alone, listening to his friends go on and on and on about their perfect jobs and their perfect little lives. He gets lost a few times and at one point has literally no idea what they’re talking about. When he tries to ask what or who or even get the slightest details, Pidge lets out a sigh that Lance can’t help but feel like is out of annoyance. Lance sighs back and continues to stay silent because obviously he’s not getting anywhere. Why even bother putting him on a call that Hunk and Pidge could have just had on their own??

Balling his fist, Lance let out a loud, overdramatic sigh. He didn’t care if his friends heard it or how they took it. He was upset. The conversation between his two friends comes to a halt and then awkward silence. Pidge is the first to speak up with a:

“Something you wanna add, Lance?” The annoyance in her voice is very much there and Lance doesn’t miss it. He scoffs loudly and grits his teeth.

“No.” He says, voice deepening in anger.

“Oh really?” Pidge asks, poking the sleeping bear that lies dormant in lance. “Cause it sure sounds like it to me. Why don’t you stop being such a fucking child and tell us what’s bothering you this time??”

Lance damn near growls.

The line has gone quiet now. Hunk’s unsteady breathing is audible but other than that, silence. Lance digs his nails into the skin of his palms and tries to keep the angry tears in his eyes from falling down his cheeks. With a deep shaky breath, he smiles through the pain.

“You know what, Katie,” Lance spits and it makes Hunk gasp. “Fuck YOU and this stupid, shitty attitude you have all the time!”

“Oh, god..” Hunk winces.

“I don’t know what the actual fuck crawled up your ass,” Lance continues, “but I’m sick of it! I've been sick of it for years! I’m sick of keeping my mouth shut and quite frankly, I’m sick of YOU!”

Lance is standing up out of his seat now. His chest heaves up and down as the angry tears have fallen past his face and down his neck. His voice is two octaves deep from anger and the skin of his palm is bloody from how hard he’s digging his nails into it. The place has gone quiet now and Lance can feel multiple pairs of eyes on him. So much for not drawing any attention to himself.

The line is quiet. Then, the sound of a huff of breath. A small laugh.. And then:

“Wow. Nice one, McClain..” Pidge’s voice is small, but so full of something. “Go screw yourself, you asshole.”

The call ends. Whether Pidge or Hunk ended it, is unclear.

Minutes pass, and Lance is still standing in the same place with the phone to his ear. Tears are running down his face, and his Altean marks are buzzing so loud in his ears. His heart is pounding in his ribcage and ice cold sorrow runs through his veins..

He sends a long text to Keith with shaky hands.

Message delivered...

Now, exactly 3 months since that little incident, Lance sits alone in his home. In his childhood bedroom he can’t seem to rearrange because he’s still holding out hope that one day he’ll turn back time and be his child self and get a redo on his life. But hey, it’s better this way. After the whole dilemma with Pidge, Hunk tried to call Lance to help but ended up getting his feelings hurt. Yep. By Lance. Because Lance is a big jerk and can’t stop hurting everyone around him.

So he hasn’t talked to Pidge or Hunk since then. Mostly out of guilt and shame because those two are supposed to be his bestest friends and he hurt them. Nothing he could say or do could make up for his selfish mind and stupid mouth. Lance had this whole plan to go to Shiro about it, to get his advice so Lance could make it all better.

But Pidge being Pidge.. texted the whole thing in their group chat and.. well.. everyone saw it. Shiro, Hunk, Matt, even Keith possibly! It got so bad that Lance’s phone kept going off with alerts from everyone asking what happened and what he said. Curtis tried calling him and left a few messages. Shiro left him a long voicemail. And of course the word traveled so fast that it reached New Altea and Coran got involved. Which caused Romelle to be involved, too. She gossiped to Acxa, who told her girlfriend, who happens to be Lance’s sister, Veronica. Veronica blabbed to Rachel, who blabbed to Marco, who blabbed to Luis.. who blabbed to Lance’s dad.. WHO BLABBED TO LANCE’S MOM. And boy did she have some interesting words for him in the SEVEN, LONG voicemails asking exactly ‘what happened’and ‘why The Holt siblings were so angry with him.’

Everything escalated so fast. Lance can’t even remember what he said. Or why he said it. Since the war ended, it’s been so hard on him. Sure, it’s been hard on everyone, but for Lance it’s been different. Everyone looks up to him for some reason and expects him to do so good and be the hero they all think he is, when in reality? He was just a leg…

Exactly what did he gain from being a paladin of voltron anyway?? Get banged up and bruised almost everyday he was out there? Have people on his case, constantly reminding him how unimportant he was to the team? Pointing out all of his flaws and mistakes and focusing on those when there’s a million other good things he’s done that towers over all the bad shit?? Sure, he returned home to his family who he literally missed and cried for every single day, but he lost the love of his life in the process.

To put it all out there, Lance didn’t really gain anything. He got to travel through space, which was his dream since he was a little kid, and then space chewed him up and spit him out as some fake hero with PTSD and other trauma that will haunt him for the rest of his pathetic life.

So.. these past 3 months.

Lance has been sitting up in his childhood room.

Wishing he could use the power of Altea or something to turn back time.

And be his younger self.

His innocent self.

His happier self.

Back when he wasn’t so fucked up and had dreams and goals.

Back when everyone was proud of him.

Back to when he didn’t know who Allura was or that she even existed. Back to when Voltron didn’t exist either and everything was fucking fine.

Staring up at his ceiling, Lance counts the glow in the dark stars that he’s had up there since he was six years old. Somehow they’re still glowing and Lance is thankful for that because at 3 in the morning when the world is fast asleep and everything is pitch black, he could use the light.

It comforts him. Reminds him of a simpler, more happier time in his life.

Something sharp digs through Lance’s chest as he stares at those fake neon stars, and it hurts really bad. His breathing begins to quicken, matching the beat of his heart, and a lump finds its way up his throat. Tears pool in the rim of his eyes and spill down the corners, streaming down the sides of his face.

And they don’t stop. The stars get blurrier as Lance’s breathing gets heavier. His body begins to tremble with every hiccup of a sob that pours out of him and he’s crying so hard that his brain throbs in his head.

He curls in on himself in his bed and wraps his arms around his torso, crying uncontrollably into his space themed pillow. His Altean marks begin to buzz and glow and he can’t bring himself to care because all he wants to do is disappear.

Disappear from this game called life.

He types a text to Keith with teary eyes and a quivering bottom lip.

Message.. deleted…

As 3 in the morning turns to 4, a pod lands in the grass just a couple yards away from Lance’s farm. Boot covered feet step out of said pod and touch the wet grass waiting for them. It’s still dark out and the only light visible are the fireflies that buzz around a pair of cowboy booted feet. Those booted feet begin to walk, carrying a tall, broad, raven haired stranger up a hill to Lance’s home. The frogs and crickets seem to grow louder as the stranger in black cowboy boots makes their way to the front porch and pulls back the creaky screen door to a cold, locked doorknob. A set of keys are pulled out and a specific blue key is pushed inside the lock, turning and unlocking the door. The stranger walks in and is instantly met.. with..

Crying??

“H-Hello??” The stranger calls out. “Lance?”

The crying stops.

It’s dead quiet..

The door shuts on its own and the echo around the house is eery.

Light footsteps descend the stairs and before they know it, the stranger is being tackled to the ground in a bear hug.

“Ah-! Lance!?” They yell as the duffel bag from their hand falls to the ground.

“Keith!!” Lance yells out, voice rasped from endless crying.

Keith can immediately hear it and wraps his arms around Lance so tight, holding him close. His eyes glow yellow, something that usually happens out of fear, anger, or protectiveness, and his lips protrude to make way for his double set of fangs that are ready to bite any and everyone.

“Lance!” Keith tries to sit up but is pinned to the ground with all of Lance’s dead body weight. “Lance, honey, are you hurt? What’s wrong??”

A hand through curly brown locks and Lance’s crying dies down. He snuggles his face into Keith’s neck and hiccups through a response. Something too incoherent for Keith to make out, but he feels it has something to do with why he was told to go home ASAP.

A few weeks ago, Keith was contacted by Acxa via video chat. They talked and caught up for a few minutes before Acxa told Keith the real reason for her call. She explained that Veronica was having a tough time reaching out to Lance and that he might be in some kind of trouble. Not knowing the full extent of the story, Acxa only told Keith what she heard from Veronica and others. Fearing the worst, Keith packed up his shit and set a course for Earth as fast as he could.

Unfortunately, there were some setbacks on his way over where he had to make a few stops to tend to aliens in need because after all, that’s still his job as a blade member, but when that got finished, Keith hightailed it over. His Galra instincts wouldn't allow him to stay away for much longer anyway and having accepted his galra side a long time ago, it would have been best for everyone to let him go home.

Keith now lays in Lance’s bed, every inch of Lance’s body wrapped up around him like a snake. Keith strokes Lance’s hair soothingly and holds him close to his chest, right over his beating heart. A deep, soothing purr emits itself from Keith’s body and calms Lance’s nerves right down to the bone. Keith knows how much Lance adoreshis Galran features and at this point, Keith would do absolutely anything for Lance to feel better.

They talked about everything that happened and are now in the cuddle stage. Lance has his eyes shut, listening to Keith purr just for him. Long limbs wrapped around every inch of his boyfriend while Keith’s long nails scratch at his scalp, life is so good.

Life is so good with Keith around.

“So,” Keith says, voice as calm as ever. “What exactly did Pidge say?”

“Oh,” Lance answers, his voice quiet as a mouse. “You didn’t see the messages in the group chat?”

“No.” Keith shrugs, laying his cheek against Lance’s forehead. “Been kinda busy.. And I actually don’t understand how a group chat works.”

That rises a chuckle out of Lance as he sits up a bit to reach for his phone on the bedside dresser.

“Idiot,” he whispers with a small smile on his face and it makes Keith light up, his purring becoming a bit louder.

Lance lays back on Keith’s chest as he scrolls through the messages on his phone. When he finds the message from Pidge, Lance clears his scratchy throat and sniffs.

“From Pidgeotto,” he starts, looking at Pidge’s name in their ✨Paladudes✨ group chat. “Just an FYI lance is a.. a total fucking jackass and I am no longer friends with him..”

Keith immediately frowns at that.

Lance continues. “He can suck my big toe for all I care. I’m done with him. Have fun being a lonely loser @LanceyPants.”

“What the fuck?” Keith says, eyes glowing yellow in the dark room. “Why would she say that!?”

Lance shakes his head, tears forming in his eyes again. “Because she was right. I am a jackass..”

“Lance, no!” Keith sits up, bringing Lance with him. They sit side by side as Lance holds himself and looks down at his space blanket. He shrugs once and sniffs.

“Keith, stop,” he says, wiping a tear from his eye. “Look, I said some very hurtful things to her and she lashed out in a perfectly normal way..”

“Normal!?” Keith scoffs, grabbing Lance’s phone and rereading the message again. “Jackass? Loser?? Come on, Lance, she’s completely bullying you and you know it!”

Lance whips around with an angry expression on his face “Because I deserve it!”

The room grows quiet. Keith takes a deep breath and reaches over to grab Lance’s shoulders.

“Calm.” He says, taking a deep breath for Lance to mimic. Lance takes a deep breath with him and lets it out. Keith begins to purr again and it calms Lance even more.

“I.. Sorry..”

Keith nods. He reaches up to cup Lance’s cheek and rubs his thumb across Lance’s tear stained eye.

“You know I would never hurt anyone on purpose..” Lance sniffs. “That’s not who I am. I’m just.. I’m tired of being this symbol of everything strong and good and brave.”

“Mhm,” Keith rubs Lance’s back, leaning in closer to him to nuzzle his forehead. Lance nuzzles back and Keith’s purrs.

“I keep.. I keep hurting everyone I care about..” Lance whispers in a voice so low and fragile, it nearly shatters Keith’s heart.

“That’s not true.” Keith pulls back a little to look into Lance’s teary blue eyes. “Lance, you are the most incredible, selfless, honest person I’ve ever known. You are strong and good and brave even if you don’t mean to be. Or want to be.”

Lance pulls away and stares at his hands. Keith keeps his eyes focused on Lance.

“I know you think you hurt that fangirl from a few months ago.” Keith continues. “Or Pidge. Or Hunk. Or your parents or friend or family or whoever, but you could never hurt anyone.”

“Yeah, right,” Lance shakes his head. “I already did. I hurt everyone.”

“And even if that’s true,” Keith grabs Lance’s hands in his own, “which it’s not, you’re not doing it on purpose. You have a right to your own feelings! And you have a right to speak your mind.”

“And what if that hurts people??” Lance looks up and meets teary eyes to indigo ones. “What if I accidentally hurt my mama or my sisters or brothers, or nieces and nephews because I can’t be who they want me to be, who they think I am!?”

“Lance,” Keith shakes his head.

“What if I hurt you???” Lance’s eyes go wide. He looks Keith up and down and exhales a panicked breath. “God, Keith.. wh-what if I hurt you??”

“Oh, Lancey,” Keith sighs that lovey-dovey sigh where his eyes go all big and black like a cat’s, and the purr in his chest gets louder. “You’ve never hurt me. Ever.”

Lance stares into Keith’s eyes like they’re his lifeline.

“B-but.. but what if-?”

“No more what if’s!” Keith cuts Lance off by covering his mouth with his hand. “Listen to me, Lance. Are you listening??”

Lance nods repeatedly.

“Good,” Keith smiles, all crooked and cute and beautiful. “The only person you ever need to worry about hurting is yourself.”

And there it is. The one thing Lance has been dying to hear without knowing he’d been dying to hear it. It’s like a breath of fresh air, or cool rain on a hot and sweaty day. The permission he needed but didn’t really need. He has a right to care about himself and put himself first but whenever he tries, the guilt eats him alive. Why should he care about himself when he has to care more about others???

No. That’s not the case. It’s never been the case.

“You’ve gotta stop doing this to yourself,” Keith finishes, stroking the endless sea of tears that are falling from Lance’s eyes. He strokes Lance’s glowing Altean marks and leans forward to kiss one softly. Lance trembles slightly, closing his eyes to bask in the moment.

“I’m sure Pidge has gotten over it by now,” Keith reassures. “She just has too much pride to make the first more and apologize. You know how she is.”

“Y-Yeah,” Lance hiccups, nodding.

“And Hunk?” Keith scoffs. “I bet your mailbox is full of letters from him, explaining how sorry he is and hoping you’re doing alright. You know if he can’t reach you from your phone, he has other ways.”

That makes Lance smile.

“There’s probably cookies on the way right now.” He looks into Keith’s eyes, exhaling a small laugh.

“Oh, yeah,” Keith agrees, laughing that angelic laugh and showing off his perfect pearly fangs. Lance’s heart skips a fucking beat.

“And your fangirl?” Keith’s purring stops. “Well, she never should have gotten all up in your space that’s for sure. You had every right to punch her.”

“Keith!” Lance squeaks, face contorting into shock and confusion. “I-I didn’t punch her!”

“Really?” Confusion etches itself all over Keith’s features and he puts a finger to his chin. “I could have sworn I read that in your text.”

“No way, man!” Lance defends, waving his arms around. “Why would I ever in my life-!” He stops mid sentence to see the shit-eating grin plastered on Keith’s face.

“Just kiddin, lil lady,” Keith says in his best southern accent, smiling big and wide.

Lance bursts out into a fit of laughter, hitting Keith’s chest and arms and back. Keith shields himself and laughs, grabbing Lance’s arms and bringing him down onto the mattress. They fall back with Keith looming over Lance, his long raven hair surrounding their faces.

Lance stares up into those beautiful, indigo eyes and sniffs, unable to look away. He reaches up and cups Keith’s face, rubbing his thumb over Keith’s Galran stripe.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Keith asks in his softest voice, eyes roaming from Lance’s teary blue eyes to his luscious lips.

“Yes,” Lance nods, not even bothering to blink because if he does, he’ll miss Keith’s everything.

“Don’t let anyone get you down, my sweetheart.” Keith whispers, leaning in closer. “Ever.”

Lance nods.

“And if they do,” Keith’s face turns serious, indigo eyes going dark. “I’ll bite their throats out and hand them to you on a silver platter.”

“Keith,” Lance exhales, going red in the face and ears. “Holy shit, you can’t just say things l-like that.”

Keith’s hard demeanor falls as he giggles and leans in close. Before they close the gap between their lips, Lance whispers, “And hey. I thought pet names were my thing?”

And Keith kisses him to shut him up.

They kiss like they haven’t seen each other in years and it’s the greatest Lance has ever felt. Keith kisses like he’s starving for it, craving it so much more than air and it’s hot and powerful and so, so damn good.

Lance wraps his arms and legs around Keith’s body and kisses him back with fervor. He allows Keith to make him feel better, and kisses his pain away. Keith pulls away slowly, licking into Lance’s mouth before he does so. Lance lets out a small groan and smiles before he opens his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispers, tucking some hair behind Keith’s ear.

“I love you, more,” Keith whispers back, settling himself between Lance’s legs. “Feeling any better?”

“A little,” Lance looks away, sniffling a little. His eyes focus back to Keith’s and a small smile appears on his kiss swollen lips. “But I know a great way you can make me feel all the way better.”

“Oh, yeah,” Keith smirks, burying his face into Lance neck to start kissing slowly. “And what’s that?”

Lance giggles like a little kid, running his hands up and down Keith’s sides. When Keith pulls back, he trails his kisses up the side of Lance’s face and stops at his Altean mark.

“Make love to me,” Lance whispers, rubbing his nose against Keith’s. “Touch me all over and hold me until the sun comes up and just.. love me. Please..”

Keith’s face softens into something full of love and adoration. He moves forward to peck Lance’s lips, then his chin, and then his other Altean mark.

“Anything you want, my sweet..” he kisses Lance’s cheek. “Beautiful..” he kisses Lance’s jaw. “Amazing.. wonderful..”

“Alright, enough!” Lance laughs, slapping Keith in the back. His cheeks are on fire as he closes his eyes when Keith starts nibbling on his neck with his fangs. A chill runs down Lance’s spine and tingles to his toes, making them curl.

Keith sits up one last time and stares at Lance like he’s the world.

“I’ll take good care of you, baby.” He says with the utmost truth in his sultry voice. “I promise. We’re in this together.”

“Yeah,” Lance nods, letting his tears fall down his face and glowing Altean marks. “Together.”

And as Keith kisses Lance so lovingly, Lance can’t help but be glad that he can’t turn back time to be his younger self. Because with Keith around, he feels all the happiness in the whole world just like he did when he was young.

-END-

(send me a klangst prompt)

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

kisses #14 for jmart? write or draw, whichever you prefer!

For the prompt "kissing each other breathless". I ended up going for Old Guard AU yonmartin for this one, and naturally it got VERY long and plot focused, so,, apologies hflksjdfk. There are some Pahlavi and Latin words/references in this, and I've put the meanings for all of them at the bottom of the fic! :0 Hope you enjoy!!

———————————————

Yonatan doesn’t generally consider himself a pessimist, but right now, he has to admit that he’d been expecting this whole trip to go wrong.

He had voiced as much when, days ago, Martinus had first presented the idea of returning to his hometown to see the sights, but Martinus had shaken his head and promised that all would be fine, that ten years would be far enough time for his former allies to give up searching for him, and they would be able to blend in as well as anyone.

Yonatan had been skeptical, claiming that ten years might have been enough to cease a rescue, but not enough to suppress the memory of a face, especially if they came across anyone Martinus had known, and if it came to a fight, Yonatan alone would not be able to hold back a whole force of Byzantine soldiers.

“Deliciae*, they won’t be looking for me,” Martinus had argued and taken Yonatan’s hand in his own, rubbing a thumb over his knuckles. “You remember what we left behind. They have no reason to suspect there were survivors.”

Yonatan had squeezed his hand and frowned, glancing up at his love from where his head rested on his shoulder. “Even if that is true, you could still be recognized. People knew you.”

“We won’t stay long enough for that to happen,” Martinus had assured him; all confidence, all certainty. “Please, I want to share this with you.”

And Yonatan had said yes, because of course he had. Martinus had looked so eager, so excited to share this piece of his life with him, and Yonatan had never been able to refuse him when he glowed like that.

Now, however, he wishes that he had.

It hadn’t taken long for everything to spin wildly out of control. Ten years had in fact not been enough to dull the memory of Martinus’s old allies, and an aging man dressed in familiar armor had cried out in alarm as he turned his face upon the pair of them in the marketplace. A fellow soldier - Martinus had identified him as - who had fallen ill shortly before their battalion was sent out, stopped in his tracks to gape at Martinus, his face going slack in disbelief.

The man’s shock had turned to fury faster than Martinus could attempt to deny his own identity, and then the marketplace had been swarming with onlookers and soldiers, all straining for a look at the so-called ‘deserter’. Yonatan had held tight to his beloved’s arm through the mounting noise, but then there were rough hands pulling Martinus away from Yonatan’s grip, more and more of them appearing when he shoved them away, and Yonatan should have been able to hold them off, to push them back, away from his love, but he saw the look in Martinus’s eyes as his hand fell on the hilt of his sword, and had realized that the gathering forces would be too much for him even if he did strike, undying though he was, and he had hesitated when it mattered most. The other soldiers had gripped his arms then and wrenched him to the ground, sealing their separation, and then Yonatan had watched as his beloved was ripped away and degraded for a crime that these men had no ability to understand.

Coward, they had called Martinus with spitting voices. Traitor.

God, he can’t imagine how much it must hurt Martinus to be treated this way by those he once called friends. Yonatan’s hands had shaken with the weight of their ignorance, cast so effortlessly at a man who didn’t deserve a syllable of it, but his fury could not change the fact that Martinus had been taken, and so Yonatan found himself abandoned in the center of the marketplace, surrounded by fallen produce and pastries, utterly alone for the first time in a decade.

He is now trying not to fall into the panic of that isolation as he searches for the prison where they have dragged his beloved, asking pedestrians in the street and following the clearly defined tracks of a struggle marking the dirt roads. He tries not to look too hard at the scattered dust underfoot, tries not to imagine angry hands around his gentle wrists, cruel tongues lashing at his ears. What if they hurt him on the way there? These soldiers are known for the punishment they bestow upon their captive foes; what if they attempt to maim Martinus the same? And then… What if, in doing so, they realize his secret? What if Yonatan is wrong about where he’s been taken, and cannot find him again? What if Yonatan does find him, but he cannot free him? What if Martinus is separated from him forever; cast out to sea or buried beneath stone or locked away somewhere unreachable? Yonatan feels his heart pounding in his chest in fear and tries to get his thoughts under control.

He is a warrior, whether he likes that fact or not, and his long years of fond sparring with Martinus have only sharpened that training, so he can handle this. He will handle this, he corrects himself, as he finally catches sight of the prison where Martinus has been discarded. He is more than a soldier now; he is half of a whole, and he has no intention of letting his beloved go that easily, especially not to some pretentious, dujdaft** Byzantians.

Besides, he tries to reason with himself as he looks over the small, stone prison, it isn’t as if they’ve dragged him to Anōšbord***. The building before him is fortified, certainly, but hardly a castle, and Yonatan doubts that it counts as any sort of masterful architecture. It doesn’t look big enough to hold more than a few other prisoners anyways, so he will be fine. He will walk out with his love like always, and then they will go back to their sanctuary together. They will be safe.

Yonatan repeats this to himself for hours as he forces himself to be still, lying in wait with bouncing legs and tapping fingers until the darkness of night falls around his shoulders like a cloak, and he is able to sneak close enough to see the prison guard’s head begin to droop. Finally, he thinks, and unsheathes his sword.

Yonatan holds his breath as he slinks around the entrance to the prison and strikes the guard from behind. The man barely has time to gasp in surprise before Yonatan brings the wrapped hilt of his blade down hard against the back of his head, his knees giving out as unconsciousness quickly takes him over. Yonatan hadn’t aimed to kill; he remembers Martinus’s eyes in the marketplace when Yonatan’s hand had brushed his sword, and honestly, he can’t bring himself to feel anything but relief for the excuse to avoid any further violence. He has enough blood on his hands to last a lifetime already, and he isn’t exactly eager to dip his hands in more.

Once he’s certain the soldier is out cold, Yonatan does his best to prop him up against the wall where he had been standing, and then, carefully, nicks the keys from his pocket and slips through the front entrance into the prison.

He hadn’t expected it to be so dark, he thinks at first, noting only a few lone torches illuminating the inside of the structure, but he quickly brushes aside the concern. Even if there was no light in here at all, he would find Martinus by touch alone; by voice or by smell. He puts a hand to the wall and withdraws one of the dark torches from its position on the stones, strikes it alight, and ventures deeper into the prison.

The cells are unmarked, but there are only a few prisoners and metal doors are easy enough to see through, so Yonatan makes quick work of checking through them, not sparing a second glance to any sleeping forms he doesn’t recognize, letting his eyes slide off one person to the next until he finally catches the wide eyes of Martinus - very awake and silently waving towards him - and runs immediately to his door. The torch clatters from his hand as he falls to his knees at once, eyes locked on the face of the man he loves.

“Martinus,” he gasps out in relief, wrestling the keys from his pocket and wrenching the lock on the door open without care for silence.

“Took you long enough,” Martinus breathes as he tumbles through the door, although his eyes are shining in the torchlight, and his chest is hitching with emotion, and he is clinging onto Yonatan’s arms the moment they’re close enough to touch. Yonatan feels a smile bursting across his face and tears pricking at his eyes as he returns the touch, wrapping his arms immediately around his beloved, his partner, his grāmīg****, feeling the press of his body against his, all the softness of his chest and stomach and arms, fitting perfectly into Yonatan’s arms and heart.

“Dušāgāh wīr*****,” he mutters into Martinus’s hair, the teasing insult leaving his lips like a blessing, and then he’s pulling back from the embrace and grabbing onto Martinus’s gorgeously round cheeks and sealing their lips together firmly, the kiss all pent up worry and relief and love, always love.

Martinus makes a small noise of surprise, barely a whisper, but quickly melts into the kiss, hands coming up to cup the sides of Yonatan’s face as he kisses him again and again and again, answering Yonatan’s relief with his own.

“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Yonatan pulls back suddenly, twisting Martinus this way and that in his arms, searching for drops of blood or torn fabric or anything to indicate that an injury might have befallen his loved one’s skin in his absence.

“No, no.” Martinus shakes his head, breathless. “I— They were going to, I think, but not yet.”

“Good,” Yonatan’s voice burns in his chest, relief scorching his throat, and he draws Martinus in to kiss him again, deeper this time, and a hint almost possessive in the way his hands curl around Martinus’s shoulders and his lips capture his. Martinus holds him back just as tightly, winding his hands in his hair and rubbing over his shoulders before finally tugging him away and breaking the kiss, ignoring the disappointed frown that tugs at Yonatan’s brow.

“Okay, okay. We still have to get out of here, cara******.” He mumbles, struggling to find the stuttering breath in his lungs, still overwhelmed by the kiss of the man he’s stood beside for over a decade.

“We will,” Yonatan agrees, his heart lighter now with the familiar presence of Martinus here to accompany him, and leans in to press one final kiss to his beloved’s soft jaw before stepping away and nodding. “Together, like always.”

Martinus smiles and takes his hand, and the pair of them take their steps together, like always.

* Deliciae - Latin for “darling” ** dujdaft - Pahlavi for “ill-breathing” *** Anōšbord - Also known as the Castle, or Prison of Oblivion. This was a castle and political prison in the Sasanian Empire that held several notable members of royalty over the centuries. **** grāmīg - Pahlavi for “dear” or “treasured” ***** Dušāgāh wīr - Pahlavi for “foolish man” ****** cara - Latin for “dear”

[imagines-r-s]

silver - n. patrick

ok, so this is my first time writing anything to do with the NHL, so feedback is greatly appreciated

Nolan Patrick x reader

summary: the one where everyone around you is annoyed of how oblivious the two of you are

my requests are open-- taglist: @sortagaysortahigh

wc: 7.9k

a/n: this is one of my favorite things i’ve ever written omg. also huge shoutout to @barbienoturbby​ and @sunsetholland​ for reading this and for validation

warnings: angst, mutual pining, a few swear words, you and nol being oblivious, fighting, brief mention of injury

(gif not mine)

When you got the ‘SOS’ text from Nolan, you quickly assumed the worst. Knowing that he had just gotten out of practice you assumed he had gotten hurt during practice or he was dealing with another migraine and since it was your day off from your job as the Flyers trainer, you assumed the worst - one of your coworkers was there, but that didn’t mean that Nolan would go to them. You were caught even more off guard when he sent a second text a few minutes later, ‘i’m picking you up in 15. be ready’

The cryptic messages from your best friend weren’t helping your confusion, so you decided the best option was to call him. He picked up shortly after the second ring, “Hey y/n/n, what’s up?”

“What’s up? That’s all you have to say after those wack text messages?”

“Um, when you put it like that? Then yes,” you didn’t have to see his face to know that he was smirking, “anyways, I just parked, so I’ll be up to your apartment soon, bye.” 

With that, he ended the call, once again adding to your confusion. Deciding the only thing you could honestly do, you got up from your couch and got dressed. You were halfway through getting your hair done when you heard the door to your apartment unlock. 

Walking towards the door you saw Nolan, his hair still somewhat wet since he rushed here after practice. “Okay, do I get some form of explanation, or are you just going to stand there?”

“Look, I kinda fucked up. But just hear me out, okay?” he rushed out as he paced your living room.

“What do you mean you kinda fucked up?”

“Okay, so... at practice, me and the boys were talking about the charity gala that’s this Friday and a few comments might have been made about how I don’t have a date.”

“Let me guess. And your dumbass went, ‘I have a date, blah, blah, blah, who just happens to work for our team and you all know her’ and I got roped into the equation?” you said, jokingly.

“Wait, how’d you know?” he said with no hint of humor in his voice.

“Wait, you’re serious? I just assumed you needed me to find you a date? But you said I was your date?” heat rushed to your face at the thought of being Nolan’s fake date to the gala. You don’t know how you’re supposed to make it a whole night while having to pretend to be his. 

He simply nodded in response, “Please, y/n/n. It would mean so much. You obviously don’t have to and I can just say you can’t make it or whatever, but-”

“Nol, it’s fine,” you said, cutting off his rambling, “I’m pretty sure I need a dress though.” 

Nolan’s smile grew when he heard what you said, “Yeah, that’s why I came here. I kinda figured you’d say yes anyway, so it just kinda worked out.” 

“Oh, don’t try to act all cocky on me now, you were just pacing my living room in fear that I would say no.”

“Besides the point. Anyways, let’s go get you that dress,” Nolan said, grabbing your hand and leading you out the apartment. You did your best to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as your hand intertwined with his.  

“So, what does your suit look like?” you asked as you glanced around the store for a dress. “Oh, I was just thinking simple black, but I’ll match the tie with whatever color your dress or shoes are. We have to make sure they think we’re actually together.”

“Y-yeah. You’re right,” his words hurt you a little more than they should have. He was right. This wasn’t real and if you didn’t sell it well enough then Nolan would get the backhand of it. “What if I got that black dress over there?” you pointed to a simple off the shoulder black dress with a slit up to your mid-thigh,” and then get colorful shoes that you can get a tie to match?”

You missed the way Nolan gulped when you were busy looking for your size. He already knew the dress would look amazing on you, so when you found your size he knew he was in for it. “I’m going to go try this on real quick, I’ll be back,” you said before making your way to talk to an associate there. 

As soon as you stepped out of the dressing room in the dress, he knew he was screwed. His mind immediately going places that it shouldn’t have.“Nol, what do you think?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. He was thinking a lot more than he should have. “Oh, uh, you look beautiful, y/n,” he forced out. 

“I feel like this look would need a statement necklace or something to go with it, to kinda draw it all together, you know,” you said before doing a spin, “I don’t think I’m going to get it though.”

“You’re getting it,” he insisted. He didn’t care about the price, he knew that the dress was meant for you. He didn’t care that he might only see it once, but he could tell you loved the dress. He also loved you in the dress. 

Whenever you got home that night, you were met with your roommate in the kitchen. “So, you going to tell me where you and Nolan were all day? And don’t try to deny it, I heard your conversation this morning about the gala,” Mae teased. 

Mae had known you long enough to know how you felt about Nolan, she also knew Nolan well enough to know how he felt about you. Being the photographer for the Flyers, gave her an insight into the many interactions that you and Nolan had - both of you always looking for the other when there’s practice or a game, stolen glances when he’s on the bench, and him going out of his way to see you in your office (even when he isn’t hurt). She knew that if the two of you just said how you felt, that the two you would be happy with each other.  

“If you heard our conversation, I don’t know why you’re asking what we did. We went shopping, that’s all.”

“Have y’all confessed your love for each other yet? Or is it still ‘unknown’ information?”

“It’s all very one-sided and you know that.”

“Not according to Kevin,” you scoffed.

“Okay, so one person says otherwise.”

“Or TK, or Hartsy, or-”

“Okay, okay. I get it.”

“Pretty much anyone on the Flyers roster would agree with me,” Mae said, making sure her point was clear. Even with everything she said, you still didn’t believe her. “You should honestly just talk to him. And maybe actually be honest about how you feel for once.”

“Anyways, I have to go shower now. I still have to get some stuff ready for the gala tomorrow,” you left before she could say anything more.

…..

Nolan had decided to take it upon himself to make sure you had the best possible day that you could. Since he didn’t have practice, he decided to go to your favorite bakery and get you breakfast and your favorite coffee. Knowing that you most likely wouldn’t be up for a while, he swung by a jewelry shop to get you a necklace to go with your dress to ‘bring the look together’. 

“Hello sir, how can I help you today?” the salesperson said when Nolan walked in. 

“Oh, so I was wondering if you had any type of hockey charms? Or initial charms?”

“Yes, we do actually. Silver or gold?”

“Definitely silver,” he said, thinking back to your shoes and his tie.

“Alright, if you’ll follow me,” the man led Nolan over to a glass display, directing him to the sports charms that they had. When Nolan saw the hockey charms, he smiled at the thought of you wearing it. “And what initial did you want, sir?”

“An ‘N’ “

After he paid for the necklace he made his way towards your apartment. Using the spare key you had given him when you took into account how many times he came over, he opened your front door. 

“I still forget the fact that you have a key,” Mae said looking up from the couch, “Is that what I think it is?”

“Which thing?” Nolan said, setting his keys down on the counter. He noticed that you weren’t in the living room and assumed you were still asleep.  

“I was just talking about the coffee and bag from the cafe, but is there something else?”

Nolan simply nodded, “yeah, I just want y/n to have a good day since she’s going with me to the gala.” 

Mae eyed him suspiciously, “What else did you get her?”

“Huh?” 

“You said ‘which thing’, which hints that there’s more than just coffee.”

“Oh, I got her a necklace for tonight.”

“Did you give her a key to your apartment and an engagement ring, too? Or is that next week?”

Nolan simply rolled his eyes at her statement, “It’s not like that.”

“It’s only that way because both of you are stubborn and oblivious. Did you get me a bagel or just her?” Mae said, glancing at the bag. Nolan nodded before getting everything out of the bag, “thanks, Nolan.”

He made his way towards your room, quietly opening the door to make sure not to wake you. Stopping for a moment at your door when he saw your sleeping form, before making his way to your bed. “y/n/n, I got you your favorite,” he said gently. 

“Too early,” you groaned into your pillow, causing Nolan to laugh. “Babe, it’s 1 pm and Mae said you even went to bed early,” Nolan didn’t realize what he had said, but after hearing him say that nickname you were wide awake. 

“It’s still too early,” you said, finally sitting up, “but what did you get me?”

“Your usual,” he handed you the bad when he noticed you had gotten settled against your headboard. 

“Thanks, Nol. You know you don’t have to do-,” you paused as you noticed the jewelry box that he was still holding, “what’s in the box?”

“Oh, I-uh, I got you something for tonight. Obviously, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, I just thought it would look nice with the dress,” he wasn’t even sure what prompted him to get it. 

“Show me,” you said, taking a drink of your coffee. 

“What?” 

“Nol, show me what you got me,” you chuckled at his obvious nervousness. He ignored the fear that you would hate it as he struggled to open the box. When he finally got the box open, he immediately passed the box over to you. The anxious feeling in his chest only grew when there was no immediate response from you. 

“I, uh, wow. Nolan, you shouldn’t have. You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

“Y-yeah, I know. But you said you needed a necklace to go with it and you honestly deserve so much for agreeing to go with me,” he said, finally meeting your eyes. “You deserve the world, y/n/n,” he whispered, averting his gaze down to your lips. You weren’t sure if you imagined it or not, but when you looked back up at him, he had gotten closer than he was before. 

“Nol,” you whispered, as you noticed that he was getting closer, his lips eventually ghosting over yours. 

“Hey, Nol, these bagels are great are you sure that you got them from the usual cafe,” Mae yelled as she barged into your room, causing the two of you to practically jump away from each other. 

“Um, yeah,” he stated, his voice laced with annoyance,” the same one that’s a block away. Just like the bag says.” 

He immediately shot a glare your way at the sound of both you and Mae laughing, “god, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Don’t you agree, y/n?” 

“Oh, yeah. For sure,” Nolan’s face softening at the sound of you laughing.

…..

Mae stayed in your room while you got ready for the gala - helping you out anytime you needed with either your hair or makeup. As she listened to you ramble about Nolan and the day you had yesterday, she knew she had to interfere. Quickly pulling out her phone, she pulled up the contact of the one person she knew who would help her out, who just happened to be Nolan’s best friend. 

heyyy teeks, i need your help

tk: i feel like you only text me when you need something. but what’s up

y/n and nolan.

tk : oh ok, yeah. he said she was his date for tonight though? i just assumed they finally talked it out?

well, they’re going as the others ‘fake date’. i’m very impatient and they are very dumb, so i need you to think of something

tk : why can’t you think of something?

i won’t be at the gala + i’m out of ideas

After the exchange of many text messages, Mae and Travis finally had a plan to help their two dumbass friends finally talk about how they felt. 

“Who are you texting?” you asked when you saw Mae furiously typing away.

“Oh, just asking Teeks about the practice schedule?” she said, quickly coming up with an excuse.

“You know we work at the same time? Right? Like our schedules are the exact same?”

“Oh, yeah. I just wanted to see when would be a good time to get some statements for the team’s Instagram stories.” 

You nodded hesitantly,” for some odd reason, I don’t believe you. But I also don’t know if I really want to know.”

“Anyways, what time is Nol picking you up?”

“He should be here-,” stopping when you heard the front door unlock, “now.” 

Before you were even able to stand up from your vanity, Mae was already at the door. “Woah, Nolan, who knew you could clean up well.”

“Wow, Mae. You’re always so nice to me,” Nolan grumbled in response, “where’s y/n/n?”

“She should be out soon. She looks hot as hell, by the way. I know you’ll see her, but I just thought I’d let you know beforehand.”

“Well, it is her. She always looks beautiful,” he said without a second thought.

“Ooooh, Nol. You getting soft on us? Over a girl? Gasp. Never saw that one coming.”

“Mae, shut the literal fuck up. I swear if you make one more joke about me and y/n, I’ll-” before he was able to finish his sentence, you had emerged from the hallway wearing the dress. The dress. The same dress that nearly made him pass out in the store. Except now, you also had on the necklace with his initial and the shoes that matched what he was wearing. “Wow.”

You giggled at his reaction, trying to ignore the heat that rushed to your face, “wow to you, too.”

“Was that you were saying, Nolan? I make one more joke about you and-” Mae interrupted, snapping both you and Nolan out of whatever trance you were in. Nolan saw the look of confusion cross your face, “I won’t get you any bagels next time I go out.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t!”

“I would, actually.”

“Okay, did I miss something?” you said, looking between your two best friends.

“No,” the both of them said simultaneously. 

….. As the two of you entered the ballroom that the gala was taking place, you took note of the amount of orange, black, and white decorations filling the room. All the players were scattered throughout the ballroom with their dates, some dancing, some near the bar, others talking. 

Nolan kept his arm wrapped around your waist as he led you near Travis and Joel, who were standing near the bar. He let his arm fall when you mentioned you needed to go talk to Ryanne and made his way over to the boys. 

“Dude, I thought you were joking when you said you were bringing y/n as your date,” Joel said when he knew you were far enough away. 

“She looks hot as hell, I say that respectfully. If Mae found out I said that - in any context - she would murder me,” Travis knew that what he was saying would have an effect on his friend, that’s exactly why he said it. This was the plan that he and Mae had agreed to, the plan they hoped would work. 

Nolan clenched his jaw, his body becoming tense from the words that he had heard from his friends. “Ok, Travis,” he simply nodded, in hopes that the conversation would end there. 

“I mean is she still single?” Joel added.

“Well, I mean, yes, but-”

“I might ask her out soon. I mean you said she was single, right?”

“Yeah, but-”

“Ooh, Farabee’s getting bold,” Travis added. 

Before Nolan could get another word out, you had made your back to the boys. “Hey, Nols. Did you want to go dance with me?” you asked, using all the courage you had in you. 

“No,” he inwardly grimaced at how sharp his answer came out, but he was upset. He knew you deserve someone better than him. All his insecurities were reaching the surface over a simple statement his friend had made. 

“No?”

“Yeah, why don’t you ask Farabee,” your brows furrowed as you saw him get up and walk away, joining Carter and Hayes at a table.

“Um, what’s up with him?” 

“Farabee made a joke about his hair,” Travis made up on the spot. 

“Oh, his hair?” to which both boys nodded, “um, alright.”

Your thoughts were racing. You knew it was something other than a joke about his hair, he would have chirped back if it was something like that. You hesitantly agreed to dance with Joel, knowing that after you danced you need to talk to Nolan. You and Joel made small talk, but your mind was a thousand miles away. “I can tell your mind is on something else, what’s up?” Joel interrupted your thoughts. 

“I know you didn’t say anything about his hair,” you shot him a pointed look. 

Joel only chuckled in response, “oh yeah, me and Teeks were trying to get him to admit something about how he felt about you, but instead he got all snarky. It definitely defeated the purpose of the joke, but we didn’t expect him to not say anything. If you go to him and talk to him, I’m sure it’ll all be okay.” 

Once the song that was playing ended, that’s exactly what you did. 

Or at least that was what you planned on doing. 

You knew that finally telling Nolan how you felt would be risky. That’s what had stopped you so many times. But right now, the stars seemed to have aligned. Every one of your friends was telling you that things were mutual and that nothing would go wrong if you were just honest. Everything was leaning in the right direction.

Until you hit a stop sign. 

That stop sign being Nolan being nowhere in sight. And once you saw him, you wished you hadn’t. You watched from a distance as the person you were about to confess your feelings to had another girl in his arms. An ex-fling of his that he said he was over. Her making advances, him not necessarily ignoring them. 

Quickly turning on your heel, you grabbed your phone out of your clutch and called Mae. “Hey babes. Are you calling to say you won’t be home and that you and Nol- are you crying?”

“Can you just come and get me? If you can’t I can get a ride home, but-” you sniffled.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’m on my way.”

Your feet led you towards the front lounge area near the entrance where you waited on Mae. You didn’t want to talk about anything, so you texted TK asking him to come to the front entrance. 

“Love, what happened?”

“Nolan was- he was, uh. Fuck. tried to-to go talk to him and he was with his ex, but yeah. He was already avoiding me before and I was just wanting to tell him,” by the time you had finished explaining, Travis had already enveloped you in his arms.

“Nolan is an idiot, alright? He’ll realize his mistake, but don’t blame yourself, ok?”

Before you could respond, you got the text from Mae saying she was here. “Mae’s here.”

“Make sure you get some rest and let me know if you need me to beat him up for you,” he said, finally getting you to smile. 

When you finally made it to Mae’s car, she passed you a pint of your favorite ice cream and then the two of you made your way home. She didn’t know ho

…..

“Nolan James Patrick, get your ass over here before I drag you off the ice,” Mae yelled throughout the rink. It was only a few people running drills, so she wasn’t interrupting an ‘official’ practice - she wouldn’t care if she had. Mae had to finish editing some new posts for the Flyers’ social media and she also had to kick Nolan Patrick’s ass, so might as well kill two birds with one stone. 

“So you won’t answer my calls, but you’ll drag me out of morning skate?” Nolan said, as he skated towards where she was standing. 

“Yes, exactly. What the fuck happened? y/n won’t leave her room and she told me she’s debating calling off work tomorrow, which is dumb because she’s the only trainer competent enough for game days.” 

“She just assumed the worst, that’s what happened. And if she wants to avoid me that much, so be it,” he stepped off the ice to get closer to Mae. 

“You aren’t slick, Pat. Everyone can see how miserable you are without her. And it’s only been like 10 hours.”

He knew Mae was right. He felt awful for what had happened at the gala, spending all the time after you left sulking and he only came to morning skate to get his mind off things, but he could only imagine how you had felt. “Look, Joel said something about asking her out, I was mad, and I also happened to run into an ex. Nothing happened between me and her, but I think y/n/n saw. Is she going to be ok?”

“Well, all things considered, if you clear up the air with her and actually talk to her like a man, instead of acting like a prepubescent boy. I’m sure she’ll be okay, but the two of you actually have to talk.”

Nolan’s head wasn’t in the right space, from morning skate or to regular practice. His mind was anywhere else, but in the game. It was so bad that he was close to being benched for his next game. His teammates were aware of what was going on, knowing they had to do something to at least get his head in the right spot. 

You weren’t supposed to come in to work until later tonight to prepare for the game, but Mae had asked for your help with a piece she was working on about the Flyers staff and trainers. So, you quickly packed up your work bag and made your way to the rink. Going to your office first, you expected Mae to be the person in the chair, but you were met with the one person you were trying to avoid. “y/n, hey.”

Your heart skipped a beat after hearing his voice for the first time in a while. “Hey, Nolan. Look about the other night, it wasn’t my place to be upset. I was only there as your fake date, so me getting upset about seeing you with another girl shouldn’t have bothered me as much as it did.”

“No, y/n/n. What happened on my part wasn’t right, you’re not in the wrong for reacting how you did,” he knew you would take the blame, but he also knew he had to make sure that how you felt was reasonable and there was nothing wrong with you reacting. 

“Look, me and you are fine, I promise. We’re back to being best friends, I have to go talk to Mae. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said before turning around and leaving Nolan. You hadn’t said everything that you wanted to, but right now wasn’t the time.

Nolan started following you out of your office, making an attempt to catch up to you. “y/n/n, nothing happened between me and her, I promise.” He could only watch as you kept walking away. 

…...

“So, are you and Nol going to do your handshake? Or are you going to let the team lose against the Islanders? Like I know you know some of the guys on the team, but that’s very disloyal of you,” Mae asked as she opened the door to the arena, quickly stepping to the side so that way you could jump and hit the top of the door. 

“You do realize that the results of the game don’t depend on if me and Nol do the handshake?” 

“Alright, Ms. ‘I have to hit the top of the doorway or else we’ll lose’. You literally left the arena crying one day because you forgot to do it.” Game days were very ritualistic, for both staff and the players. Many players had their own habits and rituals that they knew helped them win a game, some of the staff had their own rituals - you included. 

You always made sure to get you and Mae your usual coffee order before the two of you made your way to the rink. Every time you entered the arena or left your office, you would jump up to hit the top of the doorway - which everyone on the team thought was hilarious, even though a lot of them started doing it themselves. Then there was the secret handshake you and Nolan do almost every time he goes on the ice. 

“Look, my habits are reasonable, but I don’t know if the handshake will happen today,” you answered honestly. 

“Knowing him, he’s not going to let you avoid it. He needs it just as much as you do.”

“What do you mean?” 

Mae chuckled in response, “you really are oblivious sometimes. Alright, well anytime you two do the handshake, both of you visibly light up. I’ve seen it enough times to know that I’m not wrong. It’s a part of both of your routines and you’ll freak out if it doesn’t happen, so even though stuff is going on between the two of you, it’s not going to change the fact that you’re both a part of the others routine.” You visibly gaped at your best friend, which only made her laugh harder. “Look, you can act shocked all you want, but the two of you are so used to seeing each other at least once a day, that the two of you not talking consistently is driving both of you crazy.”

“I’m not going to agree, but I’m not going to deny it.”

“You literally can’t deny it because I’m right,” she said in a sing-song voice. 

“Anyways, moving on. What posts do you have planned for tonight's game?”

“Well, I’ve kinda been working on a secret project, but I still need a few more shots for it. But other than that, just the usual posts of goals made and action shots.”

“Ooh, secret project? Am I allowed in the secret social media project?”

“No, you’re not at that level of clearance yet, top secret,” she smirked,”also, you know it’s almost time for morning practice and if I remember correctly, you still have to do your job. You still haven’t gotten your bag from your office yet, so you better hurry babes.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll meet you down there?” to which she nodded in response. As the two of you made your way down to the ice, you took a detour to get to your office, leaving Mae by herself. 

Mae went to the usual spot that the two of you would stand during morning skate, which also happened to be the same spot that you would stand at during the games, right in between the bench and the tunnel. While you were in your office, Mae was able to set up to get a few action shots - even though it was just morning skate she loved getting pictures of the boys when they weren’t necessarily in their competitive mode. 

While she was taking a few pictures, she noticed Nolan looking around the rink, his eyes always coming back to where she stood after finishing a drill or lap. When she saw Travis skate near the bench, she quietly called him over, “dude, look at Nolan. He looks like a lost puppy.”

Nolan’s head still wasn’t in the right spot, he was able to get it together enough to be able to play, but his head was everywhere else. When he saw Mae, he immediately started looking for you, which only bummed him out more when he realized you might have actually called in saying you wouldn’t be able to make it. 

“Oh, yeah. He’s been like that all day since he hasn’t seen y/n here. Did she actually call in like she said she would?”

“No, she’s just in her office getting her bag. She threatened not to do their handshake, so you know things are serious,” she said, taking a few more pictures.

“Damn, Pat will go insane if she’s actually serious.”

“She’s not serious, she better not be at least.”

“Oh shit, the project. You’re still working on it?” TK asked, to which Mae nodded.

“You mean to tell me Teeks knows about the project and I don’t,” you interjected, causing them both to laugh. 

“Dude, Pat thought you actually called in today and he looked like he was going to cry,” Travis added. 

“Who told him I was thinking about calling in?” you asked, looking between the duo in front of you. 

“I kinda showed up to practice yesterday and threatened him. Nothing serious, just the usual ‘get your shit together or else’,” Mae said, shrugging, “he’s very threatened by those shorter than him.” 

At the sound of your laugh, Nolan’s head immediately snapped over to where he knew you usually stood, seeing you around Mae and Teeks. His face and mood immediately lighting up at the sight of you standing there. 

Teeks left shortly after, leaving you and Mae alone. “Was Nol that worried I wouldn’t come?”

“Bitch, you can’t be serious right now? Of course he was worried, you’re basically his good luck charm at this point.” 

“I’m not-”

“You are. Don’t even try to deny it. You and I both know it. I’ll see you at lunch”

Nolan took notice of how quickly you looked for him whenever Mae left. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional or just routine, but the smile that you sent his way had him forgetting any worries he had. Just as he was about to come over to you, Coach ushered him to do media. Quickly sending you a sad smile, he followed. 

As soon as the boys cleared out from morning skate to head to do media, you started getting the benches ready for the game; getting the water bottles filled, making sure there were enough sticks, and checking that all the pucks were there. You took your time, as you still had quite a bit of time before you had to head to meetings with other staff members. 

Shortly after staff meetings and lunch with Mae were done, you got a text from Zach, your assistant trainer, saying that the Islanders were in the process of getting settled. Since you trusted Zach to take care of that, you took this time to check on any injuries that any players had to make sure that they were in the best shape they could be for the game today. 

mattyb: psst. is the room clear? me and tito can’t be seen talking to the enemy

you’re good to come into the training room, idk what the hallway looks like though

When you heard the door close, you didn’t even have to look up from what you were doing to know who it was. Quickly turning around you saw two of your closest friends, “I didn’t think I’d actually miss you guys and here we are.”

“Did y/n y/l/n just admit to missing us? Did I miss something?” Tito said.

“Ooh, I think Philly has made her go soft. Let’s take a moment of silence for our fallen friend,” Mat added. 

“Do you two ever shut up?”

“There she is,” Mat came over to you to give you a hug, Tito following behind. 

“I’m surprised you willingly hugged me. Matty B, I’m the enemy here,” you said, causing Mat to roll his eyes at the nickname.

“Back at it with that stupid nickname.” 

“Don’t worry, y/n/n, we both know he loves that nickname.” 

The three of you took the time that you had to catch up, eventually ending up walking throughout the arena back towards their locker room. Wishing both of the boys luck, Tito walked into the locker room first, but you noticed Mat seemed hesitant on walking in. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean what’s up?” you asked, unsure of what he was meaning. 

“No, I can clearly tell that something is wrong. Tito probably noticed too, he just doesn’t mention stuff like that.”

“Um, stuff is going on with me and Nolan. I don’t really know what, it’s just this really long story.”

“Did he do something? I’ll beat him up if you need me to?”

“No, no. Nothing happened, well stuff did, but nothing that you need to beat him up for.”

“Did you finally tell him how you feel? Did he reject you or something?”

“No, um, me and him went to a charity gala together, but only as each other's fake date. I didn’t bring it up as wanting anything else, but then some other stuff happened and now we’re in this awkward ‘we’re fine, but won’t talk it out’ stage. And it’s just hard right now,” you simply shrugged. 

“You know, I don’t know much about him, but I’m sure there’s a lot that has been left unsaid for way too long and now it’s just needing to be out in the open. You two will figure it out, I’m sure,” Mat quickly gave you a hug, “now, I have to go get ready to win this game, so if you’ll excuse me.” 

“Oh, be ready Barzy, my boys will kick your ass.”

“We shall see, y/n. We shall see.” 

Once you saw that Mat had gone back to the locker room, you started making your way back to the Flyers locker room for pregame meetings. You still had at least 30 minutes before the meetings started, but you assumed that the boys would either be stretching or messing around. “You know, you talking to the enemy could get you fired, y/n/n,” you heard Joel say as he walked beside you. 

“Hey, Beezer. How are you today?”

“I’m doing great. I’d be better if my favorite trainer wasn’t seen talking to the enemy,” he nudged you with his elbow. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I didn’t spoil any secrets, I promise. No game plans were exposed.” 

“Hmm. Wait til Nols hears about this one,” he paused when you visibly tensed, “you guys haven’t talked have you? That’s why morning skate was kinda wack.”

“Well, we have talked, but I don’t think everything that needed to be said was said.”

“So, why don’t you go say it? Simple.” 

“He’s not saying much either,” you said, defensively to which he could only roll his eyes. 

“Well both of you are acting like a couple of 14 year olds that don’t know how to talk to the person they like, no offense, but it’s annoying,” he said, matter of factly. 

You knew Joel was right, he had simply said what everyone around you was thinking. You knew that what he had said the night of the gala was right. You knew what Mae had said about the two of you being a part of each other’s routine was right. You knew - although you would never say it to his face - that Mat was right, too. 

Reaching down, you instinctively grabbed the necklace that Nolan gave you. You only looked up when you heard chuckling in front of you, “what?”

“Your first instinct was to grab the necklace he got you, it might not seem like a lot, but it says a lot.”

…..

Nolan stepped out of the locker room and quickly followed the boys towards the rink. He unconsciously kept an eye out for you, knowing that if he didn’t do the handshake it would throw him off. When warm ups started and he only saw Zach, he started to become worried. The handshake only had to happen before each period, but it often happened more than three times throughout the game. 

Midway through warm up Travis nudged him, who pointed towards where you and Mae were walking closer. He watched as Mae nudged you and pointed in his direction, to which you quickly jogged over, “ok, sorry I didn’t get here before warm-ups. But here’s what’s going to happen ok: you go out there and kick some ass. Specifically so I can prove a point to Mat and Tito, but anyways, you go out there and you help win this game. Then once the game is over we figure out whatever is going on with us. Okay?”

Nolan’s smile only grew, he simply nodded. “Of course, you think I’d let your stupid New York friends win?” 

“I would hope not,” you gave him a quick hug and watched as he started to walk away, “I know damn well that you’re not walking away without doing this handshake,” Nolan quickly took off his gloves so that you could do your handshake,“ there we go. Now you better beat them or else I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

Once the National Anthem was over, the first period started. You already knew that this game would be a tough one, you knew enough about both teams to know that it would be a very close game. By the end of the first, the score was 2-1, the Islanders ahead. 

After the intermission, both teams came back ready for more. You knew the signs of the Islanders getting cocky and you hoped it was noticeable, you and Nolan did your handshake one more time before he went back on the ice. About halfway through the second period, Nolan and Travis had helped get another goal, tying up the score. 

As the team was celebrating your eyes found Nolan’s to which he simply pointed at you in response. You scanned the rest of the rink, only to see Mat and Tito pointing between you and Nolan, your eyebrows furrowed to which they only smiled in response. Oh no. You looked back to Nolan, who was skating back to the bench for water, only to see Tito approaching him from the other side. 

You couldn’t hear what was said, but you knew that whatever it was caused Nolan to get angry. His eyes met yours once more and you only hoped he would ignore whatever was said. You let out a breath of air as he skated back to the bench. Nolan wasn’t on the ice for the next play, but you could see the way he kept his eyes trained on Tito. 

You watched as Mat had the puck, passing it to Tito as they scored another goal. As they celebrated you visibly gaped as Tito pointed in your direction. You could see the smirk grow on his face from what you assumed was Nolan’s reaction. 

You prepared for the worst when Nolan went back on the ice. TK, who was still on the bench, looked back at you with a questioning look. “This is bad, this is very bad,” you whispered. 

“Pssh, he’ll be fine. He hardly ever-” before Travis could even finish his sentence, you saw Nolan and Tito’s gloves come off. “Ok, forget I said that.” You watched as the two boys fought, eventually both were pulled apart by the refs and were ushered towards the penalty box. 

“Dumbass.” 

The game continued and the two of them eventually got out of the penalty box. By the end of the second period, the score was 3-2, the boys only needed to get at least one point to be able to win the game. You were beyond mad at Tito and Mat for egging Nolan on, but you were also mad at Nolan for letting it get to him. 

When you and Nolan did your handshake, you took notice of how his hands were already slightly bruised from the fight, but you would tend to that later. The game proceeded, eventually with both teams tied with only a few minutes left, so either someone would score or the game would go into overtime. 

Everyone in the arena is on the edge of their seats, unsure of what the outcome of the game will be. Carter was able to block all of the Islanders attempts at a goal, which allowed the guys to be able to score without fear of a comeback from the Isles. With less than 20 seconds left, a goal is made by the Flyers. We won the game. 

The atmosphere of the arena erupted in cheers and celebration, the boys crowding around on the ice. You smiled as you watched the team celebrate the win that they just had, your smile growing more when you saw that Nolan was once again looking your way. “He’s been looking your way the whole game and you want to tell me he doesn’t think of you as his good luck charm? Okay, y/n,” Mae said, interrupting your thought process. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. No need for that,” you said rolling your eyes, “You’ll meet me by the training room once you’re done?”

She simply nodded in response. Staying in the arena for a while as fans and spectators cleared out, you cleared off the benches and started making your way back to the training room. “y/n,” a familiar voice yelled from behind you as you passed the visiting locker rooms. 

Turning around you saw Tito approaching, Mat following behind. “Look, I’m sorry about what I did. I shouldn’t have dragged you into it.”

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t have, but as long as you left it on the ice we’re cool. Just know that I’m not afraid to punch you out either. I appreciate the apology though, T.” 

“Please don’t punch him again, but now that I know we’re cool. Can we just take a second and mention the reaction that we got out of Nolan?” Mat questioned. 

“Exactly, I wouldn’t react that way unless I was literally in love with the girl. He’s whipped, dude,” Tito added. 

“He’s not.”

“He is,” the pair in front of you said in unison. “It’s so obvious and the two of you are just oblivious,” Mat added. Before you could say anything else, you saw Anders emerge from the locker room, “hey, y/n. Your boys did good today.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Always the humble one, y/n,” he sighed,”Anyways, what was up with your boy today?” he added. 

“Well, Tito also chirped him, so I don’t think it was an all one sided ordeal,” you stated. 

“Did you notice how he didn’t mention who he was talking about? He literally just said ‘your boy’ and you immediately knew he meant Pat,” heat rushed to your face at Mat’s statement.

“Anyways, you guys had a great game. Next time we play each other, we have to make plans and catch up more,” you quickly said your goodbyes and made your way back to the training room where a familiar figure was already sitting on one of the benches. “Hey, y/n/n.”

“Hey, Nol,” you set your bag down and quickly headed over to get some ice for his hand, “you’re a dumbass, you know that.” 

“Well, I have you constantly reminding me, so yeah,” he smiled at the fact that the two of you fell back into your normal conversation.

“So, you want to explain why you got into a fight?” you already knew why he did, but something was telling you that you didn’t know something. 

“Not particularly, but I know you won’t accept that answer,” he sighed, “he made a comment about him asking you out and I’ve already dealt with a comment like that about you before, but it really got in my head this time. And then he pointed to you after your goal and I don’t know.” As he ran his hand through his hair, his eyes finally met yours, “I got jealous.”

“Nolan Patrick, jealous? Never saw that one coming,” you walked back over towards him to assess his hand, “well your hand looks fine, you’ll probably just have to ice it for a few days.” Standing back up you noticed Nolan’s eyes on your neck, “what is it?”

“You’re still wearing the necklace I gave you.”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know, I figured you’d throw it away after what happened. I honestly thought you wouldn’t show up today or do our handshake and it scared me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “why did it scare you?”

“I, uh, after us not talking, I realized how much I need you in my life and I realized I love you a lot more than I thought I did before.” Your eyes widened as you realized what he had said, “you love me?”

“Is it hard that hard to believe?”

“I- I don’t know, I just didn’t realize how you felt the same,” looking up you saw Nolan’s face visibly light up. Before you could say anything else, he pulled you closer to him.

Brushing a piece of hair away from your face, he leaned closer, softly whispering another I love you before his lips met yours softly. Once the two of you pulled away, you simply smiled at one another.

“Yes, finally. Teeks, you owe me $20. Pay up,” Mae said to Teeks, both leaning on the doorway. 

“You two couldn’t have waited another day for that,” Travis said, handing over the money. 

“Oh, you might want to check Instagram really quick. Nolan, I assume you’re taking y/n/n home?” 

The blush on Nolan’s face grew as he looked over to you for confirmation to which you nodded before walking over to pull your phone out of your bag. Opening Instagram, you went to the Flyers Instagram, taking note of a few new posts before seeing the most recent one captioned ‘Pre-game handshakes are definitely the most important part of game day’ with a video of you and Nolan doing your handshake before each game over the few years you had done it. 

“Awe, Mae. Was this the secret project?”

“Yeah, now I’ll leave you two,” she said before walking away, only to come back a few seconds later, “oh and use protection, kiddos.”

[dreamingmanip]

“MADNESS LOVE” PART 2

*GIF NOT MINE*

You can find part 1 here.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Warnings: None (if I need one let me know in my ask!)

Prompt: NONE

Word Count: 2,026

A/N: Hi guys! Like I said before, this is part 2 of 3 for this imagine. I loved this fic so much I could’t stop writing. I hope you liked it, like always if you like this, please like it and reblog it. This would be pin on my page so you can find it without problems.

The tears kept rolling down your face all the way home, you didn't bother to wipe them away when you met your neighbor in the lobby, asking you if you were okay. You weren't, you were holding yourself to not break down in the middle of the hallway, making a scene. 

Your keys jingled while you opened the front door, your hands trembling; you shut the door behind you. There was some light coming from outside the window but mostly it was dark,and that's how you felt, as if somebody took the light inside you leaving you blind. You leaned you back on the door, your body sliding down to the cold floor, sitting there looking at nothing. A cell phone started ringing in the distance but you didn't want to move. Your eyes fluttered trying to focus in the dark, searching in your jacket for it, the screen on the phone  glowed  and illuminated your face, Jay's name showed up, and the killing pain came back to your chest just looking at his name, so you decided to turn it off. 

God knows how long you were there until you decided to stand up and go to your room to take a shower, put on some pajamas and grabbed the bottle of wine that was in the back of your fridge taking it to your room. Jay's words echoing in your head, over and over again.

Did he commit to his job, to his Unit, that he was fine letting you go? His words were etched in your mind. Of course you understood the full situation, he was right; you were the new still, not a detective, but that wasn't what was hurting you, it was realizing how he believed you both could never say anything because your jobs were more important. 

Somehow you fell asleep before finishing the bottle of wine. The clock on your nightstand began to chime, it seemed that you had barely fallen asleep. Your room was still dark thanks to the curtains but some rays of sun could creep in. You stretched out your hand to turn off the alarm, and at the same time, your cell phone began to ring, you probably turned it on again in the middle of the night, you were a cop and sometimes you did stuff automatically; you raised it a little to be able to answer.

"Hello?"

“Hey Y/N, please don’t tell me you were still in bed.”

Your voice was a little croaky when you spoke.

“Uhm, no I wasn’t. My throat feels weird this morning, so… yeah.”

Kim’s voice was joyful even on the phone, you turned to see the clock, in a bright green color it said “8:15 AM”. You sat up immediately, moving the soft sheets wrapped on your body away while Kim was still talking.

“...So I called Kevin and we decided to bring you some donuts and your favorite coffee before the event. We’re 10 minutes away.”

“Fuck”.

You murmured getting in the bathroom. Kim looked at Kevin a little concerned.

“Sorry Kim, I spilled some water on the table but, uhm, yeah. See you in 10”.

Ending the call, you got in the shower, didn’t even wait for the warm water so you screamed a little feeling the coldness on your skin. The fastest shower you ever took in your life, leaving you with only five minutes to get dressed up and do your hair. 

You were in the final touches of your makeup when a few small knocks on the front door warned you of the arrival of Burgess and Atwater. Taking one last look at the mirror to put a smile on your face before one of them would notice something, you felt anxious and devastated and trying to hide it from officers and detectives required a lot of self control.

Both of your friends smiled when you opened the door, Kim was holding a little box with cartoon drawings of donuts on the top while Kevin was offering you a cup of your favorite coffee. All of you wearing uniforms.

“Thanks guys, I barely ate something this morning”.

You took the coffee from Kevin’s hand, taking a little sip before walking out of your apartment, closing the door behind you. The three of you were talking about random stuff all the way to the car and to the downtown, well, Kim was the one talking with Kevin, you were mentally preparing yourself to see Jay, it wasn’t working at all.

“So Y/N, Jay called me last night, which was a little weird if I have to admit, he asked me about you”.

Kim was looking at you through the view rear mirror, you blinked a couple of times without saying anything. Why did Jay call Kim to ask her for you? You had no idea and that's exactly what you said.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I was at home last night. He’s weird sometimes you know that.”

“I know, right? He asked me if you were with me last night but we were at Molly’s. Adam, Hailey, Kevin and I, we miss you by the way.”

Kevin looked at you, knowing something went wrong between you and Jay.

“We invited Halstead to celebrate but he said he was busy filling some forms for Trudy after shift.”.

“Well, I don’t know him so well. I think he prefers to be alone. Look, the press is here too”.

You passed some news cars, reporters were setting their cameras to get a better view. Jay hated this, he wasn’t comfortable seeing his face on the paper just for doing his job and also Voight taught them that when his unit was formed, and everyone did almost the same.

You got out of the car after Kevin parked near the place. Hailey was the first who noticed you, she raised her hand and started to wave it. You smiled, Kim was doing the same and started walking towards her, Kevin patted your shoulder making you go slowly.

“What happened last night? Jay called me too, he said he was worried about you”.

“Well, he doesn't have to do that anymore. We’re done”. 

“Wait, what?”

Kevin stopped for a moment, that news caught him by surprise.

“Y/N, are you sure of this? Don’t get me wrong, I’ll support any decision you make, all the way, but I know your feelings. Working together could get harder.”

You nodded your head, you knew it. It was going to get hard in every possible way, seeing him every morning not able to steal a kiss from each other at the coffee room or staying up watching a movie with your head on his chest; suddenly a bunch of memories came back to your mind, you shook your head slowly, you gave him a side smile.

“Kev, I got this. I’m gonna be fine. C’mon”.

You bumped his arm with yours while you reached out to Hailey and Kim, for a moment Hailey looked at you and nodded, Jay talked to her too. You nodded back to her.

A few moments later, Voight and Trudy joined you. In the place there were a small, but considerable, number of people but no matter how much you searched with your eyes, you could not find Jay. The coordinators asked you to take your seats, for obvious reasons the Intelligence Unit was in the front row, it wasn't until that moment that you could see Jay in his uniform, you had always liked the way he looked in it. However, he didn't seem very happy, he seemed calm but you noticed the pressure on his jaw, his straight shoulders and his gaze in front of him, but he wasn't looking at you.

He was sitting next to some superiors in the platform in front of you. The Superintendent stepped up to the microphone to start his speech, some photographers started to point their cameras to the people and then to the "big hero". 

The ceremony wasn't too long, you all met in the back while reporters were asking now questions to some people. Voight was smiling, which was rare, while Jay was walking towards the group. 

Adam was the first to talk, and like always, started to make some jokes. 

"There he is, the super cop Jay Halstead. The man of the year!"

He padded Jay's shoulder, he had a shy smile on his lips. Uncomfortable by all the attention he was receiving. 

"Thanks Ruzek, I think the cartel in Mexico didn't hear you". 

Everybody laughed, including you. Jay looked at you for a moment, actually felt more like 2 seconds. 

"Alright, let's go back to the district and back to work. We can celebrate later at Molly's". 

Voight spoke and all dismissed to the cars, you went with Kevin again, this time Kim decided to ride with Ruzek, the awkward sensation was still there so she didn't want it to push it further and make you uncomfortable. Once inside the car, you kept quiet all the way, Kevin knew you were lying but he also knew how you dealt with a broken heart. 

You went to the locker room and just arrived at the district, it was too damn warm to keep it all day, also it was used just for events like this. When you got to the door you spotted Hailey, she was putting her badge on her belt. You kept your head down, trying to avoid her, you greet her with a quiet voice. 

"Uhm Y/N, can I talk to you for a moment?" 

"Yeah, sure."

Hailey closed the door and crossed her arms on her chest, her  cautious blue eyes looking back at you. 

"Look, when Jay told me he was dating you, I told him it was stupid. Not worth it if your careers could be over just for a romance that could last just a few months". 

You knew Hailey, she was a bad ass woman and probably didn't say it to her so often but you admire her. She was serious, she didn't like to play games when it comes to her friends. 

"I'm sorry for telling you this, but that was before seeing how good you are together as partners and as a couple. I was scared for both of you because I love you and I care about you. I'm not on Jay's side or your side, left me out that but Y/N, it's not easy to Jay open his heart like he did with you. He doesn't want to lose you and I guess the only way he can control that feeling it's not letting anybody know about it. Forgive me if I was a little obtrusive". 

You didn't notice there were a few tears on your cheek, cleared your throat to be available to speak but you failed at finding the right words, it took you a few seconds to speak. 

"It's okay Hailey, but what about me? What about my feelings? I know Jay is right, we could lose our jobs but, why make me feel like his dirty secret?"

Hailey took a few steps closer, her blue eyes now looking sad.

"Of course your feelings are valid. Don't get me wrong, I have been in that position before and it's not easy. All I'm saying is, you shouldn't leave things unspoken, this stuff gets heavy later."

She hugged you tight, rubbing your back. You held her too, she knew what she was talking about, you never asked before 'cause she was very private but you believed her at anything she said. 

After changing your clothes, you came back to the bullpen, nobody was talking, you sat at your chair and looked around; it seemed like everybody was tense for no reason. Voight was in his office and the unit was on some paperwork. You felt someone looking at you, directly. There was no need to look up, you knew Jay was looking at you from time to time. You haven’t talked to each other yet, you needed to, but that wasn’t the right place.

Tagged some beautiful people ✨:

@itsdesiree86 @mrspeacem1nusone  @anotherfan07 @thestarrynightslover