#And I want justice to finally be fucking served

[orcelito]

As a certified Akechi lover i probably should have more love for Legato. But it is just not the same.

Probably the level of cruelty involved + the fact that Akechi's ultimately a kid with a vendetta & too much power whereas Legato is someone who had no will to live so he filled that hole with the will of someone actively pursuing genocide.

Fantastic antagonist! Compelling narrative purpose! I love Legato as a character. I still want to drop kick him anytime I see him.

#speculation nation #major antagonist and foil to the protagonist does not a favorite character make #idk ive just been wondering why legato doesnt hit for me like he does some other people #considering how much i love akechi #& i guess it boils down to the Reasons for what they do. ultimately goro's doing this out of a twisted sense for justice #and an extreme anger derived from his childhood that is frankly justified #whereas legato is just... that dude is Fucked Up. i mean akechi is too but MAN. #while akechi sacrificed himself in the end to save the protagonist. legato FORCED the protagonist to kill him #via threatening someone vash cared about #two very different forms of suicidal self sacrifice. one born from the wish to change things at the last moment #for the sake of the protagonist. & using that as an excuse to say goodbye to this wretched life #vs legato living his life for the purpose of serving knives & if his purpose is erased there is no point to living #& he has been Obsessed with vash. a hatred to rival his love for knives. so it's one final Fuck You to force vash (known pacifist) to kill #a death born out of the sick wish to corrupt him. to force vash to kill him instead of killing himself. #LIKE it really is so fascinating. i could study them both under microscopes forever #but it's that difference in motivations that has goro being My Son and legato being a character i want to throw off a building #no hate to legato lovers Genuinely. fascinating character. im just trying to sort out my feelings on him. #trigun spoilers/ #suicide ment/

[angee1011]

Rana is best girl 💜

#genshin impact #Sumeru #genshin 3.0 #rana #I finished the Aranara quest line FINALLY #and holy shit #so good #I fucking cried twice near the end #anyway #Rana is the best NPC #Sumeru is serving up lovable characters left and right #loved her and Dunyarzad #and SPOILER ALERT #if you reached the end of the aranara quest and outed the ‘bad guy’ #let’s just say I felt guilty for enacting justice #between this and Katarina’s quest in the Chasm #I’m really starting to hate the Knave #I just want all these damn kids to be happy #can’t wait to see what I discover next #ALSO! there was SO MUCH lore in that damn Aranara quest #we even learned more about the Seelies??? I was like damn OK

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐃𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐏𝐭.𝟐 | 𝐊.𝐇𝐉 ♡

【Synopsis】 : The more he tasted you. The more he was becoming obsessed. And he was treading in dangerous waters, no longer caring about the consequences.

『Word count』 : 2.10k

-> Genre: Smut with little plot. Fluffy. DBF au.

Pairing: Dilf!Hongjoong x Park!Reader

[Warnings] : Fingering. Dirty talk. Pet names. Insecurity about sexual experience. Inexperience reader. Kinda late-bloomer reader. Mention of sex. This is filthy… Hongjoong is in his late 30s while the reader is 23. Hongjoong teaches the reader… I was high when I wrote this, so ignore any mistakes. It not my fault.

Note: Part two is done and dusted since you absolute filthy sinners needed more Dilf Hongjoong. Also, special tags to @mingis-prince @trishu-paper209 @itza-meee for asking for a part two. Enjoy ♡♡♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Part One | Buy Me A Ko-Fi

“Aren’t you gonna help me, sir.”

Hongjoong’s brain couldn’t function, let alone take in what you had said. He could feel the way your cunt clenched around his fingers, your gummy walls so warm and welcoming. He could cum again just by the thought. Your hips were rolling, slowly riding his thick digits. He gulped sharply from what he was witnessing. You, Seonghwa’s sweet innocent daughter, riding his fucking fingers like your life depended on it. “Fuck baby, I might just cum right now.”

He felt no shame in spilling his filthy words to you, something about this already felt so dirty so why not just keep adding fuel to the fire? He shuffled back, making sure not to move his hand that was buried between your thick thighs, using his free hand to pull you closer by your waist. You hiccuped out this name, the movement making your whole body tingle. “D-daddy…” 

“What did you just say?” You were both shocked, stilling your movements completely you felt a wave of embarrassment. You didn’t mean for it to slip out, truly, but oh did it feel so right. Hongjoong’s eyes darkened, pulling his fingers out of your soaking pussy, he chuckled, manhandling you until you were perfectly perched on his lap. He can feel your slick seeping through your panties, coating his boxers slightly. “Say it again, Angel. Who am I?”

“D-Daddy…” You whimpered feeling so small.

“Fuck.” He tipped his head back for a moment, questioning how the fuck he was going to restrain himself now when you are over here calling him daddy. “Are you tryin’ kill me here angel?”

He looked back in your direction seeing your eyes wide and curious, waiting so patiently for your next instruction. So he kept his right hand on your hip while he snaked the left behind your head, tugging you closer until your lips were only inches from his. You could feel his hot breath tickling your nose, the smell of the whiskey he was drinking earlier tonight with his friends and your father… his best friend. This was so dangerous, a part of you was screaming to back away now before anything else happened. But how could you move away now, when you were so close to finally getting what you always wanted…

When you first met your father's friends, Hongjoong wasn’t there. You met San and his partner Wooyoung. And his younger friends Jongho, Mingi, and Yeosang. And spilt drinks on his army friend Yunho. But Hongjoong… he was a mystery. No one spoke about him or what importance he had. All your father would say was they’ve known each other for a long, long time. But grew apart from the war they both served in and worked. But now he’s back and man photos did not do him justice. He was charming, playful and fucking smoking hot. His tattooed left arm made your head dizzy and when he went swimming you got a front-row show of his amazing body. You became wetter than anyone in that pool, that’s for sure.

“If we do this I won't guarantee I’ll let you go.” Hongjoong’s words were desperate and his heart was aching. He knew this was going to cause a lot of drama and most definitely your father killing him but you are worth it.

“Please Joong…” There it was. The words that started this whole drug trip of a night. Two, breathy, whimpering words. Calling for him. Begging for him. His lips were against yours in seconds, his hand tightly tucked on the back of your neck, making it impossible to slip away. His tongue was relentless, sliding over yours with such power and dominance. Your hands found place on his clothed chest, tangling your fingers in the soft cotton. Your hips began to move again, grinding harshly on this cock. His bulge hitting just the right spot making you squirm. “please, please, please.”

Your chanting against his mouth made him grunt, moving his legs so he could tip you both so you were on your back. Your head would be almost hanging off the end of the bed if Hongjoong hadn’t yanked you by your thighs so you could sprawl in the middle of the double mattress. You watch intensely as he tugged his shirt off, leaving himself in his boxer. You could finally take in the scars he had littered all over his body. Bullet wounds, stab marks. All beautifully painted his body. He had been through war, literally. You could almost forget with how calm his demeanour is twenty-hour-seven. “Can I take these off gorgeous?” 

His questions drew you out of your thoughts suddenly, noticing he had his fingers under the hem of your panties. You nodded eagerly feeling yourself tense up. All your previous self-confidence was slowly slipping away... No one has ever seen you naked must less fucked you, and you weren’t about to let Hongjoong find out. The embarrassment you’d feel, being almost twenty-three and still never having sex. Sure you’ve masturbated and used toys but being intimate with someone was unexplored territory. He slipped them off with the help of you lifting your hips. Once they were tossed aside he could take in your spread legs, and glistening sex. God, as if you couldn’t get any more beautiful here you were. “Fuck baby, you gonna let me eat you? Fuck this pretty pussy? You’ll have to be quiet, hmm.”

“Oh god…” You couldn’t help but reel over the idea of his tongue on you. Your body shaking just over the idea. Your breathing became faster, your lungs…tightening. Fuck, why do you feel so dizzy? So…Anxious. Hongjoong noticed almost immediately, hovering over you so he could cup your cheek with his tattooed hand while the other held him up. 

“Hey, Hey what’s wrong princess? Talk to me?” There’s the guilt. The sudden twang in his mouth. and As he saw a tear escape from you, he knew he had done something wrong. “Oh, I’m so sorry. What happened?”

His soothing voice was calming, slowly but surely lessening your heart rate. What you didn’t expect was to see tears in his eyes once you opened your own. It went silent, Hongjoong was waiting for you to respond. Your shaky hand glided up his chest before snaking to hold just behind his neck. “No, No. It’s okay keep going.”

He immediately sat up, bringing you with him. He let out a huff, helping you shift yourself until you were comfortable on his lap…again. “No, I need to know what I did.” His voice was firmer this time, authority-like. It reminded you just how different in age you both were. He was in such a different time in his life while you. You were still learning, exploring. You weren’t someone he could possibly want… right?

A thought danced across Hongjoong's mind for a moment and he couldn’t help but feel so stupid. “You’re a virgin…” He said it more like a statement rather than a question. You gulp, shakily nodding your head in shame. Of course, he can tell, he is sixteen years older than you for god sake. “Hey sugar, it’s okay. Theirs nothing wrong with being a virgin.” 

“There’s not…” You whimpered against his chest, feeling like such an idiot. You were crying, while naked on the guy you’ve had a crush on since you first saw a picture of him, only to realize that it’s okay that you’ve never had sex.

“No baby. It’s not…” Fuck, I’m gonna scream. Was what he wanted to say. He couldn’t care two shits if you were a virgin for you had slept with unlimited men. Sure, the idea of being your first, showing you what you hadn't experienced yet, and helping you through as many orgasms as he could give you in one night, was the most erotic news. But he cared about you. He didn’t want your first to be quiet, hushed away in a tiny ass room, on a tiny ass bed. No, he wanted your first to be memorable, loud, and fun. He wanted to show you how to make sweet love before pounding your cunt like he fucking hated you. He wouldn’t admit this to him just yet but he had fallen hard, from the moment you stepped out of your car. With a bright loving smile, kind eyes, and a beautiful Sun dress.

You sat up to look at him. Your glassy eyes from crying couldn’t barely see. Vision blurring through tears. He nudged his nose against yours, stroking your hip before sweetly, comfortingly. You inched your lips close until your top lip just grazed his before whispering. “I-I’m a virgin…” you felt like you had to say it, confirm it. His demeanour didn’t alter, or so much as flinch when you finally answered, cause he was telling the truth. He didn’t care how experienced or inexperienced. All he cared about was how you feel.

“Sweet thing…” He murmured but your lips sealed on his. This time the kiss was soft and gentle. His hands tugged against your hips, rocking you slightly backward. You let your body weight fall back, taking Hongjoong with you. Your lips never broke. His hips sat snug against your bare core, only his boxers separating you two. It was moderate at first, just a simple steady pace. But as you left little moans here and there, his speed would pick up. Until he was humping you harshly. His grinds hit your perfectly, feeling the shock of the silky fabric brush roughly against your sensitive clit. 

His cock was full hard now, groaning himself at the feeling of you against him. There was something about humping you with a piece of clothing in between so erotic, dirty. He had never felt more like a horny teen than he had now. You had such a hold on him, a way with words. You could do anything to him and he would say thank you. And now he was going to bust a nut in his boxers just from rubbing against you. “Fuck this feels so good baby. I’m gonna cream in my fucking shorts.”

“Fuck, don’t s-say stuff like that.” His words made you clench around nothing, wanting nothing more than his cock inside you. Or even his fingers, at this point either part of him would do. 

“Don’t say stuff like that, hmm.” He grunted picking up the pace in his thrusts. “But I can’t it. Not when I have such a gorgeous woman underneath, soaking me with her silk. You wanna come again, baby? Please, come for me, angel.”

His blabbering and whines made you throw your head back in a high-pitched squeak. All your nerves are on fire, feeling like you were an old fuse box crackling over heavy rain. Your eyes, sewn shut and your fingers nails digging into his shoulders. He was so close and he could tell you were too. Lifting up your leg so he hung on a higher part of his waist so he could ground down at the perfect angle, knocking the wind outta you quickly, seeing white.

He stilled, cumming all over himself. Some seeping through the fabric smearing no your inner thighs. You had no feeling in your legs, and your mind was like TV static, fuzzy, tiring. Hongjoong slipped away for a moment, coming back in a fresh new pair of boxers and a clean damp towel in hand. He wiped you all the semen he could, before helping you into a new pair of underwear, tucking you back on your own bed. He kisses your forehead, having drifted off only moments ago.

He knew he wasn’t going to fuck you tonight. But as he slept he thought about ways to make your first time perfect. He would think of a place, and time. Does he take you out to a restaurant or would you prefer home cooked? He would think about how you’d like to be fuck, positions, styles. He was going to definitely fuck you on every surface of his place. And as he snuck off to the bathroom for the fourth time tonight having to adjust or end up fixing, his problem, he knew he was most likely a dead man. And he was going to enjoy every moment of it.

Part Three

#ateez #ja3hwa #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez reaction #ateez reactions #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez scenario #ateez fanfiction #ateez x female reader #ateez x reader #ateez x reader smut #ateez fic #atz hongjoong #atz reactions #atz smut #atz fluff #atz drabbles #atz hard hours #atz imagines #atz scenarios #atz x reader #atz fanfic #hongjoong smut #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong #hongjoong

[boiohboii]

Protective girl (Charles Leclerc x reader)

Inspires by @charles-eclair16 's fic

When fans go too far, yn wants to protect the one treasure in her life

or

in which we finally get to see the roles reversed

N.B: this is been in my drafts for so long, omg! Let me know what you guys think!! WARNING: not proof read, some swear words, might have messed up a date, don't focus on any dates mentioned, this is all fictional anyways. Hope you guys like it

masterlist

Liked by Arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55, pierregasly and 1,379,064 others

itsmeyn: charles always goes above and beyond for every single fan of his, he tries to take as many pictures and sign as many autographs as possible, but what happened last night was a fucking joke. He doesn't like what I'm writing cause he says that it was just a mistake and that it was fine, but it really isn't, it's so disrespectful and disgusting! He always wants to meet his fans and make them happy only to receive this insanity, him falling AND HURTING HIMSELF because some of you can't fucking wait and be organized like a human being! Charles isn't an animal in a zoo where you race to pet him! He is a human being, he is a son, a brother and a boyfriend! This wasn't just an accident, i have seen these 6 girls multiple times in multiple places! it's so obsessive and so so sick of you to follow him everywhere.... Charles won't speak up because he is Charles and he lives seeing the good in people, but I will tear everything and everyone for his safety, so for you 6 girls you will be hearing from court soon so better prepare a good lawyer you assholes!

Comments on this post have been disabled.

Liked by leclercboy, ynistheitgurl, fuckferarri and 91,739 others

F1_updates_live: Charles Leclerc's girlfriend, YN LN, seen today arriving in front of the UK's courthouse in a red SF9 Ferarri. It had been quite a week for YN as she was seen hitting a fan after the said fan pushed Charles. YN took this fan and 5 others to court, no one knows on what bases but what has come out is that she has won the case which means that Charles and YN have restraining orders against the group.

username: OHH HEEEELLL YEAAAAAHH

username: yn doing God's work

username: yn serving justice

username: that's what we needed

username: hot girl shit

username: the car and suit combo is so fucking hot of her

username: I think this is too much, like these girls just wanted to see Charles

username: @.itsmeyn can we make them 7?

username: another one

Liked by Charles_leclerc, danielricciardo, pierregasly and 617,829 others

itsmeyn: don't blame me, love made me crazy

username: YN IS A FELLOW SWIFTIE?!?!?

username: if I had a nickel for everytime yn and I had something in common I'd have 2 nickels, which is not a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

username: now I just want her to watch all the charles edits done with a taylor song

itsmeyn: who says i already don't 🌚

username: and I oop-

username: THIS IS THE SWEETEST AND CRINGIEST SHIT EVER!

Liked by wolfffam, maxverstappen1, lance_stroll and 817,629 others

itsmeyn: congratulations to my baby, the love of my life, you deserve it and so much more ♥️♥️

username: FINALLY!!

username: idk how to react, ferarri has let us down too many times that all I know is lose

username: I don't see how he deserves it tbh, all of his results are shit for quite a while , he's only where he is cause he's driving a ferarri 🤷‍♂️

itsmeyn: oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were the one in a formula one car, in a ferarri, that by the words of many professionals is at its worse era. I don't care about you and your opinion but don't state it as a fact, no one can do better with these strategies. I hate to keep saying this but when your own fucking team doesn't have the same dream as you it turns to shit. Even if charles is the only one in the car, it's still a team sport, not a one man sport. Fuck you and your tiny ass brain that can never survive one lap in a formula one car, it'll probably explode cause of all the bullshit in it before the first lap anyway. So next time you wanna talk shit maybe try to do fifth of who you're criticising is doing, I bet that'll shut you up real quick you dimwit.

Liked by leclercpascale, pilotesofmonaco, tswiftyn, and 52,719 others

F1_updates_live: YN LN, Charles' long time girlfriend, seen today fighting Xavi in Bahrain due to his mistake on the radio which resulted in Charles losing his podium position.

username: good for her

username: charles is so lucky

username: I love how she always stands up for him

username: honestly, whenever charles or carlos ignore the strategies they win... I really wanna see more of that.

username: this is just Monaco 2024 GP all over again, yn was so fucking furious (rightfully so) cause Xavi's mistake costed charles a p1 in his home race.

username: this shit was so heartbreaking man

username: I think this was the first time we ever saw yn angry at sabotaging charles, like the most we saw was her holding his hand when crossing the street, making sure he eats first, playing with his hair when nervous, but I've never seen yn make someone literally cry until 2024 with Xavi being her victim

username: pffft, victim, he 100% deserved it

username: oh yeah, definitely. All my homes hate Xavi, like can you not say the strategy properly 😒

#f1 social media au #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #charles leclerc #f1 #charles leclerc fluff #charles x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc one shot #charles x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles x yn #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc instagram au #charles leclerc twitter au

[milliesdiary]

Imagine if the reader is friends with Jace and Luke but also betrothed to Aemond, so when he makes that offensive toast at dinner, reader gets mad and confronts him. She says that if he actually loves her, then he would stop doing those things, which leads to a confession <3

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; after a fight-provoking tribute at a family dinner, you ask aemond — your friend and betrothed — where his feelings lie.

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; princess!reader from an unspecified house, fluff, a bit of spice ♡

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; thank you all for the support! also a big thank you for those who wanted to be tagged :) you keep me going! for anyone who reads this, please reblog and comment with your feedback. i fall in love with everyone who does and it means so much! i appreciate you & be sure to consider following to stay updated ✨

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬; @deeeeexx @cassianas @sweet-andromeda @thedeathofduty @evasgreentea @burningcoffeetimetravel

𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄.

It started off a bit rocky, to be fair. But then Viserys’ made a plea for peace, begged for the family to heal, and the tension melted like a slab of butter in a warm hand. Everything finally seemed to be falling into place.

Forgiveness was offered. The family was together. Your betrothed was complacent, despite being in the presence of his nephews. Alicent hid her laugh behind a hand, Rhaenyra’s pretty lips were curled into a smile that matched Daemon’s, Jace and Helaena were dancing — it was all perfect. 

You’re not even sure where it went wrong. It just did. 

You are laying in bed now, hours after the eventful gathering. The insomnia you're experiencing is a classic case; Aemond's tribute plays over and over in your head. You aren’t even remembering the crucial details, like what he said or what you ought to have said.

Instead, all you can recall are the expressions on Luke and Jace's faces, the way the lighthearted mood deteriorated, and the clang of your knife on your plate after dropping it in shock. 

You also remember storming out of the room. 

Truthfully, you are embarrassed at your future husband’s behavior. His smirk had been so arrogant that you wanted to meet it with a fist, and you probably would have if you could get away with it. 

You have been betrothed to Aemond for about a moon, and while you were aware of his distaste toward his nephews, you never thought he would disrupt his family as they attempt to repair the rift between them. 

Over a fucking pig. 

Maybe you should have expected it. 

You met Aemond when you were both children, as your father had established a peace treaty with the Targaryens at the beginning of his reign. You saw the boy get taller, watched his jaw sharpen, and stared on as his charm turned into the stern temperament of a man. He learned to ignore the things that do not serve him. 

You knew that Aemond became a person of duty, of justice; he would not let things go that easily. He held a grudge with the incident. Losing his eye. 

Taking that into consideration, this should not have been that big of a surprise.

And Gods, do you still want to marry him. When your father informed you about the betrothal, you were overjoyed, fit to burst, chest suddenly stuffed with the warmth of the sun and a billion ‘what ifs.’ 

Aemond has fascinated you throughout the years; he has always seemed so at ease and still. Unhurried and righteous. He can remain at the fireplace for a considerable amount of time, leaving you to constantly wonder what he might be thinking and how he is able to survive in such solitude.

You love him. Always have, though you are too scared to tell him. Part of you wonders if he shares the same affections. 

But there’s no chance of that, is there? Aemond does not allow himself to experience attraction or establish attachments. There is no changing that. He must have agreed to the proposal because it was the right political choice; there is no other reason why he would have accepted. 

Aemond loving you back? It’s impossible. 

You roll over onto your side and stare at the window that sits across the room, trying to focus on the moonlight drifting through. It takes about thirty seconds of dead silence for you to realize that you might just go insane. You’re literally about to grab an extra pillow and shove it over your face — with the plan of suffocating yourself to sleep — when you hear a knock on your chamber door.

The noise almost makes you jump. For a moment, you consider not answering it, but curiosity refuses to bid you farewell. You crawl out of the sheets and reach for a match on your dresser, flicking it against the wood to conjure a flame. You ignite the oil lamp that sits on your nightstand, the light basking the room in a warm, orange glow.

You are just making your way over to the door when the knock comes again. Straightening out your nightgown and taking a deep breath, you open it. 

Despite the darkness of the stone hallway, you recognize Aemond immediately. 

No, it‘s not just his chiseled face that gives him away, or the long silver hair that drapes over his shoulders. It isn’t the black leather tunic he wears, hugging his lean chest. It is the way he stands: the confident way he waits for you, chin high, strong and assertive. 

He’s too perfect, despite being one of the most imperfect people you know.

“Princess,” Aemond greets. His eye briefly looks you up and down before focusing on your face again. “Green suits you.” 

Your gaze flicks down to your nightgown — made from a beautiful silk and a deep emerald, decorated in golden floral designs. It was a gift from the Queen; even though you and Aemond had not married yet, she happily proposed that you start to wear the family’s house colors. You accepted, of course. 

Aemond’s compliment is so genuine that you don't know how to respond. You feel a sense of pride at his admiration. “I do not wear the color much,” you shrug, trying to sound unbothered. “But I will get used to it over time.” 

“You shall,” Aemond nods. He seems pleased. Pleased that you will become a Targaryen, that you will be dressed in the color of his house until the end of your days. It is a reminder that you’re his. All his. 

“My Prince,” you change the subject. “Might I ask what you are doing outside my chambers this late?”

“I have come to talk.”

You fix him with a blank stare. Talk? The last thing you want to do is talk. 

“Where did my guard go?” you ask slowly.

“I advised he take a walk.” 

You get a feeling that the conversation with your sworn knight did not play out that way, but this is your future husband; it probably would not be a good idea to go to sleep on a bitter note. Biting back a retort and a sigh, you open your chamber door and wave him in. Aemond struts in casually. 

He acts like he owns the place with how he stands directly in the center. You dawdle by the doorway, allowing him to observe the space: he takes in the fireplace, the golden decor, and then your bed, draped in silks and the pillows similar to the fluff of clouds. It’s a beautiful room, you must admit. You take pride in it. 

“You are upset about the tribute, I presume,” Aemond says finally, turning to face you. That eye of his is the perfect shade of violet; purple like a flowering bruise, unclouded and intense and determined.

“I am not upset anymore,” you lie. “I do not care.”

“You do care.”

“No.”

It is quiet for a second. Not a word uttered.

Then Aemond pries you right open. “You do.”

“Fine. I do.”

“And why is that, Princess?” He almost taunts.

You want to snap at Aemond — ask him what he means and how can he take something like this so simply. It is not a joke. A civil war is brewing among his family, yet he does not take it seriously at all. He even seems to take joy in participating. The idea has you seething.

Here Aemond is, continuing to pretend that he is harmless, that his touch is gentle, that his palms won't burn handprints into your skin. You would almost believe it if you didn’t know any better. 

“With all due respect, My Prince, Jace and Luke are my dearest friends. They are kind and loyal to me, as well as their family.” 

Aemond hums, uninterested. "A dog possesses the same traits.” 

An anger gathers within you. It screams right into your face: this is how it shall be and you will have to deal with it. 

“You are playing quite the jester today, My Prince,” you tell him. I would like to slap you across the face, is what you’re truly thinking.

Aemond lets out an amused huff at that. The light from the lamp in the corner of the room dances along his silhouette, illuminating every plane of his face. His hair is a white, jewel-drenched curtain — there’s the urge to run your hands through it. 

How can someone so gorgeous cause so much chaos? 

"I am exhausted," you finally sigh. You can feel how hardened your expression has become. “I am finished with miscommunications and arguments. I have tried to refrain from intense emotions and confrontations. The moment I entered King’s Landing, I told you that there was to be no drama. You promised me. And what you did at dinner? That is the trouble I stray from, yet you seem so content in dragging me back in.” 

Aemond’s mouth threatens to twitch into a scowl then. He’s trying to keep his face neutral, though annoyance peeks through the cracks in his façade. “You are acting as if jests are more harmful than stealing an eye.”

“I am not saying that. I am saying that if you are to be my husband, you should be shielding me from conflict. Not causing it.”

Aemond has nothing to say to that apparently. He just gazes at you piercingly, that one violet eye intently focused on you. You try to remain steadfast, although you do feel like shrinking under the chill of his stare. Somehow, you find the courage to continue. 

“If you truly respect me as your future wife — if you truly love me — then you would cease this petty game.” You steel yourself, begging yourself to be bold and ask the question. “Do you love me, Aemond?”

For a moment, you catch how Aemond’s face changes into one of surprise; he obviously was not expecting that question. It takes a couple of seconds before he fixes his jaw, training his expression into something more cool. Practiced. Poised. But then he looks at you; truly looks at you, stares you down from the inside out. “I should be asking you the same thing.” 

You freeze, almost shocked by the rebuttal. You can tell he is being serious: there is a sincerity with which he wants to know. 

Aemond may be wild and deranged like a dragon, thirsting for havoc, but he still aches for approval and acknowledgment. Always has. Perhaps that’s what he wants; he wants to hear that even though he fails at kindness and charity, you are still able to love him.

“Tell me,” Aemond demands. Before you can say anything, he strides forward until he’s standing right in front of you. He leans into your space, breath fluttering along your cheeks and voice almost threatening. “Do you love me? For my righteousness that drives you mad and for my lack in restraint that you so despise?” 

The fire inside Aemond could kill anyone in a five mile radius; he knows it. Yet he still wants you to love him, to bravely walk into the tempest. Locate him amongst each dancing flame.

“I will accept every piece of you,” is all you can choke out.

Aemond seems to mull the words over. His face is terrifyingly neutral as he observes you carefully; he must not know impatience. 

“You still never answered my question,” You blurt. “Do you love me?”

Tell me you love me, is what you really want to say.

Aemond’s face remains blank for a second.

Unbeknownst to you, he’s almost offended at the inquiry. After all the years you have spent together, all the conversations and the secrets shared and the plights experienced — how could you utter such a thing? He was the one who spoke to his mother about proposing to you. Do you really think he did it for political gain? To secure a higher seat in the ranks of royalty? 

Aemond almost sneers at your ignorance. “How much longer must we be together before you acknowledge that I am not doing this for power?”

“That does not comfort me, Aemond.”

Silence. Dead silence.

The lack of an answer from Aemond makes you worry: worry that you struck a chord within him, that you have irritated him enough for him to leave, that you have made him regret accepting you as his wife. 

But something changes. Slowly — agonizingly slow — Aemond takes both of your hands into his, like a silent vow without words. A white flag of surrender. His profile relaxes into something slightly softer, more reserved. 

At the end of the day, he is to be your husband. If you need comfort, he will give you comfort, even if it means he has to be vulnerable.

Just for you. Only for you.

“When we were children, you once accused me of not knowing the meaning of love," Aemond starts. "But you were wrong."

You begin to breathe faster, grateful he can only discern the the direction of your emotions and nothing more. Hearing those words makes you feel something; it flutters inside your lower belly and is comparable to hope. 

“I do not give a shit about anyone but you,” Aemond admits. His voice is low, deep, sincere. You almost cannot believe it. 

“Is that so?” You try to sound indifferent, but it’s not convincing. His face is so, so close: your noses are almost touching.

“I would not say it if it weren’t the truth,” Aemond hums. “I did not know how to deal with my affections before, nor did I accept them. You have tortured me into becoming someone I am not.”

Tortured?

“I don’t understand—“

“You are the sword I gut myself with; that, Princess, is love."

That’s it. That’s all you needed; that reassurance, that validation. Every single ache in your heart is extinguished in a single second, every wound healed, every internalized scar covered in gauze and bandages and the homeliness that accompanies love. 

More. You want him to say more. “…And you will continue to love me?”

“You are mine until death, my dear wife. I am your monster for the rest of time. I am your insanity. I am yours.”

“And me?” You whisper. You’re struggling to focus, trying to remember that you’re mad at him, but his lips are right in front of yours.

Your question nearly makes Aemond chuckle. He holds it back, a sharp exhale of air coming from his nose instead. “You are my refuge.” 

“Your refuge?”

“My refuge,” Aemond repeats, his expression more resolute. “I can envision no other peace beyond the one that exists when our bodies are bound.”

“And you prefer me?” You want to be showered in his love, again and again. “Over anyone else?”

“I would choose you over all,” Aemond purrs. His tone, his accent — you could crumple to your knees. "The world is cruel and it steals from everyone, so I shall do the same. I will take what I wish. I will take you every time you are offered.”

Goosebumps threaten to rise from your body. Aemond’s hand comes down to rest on your waist, causing your breath to come out as a stutter. You’re not sure how you haven't disintegrated into nothingness. “I have loved you forever, Aemond.”

A warmth akin to sunshine rises in his face and he almost looks humored. You need him. And he needs you, though he may not outwardly admit it; needs you like you’re oxygen and he's trying to catch a breath.

Suddenly, Aemond’s hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you in for a kiss. Your fingers fly up to grip his shoulders when your lips touch, opening your jaw for him on instinct. You grab a fistful of his leather tunic and kiss him as hard as possible, allowing his hands to conquer your body. He tastes of peppermint, smells musky like dragon. 

Everything seems to be on fire. The pit of your stomach, your blood, his mouth. All you feel is the strength of his silhouette against your own and you want to remember this forever. With how Aemond holds you so firmly — almost like you might disappear any second — you can tell he feels the same. You have the power to kiss away his suffering, his years of self-hatred, his doubts, and the crushed dreams of an irrelevant future that he always imagined.

Aemond’s hands roam to your lower back, thumbs digging into the silky fabric of your nightgown. You draw him closer, brushing your thigh against his crotch to get a reaction out of him. He lets out a ‘hmm’ into your mouth.

There is nothing you desire more than to examine Aemond in full view with all lamplights on and his clothing off, to have him slowly remove this gown from your body and take his time with touching every inch. You want to run your fingertips across the ridged skin of his scar and trace it all the way down. You want to feel the weight of him flush against you, wrapped around you. You want him. 

Finally, you draw away, only to whisper. 

“You said you would take me whenever I am offered. Take me then, Aemond.”

A fire alights in Aemond’s eye — he’s considering it — but the flames quickly freeze over with that sense of duty. Self-control. “Not like this,” he murmurs. “But I vow to treat you to obscenities when I bed you. I will leave such marks on your body that anyone you entertain afterwards will have to know me in order to know you.”

Aemond’s words have the ability to make you shiver. It only makes you more excited for your wedding day. Even then, you still want him in this moment. Need his presence.

“Stay with me tonight, at least,” you plead. “Just share the bed with me. Nothing else. I will bribe the guards tomorrow morning so we will not get caught.” 

Aemond considers you for a long while. Then, without a word, he smiles. It’s sly, yes, but oh-so beautiful.

“So you will stay?” You ask again. Aemond hums in agreement, cradling your cheek in a palm. It is a tenderness that you were not expecting, but one that you accept heartily. He nods his head before speaking.

“If you put your hand in mine, my dear wife, I will always hold it.” 

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond smut #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond fic #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon x reader #hotd imagine #hotd fic #millie’s works — 📓

[spacerockfloater]

I’m going to preface this post by saying I don’t give a flying fuck about the hate I’m going to receive for the opinion I will be sharing and I won’t bother replying to any comments attacking me for it.

I fucking LOVE that Aemond killed Luke and I wish it wasn’t accidental. I wish Luke’s death was full on intentional, lol.

As a victim of bullying, I’ve been in situations where I have had to fend off 20+ kids as a kid myself. I’ve been verbally, physically, emotionally and psychologically assaulted as a child by other children, simply because I wanted, strived for and had good grades in school, actions that did not affect any of my classmates in the slightest. Therefore, I absolutely sympathise with Aemond, whose lack of dragon and later on his acquisition of one hurt no one (dragons belong to no one, you snooze you lose), yet he still got ridiculed and attacked for it. Yes, Aegon was also a bully and I hate him for it, but ultimately he grows out of it and supports his family, unlike the Strong bastards who remain bullies and assaulters. Oh, and Aemond tried to hit Jace with a rock because he attacked him first. Accusing him for standing up for himself is victim blaming. People who defend the Strong boys are bullies and that’s final.

No, I don’t give a rat’s ass that his attackers were children. Aemond was a child, too, and they ganked him 4v1. It’s crazy how some of y’all support physically attacking someone because you don’t agree with them. It was satisfying to see him kick their teeth in. Aemond and Luke are only 2 years apart, even if the actors’ appearances suggest otherwise. Your age does not excuse you being a fucking piece of shit. Children and teenagers appear on the news daily as rapists, killers, assaulters and all kind of criminals. That’s the reason juvie exists. Children should face the consequences of their actions.

“Are you excusing child murder?” if it is by the hand of the child they unapologetically disabled, fuck yeah. Besides, at the end of the day, Aemond dies, too, so you could say justice is served.

Still, I would have given the Strong boy the benefit of the doubt if it weren’t for this scene:

Lucerys is laughing at Aemond.

He is looking him in the eye and he is laughing at him. It’s been 6 fucking years. Lucerys is 17 (confirmed by the writers) and he feels no remorse for what he did. He was not punished for his action, so he has learned nothing.

He feels safe to mock Aemond, in the comfort and safety of his grandfather’s house, where his guard and stepdad can stop Aemond, whom he cannot beat on his own, from bashing his head against the wall. He feels safe to attack Aemond when he calls him Strong, knowing that other people will finish the fight he started but can’t win.

But what happens when no one is around to protect him from the consequences of his own actions? He shits himself. His face falls, he stumbles backwards and does not object to Aemond calling him Strong.

Not laughing now, huh, you little shit stain?

#hotd #hotd critical #pro team green #anti targ stans #anti team black #team green #team black #lucerys targaryen #prince lucerys #lucerys strong #lucerys velaryon #anti lucerys velaryon #pro aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen #prince aemond #anti rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #pro alicent hightower #alicent hightower #anti daemon targaryen #anti targ restoration #anti targaryen #anti bullying #asoiaf #asoif/got #house targaryen #house hightower

[lustlovehart]

Genre: Nsfw (Afab Reader | No Pronouns)

Warnings: Oral (F receiving), He has a forked tongue, Semi-public(Neuvillettes Office), overstimulation, multi orgasms, gets a little fluffy at the end.

Neuvillette invites you to join in on his water tasting hobby, but instead of him taste testing water, he’s taste testing you.

He has you splayed on his desk as he greedily drinks you up with his long forked tongue, quaffing your essence down his throat as if he was a thirst ridden man who hadn’t drunk water for centuries.

At this point, even though you’re not tied to the desk, it feels as if you’re bounded to the surface, with the way your body can only writhe in pleasure at his advances, your mind so far gone you cant even think anymore. You’ve came at least 4 times already with his tongue, and you’re sure he still wants more from you.

He tightens the grip he has on your thighs, his gloved hands being a barrier between you and him, the leather material preventing him the direct skin to skin contact he wants.

His tongue feels like it’s reaching deeper than it did before, his thumb massaging your clit in circles as he keeps devouring you like its his last day on earth. A knot starts to tighten in your stomach, fingers racing to pull on the Ludex’s long hair. Your throat is hoarse as straggled moans come out your mouth, trying your best to be quiet so Furina won’t hear from across the building.

“Neuvillette…!” You can’t help the squeal that comes from deep in your throat when he replies to you with an ‘mm?’ The low sound causing a vibration to go through you. “Too… Too much…!”

“I know dear, just one more…” his breath sounds heavy, as if he was to busy pleasuring you to focus on breathing. Before you knew it, the knot deep within your core had come undone on his tongue, white filling your vision as your eyes roll back from the pleasure. Even at your climax he could stop drinking from your body.

The moment your orgasm had reached his taste buds, he immediately sped up, not wanting to waste a drop of what you had given him. His tongue greedily licked up the leftovers of your essence, further driving you over the edge.

"Are we... Finished now...?" Your breathing was ragged, different heavy exhaled and inhales filling the silence of Neuvillette's office.

He was the ludex of Fontaine, despite the circumstances he wouldnt possibly lie would he?

Life seemed to lie to you as well, with the way he so convincingly said one more time you believed him, only to be proven wrong by the countless other 'one more' times he proclaimed.

"Neuv...Ilette.. You liar..." you struggled to even think of the words to speak, your mind was insanely numb to your thoughts.

"I'm sorry my dear, it would be an extreme injustice to me to never properly taste you in a way you would enjoy as well"

"Ju-justice...? What are you talking abou- ah...!" The familiar feeling had returned to your lower half, the tightening of your entrance immediately catching his attention. He sped up his advances once more his tongue practically fucking you itself.

Moans are all that leave your lips as your realease on his tongue, this oragsm being even more powerful than the last, but that might just be because of how overstimulated you really were.

His lips finally left your body, strings of your climax sticking to his chin, his lips glistening from the left overs of your essence. Your left essentially dazed from reality as you lay tired on the man's desk. His blue eyes stare admiringly on your body.

His once gloved hands are now naked, his fingers tracing into your skin. He takes your body off of the surface of his desk, sitting you in his lap as his fingers play with your hair.

"In my own eyes, serving you is the highest justice I could ever ask for."

#Vesnsfw #neuvilette x reader #neuvilette smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #alright i wrote my monthly smut back to my other stuff

[shaisuki]

Can you please do Reo's reaction to pregnant y/n's death?

REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED COLD

FT. YANDERE! HUSBAND MIKAGE REO

content warnings: character death, complications of birth and pregnancy, blood, suicide, talks about killing a child. dead dove not eat.

notes: i hope i did this one justice.

synopsis: you got the best revenge you can ever serve to him.

everything was a blur.

from the moment your water broke and the contractions coming apart since you insisted on walking around the hospital. a week from your due date and the baby is coming.

you were instantly whisked and prepped up for your birth. nurses and doctors surrounding you and you were like the fucking vip and treated like you were about to give birth to a king. it could pass as well. since you were going to be the mother of the mikage heir.

reo arrives within the first minute of your contractions. dressed in a medical gown and he's by your side. holding your hand and whispering sweet nothings to you. encouraging that you were both to have a baby and it will be done in the next minutes.

fucking asshole. he's babbling. this is how reo gets when he's happy. excited that you were about to give birth to his child and you wondered if this was really his intention to you in the first place. popping his heirs like they were easy to come by. he should have hired woman who were willing to be a surrogate or someone whose more than willing to give his wants and demands.

unfortunately for you. reo wants you and he wants he gets it.

the pain was blinding. your muscles screaming for you to rest. your eyes who can't stop the tears from flowing from how painful it was. the doctors encouraged you to push. the baby is crowning and you need to get it out. you muster what strength is left in you and with that flashes of light dances in your vision and your ears ringing.

it took a you a few seconds to register the cheers of the doctors and your baby's cries echoing in the room.

it's alive?

the baby's alive?

this couldn't be happening. the chances are high of you losing the baby so then why this damned child of yours have to live. does they want to suffer the same fate as you? why are you having this thoughts you were sure you were to suffer.

you make out reo's smile despite the harshness of the light in the room. he's all smile. you barely can make out the words he's spouting but you feel his hands on you. your head hitting the pillows once again.

this is it. he's finally a father. you gave him a son. a heir. he couldn't be more prouder than what he is feeling right now. he have a family he can call his own. he can continue his legacy.

he looks at you proudly. kissing you like there's no tomorrow but why are you frowning? aren't you happy that you're a mother now? what are you sad? why are you turning pale?

the machine beeps in a hurried manner. mimicking your heartbeat and the doctors surrounding you are in full attention. sweat drips in their forehead at the sudden beep of the machine. eyes wide at the sudden symptoms of one of the complications of birth they didn't think would happen. you were bleeding. soaking the sheets in a heavy flow that the doctors were almost shouting at the nurses to prepare the equipment to aid you.

what was happening to you?

suddenly you were aware of what's about to happen to you. your body aches more than usual. muscles turning weaker and your eyelids felt heavy. you can hear them. desperately trying to save you but you were beyond saving. it looks like your prayers were heard.

you would relish on the expression reo was having. horrified at the sight that his wife is dying on this table. you deserve it. you ruined my life and i will ruin yours.

reo sees you trying to grab him and he takes your hand in his. a smile plastered on your face and you pull reo with your remaining strength and then you began to whisper. the words that will haunt him for the rest of his life.

“this is your karma, reo.” his eyes widens at your confession. “you're going to lose me and i-i feel bad for our child, he didn't die with me instead he won't grow up without his mother and he would have a father like you.”

and with that, the futile attempts of the doctor came to stop when your heartbeat turned into a flatline in the monitor and you closed your eyes. forever.

it's finished now. you were gone. he drops your cold hand. the image of your laying in the table with your cold, lifeless body will continue to replay for the rest of his life. this should not be happening. he wants to scream to the doctors attending to you why such tragedy happened. to himself. you were supposed to be alive. raising his child with you.

he left the room shortly after you were pronounced dead. walking aimlessly at the hospital and his sight caught in the corner of his eyes are nurses tending to his newborn child.

he couldn't bear to look at his child for a second longer and that's how you get your revenge on him for the hell he put you through.

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝ #chubby reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x chubby reader #yandere blue lock x reader #yandere mikage reo x reader #yandere mikage reo #mikage reo #reo mikage #mikage reo x reader #blue lock x chubby reader

[clockwork-garden]

More Nimona posting because DAMN I just love this movie

Everything about the final "battle" (it's not really a battle because Nimona isn't fighting them) is so good and so perfectly representative of the current assault on (and attempted genocide of) queer people in the US.

Even in her full-on black mist beast form*, Nimona only makes one single attack against anything in the city when she swipes at the billboard advertising the monster slayer board game. Other than that, all the destruction is caused by the knights attacking her. We see it right away too, when several of their missiles fly off and hit nearby buildings.

*(I don't want to call it a "monster form" because even if that's how the people saw her, she wasn't a monster, just a super depressed bean)

The drones strafing Nimona do more damage to the streets and buildings than to her, but they keep firing anyways until there's a trail of fire and destruction in her wake. All anyone sees is the fire behind the monster; they don't see what actually caused it.

And of course, the Director is willing to annihilate half the city in order to kill one person.

But don't worry, she's one of The Good Guys, so it's okay. When the people at the top of the hierarchy do bad things it's okay, because being at the top of the hierarchy means they're actually good people and can't do anything wrong.

Feels familiar, right? One trans high school kid wants to play soccer and suddenly tHe wOrLd iS eNDiNg ermahgerd fAmILy vAlUeS aaahhh LET'S SEND THEM SOME DEATH THREATS!!!!

But a conservative politician demonstrably engages in sex trafficking or SAs people and nothing happens to them.

Now people can refuse to serve you because the Supreme Court is an offense to the concept of justice (it already was; the recent decisions just enforce my opinion), and you know that this is going to affect the cishets too. GNC cis woman? Get the fuck out, creep. Straight boy with good fashion sense? We don't serve your kind here. Never mind if you're visibly queer.

The metaphor breaks down a bit because, while conservatives are more than willing to burn society down just to screw over queer people, they're also sexist, racist, ableist, classist (though the Director is also classist af, which I love), etc etc etc. Taking away women's rights, making queer people illegal, and removing what few social safety nets we have are all part of the plan.

The Director wanted to fire the cannon into the city to kill one "monster" at the expense of half the city. Conservatives are firing the cannon into the city because they hate half the city.

#nimona movie #nimona #nimona spoilers #lgbtq #lgbt rights #queer #fuck the supreme court #trans #transfemme #trans rights #women's rights #trans masc

[stinkyme]

Hello! This is something I had in mind heavily discussed with my sweet Q(utie) (@iovetecchou ) and this is an alteration of one fluff request I had, I hope you like it and enjoy it! :)

CW/TW: NSFW, fem!reader (no pronouns used), needy!Tecchou, semi-public sex (inside of the tent), a biiiiiit of dry humping, cliche plot, established relationship, vaginal penetration, ass grabbing (lovingly :3), fucking sideways (?), Tecchou placing his hand on the reader's mouth, a little bit of biting, more loving and romantic sex, creampie, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

I apologize for any mistakes in advance!

Needy much? || Tecchou Suehiro x Reader

It was a very cold night when you had a mission. Hunting Dogs knew no pain or limitations when it comes to serving justice. So now, you had to camp in a forest with Tecchou, Jouno and Tachihara. You made a deal to use two tents - one for Jouno and Tachihara, second one for Tecchou and you. This was fine by all of you and soon enough you set up your tents and all went to sleep after chatting near the fire for a while. Tecchou and you had separate sleeping bags, hoping that they may help more with the cold.

But the night's awfully freezing breeze was making it harder for you to fall asleep. You were tossing and turning, then tried to get into the fetus position to provide more comfort and warmth for yourself. It was futile. You could feel cold sneaking inside of your bones, your body uncontrollably shaking. You tried to take a deep breath to free your muscles from tension, but that just made it worse. Tecchou was aware of this, hearing the material of your sleeping bag continuously rustling and moving.

"You can sleep here with me." he whispers, trying not to startle you.

"No, no, it's fine." you reply through shaky teeth, taking another deep breath to try and somehow receive any warmth.

"Don't be stubborn. Just come here. Or should I come there?" he replies in a casual, almost monotone tone as he nods to himself quickly, getting out of his sleeping bag. 

"No, it's fine. Really." you somehow choke out words, still trembling. He doesn't say anything, just takes his sweater off and opens up the zipper of your sleeping bag. You barely turn your head to take a look, widening your eyes at the sight in front of you.

"Are you insane? You will freeze to death like that." you say in a sharp tone, a wave of warmth spreading inside your body as you get slightly irritated.

"Not exactly. Skin to skin contact is the best if you want to get warm. So..take your clothes off." he says so casually that it's almost nerve wrenching. He is almost always so calm that sometimes you wonder if it is a huge prank of his.

"You are insane." you say as you turn around, stubborn to prove him wrong.

"And you are freezing, so do as you are told. Or do you wish for me to freeze to death?" his voice was calm and monotone. You could feel your eye twitch and you quickly got up, taking off your sweater. You were looking at him for a good moment as you threw your top aside.

"Happy now?" you ask him in an annoyed tone and he nods.

"Pants too." he says as he gets up, quickly takes his pants off and slowly adjusts himself in the sleeping bag.

"Fine. At least you annoying me made me forget about how cold I am. I will give you that." you say, still a bit shaky as you take your pants off and position yourself in a sleeping bag. You turn your back to Tecchou, his torso immediately warming them up.

"Happy to help." he replies in a soft tone as he puts his arm over your waist and brings you even closer to him. You sigh out, finally getting warmer and warmer. Tecchou kisses your shoulder gently before he nuzzles his face into your back. He gently puts pressure with his fingertips on your tummy as he starts placing kisses down your back, as far as he can reach in such a tight space. You sigh out again, this time from pleasure and relaxation that his warm lips were providing. Tecchou slowly moves back up, pulling you in closer to him and pressing your body into his. You close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the warmth that was finally settling in your body. Shortly after, you can feel Tecchou barely moving his hips, softly rolling them in and out. You could feel a slight bulge that was forming inside his pants as his cock got harder. You smile to yourself as he moves his hand down your waist using his fingertips, softly grasping your hip and squeezing it as he starts moving his hips slightly faster.

"Needy much?" you whisper following with a silent laugh as he kisses one of your shoulder blades. He kisses the other one, then places a kiss in the middle of them before answering.

"Mhm. Maybe just a bit." he replies softly, using his elbow as leverage to get himself up and look at you. He continues tracing his fingertips up and down your hip and waistline, slowly making a half turn to trace over your back and up to your shoulder. You could feel his bulge growing and pressing into your ass as you turned around to look at him. Tecchou's gaze was low and lickerish, he had a certain seriousness to him, unlike his usual, more calm and disinterested looking self. He kept moving his hips, still rubbing his hard cock into you as he kept watching you as if asking for permission.

"What if Jouno hears?" you whisper out, feeling your cunt tensing and relaxing. The idea of getting possibly caught and heard shouldn't be as exciting as it is right now, but hell. He looked way too lovely right now to be denied. And you felt the desire way too much to deny yourself as well.

"Then we just have to be extremely quiet. Can you do that?" he whispers, leaning closer to you as he gently bites your earlobe and slides the tip of his tongue over it. You feel a slight noise getting caught inside of your throat before nodding. You knew it was futile, Jouno would hear regardless, but you were not thinking with your brain currently, so it didn't really matter.

"Good." he whispers in your ear, his warm breath sending slight shivers down your body as he slides his hand down, slowly and delicately pulling your panties as you lift your hips to help him. He slid them down to your knees and started slowly caressing your thigh, absolutely mesmerized with you. He was never much of a talker, but his touches and the way he was looking at you were telling enough. 

He then moves his hand up, softly squeezing your ass as he lets almost inaudible sigh out. Moving his hand slightly further, he lets his fingertips touch the area of your inner lips just to see how wet you are. You tremble as he barely touches you, his fingertips feeling like delicate, soft feathers on your needy cunt. He puts his forehead on the side of your head, positioning his head in such a way that his lips are close to your ear and once he feels the amount of precum that was leaking, you could sense a shaky breath coming out of his lips. He moves his hand away, slowly pulling his own boxers down and pumps his cocl few times before he lines it up with your entrance. You feel him rubbing his tip on your inner lips and you let a soft breath out, trying not to make any sound. He uses his index and middle finger alongside his thumb to spread your precum over his cock before he puts his tip back at your entrance.

He moves the forearm of his arm that he was using as leverage to put under your head. Pulling his head away from you, he adjusts his hips so he gets more space and better angle before he starts slowly sliding his cock between your folds. You close your eyes tightly, trying to focus on not making any sudden or loud sounds as you feel him spreading your cunt more as he goes deeper. You can't see, but Tecchou's lips are apart, his gaze burning into your skin as he focuses as well, trying not to make any sounds. As he slides half of his cock inside, you can feel a mellow whimper escape your throat, making you quickly close your mouth as he finally slides full length inside of you.

You can feel his body already trembling as he starts thrusting, very slow and very precisely, moving his hand on your hip for more support. You turn your head around to finally look at him, there's an evident concentration in his face and you could tell how much he was holding back. Slightly arching your back, you provide a better angle for both of you as he slightly speeds up his movement, now perfectly reaching and stimulating your g-spot. You can feel yourself getting already worked up as you keep looking at him. Not only was he providing you wonderful sensations, but looking at his broad shoulders and muscular chest made a knot of warmth inside of your cunt.

He looks at you for a moment as he keeps thrusting and leans in as much as possible, letting you meet him half-way as he places a soft kiss on your lips. You look at him with a half-lidded gaze as he starts moving a bit faster, pressuring your g-spot in much shorter and more intense intervals. Your lips part as you feel yourself trying to choke in a moan and he places his lips on top of yours, muffling out any sounds. Tecchou's tongue finds yours quickly, the tip of it gently sliding over yours. Your kiss grows more passionate and lustful as his hand squeezes your hip more before sliding down and slightly lifting your ass cheek just to spread your cunt more for him. As he thrusts next time, you can feel him much more inside of you, the pressure on your sensitive spot getting even more stimulating and pleasurable, making you let out a louder whimper inside his mouth. He pulls away from the kiss quickly, slightly gasping in as the pleasure gets more intense for him as well.

"Sorry." you whisper out quickly, your eyes closing on their own as you just wish to enjoy the moment. Tecchou shakes his head, reassuring you like that as he is afraid that if he speaks, he will make a noise. He was squeezing your ass cheek a little, his fingernails digging into your skin as the pleasure was slowly getting overbearing. He speeds up his movement, keeping up his tenderness, but thrusting in you in quicker intervals. You could feel your g-spot burning in the best way possible as the tip of his cock kept stimulating it. Your cunt was leaking more precum making Tecchou throw his head back a bit as the way his eyebrows knitted upwards revealed how sensitive he currently was.

You somehow lean into his chest, slightly tilting your head backwards and placing a soft kiss on one of his pecs. Your breath was shaky, you could feel the pressure of you holding back your moans and whimpers in your throat and eyes that were slightly tearing up. Tecchou started moving even faster making you gasp in as a louder moan mixes in making you cover your mouth. He lets out a dim, almost inaudible whimper as his grip on your ass softens. He moves his hand up, his fingertips tracing over your waistline before he places his hand around your jaw, keeping it in place. You turn your head around, looking away from him as he softens his grip on your jaw, sliding his hand upwards and placing it over your mouth. He slows down his movement, thrusting more slowly and messy now as a soft moan escapes his lips once he feels your pussy clenching around him from the lack of intensity. 

"Fuck." he whispers under his breath as his fingertips press into your cheek. You let out a dissatisfied sound that was muffled by his hand. He moves his hand away from your mouth, sliding it down your body, finally reaching the back of your thigh. He sneaks his fingers between your legs, lifting the leg that was on top of the other as he starts thrusting faster now, his tip relentlessly kissing your sweet spot. 

You lick two of your fingers, placing them on your clit afterwards. You start drawing small circles on it as Tecchou still holds your thigh for support, his thrusts are steady and medium paced. You let out a very soft moan, almost inaudible, but still quickly close your mouth, choking the sounds inside your throat. Tecchou's cock kept stimulating your g-spot alongside perfect pressure and pace of your fingers, making you roll your eyes in pleasure. You could feel your cunt clenching and pulsating making Tecchou's cock throb and twitch as you were leaking more precum with each thrust and circle on your clit.

You turn your head a little bit, taking a quick look at Tecchou who was slightly biting into his bottom lip, trying his best to stay silent, barely breathing. He picks up faster movement, squeezing your thigh as he was getting overwhelmed with sensations of your pussy. He was relentlessly pressing your g-spot regardless of his thrusts being softish and you picked up the pace of your fingers, matching his. You could feel a tingling and warm sensation slowly building up inside of you as your orgasm was approaching. Tecchou keeps up his movement, his cock throbbing more as your cunt keeps leaking, closer to his own orgasm. He leans in closer to you, placing his lips right above your shoulder blade and gives a quick kitten lick to that spot before biting into it. You let out a choked whimper as you keep circling on your clit, closer and closer to orgasm.

"Fuck, I think Jouno heard that." you whisper out, slightly breathless as Tecchou's cock keeps stimulating your sensitive spot.

"Who cares?" he whispers into the bitten skin before biting into the skin between your neck and shoulder, as gently as possible. You let out another soft whimper as you can feel his cock even more inside of you now as your cunt keeps clenching each time he hits your g-spot. You keep moving your fingers on your clit as Tecchou's fingers on your thigh keep giving light squeezes. Your body starts feeling warmer and warmer as you get slightly lightheaded, both of you keep up your pace as you arch your back just a little bit, to get that last bit of intensity on your g-spot.

You can feel your eyes watering as the tip of Tecchou's cock pressures your g-spot perfectly and deeper than before and as he keeps thrusting into you and your fingers perfectly satisfy all sensitive spots of your clit. Your body starts shaking and you almost subconsciously keep your breath in as your orgasm finally bursts inside of you. You keep your mouth open, but almost nothing comes out besides a very small whimper. Tecchou bites more harshly into the same spot of your skin as your hips quiver and twitch from your orgasm.

His cock begins throbbing and softening inside of your messy cunt as he lets out whimpers that were muffled by your skin. You can feel his quick, warm breath on it as your orgasm slowly starts melting away - his is approaching. Tecchou's pace gets messy as he squeezes your thigh, his fingers locking in place as he finally reaches his own orgasm; a whip of cum filling you up. You get tingles as a few drops of cum slide between your thighs and Tecchou pulls out and makes more mess out of your pretty cunt, breathing heavily. 

You don't dare to move just yet as you keep looking at him. He is slowly calming down as he comes closer to you and places a soft kiss on your nose.

"You are so lovely." he praises under his breath, placing another kiss on your cheek this time.

"And so amazing." he places a kiss on your other cheek.

"And so-"

"I will stop you right there." you cut him off with a whisper.

"I need something to...clean up." you look down and he seems to be dumb-founded. He looks down and widens his eyes for a second before turning around and looking for anything that could help and clean you up.

After a while he found some cloth to clean the mess he made and the two of you started cuddling as soon as he finished cleaning you.

"Feeling warmer now?" he was teasing which was both - usual and unusual for him.

"Mhm." you reply with a soft sound before moving more into his chest, enjoying his soft skin.

"Much warmer." you whisper out sleepily as he trails his fingertips over your cheek and places a lazy kiss on the top of your head.

"Are you sure…? Maybe we need to do it once more just to make sure." he has a little smile as he says this, making you roll your eyes at him.

"Just go to sleep already. I love you." you say in a soft tone and place a kiss in the middle of his chest as his smile gets bigger.

"I love you too." he replies and the two of you slowly drift off to sleep, feeling safe and warm.

#tecchou suehiro x reader #tecchou suehiro x reader smut #tecchou x reader smut #tecchou x reader #tecchou x yn #tecchou x yn smut #tecchou smut #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut

[brummiereader]

No Son Of Mine (One Shot)

Summary: Justice had finally been served in the wake of John's death. But with all acts of violence comes consequences, one Tommy must face when his trusted friend Johnny dogs stumbles upon the now orphaned baby of the traitor and his wife he and Arthur had both murdered in cold blood all in the name or revenge. With no child of their own and Graces refusal to send him to the orphanage, Tommy begrudgingly takes the child into his care. Will Tommy ever show young Oliver the love of a father he deserves? Or will he continue to see him as nothing but a burden the heavens had cruelly punished him with?

Warnings: Language, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, angst, fluff

Authors note: A lovely reader of mine popped into my messages and kindly asked me if I could write this story for them. I'm sorry for the long delay hun, I can only blame my procrastinating brain for my tardiness. Anyway, I hope i did your prompt justice. Enjoy!

"Right, we done?" Tommy said raising a brow as he wiped the blood that had splattered onto to his crisp white evening shirt looking to his brother Arthur nodding his head in response, his chest heaving up and down as he brushed his bloody hands through his hair, both having been sidetracked from the nights festivities.

" Fucking scum" Arthur sniffed wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he gave one last kick to the lifeless body at his feet. A cascade of events since John's death had led up to this very day, and Tommy and Arthur both simultaneously agreed without the need of words that justice had finally been served. Luca Changretta had been dead for almost a fortnight, the vendetta was over for all but the two surviving older brothers. That was until tonight when both Arthur and Tommy were unexpectedly called away to the news that Johnny dogs had found exactly who they'd been looking for. The traitor, the informer, the bastard that had given John's address to the Italians. A Peaky Blinder, one of their very own men.

" What about her?" Arthur spat a splutter of saliva laced with blood to the ground, the result of one lucky punch from the chancer that had tried his luck with the towering gangster. He'd put up a decent fight, one Arthur enjoyed watching before his patience grew thin and he pummeled his fist into him, each snap and break of his bloody face crumbling into something unrecognizable before being shot point-blank in the head. No one wanting or willing to hold him back. Not even Tommy. No forgiveness was given that dark night, only the sweet mercy met at the end of the barrel of a gun.

" Collateral" Tommy replied as he rubbed a cigarette across his lips not giving the nights events one ounce of remorse. This was for John after all.

" Collateral?" Arthur sniffed feeling a pang of guilt hit his stomach. Women and children were not to be harmed, an unspoken agreement before time in all dealings in war between men.

" Yes Arthur, fucking collateral alright?" Tommy snapped as he marched over to his brother whose eyes hadn't left those of the lifeless woman laid on the muddied ground below him " She ran into the line of fire brother. She all but killed herself" Tommy finished growing impatient with Arthur's weighing guilt. The last thing he needed was his number one soldier to be hit with a moral compass.

" Lads, we've got ourselves a wee problem" Johnny rushed over breathless as he loosened the neckerchief from the vein pumping angrily on the side of his neck. Fuck sake, Tommy thought to himself as he threw his cigarette to the ground. Things could never go smoothly, as smoothly as murder could go that was.

" What kinda problem?" Tommy replied as he and Arthur followed him into the small bedsit from the courtyard that two dead bodies had yet to be disposed of. The commotion resulting in the curiosity and twitching of the neighbours curtains, not one of them daring to or even contemplating in the slightest to inform any person of authority. Who would they go to? The police? The mere thought was laughable.

"Just a small one" Johnny replied taking two steps at a time up the rickety wooden stairs elaborating no further on what exactly had thrown a spanner into the works.

"A small problem Johnny eh? That's a big fucking problem!" Tommy ranted shaking his head as the three men entered the flat met with the sound of a newborn baby wailing in his woven bassinet, his bottom lip wobbling with each cry that furiously left his little lungs.

"Well he's small ain't he?" Johnny replied as he tilted his head looking down at the baby boy bundled in a white knitted blanket. You'd think with the the small army of children Johnny had fathered he'd be in his element. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Johnny was a natural with children, but a natural with children that had been weened, potty trained, and able enough to drive a four wheeled vehicle and shoe a horse. In basic terms, teenagers. But nonetheless wee babbies in his eyes. Newborns were all but a loud messy mystery to him.

" Jesus fucking Christ..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as his mind frantically tried to come up with a solution as to what in the hell he was going to do now.

" Bloody hell, bloody fucking hell!" Arthur bellowed as he kicked the chair beside him, the gravity of what they had just gone hitting him far more than any sin from the long list he had committed in the past. They had made a child an orphan, and Arthur's regret and new-found faith in the almighty was about to turn into a furious rage of self-inflicted guilt.

" Hey, hey!" Tommy said cupping Arthur's head in his hands in a vice grip, trying to snap him from the pit he was intent on falling in. " Johnny take the child and go start the car" Tommy said loosening his hands as Arthur's head cast down with shame at his sudden outburst. No reading of scriptures would ever be able to tame the raging fury from igniting within him at any given moment, no matter how hard he tried. " And Johnny, light a fire. Just as we did for John" Tommy finished reminding Arthur who this was for, who they were avenging.

" He won't quit!" Arthur panicked as he held the baby in the back seat of the car, fumbling with the hand stitched blanket as Tommy drove full speed down the country lane back to Arrow house were the night of meeting with dignitaries was surely over.

" He ain't a bloody chicken is he?" Johnny said as he reached over from the passengers seat taking the bundled up child into his arms. " Like this, look" Johnny added resting the baby's head on his shoulder as he silently prayed to every ancestor to take pity on him, promising them that the next child to be birthed with his last name he'd be the epitome of a modern father to.

" Shut him up Johnny!" Tommy shouted, his jaw clenched at the increased wailing in his ear, his nerves on edge by the constant reminder of the nights events he now had to deal with as he slammed his foot down on the pedal with Arrow house in sight.

"Grace!" Tommy's voice bellowed through the walls of the their house. Every guest had already left, the grand entrance cleared of tables of the most prestigious of all champagnes imported from France mere hours ago. A night of free food, free booze and music in return for them delving into their pockets. But with the host having been otherwise occupied for most of the evening it was a night wasted, one he would begrudgingly have to endure for a second time.

" Tommy..." Grace said as she hurried down the stairs pulling her ivory night gown around her as she watched Tommy pace back and forth with a cigarette hanging from his lips in the grand hallway.

" Here. You wanted a baby, now you have one" Tommy said as he took the child from Johnny's arms placing him into hers before storming off to his office and slamming the door shut, leaving his wife wide-eyed in confusion as Johnny and Arthur stood there sheepishly without a word.

" Frances, some warm cows milk and another blanket please. That will have to do until the morning" she said softly not wanting to startle the child anymore as she gently hushed his sobs away into small whimpers and sniffles. " One of you going to tell me what happened?"

It had been an hour, three whiskys, a packet of cigarettes and the rubbing of one's brow back and forth as a pounding headache settled onto his forehead since Tommy had shut himself away in his office, shutting himself away from the consequences of the night.

" Tommy?" Graces voice quietly announced as she entered the room with the newborn bundled in her arms soundly asleep as a flash of love at seeing his wife in her element softened her husband's face. Her motherly instincts that had been waiting to be freed finally being put to use after the longing for her own child.

" I've rung the orphanage" Tommy bluntly replied, the sweet moment that had captured him bitterly snatched away by no one else but himself as he stubbed out his cigarette. " They're coming first thing tomorrow to..."

" The orphanage. Tommy..." Grace interrupted him, her angered voice raising just above a whisper in response before being cut off herself.

" I won't hear anymore on it Grace. He can't stay here, that's the end of it" Tommy stood up throwing his lighter on a stack of paperwork as he rested his hands on the mahogany desk in front of him, looming over the list of numbers he had been calling as he huffed out a cloud of smoke.

" The end of it is it Thomas?" Grace scoffed as she walked forward, her eyes narrowing in on her husband with every step she took. " You made this child an orphan, he is your responsibility now. That's the end of it" she said coming to a stop in front of his desk as her husbands jaw tightened at her words.

" What about John's kids eh? They've been made orphans, hm? Grace? " He said as his wife turned her back on him as she headed for the door, Tommy's raised voice enough to startle a small whimper of cries from the baby boy now waking up from a deep slumber.

" When will it end Tommy?" Grace said as she came to a stop at the door. Tommy's relentless need for revenge against anyone who had dared to cross him leaving a string of orphans, elderly burying their own children and children burying their own parents. " A son Tommy, isn't that what you've wanted? What we've wanted?" she sighed, a deep wave of sorrow filling her heart as she looked down at the sweet child in her arms, a child she had yearned for during the unforgiving nights she had held onto her husband as tears streamed her face. Loss after loss breaking her already shattered heart.

" He'll be no son of mine"

Six years later...

" Elbows off Oliver" Grace reprimanded with a small smile of affection at the breakfast table to the child who had grown into a dimpled cheeked young boy as she rubbed her swollen stomach.

" Yes mummy" he replied kicking his legs back and forth as he wiped his cheeks from the egg soldiers he had just enjoyed as Tommy eyed him over the newspaper in his hand, reaching to caress his wife's stomach.

" He'll be here soon" Grace smiled to her husband lacing her fingers between his as she glanced over at her son that had no knowledge of who his birth parents were or the night that had brought him into their life, never wanting to or willing to send him into turmoil with the truth at such a young age "A baby brother for you Oliver " she winked to him as he grinned from ear to ear at the idea of having a sibling all whilst trying to stack the remaining pieces of toast into a strong hold that would keep the soldiers from the fiery dragon his imagination had conjured up. His attempts rendered futile when his tower of toast came crashing down onto the recently polished floors.

" Grace..." Tommy huffed folding his newspaper in half throwing it on the table in front of him, his patience easily tested with anything the small boy did that caused the slightest of inconvenience.

" Don't play with your food darling" she corrected him as Oliver's eyes darted to his father and the irritation clearly expressed in the creases of his furrowed brow. "Go clean up those buttery cheeks before I leave ok?" She smiled as the boy nodded in response while sliding off his seat only to stand on the scattered toast below him, causing a mountain of crumbs and further mess.

" You heard your mother" Tommy huffed lighting a cigarette as he looked down at the waste of food and the disorder that came with the child that had created it. " Oliver" Tommy pinched his brow as the little boy stood there doe eyed looking up at him nervously through his lashes.

" Go on" Grace smiled reassuring him as he ran to the door. " You're to harsh with him, he's scared of you" Grace said snapping her head to Tommy as he left the room.

" He doesn't listen" Tommy stated as he stood up taking a drag of his cigarette as he watched the boy through the crack of the door running up the stairs. " Stands there looking gormless whenever I tell him to do something, just like his traitor father"

" Tommy!" Grace said as she put the breakfast dishware down, crashing them onto the table in one loud clatter of knives, forks and spoons as she hurried to shut the door. " Don't ever let him hear you talk like that!"

" Well maybe he should know, eh Grace ?" Tommy said coldly stubbing his cigarette out, the pain from his brothers death never fully grieved, only ever making itself clear through the unfair coldness he showed to the child his wife had lovingly taken in all those years ago, raising him solely on her own over the watchful eye of him always standing from afar.

" You'd like that wouldn't you Tommy? Wouldn't have to keep up your facade anymore" Grace replied as she walked around the table. " Your his father, he knows no different. Just like this one" she said resting her hand on her stomach. " You're breaking his heart Tommy" she said taking his hand trying to reason with his stubbornness and the relentless friction he had undoubtedly created in the house the three of them shared. "I'm going to miss my train" she sighed as she closed her hand around his placing a tender kiss to his lips before turning to leave as Tommy followed behind her, watching from the door as she knelt down to Oliver in the entryway.

" Can't i come?" the young boy sobbed as she brushed his tears from his rosy cheeks. " Please?" he sniffed turning to see Tommy leaning against the door frame watching from afar, always from afar.

" I'm sorry darling, not this time" she replied a look of concern in her eyes about leaving him alone with Tommy, silently wishing this one time he would push his unenthusiastic demeanor aside and at least try if not for her then the little boy who thought the world of him. The same little boy with a determination that matched the very man who would brush off any attempts he made to impress him. Tommy's hate for the man that had fathered him clouding every parental instinct in his body. " I'll bring you something back" she winked giving him a hug before she fixed her hat and hesitantly turned to the door, leaving the young boy standing in the hallway sobbing as Tommy cruelly turned his back on his tears and shut the dinning room door behind him.

" Dad, Johnny, watch me!" Oliver shouted as he precariously placed one foot in front of the other climbing the large oak tree shading the evening sun on the grounds of Arrow house as Tommy and Johnny dogs watched on from the patio door. The young boy hell-bent on getting to the very top after seeing his uncle Arthur climb the very same tree two weeks earlier as he watched on in awe.

"That 'a boy!" Johnny shouted back pulling his cigarette from his mouth as he waved back. " Found 'em Tom" he turned to Tommy in a hushed voice as he leaned in. "They live up north in Yorkshire, factory workers in the local pressing center. Dirt poor, drunk ol' man that beats his wife within an inch of her life and too many mouths to feed" Johnny added as he watched Tommy's eyes following Oliver's every move.

" He's gonna fucking fall" Tommy huffed under his breath as he stood up straight, already on guard for the inevitable. He never fucking listens, why would he never listen to him?

" Tom, you listening ?" Johnny said as he pulled the address of Oliver's uncle from his pocket. " Grace will never forgive you Tom, he's her whole world" Johnny added as Tommy took the piece of crumpled paper from him, the decision to send Oliver to his family having been made after the unexpected news of Grace's pregnancy, a decision made solely by him without her knowledge. It's better she didn't know, better for him that was. And when the day did come, he'd tell her his family claimed him back. What grounds would she have to fight them? She'd be distracted with the birth of their son, she'd forget...wouldn't she?

"Dad look!" Oliver shouted trying to get his attention, determined to show him how far he could climb, how he was as fearless as any other Shelby before he misplaced his foot and came tumbling down to the ground.

"Oliver!" Tommy shouted throwing his cigarette into the grass as he and Johnny ran over in a panic. " What did I tell you eh?! What did I fucking tell you?!" Tommy shouted, all words of expected comfort and love absent from his voice as anger and frustration took over.

"I'm sorry..." he sobbed looking up to his dad as Tommy removed his cap from his head, running his hands through his hair as he looked down at the bloody cut on his hand, every ounce of his being telling him to cradle the boy in his arms that knew nothing but him as his father.

" Ay, up you get" Johnny said helping him as he gave him a pat to his back. " Just a scratch Oliver ay? No broken bones. Nout to worry on. Ain't that right Tommy?" Johnny said in attempts to reassure the sobbing boy and Tommy who was about ready to snap again, his jaw tightened at the sight of Oliver's cheeks streamed with tears, muddy and red from the blow of the fall.

"Get inside" Tommy said placing his cap back on as he started marching back to the house, ignoring the pit of fear in his stomach at how things could have taken a turn for the worse under his watch of the boy Grace had entrusted him with. " Boys don't cry Oliver. Soldier up and wipe those tears" Tommy harshly stated as he left him and Johnny by themselves as he made his way to his office, shutting himself once again away from any more responsibility, anymore damage his presence caused.

" Come on lad" Johnny said putting his arm around him as Oliver sniffed back his tears feeling foolish that he had not only fallen but cried In front of his father, the man that never cried.

Sitting back in his leather chair Tommy rubbed the weight of the guilt that had settled on his forehead with the tips of his fingers as the night drew in, the soft hue from the crackling fire the only source of light in the blackened room he had locked himself in for the remainder of the evening. The impending birth of his child had unexpectedly thrown Tommy's thoughts into an uncomfortable disarray. Out of sight out of mind had been Tommy's only solution to the feelings that had started to arise in him that fatherhood had threatened, that fatherhood had been threatening him with for six years. Oliver was more like him than Tommy dared to admit. The child's strong will and refusal to listen one of his own cruel making. Why couldn't he love him like he already loved his unborn child? How long could he keep this up? Would he be that man, unashamedly favoring one child in front of the other? With too many questions dominating his thoughts and his wife's gentle voice absent to soothe the demons he had created for himself, Tommy did what he only knew how to do. Drink himself to the bottom of a whisky bottle. Heading up to the second floor of Arrow house with the finest bottle of Irish whisky in his hand he stopped at the top of the stairs, small whimpers and cries coming from the room at the end of the hallway capturing his attention. Oliver's room.

" Frances!" Tommy called out as he waited for the the housekeeper to deal with what he knew he couldn't. "Fuck sake" he huffed under his breath after waiting in place for someone to come before he found himself walking down the hallway to Oliver's room. There, with his knees curled up to his chest Tommy watched though the crack of the door as Oliver rubbed his hand back and forth over the bandage wrapped tightly around his injured wrist, his small frame illuminated by the cast of the gentle moonlight shining through his bedroom window. Running his hand down his face Tommy opened the door as Oliver quickly turned around pulling the blankets up to his chin.

"Oliver?" Tommy questioned placing the bottle of whisky on the side cabinet as he walked over. " Why aren't you asleep?" Tommy said more bluntly than he intended to as he stood by the bed, feeling a wave of unease wash over him as he noted the small blanket Oliver was clutching onto. The very same blanket he was wrapped in the night they had found him. Grace had kept it, something he would have known if he had ever sat and read him a bedtime story, if he had ever woke in the night to hush the nightmares away from his worried mind, if he had ever even entered his room in all of the six years he had lived under his roof." Let me see" Tommy said in a gentler tone as he sat beside him on the bed. " Oliver let me see" he said when no response came from the whimpers the small child was trying to stifle. Boys don't cry. " Please?" Tommy sighed resting his hand on the child's back as his head fell into his other, the guilt of six year of taking the life of his parents settling on his shoulders pushing him further into his elbow digging into his leg as his head grew heavy with regret. Sniffling, Oliver turned around with his hand out as Tommy cradled it gently in his own, the difference in size causing Tommy's throat to go dry. The hate for his father's betrayal that of a grown mans doing, not this young boys that Tommy had cruelly burdened him with for six years " First of many battle wounds eh?" Tommy smiled to the young boy as Oliver's face stayed unchanged, unresponsive to Tommy trying to ease his worry. Had he done this? Made the child is his care so frightened of him he couldn't even a coax a smile from him?

" Soldiers don't cry" Oliver said pulling his hand away, his bottom lip turning down at the thought he wasn't as strong as his father, a soldier like him.

" They do Oliver" Tommy said as his brows knitted together at the thought that young Oliver had taken his words to heart. What else had Tommy said in the past six years, what else had he unknowingly taught him?

" You said boys..."

" And I shouldn't have " Tommy answered before he could finish as the boy wiped his tears from his youthful cheeks whilst a small silence filled the room, the strain from their relationship left empty with nothing further to say as Tommy desperately tried to search for the comforting words he knew Oliver needed to hear. " You want your mum don't you?" Tommy said swallowing harshly as he turned his head to the rays of moonlight cast on the wooden floor " I'm sorry Oliver, I'm..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as he clasped his hand around the child's shoulder. "... I'm not very good at this. You gotta help me out here. Will you help me?" he said as he gently squeezed his shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth as the barriers Tommy had kept up started to fall around him as he desperately scrambled to gain back the wasted years he had been adored, loved unconditionally, a love he had never once reciprocated . " Get some rest" Tommy sighed patting Oliver's shoulder, his plea for help left unanswered as he stood up when a small hand grabbed hold of him.

" Tell me a story, please?" Oliver asked as he sat up in his bed looking up to the man he had always looked up to, always waiting for an ounce of affection.

" That what your mum does eh?" Tommy replied as he sat back down, adjusting the covers lovingly around the boy, if not a little overly enthusiastically as Oliver was now in a tight cocoon of covers and blankets with his arms securely fastened by his sides. " A story..." Tommy mused aloud, his eyes looking up at the ceiling as his brain mulled over all the potential tales that could see him sleeping in the guest room for an undefined amount of time if Grace ever found out, when the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile you would think had never seen the light of day let alone witnessed by anyone but himself. Arthur had made him swear in blood to never mention the day his gangly legs had gotten in his way causing him to fall from would could have been the very same tree Oliver had fell from earlier that day in attempts impress a girl three decades ago. " Arthur made me swear never to tell anyone, but you won't tell him I told you, right? Tommy said as the boy nodded his head, understanding the severity of pinky swears and the fate of death if you ever spilled.

" Cross my heart" he nodded with all the seriousness he could muster as his little face twisted into a stern expression, a worthy match to Tommy's own infamous pout. He was a Shelby after all, Tommy thought to himself as his heart suddenly filled with pride.

" That's my boy" Tommy said as he turned to sit beside him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as Oliver nestled into his side " My son eh? Tommy nudged him into his body as the boys eyes beamed up at his father's loving gaze. "My son..."

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x son #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby one shot #cillian murphy

[atinylittlepain]

Apothecary - Chapter Seven

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

the town of Jackson comes together for a meeting, and truths are revealed.

wordcount: 4.8K

warnings | 18+ smut, significant angst, dramaaaaa

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

The irony isn’t lost on her. What now serves as the Jackson town hall had been a church in its previous life, high-arched windows, wooden pews, pulpit and all. Her mother would show her pictures from history books of Salem, their ancestors, she had told her, faces steeled in cool resignation amidst a contorted hysteria. She thinks of those images now, sitting in the first pew, Joel tucking her into his side, and dozens of eyes skittering up her neck. 

“Alright, let’s go ahead and start the meeting. I think we all know why I called everyone together. There’s been a lot of talk around town and it’s time to put rumors to rest and set the record straight.” Maria’s voice echoes through the hall from where she stands at the front of the room, Tommy right by her side, quieting the low thrum of the crowd. There’s not an empty seat to be had, people relegated to stand in the back, and she doesn’t dare glance over her shoulder out of fear of what she might find, glares and whispers, jaws set in predetermined condemnation. Joel however, can’t stop looking, his head whipping around every few moments before turning back to her with a grunt until she finally gives his knee a squeeze.

“You’re gonna throw your back out if you keep twisting your neck like that.” He sighs, resting his hand over hers.

“That’s gonna be the least of my worries if these people don’t stop fucking staring.” His words come out with a huff, and she offers him what she can of a smile, giving his thigh another squeeze. Though both of their attention is drawn back to the front of the room as the meeting really begins.

“We’d like for this to be an open forum to clear the air and discuss folks’ concern about what’s been going on, so if everyone’s amenable to that, we can open the floor to whoever would like to speak first.” It doesn’t surprise her that as soon as Maria steps to the side, Mason is getting up from his seat next to Matthew and Maura to stand in front of the crowd.

“I’d like to speak on behalf of the Nichols who are too grief-stricken at this moment to talk about such things. But they need and deserve justice for what happened to their baby, and I think it’s high time that witch right there gave us some answers.” She can feel Joel’s muscles tense under her hands, and she muses that if she wasn’t keeping a steady palm on him, he’d already be out of his seat and heading for Mason. Untangling herself from him, she gives Joel what she hopes is a reassuring nod as she stands up, squaring her shoulders as she faces Mason.

“I’m happy to give you answers. But I’m afraid it’s not going to be what you want to hear.” She turns to look at Maura, sitting across the aisle with tears welling in her eyes, Matthew set in a stony glare beside her. 

“Maura, I can’t express how sorry I am for what happened to your baby. And I need you to know that if there was anything I could have done to change things, I would have done it in a heartbeat. But I don’t think anyone could have changed what happened. It was just– it was too early, and I’m sorry.” For a moment, Maura’s features soften as she looks at her, a silent understanding that’s gone as soon as it comes when Matthew opens his mouth.

“Don’t listen to her, Maura. Remember what I told you? Nothing but lies coming out of her mouth.” 

“Why would I lie about something like this? Something as awful as this?” With that, Mason takes a few strides toward her, too close for comfort as his lip curls at her.

“Oh, you know why, little witch.” “Back off.” Too focused on Mason, she failed to notice Joel standing up, now stepping between them to glower at the man just as Maria steps forward as well, looking pointedly between the two men.

“Let’s keep things civil here, shall we?” Mason huffs, nostrils flared, though he does take a few steps back. And then she glances over her shoulder, though she wishes she hadn’t, quickly realizing that this has turned into a bona fide production for the people of Jackson to watch, necks craned to catch the action at the pulpit.

“I can tell you all exactly why she’d– she’d curse us like this. It’s because I wouldn’t give her what she wanted.” Matthew is up out of his seat, turned to, essentially, play to the crowd, his arms gesticulating broadly as he mouths off.

“She tried to put me under her spell. Tried to tempt me and seduce me like she did with all those other poor men, Miller included. But I am faithful, and I resisted her temptations. That’s why she cursed me, that’s why our baby is dead. And it’s why all those other men are dead too.” The crowd breaks into a thrumming murmur as Matthew finishes his speech, and her stomach sinks at the sound of their clear assent, heads nodding along to his words. This is about when the pitchforks come out, right?

“I have heard enough!” A hush falls over the crowd, Joel’s booming voice bouncing off the walls as he turns fully around to look at them.

“Do y’all really hear what this man is saying? This-this nonsense about someone who has helped every single one of you in this goddamn room?” She’s stunned still by his outburst, and everyone else seems to be too, eyes wide as Joel points to someone in the crowd.

“You told me she cured your son’s cough after he had it for years.” She recognizes the woman, who nods at Joel’s words, glancing over to her before responding.

“That’s true– she did. It was– well, it was a huge relief.” 

“She did the same for our little girl when she was sick last year. We thought her cough would never go away, but she helped her, helped us.” Another woman’s voice fills the room, heads turning to listen. 

“And how many of y’all have gone to her looking for help when your kids come home with poison ivy? I know I have.” There’s a wave of murmurs in the crowd, heads nodding at Joel’s words as he points to someone else.

“And you told me that she helped your wife through her entire pregnancy, ain’t that right?” The man nods, just as another woman speaks up.

“She helped me too, with both of my girls– honestly I don’t know how I would��ve done it without her.” 

“Us too, we’ve got her to thank for our boy.” She turns around at the sound of Tommy’s voice, seeing him and Maria both smiling at her where they stand.

Several other people come forward, sharing their own stories of how she had helped them in the past, and she can’t help the tears that start to gather in her lashes at this, a gratitude she has never experienced before. Joel takes her hand in his, glancing at her as people continue to speak, stories of rashes cured and colds stymied, wounds tended and care given. But Matthew isn’t done speaking just yet.

“Don’t listen to this man, he-he’s under her spell! He doesn’t know what he’s talking about!” 

“I’m not under some fucking spell. I know the woman I love, and I know that she wouldn’t harm anyone. And I also know she wouldn’t so much as look your way.” Joel’s words shock her, words she hasn’t heard from him before, but she doesn’t have much time to consider them before Mason is butting in with his own declaration.

“So she’s helped some people. That doesn’t take away from the fact that she’s a licentious slut who’s trying to drive men to adultery!” It’s a stunning slew of words, but before she or Joel can even react, a young woman is shooting up out of her seat and bursting out with a firm exclamation.

“She’s not an adulterer! He is! I’ve been having an affair with Matthew Nichols for months!” A collective gasp washes over the crowd, and she watches the color leave Matthew’s face. The woman waits for a lull in the commotion to continue speaking, eyes darting around the crowd.

“Don’t blame her for any of this. That man is a liar– I’m so sorry, Maura.” With that, the woman lets out a broken sob as she pushes through the crowd, hurrying toward the exit as Matthew calls out a rather meek “Lisa?” In the meantime, Maura has stood up, tears no longer falling as she stares at her husband, shock mingling with ire in her eyes.

“Maura, it’s not– it’s not what it–” Maura cuts off Matthew’s stammering with a palm held up between them, only offering him one word before she turns heel and storms out of the town hall.

“Don’t.” Matthew is quick to rush out on his wife’s heels, calling after her, leaving everyone thoroughly speechless, stunned silence hanging in the air as eyes dart around, searching for answers now that the floor has all but fallen out from under them. 

Joel lets go of her hand, stepping over to a very slack-jawed Mason, nose to nose as he glares at him.

“I suggest you go on home now, son, I think we’re done here.” He doesn’t have to be told twice.

…

By the time she makes it back to Joel’s house, the sun has already pulled hazy and low over the mountains, washing everything in orange fading into purple. 

“How’s she holding up?” She sighs at his question, plopping down next to him on the porch bench and all but melting into his side.

“I think she’ll be ok. She’s gonna stay with a friend of hers until the council works out a new place for her to live, but she seems pretty clear about her decision. Wants nothing to do with that man ever again.” After the town meeting that morning, she had sought Maura out immediately, inviting her to her shop, somewhere quiet for them to talk. And talk they did, for the better part of the day.

“And you and her are good?” 

“I think so, yeah.” There’s so much more she could say. How Maura kept telling her that she knew it wasn’t her fault. How awful she felt for how everything happened. And how they both couldn’t stop thinking about that little baby girl. But with the day she’s had, it’s nothing that can’t wait, leaving it at that for now as Joel pulls her a little closer under his arm. 

“You were something else today, Miller.” His grumble thrums under her palm splayed over his chest, shaking his head as he looks at her.

“I did what needed to be done. Those people needed some fucking sense talked into them. And for the record, I’m still thinking about paying Mason a visit and–” She cuts him off with a kiss, brushing his hair back before letting her palm come to rest along his scruff.

“He’s not worth it, Joel. I don’t think he’s gonna give us any more trouble either. Not after what happened today.” Though he doesn’t seem too satisfied by her response, the second kiss she presses to his lips seems to melt some of his resolve, the crease between his brows easing up as she pulls away to look at him.

“So, the woman you love, huh?” That distracts him, his jaw going a little slack as she grins at him.

“You– you caught that?” She’s quick to stifle her laugh when she sees the clear worry in his eyes, letting her palm fall back to his chest to rub reassuring circles there.

“Yeah, I caught that.”

“I didn’t, uh– I mean– I didn’t mean to–”

“It was kinda nice hearing the man I love talk about me like that.” His brows shoot up his forehead at that, and this time she can’t hold back her laugh at his shocked expression.

“I– you– you mean me, right?” 

“What do you think?” He pulls her into this kiss, swallowing her laugh and then silencing it with the way he licks into her mouth, her mind going hazy with him.

“Innocent eyes present! Please do not scar me for life, thank you very much.” They reluctantly pull away from each other, Joel grumbling as Ellie comes stomping up the porch steps, Stevie hot on her heels.

“I heard you guys did some serious ass-whooping today. Is it true what people are saying about the Nichols?” Joel huffs at her words, and at Stevie who has leapt into her lap between them, front paws digging into his thigh.

“Kid, no one did any ass-whooping, alright? And don’t look so pleased about what happened to the Nichols either, ain’t a laughing matter.” 

“He’s right, Ellie. Things are gonna be ok, but it was a hard day for everyone.” Ellie schools her face into something like solemnity, crossing her arms in front of her and nodding.

“Although… Joel did do some ass-whooping today.” At that, Ellie’s face breaks into a grin, pumping her fist in the air before holding her palm out to Joel for a high five, which he does not reciprocate, quirking his eyebrow at both of them with a shake of his head before getting up with a grumble that he’s going to get started on dinner, Stevie mewling in indignation at the sudden shift off of his legs and onto the bench next to her. With the soft click of the front door behind him, all it takes is Ellie glancing back her way for the both of them to let out a laugh.

It feels like a relief, like something settling back into place.

…

“So much for taking it slow, huh?” Joel glances at her in the bathroom mirror, wiping toothpaste off his mouth before resting his hip against the counter and fully looking at her.

“Think we’re way past slow now, darlin.” She had rather sheepishly asked him if it’d be ok for her to stay the night, not sure if she was still welcome now that everything had blown over. Joel had just looked at her like she was crazy for even asking, pulling her into a tight hug and murmuring something about her never having to leave if she didn’t want to. And she’s not sure if she ever will, not after that rock that came soaring through the front window of her house. She had already had a faint thread of an idea that maybe Maura could take her house after she moved in with Joel, since it seems like whatever this is, it’s going to stick around. He’s going to stick around, and so is she.

“Where’d you go?” His gentle question and his hand on her hip shakes her out of her head, blinking a few times to focus back on him standing in front of her.

“Hmm? Just thinking– it’s nothing important, not right now at least.” He hums at that, shuffling closer and taking her face in his hands, his eyes seemingly searching her expression. 

“You alright?” It’s so genuine, the worry just barely creasing his brow as he looks at her that she’d probably melt under his gaze if not for his hands holding her steady. The sigh that she lets out is one she’s been holding in for a while.

“I think so, yeah. I– what you did today– for me. No one’s ever done something like that— stood up for me like that. And I guess I’m just trying to say thank you, for sticking your neck out for me.” He seems to consider her words for a moment, lips parted and eyes turned down as he strokes his thumb over her cheek. 

“I’d do it again in an instant, darlin. Meant what I said too. I love you. Fuck, I really love you.” With all the other ones, she had heard them tell her that they wanted her, needed her even. But Joel is the first to say these words to her, and she doesn’t think she’d like to hear them from anyone else, ever. She nearly laughs when the thought crosses her mind that, really, she’s under his spell. 

“I love you, Joel. I do, I love you.” Yes, it has to be magic, the way his eyes crinkle up, a smile he wouldn’t give to anyone else, the strength of his palms still so soft along her jaw as he guides her lips to his. And they get to have this, all of this, for as long as they both want it. She hopes for a long time, if not forever. 

It’s a messy affair, lips only parting for quick gasps of breath, eyes barely glancing away as they make a stumbling path for his bed. She can’t help the laugh that bubbles up, breaking their kiss when they fall in a graceless tangle onto the mattress, a quick twist of limbs that has her straddling his hips, palms splayed out on his chest as she looks down at him. For a moment, all she wants is to look at him looking at her, the little tilt of his head, amusement rounding his cheeks as his fingers squeeze and flex where they’re curled around her hips.

“Staring ain’t very polite, darlin.” 

“Neither is being a smartass, baby.” The laugh he lets out is more of a disbelieving huff and she’s quick to swallow it, dipping down and bringing them back together in a kiss that stings sweet, teeth scraping skin as her fingers skitter down the buttons of his shirt. Her mouth follows her hands, meeting every new inch of exposed skin with a drag of kisses, and when he sits up just enough to shrug out of the sleeves of his shirt, she can’t help but nip at the soft swell of his stomach, eliciting a grumble from him.

“What’s that about, huh?” She grins against his skin, palm splaying in the middle of his chest to push him back flat on the mattress, nosing at the trail of hair just below his navel.

“I happen to really like this part of you, that’s all.” The quirk of his brows at her words makes her laugh, simply leaving another smattering of kisses over his belly in response as she works open his belt. 

She learned early on that Joel’s something of a giver, always wanting to be the one in control, the one who decides what and when and how, and it only makes it more satisfying when she gets him like she has him now, giving it all up to her. A quiet “hips up, baby” is all it takes to get his jeans shimmying down his legs, tugging them off before settling back between his legs, her palms resting on the tops of his thighs. 

“You look perturbed.”

“You’ve still got a lot of clothes on, darlin.” He says it with a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth, sitting up on his elbows to look at her as she peels her shirt off over her head. But that’s all she’ll give him for now.

“Lay back down, Miller, I wasn’t done with you.” His grumble dies in his throat when she slips her fingers under the waistband of his boxers, nails grazing the soft skin there. That gets him on his back real fast. She supposes she’s teased him enough, tugging his boxers off with little fanfare, his cock resting flushed and hard against his stomach. 

She knows what he likes. He likes her eyes on him when she lets her tongue drag along the underside of his length, and he likes it a touch messy, spit pooling in the corners of her lips when she takes him into her mouth. He likes when her nails graze over his belly, holding him still as she works him over, taking him into her mouth as far as she can before pulling back to lap at his swollen tip. She likes all the little sounds she can coax out of him, harsh breaths turning into clipped grunts that eventually give way to moans thrumming low in his chest as she continues her ministrations. 

“I– Jesus– that mouth of yours– gotta– gotta stop, honey. I can’t– I want you. Want you now.” With that, he sits up, fingers tucked under her chin to coax her up for a devouring kiss before his hands fall to the button of her pants. His mouth doesn’t stray far from her skin, grazing over the tops of her breasts as he works her out of her remaining clothes, a close shuffle that leaves her just as bare as he is, coaxing her thighs to frame his hips. He holds her steady, hands an insistent bruise on her hips as her cunt drags over his length, a heady pull that has her nails digging into his chest. 

“Shit, darlin– you ready for me? Wanna take it like this?” It always makes her brain stutter to a stop, the absolute mouth he has on him, usually such a gentleman, so quiet, suddenly turned sharp and demanding. It’s obvious to her that he doesn’t realize what kind of effect his words have, only earnest anticipation in his eyes as he looks up at her, and it only makes the heat grazing up her spine raise another pitch. He’s all soft murmured encouragement, palms a steady sweep up her thighs, the curve of her ass, fingers firming up on her hips as she guides his cock to her entrance.

Relax for me, darlin, that’s it.

Fuck, that’s good. You’re so good like this. 

Move for me, honey. Just like that, so fucking perfect.

It’s a brilliant mingling of sighs, clipped moans with every pass of her hips, Joel bending his knees and planting his feet into the mattress to meet each bounce with his own thrust. His eyes are a hot drag on her skin, the pull of his gaze trailing every curve before sweeping back up to her face. She’s trailing along the edge of too much, so full of him that each tilt of her hips has her gasping with the way his cock is spreading her open, grazing so deep every time she sinks back down. But when he brings one hand to rest at the crux of her thigh, fingers smearing a sloppy rhythm into her clit, too much washes over her like a wave, spine curling in an arc of pleasure until her chest is pressed close against his, face buried in the juncture of his neck as she mouths a quiet cry into his skin. His hands draw a slow circuit up her spine, keeping her full, but not moving as she crashes down around him.

“I’ve got you, easy, easy, I’ve got you, darlin.” A kiss to her temple coaxes her face out from his neck, hazy smiles shared between barely brushing lips. 

They move like liquid. He stays, warm and throbbing inside her, as he turns them over, his hips slotting between her thighs, forearms framing her face. There’s no use for words. She gives him a nod and a kiss to the corner of his mouth, enough communication for him to slip back into movement, hips a steady and strong roll into hers. He’s beautiful like this, a pink flush creeping up his chest into his cheeks, his brow pulled down in pleasure, eyes a continuous wave from her face down to where she’s taking all of him over and over again. And it’s her turn to coax, to murmur, to press and press and press until he cracks.

Feel so full, baby. Always fill me up so perfect.

So good like this, Joel. Doing so good for me.

I want it, baby. Want it so bad. Let go for me, please.

He comes with a crackled groan, her name leaving his lips on a punched out exhale as he curls over her, spend smearing warm over her stomach. She props herself up on an elbow, her hand on his jaw drawing him down for a kiss shared between harsh breaths. 

“Was that– was that good for you?”

“You’re always good for me, Joel.”

…

Her overalls are back, hanging off the corner of his bathroom door. There’s a stack of her books on his nightstand, thick tomes full of latin names he won’t even attempt to pronounce. And her plants are back too, she and Ellie hauling them over one afternoon, shuffling back and forth between her old house and theirs. A few pieces of her furniture made the move as well. A dark blue armchair that now sits in the living room, what has become Stevie’s designated lounging area. A cabinet that had been a bitch for them to move, huffing and puffing across town, Joel nearly throwing his back out with the effort, though his reward that night had been worth it. And a high-backed bureau now sits in the corner of his bedroom, a spot he finds her sitting at most mornings before they both head out for work, writing meticulous notes about the people she cares for. 

“Gonna see you over lunch today?” He can feel the curl of her smile where his lips rest against her cheek, and she turns around on her stool to steal a proper kiss from him.

“Mmhmm, I’ll be there. I’m guessing I’m gonna have to share with you again, huh?” 

“Well, if you’re offering I ain’t gonna turn you down.” He didn’t get to have her laugh for a while there, and now whenever she does give it to him, it’s like he tries to gather it up in his mind, every crackling smile, every tilt of her head, every peel of relief committed to memory. 

“Fine, but I’m not leaving tomatoes off this time. You’ll just have to eat around them.” 

“I guess I can live with that.” Another smacking kiss before he pulls away to let her stand up.

“You gonna walk me out, Miller?”  

“That’s the least I can do, darlin.” 

No more whispers, no more stares, they move through town easily now, first walking Ellie to school, who tells her and Stevie that she’ll be around the shop this afternoon before offering Joel a clipped “later, old man.” But he doesn’t even have time to be annoyed by it, not when his woman is taking his hand and tugging him along toward her shop.

She still moves a bit tentatively, glancing over her shoulder at him as she unlocks the front door before stepping inside, her shoulders a slight hunch as she moves through the shop. He’s been keeping her company in the mornings before his own shifts, staying out of her way but close enough that he hopes it eases some of her worry. 

“Ellie’s already asking me about Halloween, you know.” His brows raise at her words, watching her rest her elbows on the butcher block across from him.

“Is it– is it an important day for your, uh, your people?” Though he can see the amusement in her eyes at his stumbled-out question, she spares him any teasing, lazily stirring her tea before letting the spoon rest in the mug.

“Mmhmm, though we call it Samhain, not Halloween. I’ll tell you more about it when it gets a little closer.” They’ve figured out a gradual give and take, when to ask and when to answer, when to let things rest and when to reveal a bit more, and Joel can tell she’s making such a calculation in her head right now, offering him an easy smile. But his attention is drawn down to her mug, spoon now languidly stirring all by itself, though she’s quick to catch it, bringing her palm over the rim of the cup, her smile turning sheepish as his eyes widen at her.

“That– how– how am I just seeing that now?” That makes her laugh.

“I may have been trying to hide that particular, uh, quirk. Didn’t want to freak you out too much.” 

“Darlin, at this point, I don’t think you could freak me out if you tried.” 

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

taglist: @boofy1998 @misspascaliverse @jasminedragoon @beskarandblasters @daddy-din @subconsciouscollapse @avidreader73 @pedgeitopascal @littlelou22 @wannab-urs @hannahlupinblack @whoiscaroline @leeeesahhh @str84pedro @mumma-moonchild @disregardedplant @mxtokko @igloo71 @secretdazeobservation @eddie-munson-dungeon-master @cressida-clearwood @mydailyhyperfixations @mingeniee @the-ginger-hedge-witch @delicious-collection @gab-thelamb-onthemoon @thereaperisabitch @lunxramour @jupiter-sky @parrotpeggy @abbiesxox @nerdreader @ssa-raye @vermillionwinter @jksprincess10 @jordycat-2018 @lavenderkee @hungryforbatboys

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

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

ATLA

Divergence of Destiny by Fernandidilly_yo

This is his life now, here on this ship, serving tea with Uncle and the crew. Traveling the world and staying far, far away from the ongoing war.

The Jasmine Dragon is Zuko's home.

Meeting the Avatar does not change that.

It changes absolutely nothing.

(Until, inevitably, it does.)

Tea and Cakes by ghosteyes

Zuko is having trouble pretending he doesn't has a problem with food and through a series of field trips with friends, the gaang starts to pick up on that as well.

Wishful Thinking by mindbending

Right after Boiling Rock, Zuko found Sokka sprawled in his tent with a bouquet of red roses, and a ring of romantic candles, and one final rose set between his teeth. With the littlest twinge of envy, Zuko realized the entire display was for Suki.

The point is Sokka's flirting is about as subtle as a buffalo yak. To miss it, you’d have to be a complete and utter airhead.

Stranger Things

Down in a Dead Man's Town by holyfudgemonkeys (erraticallyinspired)

When Steve nearly runs over Will Byers on that fateful night in 1983, he doesn’t expect offering him a ride home would result in both of them being hunted into another dimension. Surviving there is hard. Adapting to normal life again is even harder. His old self settles like an ill-fitting suit, and there’s no room for nightmares and fear and his new bond with Will in it. As he struggles to find a new normal he can live with, Steve finds himself befriending a bunch of kids and maybe (definitely) falling in love with a local weed dealer.

BNHA

Overcome by redrobin1989

When Izuku accepted All Might's quirk, he never expected to feel this helpless again. Sitting in on the interrogation of a serial killer, he realizes that the past can't always be left behind. Sometimes it comes back and brings with it a body count.

One can either overcome the problem or yourself be overcome.

DC (Batfamily)

Conference Room 2B by motleyfam

And okay, fine, Tim can admit it: his parents paying off a school official to circumvent social services just to see him was sketchy at best—probably illegal at worst. They really shouldn’t have done it. Bruce and Alfred would be furious to find out that they had. Not to mention Jason, who would go absolutely apeshit.

But–

But it was also just really fucking sweet of them.

Tim hasn’t felt this loved, this cherished, this fought for and desired by his parents in years.

Doesn’t he at least owe it to them to hear them out?

(Three months into Tim’s foster placement with the Waynes, Jack and Janet Drake decide they want back into their son’s life.)

Another Mirror by byrambles

It’s over remarkably quickly. The winning Batman leaves the losing Batman on the floor, still and broken, and Superman moves quickly to tie that one up as Winning Batman turns away. Turns toward Damian.

His shoulders slump, and Damian feels numb. This is not his Batman.

Anton Syndrome by Anonymous

Tim's parents have been away for six months and counting—the longest he's ever been left alone at one time—and it's starting to have some unpleasant side effects. Luckily, he has a solution.

OR, the one where Tim attempts prostitution to cure his touch starvation. His plan goes wrong pretty much from step one, but it all works out for the better.

DC/Danny Phantom

I Just Wanna Talk by foldingfacets

John Constantine beat the system of life and death until it fully refused to touch him anymore, and when it did, it never went well. It was a fact that the League had come to terms with, or those that knew, anyways. None of Constantine’s past could explain the kid in fuzzy pajamas that was curled up on a chair in the Justice League’s control room asking for the elusive brit.

Danny had barely made it to high school graduation only to be thrust into dealing with the millennia of bullshit waiting ever so patiently for the King of the Infinite Realms to look at. The fact that there was a weird amount of paperwork filed regarding some dude named John Constantine that looked like the weirdest form of tax fraud he’d ever seen was puzzling, and his parents committed that regularly. He has no idea what the hell he’s looking at.

Alternately: Danny is the inter-dimensional personification of the IRS for Death and the Unliving, and he just has a couple questions.

#happy weekend everyone #weekly fic round up #my posts #fic recs #stranger things recs #dc recs #bnha recs #atla recs

[pixiecactus]

i know that i sound like i'm repeating myself, but i swear it still fucks with my mind the fact, that grrm could have gotten rid of gendry from the narrative, pretty much after arya gets kidnapped, yeah, sure gendry joins the bwb, and the brotherhood has a bigger role to play in the books, but we know of past members who have left after beric finally died and lady stoneheart assumed the group leadership (ex. edric dayne, anguy), the vow that gendry made as a knight was to beric and the smallfolk, the bwb is not longer a group who administers fair justice, now they are blindly killing for revenge after the rw, they have become an unofficial branch of stark men placed in the riverlands.

people tend to assume that gendry is not smart, (i mean he's pretty much the person arya has called stupid the most), and yeah, his level of formal education is something that can be debated. he was formely an armorer's apprentice, (that means to me that the boy should know his letters and numbers a little), but the thing, he's streetsmart, we have seen him acting as arya's voice of reason more than once in dire situations, is not out of the realm of posibilities to think he could have escaped anytime he wanted, and it's not like gendry can't make a living anywhere else in westeros (except for king's landing), and the people who knew robert baratheon on his prime and can see the resemblance between them are dropping like flies

instead, we have him in the last location arya was known to be at, taking care of orphans like the girl from his memories wanted him to do, not so long ago. i don't know if gendry in his guilt ridden state thinks he has to atone for something he did (does he genuinely believe that arya escaping and getting caught by the hound is his fault?) or is he trying his best to honour the memories of the first friend he ever made

to end this: arya and gendry still match with eachother, both are child soldiers currently serving their own cults obsessed with death

#my bull-headed boy is so dear to me #i'm having all of these feelings over a tertiary character #if gendry is not meant to be at least somehow a little important in the future why did grrm gave him a character arc #it makes me want to scream #if i had nickel for every bastard boy who is loyal to a fault to arya stark i'd have two nickels #which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #house stark #arya stark #gendry #gendrya #arya x gendry #gendry x arya #the brotherhood without banners #bwb

[teecupangel]

Dc x Ac Crossover idea

Desmond survived the solar flare and thru events become bruce Waynes sugarbaby

Feel free to ignore just thought it might be an interesting concept

To make this easier for us, we’ll have Desmond transported into the DC world after the Solar Flare. This way, we don’t have to make an excuse why the other DC superheroes couldn’t do something about the Solar Flare or how they learned about it too late.

Or… you know… we can have Desmond meet Batman because the Justice League was able to stop the Solar Flare and that leads to Batman learning about the Grand Temple and meeting Desmond.

Anyway, regardless of how it’s done, the main setup would be that Desmond would set up shop in Gotham because it’s more of his alley. The rogue gallery there is something he can manage and Gotham is under Batman’s purview so he doesn’t normally have to deal with the other DC characters… normally.

In this situation, Desmond would not know anything about Batman or DC as his world doesn’t have DC comics. So when he meets Bruce Wayne in a gala or something where he’s working as the bartender, he just thought of him as a charming rich dude.

A charming rich dude that he sucked off during his break.

But that’s about it.

Then, a few weeks later, Bruce Wayne comes into his bar and they talk…

He serves him drinks and one of his “we have no menu you eat what I want to cook for the day” meal…

They fucked in the small apartment he has above the bar…

Bruce Wayne leaves and Desmond thought that would be the end of it.

He wasn’t expecting anything from Bruce.

And he’s trying to keep a low profile as he build up his information network so he can plan how to to be an Assassin in Gotham without making a mistake that will shatter the order holding Gotham if he was to start building his Brotherhood.

Then…

Bruce Wayne visited his bar once again (always while it was closed) and…

Things spiral from there.

At first, Desmond assumed they were fuck buddies which he didn’t mind.

Then…

Bruce started giving him expensive gifts and Desmond can’t say no, not when his Bleed of Ezio has given him a taste of how nice it was to have expensive good quality things…

And then…

Bruce started taking him to places… high quality hotels… restaurants that need reservation for months just to get in…

Vacation spots that needs them having to use Bruce’s private jet…

It was only when he finally met one of Bruce’s sons, Damien Wayne, who calls him ‘father’s paramour’ that he realized…

Holy shit.

He was Bruce Wayne’s sugar baby.

.

.

On the other side of this story is Bruce who had been surprised (and enjoyed) by the blowjob and had only done a cursory check of Desmond’s identity because… well… he has a history for romancing people who would stab him in the back later on and…

… came up blank.

Desmond has an identity, sure, but it was fake.

Before that…

There was nothing.

So he went to the bar to investigate further and…

They fucked in Desmond’s place above the bar.

After that…

Bruce started to visit to keep an eye on him.

He started to feel bad because he was having sex with someone who doesn’t know he was trying to figure out their real identity (especially when Desmond seems so earnest about how he appreciates Bruce’s visits) so he started… giving him gifts as a way of apologizing without really apologizing.

Then he started taking Desmond out, starting with Gotham to check if Desmond is okay being seen with him then…

He started bringing Desmond to other places, trying to check if anyone would recognize him some way or another.

And feel bad because he is making Desmond bait for whatever past he was trying to hide.

Until Damien called Desmond ‘father’s paramour’ and Bruce realized…

He was too deep in this that he cannot tell Desmond the truth in fear of Desmond leaving him and no longer even caring what past Desmond is hiding.

… oh.

He was in love.

… well, fuck.

#it would be funny #if the dc world turns out to be #a world where desmond let the world burn #and from the ashes #they rebuild history and such #so the league of assassins are actually the organization juno and minerva warned him about #and maybe they recognize desmond as the father of understanding #lollol #anyway #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #bruce wayne #batman #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #fic idea: batman #fic idea: crossover

[andyling]

WAIT FUCK GUYS I JUST HAD A GREAT IDEA FOR A COMIC SERIES THAT WILL APPEAL TO ME AND MAYBE SOME OTHER PEOPLE BUT LIKE DEFINITELY TO ME IF DONE CORRECTLY

So like, y’know how Tim and Damien are kinda having a custody battle for the Robin title right now because DC never really managed to successfully give Tim his own identity? Well maybe we can have a series focused on exactly that, Tim finding a new hero identity. 

BUT THAT’S NOT ALL FOLKS, BECAUSE DO YOU KNOW WHO ELSE NEEDS A NEW HERO IDENTITY?

KON EL FUCKING KENT

Do I ship Tim and Kon? Yes. Do I understand that Tim is in a relationship with Bernard right now? Yes. Do I know that DC would never let the poly relationship happen? Yes. 

But guess what, I don’t give a fuck. I’m desperate here. These two don’t need to smooch I just need them to talk to each other and be best friends and go on adventures and figure their shit out. I MISS THEM. THEIR RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC, EXCLUDING ANY ROMANCE, IS AMAZING AND I NEED MORE OF IT. 

Think about it, Kon and Tim know that Jon and Damien are going to take the mantles of “Superboy” and “Robin” and they have to learn to move on. They struggle to let go, they doubt whether they truly can make a name for themselves. So, they decide to leave Metropolis and Gotham. They separate themselves from the people that have defined their entire heroic lives. But both of them are afraid of being alone, so they go together. One last journey as Robin and Superboy. 

They travel the world together. They meet some familiar faces. 

Maybe they go visit Greta and Cissie and we get to see how their civilian lives are going. Perhaps the girls suggest that maybe the two need to let the hero life go. Maybe Tim and Kon even consider it, but they realize that being a hero is what they want to do. (AND THEY DON’T FIGURE IT OUT WHILE IN A FIGHT OR SOMETHING, NO THEY JUST FUCKING TALK. THEY BEAT SOME SHITHEAD UP AND THEN THEY TALK. WHY DID THEY BECOME HEROS? WHY DO THEY WANT TO KEEP BEING HEROS? GIVE THEM SOME FUCKING DEPTH DC I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD) 

Maybe they run into Anita. She’s found out that Slobo is alive and the three of them go to save him. (AND HE FINALLY GETS FUCKING RESCUED AFTER GETTING TRAPPED AS A CONCIOUS STATUE FOR SO FUCKING LONG FOR NO GODDAMN REASON I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THAT WAS PUT IN THE FINALE FOR THE ORIGINAL YOUNG JUSTICE SERIES THAT LAST HALF OF THAT RUN SUCKED ASS AND EVEN IF YOU DON’T AGREE WITH ME ABOUT THAT WE SHOULD ALL AGREE THAT SLOBO DESERVED BETTER). There is a reunion and it’s sweet and happy and just a nice moment. 

Shenanigans ensure, blah blah blah. They meet more familiar faces, some friendlier than others. They meet new people that help them along their journey. They now fully understand what makes them different from other heros and how they want to put those skills to use. They know what kind of heros they want to be and are ready to pave a new path for themselves.

And at the end of it the two choose new names for themselves that are hopefully not stupid and are very cool and suits them. The two have a touching moment where they say just how much the other means to them. Then they hug, maybe kiss (sorry i’m delusional), and then go their separate ways. 

Tim returns to Gotham, returns to his family, and we get a nice little reunion between the bat family. He officially resigns as Robin and the first time his new hero identity is put into action is in Gotham with the rest of his family because no matter what, he’s still a bat. Tim, as a hero, does his thing and stops crime and keeps the city safe. However he also focuses his attention on the political and corporate corruption happening in not just Gotham city, but all around the world. He even uses his influence as Tim Drake-Wayne if it can help. Most people won’t know he’s the one digging up evidence and ensuring justice is served, but that’s okay. So long as people’s lives can be changed for the better, he’ll be happy. 

Kon returns to Metropolis and talks to Clark. They have a heart to heart conversation and Kon official gives up the title of Superboy. He then goes to Jon and Kon officially gives his mantle to him. Kon was the first Superboy and Jon will be a more than worthy successor. Unlike Tim, Kon doesn’t stay in his home city. He bounces around from place to place aiding whoever is need of his assistance, whether that be working with another hero to stop a villain or helping a small community recover from a devastating natural disaster. He may not have a home city like other heros, but he still has a home. That home is simply spread out all over the world. After all for Kon, home is wherever his friends are. 

We fast forward a few months. Tim and Kon meet up at the old Young Justice base. They joke about how much they hated each other when they first met, which leads into a serious conversation about much has changed. Despite everything, they both agree that they’ve changed for the better and will continue to keep improving themselves and their lives. And yet, even after all of that . . .

“Kon, we may have given up our old names, but we’re still a part of those legacies. No matter what the future has in store, there are some things that will never change. You’re my Superboy. Always will be.”

“And you’ll always be my Robin.” 

And the comic ends. 

#i blacked out for a second there- hey where did this essay come from? #did ya see that reference to a quote from the comics at the end there #i can't be a delusional shipper if its based on canon #i mean i still am delusional #and a timkon shipper #but like that ending quote is a reference to dc canon #i would make this a full fledged fanfic if i was productive enough #i don't trust dc comics with my boys but like i'll still hope #tim drake #kon el kent #conner kent #dc comics #young justice #yj 1998 #timkon #robin #superboy