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wishlistcharles · 1 month

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secrets we keep (pt1) → mv1

max verstappen x perez!fem reader

genre: one night stand, teammates sister, pregnancy

cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (male receiving), p in v, slight spit play, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything

word count: 3.1k

song: too sweet - hozier

sidenote: hi everyone! finally a new fic is here and it's a max one! this is going to be a two parter, so keep an eye out for the next one! please let me know if y'all have any ideas or requests for a fic (I write for all drivers), also not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3

♡♡♡♡

The roars of the crowd were loud as Max crossed the finish line, followed closely by Sergio. For a second there you had thought your brother would overtake the world champion, but nonetheless he fought hard and gave the team what they wanted, a 1-2 finish.

It wasn’t often you got to go to your brother's races, maybe only a handful a year but you were lucky to be able to get the time off to join your niece and nephews for the Japanese Grand Prix. Sergio would topple over if he knew you had the hots for his teammate. Every time you have met with Max, it’s been very cordial. Polite hellos, asking how life in Mexico is, what you have been up to since he last saw you.

A part of you wondered why he was so timid with you. Was it because of Sergio? Being the baby of the family left him feeling protective of you, but you don’t think that would affect how Max interacted with you. I mean you barely saw him.

Watching the pair on the podium set tears in your eyes. You were extremely proud of your big brother and his teammate.

Your dad absolutely adored max and had invited him to join us for a celebratory dinner after the race. Which to your surprise he happily accepted.

You were staying at the same hotel that both the bulls were at, so reconnecting for dinner would not be difficult. After the race you decided to head back to freshen up and change your clothes into something a little more fancy. At the race you were wearing a white tennis skirt with a red bull polo tucked in. For dinner you decided to wear a black over the shoulder dress that fit you perfectly. Finally ready you walk down and see that only Max is waiting in the lobby. Your stomach turns at the thought of being alone with him.

Picking his head up from looking down at his phone he notices you walking toward him and waves shyly. “Hi y/n, looks like it’s only us ready” he said in a tiny voice. You are always so used to him being outspoken it kinda scares you a little. “hi maxie, you know how my family is with time management, they should be down here soon” you said with a laugh, not even acknowledging the nickname that slipped from your mouth.

A sudden tinge of pink washes over Max’s cheeks and you feel heat radiating up your neck. Act cool, you keep telling yourself but you are so nervous. Max was all you ever wanted in a guy. Handsome, sweet, confident, the list could go on. You knew deep down though your worlds would never clash well. You lived in Mexico with your parents - working as a teacher. Max lived in Monaco and raced for one of the best teams in formula one history, surrounded by models throwing themselves at him. You couldn’t blame them, you would do the same, if you thought you ever had a chance.

“No worries, I always have to wait for Checo to come to our team meetings” he laughed. “I bet, if there’s one thing my brother isn’t know for it’s being on time, thank you for coming to dinner with us though, we really appreciate it, I know my dad and brother do a lot”

With a smirk on his face something shifts “oh just your dad and brother, not you?”. You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs, just as you are about to open your mouth to respond, tiny roars make notice in the room and you almost fall at your nephew running to you, so you could pick him up. Silently you thank your nephew for the interruption.

Dinner goes smoothly. You sat at the opposite end of the table with the kids, while your brother, dad, and max were deep in conversation. You swore that Max kept looking at you though, sneaking glances.

As the check gets situated, all of you make your way out onto the busy streets of Japan. You hear your brother speak up “Y/N are you gonna come get ice cream with us” and while you were deeply contemplating it, you decided to pass up the offer and head back to the hotel.

“No I think I'm gonna head back to the hotel and pack, I want to take the kids to get breakfast tomorrow morning before we leave” you say.

“no puedes caminar solo es tarde en la noche” (you can't walk alone, it's late at night) your brother worries.

“Sergio, I'm fine, it's not that far from the hotel, I'll grab a taxi” before he could protest, Max jumped in.

“I can take a taxi back with y/n, I'm super tired after the race, and I'll make sure she makes it to her hotel room”

“Are you sure Max?” Sergio asks.

“Yes I'm sure, it was a lovely evening, thank you for inviting me”

Your family bids their farewells and walks away, leaving just the two of you waiting for a taxi. As you guys are picked up, you both don't say a word in the car, sitting in an uncomfortable silence. Max pays the driver and you thank him quietly. Making your way up to the floor where both of your rooms are, you stop at his first. “Thank you for bringing me back Max, I appreciate it”

“Of course it's no problem, hey I'm actually not really that tired, do you wanna play Fifa or watch a movie?” he asks. Something deep down is telling you to decline. Spending time with him is just going to dig you deeper in a hole with how you feel about him, nonetheless, you can't let this opportunity go and accept this offer.

Walking in you notice the room is ten times bigger than yours, with a balcony and jacuzzi tub in the middle of the bathroom. Max must notice your awe because he says “I don't know why they give us such big rooms, we are hardly ever even in here”

“Haha it's nice for Checo because the kids get to play around”

“You are really close with them, aren't you?”

“They are practically my own, when their mom is out doing business I usually keep them, I also help homeschool them”

“Well that's very sweet of you” he says while taking a seat on the bed, while motioning you to do the same.

“Do you want something to drink” he offers

“No I'm okay” you politely decline. You still can't believe this, you are in Max Verstappen's room all alone.

“Okay let's put on a movie! What are you up for, should we do action” you sense a sudden shift in his mood, you can't quite place it, maybe excitement. You believe he can probably sense that you are nervous. The mention of action makes your ears perk up.“Can we please watch fast and the furious, I am on a mission to have all my friends watch it”

Max doesn't protest, just laughs quietly and nods, setting the movie in place. You make yourself comfortable and take off your big hoop earrings and heels- even though they werent big by any means they still hurt you. Once you are back in bed with him, you notice him looking at you.

“Is there something on my face?” You laugh

“No i just guess I never noticed how different but similar you look from checo”

“Really? How so?” You question

“Well for one, you are very pretty, but you have the same freckles that Checo does covering your cheeks and nose” Max’s comment has you feeling shy, you know you must be sporting a prominent blush across your face and neck.

“well thank you Max, it's funny because growing up, i never had freckles, but i think being out in the sun for races and the kids karting tournaments have really brought them to surface”

“That's interesting, I admire how close to your family you are, something I wish I had” he says so quietly you almost miss it. You don't know what possesses you to do this but you place your hand over his and say “you are always welcome in this family max, we all love you, and no matter where sergio goes next year- you will always be welcomed with open arms”

He stares at you with a blank face- unable to tell what he's thinking you begin to think that was the wrong thing to say when suddenly he leans down a plants a gentle kiss over your lips. You gasp at the touch. Max pulls back with wide eyes and says “shit I shouldn't have done that, Checo will kill me if he found out”. Instead of agreeing with him, you keep your hand held tightly over his and whisper “he doesn't have to know”. That's all it seems to take for max to lean back in and start kissing you.

You grab the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric in your hands. His palm cups your jaw, slowly deepening the kiss. Once his tongue makes his way in, you let out a quiet moan.

Grabbing your hips, Max shifts your position so that you are laying on the bed while he towers over you. “You are so pretty y/n, been wanting to do this forever” he says while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. While you want to pour your heart out, your nerves stop you and all you can do is nod and say “want you so bad max”.

He continues to kiss you, tracing his mouth up and down your neck and along the junction between your shoulder and neck placing feather-like kisses. There’s nothing more that you want then for him to leave a big bruise plastered for everyone to see but you knew that wasn’t possible.

You grab his head and place your lips back on his. Moving his hand to your hair he grips it tightly, keeping you in his control. Slowly he rocks his hips down to meet yours, creating a union of moans to spill from the both of you. This must be the breaking point for max because he stops to take off his shirt and grabs your dress to do the same. Not before asking “is this okay”.

“Of course it’s okay, I want all of you” you whisper out. His pants also come off in the process. Both of you left in your underwear. You could feel yourself soaked through your panties. Max moves his hand so that his thumb is slowly running along your slit through the fabric. A moan is pushed out of you with a quiet plea of more.

Growing impatient you tug the straps of your bra down your shoulders exposing your breasts to him. This catches his attention because Max is on them immediately. Sucking and kissing them, basically worshiping them. “Fuck, these tits are perfect. They were practically popping out of your dress earlier, wanted to take you to the bathroom at the restaurant and just suck on them for hours”

You would have never guessed Max to be into dirty talk but it’s a pleasant surprise. “I want you in me Max, please, I’ve been waiting for this”

“How can I deny such a pretty girl? '' With that being said, Max gets up and walks to his bag to pull out what seems to be a condom. While he’s doing that, you shimmy your underwear down your legs and throw it somewhere in the room. Before he approaches the bed, Max takes his underwear off and you see his cock spring free. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight. He’s big, just like you thought he would be. Pale and veiny. Pink and wet at the tip.

You wanted him in you but not before you got a taste of him. You motion him up towards your mouth, so that his legs are on both sides of your shoulders. “I want to taste you, can I Max?” You said hoping your voice and eyes truly show the desire you have burning for him.

“Go ahead sweetie, suck me off”

That’s all you needed to hear before taking the tip in your mouth, lightly sucking. Max groans at the sensation and places a hand behind your head for support. Popping yourself off the tip, you lick a long strip under his shaft, following the prominent vein that lies there. You place feather-like kisses on the head hoping to tease him. As you look up at him, you see his mouth slightly agape, eyes stuck on you. “Don't tease me baby, c'mon”.

You start to bob your head, up and down, making sure you move your tongue back and forth. You palm at his balls and hear a hiss, thinking he must be sensitive.

“Fuck, you suck me off so good, this mouth was made for me, wasn't it y/n”

You whimper at the words and try to push yourself further down his cock. Grabbing your head, he pulls you off and says “I need to get in you”.

You nod your head fast and practically beg “please Max, please want you in me”.

As he positioned himself between your legs, he's looking directly at your core, you start to feel a bit insecure and try to close your legs, but he uses both his to keep them open. “You have such a pretty pussy, want to absolutely devour it” what he does next has you almost combust. He hovers his mouth over your core and lets a string of spit come done to coat you. Taking his index and middle finger he holds you open and lets another drop of spit fall on you. You are moaning so loud, you place your hand over your mouth to try and keep yourself quiet.

Max places two fingers in you while simultaneously rubbing slow circles over your clit. You are desperate for him to get in you. “Max I'm good, you can get in me”.

That's all he needs to hear before he puts his condom on and sinks into you. The burn is unlike anything you have felt before. You were definitely not used to his size but the stretch was addicting. As he builds up pace, you place your hands over his back, your fingernails gripping onto his shoulders, it feels so so good. “Faster” you whisper. Max listens. You could already feel the coil in your stomach about to snap, what pushes you over the edge is Max’s dirty talk. “You wrap around me so good, best pussy I've ever had, what would people think if they saw my roommate's sister coming all over my cock” you can't respond, all you can do is moan.

Finally catching your breath you say “you feel so good Max, you are gonna make me cum” and you tuck your head into his neck licking a fat stripe near his Adams apple. “I'm gonna come too, come with me y/n”.

The next couple of minutes go by in a blur, you feel yourself clenching on his cock, cumming while he pumps in and out of you with his hand rubbing at your clit. He kisses you hard as he groans into your mouth. “Fuck that was good” he states and all you can do is nod.

Max takes off his condom, and goes to the bathroom, returning in his underwear, with a warm washcloth. You feel embarrassed but you let him clean you up. You are left undressed so you ask if he could hand you your dress. The room is filled with an awkward tension. Max can tell because he lays down on the bed and pats it for you to lay with him.

You feel like you should decline and be on your way, not wanting to overstay your welcome. But you genuinely don't think this will ever happen again and want to cherish what little time you have in the same proximity. You lay with your head on his chest and his arm thrown over you with the tv playing in the background. Time passes quickly and within 30 minutes you hear soft snores coming out of max. You take this as your cue to leave. You slip yourself away and gather your belongings. Taking one last glance at him you smile and quietly make your way out of the room.

You don't have a lot of time to reflect once you get back to your room because you have to shower, and pack for your flight in the morning. You don't know if you and Max will ever reconnect like that, but you are grateful for the time you shared.

You don't see or hear from Max before you leave Japan, but maybe it's for the best. Your brother didn't expect anything and you are determined to keep it that way.

The first couple of weeks back in Mexico were rough, slowly recovering from your trip. Around 6 weeks after being home and two more grand prix taking place, you feel sick, like a stomach bug has really knocked you down. It was so bad that you weren't able to go to the Miami gp like you wanted.

Deciding it has been lingering for far too long you decide to go to the doctor. The first thing they ask you is if it's possible if you are pregnant. Your first thought is no, but you remember you and Max had hooked up around two months ago. You feel a pit in your stomach and your heart rate speeds up. You couldn't be right, he wore a condom, and you hadn't had sex for like a year prior to that.

After you take your pee test, you have never been more scared or felt more alone. You want your mom here. After what felt like an eternity, the doctor came in with a smile and sat down. “Congratulations y/n you are pregnant”. The world came to a stand still and all you can do is cry.

Because how in the hell are you going to tell your brother you are pregnant with his teammate's baby. How are you going to tell Max that you are pregnant?

Simple. You won't.

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leclercsluvs · 1 month

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CL16/DR3 | Already Over | smau

part 5

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

an: this isn't super long but i had to include lando winning and some more story progression i suppose. i'll get to work on a longer oart soon! <33 pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader, daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

landonorris

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 2.863.899 others landonorris P1 BABY!!! WE FUCKING DID IT! couldn't be more thankful! thanks for all the cheers!! tagged: mclaren

alex_albon congrats!!!!💪👏

lewishamilton WELL DONE

maxfewtrell so proud brother 🧡

georgerussel63 congrats mate!!

fernandoalo_oficial bravooooo🙌👏

martingarrix LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

yourusername told y'all i was gonna be there when lando get's his first win

danielricciardo oh so you werent there for me? got it 🤕 landonorris sorry mate she was there for me 💪 yourusername actually i was there for max but go off i suppose maxverstappen1 and i didn't even win yourusername do better next time >:( maxverstappen1 yes ma'am 🫡

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, danielricciardo and 2.985.572 others yourusername guess who's going to be an opener for taylor swift's eras tour 👀 tagged: taylorswift

taylorswift so glad to have you there!

danielricciardo so proud of you 😚

yourusername 🥹🫶

ricsworld do you think we'll get daniel at the eras tour content????

yourusername yes. if i have anything to yes, yes a million times.

landonorris will i be given a free ticket?🙃

yourusername can't make any promises, billionaire landonorris wow 💔 danielricciardo if it helps, i didn't get a free ticket either landonorris wow everything is fixed now ❤️‍🩹

scfty/n omggg!! taylor and y/n!! cant waittt! definitely getting tickets now

tayslover you're going to buy tickets for a 3 hour show just for the opener? 🤨 scfty/n well i like taylor too. y/n is just an addition to why i want to go

yourbff WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME ANYTHING???

yourusername you didn't ask 😚

sooo i know this isn't a long part in ANY way, it will take a bit longer for the next parts. i wasn't even considering continuing it so early, but lando won and i simply felt like i needed to release two little parts related to that considering i couldn't fit in his win yesterday because i was too tired (also because i didn't feel like taking out my laptop again last night so i was stuck with only my phone) anyway enjoy this small part while i brainstorm on what should happen :) also this isn't proof read so sorry if there's spelling mistakes

part 6

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 smau #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #formula 1 smau #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 x you #formula one smau #formula one x you #daniel ricciardo x y/n #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #lando norris miami win woooo!!#formula 1

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bratzforchris · 1 month

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Inked Daisies (Chapter 2)

A series

Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?

Read Chapter 1 here

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/drinking (reader and the triplets are 22 here), characters walking in on each other showering, nsfw content (no actual sex), a few uses of y/n (sometimes it's inevitable, y'all :P)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Y'all are about to kill me for this cliffhanger 🤗

“You’re here!” Chris smiled, throwing open the door. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“It was yesterday, Chris,” You giggled. “Now let us in so we don’t drop your dinner.”

“Us?” the youngest triplet asked you, cocking his head to the side.

Chris opened the front door wider to reveal Matt standing behind you, clearly annoyed at the fact that he hadn’t been let into his own home yet. You were holding a box of breadsticks and drinks from your favorite local pizza place while Matt carried the four boxes of pizza. Despite your protests that you could carry the pizza, the boy had refused, saying that he could do it because it was him and his brothers that could easily slam a whole pizza each by themselves. Secretly, you just thought it was cute that Matt wanted to help you, despite his “tough guy” façade.

“You guys came together?” a look of what could have been confusion, but also something else flashed across Chris’ face.

“You’re wack if you think I’m leaving her downtown alone at night. She’s too trusting; it’s like a puppy.” Matt murmured, shoving past you and Chris and into the house.

“Uh oh, Mattitude’s out now.” whatever expression had been on your best friend’s face was gone now, leaving you with the happy, sunny Chris you had always known.

“Out now? It’s always out.” You laughed, making your way into the kitchen you were all too familiar with.

“I heard that.”

You giggled to yourself, sitting the boxes down on the island. Breathing in the familiar scent of the boys’ home, any trace of the unease you had felt at Matt’s earlier demeanor disappeared. The triplets had been your best friends since high school, and not much had changed now that you were all adults, other than the fact that your hangouts were less frequent. Just like old times, you all piled onto the couch with your plates of pizza and drinks, scrolling through Netflix for a movie to watch.

You had sandwiched yourself between Nick and Chris, while Matt sat at the other end of the couch, silently eating his pizza and scrolling through his phone. You didn’t take the silence personally, though. After the conversation at the shop about the man who was making his job more difficult, you couldn’t blame the brunette for wanting a break. Though you weren’t as close with Matt as with the other two brothers, you still cared deeply for him. If that meant him being a little more quiet in order to rest, you didn’t mind it.

You turned towards Nick, snatching the leftover crust off his plate. “The stickers are selling well.” You stated, taking a sip of your Fanta.

Being close friends with a graphic designer as a business owner definitely had its perks; for example, the small, cartoon-style flower stickers that read “One Trick Peony” had sold out within three hours of your shop being open for the past week since you’d started stocking them. Despite his busy job as one of the most reputable graphic designers in Los Angeles, Nick still found time to prioritize your business. The stickers had been just one of the hit merchandise pieces he’d supplied you with.

“Do you know what you should sell?” Chris added, poking your cheek and then smiling when you looked at him fondly. “Alcohol. Lavender martinis would sell like crazy in a flower shop.”

“I’m not getting a liquor license,” You snorted. “Besides, I don’t even think the store has enough room for a bar.”

“Who said anything about a bar? All you need is a bartender.” Chris hummed, pulling you into his lap.

It was true. Chris had become quite skilled in his ability to make drinks any and everywhere over the past year since he’d gotten his bartender certification. In your opinion, the job was perfect for him. The fast-paced, fun environment and the amount of money you could make if you were entertaining and talkative was right up the brunette’s alley. His good nature made it pretty normal for him to come home on any given Friday night with about 600 dollars in cash.

You snuggled into your best friend’s chest, breathing in his boyish scent happily. “Maybe one day we can open a flower and brunch place with a bar.” You told him.

“You guys hear that? I’m the one Y/N wants to run a business with.” Chris chuckled, sticking his tongue out at the other two triplets.

“Just wait til she figures out how you actually act,” Nick grumbled, pressing play on the movie you all had decided on. “Now be quiet.”

Before looking over at the movie, you turned your eyes towards Matt. He was still withdrawn into himself, curled into the L-shaped corner of the couch now. He had put his phone down, though, and in a feat of chance, turned to look at you at the exact same moment. Matt cocked his head like he wanted to ask you a question, but then shook his head, averting his eyes. You shrugged, figuring it still had to do with the exhaustion and stress from earlier in the day, but you couldn’t help but notice the feeling growing in your tummy at the thought that Matt had been looking at you first.

One terrible, low-budget movie later, you sat up out of Chris’ hold and looked around the living room. Nick had abandoned the movie in favor of his laptop, seemingly editing some sort of advertisement. That was just his personality. If something recreational didn’t immediately capture his attention, he was back to working his ass off. Maybe that was what made him such a successful entrepreneur, but either way, you admired him for helping people bring their dreams for their designs to fruition. Chris was scrolling through his phone, every now and then migrating into his work group chat to chuckle at the stories his fellow bartenders had to share about cutting someone off for the night. Matt, on the other, had fallen asleep, chin resting in his hand. You felt rather bad for him; January was always a stressful month for tattoo artists and piercers because people had Christmas money and gift cards, and they wanted their modifications to be healed by summer time.

“I’m gonna shower,” You told your two (awake) best friends, standing up and stretching. “Do you guys mind?”

“You know that’s like asking to shower in your own home, right?” Chris stood up behind you, tickling your sides.

“It’s…still…the polite thing to do!” You laughed, gasping for breath at the tickling.

“But yes, we don’t care. Go ahead.” Chris placed a friendly kiss on the back of your head.

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you and your best friends to share platonic cheek kisses, cuddles, and hugs, but it didn’t make your heart any less happy. You smiled, making your way to Matt’s bathroom. You had kept shower stuff at the triplets’ home ever since the four of you had moved to LA. After all, you were at their house almost more than you were at your apartment. You trekked towards Matt’s bathroom since it was the closest to the living room. You knew he wouldn’t mind, especially because A) he was asleep and B) you’d done it before.

You warmed the water up, ridding yourself of your clothes from the day, and stepping into the steamy heaven. You didn’t bother locking the door, knowing that on the off chance Matt did wake up, Chris and Nick would inform him that you were using his bathroom. You began to wash your hair, letting the rose scent of your shampoo fill the bathroom as you massaged your scalp, washing away the worries of both a busy day at your business, and the odd encounters you’d been having with the middle triplet all evening. You were so caught up in thinking that you didn’t even hear the doorknob to the bathroom turn as Matt stepped into the bathroom.

Matt knew he shouldn’t have. You were one of his closest friends. There was no way he should be watching you showering. It was weird and wrong on so many levels, yet he couldn’t pull his eyes away from your body. You looked peaceful, head thrown back under the water and eyes closed, soft moans escaping your lips as you relaxed. The way the warm water and soap suds caressed your body and curves as they cascaded into the drain made him think about what other white substances would look like dripping down your body in the shower.

What the fuck? Why was he thinking about railing you? You two weren’t even that close and he didn’t like you like that. Still, Matt couldn’t deny the tightening in his cock at the image of you in front of him, and the image of you in his mind. He told himself that it was just because he hadn’t been laid in so long, but the brunette couldn’t help the soft groan that made its way out of his mouth.

At the sound, your eyes flew open, head turning towards the door. “Matt?” You futilely tried to cover yourself, knowing it was useless. Matt had already seen it all.

“Fuck, I…uh, fuck–Y/N, I’m sorry,” he grumbled, clearing his throat. “I was just coming to brush my teeth and Nick and Chris didn’t tell me you were…in here.”

You shut the water off quickly, grabbing the towel you’d thrown over the side of the glass door and wrapping it around your body. “Shit, I’m sorry, Matt. I should’ve locked the door.”

“It’s um, it’s fine,” Matt coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his face turned red. “I’m just gonna…grab my toothbrush and use Chris’ bathroom tonight. ‘S all yours in here.”

You watched as Matt grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and scrambled out of the bathroom. You were still standing in the draining shower, dripping wet and shivering. Part of you couldn’t believe that one of your best male friends had seen you showering, but for some reason, another part of you wasn’t mad about it. Unbeknownst to you, though, Matt was feeling the same way in his cold shower downstairs.

tags ♡: @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

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parvuls · 8 months

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A Comprehensive List Of Jack's Canon Chirps

"Bittle, HEADS UP!" [Bitty passes out] "…Or get into fetal position at central ice. That's also an option."

"You've never seen the sun rise from a rink, eh? Thought you were a figure skating champion."

Bitty: "A fist bump! I didn't know you did those." Jack: "Ha - you gotta work for them."

"The sad thing is, I can tell he's lying not because of the library part? But because he'd never leave a pie unattended."

"Oh and Bittle, before I forget. This summer? Eat more protein."

"When you get Youtube famous don't go out and chirp me all over the internet, eh? 'Night."

"How many of those tweets do you start with oh my god y'all?"

"It's way too easy to make you laugh. Make sure you tweet that." [looks over Bitty's shoulder to make sure he tweets that]

[texts Bitty a smiley face] [follows up with:] "Sorry that was a typo."

"You only tweeted twice while we were working, Bittle. That's a record."

[Bitty gets knocked over] "I guess you're looking for extra checking practice, eh, Bittle?"

"We should get going and let Bittle here text about his walk to class."

Bitty: "E-excuse you, but my kitchen is no place for checking!" Jack: "…Your kitchen?" Bitty: "Well, the kitchen! Now move your big -- uhm." Jack: "My big…?"

[At Thanksgiving] "All that turkey's gonna make you slow for tomorrow, Chowder."

[To a kid wearing a Brad Marchand jersey while asking for Jack's autograph] "You know this isn't me, right?"

"17." [At Bitty's confusion:] "That's the number of pies you baked in September. In case you were wondering where your time went."

"I'm sure you'd be done [with your history essay] too if you had tweeted it. Is that an option?"

[looks at Bitty's tweets] "I said where'd you get that camera not is that the camera you use. Come on, Bittle."

[finds Bitty's surprise cookies] "I'm surprised your cookies got through costumes Bittle."

"I told my mom about all your tweeting? She says you're not following her. I'm more surprised than offended, Bittle."

"Shitty, don't you think I should get a tweet transcript or something since he quotes me so much? For legal purposes."

"Hey, Bittle. That Daily reporter didn't rope you into an interview after that jump?"

[after meeting Farmer] "She was nice, eh? Cute. …I bet you're texting about our lunch now."

[Nursey accidentally hits a kid in the face with his hockey bag] "Nice check, Nurse."

[in the middle of the night] "I figured you'd be up baking a pie or three."

[Bitty gets shoe-checked] "Hey, it's no shoes, no shirt, no service, Bittle."

"Whose shoulders are you going to sit on at Spring C, Bittle?"

[Shitty tears up while kissing the ice] "Crying a bit there, eh?"

[SMH buy Bitty a new oven] Bitty: "I need to bake something right this second!" Jack: "Stop crying first."

"If we move the kitchen table out, you can bring your bed in."

[About graduating] "The biggest change is probably my diet. Less pie."

"And hey, it's a bit different than you and Lardo, eh? Since everyone knew you were in love with her since sophomore year."

[during Falcs Faceoff] Teammate: "Heard you've never lost one a these, I'm scared." Jack: "Yeah, you should be."

[Gets chirped for dating Bitty] "This is a Samwell hockey record. Chirps lasting longer than the ones re: Holster & Esther S." Holster: "…Jack." Jack: ":)"

Nursey: "Yo, Bitty do you remember any French?" Jack: "No." Bitty: "I can speak for myself, Mr. Zimmermann." Jack: "Well. Not in French."

[To Marty & Thirdy] "Hauling your kids around on a sled just about wore you guys out, eh?"

[To Tater] "Potato champ needs more sleep, eh?"

"Bitty? Hey, bud, come on, say something -" [Bitty passes out] "Or you can pass out at center ice. I'm getting deja vu."

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #jack zimmermann #zimbits #I meant to do a VERY SERIOUS reread of the comic but then I couldn't help myself #what do you MEAN this isn't my best post ever #text

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xfancyuu · 1 year

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~ now i draw a luxury nxde. [aemond targaryen] 18+ SMUT

because it's the beginning of spring i wanted to post for that so in universe it is also warm and flowers are blooming! reader is afab with she/her pronouns & my requests are open! this could be read as though it's in the same universe as my other bolton!reader works, though she's married to aemond and is referred to as lady targaryen. there are no appearance indicators in this fic, this is kinda canon divergence. also i didn't bold the dialogue for this one and i actually think i'm gonna go and reformat my other fics to match! this fic is also known as frolicking and fucking so yeah that's what you're in for. smut will be indicated with a different coloured line break if you do not wish to read it. [1,757 words]

this fic contains: wall sex, public sex, dressed sex, choking, spitting, voyeurism, name-calling, corruption kink, attempted dirty talk? y'all are just newly married and experimenting tbh, y'all degrade each other, slight orgasm denial, cumming inside. if i missed any please lmk!

You had never imagined life as a married woman to be so blissful. You had heard from the ladies in court that they simply did their marital duty and did not enjoy spending time with their husbands. They had told you that the bliss would wear off within the year once you had children, and they would steal your beauty.

You had all but rolled your eyes at their commentary. They were rude and bitter, seeking your own mood to be as equally unhappy as their own. They nitpicked at everything you did, from reading too much to what you ate and how you conducted yourself. Loneliness truly was more appealing than spending ceaseless amounts of time with women who were your mother's age and almost as bitter. Being surrounded with unmarried women was improper, they had told you — not that you paid them mind, as your ladies in waiting were all unmarried and far better company.

You found yourself in the gardens with your ladies-in-waiting more often than not, the weather was pleasant, and you'd much rather be outside than wallow inside without much joy. Flowers had brought you much more joy than you had anticipated, they livened your mood from the dreaded time spent with the married ladies in court. They wouldn't be seen outside without reason, whereas you did not care much for the opinions and thoughts of others in court, despite being a Princess.

The book within your lap had become much more interesting than whatever your ladies were gossiping about, you hadn't cared much for the people they were talking about, but the adventure of Lady Sunderland and her times in the Reach were too addictive to put down. Your ladies' had tried to gain your attention one too many times, but you were too engrossed in the book to care for the outside world.

The book was abruptly taken from your hands, making you both lose the page you were ready and had caused your brain to be hazy. You were both mad and irritated by the actions of someone clearly trying to ruin your day. "Do you mind?" You had asked, not expecting to see your husband as you looked up.

"Is it a crime for me to want to spend time with my wife?" Aemond had asked you, extending his hand as if expecting you to take it despite disturbing your peace.

"It's a crime when you snatch my book off of me and expect me to be happy about it." You retorted, deciding it was probably better to go along with him, and took his help to get off the grass. "Lucky for you, I like you enough not to lock you up."

"Oh how merciful." Aemond responded, not removing your hand from his grasp, "the flowers are blooming, you should be looking at the world instead of living in your books."

"I'll have you know I can do both equally," You retorted, leading Aemond away from the prying eyes and sharp ears of your ladies, "Now you're here you might as well keep me company if you won't let me read, perhaps a walk around the garden would do us both some good."

"I have a better idea than touring the gardens," Aemond had pulled you into a secluded pathway leading away from the hustle and bustle of everybody else.

"Your ideas always end up with us in trouble." You weren't entirely wrong, the disapproving look of Queen Alicent would be forever engrained in your brain.

"They may be troublesome, but you always have fun." You couldn't disagree, instead you simply followed Aemond to whichever location he wanted to show you.

Aemond had abruptly left you in the morning, leaving you needy and begging for him to finish the job he'd started yet he had left you without a thought for your own well-being. You could somewhat blame your crankiness and willingness to do such a deviant act in public with the possibility of anybody seeing and reporting such acts to the Queen.

The thought that you shouldn't be doing this had crossed your mind — the words would not leave your mouth though, you had wanted to do this, neediness had seeped in, with your skirts and underclothes raised above your waist, your modesty was damned and so were you.

The carnal need and desire you felt within yourself had put all your thoughts out the window, if you were in your usual mind frame you would have told Aemond no, that it was improper but words would not form in your throat. Instead, you kissed him back with almost as much longing.

The insatiability you had felt was consuming you, yet it felt more so annoying, Aemond hadn't truly done anything to you to make you feel this way, little touches and long stares did not warrant you feeling so flustered by the man so much you'd let him take you any which way he wanted.

You were expecting the current position you were in — being in public had never been a boundary you crossed with each other, yet he had so little patience when it had come to you, not even checking if the garden was secluded enough not to have prying eyes follow you, "Who knew my lady wife could be such a whore?" Aemond had whispered in your ear, though you could not form words of your own, "Wanting me to take her right now with not a care in the world who witnesses it."

"I think you can only get your cock up with the thought of an audience, you leave me so frustrated when we're alone in our chamber."

"You may come to regret that, wife." Aemond had always had to get the last word, "Your tongue may be sharp, but I will fuck you until you can't form another sentence." He'd begun unlacing his trousers, and you truly knew you were in for it — whatever it entailed, you weren't sure.

"You keep saying what you're going to do, but you haven't even stuck it in yet, tell me husband, are you struggling? Do you need me to help you stick it in? Can you not find the hole?" You couldn't finish your light-hearted taunting Aemond had entered you with little care, it was sloppy and lustful as though he felt as much need as you did.

You couldn't stay quiet, not with how intoxicating Aemond had felt inside, thrusting himself as far as he could inside of you, the slow pace was comfortable but irritating, you wanted it fast and hard, you wanted Aemond to show you the side of himself he hid away, the side which would make you blush if you so much as thought about it.

You were so used to being in control, Aemond had ensured you always felt comfortable and could stop at any moment but seeing him so dominant had made you tingle, then gasp as you felt a hand around your throat. "You've got to be quiet, you don't want the world to hear you, do you? Don't want the world to hear what a whore you become for cock."

The sight of your ladies seeing you in such a position had the opposite effect than what you thought it would, the idea of corrupting them as much as you had been corrupted had you clenching around Aemond's cock.

"Not so fast, princess," Aemond spoke, his pace slowing and causing the momentum and build-up to your own orgasm to be depleted. "Good girls get to cum, you've not been a good girl, have you?"

You couldn't respond, the hand wrapped around your throat had become tighter, "Going to cum inside you, princess, have you got a problem with that?" You had tried to shake your head, but with the grip Aemond had on your throat, your head hadn't moved an inch.

Aemond had increased his speed, and you knew he was close to his own peak despite ruining your own, the pettiness within you had decided if you didn't get your release neither was Aemond. As if sensing your plans, Aemond thrust into you harder, keeping you in place as though you were a doll he could do what he pleased. "You're going to take my seed, and you're going to thank me for it."

Your orgasm was too sudden for you to realise what was happening, from the words Aemond spoke to the way he was fucking you, it was far too much to process and your body reacted entirely by itself. You knew disobeying Aemond would have consequences but in the depth of your own pleasure and Aemond continuing to fuck you, you didn't care. You'd take any punishment to feel a moment of the pleasure you were currently feeling.

"Naughty girl." Aemond whispered in your ear as you came down from your high, "I thought you'd finally be a good girl, though I suppose I set my standards too high for you. Open your mouth."

You did as he commanded, not wanting to make him more upset with you. However, you weren't prepared for him to spit in your mouth — or to like it as much as you did. "You belong to me and you do as I say."

It hadn't taken long for Aemond to spill his seed within you, his grip on your throat loosening and his teeth biting into your skin. It wasn't often you had allowed him to cum inside you — the prospect of what would follow being in the forefront of your mind. "I'm yours." You reassured Aemond as he came down from his climax.

"Are you okay there?" You had asked, not used to such an intense reaction from Aemond, "I really enjoyed myself." You reassured him, you were so close and the euphoria of the situation had you cradling Aemond within your arms.

"It was just a bit... much, I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked, pulling out of you. At that moment, you knew you'd need to bathe. The feeling of his seed coming out of you had you almost recoiling.

"Trust me, you'd know if you were hurting me." You didn't want to approach the subject of being witnessed in such an act. "Your mother may be expecting more grandchildren soon."

"Moontea exists, my dear." You hadn't been married a year yet, it wasn't entirely suspicious that you had not shown signs of being pregnant. "And for what it's worth, I enjoy our time just being the two of us."

as always, thank you for reading this! i really appreciate it. i really enjoy writing for aemond so if y'all have any requests send them my way. my next hotd fic will be for helaena so if that interests you just message me! crossposted on ao3 under the name hedonism!

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf imagine #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x y/n #i just had fun writing this if you couldnt tell #basically i watched the tudors and yeah #i think this is the filthiest thing i've wrote

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suzukiblu · 4 months

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okay FINE I'll do "think pink" for tomorrow's WIP Wednesday, hah. But also now I gotta post the cONTEXT so I can continue it from there, so y'all are just gonna have to have all this content and this here read-more, oh nooooo~ 💖

Kon shifts back on the mattress and lays himself out on his stomach, propped up on his elbows with his head not quite in Tim's lap, but definitely down on eye-level with his cock. His mouth feels that eager, greedy way again and he bites his tongue just to keep himself from licking his lips. He wants to do this right. He wants Tim to like this.

He wants to be good for him.

Tim's hand is still resting on top of his head, and he threads his fingers through Kon's hair again. Picks up his camera again too and snaps a few shots. Kon resists a stupid urge to duck his head or squirm; smirks up at him instead, and then sticks his tongue out at him.

Tim takes a picture of that, too.

“I realize this is a stupid thing to say given the whole nature of your creation and the fact I know you’ve been cloned yourself, but Jesus, do you have any idea what you look like right now?” Bernard says, rubbing at his own jaw and watching Kon intently. Kon feels warm and heated under that look, but also has to stifle a laugh at the thought.

“Can’t say Match and I have ever gotten along this well, so no, not really,” he says with a wry grin, wrapping a hand around Tim’s cock again and giving it a few long, slow strokes from root to tip. Tim hisses very, very quietly and takes another picture. Kon is immediately overwhelmed with options and has, actually, no idea what to do here. Or at least no idea where to start, anyway. Tim’s cock is a warm, perfect fit in his hand and he is having a very hard time not obsessing over just where and how else it might so perfectly fit, and he just wants to make him feel good, wants to make him like it, wants to make him happy–

He really, really wants that.

“Well, there’s a mental image,” Bernard muses consideringly. Tim’s fingers curl and his nails dig into Kon’s scalp. Kon pushes into them without really thinking it through, and Tim hisses again.

“Pet,” he says, his voice just a little bit strangled. Kon wants to make it crack. Kon wants to make him crack. He wants to know exactly how carried away Tim can get.

Exactly how carried away Tim wants to get.

“Tim,” he says, and licks his lips after all. It seems like such a dumb, cliche thing to do, but Tim and Bernard’s hearts both skip a beat watching him do it, and their pupils dilate in unison.

It’s a bit of a confidence booster, to put it mildly.

“Tim,” Kon repeats, leaning in just enough to nuzzle Tim’s cock before pressing a kiss against the side of it. It’s a lot more than just making out with them or jacking himself off to put on a show for them, and it feels like it should feel weird, but it just makes his gut twist and flip and heat. Tim letting him touch him this intimately, Tim letting him touch him at all . . . Tim letting him do all this is . . .

Fuck, pink kryptonite really is Kon’s new favorite thing.

“Told you I haven’t done this before, right?” he says even though he knows he did, then flicks the flat of his tongue out against the head of Tim’s cock. It twitches against his tongue, and he feels a rush of eager heat coiling low in his gut. “You gotta tell me how to make it good for you. How to be good for you.”

“Fuck,” Tim mutters under his breath, his fingers nearly slipping off the button of his camera.

“C’mon, you’re the boss, Robin,” Kon coaxes, and Tim exhales.

“Holy shit,” Bernard says with a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “You are a menace, you know that?”

“Kiss me again, pet,” Tim says, his voice gratifyingly rough and his fingers tightening in Kon’s hair. There’s no possible way he could yank it hard enough to hurt him, but his grip is still so careful.

Kon feels several fucking ways about that fact.

He presses another kiss to Tim’s cock, obviously, just above his own loosely-circled fingers, and then mouths up the length of it as he tightens his fingers around him again. Tim grunts, flattening his hand against his hair and sliding it around to cup the back of his head.

“Good boy,” he says. “Use your tongue.”

Kon does; ducks his mouth again and then drags his tongue back up Tim’s cock, broad and flat. Tim grits his teeth and knocks his head back against the headboard–against Kon’s jacket–and Kon feels like there’s something buzzing under his skin, like there’s something he can’t quite contain inside himself. It’s . . . been a while, he thinks. Since he felt that so much, he means. Like, it’s been a while since he fucked anyone at all, much less anyone he liked this much, but it’s been a while since he felt it like this.

Probably since he was with Cassie, come to think, which kinda makes sense.

He slides his tongue up and around the head of Tim’s cock and Tim chokes on another grunt. His hips don’t push up, but they do just barely shift. Kon feels even more of that buzzing warmth and kisses Tim’s cock again, wet and messy this time, and Tim curses under his breath and snaps a few more pictures. Kon winks up at him, not even trying not to smirk against his dick. Bernard laughs in delight and bites his knuckles.

“Holy shit,” he repeats reverently. Kon kind of wants him to put a hand in his hair too, maybe, or at least touch him some way or another.

“Good boy,” Tim repeats himself too, though in his case he has to do it through still-gritted teeth. Kon thinks about the fact he’s making Tim react this much, controlled and collected and always-prepared Tim, and the thought is one he really fucking likes. If he can affect Tim this much, if Tim likes what he’s doing this much . . .

Yeah, he definitely likes that.

“You listen so well. And you’re so eager,” Tim murmurs, his tone low and approving and spine-melting as he strokes through Kon’s hair again even more spine-meltingly. “Show me how much of me you can take.”

Kon doesn’t hesitate; doesn’t even wait long enough to crack a dirty joke or make a flirty comment. He just opens his mouth and drops it down over Tim, around Tim, letting Tim inside him, and . . .

And fuck, Kon thinks fleetingly, and then wraps his mouth fully around Tim’s cock and presses his tongue up against the underside as he slides down, and Tim’s hand tightens in his hair again, and–

Kon doesn’t really have a gag reflex, either because of the half-Kryptonian thing or because of the whole ��weaned on a feeding tube” thing when he was initially being developed–who knows which–and he doesn’t really need to breathe all that much anymore either, so if Tim’s telling him to show him how much of him he can take . . .

Well. The logical thing to do is to really commit, isn’t it?

It feels–weird, a little, and kind of awkward and strange, but . . .

“Tilt your head back a bit and relax your throat,” Bernard advises, reaching over to tap a couple of fingers gently against the corner of Kon’s jaw, and Kon just–does. Because again, not much of a gag reflex, and also he can sort of just use his TTK to ease the whole process, so–yeah. He tilts his head and relaxes his throat, and pulls Tim’s cock into his throat.

It really does feel like a perfect fit, he thinks a little bit hazily, and then he swallows around him. Tim curses. Loudly.

“Okay, so Kryptonians can deepthroat on the first try,” Bernard observes conversationally, his fingers curling against Kon’s jaw. “Good to know. Useful information. Also, oh my god.”

“Good boy,” Tim says roughly, stroking a heavy hand through Kon’s hair, and Kon feels warm and buzzed and a little bit dazed, and just . . . rolls his tongue up tighter against the weight of his cock and swallows around him again. He should bob his head, he knows, but he kind of doesn’t want to. Just having Tim in his mouth like this, in his throat like this . . . “Fuck, pet. Look at me.”

Kon flicks his eyes up to Tim’s face again, though they’re heavy and unfocused-feeling, and finds himself looking into his camera lens again. Tim takes a few pictures.

Maybe a lot of pictures, actually, Kon’s vaguely aware, but he’s a little bit distracted right now. Just–Tim’s cock is a warm, solid weight in his mouth and on his tongue, hard and throbbing for him, and Tim told him he was good and told him to look at him and that’s . . . really all he’s worried about right now, yeah.

He sucks, obviously. Swallows around him; rolls his tongue up and tries to swallow him down farther, even though his nose is already practically pressing into Tim’s stomach. It’s just a reflex, more than anything else. Bernard’s fingertips are still on his jaw. He likes them there.

It’s a lot different from going down on a girl, obviously, but it gives him that same heady rush and feeling of usefulness he always gets from pleasing someone, which–well yeah, of course it does. The pink K is changing what he’s attracted to, not what he likes to do. So like, of course he’d still like giving oral and getting told he was doing a good job and all that stuff. It’d be weird if he didn’t.

Kon can’t really focus on Tim’s face past the camera, but Tim’s free hand is still in his hair and he can feel him through his TTK–him and Bernard both–and hear both of their accelerated heartbeats and quickened breathing. Tim's are more-so than Bernard, but Bernard isn't currently getting his dick sucked, so Kon figures that’s understandable.

He wants to touch him too, and considers reaching into his lap or just using his TTK to feel him up a bit, but he also wants to concentrate on this and make it as good as he can, do it as right as he can. He wants Tim to really, really love this. To think he’s doing well. To be pleased with and proud of him.

If he can make this good for Tim, be good for Tim–

Kon really wants to do that.

He makes himself bob his head; sucks tightly and doesn’t even pretend not to be using his TTK too, mimicking the same licking he’s already doing with a phantom tongue working in counterpoint to his own, and he cups and rolls Tim’s balls in his hand and lets another little tendril of TTK press up behind them and rub in along his taint.

Tim curses.

“That into it already, babe?” Bernard teases, sounding amused. Kon glances towards him a little muzzily and feels even warmer at the sight of the heated look on his face, but for obvious reasons keeps most of his attention on what he’s doing to Tim.

What he’s doing for Tim, more like.

“TTK,” Tim grits out, his voice a little strangled and fingers twisting just a little bit tighter in Kon’s hair.

“Oh,” Bernard says, his eyes widening. “Ohhhhh. Well, okay, that’s incredibly distracting. Jesus.”

“You're doing so good for your first time, pet,” Tim says, tight and tender, and Kon feels that heady rush again and lets out a stifled moan around his cock. Tim hisses, his hips twitching against the mattress, but the fingers he has twisted tight in Kon's hair stay careful. Stay gentle.

Kon would be perfectly fine with Tim yanking his hair as hard as he wants right now, but honestly, the fact he's keeping the totally unnecessary promise of being gentle with him is really doing it for him.

Like. Really.

He moans again; swallows Tim back down as far as he can and flexes his tongue and his TTK around him, and Tim makes a choked noise in the back of his throat and drags his fingers through his hair very, very gently. Kon is pretty sure he'd let Tim hold a kryptonite razor to his throat at this point in their lives and just assume if he decided to slash it, it was for the best.

So that's . . . definitely a way to feel about the guy whose dick is currently down his throat.

Fuck.

Kon squirms, just a little, and presses his hips down into the sheets as his own dick decides it's getting a bit more interested in the current proceedings. His refractory period is quick enough that he's surprised it took it this long to, frankly, because the whole experience of having Tim like this is more than a little overwhelming.

“So good, pet,” Tim grunts, and Kon's dick is definitely interested in that. “Don't stop. You look so pretty like this.”

“I feel like you could go with a much stronger descriptor than ‘pretty’ here,” Bernard says, trailing his fingers down under Kon's jaw and pressing his thumb in against the stretched-open corner of his mouth. “I don't know, ‘mind-meltingly hot’ or ‘fucking gorgeous’. ‘Probably illegal in half the sector and should be if you're not’, maybe.”

“Perfect,” Tim says, which is stronger enough that Kon nearly chokes before the bastard starts elaborating. “Always just what I need. Always so good for me. Always my boy. I can trust you with anything.”

Kon doesn't moan around him this time; he whines. Tim strokes his hair back off his face and he's vaguely aware of the camera shutter going off, or maybe having been going off this whole time, but all he can actually think about or do is suck Tim off. He digs his fingers into Tim's thighs and swallows around his cock and makes more near-pleading whining noises, and doesn't even care if it makes him sound stupid. Tim said he was doing good. Tim said he was perfect.

Yeah, no, Kon really doesn't give a fuck about anything else right now.

He really does wish they could've skipped the condom, though. The idea of Tim very literally coming in his mouth is–is a lot. And Tim said he wanted him to taste him.

Kon would absolutely do that for him, if it weren't like, a health issue or whatever.

His jaw doesn't ache, because he's too Kryptonian for that, and his mouth isn't going to look like he's been sucking cock because again, he's too Kryptonian for that. But they both feel used and sensitive in a new and unfamiliar way, and the tight slide of Tim’s cock along his tongue is weirdly hypnotic, and the hands they both have in his hair and on his jaw make him feel restless and eager and needy, and everything Tim says just sounds so, so good right now.

Kon wants him to keep talking as bad as he thinks he’s ever wanted anything in bed, so he puts in the fucking effort and does his best imitation of all the best blowjobs of his life; doesn’t hesitate or hold back or shy away, goes in hard and puts in the work, doesn’t half-ass any of it.

Lets himself be as eager as he feels.

But also takes his time, just a little, and savors.

“Fuck,” Tim chokes, and his head hits the headboard hard. His cock twitches in Kon’s mouth and gets even harder, and Kon feels–feels–“Good boy.”

Like that, yeah. He feels like a good boy.

Like Tim’s good boy, specifically.

That is actually doing even more for him than it usually would be. Like–Cassie-levels of “doing it for him”, again. Which still makes sense, obviously, but is just a lot. Kon should’ve expected it, probably, just . . .

“Oh, pet,” Tim breathes out roughly, petting his hair so gently, and Kon stops caring about anything else. Tim’s petting his hair and letting him touch him and putting up with him crashing his weekend, and that’s all that Kon gives a fuck about right now.

That and the way Bernard keeps tracing his fingers up his jaw and down his throat, anyway.

“You are an unfairly quick learner,” Bernard says, all delighted admiration and approval, and Kon tries to figure out if he can swallow Tim down any farther. Obviously no, because he’s already got every inch of him it’s possible to in his mouth and throat, but he really tries. Tim curses a few more times. Kon . . .

Kon doesn’t quite do it on purpose, but his TTK starts to sort of . . . wander, a little. Or–reach out a little, more like, and wrap itself around Tim and Bernard both and just sort of . . . hold on, maybe.

“Oh,” Bernard says, sounding breathless, and digs his nails in against Kon’s impenetrable skin. Kon can feel every inch of him; every inch of him and Tim both. “You really are a flirt, huh. And a real multi-tasker, too.”

Kon would do something to live up to the “flirt” rep, maybe, but it is just so much more important to suck Tim’s cock right now.

Like much, much more important.

He wonders how long Tim’s going to let him do this. Wonders how long he’s going to last, wonders if he likes it as much as he wants him to, wonders if–

Tim strokes the hand in his hair down the side of his face to cup his jaw and snaps another picture or five. Kon feels warm and heavy and electric. Tim likes it. Tim likes him. Tim’s petting him and taking pictures and–and he’s–

“Such a good boy for me,” Tim says, his voice a low, heated rasp, and Kon feels the kind of buzzing bliss he usually only gets when he’s way deep into a scene with somebody who’s really, really put the work in. Cassie got him there this easy, the handful of times they’d tried this kind of play, but . . . “So sweet. So obedient. Just what I want you to be.”

Kon definitely whines around Tim’s cock again, and definitely does his best to live up to that compliment. He’s dizzy and warm and his mouth is too full to talk past and his throat is too full to talk past, and Tim’s cupping his jaw and taking pictures of him and Bernard is drawing his fingers along the other side of his face and pressing the pad of his thumb in against his lower lip. It’s wet and slick with spit and Kon wishes it were wet and slick with Tim. Wishes Bernard were touching him more. Wishes Tim would fuck his mouth as gently as he’s petting his face right now.

“Just perfect,” Tim murmurs, and Kon swallows around his dick and grinds his own down into the mattress without really meaning to, because how could he ever listen to Tim talking to him like this and not do that? He wants touched more. He wants back between the two of them. He wants–

He grinds his hips down again, swallows Tim down again with a lingering shudder, and Tim–pauses.

“Pet,” he asks very, very carefully, his voice still a low rasp. “Are you . . . getting off on doing this?”

It’s not really a question Kon understands, because of course he’s doing that. Obviously he is. But he’s being good for Tim, being good for Tim is all he wants to do, so he just purrs in reply and bobs his head and works his mouth around him until Tim’s hand tightens against his jaw and his heartbeat is doing things Kon’s never heard it do before.

“Babe, I love you, but you are asking questions with very obvious answers right now,” Bernard says wryly.

“Pet,” Tim says tightly, back to breathing like the doors are gonna blow in and smoothing a hand back through Kon’s hair again. It feels so, so good. “Can you come like this for me? For my cock in your mouth like this?”

Kon definitely can.

And it’s not going to be much longer ‘til he definitely does, the way he feels right now.

Kon sucks harder, swallows tighter, works his mouth more and uses his TTK to help it out, and Tim hisses under his breath and still doesn’t yank his hair. Kon likes that so much.

Likes him so much.

He can’t keep himself from grinding his hips down into the sheets, it feels like, but Tim asked him if he could get off like this, so it’s not like he’s trying to stop or be patient. Not like he’s trying to hold anything back or behave. Tim wants him to do it, right? Wants him to get off like this. For this. So he’s–behaving, by doing this.

Being good by doing this.

Kon makes a noise. A tight, strangled one that he doesn’t quite know how to define. Tim trails his fingers along his temple and then back down to his jaw, soft and gentle, and this time Kon whimpers. He digs his fingers into Tim’s thighs again; drags them down and swallows him down. Tim curses. His camera goes off, though the lens isn’t aimed as carefully as before. Kon whimpers again and wants Tim to yank his hair, fuck his mouth, come in his mouth; use him like a thing and treat him however he wants and tell him how good he is for it.

If he’s a pet or an animal or just some stupid idiot humping the sheets while Tim and Bernard pet him and Tim’s cock fills up his mouth and throat–if he’s good, a good boy, Tim’s good boy–if he’s doing what Tim wants him to be doing–

If Tim is still, still, still being so gentle, just like he promised . . .

Well–then Kon is going to absolutely lose his fucking mind and melt into this fucking mattress, is what’s going to happen here.

But not before he makes Tim come.

He wants to make Tim come. He wants to see what he looks like after he does; wants to hear how he sounds, find out what he’ll do and say and–

“I need you to know, I am going to go actually insane before we’re done here,” Bernard informs Tim, shifting into his side and pressing a kiss in behind his ear as he curls his fingers in behind Kon’s ear. Kon feels weirdly, weirdly obsessed with that particular little parallel. “Like I’m feeling about a hop, skip, and a jump away from getting a gimmick and going full rogue here, that’s what’s happening in my head right now.”

“The only reason I haven’t lost my mind yet is because we had to use condoms,” Tim says very, very evenly.

“Really?” Bernard asks, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Because I’d have thought having to use condoms while thinking about how your boy didn’t want to would’ve shoved you right over the edge there, babe.”

“. . . ngh,” Tim mutters, tightening his grip in Kon’s hair as Kon shudders.

“Seriously,” Bernard says, biting his lip for a moment. “Like, the fact that if we were all less responsible people he’d be letting you come in him is really making me–”

“Ngh,” Tim says, screwing his eyes shut, and Kon thinks about how that might feel, about the idea of Tim coming in his mouth or maybe–

He muffles a heated groan around Tim’s cock, and Tim hisses through his teeth and knocks his head back against the headboard again. Back against Kon’s jacket again.

Kon really wants to ask him to wear it for a little while, and not because of any practical reasons like keeping the pink kryptonite in its pocket in close and doing its radioactive magic or anything like that.

“Just saying,” Bernard says, and Kon wants to feel him up and kinda wishes he could get both their cocks in his mouth right now or maybe–maybe–

If he'd waited, maybe they would've been up for trying out a spitroast kind of setup. Maybe they'll be up for trying that out later. Maybe–

Fuck, he wants more. Wants everything they've both got.

If he does this good enough, maybe they’ll give it to him.

“You look so good like this. I wish I could see my come on your face,” Tim murmurs lowly, trailing his fingers along the arc of Kon's cheekbone. “Wish I could make you drip with it.”

Kon and his total lack of gag reflex somehow actually choke. Tim's eyes flare.

“Don’t hurt yourself, pet,” Tim says as he strokes Kon’s face again, all tender and gentle like that’s actually something Kon could ever do this easily. It makes him feel–weird. Several kinds of weird.

It makes him feel like something that maybe could get hurt that easily, or maybe just something Tim doesn’t want to risk getting hurt no matter what, which is . . . a weird way to feel, honestly.

But he doesn’t–mind it, or anything. Doesn’t mind feeling like something that Tim wants to be careful with, something he wants to make sure not to break; not to hurt.

Yeah. No, he definitely doesn’t mind that at all.

“Fuck, you look good like this,” Bernard mutters. “I am definitely going to lose my mind and die over this, I need a rogue gimmick, like, yesterday. What’s one nobody’s done yet, I don’t wanna be derivative or whatever.”

“Good luck finding that,” Tim snorts breathlessly, shaking his head. His thumb slides back along the arch of Kon’s cheekbone and it’s such a little touch, but it feels so–so sweet, for lack of a better word. Feels like Tim’s still being so careful.

Makes Kon feel like . . .

He grabs Tim’s hips and tugs hopefully at them, not sure if he wants the other to fuck his mouth or just wants to make sure he isn’t going to pull back or pull away. He bobs his head faster and swallows around his cock again and again, and Tim hisses sharp little curses under his breath, and Kon can’t help grinding his own cock down harder into the mattress.

“Fuck,” Bernard muses, pressing the pad of his thumb in against the corner of Kon’s stretched-open mouth again. “You’re really into this, huh.”

“That was a question?” Tim huffs, and Kon feels warm and good and warm.

“I was talking to Kon, babe,” Bernard says, and Tim hisses through his teeth and covers his face with a hand. “At this rate I think he’s gonna come before you do.”

He might be right, the way Kon feels right now. He doesn’t know if he even needs to worry about his cock to get himself off, if Tim’s gonna keep acting like this about everything.

“Pet,” Tim rasps, sliding a hand over the back of Kon’s neck and splaying his fingers across it. “Do you want to come like this? Do you like it?”

Kon would actually have to pull back to say anything in answer to that question, obviously, but he really doesn’t want to. He makes the most eager, encouraging noise he can figure out how to with his mouth full and swallows Tim down to the root and swallows around him, and Tim chokes roughly and knocks his head back against the headboard again.

Kon still can’t get over the fact that Tim doing that means he’s leaning back against his jacket.

Tim’s hips roll up into his mouth, stuttering and barely-controlled, but still gentle. Still careful. Still–

Tim’s fingers curl in Kon’s hair, and Kon’s whole fucking brain shorts out and he comes into the sheets with a choked, gasping moan, and has no idea why having Tim’s cock filling up his mouth for it feels so good. It all feels so good, though, and he doesn’t really . . . he’s not . . .

“Shit, Kon, did you just–” Bernard starts while Kon’s still shuddering his way through it and kind of forgetting how to think, sounding delighted, and–

“Fuck!” Tim groans, and comes too.

Comes in Kon’s mouth. Because of him. Because of how he’s touching him and how he’s using his mouth and how he’s being good for him.

Kon whines around his mouthful of cock and lets Tim ride out his orgasm completely before he lets his cock slip out of his throat and wipes the spit off his face. Tim is panting.

Kon . . . nuzzles him.

His dick, he means. He nuzzles that.

“Jesus fucking fuck, Kon, I . . .” Tim trails off with a groan, putting a hand over his eyes. Bernard was very right about how good he looks after coming. Like, if anything, he undersold it. Kon presses a careful little kiss against the root of Tim’s softening cock before nuzzling it again, feeling blurry and buzzed and so, so good. He doesn’t want to stop. He wants to make Tim come until the other kicks him off, and then he wants to see if making Bernard come will feel even half this good.

He bets he could make sure it would, he thinks, and licks his lips.

Tim groans.

“Maybe I should’ve told Supergirl to expect you next Monday,” Bernard says, openly staring. Kon still feels too buzzed to properly preen under the attention, but it makes him feel warm anyway.

“Mmmkay,” he hums, feeling just a little . . . floaty, maybe. Like, in a good way, just . . . floaty, yeah. “Whenever y'want. Just keep me 'til y'get bored or whatever.”

“I dunno, dude, you already said you weren't the marrying kind,” Bernard says wryly, reaching out to pet his hair again.

Kon feels warm.

“Mmmmm, alright, then just tell me when you need that party favor for your bachelor party, 'kay?” he murmurs, nuzzling into Bernard’s hand with a little shiver before returning his attention to Tim’s cock. “Bet Superman'll gimme pink K for that.”

“Ngh,” Tim says.

Kon’s kinda starting to like that sound, he thinks.

He kisses the base of Tim’s cock again, then lifts his head to drag his tongue over the tip, where his come is trapped inside the condom. Wonders what Tim’s refractory period is like. Wonders if–

“Stop,” Tim rasps, and Kon would feel disappointed, but being good for Tim is just as good as getting him off. “Just–c’mere, pet. Head in my lap, and roll over on your back.”

Kon doesn’t know why Tim wants him to do that, but he’s not really worried about it. Tim always has the best ideas, after all. So he shifts up a bit as Tim strips off the condom and tosses it before tucking his cock away again, which seems like a shame, and then Kon rolls over and ends up stretched out across the bed with his head in Tim’s lap, just like he asked. Tim wraps his arms around him, which is nice, and smoothes his hands down his chest.

“Color?” Tim asks. Kon doesn’t understand what he’s–oh, right.

“Green,” he hums contentedly, pressing up into Tim’s hands and tipping his head back against Tim’s stomach. Tim sighs. He sounds a little relieved, for some reason. Kon’s not sure why. There’s no way he’d be anything but green right now.

“Good,” Tim says. “Bernard, can you grab the–oh, thanks. Pet, Bernard’s going to clean you up a little, alright?”

Kon wonders what Tim wanted, but then Bernard’s leaning over him and it doesn’t seem important anymore, so he just hums again and lets his eyes half-close as he hears a little ripping sound and then Bernard is running a wet wipe over the mess of come he got all over himself.

He’d be embarrassed that he wasn’t handling his own mess, maybe, but it feels nice. He was kind of sticky, he guesses, especially after coming in the sheets while grinding in them. So . . . the bed’s also kind of sticky, he guesses. And he’s pretty sure he’s still at least halfway lying in his own come, considering.

He doesn’t really care. Tim’s hands are on his chest and Bernard’s being nice enough to clean him up and he just feels warm and good and like he’s being good and . . . and it’s nice. Really nice.

So yeah, he doesn’t care.

Actually, he doesn’t care about much of anything right now, except for how nice this is.

“Good boy,” Tim says, smoothing one of his hands up Kon’s chest and throat and then stroking his hair again. Kon feels even nicer, and hums softly in response. He assumes Tim wants a response, anyway. Probably. Maybe. “How do you feel, pet?”

“M’good,” Kon sighs contentedly, though he only bothers with saying anything at all because he wants to be good for him. It feels really good and really nice and Tim is just . . . he really likes this. So much.

He never gets treated this nice. Or at least, hasn’t in a really long time.

Well . . . he hasn’t been dating much, he guesses, so . . . like really, he’s pretty sure the last time he went out with anybody was before Tim and Bernard even started dating, so . . .

. . . actually, huh. It was, wasn’t it.

Kon frowns, very briefly, and thinks . . . did he actually . . . stop dating people right when Tim got a boyfriend? Like . . . what, as an actual triggering event? Why would he . . . ?

“I cannot believe how good you are at being good for me,” Tim mutters, stroking his hair again, and Kon forgets what he was thinking about and tips his head back again to peer up at him as Bernard tosses out the used wet wipe with a snigger. “Shut up, Bernard, you don’t know how many goddamn problems this could’ve solved for Young Justice back in the day. You have no idea.”

“Oh, could it have, babe?” Bernard asks, and cackles. Tim scowls at him. Kon . . . Kon has some slightly inappropriate thoughts about the idea of Tim ordering him around in the Robin suit in possibly inappropriate ways and places and times back in the day and . . . and, uh . . .

“Yeah, guess that would’ve been a good way to shut me up when I got too mouthy, huh?” he tries to joke, feeling a little–weird, maybe, and Tim’s fingers curl gently behind his ears.

“I was more thinking the team would've had a mutually enjoyable way to reward you for good behavior,” he replies matter-of-factly.

“. . . oh,” Kon manages, and feels his face burn. And then he has a lot more thoughts that are a lot more inappropriate about . . . about maybe just . . . about what that might’ve been like, maybe, if he’d been good and earned a reward for “good behavior” and then Tim had–Robin, because they hadn’t even known his name then, actually–and then Robin had just . . . let him be good for everybody else too, maybe. Like, they’d had enough of those team sleepovers, they could’ve just . . .

He’d have been so good, he thinks. He’d have taken care of all the girls just how they wanted and done anything Robin told him to and–well, maybe it would’ve been a little weird with Bart, he’s not sure how that would’ve worked, but Robin could’ve just told him what to do, again, and . . .

Like–he could’ve, that’s all.

Kon’s pretty sure he could’ve done that without the pink kryptonite, if he was just, like–doing what Robin told him to do for Cissie or Cassie or “Suzie”. Like . . . even if it might’ve been a little weird and he couldn’t have gotten to touch him, that would’ve been . . .

That’s just–a thought, kind of.

Well, he guesses his next sex dream’s gonna involve getting to play the starring role in a team gangbang. Good to know, he guesses.

Or mortifying, maybe. But . . .

“Real missed opportunity, there,” Tim says, and Kon bites his lip to repress the urge to squirm. He thinks about the idea of Robin telling him how to kiss Suzie or go down on Cissie or fuck Cassie, and it’s . . .

Fuck, it’s a thought, isn’t it.

He wonders if Robin would’ve told him what to do for Bart, too. Like–if that would’ve been a thing, if it’d ever come up. He wonders how that would’ve felt. Just . . . doing whatever Robin told him to, pink kryptonite or not, and . . .

That is a very weird thought, Kon recognizes, and then Bernard leans forward a little and he remembers–shit, Bernard’s been waiting all this time, he needs to–

Tim strokes a hand through his hair, and Kon–hesitates. Settles, slowly. Bernard grins at Tim, and Tim smiles back at him. Kon watches them.

He likes how they look at each other. He’s never gotten to see it, except in the sense of seeing Tim smile at his phone sometimes when he’s texting Bernard. Finally seeing Bernard’s half of the equation is . . . affecting, kind of.

And really nice.

Tim deserves to get a grin like that directed at him, so–yeah. Definitely nice, Kon thinks, and settles a little more.

“Pet,” Tim murmurs, his voice all soft and gentle as he strokes Kon’s collarbones. “Do you want to stay in my lap like this while Bernard gets you ready for our cocks? Does that sound nice?”

Kon nearly bites his tongue.

“Yeah,” he manages to croak, reaching up to wrap his hands around Tim’s wrists and half-reflexively spreading his thighs as he does. “I–yeah. That sounds–yeah, I wanna do that.”

He really wants to do that, actually.

“Fuck,” Tim and Bernard mutter in unison. Kon would laugh, but the way they both say it is just really, really fucking flattering.

#wip: think pink #timberkon

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

Text

Apothecary - Chapter Four

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

questions are answered and truths are revealed. and they both cross lines they won't be coming back from.

warnings | 18+ canon-typical violence, angst, canon-typical descriptions of gore, smut (shhhh don't tell anyone) annnd spooky times, of course

a/n | y'all fucking rock for loving and supporting this series so much <3 my inbox is always open and i love to hear your thoughts about it. also i should mention this chapter is just a little bit longer, so get comfy before reading :)

..................................

The sun is only just rising when she sees him out of her house. Joel finds himself squinting in the faint morning light as he steps out on her porch, his eyes bleary from a night without sleep.

“We’ll talk more later, right?” She leans against the doorframe, arms crossed as she asks him. He can see the worry lining her furrowed expression and he impulsively ducks his head to press a quick kiss to her lips, wanting to smooth out any uncertainty in her.

“Tonight, after my shift. Can I come by then?” Her expression eases into a smile and she nods, untucking her hand from where it was crossed under her arm to offer him a small tin– of what, he isn’t sure.

“Salve made with comfrey root. For pain and swelling in those knuckles of yours.” Joel is starting to accept that knowing her is being constantly surprised by her, so he just nods and mumbles a soft thank you, taking the tin from her with his hand that isn’t all bandaged up.

“I’ll see you tonight, Joel.”

“I’ll be here, darlin.” He’s still getting used to it, being able to reach for her and her reaching back, so his motions are a bit disjointed when he shuffles closer in search of another kiss. She makes it easier, though, bringing a hand to his jaw, a steady guide drawing him in. His nose barely brushes against hers when he jerks away in a flash, biting back a yelp as something brushes up against his ankles. He can tell that she’s holding back a laugh as she smoothly scoops Stevie up in her arms, the feline nuzzling up against her chin immediately.

“I think someone might be a little jealous.” Joel finds himself mirroring her easy smile, shaking his head before leaning in to steal that kiss he had been set on. It’s a quick little thing, Stevie letting out an indignant meow between them as he pulls away.

“You better go before Tommy comes looking for you.” One more look, one more smile, it feels like pulling away from a magnet as he leaves. He moves through town not fully there, his mind swirling with everything she told him last night. But the haze he finds himself walking through quickly clears when he makes it to the gate, finding his brother talking to Mason, who is clearly wound up judging by the way he’s in Tommy’s face. As Joel gets closer, Tommy’s eyes dart over Mason’s shoulder to him, prompting the man to turn around, revealing a clearly broken nose. Mason scoffs, looking once between Tommy and Joel before storming past them.

“Got something you wanna tell me, brother?” Tommy cocks an eyebrow at him, eyes glancing down to Joel’s bandaged hand before settling back on his face.

“He got what he deserved.” Tommy snorts at that, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, I know. It’s the talk of the town. Joel Miller went where no man has gone before– the witch’s lair.” He knows his brother is joking by the way he can barely get the words out behind a laugh, but Joel is having a hard time finding it amusing, huffing as he shoulders past Tommy, heading toward the stables to mount up and head out.

He and Tommy work well together, always have, and today is no different as they ride out for patrol, but what is normally a comforting quiet only gives Joel more time to stew over her dizzying story.

As far back as we could trace it– we’ve always been like this.

It’s energetic, really. Where others are closed, we’re open wide.

I see the world in threads. Everything is tied together. What I do– what people call magic– is pulling on those threads.

He knows that he still doesn’t fully understand, but he reckons that she doesn’t fully understand either. What she could tell him, she did.

She told him about growing up in Wyoming with her mother, how she first told her about these abilities when she caught her talking to a bird, and it seemed to be talking back.

She told him how her mother was both revered and repelled in their small town, much the same way she is in Jackson.

She told him that her mother had a vision the summer before everything fell apart, and took her out of her senior year of high school and up into the mountains to hide away while the world crumbled.

She told him how they lived well like that for many years, until her mother had another one of her visions behind now milky eyes. A vision that it was time to go.

She told him about the night before they were planning to leave, raiders coming in the dark and a stray bullet finding a home between her mother’s ribs. She wandered on her own for weeks, willing death to rejoin her with her family, but was instead found by Maria and one of the Jackson patrol groups.

She told him about her time in Jackson. The people she helped. The lives she got tangled up with. And the men whom she always kept at a distance, beacons of grief and reminders of what people really thought of her.

She spoke as if in a trance, her eyes and voice unwavering save for the shuddering breaths she took between words. And when she finished, Joel had risen from his seat and coaxed her up with him, pressing her close in his arms until the shake in her shoulders steadied.

He’s gotten the truth now, and he spins it over and over in his mind, his thoughts flitting up into the thin mountain air.

…

She’s being followed. Has been since she set out on her rounds this morning, paying house visits to folks in Jackson that need her care. Stevie lets out a sour hiss from her place tucked in her satchel, and she chances a glance over her shoulder. Sure enough, the black dog is following behind her at a close but respectable distance. If it hadn’t been going on since she left her house this morning, she probably wouldn’t even notice. But it had been sitting right next to her mailbox, head tilted at her as she stepped down from her porch, and she knew then that this wasn’t just a random visitor. It was an omen.

“Go on, get!” She waves her arm behind her, uselessly trying to shoo the dog away, who only looks at her with that same head tilt.

Four other times this had happened.

The first time, it had been an inky black crow, squawking and hopping along from house to house, trailing behind her. They brought him back that night, slung over the back of one of the horses, a smear of bullet wounds in his back.

The second time, it had been a rat that skittered along fence posts and wove between people’s feet. He didn’t even make it out of the gates that morning, trampled to death by a newly-trained horse.

The third time, it had been a beetle, a creature certainly not indigenous to Wyoming. She kept picking it up in a glass jar and taking it outside, but everytime, it found its way back into her shop. A freak accident, people said, for someone so young to have a heart attack so suddenly.

The fourth time, it had been a black dog, the same black dog following her today, though it’s now much grayer in the face. They didn’t even bring his body back that time, not after he was infected.

Finishing her last house call, she jerkily makes her way toward her shop, trying to ignore the icy prickle shivering up her spine at the sound of paws padding behind her. She’s trying not to look like a freak, but judging by the glances people are giving her as she walks through town, she isn’t doing a very good job of hiding her mounting panic.

“I said go away.”

“Woah, I thought you told me you needed my help today, but I can go I guess.” She whips around from where she had been scolding the mutt at the sound of Ellie’s voice, finding her waiting in front of the store.

“I’m sorry, Ellie. I wasn’t talking to you, I was– well, I was–” She motions vaguely behind her to the dog that has now sat on its haunches, panting lightly and looking at them. Ellie, however, is entirely unbothered by the animal, walking right over to it and crouching down to pat its scruffy head. The sight makes her feel a bit sick, knowing exactly what the presence of this animal means.

“C-c’mon, that thing probably has fleas. Let’s go inside and get to work, alright?” Ellie smiles up at her, nodding with a sigh as she walks over to where she is unlocking the door to the shop. She keeps her eye on the dog over Ellie’s shoulder, even as she opens the door and motions for the girl to go inside.

“You’re acting– weird.” She mutters something about not sleeping well, and although Ellie doesn’t seem to buy that, she shuffles inside. Before she follows after Ellie, she sets her satchel down just inside the door, Stevie stepping out and running to the back of the shop in search of the girl. She turns around to face the dog who has now inched closer to her, and does the only thing she can think to do.

The people of Jackson got quite the show that afternoon as she chased the scruffy mutt, her arms waving and muttered curses loosing from her lips, as far away from her shop as she could.

“You stay. Do you hear me? He’s coming back– h-he is.” With a final huff, she turns on her heel, stomping a direct path back to the shop and slamming the door behind her, Stevie’s and Ellie’s heads whipping up at her blustery entrance. She just huffs at their wide-eyed stares, her shoulders slumping when she glances back through the shop door window and sees that damn dog sitting on the stoop, head eternally tilted.

…

It’s been a slow day of patrol. They rode up around the dam, relieved to not find any raiders, a seemingly perpetual nuisance. It must be late in the afternoon when they decide to start heading back through the thickening woods.

“So, you two are really making a go of it, huh?” Joel glances over at Tommy, grunting at his brother’s prying question.

“Suppose we are.” Tommy chuckles.

“You never did take any of my advice. Good luck, brother. But please, try not to make a habit out of busting people’s faces for her.” It’s meant in jest, but Joel shoots him a hard look from atop his horse.

“You would’ve done the same if you had seen what he did to her.” When Tommy’s brow furrows, Joel lets out a bitter laugh.

“What? Did Mason leave out that detail? I watched that fucker slam her head against a wall, Tommy. If I hadn’t stopped him, he would’ve done much worse.” Tommy mutters a low jesus christ under his breath, shaking his head at Joel’s words.

“Fuck, Joel– I’ll talk to Maria about this–”

“Don’t. Asshole like that– best to just let it go. I think I made my point. But if he tries anything again, I won’t hesitate, Tommy. I just won’t.” Tommy offers him a faint nod, both of them settling back into silence as they continue riding.

It happens in a flash. Someone– or something– comes bounding out of the trees, spooking Joel’s horse enough that he gets thrown right off. He groans, scrambling to get to his feet as Tommy wheels around, but before Joel can get his bearings, he’s tackled back down to the ground.

Snapping teeth and garbled shrieks, a disorienting mix as he struggles to push the clicker off of him. He can’t hear anything else, no clue if Tommy is alright, if they have any shot of making it out of this alive. All he can do is flail on the ground with this snarling creature, his bare hands doing little to repel its staggering force.

A cool fear starts to trickle in. A fear that this might be the time he doesn’t make it back.

…

She’s watching the clock, face scrunched into a permanent scowl of worry. The beds of her nails had all been picked raw several hours ago, and she had only stopped when they started to bleed. In her spiraling state, she had sent Ellie off early, not wanting to draw any more attention to her obvious anxiety. Stevie sits in the storefront window, hissing and clawing at the dog who has now laid down in front of the store.

It isn’t her fault. She tells herself this, over and over. She knows that it isn’t her fault. That it hadn’t ever been her fault, not now and not before. Deep down, she knows this, but the nagging voices of Jackson, and what people believe contrarily, seeps in around the edges of her mind, a sour poison that settles thick in her thoughts. And she braces herself for the worst, a full body tensing, waiting for the news to come.

Five o’clock. He should’ve been back an hour ago. But just as the clock rolls over into the new hour, Stevie stops hissing altogether. She gets up from her stool behind the old checkout counter, craning her neck to look out the window, but finds no sign of the dog that had been following her all day.

She moves before she thinks, leaving the door to the shop ajar as she stumbles out and starts walking briskly toward the town’s gate. When she rounds the corner and the gate comes into her line of sight, the slow creaking of its opening resounding in her bones, her feet kick up into a stilted jog. It barely registers to her that she’s crying, the cool slip of it running down her cheeks. When she only sees Tommy riding in, she stops in her tracks, heart stuttering still in her chest. But she breaks into a sprint when Joel comes into sight, riding in just behind his brother.

She lets out a yelp of his name, his head jerking up at the sound. A sob breaks in her ribs when his eyes meet hers, and he’s quick to slip down off his horse, taking a few tentative steps forward before she’s crashing right into him.

A hard breath is pushed out of him as he stumbles back a few paces, his arms wrapping firm around her as she presses her face into his chest, her hands clinging to the fabric of his shirt. When she finally pulls away, she brings her hands to his jaw, holding his face still as her eyes search his.

“Are you– are you ok?” He nods, clearly caught off guard by her frenzied greeting.

“I am, but– how did you– I mean, I’m fine. Just a little bruised. But I’ll live.” His words make a laugh bubble up in her throat, and when she lets it loose he really does look at her like she’s gone crazy.

“The dog was wrong–” She lets out another bright laugh.

“The dog was wrong!” His brow creases in even greater confusion.

“What dog? What’re you talk–” She cuts him off with a hard kiss, a smooch really, the kind that would make a cartoon character’s head explode in a shower of confetti hearts. But Joel’s blush when she pulls away with a sweet smack accomplishes much the same effect.

“I am so glad you’re back.”

…

“Damn, is this soup magic? Because it’s way better than anything Joel cooks.”

“Kid.” Ellie looks up at him from where she’s all but face-planted into her bowl of soup, shrugging at his scolding. She takes it in stride, though, laughing at Ellie’s exclamation.

“Not magic– but I’m glad you like it.” It’s a strange sight, her sitting at his kitchen table. It had been even stranger watching her flit around his kitchen, cooking for him and Ellie like she had done it hundreds of times before. But she had insisted after he told her what happened on patrol, not letting him get another word in edgewise as she led him first to her shop to pick up Stevie and that satchel of hers, and then to his house where she had immediately gotten to work with whatever odds and ends she could find in his fridge. Joel would never protest at the promise of a hot meal that he didn’t have to make, and he has to admit that the kid is right, the soup is really fucking good.

The rest of their meal passes quietly, the continuous purrs of Stevie sitting in Ellie’s lap being interrupted only when Ellie finishes her bowl with a contented groan.

“That was so fucking good, seriously. Can you come over more often? Because Joel’s idea of cooking is opening a can of really old chef boyardee beef–”

“Kid.” Joel is entirely mortified, but once again, Ellie just huffs, coaxing Stevie off her lap and standing up to take her bowl to the sink, glancing at them over her shoulder.

“What? It’s true. Anyways, I gotta run– Dina and I are going to movie night together.” Ellie wiggles her eyebrows as she leans back against the sink, but before Joel can even tell her to be safe, she’s already bounding through the house and out the front door with a loud “don’t wait up!” All he can do is slump back in his chair with a huff.

“That nudge you gave Ellie is going to send me to an early grave.” She snorts at that, sitting back in her own chair across from him and crossing her arms over her chest.

“I think it’s sweet– a little young love could do this world some good.” With that, she gets up, grabbing her own bowl as well as his and heading over to the sink. He goes to get up, protesting at her cleaning up after them, but finds himself sitting back down with a wince that catches her attention.

“You feeling alright?”

“I mean– no. Feel like I got thrown off a horse, probably because I did.” She offers him a small smile, tilting her head.

“Let me get this cleaned up, huh? I think I can help with that.”

Just a little while later, when she has him lead her up into his bathroom, Joel reckons that her idea of helping may give him a heart attack.

“Do you like the water really really hot, or just warm?” He has to clear his throat and pull his eyes away from the soft curve of her jeans where she’s bent over the tub, fiddling with the faucet, before he can answer.

“Um, I don’t– I don’t know. I guess I’ve never actually used this thing.” She whips around at that, brow furrowed.

“You’re kidding, right? You have this super nice tub, and you’ve never used it?” When all he does is shrug, she sighs.

“Well, I’ll just have to show you what you’re missing out on then. Can you go grab my bag? I left it right next to the stairs.” He pads out into the hallway, finding her satchel slung over the top of the railing of the stairs just as Stevie comes slinking up the steps.

“She asked me to get her bag for– Jesus christ, I’m talking to a cat.” He swipes a palm down his face, letting out a long sigh, only slightly shocked when Stevie lets out an inquisitive mrrp that sounds a whole lot like a response.

“You stay, alright? Go– be creepy somewhere else.” At that, Stevie lets out an indignant mroowww, tilting her head at him. It’s certainly a first for him, having a staredown with a cat, but he assumes he wins when Stevie turns away with another little mrrp, padding silently back down the steps.

When he reenters the bathroom, a haze of steam has filled up the room, and she’s sitting on the edge of the tub, checking the temperature of the water with her hand.

“There you are, thanks for grabbing that. You didn’t happen to see Stevie out there, did you?”

“Hmm? Oh, um, no, I didn’t. “ Luckily, she buys his answer, shaking her head with a light laugh as she takes her bag from him.

“Probably slinked off to find some trouble for the night. Anyways, let me finish getting this ready for you.” She pulls out a cloth sack from her satchel, digging her hand in and sprinkling what looks like salt over the bath. Before he can even ask, she explains it to him with a smile.

“Epsom salt. There’s a lake up in the mountains that dries out every summer and there’s always tons of this stuff on the lakebed. Mixed with a little lavender and chamomile to calm down inflammation.” He speaks before he can really think about it, feeling like a fool the instant the words leave his mouth.

“You’re amazing, d’you know that?” She laughs, keeping her eyes turned down as she swirls the water a few times with her hand before standing up to look at him.

“It should be all set. I recommend staying in there for at least a half hour, but really, if you can soak for more like an hour that’d be best.” She’s moving and talking so fast, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading for the door, that Joel can barely stutter out his response, the flush creeping up his neck only burning brighter when he does.

“Wait– I thought you– um, I thought– would you– stay?” Fucking hell, just bury me now, why don’t you? Her eyes widen first, but then soften as a grin crooks across her lips.

“Joel Miller, are you asking me to join you?”

“Only if you’d say yes.” Her grin broadens, beautiful and blinding.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

…

She realizes a bit too late that she’s nervous, her fingers trembling at the button of her jeans as they both silently undress. Her ears prick to the sound of a belt buckle clinking, the clean sweep of leather being pulled out of belt loops, followed by the quick thrum of a zipper. But she doesn’t look at him, not yet, to save what little nerve she still has worked up.

And then, when they’re both standing in a puddle of clothes, she wills her eyes to peel away from the tiled floor. She sees him in fragments, darting glances over sun-faded skin and soft strength, a thatch of dark curls that she tries not to stare at for too long. She finally looks at his face, and sees that he’s doing much the same, darkened eyes collecting her. She lets him.

“We should, um, we should get in– before the water gets cold.” She mentally kicks herself for the wobble in her voice, but Joel doesn’t seem to notice. In fact, he doesn’t seem to notice at all, his eyes still roaming over her. She says his name, and his focus snaps back to attention.

“Um, right– I’ll just–” There’s nothing graceful about Joel Miller getting into a bathtub, and that’s how she knows she’s really taken with him, because somehow she still finds it endearing. And she just about swoons when he holds a hand out to her over the lip of the tub.

She doesn’t let herself think too hard about it, sinking into the warm water, her back facing him as she sits down between his legs. A careful hand slips over her hip, causing her to peer over her shoulder at him.

“This ok?” She hums her affirmation, letting him guide her back until she’s pressed up against the warmth of his chest. His palm skates over the top of her thigh, arcing out of the water to rest on top of her bent knee.

“Just relax, darlin.” “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s supposed to be relaxing.” She feels the vibration of his hummed response running up her spine, and it coaxes her to slump further against him, her head resting back on his shoulder.

“Oh, I am, believe me.” She laughs at that, though it fizzles out when his hand dips back down under the water, fingers curling at the crux of her thigh.

“Can I ask you something?” She’s a little too distracted by the way his thumb is rubbing circles into the soft inside of her thigh to be embarrassed by the breathy uh-huh she responds with.

“Heard a rumor about you from some of the women in town.” That makes her stiffen in his hold, only melting a little when he presses a sweet kiss to the side of her neck.

“I bet you heard a lot of rumors from them.” He hums again, low and gravelly.

“I did– but I really wanna know if this one is true.” She tilts her chin up, neck crooking to look at him and the faint smirk he’s sporting.

“They said they’ve seen you out in the middle of the night, dancing naked in your backyard.” Water splashes up against the sides of the tub as she laughs, squawks really, at his words, quickly turning in his hold and tangling her hands behind his neck. She can feel him, warm and hard, resting along her thigh as she straddles him, and she revels in the pretty flush that spreads across his cheeks. She’s got Joel Miller flustered, and she likes it. Taking him for all he’s worth, she leans in, letting her lips trace the shell of his ear as she speaks.

“Only on Halloween, baby.” His fingers grip a little tighter along the plush of her hips, and she has to giggle at the spluttering exhale he lets out.

“Jesus christ– are you serious?” She sighs, tilting her head at him as she tugs lightly at the curls at the nape of his neck.

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, huh?” He swallows her laugh, lips finally slotting with hers, his palm trailing up her spine to press her closer, and it’s right then that she realizes how badly she had been jonesing for a kiss from him. This one is different than any they’ve shared before. It’s a kiss that takes its time, a slow exploration punctuated by murmuring sighs and wandering hands. She finds that he’s a stubborn kisser, always trying to get the upper hand, his tongue swiping across her lip before licking into her mouth. But she doesn’t let him have it for long, her teeth grazing his bottom lip, reveling in the little groan he lets out and using it to her advantage as she presses closer to him, the peaked slopes of her nipples dragging across his chest.

He shifts his hips down and away from the back of the tub, giving her space to wrap her legs around his waist, ankles grazing his low back and she thinks briefly that his bathroom is going to be a mess, water sloshing out over the sides of the tub with their increasingly frantic movements. Though she doesn’t have much time to worry about it when he ducks his head down, pressing a sweet kiss to her sternum that is starkly contrasted by the subsequent drag of his lips over one of her breasts, teeth grazing over her nipple before he laves his tongue over the bud. She lets out a gasp of his name when he sucks the delicate skin into his mouth, no longer trying to hold back the grind of her hips into the coarse hair covering his pelvis, his cock brushing up against her ass with the movement. Seemingly satisfied with his ministrations, he pulls away with a sweet little pop, his eyes impossibly darker as he looks at her.

“Want you, darlin, so bad. Can I– fuck– can I have you?” Afraid of what her voice might sound like, her response to him is another bruising kiss, tugging just a tad unkindly on his hair as she shifts her hips back, both of them groaning when her cunt grazes the underside of his cock.

“Want you too, Joel, please.” She doesn’t care that it comes out like a whine, too preoccupied with chasing the pleasure of his cock rutting against where she wants him most. But she stills when Joel places a firm hand to her hip, her brow furrowing at him.

“We’re not doing this in a fucking bathtub, not the first time.” She splutters out a laugh at his very serious expression, but she realizes he’s not kidding when he gently untangles her legs from around him, tugging her up along with him, water going everywhere as they step out of the tub in a slipping tangle of limbs. She’s finding that she can’t get enough of him, stealing whatever kisses she can get as he pulls her into the bedroom, her lips dragging down the column of his throat and over the top of his chest. And then a quick blur and breathy oof from Joel has them tumbling back onto his bed, her palms splaying out over his chest as she straddles his hips. They don’t stay like that for long though, Joel squeezing her ass and rolling them over in a surprisingly smooth move, slotting himself between her spread thighs.

All of a sudden, things start to move slower, thicker, as he drags a palm down her torso, flipping his wrist around when he reaches her pelvis and cupping her heat in a flat press. She cants her hips into his hold, sighing at the firm grind of the heel of his palm over her clit. And while it feels good, it isn’t what she really wants.

“Joel– don’t tease. I just, fuck– just want you.” He grins, the bastard, shifting his hand to dip two of his fingers against her entrance, the stretch sweet and stinging when he pushes in.

“Not gonna tease you, darlin. Just wanna get you ready f’me. Fuck– you’re driving me crazy.” She knows that he’s not just being arrogant, having gotten a good look, and feel, of his cock, but the steady rhythm of his fingers pumping inside of her is only making her want him more.

“Please, please– I’m ready, I swear. Just, fucking–” He shushes her with a quick kiss, and by giving her what she wants, moving his hand away and hovering over her, the heavy heat of his cock resting against the apex of her thighs.

It’s all quiet communication. He draws one palm along the outside of her thigh, coaxing her leg up, her knee resting against his waist as she opens up even more for him. She drags her hands down his chest, the soft pudge of his belly, before hooking them under and around to press into the shuddering muscles of his back. It’s a languid motion, her hips tilting up to meet his rolling forward, both of them letting out broken sighs as he fills her completely.

“Fucking– s’perfect- you’re perfect– I can’t– I– christ.” He breathes out a hard exhale, resting his forehead against her sternum, hips still flush with hers. She presses a smattering of kisses to his hairline, coaxing him to look up at her.

“Don’t think christ has anything to do with it, baby.” His chuckle at her smug words turns into a low groan when she flutters around him, both of them going a little sick with the pleasure of it all.

“Can I move, darlin? Shit– I’m not gonna last like this– feels too fucking good.” All he needs is her jerky nod for him to arc his hips away before snapping back, deep and slow, finding a push and pull that has them both sighing with each thrust. It feels like he’s everywhere, his mouth open and hot across her chest, his damp hair tickling the skin over her collarbone, his murmuring groans mixing with each of her sighs, and his throbbing length, every inch of him spreading her open again and again and again. She has half a mind to be embarrassed by how quickly she’s tipping over the edge of pleasure, but she doesn’t care, not when Joel is coaxing her into it with low drawling praises.

“That’s it, honey– so good like this– so beautiful– shit– come for me, please– need to– need to feel you–” He brings a trembling hand down over her pelvis, deft fingers drawing circles over her clit and it becomes too much all at once, his name leaving her lips in a quiet cry as she falls apart around him. He fucks her through it, his pace slowing into more of a deep grind that jostles them further up the bed with each stroke. All she can do is hold on, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades, her hitched heel pressing into his low back as he chases after his own high. She pieces herself together enough to drag her hand through his hair, pulling his face down so she can murmur in his ear.

“Want it so bad, Joel– please, baby– wanna see you come for me– let me see you– let me have it.” He groans out her name, sounding more like pain than pleasure as he pulls away, leaning back on his haunches to sloppily stroke his glistening cock. She moves in a haze of desire, scrambling onto her hands and knees, her face coming level with his flushed length as she drops her jaw and sticks her tongue out, spit pooling from want as she looks up at him through her lashes.

She watches him closely as he comes with a slur of curses, breathless as the salt of his spend spurts onto her tongue, smudging across her lips and dripping down her chin. His shoulders slump, chest heaving as he runs a trembling hand through his hair, eyes not leaving hers as she sits back and swipes up the stray come on her skin, sucking her fingers into her mouth with a low hum. She’d never call that taste appealing, but the fact that it came from him, a sign of his pleasure which she had been sovereign over, sends a shiver up her spine as she swirls her tongue over her fingers.

…

She’s trying to kill him, she has to be, with her little smile and the lewd pop of her fingers leaving her mouth.

“You’re fucking unreal, goddamn.” She laughs at his exclamation and he swallows the sound, pulling her in for a kiss, his mind going fuzzy at the taste of what he assumes is himself on her lips. Even though he feels like he just ran a marathon, he can’t help but deepen the kiss, their mouths molding and moving as they lay down in a close tangle.

When they do pull away from each other, it’s with a shared sigh, and she rests her cheek on his chest, right where he knows she can hear his racing heart. She presses a kiss to that spot before tilting her chin up to look at him.

“I’m really glad you came back today, Joel.” His brow furrows, thinking back to earlier and the strange things she had said, her frantic greeting, and the relief that had been clear in her eyes. Another piece of her that he doesn’t quite understand. But he’s ok with that, with not knowing everything about her, at least not yet. She’s already unfurled so much of her life for him, and he’s prepared to wait patiently for whatever else she’ll offer him. As long as he gets to have her like this, warm and soft, keening into his touch, eyes hooded with a shared pleasure.

No other words are needed, not right now. He coaxes her chin up with a gentle press of his fingers, stealing one more kiss before they both settle down in each other’s arms.

................................

taglist (i added some folks i thought would like to be, let me know if you want added or dropped lmao) : @boofy1998 @misspascaliverse @jasminedragoon @beskarandblasters @daddy-din @subconsciouscollapse @avidreader73 @pedgeitopascal @littlelou22 @wannab-urs @hannahlupinblack @whoiscaroline @leeeesahhh

#apothecary #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller series #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #joel miller smut

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anonymooseforever007 · 1 year

Text

Ring Around the Roses

(Alfie Solomons x female reader)

Summary: Attempting to get away from the Shelby party chaos, Alfie and his wife sneak off into Tommy's garden for a little fun. It isn't until the next morning they discover the consequences of their actions and Alfie has to remind his wife what their marriage is really about.

A/N-Hi Y'all! Possible TW's for only the end of this include Mentions of death, Unhealthy coping habits and self blame! Also this is for K's (@runnning-outof-time) 3K celebration! Congratulations you're amazing and I love seeing you on here❤️❤️❤️ I hope you like this! I haven't done a celebration before really but I saw your theme and the idea spring into my head. Despite the warnings it's mostly fluffy until the time skip! Also there's one part that implies smut but none actually written! Enjoy ❤️

WC- 6.6k

Main Masterlist

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"Are you sure we can do this out here?"

"Do what dovey? I'm just taking a nice little stroll with my darling wife aren't I? Letting her get a quiet break from all those heathens inside."

You scoffed, knocking into your husband's side gently as the pair of you walked through the garden. For a man who seemed particularly fond of dark colours, Thomas Shelby's garden was particularly vibrant.

"Oh hush, you only call them heathens because you're too scared to use the word friend."

"FRIEND!" Alfie scoffed while kicking at a particularly beautifully tulip that just happened to be nearby, just to prove his point. "No no no Dovey, THEY are not my friends, yeah. If I were to pick anyone to be my friend it certainly would not be ANY of them."

You only rolled your eyes and shot a knowing smirk in his direction. For all your husband's spite and trickery, you knew he really did have a soft spot for the Shelby family.

"Alright love, I believe ya. That's absolutely why you immediately declined the invitation to come here tonight isn't it. Burned it in the fireplace correct? Told me not to put it in the calendar? Because you don't have plans at being anything other than vicious enemies is that right? The pie I brought tonight was a death threat wasn't it? Did you slip in some arsenic into the powdered sugar?"

Rolling his eyes at your teasing, Alfie couldn't help but smile as he watched you laugh at your own joke. Continuing your path through the garden you mindlessly reached back a hand for your husband a few steps behind. A clear indication of what you wanted. What you always wanted. Slipping his hand between yours, he let you drag him through the bushes, further from the party. With each step he could see you relax a bit more, as you enjoyed the scene around you.

"Is it quieter out here Dovey?"

Smiling softly, you only nodded your head before reaching out gently to touch the leaves of a nearby bush. Though the party was fun, it had gotten a bit loud and in the growing chaos you needed some air. So while Tommy and Polly were distracted trying to convince Arthur and Finn not to throw Michael in the lake, you and your husband had slipped outside.

"Alfie, we should plant a garden of our own I think."

"Is that right Dovey? Does my lady want some bushes of her own to trim doesn't she?"

"I think we could get some nice rose bushes. I've always loved those."

"Roses, is that it? You got a feeling about those prickly little parasites don't ya Dovey? I never got why you liked them."

Chuckling you sat on the edge of a nearby wall as your husband dug his feet in the ground. You knew exactly why Alfred hated roses, and it still amused you to this day.

It happened years ago, around the time you'd first gotten together. This was before Alfie was even able to grow a beard, and all his kisses resulted in a scratchy scruff that prickled your face. Way back when boxing was still his main pastime instead of "baking", both kinds actually and these days your husband finally knew how to make a decent muffin. In an effort to be romantic, he'd shown up at your work one day with a nice bouquet of roses. They were lovely flowers and you were immensely elated by the gesture, and especially amused since he'd bought the flowers from that very shop only the day before too.... However it was a shame you never got the chance to put them in water. See, somewhere between the ten steps it took to get from the door to your table, he had tripped and fallen flat on the ground. Don't worry, his face hadn't hit the hard ground, it was cushioned....by the thorny roses. Maybe it was a good thing the thorns had left so many bloody scratches. It meant you weren't able to tell his face had turned as red as the roses petals now surrounding him. Instead of the romantic date he wanted to take you on, the evening was spent with you dapping the cuts on his face with a damp cloth while he started at the wall, contemplating every life choice he'd ever made. That was the night Alfred Solomons decided he'd never trust a rose ever again. Not even the ones his darling wife sought to plant in her gardens.

"Alfie, come on! Roses aren't that bad, just because you had a little slip up years ago doesn't mean they all hate you."

Standing by up again, you held out your arms towards Alfie as music began to reach the garden. Shaking his head lightly, he set down his cane and took your arms, fully confident you'd be there to support him if his hip got too bad. You and Alfie had yet to dance tonight, caught up talking with others (which was really just your doing) and pointing out everyone who'd gotten too drunk and was trying piss in the plants. It wasn't something either of your minded to badly, the large crowds of people tended to make you feel a bit nervous and Alfie occasionally had a hard time keeping rhythm because of his hip. So most of your dancing was done in the back corners of the ballroom or privately in your kitchen, waiting for the midnight snacks to be done.

However tonight, it seems you'd be dancing in Thomas Shelby's garden. Slowly but happily, you waltzed closely with your husband, stepping around the fountain and laughing as he stopped to twirl you ever few seconds. Other than the music from the house and the gentle crunches of your shoes beneath the gravel path, the world was silent. When the song ended your husband gave you a gentle kiss and stepped back, though he was still holding you in his arms. Looking up above yourselves, you saw the constellations fitting the night sky.

"Ohh Alfie! Look at them! Aren't they beautiful?"

Beaming, you grinned up at the stars twinkling down on you before moving from your husband to a smaller empty plot of ground. You suspected that something was to be planted there soon, but paid no mind to the grime that would get on your skirt as you settled down to sit in the dirt. It was a nice little spot, right next to the rocky path and dug out in a manner that was lined on three sides by tall hedges. To anyone looking out if the mansion, the little alcove would have been completely invisible.

"What are ya doing now Dovey? Is this the thing you said we shouldn't be doing?" Alfie teased you from where he was still standing.

"I just wanna sit and watch the stars for a bit. Come," remaining seated you patted the spot next to you, "Join me."

Alfie walked over to the spot but when he got there, he only raised an eyebrow at you and tapped his hip with the cane. You stared for a moment and then it clicked. Laughing slightly at your forgetfulness, you stood up, bowing dramatically, and held out your arm.

"Right right, I forget you have the hip of an overworked, ninety seven year old parlor dancer. Shall I assist you to the ground my dear sir?"

Alfie only grumbled, but his eyes twinkled as you teased him. If anyone else had made the comment they'd have been dead before they blinked, but you were different. Alfred Solomons was capable of many things, but some nights when his hip got bad, he needed help moving around more, especially if it meant going from standing to sitting on the ground. You were happy to help of course, but being married for over a decade didn't mean the pair of you were above lightly poking fun of the other. Only two years ago, you had accidentally scratched part of your eye and needed to wear an eyepatch for five weeks. The first thing Alfie had done when you walked out of the examination room and asked if he could get food for dinner, was reply with "does patchy wanted a cracker" in reference to the one eyed parrot you'd seen in a film the month before. It was just something you'd always done together even before you started dating. A dark humor you both shared, as if joking about the hurt could make it better.

Holding his other arm, you gently helped your husband lower himself to the ground, squeezing his hand comfortingly when he let out a small groan. After helping your husband take a seat, you settled into your own again, leaning your head on his shoulder as you looked to the heavens.

"You aren't really gonna plant roses are ya Love? What if something happens to them?"

"Like what? You assault them with your face again?"

"....Maybe? But like why do you really enjoy them? I still don't see the charm."

Sighing, you shifted your gaze and looked your husband in the eyes. One of your hands moved up to his face, as you gently caresses the one spot on his face that refused to grow hair like the rest of his beard. You knew it was another old war wound, but this was actually one he had yet to tell you the story of. Gazing into his eyes a few moments more, you then changed positions so you were seated across his lap, one leg in either side of his.

"Why do I love roses?....Their petals are as soft as their thorns are sharp and given the right hand, their climb up any wall in their path. Not only that but their petals can have many uses for food or paint or even my blush. That means they are able to change their usefulness based off their situation at hand. They are able to adapt, nor are the helpless. Some people say the point of the thorns is to choke out anything else threatening to take the roses' livelihood." you gently held your husbands face between your hands as you continued, "I like roses because they remind me of you Alfie. Because they are beautiful, and strong, and dangerous. You are a gorgeous and strong man, and I know how badly you try to protect me every day. You are so kind to me, but I know how far you'll go for me. I would go just as far for you. You are my rose Alfred Solomons and so I love them as all they remind me of you."

Alfie was quiet for a moment, observing what you'd said. His hands sat on your waist, thumbs rubbing gently in your sides.

"You saying I'm like a fucking flower Dovey, is that it?"

"Yeah, you're my flower though."

"....Alright."

"....You know why else you're like a rose love?"

"Why poppet?"

"Because it can be a pain in the ass to keep you alive sometimes."

Alfie only put his hand to his chest in mock offense, while your grinned up at him mischievously.

"Oi, now you better watch your words there Dovey."

"Make me Rosie," you whispered, grinning as your leaned closer to your husbands face, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw.

Gently Alfie leaned back, taking you with him until his back was on the ground. Hands, still on his face, you could feel the smile on his face. Slowly one of his hands moved to your head bringing you down so he could kiss you again. Sweet at first but it quickly increased in passion and vigor. Though eventually you had to pull back for breath, and it was then you realized his hands had already rearranged your skirts in a way overnight you both.

"Alfred? I know we can't do this out here?"

Your husband only laughed, reaching towards his belt as he pulled you close again.

"Slide down a bit farther and I think you'll see we definitely can Dovey. It's only a matter of being quiet enough to evade capture."

It was a nice little spot, right next to the rocky path and dug out in a manner that was lined on three sides by tall hedges. To anyone looking out if the mansion, the little alcove would have been completely invisible. And luckily, the music was loud enough to hide the sounds of rustling bushes...

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It wasn't until the next morning when you realized what went wrong...

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

After making it back to the house last night and finding half the dog food "mysteriously missing", the pair of you had decided to call it a night. And since business was going so well Alfie had elected to take a few days off, hoping to spend more time with you. It also meant he'd finally be able to sleep in.....or so he thought.

A sudden crash woke Alfie from his slumber the next morning.

Shooting up, he automatically looked to his right, and his heart stopped for a moment realizing you weren't there. Another clatter from downstairs and a frustrated scream from you had him practically jumping out of bed and grabbing his gun. You usually like staying in bed for a few more hours, especially when he was there, so the fact he could hear your distress from upstairs made him worry.

Carefully Alfie snuck down the hall, peaking in rooms to make sure no unsavory figures were lurking behind the door. Another annoyed groan accompanied by various curse words hurried him to his final destination.

"Love, are you alright?"

It was a stupid thing to ask as you were very much not alright. The kitchen was a mess, looking like every cabinet had been opened and all the contents pulled out. Pots and bass were laud hurriedly across the counters as you rummaged through every nook and cranny. A quickly glance into the living room told Alfie it was scattered in a similar state. But you hadn't responded to your husband, not the first time or even the second. It wasn't until Alfie stepped right up behind you, putting his hand on your shoulder, and turning your around to face him when you responded.

"I can't find it."

Your voice wavered as you admitted the truth. Looking down like a small child about to be told off, you averted your face from your husband's. Alfie was still confused, but he could tell whatever you were rallying about was obviously important.

"Can't find what Dovey? Whatever it is it's probably isn't too bad. I can help ya find it righty?"

"No Alfie you don't undertstand."

"Then help me understand Love. Let's get through this together like we always have yeah? Come on, tell your husband what we're looking for." Carefully cupping your face in his hands, Alfie guided you to look at him again. He could see the tears welling in your eyes as you spoke.

"....I.....I lost my wedding ring Alfie."

"Oh."

It was the simple oh that broke the dam. Stepping back from your husband, tears began to stream down your face as you shoved your fingers in you hair as if trying to hold in the stress.

"SEE I told you it was terrible. I...I woke up this morning and went to the bathroom and noticed it missing when I went to clean my hands. I figured I'd just taken it off la... last night but it wasn't by the bed table like I usually put it. Then I went through the bathroom and it wasn't there. I've gone through every room in this hours and I can't fucking find it!!! I don't ....I don't know where it is Alfie. I just... oh god."

Covering you mouth with your hand, you realized where you lost the ring.

"Alfie the fucking garden."

"The garden? Love you haven't made the garden yet, how could it be there?"

"No, TOMMY'S garden. It has to be there. It fell off last night when we were rolling in the dirt. I've been meaning by to get it resized. Oh fuck this is awful"

Alfie actually chuckled at your realization. Of course the ring would fall off in the most inconvenient place possible, but he wasn't about to tell you that.

"Thats alright Dovey we can just..."

Throwing your hands in the air you interrupted your husband, frustrated at yourself for a number of reasons. It stung Alfie's heart to see you like this. Carefully he dragged your hands from your face and pulled you into a hug. Soothingly his hands ran up and down your back as he tried to comfort you.

"We can just what Alfred? Waltz back over and demand he let us dig up the plants for it? He'd probably ask why and what are we suppose to say then huh Alfred? Oh you know, we lost it in the garden you see...Well what were you doing there Y/N? ...Nothing much just fertilizing the soil, pollinating the flower, playing like the rake and ho, rustling the bushes, sowing seed in the garden, FUCKING IN THE FLOWERBEDS!!!! No we can't do that Alfie we just can't! It's probably gone forever... I'm so sorry."

Alfie was the one to hide his face this time. He knew you were in distress but he was amused by one of your last sentences. You always were good with the innuendos. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to get you to calm down. He knew at this point you weren't so mad about the ring, as just overwhelmed by the lack of success you'd had in finding it.

"Yes love, we can tell him all those things and if he'd got any sort of romantic bone in his tiny, banged up little body he'd offer us shovels to dig if we need them. And if not then I'd wager every deal I'd ever have with his lot is out the fucking window isn't it. We've been married since before the little one of them was teething haven't we? It's not like they don't think we're fucking. Besides it's a decent fucking garden, Tommy should have know what he was doing when he made that little hidey spot didn't he? It'll be fine. And if I find it then I'll get to propose to you all over again won't I? I think if I got one wish left in the word it would be to do that again. Ask if you'd be mine forever and let you know I'll always be there. Love I promise. It's alright Dovey, it's ok. No need to get worked up about it's not such a big deal."

Thought he was trying to help, his last sentence only made things worse. Stepping pack from Alfie you threw your hands up again.

"IT IS OUR MARRIAGE ALFIE! And I've practically lost it like it means nothing at all! How can you say that!"

There it was. The really reason you were so worked up. Not because you'd lost the little ring. It was because somewhere in your mind, over the years you'd been together, you'd gotten the idea that if you didn't have it on your were almost betraying everything you held dear. As if you thought without the ring, all the vows you'd mad together were nil. Alfie couldn't help but laugh at that. He laughed hard too, like you'd told the funniest joke in their world.

"You think that ring is our marriage?"

Stepping closer again Alfie took your arms and pulled you closer.

"Our marriage is so much more than that fucking ring love," he said, cupping your face between his hands again. "Our marriage is me stealing Ollie's shirt before every lunch date because his is cleaner than mine and wanna look my best for the best, that's you by the way. It's you grinning at me through the glass window at fuck O'clock in then morning when I've taken the dog out for a piss since you thought it'd be funny to lock me out in the cold in my fucking skeevies again. It's me paying a fuck ton of money to the flower shop down the street so you could get a rose every week I was away fighting. It's you spending hours patching me up after I had a bad fight even though blood makes you gag yeah. When you refuse to give me dinner until I give you a kiss and when I won't give you a gift until I've gotten a hug? Sharing a bath after a hard day? That's our marriage. You interrupting my meeting because you're so excited to show me a new book? Me interrupting your book club because I've just gotten back from a business trip? You demanding I come to bed and cuddle up, only to shove me off of you later when you're too hot? Me tightening jars in the pantry so you have to get me to open them? Making fun of each other's injuries, patchy? Don't you see it? You. Me. You. Me. You. Me. WE."

"Alfie..." You couldn't help but smile at your husband's words realizing he was right.

"Dovey, It isn't defined by a thin piece of metal with a tiny fucking stone that I stole off a rich toff at a boxing match one day. Our marriage is YOU and ME and every little moment in between. And I promise it's always gonna be just that. And do you know why that is Treacle?"

Alfie had moved his hands again, now resting them on your hips. Gazing at you lovingly he waited for your answer.

"Why Ally?"

"Because I'm your flower remember? I'm your fucking rose.... and you're fucking my sunshine, Dovey. I have no chance of living without you."

Wrapping your arms around your husband, you buried your face into his neck. Losing the ring you'd worn almost every day for years didn't seem so criminal anymore.

"Alfred Solomons when did you learn to say something so romantic."

Your husband only chuckled as he step away, grabbing some of the boxes you'd pulled out in your panic.

"A master never reveals his secrets Dovey. Now come on. Let's clean this up and then we'll go get you a new ring eh? Wouldn't want any gangly miscreant thinking they've got a chance with you would we?"

Looking at the damage you'd done, you couldn't but sigh, maybe it would have been better to wake your husband immediately before diving head first into your expedition. Now you were kicking yourself since you'd just redone all the work you'd don't last week reorganizing every thing.

"I'm not sure the jewellery shop will still be open today by the time we finish Alfred. I'm not even sure we'll be able to finish this in a week with the mess I've made."

Your husband just bonked you lightly with the broom he handed you and nudged you in the direction of the living room.

"That's alright Dovey. Because unless you've got some nefarious little plans I haven't heard of to steal my dog and run off, I don't think either of us is going anywhere anytime soon aren't we?"

You could only smile and kiss him on the cheek.

"I suppose you're right. We've got all the time in the world...."

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

Two years later...

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

"Shelby, I want my dog."

The Shelby in question turned around, eyeing the woman before him. He knew this day would come. Only he expected it to be sooner, a few days, maybe even a week later...but now it was four months. Four months since he....despite his feelings towards the man, Tommy couldn't help but feel slight regrets for what he'd done. Especially seeing the state of her now, standing in his garden.

"He's just gone on a walk with Charlie and Finn. They should be back in an hour or so."

"I'll wait... I see you filled in that empty plot of ground. They're lovely flowers, I don't remember them being there two winters ago."

Tommy averted his gaze to the bushes you were pointing at. Indeed the small alcove where you'd hidden with your husband had been filled. In its place grew a thick rose bush, blooming with life. You smiled, and to anyone else, they might have thought your look truthful. And some of it was, thinking of the happy memories connected there. But Tommy could see deeper than that. Behind the smile he could see the same pain he had when he looked in mirrors. The pain that came from losing the thing you loved most. For as different as you both were, he knew the tactic you played, though the mask you wore was much brighter than his. And for now he decided he could respect that. He could pretend just for a moment, if only to help you. It was the least he could do, seeing as he was the reason you wore it... He was the one to pull the trigger.

"You're right. The gardener put them in almost two years ago, right after the party where Arthur and Finn tossed Michael into the lake. Do you remember that one? I saw you talking to my sister but never saw you leave that night."

A genuine chuckle left your mouth hearing his words. You played with the ring on your left hand. Only two years old and very expensive, but in that moment, it felt like you were wearing another ring again. One that was much older and worn, that you hadn't seen in years.

"I do. That was certainly a night I'll remember forever. It's a shame you got rid of that little alcove. It was a nice little spot away from the world wasn't it."

Tommy could only nod and take another drag of his cigarette.

"Did Alfie ever tell you about the first and last time he gave me roses in person. I mean, of course he probably didn't and I'll have to tell you sometime, but I think you might find it funny. There's a lot about him I'm sure he hasn't told you. But then again, knowing him there's probably a lot he did..." You trailed off, staring at the flowers a bit longer, remembering that day over a decade ago, not really meaning to tell Tommy that, doing so anyway. After all, no one had heard from you in months, so it made sense to him, that you'd be eager to talk to anyone. Even the man you should hate most in the world.

Silence descended on the pair standing tense in the garden. There was so much to be said, but neither knew where to start. Truthfully, you'd only talked to Tommy a handful of times, but he felt like he'd already known you like his sister. He couldn't help but scoff, thinking of all the times Alfie had gone off on a tangent about you during a meeting. Sometimes, your mention had nothing to do what was being discussed at all, Alfie just liked to brag about the good he had. In the end it was Tommy who spoke up first, the guilt of his past actions finally caving in on him.

"Y/N, I'm sor..."

"Don't. Thomas, I don't want you to say sorry," turning from the vibrant blooms, you faced the capped man. "I don't want you to say sorry, because you know what? I don't blame you. You're completely alright. I'm not mad at you.... It's my fault I suppose. I could have stopped it."

Tommy raised his eyebrow, curious to what you meant, and also concerned. There was something in your eyes that made his stomach turn slightly hearing those words. But he couldn't exactly place why.

"What's that suppose to mean Y/N?"

You only let out a bittersweet laugh and stared out into the garden again, sitting on the edge of a familiar fountain before you revealed the truth.

"It's my fault he's gone I think. I should have known. I should have never left that day and I could have stopped it."

Tommy's brows furrowed as he sat down next to you.

"What's that mean? You couldn't have known what his plan was? It's not your fault."

Absentmindedly, you picked at the leaves of a nearby bush. Though your voice was even, Tommy could practically see the war inside your head.

"It's how he kissed me when I left that day. I was only going to be gone a few days to visit my friend who was suppose to have her baby soon. Nothing dangerous. But it's the way he kissed me that should have tipped me off. He kissed me the way he did when he got on the damed train, in that damned uniform. He kissed me like he didn't think he'd see me ever again, going to die in the war. And I guess he didn't."

Tommy didn't say anything. He just let you continue. Something in his head told him, he needed to let your speak, he needed to keep you here tonight. If he let you leave today, no one would ever see you again and something in Tommy told him not to let that happen.

"You know I still haven't admitted it to myself just yet... The truth," standing up you began to pace around the fountain, circling the water. "Since I first got the call I haven't picked up the phone anymore, I'm scared of what I'll hear. I haven't opened any letters, because I don't want to see what they'll say. I still haven't even gone home yet. I've been paying for a hotel room by my friend's house and only leaving by when I need more food. I know it not good for me, but it's all I can find I can do. I've been telling myself it's just that. He's gone to the war again and he'll be back in a few months." Though you spoke with a smile as if talking about the weather, it was easy to see the pain in your eyes. You thought denying the truth would make the hurt go away. But it wouldn't, Tommy knew it was only a matter of time before you broke. And like with Cyril, he felt like he was the one who needed to help. So he decided to play along for now, letting you keep your act up. Atleast until he could figure out the best way to fix the mess he still felt he'd made.

"You tell yourself it's the war eh? Do you write him letters."

"Yes, I write him one almost every day. But I haven't sent any. Did you know that I was rarely able to send them to him during the war. Something about his post being secretive, and no one should know where it really was. So I'd just... write a letter everyday and when I got a letter that his squad was resting at a safe camp every few months I'd just send the packet of them.... If I was lucky I'd get one back, but most of the time I just had to wait. I learned a lot about waiting then. I learned it was better to laugh too. Laughing helped me stay sane."

Standing up, Tommy began walking with you as you stepped deeper into the gardens.

"Laughing eh? Well I guess it's better than what I did. Almost drunk myself to the grave and then fucked off in a caravan with my son for a month. Seems you're handling it better than me."

You could only scoff at his response.

"Oh don't worry, there's been plenty of drinks for me too. I'm a happy drunk though, so I guess it helps my plan. After all, as long as I'm laughing, I don't have time to cry. I don't think I'll be able to stop crying the day I begin. So I'm just trying to hold off as long as I can."

"Aren't we all."

Silence fell in the garden again, and the two widowed souls walked back to the house. It was starting to get back and Tommy had noticed Finn's car pull up a few minutes ago. When you reached the back door you were met with a fluffy beast knocking you over as soon he'd caught sight of you. Cyril was happy to have at least one of his masters back. The man taking care of his now treated him well, but he still missed life with his old owners, even if he couldn't express it in words.

While you reunited with Cyril and applauded Charlie on the tricks he taught the dog, Tommy went to gather some of Cyril's things and have Francis prepare a room for you. Tommy had no clue where you'd take the dog, but seeing as you seemed adamant about staying away from Margret, and apparently didn't despise Tommy (somehow), he thought it made sense to let you stay the night for a bit. And something still told him to convince you to stay even if just for one day.

On his was back down the stairs he noticed something sitting on the table and there was a click in his brain. He remembered the curiosity brought to him that morning during breakfast, and suddenly a lot of odd business meetings made sense. He finally realized who'd messed up the empty dirt patch that night two years ago. Grabbing the object off the table, Tommy headed back to the drawing room. Inside you were still petting your beloved dog, even though Finn had taken Charlie to get ready for bed.

"Y/N, I went up to grab some of Cyril's things, but I think it may be better for you to spend the night here. It's getting late and I don't think either of us wants the dog getting hurt if you were to crash."

You laughed gently at his words, not caring to ask about the hand behind his back. Not thinking much about his words, you accepted his offer. You knew you should be mad at him, hate him, even what to kill him, but you couldn't. You were too tried to be mad at anyone right now. Besides, it wasn't like you knew where you were going anyway. You just wanted to see your...his dog again. Maybe if you had that little piece left, it would make it easier to move on. It would make it easier to pretend you weren't alone now.

"Alright. I'll stay. But only so Charlie can give Cyril a proper goodbye. I'd hate to tear them apart, it seems they've made close friends."

"They have," Tommy smiled, genuinely happy thinking of how closely his son had bonded with the dog. "Cyril's stuff is in Charlie's room now infact. They've taken such a liking, I can't keep them apart. We can get his stuff tomorrow, but I do have one thing I think you may want now."

You looked towards the Shelby man curious. "What is it?," you questioned.

Silently Tommy extended his hand to give you the object he'd snagged from the table.

It was a single rose... But something was different about it. The stem seemed to have grabbed something buried within the dirt to take along as it began to grow. Twisting and turning all the way out of the dirt, outwards towards the sun, as if offering the shiny object up. An ages old promise from the rose to the sun of an endless truth, never broken even in death...

The rose was offering his sun a ring.

And not just any ring. A wedding ring. Simple and worn, it had been stolen off a rich toff from a boxing match many years ago. It had survived work and war, seen blood and lust, and so many other things. And while the ring didn't define the marriage it represented a promise you thought you'd never see again. But here now, seeing how tightly the rose stem had grown around it, you knew you'd never have to worry about that again. Not even death could stop the love the rose proposed to his sun. Even in death he'd still offer her life.

You couldn't even take the rose from Tommy's hand before you finally broke. Laughing at the irony, Tears streamed down your face as you sunk to your knees, all the pain you'd been bottling up coming out. And thus you sobbed, hard. So hard in fact, it felt like you couldn't breathe. And you sobs were still mixed with laughter of disbelief as a million memories ran through your head, but none as loud as the one of that night and the morning after.

Two years ago you'd lost that ring. Alfie promised that he'd look multiple times whenever he went back to the house, even if it meant having the meeting in the garden like "a bunch of prissy ladies at a fucking tea party" as he'd called it. And for two years he'd had no luck until now. But today, your rose had finally found the lost ring, even if you'd lost him months ago.

Setting the rose gently on the table, Tommy sunk to his knees too. Letting you grab onto him, for a shoulder to mourn on. He knew you needed it. For so long you'd shut yourself away, denying the truth and trying to act like it didn't affect you. You wanted to pretend your world wasn't falling apart and now you couldn't any more. He'd been he same way, except he didn't have anyone to help him. He couldn't burden his one year old son with his grief and he knew most of his family still resented Grace to some degree. They hadn't been as destroyed by her passing as he had. He didn't want you to be alone like he had. For as many terrible thing as Tommy had done, he couldn't bring it upon himself to leave you alone now. And so he sat on the floor, holding you in his arms as the cracked dam finally broke.

That night, until the early hours of the morning, Thomas Shelby sat comforting the wife of the man he'd killed. And he would until she'd fallen asleep, finally worn out from her grieving. In the morning he'd offer breakfast and they'd get to talking about the loves they lost. They were still both hurt and broken and mourning what they'd lost, but they weren't alone now. For two people so different they both knew what the other felt so deeply. Little snippets and stories about happier times, while watching a little boy play with a big dog, laughing as the pair rolled in the grass. And while both still grieved, there was a peace to be found in being with someone who knew how they felt.

And while they talked, Y/N played with the ring on her finger. It was new and expensive and fit just right. This one was only two years old and didn't have many memories but she loved it just the same. And upstairs by her bed sat another ring, but this one was held tightly by a rose she'd placed in a vase. This was the ring that she loved more, and the one she really wanted to wear, but she couldn't bear to tear it from the rose just yet. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to. Maybe she'd let the rose dry out and preserve it like she use to do someone's at the flower shop when she was young. But for now she's let it live as it was.

Holding on tightly to a promise that not even death could divide...

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

While all this happened a mailman was headed towards Birmingham with a letter from a dead man, asking about his dog and looking for his wife....

#Alfie Solomons x reader #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders #alfie solomons #tales from the flower garden

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epickiya722 · 22 days

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Of course, Izuku can't have his moment without some people having an issue about it.

Not surprised, anything involving Izuku Midoriya someone is going to hate and has been for almost 10 years now.

Here's the thing that honestly has pissed me off about the fandom. And you know what, I know some of you are going to think I'm a bitch about this, but at this point? I don't care. I'm now at a limit that has been pushed.

When it comes to Izuku Midoriya, some of you seem to forget that he is an individual. This is still HIS story he's telling.

Look, I got my ships, but damn it. Sometimes, I want these characters to still be perceived as their own characters.

Katsuki showing up this chapter was enough for me. Yes, he is a big part of Izuku's story, but... I feel like it would not be right for him to be more included in AFO and Shigaraki's ultimate defeat.

Last time I checked, Katsuki was only a temporary OFA user... FROM A MOVIE. His journey didn't completely evolve around One For All. Izuku's did.

When Katsuki was having his awesome moments fighting AFO when he was a kid and a baby (AFO), I ain't seen no one going "Oh, Izuku should be by his side, BakuDeku" or anything like that. No, y'all was cheering Katsuki on and seemed satisfied that Izuku served as support.

That's all this fandom ever does is see as Izuku as support for Katsuki, just he always has to have his story evolve around Katsuki and nothing else.

He's the main character, but with some of you? He's not allowed to have his own moments to shine. He's not allowed to think about anything else but Katsuki. He's not allowed to put down the villain he was meant to face unless Katsuki is there to take the shine away.

Be honest, that's how you feel, isn't it?

Like, damn, Katsuki already won the last how many popularity polls!! When are y'all going to rest and let Izuku Midoriya be front row and center in his own damn story?!

I don't hate Katsuki, but I'm starting to dislike a lot of his fans.

Same for Shoto.

Look, Shoto also being more involved like how some of y'all wanted for this chapter would make no fucking sense to me. His fight was always meant to be against Dabi. His story involved his family. Izuku wasn't there fighting Dabi, so why in the hell should Shoto share some of the big moment when Izuku takes out ShigAFO?

How would that be fair for Izuku?

Some of you didn't even like Izuku being involved with the family drama and later he wasn't for the big fight because the Todoroki Family Drama wasn't for him.

As with Katsuki, Shoto is still a supporting character. He's a big one, but oh my gosh!!

I literally just woke up and the bull I'm already seeing is ridiculous, it is.

Sometimes, I feel like some of you who think they know the story haven't been paying attention at all. Some of you, I feel have that "this character should have been the main character" mentality so when Izuku does MC things, you go into some frenzy over it. Some of you, I feel should take off the damn shipping goggles and for once realize that these characters are still individuals and percieve them as such. Horikoshi, if you read this... don't make any ship canon. The fandom can settle for fics.

Ten years... for ten years... as much as some of you demean Katsuki for his actions, you act just as he did towards Izuku. Treat Izuku like some damn punching bag. You don't even have to like the story, I don't give a damn.

He gets moments to shine, it's a problem. "No, this character should be---" Just stop!

I'm not saying Horikoshi's writing is perfect. I'm not saying you have to like Izuku. I'm not even saying I'm an expert on BNHA because I'm still learning the story, too.

But what I am saying is, and it's going to sound bitchy, is that y'all are so blinded and muddled by your criticism and shipping that you're quick to make judgments. You're quick to rush and not sit back and really try to understand what's going on and your hatred or indifference towards Izuku is just doing a disservice to not just the story, but to yourselves. The way some of you think will ruin the experience for you and some of you sound like jerks, for real.

Like, every character is important to BNHA in some way, yes. But what about Izuku Midoriya? Doesn't his importance matter, too?

Or is he just some character for you to hate on or some character you only value for shipping purposes?

Feel how you about this chapter (even though it was just leaks and not the officially out chapter, let alone THE WHOLE DAMN STORY!! BNHA AIN'T FINISHED YET!!), I don't care.

But oh my gosh... do better, just do better.

It isn't just this fandom. It's all fandoms. There's this trend now of "criticizing" the main characters or saying "they're not really the MC" or how their value as a character for shipping purposes.

This can apply to any character, but right now I'm focusing on main characters.

When it comes to main characters, you should understand them most of all to understand the story and a lot of you or at least the loud minority have failed drastically.

#i mean it is still HIS damn story #i get some criticisms like pacing alright #but come on #izuku get behind me 99.8% of this fandom don't care about you #'but i do--' no you don't no the fuck you don't #just kiya's thoughts #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha 423 #bnha manga spoilers #bnha spoilers #bnha leaks #mha leaks #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya #deku

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lottesreads · 1 month

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Why Me? - Part 10

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, ANGST, violence, nightmares, mentions of PTSD, mentions of child abuse, swearing, mentions of anxiety and panic attacks, smutty (smut-ish?) (horny thoughts, idk), mentions of drinking, Rooster being ok for once. (Let me know if I missed any, there's just a lot going on in this one)

Word Count: 13.5k (IM SO SORRY)

Summary: You're facing the consequences after Phoenix's party, knowing what you want isn't fair to you or Bob. After a bit of a setback, you go back to work more than ready to prove to yourself you are part of the squad for a reason. And it doesn't take long for you and Bob to realize avoiding each other isn't the right way to go about things.

A/N: An extra long part, just for you lovely bunch. I just want to personally thank each and everyone of you for sticking around! I am so sorry this took literally two months to get out, but ya girl was going through it man. I wrote and re-wrote this part so many times and I hope you all like it. Again, I love to hear what y'all think!

I should also mention I was listening to TTPD on repeat while writing, so do with that what you will.

Masterlist

Despite the cool temperature seeping through the night air, your skin is unbelievably hot. From your head down to your toes you are burning up. Right as you think you have it under control and can go back inside to the party you’re reminded about what happened moments ago and the cycle starts from the beginning. Your tongue runs over your lips as you attempt to get your breathing under control again, but the taste of Bob lingers. What did you just do?

Bob is doing all he can right now. Which is simply sitting behind the steering wheel of his truck, staring at the dashboard with his heart in his throat. He just kissed you. Well technically, you kissed him first, but the second one… He started that one. Right after he told you what he promised himself he never would.

His forehead falls to the stitching of the leather wheel as he lets out a breath. It was like you appeared from his thoughts when you followed him out the back door. It took everything in him not to look at you because he knew if he did, he would have ended up telling you exactly what he did. And then you apologized. On behalf of some woman he wasn’t interested in, who was kinda mean to him. The embarrassment of his supposed “date” for the night making out with Rooster was shortly overthrown by your hands on his face, tugging him into what he would call the best part of his night, no- year- lifetime? Ugh. He takes his glasses off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. You’ve got him all messed up. Either way, it wasn’t a dream this time, and you told him you wanted to kiss him. You’re the one that initiated it! That must mean something, right?

He keeps running over what happened, trying to figure out where to pick up from where you two were interrupted. Ok, first he confesses his feelings, two, you kiss him. YOU kissed HIM. And you told him you wanted to, which is why three: he kissed you. Oh god, he kissed you, held you, and everything about it was… perfect. Your lips were so soft against his, you smelled like flowers and tasted like his favorite soda. But then, before you could do or say anything else, the back door was opening, and now he finds himself behind his steering wheel. Oh god, did he really just leave you there?

Placing his glasses back on his face, Bob stares out the window of his truck at Phoenix’s house. You were probably still out in the backyard, or maybe you went back inside after he abandoned you. Either way, there’s no way he can walk back inside and act like everything is normal. Not now, maybe not ever. His hand falls to his key in the ignition, and as slow as he can, he turns it, roaring the truck to life. Before he gets too far down the street, Bob takes one last look in his rearview mirror, the glow from the house getting dimmer the farther he drives away.

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

It’s not long after you’re able to collect yourself to your utmost ability that you quietly creep back into the kitchen. The party is still in full swing in the living room, and Phoenix catches your eye as you head toward the front door without anyone else noticing. She slips away from Rachel for a quick second, heading in your direction.

“Are you heading out?”

“Yeah”, you reply apologetically. “Thanks for having me over.” Her eyes roam over your face, as yours dart toward your feet, hoping she won’t notice something’s off.

“Ok…”, she lets you go, “Thanks for coming over, it means a lot to us.” Her face gives you a shy smile, something you don’t see her sport a lot. It makes you forget about your own dealings for a moment and remember why you came over in the first place.

“I was happy to. Rachel’s a keeper.”

“Oh don’t start getting all sappy with me”, she teases as she gently hits your shoulder. You’re halfway across the lawn when she calls out to you one last time. “And Mantis?”

“Yeah?”, you ask, turning toward her voice.

“If you see Bob will you just tell him I need to talk to him?” Your mouth goes dry, and you force a small smile to your face.

“Uh-huh”, it comes out a little more squeaky than you hoped, but she understands you nonetheless. She closes the door and you turn back to your car, face heating up once again.

Somehow you managed to drive home, AC on blast, trying to cool yourself down. Flashes of Bob’s rough hands being so gentle with you alight your senses, giving you butterflies. You can practically feel his lips on yours, the way he gripped your waist, ran his hand up your back, has you closing your eyes, somehow hoping you’d be able to feel it all again. You can’t help it as you walk to the front door, but the feeling of his lips chasing your own has your mouth shifting into the smallest smile. Everything is right with the world as you reminisce, but you know from experience that good things never last.

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

Your mind is hazy as Bob’s lips move in sync with your own. It’s comfortably warm as his hands trail down your sides, your own moving up into his hair. He stops, just for a second, and you’re able to look around at your surroundings. It’s your room, but it’s not yours. It’s the room in your mom’s house back in Ohio. It looks the same way it did the day you started packing. Like it’s been perfectly preserved in time. Only, Bob is here, and there’s a mysterious haze surrounding the two of you. That panicky feeling starts to rise as you notice each and every detail your mind had stored away long ago, you didn’t even remember how many picture frames you had on your dresser until this very moment. All four of them sit in their exact spots, each depicting a moment with your dad, Carole or Bradley.

Bob’s mouth makes its way back to your own, and you forget about where you are, allowing yourself to get lost in this dream. Each moment spent not focusing on Bob paints a clearer vision of the place you spent a majority of your life wishing you could escape. But right now, all you want to do is stay. Your feet lead the way to your twin bed, pushing Bob onto the pink covers as you straddle his lap. You so desperately need to know how it feels to have him in this position, but your mind, only knowing what it feels like to kiss him won’t allow you to fulfill your fantasy. You push harder, needing to feel him all over. He starts dragging his lips down your neck as you grip the back of his neck, trying as hard as you can to hold on to him in the only place you know you can. Where there isn’t an outside world telling you it’s against some rule to feel the way you do.

A car door slams shut, disrupting your flow. Your blood runs cold as you freeze in his hold. Your heart thrums in your chest as you sit quietly in his lap, waiting for the following sound of the front door. He continues to kiss up your neck, distracting you as you sit and wait. You flinch as the front door is forcefully closed. You’re vaguely aware of the ghosting of Bob’s hands, his lips, but you wince with each clack of a heel up the wood paneling of the stairs.

You know it’s not real. You know it deep down. But the sound is uncanny as the click of heels gets closer to your room, and now you can barely feel Bob anymore. As if this dream version of him can sense what you’re thinking, he turns your head as you collide your lips together. You can’t hear anything, feel anything other than Bob, and the recent memory of what it felt like to kiss him. The rest of the room is slowly wiped away as you and Bob part, choosing to just hold him instead. You can almost make out the beating of his own heart, as if he were real. The dresser, like a fog, slowly drifts away, the frames on it, the few posters on your wall, your desk. It’s as if you were never teleported back here in the first place.

Moving your head, you take a glance at Bob. You’re still perched in his lap as he gives you a gentle smile. A peaceness falls over you and this hazy version of him. You move to touch the freckle at the base of his hairline, only to feel nothing. That’s something you wish you could have done before now, so you could do it a million more times. You see his head move to kiss your wrist, but feel a breeze where his lips meet your skin. Leaning down, you softly connect your lips with his, at least you know what that feels like. But that only means you will torture yourself with the memory. It does its job now to soothe you into a calm state. For a few brief moments.

The doorknob twists as a large wind sweeps through the room, knocking the door into the wall. Your heart leaps out of your chest as your mother stands in the doorway, smoke practically fuming from her ears.

“YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!”, she screams. Your hands attempt to grasp on to Bob for dear life, but as you look down you’re only holding air. Bob is nowhere to be found. You squeeze your eyes as hard as you can, bringing your hands up to your face in an attempt to wake yourself. Rubbing as hard as you can so hopefully once you open them she’ll be gone. The all too familiar feeling of sharp nails and the pressure of your mother’s hands wrap around your wrists, forcing you to look into her borderline black eyes. You’re paralyzed in fear, shaking in her grasp as she squeezes tighter and tighter.

“DO YOU EVEN HEAR ME?”, she screams, tacking your name on at the end. First and middle, cursing a pang through your nervous system. A response you thought you had rid yourself of until this very moment. A hand moves to squeeze your cheeks together, stopping you if you even had the guts to say anything. It hurts. It hurts like it did when you were seven, when you were seventeen, and that’s what scares you the most. If this is still a dream, how can it hurt so much?

“YOU NEVER THINK!”, she screams in your face as you try to lean away. Her breath is the same, spearmint gum with an undertone of whatever wine she got into this time. You feel so weak in her hold as she pulls you closer. In a split second the pain from her grip is gone until her palm cracks against your cheek. Hard enough to have you falling off your bed. The palms of your hands tingle as you fall, and it feels like an eternity until your back hits the hardwood flooring.

You awake with a gasp, then a groan as you blink your eyes open. There’s the soft glow from the morning sun streaming through the blinds of your window. Your heart feels as if it’s about to beat out of your chest, it’s hitting your ribcage so hard. The glow falls on your dresser, the one from IKEA your dad insisted on getting you when he started renting the house. The house. The home your dad made in North Island. You look for the picture frames on top, there’s the ones of you and your dad, and Carole, but none of Bradley. You’re home, you’re safe.

Your head falls to the cool wood of your bedroom floor, the sweat oozing from your pores causing your skin to stick to the material. Your back and shoulder are a little sore, probably from falling off your bed, but your wrists and face feel fine. Even so, you lift a shaky hand, eyeing any possible bruising. Nothing. Just the faint green from the fading bruise on your knuckles. You kick the blanket twisted around your legs, rubbing your eyes to avoid tripping to the bathroom. There you turn the faucet on, running your hands under the cold water then splashing some on your face. An attempt to ground you in reality as you stare back in the mirror. Only, you can’t see yourself. You can only see every defining feature that reminds you and everyone else of the monster from your nightmare.

The blood rushes to your ears as your fear makes way for anger. It eats you up, taking over your senses the longer you stare. The face of a person who doesn’t care if you live or die stares back. Throwing down the towel you were using to dry your hands, and clad in your pajamas, you race down the stairs. You barely register your dad asking what that noise was, but you don’t stop, set on making it to the front door. You didn’t even bother putting on shoes, not like it matters, as you start walking. Where to, you don’t know. You just need to feel something real. Know there’s life outside of your head. Away from her.

“Where are you going?”, your dad asks from the front door, you’re a house down when from the lawn he yells your name. And even though it’s coming from your dad, you still flinch, making you all the more mad. He’s taken aback as you turn on your heel.

“I’m going for a fucking walk! Is that ok with you?”, you yell back. He stands there nothing short of aghast as you clench your fists at your side.

“Where the hell did that come from? Are you ok?”, he asks as he holds his hands up in surrender, trying not to set you off anymore than you already are.

“I’m fine”, you spit. The recoil on his face coupled with the worried look has you feeling the tiniest bit remorseful. “I’m sorry, I just- I need to be alone right now.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I just wanna know when you’re planning on being back.”

“I don’t know, just give me a minute.”

“You’re just gonna walk around barefoot then?”

“I don’t fucking know”, you huff. “I’ll be back. You don’t need to worry about me.” Without sparing him another glance you start walking. Your dad sighs and curses under his breath as he watches you storm off in one of his old t-shirts and your plaid pajama shorts.

You do as you say. Walk. That is until a flash from your dream causes a tremor in your hands you’re doing your very best to ignore. The image of her standing in front of you, in your mirror has you shaking in anger, and that’s when you start running. Where to, you don’t know. You just need to get away for one goddamn second. The slam of your bare feet against the cement hurts in the best way, letting you know this is real. It’s not some nightmare you can’t escape from.

It’s not fair. The way she haunts you, ruins every good thing you get your hands on. You curse the fact that ever since you were little people were always telling you how much you looked like your mother. She lingers in the mirror every time you try to look at yourself. It makes you wonder if she sees you whenever she catches sight of herself. Then again, you always thought one of the reasons she despised you so much was because you reminded her of your father. A constant reminder of her biggest mistake in life.

The only real way you know time has passed is the way the sun rises slightly higher in the sky. You haven’t stopped running since you started, and it isn’t until the feel of sand beneath your bare feet slows you down. Your calves are burning as you trudge your way across the warm grains. It gets colder as you get closer to the water, and once the salty waves lap at your feet you stop.

Quickly realizing how out of breath you are, you back up and fall into the warmer sand. Your hyperventilating moves into gasping breaths as your chest heaves. You glance up to the light blue sky, then down to the deep blue of the Pacific. You’re reminded of Bob’s gentle eyes, and his kind smile. You allow yourself to get angry again. Just for a little bit. He left you last night. After saying those wonderful things about you, and then granting you a moment you won’t be able to forget in this lifetime. And again, in your dream. He left. Just like everyone does. Not that he had a choice. You can’t be selfish and expect him to stay when you know it’s a risk for the both of you. You hang your head, placing it in between your knees as you hug them closer to yourself. It’s just not fair.

You could ask yourself why. Why after almost 11 years of not seeing your mother, why she still haunts your nightmares. But you know. You were doing something you shouldn’t have. Every time you misstepped, misspoke, she was there to punish you. And even now that she’s not a part of your life, she will always exist in that little part of your brain that punishes yourself. Maybe the two of you aren’t as different as you like to think.

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

After a restless night, much to the chagrin of Sylvia, who ultimately decided to sleep on the floor rather than next to the twisting and turning of her dad, Bob checks his phone. There’s a couple texts from Phoenix asking him to call her, one from Fanboy confirming their movie night later in the week, but nothing from you. To be fair, he was the one who ran away in the first place, but every time he picked up his phone to draft a text to you, it seemed all wrong. What could he say through a text that could convey how he felt, or how much he wanted to talk to you again? Tossing his phone to the pillow next to his own, he huffs out a breath, running a hand over his face. Everything is just so confusing.

As he stares at the ceiling, his phone starts to buzz. He squints at the screen after reading the name, surely it can’t be. Grabbing his glasses and placing them on his face he double checks the caller I.D. So he had it right the first time, huh. Maverick’s contact name comes up as it continues to buzz, and Bob answers it with a shaky hand. There’s no way this was on purpose. The only reason he even had his number was so Maverick could coordinate everything for the initial beach day. And then he told everyone to keep his number for emergencies.

“Hello?”, Bob asks as he breaches the silence of his room.

“Bob, hey. It’s Maverick.” Ok, so he does know he called Bob.

“Hey, Mav. What’s up?”

“Listen, I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s Mantis.” Bob swallows, trying to clear the frog in his throat at the mention of you.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. She ran out in a hurry this morning and she hasn’t been back since. I normally wouldn’t worry, but she left her phone and it’s already been a while. Listen- have you seen her at all?” Bob’s thoughts are running through his mind, wondering if you’re hurt somewhere.

“No sir”, not since you had your hands all over him last night. His face heats up at the thought, but immediately he refocuses his attention on worry, clearing his throat. “Not since last night. Have you checked with Phoenix?”

“Yeah, she hasn’t seen or heard from her either. I just thought that since the two of you are friends she might have said something. Did she seem ok last night? Or did anything happen?” Bob’s heart sinks as the thought that he might be the reason you’re gone moves to the forefront of his mind.

“Um- yeah she seemed fine last night.” Bob’s mind is reeling, you did seem ok. You seemed to be enjoying yourself, actually. But then again, maybe it’s not about him. “I can go out looking for her”, he rushes out.

“No, that’s ok. I think Phoenix is already doing that. Stay put, maybe she’ll show up at someone’s house”, he sighs. Bob can tell he sounds stressed. He can almost picture him standing on the front porch of your house, waiting for you to come back.

“Ok. Will you just uh- have someone let me know when you find her?”

“I will. Thanks Bob.”

“No problem, sir.”

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

The beach has gotten a little louder, a little hotter since you arrived. But all you’ve been doing is staring out at the waves. The cool breeze shifts loose hair around your face, the unruly locks that haven’t been taken care of after you woke up this morning. The weight of a hand on your shoulder takes you out of your trance as you quickly try to move out of the grasp.

“Get the fuck away from me!”, you yell. The hand retreats almost as fast as it landed, and squinting, you look up to identify the face.

“Whoa, easy there Hulk. It’s just me”, Natasha lets out as you readjust yourself in the sand to your previous position. Wordlessly she sits down next to you, making sure to keep a safe distance.

“Sorry”, you whisper so quietly you’re not even sure she heard it.

“It’s ok”, she responds softly. She lets the two of you sit in the silence, anticipating what you’re going to do next.

“How long have you been out here?” You shrug in a silent response. “What’s going on?”

Your mouth twitches as you stare at your feet. Shifting the sand in between your toes. “Nothing”, you lie. “I’m fine.” You hear her take a deep breath before she speaks again.

“Your dad called me, asked if I’d seen you at all.” Internally you scoff. You told him you’d be back, it’s like he won’t let you do anything now- “That was two hours ago”, she finishes her thought. Oh.

“I didn’t- I didn’t know.” You shake your head slightly. It had only felt like you’d been here for 10 minutes. How have you been here for longer than an hour? You don’t dare to look over, you know that the brown eyed gaze of your best friend is already looking you over in worry.

“It’s ok. Do you wanna head inside?” You squint at her words, confusion clouding your mind.

“Inside?”

“Yeah, just inside the-”, she stops mid sentence, redirecting her questioning, “Mantis, do you know where you are?” “I’m at the beach”, you respond flatly.

“Ok. Do you know which beach?” Swallowing, you look around for the first time since you arrived. There’s a lifeguard station with the number 6 on it just down to your right, and you can still hear the faint hum of cars from the road behind you. “That’s ok”, she lightly responds, deciding you do not actually know where you are. “Let’s go inside.”

She allows you to stand on your own, just knowing that you’d follow her. When you turn around, she directs the two of you to your right, and there it is. The Hard Deck. Somehow you had made it all the way from your home, down to the Hard Deck, without stopping. You fold your arms, keeping them close to you. Penny is already waiting at the back door, granting you a small smile as you walk up the couple steps to the bar. Phoenix stops you before you go in, placing a pair of sandals in front of you to step into. Huh, you didn’t even notice she was carrying those. It’s only after you step inside Penny’s sanctuary that you realize how bad your feet and legs hurt.

They sit you down at a table and slide you a glass of water. Neither moves to touch you, even as Penny sits down with you while Phoenix steps aside to call someone, presumably your father. You’re quiet as you stare at the grain of wood in the tabletop.

“Are you hungry, hun?”, she asks as you continue to stare at the table.“I can fix you something in the kitchen”, she offers as you glance up at her, giving a small shake of your head.

She sighs before starting again, “I know this probably isn’t what you want to hear right now, but when my dad started having flashbacks and nightmares, it really helped him to talk to someone. Got him an actual diagnosis which helped with treating it.” You furrow your brows as you cock your head slightly.

“Diagnosis for what?”

“PTSD”, she grimaces as she tries to cover it with a half smile. She probably thinks this is some work-related thing

“Oh- this isn’t, it’s not Navy-related”, you’re a little slow to correct. She sighs again and reaches her hand out for you before thinking better of it and placing it in her lap.

“Just because it doesn’t come from being in the Navy doesn’t mean it’s not real.” You clench your jaw and look away right as Phoenix finishes her phone call.

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

Nat drives you home in silence as you mull over Penny’s words. Was it really that obvious you had a nightmare? It just hadn’t happened in so long. You thought it wouldn’t come back. That she wouldn’t come back. She promised she wouldn’t be a part of your life, you guess that’s just her lingering charm that’s sticking around.

“What started it this time?”, she asks. You turn from staring out the passenger window and glance at her. The dream comes back to you in flashes, Bob’s hands on you, your lips over his, and then… You flinch slightly at the glimpse of her face in your head, the feeling of her grip.

“I don’t want to talk about it”, you respond lowly.

“OK”, she replies.

“How did you know where I was?”, you question as she spares you a look before turning back to the road.

“I was already out looking for you when your dad called and said Penny thought she saw you sitting on the beach. She wasn’t sure what you would do if she approached you, and I had to convince Mav not to book it down there himself.” You’re eternally grateful for Phoenix for knowing exactly what you needed in that moment.

“He’s just overreacting”, you try to shrug it off. She parks in front of your house, and you cringe at the blue Bronco in the driveway. So he really just called everyone, huh?

“Is he, Mantis?” She looks over to you, and you look down to your fingers for solace. Deciding you’re not up for a conversation you move on.

“Thanks for coming to get me.”

“I always will, you know that.” And you really do. Phoenix has been there more often than not to pick you up when you fall. She was the one person you could count on back at the Academy, and she’s been there for you ever since. Especially when you weren’t even sure you could trust your dad to let you stay in school. Even when she graduated two years before you and went on to flight school, she never kept out of touch.

She follows you up the steps to your door, and before you’re able to step one foot into your house, your dad is pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. You’re a little uncomfortable, and you’re sure anyone can read it on your face.

“Dad”, you wheeze, “Dad I’m fine.” He moves as you push him away, only to hold onto your upper arms.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”, he raises his voice, causing you to flinch. “Do you know how worried I was?” You didn’t actually see him before now, but Rooster is grabbing his arm, urging him to let you go.

“I’m sorry. I just- I needed to get out for a second.”

“A second? A second- You were gone for hours. You didn’t have your phone with you, didn’t have any shoes, you’re still in your pajamas for Christ’s sake!” With every word he throws at you, your brow furrows and your lip trembles a little more.

“Mav”, Rooster starts as he grabs your dad’s attention, “Ease up, man. You’re scaring her.” And even though he might be a little bit right, just the sound of his voice irritates you to no end. Him and his stupid Hawaiian shirt. A switch is flipped and you’re back to being angry again.

“No one fucking asked you Rooster. Why the hell are you even here?” He blinks at your sudden change, and shakes his head, trying to find an answer.

“Hey!”, your dad exclaims as he turns back to you with wide eyes. “He came over here because I was worried. I didn’t know if you went to someone else’s house, or were kidnapped, or god forbid, were hit by a car or worse!”

“Well obviously I’m fine.”

“I know that now. But it still doesn’t explain what you were doing for so long, or how you even ended up at the Hard Deck.”

“I told you I was going for a walk. And I don’t really think I need to explain myself to you.” You brush past the two of them without sparing a second glance, but you can hear your dad following after you.

“We are not done here!”, he yells up the stairs as you close the door to your room.

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

Bob is aimlessly walking around his kitchen as Sylvia stares on in confusion. They just got back from a run, and instead of resting like they usually do, he’s still pacing. He knows your dad told him to stay put, but if there was a chance that maybe he could find you while with Sylvia, he was gonna take it. He’s heard nothing from anyone since he first picked up the phone this morning, and that was hours ago. He’s starting to get really worried about you.

Deciding that walking around isn’t going to help anything, he decides to take a shower. He’s undressed, about to hop in when his phone starts ringing. He doesn’t even check who it is before he answers.

“Hello?”

“So you won’t answer my texts, but you’ll pick up a call? Good to know Floyd”, Phoenix’s voice echoes in his ear. He forgot all about them in the chaos of this morning.

“Is she ok?”, he immediately asks, ignoring her question. She sighs from the other end of the phone.

“She’s home and… she’s safe”, she utters as Bob takes a breath of relief.

“Is she ok though?”, he urges. She’s silent for a moment as he waits for an answer. “Phoenix?”

“It’s not that simple. She’s been through a lot.”

“She told me… about her mom.”

“She told you?”, Bob can tell by the shock in her voice you probably haven’t had the same kind of conversation with her. “She’s never actually said anything to me. Just that her mom wasn’t very nice. I kinda figured it out after we started rooming together and she’d wake up crying, just drenched in sweat. She wouldn’t let anyone touch her and- God I shouldn’t even be telling you this.” Bob hangs his head and nods as if she can see him. As much as he wants to know, he also knows that if you haven’t shared it with him yet it was probably for a reason.

“You’re probably right. Where- where did you find her though?”

“She made it all the way to the Hard Deck. Craziest thing is that she didn’t even know where she was.” Bob huffs out a breath and rubs his forehead. You seemed completely fine last night. And for some reason, he feels like he’s to blame. He didn’t stick around after to see if you were ok, or if you regretted any of it. God, he’s such a dick.

“Geez”, he breathes out.

“Yeah. Listen, just ignore my texts. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Bob’s grateful she’s thinking the same as him. What happened with Emily last night really doesn’t take precedent right now. He’s just so glad you’re home.

“Ok, see ya tomorrow.” And with that he ends the phone call. His shoulders slump as he turns the handle on the shower, the water runs as his mind is clouded with thoughts of you. Worried ones mostly.

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

The water is as hot as it can go as you wash the morning from you. Dirt from your feet makes the water murky as it swirls down the drain, the sweat from your nightmare and all the running is washed away as you clean yourself.

Stepping out, you quickly change into a clean set of clothes. Something comfortable, because you have a feeling you’re not going anywhere else today. Most likely back to bed to overthink your entire existence again. Taking your hair out of the towel, you move to wipe the fog off of the mirror, but you pause at the first swipe. Dark circles hang underneath your eyes, frame the face you wish didn’t belong to you

You’re tired. Your body, your mind, are all tired. You’re tired of trying to hold in your tears, of trying to be angry in order to cover up the fact that you are actually very scared of becoming the woman that you see in the mirror. Someone with the capability to ruin other people's lives. Falling to the floor with a thud, you allow yourself to cry. You barely hear the knock coming from your bathroom door, but you wipe your nose on your sleeve, and reach up to unlock the door.

Your dad is immediately on his knees in front of you as you reach out to him. His arms wrap around you securely as you sob harder into his shoulder.

“It’s ok sweetheart. I’m here”, he reassures you. “You’re ok. Just let it out.” You start to cry even harder at his words. You were so mean to him earlier, and why? Because you were mad at your mom? At yourself?

“I’m sorry”, you manage to speak through broken cries.

“Shh, hey. It’s ok. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I was just- so worried about you.” He rubs at the back of your head as you cry harder. He holds onto you a little tighter and you let him. It’s not suffocating or claustrophobic, it’s comforting. He’s somehow able to convey in his embrace that he’s not done fighting for you, that he’s sorry he ever let you down in the first place. “I got you”, he whispers as he kisses the top of your head.

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

You aren’t at work the next day. He should have expected it. After everything that happened he still hasn’t texted you. He wanted to reach out, but thought better of it. Knowing you, you might feel more embarrassed than anything if he brought attention to the fact that your dad called him. Even so, it feels… off. For the first time in weeks he doesn’t save a seat for you at lunch. And then out of the blue, as Phoenix sits down across from him, Rooster sets his lunch bag next to hers. He glances up with wide eyes as Rooster gives him a cordial smile

It’s quiet for a moment as the three of them dig into their food. As Bob reaches for a baby carrot, the table shakes. He moves to look up at Phoenix who is trying and failing to discreetly glare at Rooster. He can only assume the movement was her kicking him under the table. Rooster clears his throat, garnering Bob’s attention. He rubs his mouth before looking back at him.

“Listen, Bob, I’m really sorry about Saturday.” Oh this is where this is going.

“Oh, there’s no need to-”

“Yes”, Phoenix cuts in, “there is. Please continue, Rooster.” Rooster winces at her words, and ultimately turns back to Bob.

“Right. Um, turns out Emily thought she was being set up with me the entire time. Not you, which explains why- uh everything happened the way it did”, he chuckles awkwardly. “Anyway, so I’m sorry about that kind of wrecking your night.” Even though his glasses are sitting perfectly on his face, Bob pushes the bridge of his wire frames even further onto his nose as an excuse to distract himself from the awkwardness of this conversation.

“Listen, it’s fine. Really.”

“Bob”, Phoenix whines, “No it’s not. I’m sorry, too. Apparently I never even told her your name. Just that you were one of my friends, so she naturally assumed it was Rooster.” Emily was honestly the last thing on his mind since that night. It all seems so trivial since yesterday. He just wants to see you. Confirm with his own eyes that you’re alright. Right now it kind of feels like you fell off the face of the earth, even if he did see you two days ago. It was two days too long.

“Phoenix”, Bob levels, “It’s ok. I wasn’t putting too much pressure on anything working out anyway.” He starts to play with his food, kind of the same way you do whenever you’re uncomfortable. Just moving stuff around, never actually picking anything up to eat. He can’t help but have every thought wander back to you somehow. He wonders if you’ve maybe done the same thing about him, but he quickly rids himself of the thought. Why would you do that? Just because he overthinks and rethinks everything doesn’t mean you do, too.

Your hands are trembling as you open the car door and head into base. Not in a bad way. Not at all. You need to get in a jet. Need to feel some sort of control over anything in your life. In the air, that’s where you feel free. You have to be laser focused on what you are doing at all times, there is no voice in your head telling you to be better, or that you’re not good enough. If she had it her way you wouldn’t be there at all. The world of aviation is one where your mother’s voice is silent. She simply doesn’t exist. You’d like to keep it that way.

So yes, your hands are trembling. And you welcome it. It’s the incessant thumping of your heart against your rib cage as you get closer to the classroom that is bothering you. Bob. You haven’t seen or heard from him since Saturday. Since you kissed him. But this is a professional setting, one where under its rule you are not allowed to feel the way you do for him. Or him you, apparently. So, you’ll pretend for both your sakes that nothing happened. It’s the way it has to be. That way you can’t ruin his life. Can’t- won’t be like the one person you swear you would never end up like.

And then, right as you walk in the door, Bob’s eyes are on you. His cheeks pinken just the tiniest bit at the sight of you. But more than that, there’s a look of relief on his face. Before you can give him any kind of indication you notice him, his attention is being directed away by Fanboy. Deciding it’s best to let it slide, you walk past Nat on his other side, giving her a slight smile as she winks at you. And even though before the day even started you had decided to avoid looking at Bob, it is so damn hard as his profile sits right in front of you. Rooster’s still mandated to sit next to you, so his incessant breathing helps to distract you.

The rest of the day until lunch is entirely boring until you’re given your chance to get up in your jet. There’s the regular spiel from Maverick about which maneuvers you’re going to practice, and then there’s another storm warning. A so-called hurricane is supposed to sweep southern California over the weekend, so they’re trying to give everyone as much air-time as they can before it starts. Fine by you. You don’t even care that you’re paired with Hangman, that’s how badly you need to get back up there.

Settling into your seat, you take a deep breath in, and out. This is what you were made to do. There’s no other feeling quite like it in the world, and your hands tingle as you grab the yoke, just waiting for the all-go. The roar of the engine is so loud you can hardly hear your own thoughts. Just the way you like it. You twitch in anticipation before Hondo gives you the hand signal, waving you for take-off.

Before you know it, you’re back on the ground, and the next group is getting ready to go up. You stay close to your jet while Phoenix and Bob pass to get to theirs. You don’t notice his glance your way, but as you take a quick look he’s already climbing the ladder into his seat.

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

Bob isn’t exactly sure where the two of you stand at this moment. He knows that right now at work is not the best place to discuss any of it, but he also knows that he can’t go on pretending forever that Saturday night didn’t happen. And then there’s the fact that something happened on Sunday to set you off, so he decides he’ll just wait for you to approach him. He doesn’t want to add any more stress to your life, just glad you seem to be in better spirits. He still saves you a seat at lunch, but 10 minutes pass before he decides you’re not coming. Phoenix finally fills an empty seat across from him, and before he can ask where you are Fanboy takes the seat he is no longer saving for you.

“Ok”, Fanboy starts, “I’ve got all three Indiana Jones on blu-ray that I can bring over since those are the only ones that matter, you still ok to do it at your place?” Bob nods at the plans mindlessly, eyes staring down at his untouched plate of food.

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“You sure? Cause last time I was over your dog avoided me the whole time. She fucking hates, me dude.” Bob winces and holds back a small laugh.

“She doesn’t hate you. She’s just… shy.” He explains.

“It’s true”, Phoenix cuts in, “Although, the last time I saw her she finally let me pet her. It was amazing.” Bob smiles at her as he finally digs into his lunch. Sylvia had already taken a quicker liking to you than anyone else Bob has introduced her to. It’s kind of a shame she won’t be seeing you as often as he’d like anymore. And just as the thought of you pops into his head, he spots you walking over to another table. Damn it.

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

As much as you like talking to your dad, you absolutely despise having to go over what you missed yesterday. Which is why your lunch was cut approximately 15 minutes short today. He was nice enough to make lunches for the both of you today, so with your brown paper bag in hand, you make your way over to the mess-hall. You stop right after entering, trying to find an empty seat among the crowd. You spot Bob and your heart skips a beat. Fanboy is in your seat, and even though there’s an empty spot next to Phoenix, Payback sits down before you can move. It’s probably for the best. As much as it hurts, you need to stay as far away from Bob as possible. It’s the only way you know you can’t ruin his career. Or yours for that matter.

Taking in a deep breath, your eyes move to the corner of the room where the only empty seat remains. Great. Begrudgingly, you make your way over to the table and place your lunch before you as you sit. Rooster’s eyes widen as he slowly chews his bite of food at your action. He’s still staring at you as you open your bag. Rolling your eyes you finally decide to speak, “Don’t look so surprised.”

“Am I not supposed to be?”, he asks as he swallows his food. Exasperation crosses your face as you take a bite of your pb & j. You don’t even pay attention to him as you rip into your food, but you can still feel him watching you. “What?”, you ask with a mouth full of peanut butter.

“Nothing”, he shrugs as you raise your brow at him. He clears his throat before gingerly asking, “How are you feeling?” You squint your eyes and dust any crumbs from your hands before folding your arms across your chest.

“What is this? What are you doing?” He shrugs again.

“What? I can’t ask you how you are?”

“Why are you doing it though?”, you counter. He looks away as he mutters an explanation.

“I just- I want to see how you’re doing.”

“Really? Or do you just want to know if I’m going to blow up on you again? How about this: ask me how I’m feeling again and find out.” He guffaws at your cavalierness as you move back to eating. Although, he really shouldn’t be surprised anymore.

“Ok sheesh, Miss bossy”, he comments. He just really knows how to get on your nerves, first with Sunday, then with Emily, now this stupid nickname he used to call you when you were mad as a kid.

“Oh come on, with that little stunt you pulled with Emily you should be happy I haven’t ripped into you even more.”

“Listen, for your information I already apologized to Bob about that whole….”, he pauses to motion with his hands, “...ordeal. And Emily thought she was being set up with me so… I am not the one to blame here.”

“Oh yeah? And who is?”

“Ask Phoenix! The woman never even told her Bob’s name!”, he laughs as you give him a slight smile at the absurdness of the whole situation. It’s quiet for a beat as you ponder his explanation.

“She really didn’t tell her his name?”

“Not a damn letter. And the man only has three.” You breathe a small laugh at his comment as he shakes his head. And for a second the two of you sit there and smile, enjoying the playfulness you once shared as children. Which causes you to remember a nickname you haven’t heard in years that he uttered seconds ago.

“And by the way, it’s Lieutenant bossy now. Brad Brad.” He chuckles and shakes his head, the two of you coming to some sort of silent agreement. You feel like a kid again, in a good way this time. It almost makes you forget about the six foot WSO with the beaming blue eyes sitting tables behind you.

You somehow make it the whole day without a real interaction with Bob. You’ve caught fleeting glances of him, and he seems so… normal. Like nothing happened at all. It makes you nervous, even more so than usual. But, you keep telling yourself that it’s for the best. If the two of you ignore everything, life can go on. But there’s still the tiniest part of yourself that longs to know what he’s thinking. Wants to know him more than you do. Just another voice you have to try your best to shut off.

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

Bob can’t help but tap his foot as he waits for the day to start. If you weren’t going to say anything to him, he sure as hell wasn’t going to bring up anything to you. He checks the time on his watch. Five minutes before your usual start time, but you, Halo, and Phoenix aren’t here yet. He alternates looking at his watch, and glancing at the door as the room starts to fill in. It goes on for a couple more minutes until you finally enter. He’s nervous again. Overthinking every little thing, he averts his gaze before you get the chance to look at him. His boot is still hitting the floor even as you take your seat behind him.

“Floyd”, Hangman barks, “Leave the tapping to Fred Astaire, will ya?” Bob turns his head at his remark, giving him an embarrassed smile.

“Sorry”, he mutters before turning to your father at the front of the room. He spotted you out of the corner of his eye, about to say something to Hangman, but thinking better of it as Cyclone entered the room. You could almost hear everyone adjust in their seat to sit up straight as he made his way to the back of the room. After the dust settles and Maverick takes a second in between talking, Bob swears he can hear the quietest tapping of a pencil coming from your desk.

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

You’re not paired with Phoenix and Bob… again. Which you’re grateful for, you guess. But you also miss talking to your friends. Flying with them. It’s funny, really. You joined the Navy because you wanted to be like your dad, and you found aviation fascinating. And now, you’ve found your own community, your people. Even if it was one of the hardest things you’ve had to do, the first time you stepped foot in a jet you knew it was what you were meant to do.

You’re all back in the classroom after your first flights of the day, discussing once again what could have been done better. There’s all little tweaks Maverick suggests to everyone, not just you this time. And it feels good knowing you did a good job.

“All in all, great job everyone. Have a good lunch”, he excuses the group. You move to grab your stuff and head to the mess hall before your dad calls out for you. “Mantis, would you stay back for a second?” Nodding, you drop your stuff and take Phoenix’s seat in the front row as he rounds his podium.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing good”, you nod, “Feeling good.” He chews on your words for a second before double checking.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah”, you laugh, kind of annoyed at the moment. But you understand where he’s coming from, “Flying’s been helping. A lot.”

“Good. That’s good.” He moves back behind his podium, shuffling a couple of pieces of paper before opening a file. “Cyclone”, he starts as you tense at the name, “has been talking to me. About you.”

“Am I in trouble?”, you ask out of reflex.

“No”, he reassures you. “Quite the opposite actually.” Hanging his head, he looks down at the papers before him. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous. “He’s been keeping you in mind for something. Just wants to make sure you’re up for the challenge.”

“Another mission?”

“Looks like it”, his gaze is stern as he looks at the file, but as he looks back to you his eyes soften. “Are you going to be ok to do this?” With that look you know he’s not just asking as your Captain, he’s asking as your dad. Your eyes soften with his the slightest bit as you smirk.

“Always, old man.” He chuckles as you smile with him.

“Ok”, he shrugs, “Training for this one won’t start until this storm moves out. I’d expect an announcement from Cyclone sometime next week. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Will do, Captain.”

Your hands are trembling again as you navigate the halls to find a vending machine since you forgot to pack your own lunch this morning. It’s a good sort of nerves that make their way through your system. The training for the last mission was brutal, but good. It kept your mind off of anything of real importance. That’s just what you need right now. A distraction. Which is where your mind is at right now as your brain fills itself with incessant thoughts of what you need to do to prepare as well as a bag of chips, but you’re hitting something and falling to the floor before you can process what’s happening. The sound of a handful of what looks to be peanuts roll on the floor, but you can still hear an, “Oof”, through it all.

Your eyes widen as you look over to the man sitting on the floor in front of you. His eyes mirror your own as the two of you share the longest moment together since this past weekend. Shaking your head, you move to stand as he does.

“I’m so sorry Bob”, you start as he dusts himself off, “I didn’t see you.”

“That’s alright”, he rushes out as he looks over his almost empty bag of peanuts. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you either.” He’s trying his best not to look at you as he starts to pick each individual peanut off the floor. You rush to help him and he still doesn’t look your way.

“You don’t need to do that”, he tells you as the two of you clean the floor.

“I do, it’s my fault”, your hand is already full as you find the nearest trash can to throw the ruined peanuts away. You spot the vending machine he must have just bought them from, tucked in its own little hallway. Before he can stop you, you’re already checking to see if you have enough change before locating their spot in the case. There they are, B4.

“What are you doing?”, Bob complains as he throws his handful and the bag away. You continue to reach in your pocket, not bothering to answer him as he already knows exactly what you’re doing. “Mantis, c’mon. It’s ok. You don’t need to do that.” He watches you bite at your lip as you put in the first two quarters until all you’re left with is a penny. It’s obvious you were going to buy something for yourself. But he’s also pretty sure that the penny in your hand is the same one he slipped you in Phoenix’s kitchen, and the flick of your eyes to his as you clench your fist around it confirms his suspicions.

He swallows as you press the buttons on the machine. The spiral whirls as you give yourself the confidence to speak. Not look at him. Just speak.

“Bob, can we- can we talk?”. The bag drops to the bottom of the machine with a large thump, almost triggering the laughing of Hangman and Coyote as they walk through the hall behind him. He turns as they walk, his eyes wide as he looks back at you.

“Here?”, he whispers.

“No”, you whisper back as you glance over his shoulder. You bend to grab the bag, and grip it tightly before holding it before him, “Later.” You determine for the two of you. He reaches out to the clear bag of peanuts, accepting your offer as you walk around him and into the mess-hall.

Bob’s palms start to sweat as he watches your retreating form. He rounds the corner expecting to see you sitting with Rooster again, but there you are. Sitting at your usual seat next to his vacant one. He stops in his tracks, surprised at your actions, but quickly moves back to the table. Phoenix shoves her own bag of chips your way as you accept with a gracious smile. Your ability to switch mindsets so quickly baffles him as he sits next to you with a smile. The same kind of one you return to him, the ones that don’t quite reach your eyes. He’s not gonna make it through this conversation.

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

Bob’s house has never been this daunting to look at. The white shingles are practically taunting you as you sit in your car. You don’t even know how long you’ve been sitting there, just delaying the inevitable. You immediately changed into some regular clothes after getting home, but sat on your bed for a good 45 minutes working up the courage to drive over here. And even then your car took a few minutes to get started. The voice in the back of your head told you it was a sign that you shouldn’t even bother coming over, but you knew that was an even worse idea than talking about what happened. Getting up the nerve, you vacate your car, and make it halfway up his driveway before a voice stops you in your tracks.

“Oh finally.”

“Rich, don’t be rude. She can probably hear us.” Turning your head, you find two men, probably ten or so years older than your dad, sitting on the front porch just to the right of Bob’s home. One’s got a mug of what you assume to be coffee in his hands, while the other nurses a glass of what looks to be wine. They’re both taken aback as you squint at them in the setting sun. “I’m so sorry about him, I told him to go light on the chardonnay, but…”, shrugging, he rolls his eyes at the other man.

“Oh, it’s ok”, you brush them off. Moving to take another step, his voice stops you again.

“It’s just, we were wondering why you were sitting there for so long”, the one you assume to be Rich pipes up. You suppose you were warned he hasn’t a filter this evening, but your eyes still widen the tiniest bit at his remark.

“Leave the poor girl alone.” Rich waves the other man off, turning back to you.

“We hardly see anyone coming or leaving that boy’s house, but we saw you leaving in a rush the other weekend and were just wondering-”

“We were not wondering anything, because we are not Bob’s nosey neighbors. Those are the ones on the other side of him, the Terrance’s.” You try your hardest to stifle a laugh as they continue to gossip.

“Oh do not get me started on the Terrance’s. ‘Oh Richard’”, he mocks, “‘It is against HOA policy to have a flag hanging in your window.’” You take a look around the well manicured neighborhood, taking note of flag poles proudly displaying the American Flag.

“But you can have a flagpole?” You ask.

“It’s not where it was that was the problem”, Rich responds, “She just did not want to see our beautiful rainbow among the red, white, and blue. That same red, white, and blue we served under, for her information!” The more level-headed one of the two reaches a hand out to Rich in an attempt to calm him. It pushes him further into his seat, and he takes a swig from his glass.

“Easy now, Miss-”, he turns to you as you’re taken out of your spectator seat in the conversation.

“Mitchell”, you reply. He smiles, and turns back to Rich who’s brow is set in a furrow.

“Miss Mitchell here probably has more important things to attend to with Bob”, he emphasizes, catching Rich’s attention,”Than sitting here listening to our quarrels with the neighbors.” As he moves his hand to motion over to Bob’s house, you take notice of the class ring on his finger, the ring that looks all too familiar to the one collecting dust in your closet.

“Do you?”, Rich asks, distracting you from the ring on the other man’s finger.

“Rich!”, he chides.

“I do- actually”, you shy away, remembering why you came over here in the first place. “But it was really nice meeting you-?”

“Oh how rude of me, I’m Harry, and this is my husband Rich”, he motions as Rich nods at you.

“Well, it was very nice meeting you Harry, and Rich”, you smile as you turn back toward the house. Taking a deep breath you move toward the front door. Clenching your fist in your hand, you raise it hoping it will knock on the door of its own volition, but you’re not sure if you’re ready. Screw it, you’re already kinda mad at him. He’s the one who left you and then ignored you at work! You never should have kissed him, even if you long to do it again and again.

“Do you think she’s gonna take longer on the porch than in the car?”, Rich asks in a poor attempt to whisper.

“No”, Harry gives in, “I think her arm will get tired by then.” Turning your head, Harry gives you a sad attempt at trying to look apologetic.

“I’m starting to think you’re just as bad as your husband!”, you shout from across the porch.

“I’m sorry!”, Harry shouts back, “This is the most exciting thing to happen to this neighborhood since Patty down the street got divorced!” You laugh through your nose, only turning back to the task at hand when the sound of the lock alerts you to Bob opening the door. You stare up at his ocean eyes as he blinks at the sight of you. Those same eyes flash in your mind from Saturday night, blinking rapidly before he-

“Hi”, he whispers. The raspiness of his voice catching you off guard.

“Hi”, you whisper back. His gaze moves to your still raised fist, and ever so slowly it moves back to your side. Without meaning to, your eyes fall to his pink lips and the feeling of his body against yours has you shaking the memory out of your head.

“Can I come in?”, you gently ask.

“Of course”, he responds, quickly moving out of the way to let you in. You’d usually slip your shoes off at the door, and as much as you want to spend longer with Bob, you’re pretty sure this is going to have to be a swift conversation. Just ripping the band-aid off.

Bob leads you further into the house, and soon enough you spot the fluffy black and white tail you’ve come to know and love. He must see you smile at the sight of her, because before you’re able to do anything about it, Bob is calling her over. “Syl, your best friend is here”, he taunts. Her head rises to rest on the cushion, and once she catches your eye she’s trotting over as you bend to pet her.

“Oh hey you sweet girl”, you praise her as she rolls on her back. Once her dad takes a seat on the couch, she’s up to grab his attention instead. You follow behind her, and for the first time, you are uncomfortable in Bob Floyd’s presence. It’s not even his fault, it’s your own. You watch him smile at her, scratching behind her ears until his hand stalls.

“Why are you ignoring me at work?”, you start. Taking in a deep breath, he sighs as he fidgets with his fingers. God damn those hands.

“ I could ask you the same thing”, he retorts, “But if I’m being honest I didn’t want to cause you any more stress than you were already dealing with. I thought that maybe if you wanted to talk you would come to me.” Stress? What stress- unless.

“Wait a second, what do you mean what I’m dealing with?” He hesitates before answering, still not looking at you.

“Your dad called me on Sunday.”

“Oh Jesus Christ”, you relent, “I had one bad day, I am fine now. I just wasn’t sure how to talk to you about”, you motion between the two of you with one hand, “this.” Bob’s staring up at you from beneath his glasses, that same look of pity everyone always looks at you with once they know. “See”, you point at him, “Right there. That is why I don’t tell anyone anything.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you to pity me, or feel bad for me”, you huff.

“It’s not pity, Mantis. It’s worry. I worry about you”, he explains as your heart drops in your chest.

“If you really worry about me, then why did you leave me?”, you question. There’s the slightest tremble in your voice, one that most people wouldn’t pick up on. But Bob isn’t most people. He’s on his feet immediately at your words, slowly making his way over to you.

“I panicked. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to get you in trouble, I guess. And I just ran.” You feel for him deep down, your own panic had taken hold of you. It just didn’t present itself until you fell asleep.

“I’m sorry, too. For waiting this long to talk to you. And for kissing you.” His brows crinkle as he cocks his head.

“You’re sorry for kissing me?”

“I didn’t- I shouldn’t have done it.” Bob is quick to interject. He knew it. He knew it all along that you only kissed him because you felt bad for him.

“No, I shouldn’t have said anything. I never wanted to make you feel like you had to do anything you didn’t want to do.”

“Bob, I never said I didn’t want to do it. I just- I shouldn’t have acted on my feelings. I cannot stand to ruin your career, your life. I can’t.” His breathing just about stops, but he uses any oxygen he has left to swiftly correct you.

“How would you ruin it? I mean- you’ve already made it so much better.”

“Bob”, you sigh, “I will not let you give up your career. Or mine for that matter, over stupid feelings.”

“So my feelings are stupid?”, you glance back up at him as he furrows his brow at your insinuation.

“No! That’s not what I meant. Mine are.” You’re starting to wring your hands, it’s obvious you’re not getting your point across as eloquently as you would like.

“Well, what are your feelings? I told you how I felt, you never returned the favor.”

“Probably because you were already gone before I had the chance to say anything!” You argue. He frowns at your words, knowing it was a bad move on his part. “And it doesn’t even matter, Bob. It can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t ruin you! I can’t be selfish!”, you finally yell. He’s taken aback as you breathe heavily in front of him. It doesn’t even matter what he thinks, you look like you’re on the verge of another panic attack, so as slow as he can he walks up to your heaving form. He ever so slowly reaches out to your shoulders, and with a nod from you, he wraps you in his strong arms. You’re quick to wrap your own around him. His embrace is so warm, like finally being wrapped in a blanket after being out in the freezing cold for so long, only this time you know the cold is just waiting outside his front door to encase you once you leave. But you let yourself hug him, for the sake of getting to do it one last time.

“I can’t do that to you, Bob”, you whisper into his shoulder. He takes a step back and your arms fall from each other. He moves to push a piece of loose hair behind your ear absentmindedly as his thumb caresses the apple of your cheek. “We can’t give each other what we want.”

“You haven’t even told me what you want”, his deep voice whispers as he gazes at your face, almost as if trying to memorize every inch and freckle.

“You already know”, his eyes flick back between yours at your whispered words. Your faces are already so close to each other. All it would take was a simple push from either one of you to be kissing again. You exhale a shaky breath, and before either of you can do anything, Bob’s jumping away from you again at the sound of the doorbell. Sylvia is retreating up the stairs at the noise, and Bob realizes who it is.

“Shit”, he curses under his breath.

“Who is it?” Bob stands there staring at you, wincing as Fanboy’s voice carries from the hall to the living room.

“I hope you don’t mind man, the door was open. And I brought pizza!”, lo and behold Fanboy is walking into the living room a little surprised to see you there as you give him the fakest smile you can muster. “Hey Mantis, are you here for movie night?”

“Of course! Why else would I be here?”, you grit through your teeth as you turn to Bob. He’s avoiding your gaze as he takes a dvd from Fanboy to get it all set up.

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

So here you are. Sitting on one end of Bob’s couch while he is on the other, Fanboy sitting in between the two of you. Completely clueless. He takes his third slice of pizza from its place on the coffee table, then leans back into the couch as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. You’ve been sitting watching Raiders of the Lost Ark long enough that Indy and Marion have made their initial escape, and are now sailing away, comfortable as she starts kissing him better. From the corner of your eye, you spot Bob shifting slightly in his seat as you do the same. Fanboy is perfectly content, sitting against the cushions as the two of you think about the other night. And what was about to happen before he showed up.

Your eyes are taken off the screen as a shrill ringing comes from Mickey’s pocket.

“Sorry”, he mutters as he takes it out. “Oh shit, it’s my mom.” He stands as he moves to the front door, yelling on his way out, “Pause it for me, will ya?” Bob does as he asks and the two of you don’t make any motion to move. He stares at the frozen screen, of Indy and Marion being so intimately close together before he speaks.

“Would you do it again?” You look over to him as he stares ahead, and then back to the screen.

“Bob”, you shake your head, “We can’t, you know the rules-”

“I didn’t ask if you could. I asked if you would. If you would want to.” You’re left staring at Bob with a blank face as he takes a deep breath in, anticipating your answer. His jaw clenches as you give the slightest nod of your head. You can’t lie to Bob. Along with the feeling of safety he encases you in every time you’re with him, the fact remains you can’t lie to him, and that scares the absolute hell out of you.

“Would you?”, you whisper, unconsciously glancing at his lips. His eyelids flutter at your movement and he swallows.

“Yes”, it comes out more as a breath than an actual response, but you understand it nonetheless. You look away from him, the weight of his gaze knowing you both want the same thing too much for you to handle. The hand that was fiddling with the rip in your jeans moves to settle where Fanboy once sat. You can see it out of the corner of your eye as Bob slowly moves to rest his hand next to yours, almost as if he’s scared you’ll move away if he gets any closer. His hand only rests next to yours until he reaches his pinkie out to sit right against yours, testing the waters. You ignore this altogether, reaching your hand to clasp over his, squeezing as he squeezes back just as softly. It has been too long since the two of you held hands, and you couldn’t go one more minute without the feeling of his large hand encasing yours.

Turning his head, the two of you watch your hands as he rubs his thumb over the back of yours. You look towards him completely and chew your lip as he brings his gaze back to your face. And like the two of you are magnets, completely attracting one to the other, you slowly move your faces closer and closer. You can feel his breath on your face, your hand still over his as he squeezes it tighter until- the sound of Mickey slamming the front door closed jolts the two of you back to your ends of the couch. Your heart is beating out of your chest as you stare straight ahead at the tv, it’s gone black now from being paused for too long as you try to focus on the bouncing logo. Saved by the damn bell, you guess.

Mickey slumps back into the couch with a quick apology and the movie starts back up. Almost as soon as he sits down, you’re on your feet. Met with two pairs of wide eyes, you give a brief smile to Mickey.

“I have to go home”, you rush out with an apologetic smile.

“What?”, Mickey asks, “The movie’s not even over yet.”

“I know, but my dad’s waiting for me. You know how it is”, you attempt to excuse yourself.

“No I don’t actually, because I’m not in High School anymore and I don’t have a curfew”, he laughs. Your dad didn’t technically have a curfew for you, but after your little walk on Sunday, he did tell you he’d like to be in bed by a certain time. And he was most definitely going to wait up until you got home. Shrugging, you make your way around the back of the couch until Bob shoots up out of his seat.

“I’ll walk you to your car”, he urges. He follows you to the front porch, and softly closes the door behind you. The sun has long set by now and the only thing you can hear is crickets chirping. You can’t help but find the parallel to the last time you were outside on a night like this… with Bob. Only this time, you’re sure you are going to go home knowing that Bob can only be your friend, your teammate. He stops short of his lawn as you turn around.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at work?”, you ask with a sad smile. He gives you the same one back, the good old courtesy ones you were so sure you were done seeing him give to you. He nods as you move to walk to your car, but the feeling of his large hand encasing your fingers and slightly tugging has you spinning back around and into his chest. While still holding your hand, his other moves up to your face, his calloused thumb rubbing back and forth over your cheek.

“Tell me to stop and I will. I’ll let you go and I won’t ever do this again.” His blue eyes bore into yours as your heart picks up speed. And you know you shouldn’t, but right now you just can’t care to give a damn.

“Don’t you dare”, you whisper. His lips are on yours immediately as your hands tingle, moving to touch him wherever you can. He hums in surprise as your hand moves up to run through his hair. With one hand still on your face, the other slides from your hand to your waist as he pulls you closer against him. Your lips are moving so fast against each other, it’s hard to discern who deepens it, but you don’t really care as his tongue slides against your own. He’s kissing you like a man starved, and you know you’re just as hungry for him as you pull him against yourself.

It’s almost a mirror of the other night as you start walking backward, hitting the passenger side door of his truck this time. You can’t help but whine into his mouth as his hand slides to the side of your neck, just the feeling of his hand on your bare skin is enough to have you seeing stars. With your free hand, you run your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him impossibly closer to you. With an “oomph”, he allows himself to press his body completely against your own. The pressure sends a tingle down your spine, and you’re quite positive that if he wasn’t holding you up, you’d be melting into a puddle at the feeling.

Reflexively, your hips move forwards to meet his as he sighs against your mouth. Allowing himself to take a miniscule break, resting his forehead against your own.

“Please”, he pleads as his lips graze yours. And even though the kiss is just about over, you know what he’s asking. “Just- just one more”, and who are you to not give into the pleadings of a man who wants exactly what you do? This is not what you came over here to do, but you kiss him with fervor anyway, as his spit-slicked lips meet your own once again.

If you weren’t so distracted with the passion fueled meeting of your lips, you’d almost think his belt buckle was hitting your pelvis. But you know for a fact as your fingers tighten in his belt loops that he’s not wearing a belt. And that’s how you know this is affecting him just as much as it is you. Oh god.

Almost as if he knows what you’re thinking, and just how turned on you are, he moves so his thigh is slotted in between your own. He must feel you clench your thighs around his muscled one. And the pressure just feels so good, causing you to whine one last time against his mouth before separating and resting your forehead against his chest. As much as you want to keep going, you know you need to end it before you go too far. Or before you get arrested for public indecency. Then again, you’ve already gone much farther than you should have with Bob.

“You ok?”, he breathes as he rubs at your neck, a hint of his southern twang peaking out with the ask. You’re still breathing heavily, but Bob feels you nod against him.

“Uh huh”, you muster before you look up at him. Clearing your throat, the two of you don’t break eye contact until you look to his pink lips, swollen thanks to you. You rub any remainder of yourself off of his mouth with your thumb before looking back into his wide-eyed blues. Your hand lingering on his face. “I’ll um- see you at work tomorrow?”

Bob can only nod, knowing full well that this was a goodbye of some sorts. Not as friends, not as teammates, but as whatever could have been. You would be remiss if you didn’t take advantage of this opportunity, so you do. With the gentlest touch of your lips against his, a stark contrast to what you were doing seconds ago, you drop your hand from the slight stubble of his jaw.

“I’ll see you tomorrow”, he whispers. You nod at him this time, deciding to not give him a smile you both know is fake. Slipping out of his arms, his hand lingers on your arm as you walk toward your car, until your fingers fall from his. He watches as you go, and takes a moment to stare up at the night sky with his hands on his hips.

That was a little more hot and heavy than he thought it was going to be, so he takes a moment to collect himself before walking back inside and pretending absolutely nothing happened. Taking his glasses off with one hand, he runs a hand over his face with the other. He forces himself to think of anything but you, baseball stats, mowing the lawn, picking up after Sylvia. That seems to help cool him down as he darts back up to the front door.

“What I wouldn’t give to be kissed like that.” Bob’s head whips over to his right, and takes note of Harry sitting on his front porch, taking a sip from his cup of coffee, sudoku puzzle to his side.

“Oh God”, Bob mumbles as he turns back to his house, not bothering to say anything else to the man.

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

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sunflowersandsapphires · 9 months

Text

Why You Gotta Tempt My Trouble?

Of Oak and Ivy, Chapter 1

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: In college, Matt Murdock had two best friends, Foggy Nelson and you. However, life had no intention of letting you graduate with him. When he reconnects with you in adulthood, he is troubled to see the hand God has dealt you and vows to use every tool at his disposal to save you from damnation.

warnings: swearing, sickly sweet fluff, get ready for some pining y'all.

a/n: Here's the first chapter of the college fic! The next one won't be posted until I've written a few more (which might be a while because I'm trying to make them longer and I'm only one chapter ahead at the moment.) Please let me know if you like it and want to see more or be added to the taglist! Words of Affirmation is my shit and life is really tearing me down right now. Also huge thank you to @firefly-graphics for the beautiful divider!

w/c: 5.3k

Digging the heels of your hands into your eyes, you resisted the urge to bang your head on the counter you sat at in an attempt to reboot the organ. This passage made no damn sense and you had mere days to understand it and conform to its ideals in order to do well in the class that it was assigned to. Biting your lip, you flipped back a few pages to start the chapter over for the third time when the sound of someone clearing their throat nearly startled you out of your seat.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, I didn’t see you!” Saving your place in the worn book, you looked up to find a young man standing before you. He was handsome, with fluffy, inky locks and a charming smile on his lips.

“That’s alright, I, uh, can’t quite fault you there.” He smiled sideways at you, gesturing to the opaque rectangular frames on his nose. Your mouth formed an “O” shape before you tripped over your response.

“I want to laugh but that feels wrong. Is it more rude to laugh or not laugh? Oh god, forget I said that, I—“

The boy in front of you chuckled. “It’s quite alright, and it was meant to be a joke.”

“Right, well, sorry again. How can I help you?” You clasped your hands, tilting your head as you waited for his response.

“I was wondering if you had braille copies of any of these textbooks?” As he posed the question, the handsome boy passed you a list of the textbooks he was looking for.

Looking over the document, you pursed your lips. “That is a fantastic question that we will have to answer together. I wish I knew off the top of my head, but today's only my third day on the job.” You cringed, wishing your manager was here.

“I imagine it’s not a common question, so I won’t hold it against you.” There was that charming smile again. Your insides felt like they were slowly melting under his grin.

“That’s, um, very kind of you.” You stammered out, feeling heat flood your cheeks.

“Matt.” He broke in. “Matt Murdock. And you are..?”

Offering your name, you dutifully turned back to the index, scanning the pages for any clue as to where braille copies would be stocked.

“That’s a pretty name, it suits you.” Your fingers halted in their dance across the page, your eyes flitting back to the gorgeous customer.

“As much as I appreciate that, turning up the charm won’t change the fact that it might take a minute for me to find these.” Your eyes narrowed as you became skeptical of his intentions.

“Take your time. It’ll give me more time to get to know you.” The flirty grin never faltered on Matt’s face.

“Oh you’re trouble.” You shook your head, thumbing through the pages of the file before you. “I’m starting to think I should search on my own.”

Matt just laughed, leaning forward on his white cane and grinning at you. “Where should we start?”

“I have a couple ideas.”

You and Matt searched far and wide for accessible copies of the textbooks he needed. While they—thankfully—did exist, they were scattered throughout the store haphazardly, not in either location the index had suggested. The lack of care and attention the volumes had gotten was making you progressively more irritated. There was absolutely no reason these books should’ve been treated with such disrespect, even if they weren’t commonly asked for.

After finding all but one book on his list, it was barely past store closing. Locking the door with a huff, you clocked out before joining Matt where he was seated on the ground by the first shelf.

“I hate to say this, but I think we might need to order you a new copy.” You remarked with a frown, scuffing your shoe along the faded carpet on the bookstore’s floor.

Matt, whose pleasant personality hadn’t dimmed despite the lackluster findings, simply chuckled, knocking his shoulder into yours.

“Well, we gave it the old college try, so to speak.” He waggled his eyebrows at you above his dark glasses.

You groaned, but couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped your throat. Despite your intense introversion and social awkwardness, Matt put you at ease.

“Sorry, my roommate is rubbing off on me.” He gave an exaggerated grimace.

“Is he a law student too?”

“Yep. Foggy Nelson. The three of us might actually have some classes together.” Matt’s face lit up with the idea. You’d confessed during your hunt that you had already purchased your own copies of many of the books on his list. Given that you were both first year law students, it made sense that you’d be in classes with one another, but you felt a weight lift off your chest nonetheless.

“Honestly, that makes me feel so much better. I’m incredibly nervous.” You confessed, focusing on a fraying patch of carpet underneath your sneaker.

“I’m sure you’ll do great.” Matt leaned against you, focusing on you in a way that made your chest flutter.

“See you say that not knowing how long it’s taking me to get through the first reading assignment for Legal Methods.” You dropped your head into your hands, remembering the cursed passage from earlier.

“Foggy mentioned something about that book. It’s…outdated?”

“That’s an understatement. The first chapter is about a famous eugenics case, Buck v Bell, and I might be reading it wrong but it seems like the author is suggesting that we don’t have ableism that resembles that of the case in current day? I was getting so frustrated reading it that I honestly couldn’t tell if it was confusing or just a stupid argument.” You explained.

“It’s in the McKinnon book, right? If you want, we could read it together and try to figure it out? Unless you have somewhere else to get to…” Matt Murdock, the charming, unswayable man you’d met a few hours ago blushed at the question, making you grin.

“I would love to hear your opinion on the text, Mr. Murdock. We can start an unofficial study group.”

“I like the sound of that. Let’s crack open this shit show.” Matt let you pull him off the ground and over to your work station where he opened his own copy of the text and began to read.

A few hours and more than a few boxes of takeout later, you and Matt were still working your way through the chapter, though you’d both decided with certainty that the text was more angering than confusing.

“If the professor is as ableist as this author, I’ll never be able to pass this class.” You grumbled, shoving the hellish book away from you. “There’s no way I can pretend that eugenic ideals have disappeared, even for a better grade.”

“Seriously. I’m hoping it’s supposed to make us mad so we can argue about it? Though I seriously doubt everyone will be on our side, unfortunately.” Matt scowled.

“Well, at least we have each other, right?” The man in front of you perked up with that comment, but you hurriedly corrected yourself. “And your roommate, of course.”

Deflating slightly, Matt scratched the back of his neck. “Speaking of, I should probably get back so he doesn’t send out a search party. I’ll see you in class?”

“See you then, trouble maker.” You murmured, smiling softly at him.

“Have a good night, sweetheart. Get home safe.”

“You too.”

A few days later, your evening with the sweet law student had fallen to the back of your mind as nerves about your first semester of classes set in. Fidgeting with your outfit in the mirror, you inhaled a shaky breath.

“Stop worrying, you’ll be fine!” The voice of your roommate, Jen, rang out across your shared loft making your brow furrow.

“Easy for you to say! You’ve done this before.” You groused, still examining your reflection. Jen was an old friend of yours who had lived down the street from you growing up. The two of you had been practically inseparable since elementary school, despite the fact that she was two years older than you.

“Jen’s right, you know.” Oscar, Jen’s long-term boyfriend and your unofficial second roommate, squeezed your shoulder on his way to the kitchen. “Everyone is going to be nervous, so they won’t have time to judge you.”

“Yah, yah. I appreciate the votes of confidence but, unfortunately, my anxiety and I have to hit the road. I would rather not be late.”

“Have fun!” Oscar called as you grabbed your bag.

“You’re gonna kill it!” Shouted Jen as you exited the apartment.

You shook your head, hoping they were right, and set off for your first ever Columbia Law class.

The trek across campus was pretty and the walk helped you calm your racing thoughts. The walkways were littered with other first year students who looked more clueless than you—including a blond boy with a kind face who was staring quizzically at a kiosk in front of him that was plastered with event flyers.

He muttered to himself for a moment before reaching to the side of the kiosk obscured from your view and tugging on the arm of someone beside him. “Ok dude, according to this map we should be heading…” He paused, squinting at the paper he was reading before dramatically pointing left. “West!”

“That’s East.” You chuckled, walking over to inspect the map for yourself. As you neared the misguided fellow, your eyes widened as you recognized his friend. “Matt?”

Laughing brightly and greeting you, Matt tugged free of the other man’s grip and strode over to you. “Are you following me?” He narrowed his eyes at you but his tone remained playful.

Shoving him, you scoffed. “You wish, Murdock. I was going to warn your friend here that the upperclassmen usually put up fake maps as a prank on the first day of classes.”

“Thank god we have someone to warn us of their cruelty, or we’d be dead meat!” The blond spun around and bowed in front of you. “Franklin Nelson, at your service m’lady. You can call me Foggy”

You giggled, introducing yourself. “It’s such a shitty prank. Thankfully, I have roommates who are in their third year and they showed me around weeks ago. Where are you headed?”

“Greene Hall.” Matt informed you.

“Oh, that’s where I’m headed too! Civil Procedure? With Professor McGuiness?”

“The very same! We’re damn lucky to have run into you.” Foggy sighed, shaking his head.

“It’s this way, and we aren’t too far. We’ll probably get there early.”

“That’s good because this one,” Foggy stuck a thumb at Matt, “Has this idea that we need to sit in the front if we don’t want to fail. I’d be perfectly fine sitting in the last row and never being called on once!”

“Studies show that sitting in one of the first few rows increases retention!” Matt elbowed his roommate who just snorted.

“Retention schmention. I say we sit by the cutest people in the class and have them tutor us when we inevitably fail.” Foggy winked at you and you laughed.

Matt squeezed your arm, leaning closer to you. “I think that can be arranged regardless.”

Heat rose in your cheeks as his flirtatious grin made a reappearance. “Oh shut up, trouble maker, or I’ll sit in the very last row just to spite you.”

“We wouldn’t want that.” Matt held out an arm, “Mind walking me to class, sweetheart?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned to Foggy. “How do you put up with him? You’re a Saint, truly.” But you took Matt’s arm anyway, ensuring that you were keeping a steady pace and avoiding anything he might trip over.

The walk to your first law class was, eventful, to say the least. Matt and Foggy were clearly soulmates of a sort, with their nonstop bantering and the way they balanced each other out. Foggy was a ray of sunshine, while Matt was more comfortable in the shadows, so to speak. The blond was all loud declarations and bright smiles, while Matt was more low toned flirting and quiet observations. They were both incredibly intelligent, overly sarcastic, and had a flair for the dramatic. You were ecstatic to have stumbled into their lives.

Matt had successfully cajoled the both of you into sitting with him in the second row, a compromise which Foggy considered a huge win. As students filed in, you subconsciously fiddled with your shirt, suddenly feeling incredibly insecure about your presence in this classroom. A gentle hand grabbed your wrist, making you jump.

“Relax,” Matt whispered. “You look fine, trust me.”

“How do you know?” You murmured nervously.

“Those boys a few rows behind us are staring.” Matt’s smile remained, but his voice held a tension you couldn’t quite place. “And the TA is trying very hard not to.”

“How on earth can you tell that?” You raised an eyebrow at him, incredulous.

“Matt is seriously like some sort of super powered being. He has the greatest intuition of anyone I’ve ever met. Best to trust him about these things.” Foggy nodded solemnly, clearly trying not to burst out laughing.

You simply rolled your eyes, pulling your notebook from your bag. Opening it to the correct page, you stifled a giggle as Foggy leaned over Matt’s lap to whisper-yell at you.

“Why do you already have notes written? Matt, why does she already have notes written?”

“I like to come prepared. I took notes on the first few chapters of the book.”

“But we didn’t even have an assignment for this class!”

“Yah, but I was bored at work and I thought I’d get a head start.” You just shrugged but Foggy glared at you, shaking a finger in your face.

“You’re gonna make the rest of us look like slackers! You, missy, have some apologizing to do.”

“For doing my due diligence?” You laughed.

“Yes! For being too proactive. I think you owe us a tutoring session or two.” Foggy crossed his arms with a huff.

“You have no idea if I even know what I’m doing, these notes could be gibberish!” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Nope, it’s good material. I can tell. You owe us. Doesn’t she, Matt?” Foggy elbowed his roommate who smirked.

“I think he might be right, sweetheart. What would you say to being the leader of our study group.” Matt tilted his head, focusing on you.

“Do I have a choice?” You sighed.

“No!” Foggy exclaimed at the same time Matt responded, “Not really.”

“Then I accept, but I want my objection noted.”

“It’s all in the record, don’t worry.” Foggy waved a hand, turning his attention back to the front of the room as the Professor walked to the front.

The rest of the week went similarly, as you had three of four classes at the same time as Matt and Foggy. They made great company, so you could hardly complain, but it was the first meeting of your “unofficial official study group” (as Foggy had dubbed it) and you were quite nervous.

You were fairly confident that you knew what you were talking about, but the idea of being the backbone for two other grades besides your own was quite stressful. Not to mention the jittery feeling you got every time your brain reminded you that you’d been in Matt’s room with him for an extended period of time. You chided yourself, Matt—though he was incredibly flirty—was one of the best friends you’d ever had, and you’d be damned before you jeopardized that because you were touch-starved and more than a little thirsty.

Taking a deep breath to keep your antsy libido in check, which was getting increasingly difficult given the fact that you were sitting atop Matt’s bed practically cuddled against him, you turned your focus to the space in front of you for a moment of redirection.

The room was small, a standard dorm room with two long skinny bed frames that held stiff foam mattresses, two identical desks with chipped paint and lumpy rolling chairs, and a bolted-shut window. Although the room was dim and cramped, the view was gorgeous, overlooking a rectangular patch of grass framed with lush green trees and the distant Manhattan skyline, bright with yellow lights against the black of the atmosphere.

Shifting your focus to the inside of the room, you smiled at the dichotomy on full display. While it was clear both boys had cleaned in preparation for your visit, Foggy’s side of the room was haphazardly straightened, with loose socks peeking out from underneath the bed and a handful of stray candy wrappers still visible atop his desk. Matt’s half of the space was meticulously organized, complete with braille labels. It was clear that everything had its place.

A shoulder nudged yours and you choked on a breath in your haste to turn towards the presence beside you. Matt smirked, but a small crease was present between his brows. “You ok? You stopped reading…”

“Yup!” You squeaked, clearing your throat and trying again. “Yes, sorry. Got distracted by your view.” Which was mostly true...

“Is it nice? Foggy’s never told me.” Matt grins sideways at you, furrow on his smooth skin fading.

“It’s…stunning. There’s a lot of green up front, with the lawn and plants and whatnot, but the red brick buildings contrast beautifully. And behind campus you can see the rest of the city, like we’re in an urban valley almost. It’s not like anything I’ve ever seen.”

“It sounds pretty. You should describe more sights for me, sweetheart. You’re good at it.”

Heat ran up your face at the compliment, pulsing in your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Turning from the window, you found your chest settling calmly as you studied Matt’s face. You’d never been this close to him and it was startling how easily his innocuous expression stirred up emotions in you.

He had the slightest shadow of stubble gracing his sharp jawline. As you ran your eyes along his face, you found yourself lingering on the beautiful hazel eyes, nearly blocked by his dark glasses. The blank, honey-bronze orbs held more emotion than you’d ever seen in someone’s expression. In the small time you’d known Matt, you found yourself constantly moved by his passion—for his city, for justice, for Foggy, even for you.

“So can we get back to the precedent of Buck v. Bell or are you just gonna stare lovingly at Matt all night?” Foggy smiled sweetly at you but the glint in his eyes made it clear he was annoyed.

“I wasn’t—I mean I—“ You sputtered, scootching farther away from Matt in an effort to conceal your obvious crush.

“Whatever. It’s late and I’d like to finish soon. Precedent?” Foggy prompted, pointing to his textbook.

“Well, the main point is that disabled and institutionalized individuals were no longer considered to have the same rights as other people.” Matt huffed, thumbing through his textured pages.

“Right. And the opinion implies that losing rights through due process opens you up to losing rights in the future without another trial.” You added, squinting at a particular paragraph for clarity.

“Which sucks, but checks out for 1927.” Foggy frowned.

“If I’m interpreting the important parts correctly, this case is meant to highlight an important consequence of precedent, which is that one decision can impact the judicial system for decades, even over important things like due process.” You explained, turning to Matt. “Is that what you got from this?”

“That’s about what I interpreted, yah.” Matt nodded, giving Foggy a sly grin. “That enough of an explanation for ya, Nelson? Or do we need to break it down point by point.”

“Shut up, Murdock.” Foggy grumbled. “I’d be better with this if I wasn’t dog-tired.”

“You’re doing great, Foggy. Don’t listen to him. All we have left to do this week is read for Torts and then we are home free.” You smiled sympathetically.

“Ugh!” Foggy flopped down onto his pillows, covering his face with his hands.

“Not to be a pain, but I don’t have this text…” Matt shifted uncomfortably, biting his lip.

“That’s alright, I can read mine aloud. If that’s ok with you, Foggy?” You looked to the half-asleep law student for confirmation who nodded tiredly.

“If it allows me to close my eyes, I’d be more than happy to listen.”

Matt chuckled, before tilting his head towards you. “Can I come closer? To make sure I don’t miss anything?” You could’ve sworn you saw Foggy roll his eyes, but you blinked and he remained still as a corpse against his pillows.

“Of course, Matt. Here.” Shuffling closer to him, you lay the textbook across both of your laps, trying incredibly hard to not focus on how warm he was. “This ok?”

Matt nodded, mouth parted slightly and your eyes followed his tongue as it darted out to wet his lips. For a moment, all you heard was static and the soft puffs of Matt’s breath. Coming back into your body, you shook your head to clear out the lovestruck cobwebs.

“Ok, um, Introduction to American Civil Law: Chapter 1, Liability and Negligence…”

To tell the honest truth, Matt hadn’t taken in a word you’d spoken since you passed the introductory paragraph. Legal jargon washed over him like the water of a warm bath, spoken by a soothing dulcet voice and punctuated by the steady thump of your kind heart. Your thigh was resting against his and he could feel the tension in your neck as you desperately kept it mere inches from its desired landing place on his shoulder. Your soft t-shirt brushed over his arm with each expanse of your chest as you inhaled, rubbing more of your sweet lavender and vanilla scent over his skin.

As you continued to be blissfully unaware of his lack of attention, or rather his abundance of attention, his body was fighting an internal battle to not sweep you into his arms and bury his face in your neck.

Leaving St. Agnes had been a culture shock for the ages, but Matt was beginning to love it. The orphanage had been an overwhelmingly lonely place, which Matt attributed to his tendency to pick fights and his disability causing him to stand out. Meeting his new roommate had been nerve wracking, but Foggy was as easy to like as the first ray of sunshine in the spring, despite his grumpiness when he was exhausted. Sure he was messy and his snoring had kept Matt awake for hours, but he had a massive heart. Though he and Foggy had very different lifestyles, the other man fit perfectly into his life, as did you. Matt was more than aware of his tendency to form quick attachments, but his feelings toward you were an entirely different beast.

The night he’d met you in the bookstore, an invitation to go on a date with him had been teetering on the edge of his tongue for hours. Flirting came naturally to him, one of the many reasons he didn’t get along with the other boys of Clinton Church, but given his less than standard childhood, he’d never had the opportunity to start a relationship. Every minute he spent with you made it more obvious that you deserved to be loved, not aimlessly thrown into a date or two, and Matt wasn’t sure he would be able to provide that. At least not now.

An ear-splitting snore sounded from the other side of the room, abruptly ending his daydream. Your arm left its place at his side as you stifled a laugh. “Guess I was more boring than I thought.”

“Trust me, it’s not because of you. That man could fall asleep to the sound of a fire alarm if he tried hard enough.” Matt smirked, humor not quite reaching his eyes as his brain mourned the loss of your touch. Feeling you shift tensely next to him, he pondered for a moment. “If you’re worried about waking him, we could go somewhere else?”

“Where would we go at 2 in the morning on a Thursday?” You groaned, desperately aching to be done with school work for the week but simultaneously more than willing to spend all night with Matt.

“I know a place. But we will probably want this blanket.” Matt grinned at you as your confusion peaked, but you threw the blanket over your shoulder and took his hand nonetheless.

How your friend had discovered that the roof of Butler Library remained accessible after hours via a secluded maintenance stairwell, you’d never know—but you couldn’t help but thank the heavens for granting you this slice of paradise.

The cement that compromised the roof was cold, a symptom of being deprived of the sun for hours now, but you and Matt lay huddled together on his bedspread, lounging in a pocket of warmth your closeness had created. You were practically snuggling, which was not helping soothe the part of your brain that was rabidly attracted to him, sharing your highs and lows from the week.

As the two of you giggled about an incident with a pigeon that had decided to attend Civil Procedure, you found your eyes tracing over the moonlit form of the beautiful man before you, who seemed to notice your staring as his lips quirked up. “So, tell me, sweetheart, how’s a girl like you end up in a place like this?”

With an exaggerated groan, you shoved him playfully. “You and your damn lines, Murdock.”

With a chuckle, Matt’s expression turned from something entirely playful into one of genuine interest. “Seriously, what brought you to Columbia?” Feeling your heart pound under his blank gaze, you blew out a breath.

“That is a long, sad story that I’m sure you don’t really—“

“If you don’t want to tell me, I totally get it. But I’d like to know more about you.” Matt’s answer was honest and lacking his perpetually flirty edge that kept you at a safe distance, which sent a burst of heat to your stomach that you weren’t expecting.

“Oh, well...” Sighing deeply, you considered your options. You’d had a hard time making friends in the past, and had a tendency to over share (or so you’d been told), but Matt had asked for the real answer. That meant he really wanted it, right?

Steeling yourself for the impending rejection, you confessed. “I’m originally from Connecticut. Small little town called Bridgewater, about an hour from New Haven. It’s just me and my mom, really. My dad lives in godknowswhere, Virginia with my two siblings and his girlfriend. He’s…kinda the worst, so we don’t talk much. My mom though, she’s amazing. I owe everything to her.”

Matt smiled at you, nodding encouragingly when you hesitated.

“Um, yah, so long story short, she was diagnosed with cancer when I was a kid. My dad has sort of always been a jackass but her prognosis…I don’t know, it was the last straw for him. I don’t remember much but they started arguing about money and then, he took everything. I didn’t realize it at the time, my mom is the nicest person on the planet and she would never blame my dad for her misfortune, but we lost our house, she lost her job, her assets, two of her kids—though they didn’t fight to stay like I did. The longer I lived, the more curious I became about everything and when I did some digging in high school, I found out my dad had claimed everything in the divorce. He and his attorney had argued that my mom was abusive and financially exploiting him and the judge gave him anything he asked for. I decided I wanted to be a lawyer so I could stop others from going through what my mom and I have.”

The story poured out of you, relieving a pressure you’d been carrying for as long as you remembered. Matt simply listened intently, emotions passing over his face in small flashes as you described your past. Realizing all of the bullshit you’d just dumped on him, you cringed.

“I’m sorry, that was a lot, I just…” Matt’s brow furrowed and his hand shot out to cup your elbow.

“No! No, I’m just so sorry that happened. Your dad sounds like a piece of work.” He gave a disgusted grimace and you giggled.

“He is. My mom still loves him though, bless her heart. We spend Christmas with him every year like he didn’t ruin her life.” The laugh that you have held no humor. “Anyway, that’s my backstory. What about you, trouble maker?” You leaned into the loose hold Matt kept on your arm, eager to learn more about him.

“Well, I’m from New York. Hell’s Kitchen, born and raised just like Foggy. I, uh, I never knew my mom. Was close with my dad, though. He was a boxer, taught me a lot about fighting, persistence.” Matt’s face fell slightly as he paused. Intertwining your fingers with his, your smile softened.

“He sounds like a good man.”

Matt nodded. “Yah, he uh, he was. He died when I was 9.”

Eyes widening, a hasty apology spilled out of you. “Oh Matt, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—“ A squeeze of your hand stopped you in your tracks.

“It’s ok. I do miss him, though. After he died, I was taken in by an orphanage, raised by nuns. This is, really the first time I’ve lived without feeling like I’m being watched.” Matt chuckled awkwardly, removing his fingers from yours to push up his glasses. “Law interested me for a reason similar to yours, I suppose. My dad, uh, he was murdered. Organized crime hit. I tried to get someone, anyone really, to bring the group to justice and I…failed. Made me realize the justice system needs more devoted participants, I guess.” Taking his hand back into yours, you ran a thumb over his knuckles, allowing him to collect his thoughts before continuing the conversation.

“So you’re interested in criminal law then?” Your heart flipped happily as Matt’s starlit face lit up again.

“Honestly, I’m interested in most of it. But the more I learn about the world, the more I realize how important criminal defense is. My dad’s murder inspired this journey, but what I do with the degree, it’ll be in his memory. I’m starting to think that defense would be the best way to honor him.”

How on Earth did you manage to find the sweetest boy on campus? “That’s…beautiful Matt. Really. He must be so proud of you already.”

Matt’s lips twitched but he seemed unsure. “Maybe he should wait to see if I actually get this degree. Torts is already shaking up to be a nightmare.”

“Ugh, that’s for damn sure.” You laughed breathily, shivering as a breeze pierced your thin shirt.

Face twisting with concern, Matt ran his hand over your arm. “Are you cold? Sorry, I didn’t think it would get this chilly out.”

“Oh, it’s ok! I’m not that cold.” You assured him, relishing in the soft brushes of his calloused fingertips over your arm.

Raising a brow at you, Matt pulled off the crew neck he was wearing, handing it to you. “Humor me.”

Rolling your eyes at his demanding tone, you slipped the garment over your head. The worn gray sweatshirt was soft and comfortably warm with Matt’s body heat. It was such a pleasant relief from the frigid cement that you had to bite back a groan. Breathing in the earthy, clean scent that always followed Matt, you sighed in relief.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” Matt grinned.

The night didn’t go on for too much longer after you spilled your guts to your new friend. At his insistence, you called Oscar and Jen to come pick you up rather than walking home.

You fell asleep easily that night and, while it would be easy to blame the late hour, the fabric of Matt’s sweatshirt wrapped around you may have had something to do with it.

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mugeesworld · 1 year

Text

Sanji with a chubby partner head cannons!

Omg guys. I'm getting way more likes and followers then I thought I would! I'm so thankful😭♥︎. Y'all are so kind tysm! Writing is a big outlet for me so to see other people enjoying it makes me so happy!

I also have a wattpad if you're interested! It's called heeheemugee. And I have a few stories there. Tysm once again. On with the head cannons.

NSFW (you've been warned) female y/n (as always if you want a Male y/n version or gender fluid version let me know!) ♥︎♥︎♥︎

Sanji is my all time favorite character so I will most likely be adding to this whenever I have a idea😍 he's sooo baby girl

And ik sanji goes for "skinny" girls but I'm here to tell you. He would love, worship, praise, the ground you walk on hunny. Theirs not good plus size representation in one piece and that's what you're gonna be. You're gonna be the goddess that walked in and changed that! As you fuckin should??!

Imagine. You recently moved to a small island to get away from your troubles for a while. You got to relax everyday. Taking in the beautiful sights of nature while there and living peacefully in your small hut.

Like any other day you decide to go for a walk and pick a few apples from a apple tree that was near your house. You grab your basket and cute little hat and skip along the streets making your way to your favorite tree.

The straw hats recently made it to this island while exploring the grand line. As per usual sanji was making his rounds to buy more food for their long journey.

While walking around the island in search of different food stands he comes across a single apple tree. I'm sure the owner won't mind if I take a few! He thinks to himself, walking towards the tree.

He starts to pick a few apples putting them in his basket when he hears a sigh coming from the other side of the tree. He looks around to see a gorgeous lady trying to grab a apple that was just a little to high for her to reach.

He stares for a moment taking in the gorgeous sight in front of him before shaking his head and helping the lady. "Here! Let me!" he says grabbing the apple and reaching his hand out to give it to her. "Oh! Thank you!" you say happily excepting the apple from his hand.

You take a closer look at him since he doesn't look familiar. He feels his cheeks starting to get warm as you scan him. "You're not from here are you?" you finally ask. "No- No I'm not. Im here picking up food for my crew!" he says anxiously.

You give him a warm welcoming smile. "I see! I hope you enjoy your stay! This tree isn't owned by anyone so you're free to take as many as you would like! Need help?" you ask putting down your basket.

Sanji feels his heart race seeing your beautiful smile. As if your face could get any prettier. That smile proved him to be wrong. It most certainly can.

"Sure! I would appreciate that..." he says scratching his neck. (You're making bro nervous 😟) you nod and start picking apples and putting them in his basket. While doing so you both finally exchange names.

"So Sanji..." you say making his spine shiver hearing his name roll of your tongue. Something he wish he could hear 1,000 more times.

"Are you the chef?" you ask. "Yeah I am. Why?" he asks. "Well I'm guessing you're a pirate then right? Taking these apples like this on sea. They will go bad very quickly. I can show you how to make them into apple sauce and then how to can them. They will last way longer. Plus it's delicious!" you explain.

Sanji thinks for a moment. She's right. These apples won't last long. And I get to see her longer.... "Ok! Sure!" he says excited to learn.

You smile and grab your basket. "Great! I'll show you the way to my house and we can start!" you say grabbing his hand to show him the way.

Sanji nearly jumps out of his skin feeling you grab him like that. You're hand is so soft and small against his. (I got big hands😞) He never wanted you to let go. He wants to stay like this forever.

As y'all walk down the street y'all talking more about canning sorta going over how it will happen. You see sanjis forehead sweating in result of the sun beating down on y'all. You suddenly stop catching sanji off guard as he turns around to see why you place your hat on his head.

"You need it more then I do!" you say before continuing down the path. Sanjis cheeks go red at your sudden act. How sweet he thinks. Y'all arrive at your house and you start to show him how it works.

Once y'all are finished he tastes the apple sauce. To his surprise it was amazing. "Holy crap! This is amazing y/n!" he nearly yells. You laugh at his reaction. "Oh stop it's just a simple apple sauce nothing crazy. But now that you know how to make it. It should help your crews food last longer!" you respond.

You put the apple sauce into jars so they are easier to store. As you turn around to hand him the case of jars you notice he has apple sauce on his upper lip. You put the jars down while laughing and quickly wet a rag.

Sanji turns his head. Confused at what you're doing. "What is it?" he asks. You continue laughing while making your way back towards him with the wet rag. "You have some apple sauce on your face. Here." you say before grabbing his face with one hand and wiping it with the other.

Sanji starts to have a overload while you do this. Blushing like crazy until his nose starts bleeding. "Oh no. Are you ok???" you ask scared as the blood starts pooling out of his nose he take the rag from your hand and nods embarrassed. "Y-yeah! This happens sometimes haha!" he yells trying to play it off.

You quickly grab a first aid kit. "At least let me patch your nose." you say taking out some supplies. You try to walk over to him but he quickly jumps back. "No no. Don't come any closer y/n." he says panicking.

Y/n gives him a confused look. "But why I just want to help? Did I do something?" you ask.

"No! Well yes.... But no! It's just.... You're making me flustered y/n and it makes my nose bleed.... Sorry" he admits. You continue to look at him confused. Flustered? But why....

"How do I make you flustered? I haven't done anything..." you ask. Sanji sighs at your cluelessness.

"You... You make me nervous....Cause you're so... Gorgeous." he finally admits. Your eyes widden. Gorgeous? No one's ever called you that before. Could you really make someone that nervous to make their nose bleed just by your beauty??

"Well... Can you close your eyes? Please so I can help you?" you ask still desperately wanting to help him. Sanji thinks for a moment before closing his eyes and removing the rag.

You slowly make you way over to him. Putting two pieces of tissue in his nose and wrapping under it so it stays. You tell him your done and he opens his eyes. Before you can say anything he leans in and kisses you.

Placing his soft lips on yours kissing you passionately like he's been waiting for this moment his whole life. You we're surprised at first but start to kiss back.

Y'all pull away to get air. "Y/n you're the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen. I'm never felt this way about someone in my whole life. I don't want to say goodbye to this. I don't want to see you go...." he admits holding you by your waist.

"Come with me. Join my crew! I'll keep you safe. We can sail the sea together and most importantly be together y/n. I don't want to leave you!" he says. You widden your eyes. Does he really like you that much.

You've only just met this man but he seems so genuine. Like someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. You've only talked to him for a couple's hours but the time you've had together and what you've learned about him means so much to you. You don't want to see him leave either.

"Yes" you whisper. "W-what?" sanji asks not thinking he heard you right."I'll go with you." you say looking up at him smiling. Sanji picks you up and sways around the room as y'all laugh together.

He suddenly puts you down getting serious. "Theirs one more thing I have to know y/n before you come with me..." he says looking at the ground. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asks smiling at you.

You throw your arms around him and place a kiss on his cheek. "Of course I will!" you nearly yell.

And CUT. AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER!

Sanji just loves you. Home boy is obsessed with you. Everything about you. He can get enough. Your a addiction he don't want rehab for. It's almost unhealthy how much he loves you.

I can't put it in to words how much he would worship you. He can't believe you're real. He's scared your a dream and he's gonna wake yo with you not there. He treats every day with you like it's his last and saviours you every second.

He is so clingy. He can keep his hands off you. He would try to be respectful about it. But he just wants to tear you apart man. He wants to grope and grab every single inch, cm, mm of your body. Not one spot going uncherished.

Everything you do he finds attractive. Walking? Hot. Pushing hair out of your face. Hot. Sitting still. Hot. Literally doing nothing at all. Hot.

When he first seen you naked he has to get a look from every angle. To just take it the beauty. He had you stand in the middlebof the room. And he just walked around you. Taking it all in. Even getting on the ground or standing on a chair to see it from there. Nothing will go unnoticed.

Making sure to rub his hands up and down your body praising a worshipping every single inch before railing you.

I usually put in what I think the characters favorite part of you would be but lord. I can't pick. Cause he would love all of you. He would shoot himself in the head before answering that.

It's not possible to choose ONE thing that is better then the rest of you cause all of you is perfect to him. He sees no flaw.

He loves holding you. Laying on your stomach in between your legs wrapping his arms under your back. While you play with his hair. Makes him so weak bro. Always a horny mess. Always ready.

He probably love quickies. Just to help him get through the day. Cause with you walking around he won't be able to get anything done with out at least pounding into you once. Very very high stamina.

Position? Don't matter. He will do it from any angle you like. The feeling of you wrapped around him is enough. He gets pussy drunk instantly.

BIG AND I MEAN BIGGGG moaner. He don't care he letting everything out. He can't help it. He whimpers and whines for you. Breathing heavy. Trying to speak but it comes out as mumbles cause he's so overwhelmed by the way you feel.

Oh you're more submissive? He loves taking the lead and teasing/rubbing every inch of your body till you are a pleading mess. Beginning to be fucked. And he does. As a dom he would put everything into making both of y'all feel good. Definitely a service dom.

Any tiny thing you like while having sex he would do just to make it better for you. Whether it's being choked, spanked, kissed. Whatever you want. He's on it. He tries so hard to make you feel so good so he can see your lewd over stimulated face. He loves seeing how his cock makes you all "drunk"

Knowing he fucks you best and no one else can do that. Definitely the type to ask. "Who do you belong to/ who fucks the best?" during sex. Really gets him off knowing your his.

Oh but you're a dom? No problem. He love having a women dominating him. Being told what to do by such a beautiful lady turns him on in ways he can't explain. He wants to fulfill your every need and make you happy.

Anything you say goes. You want on top. Get on. You want to tease him with a vibrator? He's ready on bed. You want him to eat you out he's already laying on his back ready for you to take a seat on your thrown like you deserve.

Even stuff more kinky! Oh you want to peg him? He's down. He probably bi anyways. You can't tell me he's not zesty. I mean look at him! He probably love having you peg him.

The feeling of you driving into him with your strap so aggressively makes him go crazy. Pushing his head into the pillows to avoid screaming. Only thing is he feels bad that you're not getting anything out of it when you really are. So he makes sure to repay you after.

He would call you by whatever name you give him. Mommy? Done. Mistress? Hell yeah. He is down for whatever. He probably even has mommy issues. Look at him. I mean..... Like...

With all of that being said about him wanting to please you. It drives him insane seeing you between his legs sucking him off. He would throw his head back and just whine. He love language might be acts of service but Lord he loves seeing you this.

I'll add more later probably but I'm busy but wanted to get this out! ♥︎

#chubby #chubby y/n #chubby!reader #chubbyreader #heeheemugee #nami #one piece #robin #sanji #sanji smut #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #black foot sanji #sanji headcanons #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanjionepiece #black leg sanji #op

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hvly · 9 months

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as a fellow virgin male enthusiast, who are thee virgins of each fandom ur in??

— ⋆｡˚｡⋆ ｡˚ 𓆩𖥔𓆪 ˚｡⋆｡˚｡⋆ —

sᴘᴇᴀᴋɪɴɢ : ooooh, ive never really given any deep thought to who takes the virgin crown before. let’s dive in !

𓆩𖥔𓆪 — disclaimer ! these are just my opinions. if you disagree, cool. don't really care to hear it but let's be civilized and cordial.

Chainsaw Man - Obvious Answer

i know. you know. we all know who it is. do you think I should explain why? no. we all know I don't so we're gonna move on.

Demon Slayer - Himejima Gyomei

I’ll be honest, I was torn between Gyomei and Giyuu, but ultimately, Mr. Stone is taking the cake on this one. Now listen, I know we’re all enamored and absolutely riveted by the man's sheer size, but we have to be honest with ourselves (even if it hurts). And it’s not because he’s a sensitive soul and he cries over grass getting cut, but because he’s just a pious man imo. I truly believe that intercourse of any kind is the absolute last thing on his mind, if it’s there at all. Even if he did have sex, I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be for pleasure.

Haikyuu - Asahi Azumane

i struggled with this one because id have to go school by school and more than one came to mind (maybe I'll do that later just for funsies 🤭) but Asahi is scoring high on my vir-dometer. Asahi seems like the type of guy who would wait until he's in a strong committed relationship before he has sex. Casual sex, one-night stands, and even early into the relationship. Something as intimate and personal as sex shouldn't just be done willy nilly (hehe, willy) and he has to be sure and secure in himself and his partner. What a guy, right?

Jujutsu Kaisen - Kokichi Muta

I feel like he's a virgin just because he's chronically in the friend zone. He just kind of has the misleading aura to him that keeps landing him there, like "Oh, he doesn't seem like the type that wants to be in a relationship/have casual sex. But I enjoy his company so win some lose some." Of course, he doesn't feel like that, but he also won't clear that misconception/misunderstanding up. Sure he'd like to get laid, but not at the expense of how people perceive him. He knows his time will come soon enough, though.

My Hero Academia - Shigaraki Tomura

Now before y'all jump down my gullet and bring up AFO Shiggy, I want to implore you all to be fucking forreal. That boy can barely talk to the people in his league, let alone get someone into his bed. And if he did (by some miraculous act of god), i'm almost positive he'd do one of two things. Sit there confused as to what to do next or he'd cum during foreplay and fall asleep. He's just incredibly, debilitatingly awkward to me and I pity the boy.

Obey Me - Belphegor

Belphie's just lazy, to be completely honest. I can't see him putting in any actual effort to lose his virginity. Sex is a physical activity that, depending on how soft or rough/fast or slow you are, can be quite strenuous. Is 10-20 minutes of physical activity worth like, 4 minutes of afterglow? No. No it isn't. It'd be much better spent sleeping. Or taking a nap. Resting his eyes, if you will. If he ever decides to spare the energy to bone, however, he's not doing any work. Purely spoiled pillow prince.

Tokyo Revengers - Kisaki Tetta

Kisaki is still a virgin just because of how obsessive and delusional he is. There's only one person for him and he's tunnel visioned on making them his and his alone. It's different from waiting for the right one because he knows who the right one is. They just don't know yet. He doesn't have a single moment to waste on some random fling or distract himself from his ultimate goal of making his target officially his.

#𓆩𖥔𓆪 — verses #tokyo revengers headcanons #obey me headcanons #mha headcanons #jjk headcanons #haikyuu headcanons #demon slayer headcanons #kisaki tetta x reader #belphegor x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #kokichi muta x reader #asahi azumane x reader #himejima gyomei x reader

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lovemyromance · 3 months

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Stop Kicking Elain out of the NC

She doesn't want to go. She doesn't want to leave her family. The cauldron turning her into high fae was unfortunate, but in typical Elain fashion (my favorite quality of hers) she made the best of a terrible situation and adapted to her new home, her new body, her new life. She has friends. She glows with health. She is mending the relationship with her sisters. The male she loves is there.

Why would she want to leave?

And if anyone brings up the fact that Cassian said she couldn't pull off a black dress - I swear to god I'll be convinced you've never read a book before. Cassian, the Miranda Priestley of Velaris, declaring Elain doesn't look good in black does not mean she is being rejected by the Night Court.

Do people not read? Did you not read how Nesta had to stand out to be Eris-bait, and if Elain, gorgeous, sweet, with beauty-that-could-bring-a-king-to-his-knees Elain was done up like the rest of them, the chances of Eris following after Nesta would have been slim? They had to make her look muted, to purposefully fade her into the background. That is ALL.

Now let's get into the even worse arguments for booting Elain out of the NC. Specifically,

She belongs in Spring (with Lucien)

She belongs in Day (with Lucien)

She belongs in Autumn (with Lucien)

Do you see what all those have in common (other than being surface level awful arguments)? They all center around Lucien. Who currently, Elain avoids like the plague. But I'm getting ahead of myself, lets go one by one, slow and steady:

Elain does NOT belong in spring

Why is this a thing, even? Because she likes flowers and Feyre said "oh elain would like it here?" That's it? Are we reducing people down to their hobbies now? Nesta likes books, should she also move to Day? Mor likes...wine I guess, should she move into a tavern? Amren likes puzzles, ship her to Dawn? Azriel likes Elain, let's put him in the Prison??

Or, oh wait, Tamlin should lose his court and Elain and Lucien will rule? How. Genuinely, how? Lucien is already an heir to Day Court & Autumn Court. How would the magic pick him of all people if Tamlin somehow dies/gives up his court? Wouldn't it pick someone...of Spring Court descent?

P.S Flowers also grow in the Night Court.

Make it make sense.

2. Elain does NOT belong in Day

First of all, right now, nobody knows about Lucien's parentage except for Feyre/Rhys and LoA (maybe). Helion doesn't know. Lucien himself does not know.

For Lucien to become high lord of Day, y'all realize Helion would have to die, right? Why would you ever kill off such an icon? And even if he just casually lives there while Helion still rules...a lot of things would have to happen for this to occur, like: Lucien's parentage is revealed, Helion accepts him as his heir, likely a blood duel between Beron/Helion over LoA, If Beron wins THEN Lucien becomes HL of Day, but if Helion wins then Eris becomes HL of Autumn...all of this would have to be covered in one book before they can even think about moving to Day and living happily ever after. You know, if Elain ever actually gives him the time of...day.

Don't even give me the "but Elain needs sunlight"!!

P.S. The NC also gets sunlight

Elain is not a plant. She does not undergo photosynthesis and need to go to the Day Court to physically be alive. Elain does not need light she IS the light. What's not clicking folks? Her name literally means LIGHT. Some variations say fawn/deer, but mainly she is light.

3. Elain does NOT belong in Autumn

This argument is more rare, but I don't understand it either. Why would she go live in Autumn as the reluctant mate to the 7th son of the awful Autumn HL? Autumn court cannot be this interesting to y'all, that you would be totally okay with not hearing from feyre/rhys/nesta/cassian/any of the IC, just to read a story about Elain avoiding Lucien in different climate/setting? Autumn exists in the NC too, you guys. She can ignore him when the leaves change color there, just as much.

And all of this, is only centered around Lucien. Because if you just asked this sweet flower child what she wanted, I can guarantee you, her answer would be to stay right where she is: home.

If she weren't mated to Lucien, would you still be sending her away to Spring/Day/Autumn?

This isn't even a ship thing at this point, like...Lucien doesn't currently have a home right now? Why are we tearing Elain away from her home to go live with a mate she does not want? If Elucien ever did get together, it would make so much more sense for Lucien to just move to the NC instead. Because Elain sure as hell is not going to live in her ex-fiance's manor, far away from her sisters, with a mate she didn't ask for and his rude bestie who literally made a r*pe joke about her (yeah, not understanding the Jurian & Lucien friendship here either).

Stop kicking my girlie out of the night court. She's staying where she belongs. If she leaves, it will be her choice. Not because her mate lives somewhere else. Not because she likes flowers. If she stays, it will be because that is her choice.

I thought it was obvious.

#elriel #pro elain #elain archeron #elain x azriel #acotar

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lalachat · 4 months

Text

"And there you were..."

Author's note: "Hey... how y'all doinnnnn?"

I am so sorry for my radio silence! Life just got so busy that I unfortunately lost motivation to write. I swear to you all I looked at Chapter 8 so many times, but had no inspo and got writer's block. However, I woke up on the right side of the bed today and the cauldron said to me, "get that shit done girl!" And I did! I DID THAT THANG! Wrote my first real smut ever! Please go easy on me, writing has been difficult, but I see all of your overwhelmingly positive comments and it just fills my heart❤️ I will try my best to keep updating this story, not to the extent I was when I first started, but I promise to try to get more out. Y'all finally get to see the autumn court rumor in motion, eheheh🔥

Summary: After an eventful day of emotional turmoil, you find Lucien waiting for you in your bedroom to talk things through, bestie to bestie. However, one thing leads to another and you are stuck in the bathroom with the autumn court male as he questions you about the all known rumor...

This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️

Warnings: profanity, potential grammatical errors, and last but not least SMUT, 18+ for this chapter, I warned you👀

Word Count: ≈ 4,809

Chapter 8: Just Like the Old Days

Chapter 8:

“So, who is buying us drinks?” Lucien asked.

“Out of all the things to say to me right now, you chose that?” you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“We can't have him getting the wrong orders,” he smirked as he walked over to you by the door. You rolled your eyes at his response.

“Only you could say something like that in this moment,” you paused waiting for a response from him. You hear him let out a strained breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yes, no thanks to you,” you swat his bicep, but he grabs your hand before you manage to hit him. He looks at you inquisitively. You shouldn't have said that last part. It really was not his fault, but gods did it still pain you to see him and Elain.

“Y/n look,” he looks at where your hands met, “Every bone in my body wanted me to run after you-”

“Then why didn't you?!” Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, but you aren’t going to let them.

“Because of our mate's y/n! Elain needed me for the first time in her life, and when you ran Azriel was quick to follow you... I saw two different pairs of mates needing the other! I thought it’d be best... I am sorry if I was wrong,” he said as he started to trace circles along the back of your hand.

“Lucien you are the only being I'm so close with, I needed you!” you glanced at your hands and could feel his warmth seeping through your skin.

“Well, I am here now.” He looked up into your eyes. They were full of promise and sincerity. This right here is why this male deserved the world. He has so much love for those that are important to him. Even through everything that has happened recently, he has found a way to help both you and Elain.

You hum, “I can see that now.”

“So, can I ask why you run?” He asked. You could feel yourself faltering... You could not tell him the real reason. You just wanted to back away into a corner instead of having this conversation.

“I had to get away from Elain-” you half told the truth. He does not need to know that your mind and body craves his touch when he just got Elain into his life. He also does not need to know you and Azriel were cuddled up on the floor together.

Lucien sensed your hesitancy in not really wanting to talk about it yet, so he didn't push the matter any further.

“How was Elain?” You figured you should at least ask him.

“We had a suitable time, I think? You know, I really do not know! That woman is harder to talk to than Nesta! Her vocabulary is, “please, thank you, and if you wish,” THAT IS IT! Shes so damn polite it is almost nauseating.” He said as you giggled when he tried to mimic Elain’s voice.

“Oh, you poor thing, having to act all gentlemanly. What did you two even do?” you smirked at him.

“Wipe that smirk off your face! We did nothing, I was so scared my breathing would run her off. All we did was sit on the couch as I read her poems.” He explained.

“Sounds riveting,” rolling your eyes playfully.

“I am unsure how I feel about it. She is so distant and proper with me, cozy and social with Azriel, and with you she is- what's the word I'm looking for?” He rubbed his temples.

“I think the term you're looking for is heinous bitch?” you glanced up at him.

“That works I guess,” he shrugged. “I really do not know what she was so upset about when she was kissing Azriel not too long ago. A little hypocritical, if you ask me.”

“Does she know you know they kissed?” you asked.

“I do not think so, it is for the best I keep to myself for now. I cannot go yelling at her for kissing him when you and I were up against the wall earlier.” He shrugged as you completely forgot you and him were one wrong decision away from fucking each other ruthlessly.

You grew nervous. Azriel and Elain have been together longer than your current reunion with your friend. It is possible they could have a more serious relationship than just that kiss you two saw.

“Do you think they have had sex?” you asked nervously.

“You think they have?” Lucien’s eyes were darkening. Probably from jealousy but fuck- is that attractive.

“I really cannot tell... It is always the quiet and innocent ones that are always doing things beyond belief,” you sighed. Could they really be having sex with each other?

“We should spy on them and find out.”

“You want to spy on them having sex? Y/n if you are a voyeur just say so,” he looked you over, “I always knew you had a hidden kinky side.”

“Lucien, would you sit down! That is not what I meant! I meant we should get to know about their relationship more, figure out what we are both up against. Knowing how close they have gotten can be a gauge on how much hope is left for us.” you said. You figured if Azriel’s shadows had an attachment to you there was still a glimmer of hope! Besides, Lucien and Elain obviously have a small connection from what you saw in the library.

“Ohhhh, now that makes a lot more sense,” he teased. “You do realize Elain and Azriel are also up against our strong relationship too?”

“Yeah, but they are not in love with us. So, it is not as much of an issue for them as it is for us... Also, you forget Azriel does not even know about our bond yet.”

“I really don’t understand that male at all,” Lucien grunted frustrated at him for not being smart enough to sense the bond between you two. He was the spymaster for gods sake!

“Neither do I after tonight...” you said as you walked to your dresser to pull out a nightgown. You turned around and looked at Lucien who stared back at you, clearly not getting the message you wanted to change as he clicked his tongue. Your eyes following the movement.

“You never answered my question earlier...” he mused.

“And what question was that?” you asked, confused as to what he was talking about. You walked to the bathroom attached to your room. You left the door slightly cracked so you could continue your conversation as you changed.

“About needing a certain reminder?” He sat on your bed with his elbows resting on his knees.

“You are still on about that?” Fuck, this male is really testing your rationality. Why does he have to be so alluring? You slipped off your shirt and grabbed the hem of your pants as he responded.

“Yes, I am. Sweet little Elain was curious about my ability to light the fireplace tonight.” You could hear him shuffling around slightly. You slipped out of your pants and popped your head out of the crack in the door.

“First of all, I did not plant that rumor in her head! She simply overheard it,” you said matter of factly. As you looked Lucien up and down. He was now fully sprawled out on your bed, his hair tied up in a messy bun, with his arms arrogantly folded behind his head. Shit, can this male get any more attractive?

“Uh huh, but that still does not answer the question y/n,” he quirks his head at your floating one in the doorway.

You were standing there frozen in your underwear as you tried to come up with any kind of responsible thing to say. Something to end this conversation where it is before it gets too messy. However, the sight before you of Lucien in your bed has caused you to short circuit. Memories of you, in this very bathroom, fanaticizing about the male before you as you pleasured yourself came flooding back. The images of his hands all over you as he buried himself in you, and you and him in a heated kiss against the wall earlier, shitttttt. Your face instantly heated, Lucien looks at you concerned.

“Are you okay?” He started to get up to come check on you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You watch him draw closer to you in concern, but the closer he gets the more the scent of the air starts to change. He paused and you watched him take a sharp inhale from shock. You can’t be that turned on right now, right?

His eyes darkened from it as he smirked at you, “So y/n, what do you say?”

Like you said earlier in Lucien’s apartment, fuck it. You both needed this. You both deserved to be selfish for once. You decided to slowly open the door, as the smell of you grew stronger.

“I don’t know Lu; do you think I need a reminder?” You propped yourself along the doorframe as you looked straight into his eyes as you said, “Or is it you who needs one because you forgot how to weild that power?” You tilted your head to the side as his mouth laid there agape seeing you in nothing but your skimpy choice of attire.

“Fuckkkk-” he licked his lips as he stalked towards you.

“Which one is it, Lu?” He stood right in before you and looked down upon your figure.

“If you think that I forgot how to fuck you properly you must be insane.”

Gods you forgot how tall this male was. Respectfully, you wanted to climb this man like a damn tree, and you just might.

“Then show me already,” you said.

“Always so eager,” he said as he crashed his lips into yours in a bruising kiss. His hands grab your arms and threw them over his shoulders as he picks you up effortlessly, never breaking the kiss.

You met his kiss with just as much intensity as you jumped to wrap your legs around his waist. Your hands burying themselves at the bottom of soft silky hair that fell out his bun as Lucien sat you on the bathroom counter. He broke the kiss; you immediately missed contact. He only smirks at you.

“Well, well, well... what do we have here?” he took another inhale, your scent was driving him crazy. This entire bathroom was covered in it. “Your arousal is everywhere in this bathroom, almost as if it is lingering from earlier?” He looked at you questioningly. Your face heated. Is he smelling you from your time in the bath? There is no way! The smell should’ve vanished by now, right?

“What too embarrassed to confess love?” His hand cupped your face forcing you to look at him. “You touched yourself earlier, didn’t you?”

You nodded your head; Lucien placed his hands on the counter blocking you in. His knuckles were white as he tried to keep his composure.

“You will answer when I ask you a question y/n, did you fuck yourself?” His voice was soft but authoritative.

“Yes,” you squeaked, and he hummed. The sound vibrating through your body.

“Was it in here?” He quipped.

“Yes,” you admitted, unable to do anything. Your mind was hazy from being pinned in by him. He sucked in a breath.

“And what did you think about?” His hands started tracing the curves of your hips as he glanced at your kissable lips.

“Lucien!” you whisper yelled. This made your heart flutter, having to admit something so vulnerable out loud to him.

“That’s my name doll,” as he looked at you, “Now what did you think about?” His hands started growing hot on your hips from anticipation. You sighed at the feeling.

“I-, I thought about you-” you quickly admitted. Lucien’s hands tightened on your hips as they soon became scolding hot, but you didn’t care.

“Fuck me-” he rested his forehead against yours, “What exactly did you think about?” as his right hand moved to put pressure against your clothed center. You moaned at the slight touch.

“I-,” you took a shaky breath, “I thought about what it would be like to have you touch me,” you bit your lip as you placed your hands on top his shoulders.

“Like this?” He started circling his fingers against your clothed clit, head still rested against yours watching your reaction.

“Mhmn,” was all you could muster. Fuck he wasn’t even really touching you yet and you were already about to give yourself into a release.

“Or was it like this?” He asked as his left hand left your hip to pull your underwear to the side as his other slid up and down your center.

“Gods,” you head fell back from the feeling until he ripped his hand away, you glared at him. “What the hell?!”

“You are going to answer my questions,” He glared at you as if he was just as upset to not be touching you.

You sighed, “Yes, it was just like that.”

“Good girl,” he mused as he kissed you softly, “And what else did I do to you?” His left hand cupping your cheek as his right hand teasingly slid up your folds. You hissed.

“You-” the feeling of his fingers against you was utter bliss, “fuck- I imagined your fingers inside me,” you mouth falling agape at Lucien’s teasing fingers waiting for a command on what to do.

“How many? One?” He slid his index finger inside you, you gasped as you gripped his shoulders from the pleasure. Your nails slightly digging into him.

“Two?” He added his middle finger next as a breathy moan escaped your lips. The sound going straight to his cock.

“Fuck-” you threw your head back, “s’good!” Lucien hummed in satisfaction.

“Was it three?” He added his ring finger stretching you out. His fingers are much larger than your own, making this feeling more pleasing.

“I- I don’t know how many, I just wanted them.” You said breathlessly.

“Well, you have them,” he mused back as you glanced at his lips as his words left his mouth. Your hands grabbing a fistful of his shirt to bring him into a kiss. Catching him by surprise from your neediness to have his mouth back on yours, he let out a low grown. You smirked into the kiss hearing his response to you. Your desire growing more impatient.

“Lucien, please-” you broke the kiss in need for stimulation. His hot fingers inside you made you impatient as you tried to move yourself against him.

“Please what? Use your words doll,” he said teasingly.

“Stop with the teasing and just fuck me already!” You huffed a hair that had fallen onto your face.

“Such a desperate little thing,” he said, and he fully removed his fingers before pumping them back inside you.

“Yes!” you cried out from finally getting the stimulation you wanted. No, NEEDED.

“S’good for me, fuck you feel so good baby,” Lucien mused as his fingers kept working in and out of you. His cock was begging him to be where his fingers were.

“More,” you begged.

“More what doll?” as you scratched along his back trying to get a grip of reality.

“Need you so bad,” you cried out as he kept at his pace.

“Not until you are coming undone on my fingers.”

His left hand found your bra clip and unhooked it. His fingers light as a feather but as hot as hellfire itself as he slowly slid it off your shoulders. The cold breeze instantly hardened your nipples as he tossed your bra to the floor.

“You are ethereal,” he kissed your neck as his left hand found home on one of your breasts, pinching your nipple slightly.

You traced your hands down, down, down his back. You can feel Lucien’s muscles tense at every touch. You reached the hem of his pants and slipped a pinky finger inside the elastic of his underwear and slowly traced it around to his lower abdomen. The slight tease of your finger had his eagerly hitting your soft spot effortlessly. You were writhing beneath him.

“Shit- right there Lu!” you breathed as your hands took hold of his hips bound to leave bruises.

“Fuck you are so gorgeous,” as he took your other nipple into his mouth and moaned. Your head hit the wall behind you as you were starting to reach your climax.

“Lucien,” you said breathlessly.

“I know baby, I know. Doing s’good for me,” as he nipped at your ear.

“I’m gonna-” you tried to tell him you were about to finish but your sentence fell short as you felt your release seconds away from washing over you. Lucien’s left hand found your chin and forced it down to his gaze.

“I want to watch that pretty face of yours as you cum on my fingers, yeah?” he gave you a chaste kiss. You somehow managed to nod your head despite how good Lucien was fingering you, and you locked eyes. His pupils were full blown, the beautiful russet-colored eyes you loved was gone. He looked utterly primal, and it turned you on even more than you already were. His hand hot inside your core, only adding more pleasure before you were gripping the base of his hair and clenching around him.

“That’s it, cum for me y/n,” his eyes never left yours as you came undone on his fingers. “Gods you are so fucking beautiful.”

Moans were slipping and falling from your mouth as he worked you through your high. You swore you saw stars from how hard you came around him.

As you regained your stability, you looked down to see Lucien’s hand glistening in the light peeking into the room. You smiled at him through your lashes as you pulled him back down into a kiss, but Lucien broke away.

“You have made such a mess,” he teased.

And sure enough, you looked back down to see that his pants were covered in you. Only proof of how good he finger fucked you. Your fantasy had just come to life before you. All you could do was smirk at him as you gently grabbed his wrist and sucked his fingers clean. You hummed at the taste of yourself on his fingers and Lucien watched every move you made.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him once more, letting him get a taste for himself. His tongue gliding along your bottom lip before he took it into his mouth and released it with a pop.

“Better?” You asked and he hummed.

“So sweet,” he said as he licked his lips as you unbuttoned his pants.

“Now what can we do about these?” You asked as your hands slid into the hem of his underwear and slightly tugged down. Lucien looked at you playfully as he took a step back and threw his hands up in an “I don't know” kind of way. You giggled as you slipped off the counter to help him out his pants. Your hands slowly pull them down his waist before you kneeled to pull them the rest of the way. All you can see is his pants and underwear at his ankles, you tap his ankle as a way of telling him to lift it and he does. You do the same to the other and toss them across the floor.

You slowly trail your gaze up his muscular legs to his hard cock standing proud against his lower stomach. Your mouth watered at the sight of his needy swollen cock dripping with precum. Fuck, you had forgotten how big he was. If Lucien had wings, he sure as hell would have a large wingspan.

You slowly looked up at him, batting your lashes, as you grazed your fingers up, up, up his legs as you started to stand. Your hands took a slight detour to slightly touch his aching member and Lucien let out a hiss as his head fell back.

“Fucking tease,” he groaned as your fingers collected some of his pre cum and licked it off, standing back up.

“Do you want to know what else I thought about?” You said as your hands played with the bottom of his shirt.

“What else did you think about?” He cocked his head to the side completely captivated by you.

“I thought about what it would be like to have your dick inside me again,” you bit your lip seductively from the thought of it.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said as he let you pull his shirt over his head. Your eyes roaming his gods sculptured body. You had forgotten how built he was, lean muscle everywhere from all his training with swords.

“How did I fuck you y/n?” He placed his hands on your hips guiding you back to the counter and you smirked.

“Ruthlessly,” you said breathlessly, and Lucien only smirked.

“Then turn the fuck around,” he snapped as his hands spun you to face the counter. You were now staring at your reflections through the mirror above the countertop as Lucien’s hands slid your soaked underwear off you.

“Bend over,” he commanded as he popped a soft slap on your ass. You yelped in surprise as you bent over the counter.

“Always such a good girl for me,” as he softly rubbed the now pink handprint on your ass. He bent his body over yours, as he kissed your cheek. You could feel his cock pressed up against you as you slowly started to grind onto him. He pushed harder against you in response.

Lucien grabbed your chin as he said, “You remember our safe word, correct?” Placing soft kisses all over your neck.

“Yes,” you sighed into his touch, “Do you?”

“Yes, I do.” He smiled at you, as he grabbed his cock and drug his tip through your core. Fuck it felt like you were on fire.

“Lu please, I need you so bad.”

“Alright baby, you asked for it,” he smirked at you as he gave you no time before he rammed his dick straight into you. You screamed his name as both pain and pleasure ran through you from how deep he was.

“Oh my gods, you're so deep,” you moaned as he slid himself all the way out and right back in.

“You are so tight,” as his hands gripped your waist. All you could do was watch him through the mirror as he fucked you. His brows furrowed in pleasure and mouth slightly hanging open.

“Lucien faster,” you begged.

“You are going to take what I give you! Now, put your hands together on the countertop.” His dominance over you had your core clenching against him as you did as you were told.

“Fuck, you like that don't you?” Another soft smack landed on your ass, causing you to bite your lip to stop from moaning. “You like being told what to do?” you nodded.

“What did I say about using your words y/n?” he growled.

“Yes, I like it when you tell me what to do. Now please fuck me already?!” You were starting to grow impatient and were about to start rocking back onto his cock.

“Little girls who play with fire are bound to get their fingers burned,” he said as you felt a tingling sensation around your wrists. You looked down to see swirling bands of fire holding them together. Your eyes lit up in response. Lucien watched as you looked at him in utter awe.

“You can do that?”

“I can do anything you want doll, now, grab ahold of the counter.”

The fire bands were still binding your wrists together, sending warm sensations throughout your arms as you managed your best grip onto the countertop.

“Do not let go, you hear me?”

“Yes sir,” you smirked at him.

At that phrase, all restraint he had dissipated. He began thrusting into you like there was no tomorrow. Your walls clenching around him from the sensation of having both fire restraints and his burning cock inside you.

“You are scorching,” you moaned out in pleasure.

“Such a slut for my heat, aren’t you baby?” he grunted out as he pounded into you from behind.

“Fuck- yes,” your knuckles grew white from gripping the counter so hard to even out Lucien’s thrusts as you looked back at him. You could see his cock going in and out of you. The sight of it had your walls fluttering around him.

Lucien moaned feeling you flutter around him, “This cunt is mine.” One of his hands left your hip as he played with your clit.

“It has always been yours. Since the day I first met you, it has been yours,” you moaned head slumping to your shoulder.

“Fuck- Y/n, I-” his finger circling your clit moved faster as his thrusts grew harder at each stroke.

“You feel s’good Lu,” you looked back into the mirror. His hair fell out of his bun and is now clinging to the sweat on his forehead. He has never looked more handsome than right now. His hair framing his face and his eyes burned into yours. You felt your core tightening around him.

“So do you sweetheart,” he moaned as his feet spread yours apart, his thrusts now hitting deeper than before.

“Oh mother, right there Lucien!” You screamed as Lucien removed his hand from your clit and grabbed a fistful of your hair craning your neck.

“You look so perfect right now,” his cock jetting ruthlessly into you.

“I’m close-” you breathed.

“Yeah? You gonna cum all over my cock just like you did my fingers?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna- OH FUCK!” Your release had come burning through you, the bonds on your wrists tightening and growing hotter, as you looked at you and Lucien’s bodies meeting through the mirror.

“Shit- y/n you feel so fucking good,” he growled as he kept fucking you through your high. All you could do was watch Lucien with a handful of your hair coaxing you through it. Your entire body felt like it was on fire as Lucien’s thrusts grew sloppy, a sign he was close.

“I’m almost there y/n. You’re taking me so well,” all you could do was moan in response as Lucien filled your walls with his cum. Your core burning from it in a comforting way as he collapsed onto you. Both of you are out of breath and drenched in sweat. You felt the restraints on your wrists vanish as Lucien kissed you on the lips.

“Gods I’ve missed you,” he mused.

You kissed him back, “I missed you too.”

You two just sat there smiling at each other like utter idiots, enjoying this nice moment before reality sets back in. You turned around and hugged Lucien.

“How about you we clean up?” you asked as you peered up at him.

“Yes, I will run us a bath,” he smiled at you as he kissed the top of your head, “but first we need to do something about your legs.” He bellowed. You looked down to see both yours and his cum dripping down your legs. Your face grew hot from embarrassment.

As if he could read your mind he said, “Don't be embarrassed, it is rather sexy!” as he smirked at you in an all too knowing way.

“I'll go clean myself up while you run the bath,” you said.

“Alright, I will see you in a bit,” as he turned to run you both a cold bubble bath.

You left and cleaned yourself up in your room before walking back to your bathroom to find Lucien sitting on the side of the tub waiting for you.

As you walked in your nose scrunched up, “This bathroom reeks of sex now,” you laughed, and Lucien joined in at the sight of your face.

“Just like old times, huh?” he laughed.

You smiled, “Yes, just like that.” You truly did miss him all these years.

“Now how about a nice cold tubby to clean up?” he outstretched his hand to you to help you into the bath.

“Did you just say tubby?” you asked as you took his hand and let him help you in.

“Yes, do you have any issues with it,” he glared playfully.

“Nope,” you said popping the p as he climbed in after you.

“Good, now get over here and let me take care of you,” he smiled.

“m’kay,” you said as you made your way over and laid against him as he washed your hair. Both of you savoring this moment while you could.

Since it has been a long time sine the last post, please let me know on this chapter if you’re interested in being on my taglist!

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#acotar x reader #acotar #azriel #elain archeron #cassian #nesta archeron #feyre acotar #mor acotar #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader

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