#and they don’t use the soap branding for em

[wttcsms]

you wouldn't be the first renegade to need somebody, atsumu miya

pairing atsumu miya x reader word count 1.4k synopsis love for you is holding him; love for him is allowing himself to be held. content contains hurt/comfort, intimacy, atsumu-centric, insecurities, unconditional love, showering together but make it sfw

The stinging spray of scalding hot water from the showerhead should be enough to get him to leave, but he barely registers the pain, can’t seem to bring himself to feel the heat, can’t seem to bring himself to feel anything.

No — that’s not entirely true. He feels one thing.

Devastated. 

Everyone knows Atsumu Miya likes to talk shit on and off the court. It’s his thing, his trademark, his brand. Lots of athletes like to talk big about how they’re going to win; who the hell is going to support a guy who walks onto the court with a well, it’ll be alright if I lose. 

He’s staring down at the tiles of the shower, can somewhat register the persistent barrage of water spraying onto his back as he has one hand splayed on the wall, shoulders slumped, water dripping from his hair and running into his vision, making everything blurry. 

Don’t blink, he tries to demand of himself, but the issue is, we can’t always control our bodies. He has to shut his eyes, just for a brief second, and in that second, it all comes back to him.

The opposing team at set point. His team depending on him to serve. One point left. Only one chance. He can feel the stadium’s crowd holding their breath, can feel the lack of air in the atmosphere, can hear how loudly the blood is rushing to his head. Dizzy. Dazed. He doesn’t give into pressure, not anymore, not ever. Doesn’t feel performance anxiety, knows better than to try to attempt something flashy just for the glory of a good story to tell. 

Give ‘em a serve they don’t have a chance of receiving, he demands of himself. 

The final seconds of the match all come to him like stills from a movie, each frame another devastating blow to his ego, his self-worth, his very being. The ball is in the air, he’s bending his knees to prepare for the jump, his hand making contact with the ball. Something’s off, he can feel it upon first contact, but it’s too late to save, too late for him to change anything.

The ball lands.

On his side of the net.

He’s frozen in place as he stares ahead. He can tell the other team is cheering, slapping each other on their backs, and he can hear the blow of a whistle, the celebration from the crowd. But all he sees is the ball. All he sees is his failure.

Atsumu has spent a good portion of his volleyball career knowing that he plays the game better than most. It’s why he feels so comfortable talking about the lack of skills other players display. It’s why he always has something to say at practice, on the court, during a post-game interview. 

And he knows he makes mistakes. He knows that he’s only human. But a bad serve in the middle of a game isn’t as crushing as knowing that he is the sole reason as to why the Black Jackals’ season is going to be ending early. 

Where did he go wrong? He did everything perfectly, did everything the way he usually does. Why couldn’t he perform? Why did he let his team down? Why—

“Atsumu?” 

He doesn’t look up, and all you can see is the sad shape of his outline from the foggy glass door of the shower. You know that Atsumu probably wants nothing more than to be alone right now, but you can’t help but worry when fifteen minutes have gone by, and you could still hear the shower running. That’s your first sign that something is wrong.

Atsumu is a notoriously quick showerer, to an almost concerning degree. When you first started living together, you debated planning elaborate tricks to see whether or not he was even using soap. (Which, in hindsight, was just flatout silly; he walks out the shower smelling overwhelming of his Axe Men’s 3-in-1 and Old Spice deodorant.) 

No — the first sign that something is wrong would be his uncharacteristic silence on the trip back home. He hadn’t responded to your it’s okay, baby, you’ll get ‘em next season. Instead, he just looked out the window, the devastated expression on his face silencing you as well. Even when he lost to Kageyama, he had been disappointed, upset, but still talking big about how he was going to crush the Adlers next time around. He had then made a comment about Tobio’s stupid haircut, and that’s when you told him if he doesn’t have anything nice to say, he shouldn’t say anything at all.

Now, you’d give anything to have him say something. Something for you to work with.  

“Atsumu?” You call out for him again, worried when you don’t see his figure moving. 

Pathetic. Atsumu thinks that’s what he is. A loser, a fucking scrub, a failure. Even if his teammates won’t admit it, the media will. And what then? Will you think that about him too? It’d be the truth, wouldn’t it? Isn’t that why you’re in the bathroom now? To pity him? 

He’s too busy tearing himself down to react to the distinct sound of you sliding back the glass door of the shower so you can enter it. There’s a brief burst of the cool air of the bathroom hitting his exposed body, but it evaporates the moment you shut the door. 

“Oh, ‘Tsumu.” You whisper it, and he wants to tell you that he’s not fucking fragile. That he’s not going to shatter into a million pieces if you just raise your voice, if you tell him how you really feel about him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t turn around to face you. He doesn’t want to. He can’t.

His skin is red from the heat of the water, his back staring at you angrily, hurt. The skin’s going to need some time to heal, and you turn the faucet, lowering the temperature of the water. 

“Turn around, honey. Please?” You’ve never seen Atsumu so upset before, so quiet. You wait several minutes for him to actually do as you request, and you think it’s only because he wants a way to get rid of you sooner. 

You don’t say anything to him as you reach for his shampoo, letting it lather in your hands before you give him a pleading look, one that has him leaning down so you can reach his hair. It feels nice, he thinks, the way you’re shampooing his hair. You’re gentle with your movements, and it almost relaxes him. 

You use your body wash on him. Massage the suds into his skin, but you’re mindful of the amount of pressure you apply. You know which areas of his skin is more sensitive from its exposure to the hot water, and you are careful with the spots of his body that he had chosen to be negligent with. 

“Am I so fuckin’ worthless that you have to do somethin’ as simple as bathing me?” He’s not angry at you. He might spit out the words — words that come out sounding all raw and scratchy, like they had to personally claw themselves from his throat — but the anger is not directed at you. It’s at himself. 

“Look at me.” 

His eyes are glossy, wet, shiny, and you know it’s not because of the shower. You’ve never seen Atsumu cry before, and you’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. So, you do what feels right. You whisper his name softly, tenderly, and it’s this tenderness, your unwavering softness, your unconditional love, that breaks him. That makes him feel safe enough to break. That makes him think of the possibility that you’ll take these jagged pieces of him and piece them back together for him, with him. 

He’s so much bigger than you. You tell him all the time that he’s larger than life, and he thinks about that comment as he lets himself sink into your open arms, as he lets himself be held. He has never felt smaller in his life, and in your embrace, he buries his face into your shoulder, letting his warm tears mix in with the water already on your body.

“I don’t know how you can still look at me.” He mutters, and every word is spoken onto your skin, tiny blades striking you. 

Atsumu isn’t sure what he wants to hear, isn’t even certain that there’s anything that could be said to ease his devastation, but melts into you even more so when you tell him,

“Atsumu, I thought you already knew that nothing can change the way I look at you.”

#atsumu miya x you #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #angst #one shot #fluff #drabble #imagine #alright if this doesn't make it to the tags im never posting again

[sonic-adventure-3]

wait do people know about grind plate heelys. soap shoes are owned by heelys nowadays (acquired about a year or two after sa2 iirc) and they made soap shoes heelys

lookit em!! soap heelys!!!

#these aren’t actually like authentic soap shoes cause the grind plate on these are just plastic instead of the ground plate on real soaps #and they don’t use the soap branding for em #but they only started producing these after they acquired soap so you get the picture #rambles #action sport posting #<- THIS is why that’s the tag and not skate posting #wait actually nvm abt the grind plate bit i did some fact checking and i don’t know what i’m talking about #they LOOK different but i actually don’t have anything conclusive on that point

[scribbledghost]

Sorry I just need to get this out.

Using the guys as your taste testers for recipes 🥰 like. I’m Korean, so something I always thought was really cute was making kimchi with the family. Like the whole set up where we all sit around a kiddie pool and talk shit about whatever drama we’re watching while seasoning the cabbage.

Can you imagine? Living alone (possible neighbor Simon situation?) and totally still trying to keep up the tradition but it’s hard to make a few jars of kimchi (or idk cookies? We only have large batch recipe and I refuse to math out a smaller measurement 😂) alone and you end up asking Simon or his buddies to help with promises of free food.

Like. Feeding people is my love language. I just want to have get together a with them all and feed them while we criticize whatever trash tv show we end up watching.

Price is trying to keep us on track to finish within a reasonable time but Gaz, Soap, and you are arguing about the drama happening on tv.

Ghost is silently working on whatever Price hands him. He’s secretly enjoying this, don’t let his perma rbf fool you… Might sneak a few bites of food if no one is watching.

Soap is 100% sampling food, don’t even try to stop him and he’s roping Gaz into it as well.

Hand feeding is kinda normal/casual in my family, but I can imagine it would take the guys by surprise at first when you try to feed them something lol.

Flirting? No. Eat 😂

Making kimchi in a kiddie pool together means we’re family now ❤️

Note: I love this??? I love learning abt other peoples' traditions so much. An entire kiddie pool!?!? That's so much food!!! Tell me more!!! Is the Kiddie Pool Technique usually only used for kimchi or can you make other dishes like this too?? idk you don't have to answer any of that if you don't want to, I just love this idea so much

But yes, you're so so right that this is the perfect Neighbor!AU scenario. You tell Simon one day about the tradition, but note how hard it is to do all of it on your own. He offers to help, but you tell him that it'll still be difficult, even with two people.

"Unless you invite your friends, that is."

(Was this a carefully constructed ploy to get the rest of the team to visit? Maybe. Maybe not. You'll never tell.)

Anyway, once the promise of free food has been made, they're all showing up. All of 'em. No question. Price even shows up early to help you prep, along with Simon. He's good at delegating whatever tasks you tell him need to happen, and though he acts like you and the Sergeants are getting on his last nerve by how distracted you get with the TV, he's totally watching too. And he has many opinions about it. Go on, ask him. He'll tell you while trying desperately to pretend he hasn't been paying attention to the show.

Soap and Gaz are definitely completely engrossed in the television. They're still doing good work at whatever tasks they've been given, but they're also making constant comments about the characters/people on the screen (especially Gaz). Simon's just sort of quietly working away, listening in and definitely forming his own opinions about the show, but not offering anything verbally. Protip: Ask him about it later and he's giving you a full analysis.

Now, as for the sampling/eating... listen. I'll be honest with you. Simon's probably got a. Very limited palate. Like, "Beans on toast is culinary genius" limited. He's a working class boy from Manchester, England. Certain brands of ketchup are too spicy for him. (I am allowed to poke fun at him for this because I also suffer from Can't Handle Spice Disease). But!! If there is one thing he is, it's up for new experiences. So he's definitely gonna give it a try. Probably finds out he likes it more than he thought he would (make sure he has some water on hand though).

The rest though? They immediately try and dig in. Does not matter how much you scold them for it, does not matter how much you try to prevent it from happening. None of it works. Even Price once makes the mistake of chastising Soap and Gaz for sampling food while he, himself, has a mouthful. Soap especially cannot. Stop. Eating. It's a miracle if you actually have any kimchi left by the end.

Also LMAO at the idea of you feeding them by hand and them taking it the wrong way. Cause you know they will at first, Soap in particular (Simon and Price may not think much of it, but the other two definitely misconstrue the action as flirtatious). Just imagine you go to hand-feed Soap something and it's just like:

"Ah, flirtin' wi' me in front'a the whole gang, hen?"

"...What? No?? This is what family does. Now eat."

Overall, all of them have a blast. Every so often, one of them will ask Simon when you can all get together and do it again.

#simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #ghost scribbles

[sensei-aishitemasu]

2021 Black-Owned Gift Guide!

2021 Black-Owned Gift Guide!

It’s that time again! Our SEVENTH ANNUAL BLACK-OWNED GIFT GUIDE IS HERE!!!! This Black Friday, try and support a Black-owned business for all your gift-giving needs. For last years gift guide, click here. For the 2019 gift guide, click here. For the 2018 gift guide, click here. For the 2017 gift guide, click here. For the 2016 gift guide, click here. For the 2015 gift guide, click here.

Similar to previous lists, I kept every individual item listed under $100! Click on the links to be taken to the websites in order to peruse more yourselves: all businesses listed are Black-owned, and many are run by Black women, Black Americans specifically, manufactured here in the United States, and/or sustainably and ethically sourced with philanthropic causes attached to sales! Lots of new brands this year so check them out.

New category this year: For the Active!

[As always, this guide has been split into categories to make it easier to get through, but feel free to mix and match for the person in your life that fits all of (or none of!) these categories!]

 NOTE: If you try to open links and they don’t work, I would recommend trying to open it either in the tumblr app if you have it (if you are using a third party site) or through your internet browser. If worst comes to worst, copy + pasting the items in your search engine or highlighting, right-click and "searching in browser" option should also take you directly to the website! Tumblr made some changes recently that are terrible 🙄 I think they put a cap on how many links you can have in a post.

For the Homebody:

Home on Earth Crystal Heart-Shaped Jewelry Holder, $25 Home on Earth Geometric Silhouette Vase, $13.99 Home on Earth Aqua Vase, $16 Home on Earth 80s Funky Tissue Box, $15 Home on Earth Crystal Skirt Candle Holder, $12

Lettie Gooch Gold Candle Care Kit, $38 (pictured) Lettie Gooch Boucle Woven Throw, $78 (pictured) Lettie Gooch ‘Sweater Weather’ Soy Candle, $28

Debra Cartwright ‘Suite’ Print, $75 (pictured)

Jeff Manning ‘Freedom Feather’ Print, $45

Ode Vintage Shop L.E Smith Amber Candlestick Holders, $34 Ode Vintage Shop Smooth Wood Water Buffalo, $20

Harlem Candle Company ‘Langston’ Luxury Room Spray, $30 Harlem Candle Company Harlem Holiday Travel Gift Set, $65 (pictured)

Unlikely Fox Yarn, $27 (pictured)

Create The Culture ‘It Could Be Worse’ Embroidery Kit, $20 (pictured) Create The Culture ‘James Baldwin’ Pillow, $80 (pictured)

Mosh Decor Snake Velvet Pillow, $50

Kicky Mats ‘All Are Welcome Here’ Rainbow Mat, $40 Kicky Mats ‘Good Vibes Only’ Mat, $65 (pictured) Kicky Mats ‘So Fresh So Clean’ Bath Mat, $40 Kicky Mats ‘So Icy’ LED Light, $30

228 Grant Street Candle Co. Long Matches, $13 228 Grant Street Candle Co. Balsam Fir Apothecary Jar, $34 228 Grant Street Candle Co. Sea Salt + Orchid Apothecary Jar, $34

Rituals + Ceremony Anonomy Sculptures, $79 (pictured) Rituals + Ceremony Large Art Tray, $42 Rituals + Ceremony Small Art Tray, $36 Rituals + Ceremony USB Travel Ultrasonic Essential Oil Diffuser, $25.00

Fill More Waste Less Bamboo Soap Dish, $7.99 Fill More Waste Less Lovie Packs, $23.99 Fill More Waste Less Peppermint Eucalyptus Shower Steamers, $3.75

Secret Scents of Ella ‘Parker’ Créme Brulée Torso, $26 Secret Scents of Ella ‘Parker’ Luna Torso, $26 Secret Scents of Ella ‘Umber’ Luna Torso, $27 Secret Scents of Ella ‘Umber’ Créme Brulée Torso, $27

Game Time:

Trading Races, $19.99 Winsults, $25 The 1998 Deck ‘What’s Beef?’, $35 (pictured) Trap Spelling Bee, $29.99 (pictured) Point ‘Em Out, $19.99 (pictured) ‘Don’t Lie’ Drinking Game, $19.99 (pictured) Let’s Argue, $24.99 ‘CultureTags’ Card Game, $24.08 (pictured) One Gotta Go, $25 (pictured) Rhyme Antics, $16.99 Truth or Trivia, $16.99 ‘Friday’ Trivia Game, $8.99 ‘Coming To America’ Trivia Game, $8.99 (pictured) Brilliant or BS?, $15.99 (pictured) Financial IQ, $20

For the Active:

Toned by BaggedEm ‘In My Zen’ Yoga Mat, $79  Toned by BaggedEm ‘In My Zen’ Gym Bag, $54.99

Soul Cap Swimming Cap, $22.99 (pictured)

Beast Bodi ‘Delightful’ Workout Set, $36 (pictured) Beast Bodi ‘Diva’ Workout Set, $36 Beast Bodi ‘Fearless’ Workout Set, $36 (pictured) Beast Bodi ‘Fly Girl’ Workout Set, $51 (pictured) Beast Bodi ‘Hidden Treasure’ Workout Set, $43.50 (pictured) Beast Bodi ‘Be Kings & Queens’ Wellness Powder, $40 

Actively Black Athleisure Shoe, $100 (pictured) Actively Black ‘Color Collection’ Black Biker Shorts, $36 (pictured) Actively Black ‘Color Collection’ Athleisure Bra, $33.75 Actively Black Tech Shorts, $41.25 Actively Black ‘GREATNESS’ Performance Tank, $35 Actively Black Band Bra, $45 (pictured) Actively Black Steel Sports Bottle 2.0, $25 (pictured)

For the Foodie:

Fill More Waste Less Khala & Co. Vegan Wax Food Wraps, $15.99 (pictured) Fill More Waste Less Porter 12oz Travel Mug, $24.99 Fill More Waste Less Porter Travel Utensil Set, $17.99 Fill More Waste Less Vegetable Brush, $6.99 (pictured)

The Spice Suite Spice Bag w/Hearty Savory, $60 (pictured)

Linoto Reusable Linen Towels, $8 (pictured) Linoto Linen Dinner Napkins, $16 (pictured)

The Tea Bar 901 Honey Party Favors, $2.90 The Tea Bar 901 Local Honey, $25 (pictured) The Tea Bar 901 Cinnamon Honey, $35 

Makeda’s Cookies Variety Dozen, $29.99

Mutt’s Sauce Combo Pack, $29

‘The Taste of Country Cooking: The 30th Anniversary Edition of a Great Southern Classic Cookbook’ by Edna Lewis, $24.79 

‘Black Food: Stories, Art, and Recipes from Across the African Diaspora [A Cookbook]’ by Bryant Terry, $36.80

‘Jubilee: Recipes from Two Centuries of African American Cooking: A Cookbook’ by Toni Tipton-Martin, $32.20

‘The Jemima Code: Two Centuries of African American Cookbooks’ by Toni Tipton-Martin, $41.40 (pictured)

‘High on the Hog: A Culinary Journey from Africa to America’ (Now A Netflix Show!) by Jessica B. Harris, $20

‘Pay Black Farmers’ T-Shirt in Wheat and Goldenrod, $20 (pictured)

Love Cork Screw ‘Wine Retreat’ Gift Set, $75  Love Cork Screw ‘Head Over Heels’ Riesling, $18

Sip & Share Wines, ‘Love’ White Zinfandel, $21

Kashmir Viii ‘Still That’ Mug, $18 Kasmir Viii ‘WDOYS’ Apron, $40

Estelle Colored Champagne Coupe Stemware, $85 (pictured)

Ode Vintage Shop Silver-Accented Espresso Mugs, $30 Ode Vintage Shop Vintage Smiley Face Mug, $15 Ode Vintage Shop Libbey Margarita Glass (Set of 2), $20

Kicky Mats ‘As For Me And My House, We Will Serve TACOS’ Mat, $50

Brass Cuisine Seafood Seasoning, $8 Brass Cuisine "The Brass Experience" Multi-Purpose Seasoning, $8 Brass Cuisine Spice Container, $13 Brass Cuisine Garlic Pepper Seasoning, $19.50

For the Beauty Guru:

Shea Bakery Scar Healing Serum, $12.99  Shea Bakery Milk Body Wash, $11.99 

Galerie LA Botanica Rose Roller, $16 (pictured) 

The Lip Bar ‘Squad Goals’ Face Palette, $22 The Lip Bar ‘Smoker’s Lounge’ Eyeshadow Palette, $11  The Lip Bar ‘Double Duty’ Makeup Brush Kit Brushes, $36 (pictured)

Fill More Waste Less Oneka Face Cream, $4.20 (pictured) Fill More Waste Less Organic Cotton Reusable Make-Up Remover Pads, $18 Fill More Waste Less Nail Brush, $4.99

OOO Top Coat, $11.50  OOO Soy Nail Polish Remover, $11.75 (pictured) OOO Baol Polish, $6 OOO Aguleri Polish, $11 OOO LED/UV Nail Lamp, $50 

Kayva Cosmetics Rose Whipped Body Scrub, $20 Kayva Cosmetics Rose Body Oil, $18  Kayva Cosmetics Rose Whipped Body Butter, $22 

Body Love Self Care Shop Bath Bomb, $8.88

Jiri Naturals Scalp Serum, $16.50 (pictured) Jiri Naturals Rosewater & Lime Purifying Toner, $17.50 Jiri Naturals Restorative Avocado Hair Mask, $15.99  Jiri Naturals Carrot Seed & Marula Face & Neck Cream, $24.99 Jiri Naturals Blood Orange Clay Wash, $11.99 Jiri Naturals Flawless Face Kit, $65.50 Jiri Naturals Bergamont Sage Herbal Shower Gel, $9

Flora & Noor Earth and Ocean Acne Fighting Mask, $16.80 Flora & Noor Rose Renewal Cleanser, $24 Flora & Noor Berry Oxygen Mask With Glycolic Acid, $32.00  Flora & Noor #NOFILTER Enzyme Mask, $32 (pictured) Flora & Noor Hydration Station Aloe + Green Tea Cleanser, $24 (pictured) Flora & Noor Super C Moisturizer, $34  Flora & Noor Bright Side Serum, $34 

Anubiann Lip Mask, $3.50 

Sweet Butter Bae ‘Birthday Bae’ Whipped Sugar Scrub, $16.50 Sweet Butter Bae ‘Birthday Bae’ Whipped Shea Butter, $12.50

Cocoa Bean Cosmetics ‘Friend or Faux’ Mink Lashes, $9  Cocoa Bean Cosmetics ‘Flirt’ Lashes, $9 Cocoa Bean Cosmetics ‘Date Night’ Lashes, $9 Cocoa Bean Cosmetics ‘Cocoa Puff’ Lashes, $9 Cocoa Bean Cosmetics ‘Mama's Mink’ Lashes, $9

Audacia ‘Illustrious’ Highlighter, $13 (pictured) Audacia ‘Ethereal’ Highlighter, $13

FACE. Detoxifying Clay Mask, $26 (pictured) FACE. Turmeric + Adzuki Bean Scrub, $28 FACE. Hydrating Facial Serum, $28

AfroPick (Power), $19 

hunnybunny Lavender Bath Salts, $22  hunnybunny Sea Clay Facial Mask, $15 

BeijaFlorNaturals 5-Piece Beija Body Bundle, $65 

Love Tee Tee Red Rose Tuxedo Reusable Press-On Nails, $35 Love Tee Tee Fruit Jelly Glitter Reusable Press-On Nails, $16

For the Fashion Conscious: 

Grant Blvd Mid Length Skirt w/ Cutouts, $55 Grant Blvd Floral Face Mask, $8  Grant Blvd Bandeau Top, $38  Grant Blvd ‘Sustainable Shit Only’ Fanny Pack, $26

Nappy Head Club ‘Nappy’ Cross Tank, $54 (pictured) Nappy Head Club ‘Good Hair’ Scarf, $38  Nappy Head Club Bucket Hat, $42 (pictured)

The Silver Room ‘Black Joy’ T-Shirt, $35 

Nubian Hueman ‘The Future Is Female And Black’ Jogger Set, $55

Compton Flight Crew ‘Compton Republic’ Coffee T-Shirt, $19  Compton Flight Crew ‘Catch Vibez’ Tee, $18 

Frenchwood Studios Tube Socks, $25 (pictured)

Threads by Rai Leather Shorts, $55 Threads by Rai Denise Sweat Set, $65 Threads by Rai Cow Print Denim, $65 Threads by Rai Danica Clutch, $38 (pictured) Threads by Rai Skylar Dress, $50 Threads by Rai Rylee Dress, $25 (pictured) Threads by Rai Olivia Zip Up Sweater, $30

Kashmir Viii ‘The Man-A Lisa’ Tee, $45  Kashmir Viii ‘Sincere & Buns’ Tee, $47  Kashmir Viii ‘Chill or Be Chilled’ Tee, $45  Kashmir Viii ‘The V.I.B’ Tee, $37 (pictured)

Kicky Mats ‘Bad Bih’ Lace Jewels, $14  Kicky Mats ‘Black Women Don’t Owe You Shit’ Crew, $35  Kicky Mats ‘Blow Me’ Pin, $12 (pictured)

AllVeryGoods No. 20 Stardust Bandana, $24 (pictured)

Silkbar Studio Silk-Lined Plain Cap, $40  Silkbar Studio Silk-Lined Beanie, $40 

Flat Out of Heels Black Oxford with Laces, $39.99 

Accented Dialogue ‘Louisiana Creoles’ Team Jersey, $37  Accented Dialogue ‘Black Vernac’ All Over Print Unisex Tee, $29  Accented Dialogue Black American Heritage Flag Neck Gaiter, $23 

Ode Vintage Shop Vintage Mink Fur Stole, $90 

Jolie Noire Premium Magnolia Long Shorts, $55 (pictured) Jolie Noire Women's Scarf Print Premium Shorts - Cream, $50  Jolie Noire Orangesicle Earrings, $45  Jolie Noire Clear Arches Earrings, $40  Jolie Noire Cat Eye Glasses, $35  

Galerie LA Dolores Top Stripes, $68

For the Bookworm:

‘Feeding the Soul (Because It’s My Business): Finding Our Way To Joy, Love, and Freedom’ by Tabitha Brown, $27.99

‘The 1619 Project: A New Origin Story by Nikole Hannah-Jones, $38 (pictured)

‘The Last Cruze’ by LaToya Ruby Frazier, $50

‘Royal Holiday’ by Jasmine Guillory, $20 (pictured)

‘The Wedding Party’ by Jasmine Guillory, $15 

‘Listen to Me Good: The Story of an Alabama Midwife’ by Margaret Charles Smith, $24.95

‘We Are Each Other's Harvest: Celebrating African American Farmers, Land, and Legacy’ by Natalie Baszile, $36.79 (pictured)

‘An Unkindness of Ghosts’ by Rivers Solomon, $14.67 (pictured)

‘The Deep’ by Rivers Solomon, $13.79

‘So Many Beginnings: A Little Women Remix’ by Bethany C. Morrow, $10.11 (pictured)

‘Folk Beliefs Of The Southern Negro’ by Newbell Niles Puckett Ph.D., $25

Rayo & Honey ‘bad ass black women of literature’ Tote Bag, $48 (pictured) Rayo & Honey ‘eat words drink stars’ Bookmark, $8 (pictured) Rayo & Honey ‘hundreds of books under my skin’ Pin, $12 

Addie Rawr ‘Book Club’ Stickers, $7.50 (pictured) Addie Rawr ‘A Reading Place’ Print, $20 (pictured)

For The Kids:

Kashmir Viii ‘The Keke’ Print, $40 

Fill More Waste Less Eco Star Crayons, $4.99 (pictured) Fill More Waste Less Eco Teether ‘Calmies’, $12.99  Fill More Waste Less All Natural Rubber Children’s Blocks, $25.99  Fill More Waste Less Baby Car, $17.99 

Compton Flight Crew Kids CFC Signature Sweatpants, $20  Compton Flight Crew CFC Kids Large Patch Tee, $15

The Silverroom ‘The Snuggle Is Real’ Onesie, $20 (pictured)

YiniBini Baby Lace Top Knee High Socks, $7.50 (pictured) YiniBini Baby ‘Curls’ by Ruth Forman, $8.99  YiniBini Baby 'The Day You Begin’ by Jacqueline Woodson, $18.99  YiniBini Baby ‘Glow’ by Ruth Forman, $8.99  YiniBini Baby ABC Affirmations, $25  YiniBini Baby Alvin the Elephant Soft Toy, $35  YiniBini Baby ‘Black Boy Joy/Black Girl Magic’ Gift Set, $33 

‘The Dark-Thirty: Southern Tales of the Supernatural’ by Patricia McKissack, $7.35 

‘The Lion and the Mouse’ by Jerry Pinkney, $17.47 

‘The Little Mermaid’ by Jerry Pinkney, $17.47 

‘Mirandy and Brother Wind’ by Patricia McKissack, $7.99 

‘The Talking Eggs: A Folktale from the American South’ by Robert D. San Souci, $16.55 (pictured)

‘Maya and the Robot’ by Eve Ewing, $16.99 

‘Forever This Summer’ by Leslie C. Youngblood, $15.63 (pictured)

‘J.D. and the Family Business’ by J. Dillard, $15.99

‘Pax Samson Vol. 1, 1: The Cookout’ by Rashad Doucet, $13.79 (pictured)

‘We Are Family’ by LeBron James, $16.55

‘Fast Pitch’ by Nic Stone, $16.55 

‘Bayou Magic’ by Jewell Parker Rhodes, $26 (pictured)

Accented Dialect ‘Reflection, Refraction’ Backpack, $45 (pictured)

Ikd Kids African American Rag Doll, $45

Kaan’s Designs ‘But Why?’ Kids Natural T-Shirt, $21  Kaan’s Designs Family Matching T-shirt Set - Dope Mom, Dad, Kid & Babe (Black), $26  Kaan’s Designs, Starburst Blackberry Dope Babe Set, $32  Kaan’s Designs Mini Backpack with Custom Varsity Letter, $30 (pictured) Kaan’s Designs Personalized Kids Bag - Custom Mini Backpack w/Varsity Letters, $32

For the Masculine 

Bevel Daily Essentials Bundle, $69.95 (pictured)

Solo Noir Facial Kit, $49.99 

Scotch Porter Fragrance Library, $27.99 

Levi Fisher Beard Bundle, $39.99 

Chris Cardi ‘H St. NE’ Dad Denim Hat, $21.03 

The Silverroom Camo Pocket Square, $30  The Silverroom Baby G-Shock Watch, $80 (pictured) The Silverroom Admiral Row Dark Grey Checkered Skinny Tie, $45 (pictured) The Silverroom Admiral Row Grey Patterned Bow Tie, $39  The Silverroom Stainless Steel Bracelet w/2 Extension Links, $45  The Silverroom Brushed Stainless Steel 9" Bracelet, $45  The Silverroom Stainless Steel Cuban Link Necklace in Gold/Silver, $60 (pictured)

Nubian Hueman Black Panther Lapel Pin, $15 (pictured)

Jolie Noire Premium Floral Shorts, $55 (pictured)  Jolie Noire Scarf Print Shorts, $55 Jolie Noire Scarf Print T-shirt, $55

JFG ‘Outside Clothes’ Socks, $20 

Nappy Head Club ‘Waves on Swim’ Tee, $31.50 

Sir and Madame ‘New Classic’ Beanie in Orange, $55 (pictured)

EAT Cargo Jogger, $80 

DC Proper Team Short, $21 

Linoto Linen Boxer Shorts, $29.95 

Actively Black Premium Slides, $45 (pictured) Actively Black Performance Mask, $14  Actively Black Duffel Bag, $65 (pictured) Actively Black CrossBody Carbon Fiber Bag, $45  Actively Black Basketball, $45 

For the Tech-Savvy

Khristian A. Howell Cava Black Sleek and Chic Phone Case, $39.99  Khristian A. Howell Montpelier Sleek and Chic Phone Case, $39.99  Khristian A. Howell Leopard Added Amour Phone Case, $44.99 (pictured) Khristian A. Howell Mosaic Black Added Amour Phone Case, $44.99

Chic Geeks Final Cut Pro X Shortcuts Keyboard Cover, $20 (pictured) Chic Geeks Adobe Photoshop Shortcuts Keyboard Cover, $20 Chic Geeks Unicorn Keyboard Cover, $20 Chic Geeks Space Gray Ombre Keyboard Cover, $20 Chic Geeks Canary Faux Crocodile iPad Case, $75 (pictured) Chic Geeks Black Faux Crocodile iPhone Case, $50  Chic Geeks Rose Gold Glitter MacBook Case, $65 (pictured) Chic Geeks Webcam Cover, $10

NSPRE Echobuds Mini, $59.99 (pictured) NSPRE ‘The Solace’ Smart Glasses, $89.99 (pictured)

Love Tee Tee iPhone 11Pro Max Case ‘Alien Dreamer,’ $35 (pictured) Love Tee Tee iPhone 11Pro Max Case ‘Doll Dreams,’ $35 Love Tee Tee iPhone 12 Mini Case ‘Cutthroat,’ $30 Love Tee Tee iPhone 12 Case ‘Moon Child,’ $35 Love Tee Tee Gemstone Phone Grip, $20

PupcakesCupcats ‘Nyantendo’ Switch Zipper Pouch, $20 (pictured)

Sweet Bitz ‘Sweet Gamer’ Fannypack, $65 (pictured)

For the Goth/Kawaii

Bisou Lovely ‘Juliet’ Ring, $80 

Hard Decora Black ALT Fashion Fist, $40 

PlusHiiKawaii Jumbo Button Hair Clip, $13  PlusHiiKawaii Pretty Pegasus Dangle Earrings, $10 (pictured) PlusHiiKawaii Gothic Gummy Bear Stud Earrings, $10

Starlight Deco Dream Vroom Vroom Car Resin Hair Clip, $25  Starlight Deco Dream "Pizza Time" Soft Enamel Pin, $5  Starlight Deco Dream Nurse Kani Epoxy Resin Keychain, $15 

Melty Chocolate Moon ‘Gay in Space’ Shirt, $51

Proper Gnar ‘Rise’ Skateboard Deck, $63  Proper Gnar Spiderwebs Pants, $43.35 (pictured) Proper Gnar Weapons Button Down Shirt, $45.90 

Miss Candyholic Animal Crossing Fanny Packs, $45  Miss Candyholic ‘Cloudy Sky’ Fanny Pack, $55  Miss Candyholic ‘Magical Girls/Boys/Enbies for BLM’ Tote Bag, $20 (pictured) Miss Candyholic ‘Sleepy Bear’ Blue Backpack, $52  Miss Candyholic ‘Sleepy Pink’ Bear Adjustable Bag, $44 

Little Inkplay Shop ‘Afro Kawaii’ Shirt, $25  Little Inkplay Shop ‘Manekineko’ Plus Size Leggings, $47 

PupcakesCupcats ‘Spooky Stuff’ Sweatshirt, $55 PupcakesCupcats Kittagotchi and/or Puppigotchi Keychain, $14 PupcakesCupcats Washi Tape, $8 (pictured)

CiAyTea Deku T-Shirt, $25 (pictured)

Sweet Bitz ‘Dead Cute’ Hat, $25 Sweet Bitz ‘Galaxy Arcade’ Machine Pin, $12 Sweet Bitz ‘Lunar Fae’ Chain Pin Set, $20 (pictured)  Sweet Bitz MGU Mug, $20 

Kawaii Bath and Body ‘Attack on Titan Survey Corps’ Bath Bomb, $8.95 Kawaii Bath and Body ‘Akatsuki Cloud’ Bath Bomb, $9.95 

In Control Cow Print Overalls, $38.88 

Polka Dot Cutie Manta Ray Sticker, $3  Polka Dot Cutie Kawaii Potato T-Shirt, $30

Gothic Lamb ‘I Hate Everyone’ Beanie, $26  Gothic Lamb ‘Anti Social Black Girl Club’ Tee, $22 Gothic Lamb ‘Black Lives Matter’ Shorts, $44 

Von Kreep Art Skeleton Hand Earrings, $15 

Spookie Kidz ‘Drac’s Bae’ Graphic Tee, $25.99 

Mossbadger ‘Black Moon’ Earrings, $7 

Nasty Gem ‘Spiked Out’ Cuff, $17.50 (pictured)

#BLKGIRLSWURLD ‘Black Girls Moshing For Black Lives’ T-Shirt, $29.50 (pictured)

VickiBeWicked ‘Skull Boy’ Minky Pillow, $19.49 (pictured)

Drop Dead & Wrought Skeleton Keys Earrings, $20 Drop Dead & Wrought Skeleton Twins II Sunglasses, $30

Tears Of My Enemies ‘Skeleton Finger’ Plus Size Leggings, $58 

For the Esoteric

‘Hoodoo Cleansing and Protection Magic: Banish Negative Energy and Ward Off Unpleasant People’ by Miss Aida, $15.59 (pictured)

‘Working Conjure: A Guide to Hoodoo Folk Magic’ by Hoodoo Sen Moise, $17.43 (pictured)

Addie Rawr Zodiac Collection Mugs, $24

Body Love Self Care Shop ‘Positive Affirmations’ Soy Candle, $7.77 Body Love Self Care Shop ‘Manifest’ Soy Candle, $17.77 

Ebony & Green Raw Rose Quartz, $4.44 (pictured) Ebony & Green ‘Creativity’ Crystal Set, $12 Ebony & Green Calcite Crystal Set, $6

Rituals & Ceremony Organic Witch Hazel Sprays, $24 (pictured) Rituals & Ceremony Cleansing Pocket Altar Kit, $28 (pictured) Rituals & Ceremony Love Spell Altar Kit, $42 (pictured)

Kicky Mats Zodiac Keychain, $12  Kicky Mats Zodiac Stickers, $12 Kicky Mats ‘Protection from Assholes’ Pin, $12 (pictured) Kicky Mats ‘Not Enough Sage’ Pin, $12 Kicky Mats ‘Check Your Energy’ Evil Eye Mat, $50 (pictured)

Lettie Gooch Full Moon Release Candle, $28 (pictured) Lettie Gooch Full Moon Bath Bomb, $10 

For the Love of Us Sacral Heart Connection Incense, $22 

For Your Activist Bae 

‘The Rallying Point’ by Melvin Charles, $20 (pictured)

‘The Man-Not: Race, Class, Genre, and the Dilemmas of Black Manhood’ by Tommy J. Curry, $34.95 

‘Flint Is Family in Three Acts’ by Latoya Ruby Frazier, $59.80

Kicky Mats ‘Black Lives Matter’ Pin, $12 (pictured) Kicky Mats ‘Well-Behaved Women Rarely Make History’ Pin, $12 (pictured)

The Silverroom ‘What’s Going On?’ T-Shirt, $55 (pictured) The Silverroom ‘The Greats’ T-Shirt, $30  The Silverroom ‘Everything You Love About America’ T-Shirt, $25 

Philadelphia Printworks School of Thought ‘Harriet Tubman’ Collegiate T-Shirt, $25  Philadelphia Printworks ‘Panther’s Legacy’ Hoodie, $40 (pictured) Philadelphia Printworks ‘Thank Black Women’ Long-Sleeve T-Shirt, $30 

‘American Protest’ by Mel D. Cole, $45 

Nappy Head Club ‘Always Black, Never Sorry’ Tee, $31.50  Nappy Head Club ‘The Black Without Apology’ Tote Bag, $27 (pictured) Nappy Head Club ‘Make D.C. Nappy Again’ Tote Bag, $26.25 

Grant Blvd ‘End Mass Incarceration’ Mask, $18  Grant Blvd ‘End Cash Bail’ Tote Bag, $26 

All Very Goods ‘Power’ Button T-Shirt, $28 

Urban Profile ‘Me and the Man’ Shirt, $18.99  Urban Profile ‘James Brown - Black and Proud’ Shirt, $24.99 (pictured)

Little Ink Play Shop ‘Black Power’ Sticker, $2 (pictured)

Kashmir Viii ‘Angela Davis’ Iron-On Patch, $8 (pictured) Kashmir Viii ‘Malcolm/Ali/ Notebook, $12  Kashmir Viii ‘HBSEEYOU’ Tote Bag, $30 

Cards, Notebooks, and Wrapping Paper: 

VickiBeWicked Skull Christmas Gift Tag Stickers, $3.75 (pictured)

Dark Jasmine Goth Gift Wrapping Paper, $13.50 

Khristian A. Howell Meander Gift Wrap, $8.99  Khristian A. Howell Leopard Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell Nina Gift Wrap, $8.99 Khristian A. Howell Rosy Holiday Gift Wrap, $8.99

Midnight Reflections Chocolate Nutcracker Wrapping Paper, $20.99 (pictured) Midnight Reflections Melanin Pointe Shoes Stripes Wrapping Paper, $20.99  Midnight Reflections In Love With Hip Hop Wrapping Paper, $20.99  Midnight Reflections Black Santa Claus Gift Bag Kit, $14.99 (pictured) Midnight Reflections Prima Ballerina Blank Journal, $21.99 (pictured)

Greentop Gifts Clarence Claus Gift Bag, $4.50 Greentop Gifts Clarence Claus ‘HOHOHO’ Gift Wrap, $8.50

The Silverroom Holiday Greeting Card ‘We Wish You A Merry Christmas,’ $5 (pictured) The Silverroom ‘The Black Madonna’ Holiday Card, $6 (pictured) The Silverroom ‘To Be Jolly’ Holiday Card, $6 The Silverroom ‘Presents Galore’ Holiday Card, $5  The Silverroom Polaroid Notebook, $19.95  The Silverroom ‘Get Sh*t Done’ Notepad, $16.99 (pictured) The Silverroom Retro Technology Notebook, $14.99 

PupcakesCupcats Cat Sketchbook, $24.99 (pictured) PupcakesCupcats Shiba Inu Pupset 5 Pack Folded Greeting Cards, $12  PupcakesCupcats Meowdy Pawtner 5 Pack Folded Greeting Cards, $12

Addie Rawr 2022 Special Edition Monthly Calendars, $11

Body Love Self Care Shop ‘Boss Babe’ Notebook, $22.22  Body Love Self Care Shop ‘Black Girl Magic’ Notebook, $18.88 (pictured)

Kasmir Viii ‘Still That’ Notebook, $12 

Harlem Candle Company Vintage Nightclub Greeting Card, $5 Harlem Candle Company Set of 10 Vintage Nightclub Greeting Cards, $30

#my posts #black owned gift guide #support black owned business

[starkeristheendgame]

Inspired by 9-1-1 (on Fox), which is my current obsession. I highly recommend checking it out and it’s spin-off series 9-1-1: Lonestar. If you already like 9-1-1 and Buddie (Buck and Eddie) then you should check out my new main account @therogueheart. Liberty has been taken with protocols and practices here, but the land of fiction knows no rules.

Firefighter!Tony x Civilian!Peter.

TW: Age difference | Under-negotiated sexual content | Unrealistic practises

“NYFD! We’re evacuating the block!”

“NYFD, are any residents present?”

Peter jerked awake to loud yelling and incessant pounding on his door, flailing blearily in bed for a moment before he fell off the side of in a heap of limbs and bedding, scrambling to get upright.

He shrugged on a hoodie and tripped into a pair of combat boots, stumbling his way sleepily to the door. He was operating on barely five hours of sleep and felt every hour he was sorely missing - though his midterms were a good enough reason to burn the midnight oil.

He wrenched the door open just as a firefighter on the other side went to swing the breach ram into it, letting out a squeak of panic as it stopped mere inches from his belly. The man wielding it was huge; with short blond hair and shoulders that could fit a person comfortably on either side. 

“That was close, I could’ve ruptured your entire torsal cavity and killed you!” the firefighter boomed cheerfully, straightening up with a broad, dazzling smile. Peter let out a faint noise and did his best not to pass out, sagging against the doorframe and gripping it. 

He was wide fucking awake now, that was for sure.

“My name is Thor, I’m with the NYPD, Manhattan division. We’re evacuating the block, there’s been a gas leak on the lower and mid levels and there’s risk of combustion,” the man ordered, slinging the ram over his shoulder and gesturing to the hallway. Peter could hear other voices, all similar conversations amidst the yells of NYPD, open up!

“Uh,” was all Peter got out before he was being ushered out of his doorway. Firefighter Thor nudged him several steps forwards before Peter’s brain finally came online and he jerked to a stop.

“Wait! I need my Adderall and my phone! If I don’t call Aunt May she’s gonna kill me and if I don’t take my meds I’m gonna be screwed!”

Thor looked undecided, brows pinching. “You shouldn’t-”

“It’s okay, Thor. Move onto the North quadrant; I’ll stay with this one,” came a voice from behind them and Peter turned, shrinking in on himself a little. 

Illuminated in the crappy hallway lighting was a man who looked like he’d stepped straight off a movie billboard. He wasn’t as tall or the same brand of clean-cut Hollywood handsome that Thor was, but he was just as attractive. More so, if Peter was going to acknowledge his tendency to lust after men twice or even thrice his age. 

The man had black hair swept into a neat side-leaning quiff, a hint of salt and pepper at his temples. His facial hair had been styled in a way that ought to look ridiculous but only served to give him a unique, sharp look, accentuating the shape of his jaw. 

The man winked at him and Peter realised he’d been staring. When he glanced to the side Thor had already moved off out of sight and the firefighter left behind gestured to Peter’s door, which was thankfully still open ajar from where he’d been rushed out.

“Uh, thanks. Thank you...Sir? Officer?” he cringed at his own awkwardness, shuffling past. The man looked amused, quirking a brow and pursing his lips a little, even as something indescribable flashed in his eyes. 

“Sir works just fine, if that’s your thing. But for the record - I’m Captain Stark. Pretty boys get to call me Tony, though,” the man winked again, teasing seeping into his voice as Peter flushed and beelined for his bed, grabbing his phone from it’s charger and scooping up his bill box and keys. 

He lamented not being able to grab anything else, but he knew better than to put himself (and someone else) at risk by lingering. Tony ushered him out of the door with a hand on the small of his back, guiding him towards the stairwell. Peter could hear noises and voices on the lower levels but realised with surprise that they were the only two left on the topmost floor.

“You were dead to the world, kid. Thor was banging on your door like crazy. We almost gave you up for not in,” Tony voiced, seemingly understanding his realisation. Peter flushed again and mumbled something about studying, hurrying down the stairs as quickly as he could, Tony a close and solid presence at his back.

It wasn’t until the cool, outside air hit his legs that he realised he was still only wearing a thin hoodie and the shorts he’d gone to sleep in. He shivered in dismay, wrapping his arms around himself. He wasn’t the only one who’d clearly been dragged out of bed - there were people milling around in robes and pyjama sets. 

One poor man was even shivering in a ratty blanket, suds dripping from his hair and into his eyes. 

“What happened?” he asked, doing his best to stop his teeth from chattering. 

“Residents on the lower levels reported strong smells of sulphur and gas. We think it’s a line rupture or faulty heater somewhere. Full evac is protocol until we know for sure and can get started on a fix,” the fire Captain answered, steering him a little away from the main crowd and to one of the trucks. 

“Take a seat, kid,” Tony offered, gesturing to the step-up of the truck. Peter did, flinching as his bare skin met the icy metal. The man left him there, turning away to resume his role as he barked orders and disappeared off into the fray. Peter busied himself with his phone, only looking up when Tony’s voice boomed out over the crowd sometime later. 

“Alright, everybody listen up!” the man yelled, clapping his hands. “We’ve located the source of the gas and the good news is that it’s a relatively easy fix. The bad news is that it’ll take a minimum of four hours. In the name of safety, none of you can return to the building until it’s deemed safe to do so. Your landlord and building technicians will get in contact as soon as they’ve been given the okay for you to return home. In the meantime, I suggest you go visit friends, family, or find a nice coffee shop while you wait!”

An immediate chorus of groans, complaints and angry remarks bubbled up, the firefighters all doing their best to marshal the situation and contain the displeasure. Peter shuffled where he sat, chewing his lower lip in frustration. 

Aunt May was half a city away and on shift; Ned was visiting his Grandma and MJ’s girlfriend had stayed the night, meaning if Peter valued his eyes he couldn’t show up at her door. 

Which meant he was probably going to spend the next four hours shivering at a Starbucks and studying on his phone. 

Great. 

“You good, kid?” the voice was joined by a pair of turnout clad legs and Peter looked up, tossing his phone between his hands. Out in the natural light Captain Stark was even more handsome, a strange mix between rugged and polished. 

“Um, yeah. Just...Trying to decide which coffee shop I’m gonna move into,” he sighed, offering a weak smile. The Captain looked thoughtful. 

“Little thing like you, Mom and Dad weren’t just out getting milk?” his tone was teasing but curious. Peter shook his head. 

“Uh, no. I don’t...I did live with my Aunt. But I graduated highschool early and got a scholarship for the Manhattan Institute of Advanced Sciences. That shitty little studio is all mine,” he rattled the keys in his pocket and shifted. His butt had warmed the step some, but it still wasn’t exactly comfortable. 

As if sensing his discomfort the man shifted, peeling himself out of the huge, heavy turnout jacket. “Here, sit up a little,” the man coaxed, crouching down. Peter found himself enveloped in the jacket as Captain Stark wrapped it around him and tucked it under his ass and thighs, pulling it shut so it cocooned him in the heat. 

It smelt of soap and aftershave and maybe a little bit of sweat, and Peter found himself relaxing immediately, giving a hum of pleased satisfaction. 

Tony was smiling at him when he opened his eyes again and he flushed, saved from embarrassment by a tall, lithe man approaching. 

“Cap, we got ‘em all squared. Company is on the way for the fix. The one-five-nine offered to stay and play babysitter. We’re clear to move out.” The man had a purple band-aid on his right brow and did a double-take when he looked down at Peter. “We get a new recruit, Cap?”

Captain Stark looked thoughtfully between Peter and the man, fingers curling around his waistband.

“Alright. Barton, round up the others, call to move out. Have the one-five-nine use radio line six if they need us. We’re bringing back a station puppy.”

‘Barton’ glanced at Peter again, eyes raking over him before he did something between a smile and a smirk. “Copy that,” he confirmed, spinning on his heel and jogging off. 

“Huh?” was all Peter could think to say. 

“You’ve got nowhere better to go and you’ll freeze without getting changed. I’ve got some spare clothes at the station and you can hole up on the couch until we get the go-ahead to send you home. Rogers can cook, so let’s see if we can’t put a good breakfast in that belly,” Tony responded, nudging him up and out of the way so he could open the truck door. 

And that was how Peter found himself wedged into the truck with Clint Barton, Thor Odinson and Steve Rogers. They crammed a spare headset on him and grilled him on student life as they drove, Captain Stark chiming in from the front of the truck. 

The station they pulled into was huge, newly renovated and vast. Firefighter Thor set two hands on his hips, lifting him out of the truck easily and setting him down on the floor, ruffling his hair before dogpiling onto Steve, both of them stumbling and grappling away, arguing in snippets about door breaches. 

A little dazed, he startled when a hand fell to his back again and turned, flushing when Captain Stark smirked at him and nudged him towards the locker room. The others were already there, stripping out of their turnouts and talking animatedly. 

Peter was divested of the jacket but was given a thicker, warmer hoodie emblazoned with ‘NYPD’ and ‘Stark’, the older man rooting around in a locker for a moment before producing a pair of sweats. 

They were baggy but he double-tied them and rolled up the ankles and found them more than comfortable, shyly thanking the man. Tony was watching him, eyes dark again with that hidden thought, before he seemingly shook himself out of it and herded Peter towards a set of steps. 

Upstairs was a kitchen space and a small common area with two couches and a TV. Barton immediately handed him a steaming mug of herbal tea and Captain Stark ushered him to the table and after several minutes of sitting in their midst and listening to firefighting stories, Steve placed a plate of toast, beans, bacon and eggs under his nose. 

“Eat it before Barton mauls you for it,” Steve advised with a grin, sinking into the seat opposite him and stretching out, one arm slung around the back of Thor’s chair. Peter took the warning and dug in, shamelessly moaning at the taste. The eggs had been seasoned and there was something in the butter on the toast that made it rich and almost a little salty. 

“Better than sex, huh kid?” Tony teased from his side and Clint gasped, throwing his hands over Peter’s ears. 

“He doesn’t know what that is yet!”

After breakfast he was bundled onto the couch, handed a mug of tea to keep his hands warm and the remote to the TV as the others stomped down the staircase, citing organising their gear.

The alarm blared out as he was watching a nature documentary and he leaned over the balcony rail just in time to watch them leaping into the truck, flushing as the Captain shot him a wink before shutting the truck door, it’s sirens wailing and lights flashing as it pulled out of the bay.

They weren’t gone that long, but when the truck pulled back into the bay it was covered in dust and dirt. 

He padded down the staircase, pulling on the sleeves of his hoodie as he watched them all descend from the vehicle. They looked a little dusty and grimy, but otherwise unharmed. 

“Winch rescue up on the hiking trails,” Clint informed him as he jogged past, beelining for a room just past the lockers. “I’ve got dust in places it doesn't belong!”

The worst of them all was Steve, who’d apparently tripped over the winch line and gone tumbling down the hillside. He was largely unhurt, but he was also the last one out of the showers thanks to needing some extra scrubbing. 

“C’mon, kid. Time to earn your keep,” Tony teased once they were clean and dressed in LAFD shorts and shirts. They were filling buckets and bringing out plastic boxes full of soaps and polish, and he almost whimpered when he realised they were going to clean the truck. 

He was practically living a piece of fanfiction. 

Or torture. Either one was applicable. 

It took exactly ten minutes for someone to lose their shirt. Peter didn’t know if it was fortunate or unfortunate that it was Steve, who flexed his pecs with a wink when he caught Peter staring. As if not to be outdone, Thor immediately tugged his shirt over his head, baring an even bigger, beefier torso that fed the red flames burning up Peter’s cheeks. 

“Alright, show offs. Stop preening and get cleaning,” Tony barked at them good-naturedly, rolling his eyes as he handed Peter a sponge and flicked suds at the two taller blonds, who pulled faces but dove into the work with vigor. 

In an attempt to cool down his embarrassment he turned his attention to the truck, scrubbing gently in broad circles to match what the others were doing. He’d never realised just how big firetrucks were and he wondered idly how often they had to do this.

“Hey, shortstack, you wanna be on top?”

“Excuse me?” Peter squeaked, rounding on Captain Stark, who smirked at him and gestured to the roof of the truck and the little side ladder.

“On the roof. Tends to get gritty up there,” the man drawled, eyeing him in thinly veiled amusement. It had to be on purpose, Peter realised. Especially when he moved to the side ladder and a set of rough hands wrapped around his hips, boosting him up several rungs.

He settled down to scrub, listening to the soundtrack of the station and the men below, peering over the edge now and then to watch them or to join in the conversation. It was dizzying - having them all grinning up at him, sunny and sparkling and half-naked.

Mercifully, there wasn’t too much more teasing as they scrubbed and buffed and wiped. He wasn’t sure his cheeks could take getting any hotter - but then, where safer to combust but in the middle of a firehouse?

Captain Stark helped him down from the roof again with the same hold around his hips, thumbs rubbing brief circles along the ridges of the bones before the man stepped aside with a quirked smile.

“Hungry, kid?”

“If I don’t get fed soon I might start chewing off my own foot,” he harrumphed with a grin, ducking his head when Clint barked a laugh and ruffled his hair.

“Kid after my own stomach,” the man drawled, taking the steps three at a time in a way that Peter and his short legs watched enviously. 

Lunch was buffet bits like potato chips and little sponge-cake fingers and fruit, which Peter didn’t mind at all. He threw grapes into Clint’s mouth and arm-wrestled Steve and deliberately paid no attention at all to where Captain Stark’s leg pressed against his own under the table.

In the grand five hour total that he was there they got called out twice more, once for a tree rescue (a man who’d tried to save money by cutting his own yard tree, not a cat, much to Peter’s disappointment) and a small kitchen fire that left them bitching for a full hour afterwards about how people needed to stop trying to be Gordon Ramsey when they could barely cook packet ramen.

And then, just when the others were beginning to get shift about nearing their time to come off rotation, Peter’s phone rang. 

It was his landlord, sounding gruff and disinterested as he informed Peter the apartment had been deemed safe to re-enter, although all aparts were going to be required to keep their gas appliances off for the night and their windows open.

The others had stopped milling around in the locker room and listened in with thinly concealed interest, offering nods and smiles when it was revealed Peter was safe to hit home.

“Just on time, huh?” Steve beamed at him, ruffling his hair. 

“Aw, man. Do we have to give him back?” Clint whined in protest, swooping down to wrap himself around Peter like a clingy mink shrug. Peter giggled, tucking himself into the hold and putting on a pretend pout.

Truthfully; he didn’t want to leave. At first he’d been apprehensive about being stuck in a building with a bunch of strange men, but over the course of the day he’d come to cherish their family dynamic and the easy, comfortable companionship.

“You knew he was on loan, you layabouts,” Tony chastised them fondly, rolling his eyes. When his crew had been bullied into resuming their prep to leave, Captain Stark sank onto the bench next to Peter.

“You want a ride back, kid? I live past that area anyway and it’s my fault you’re so far out from home,” he noted with a warm smile, tugging on a boot and stooping to lace it.

Peter bit at his lower lip. Technically; he should say no. He didn’t actually know this man, and being a firefighter meant nothing for how trustworthy he was.

But…

“You don’t mind?” he asked lightly.

“It would be Captain’s honor,” Thor assured him with a wink. And that was that, the others finished dressed and they moved out to the parking lot as a herd, Peter trailing awkwardly along behind Tony towards a sleek, red and gold Audi.

He was hugged and ruffled and treated to a sizable farewell from the others, each of them pointedly telling him not to be a stranger as they piled into their vehicles and drove off in a cloud of muted music and squealing tyres.

When he turned around Tony had slipped over to the car and stood with the passenger door open, stooped into a half bow.

The interior was crisp and clean and smelt like fresh linen when he sank into the seat, tucking his legs in carefully. Tony slid into the driver’s side like he lived to be behind the wheel of a flashy car, slipping on a dark pair of shades and letting his window slide down.

Tony switched radio on to a smooth rock station and Peter let himself relax in the seat, phone still clutched carefully in hand just in case, but thoroughly enjoying the rumble of the car and the way Tony looked behind the wheel.

They didn’t speak much on the way but Peter snuck several glances at the other man, shivering through a bolt of unsteady heat each time Tony caught the motion and tipped his head, smirking at him from behind those shaded lenses.

The apartment building loomed up on them far too soon, signalling the end of a day Peter was confident he’d keep in his memories right up until his last breath.

(And if it tempted him to maybe one day set fire to his kitchen a little bit, well.)

Tony pulled the car to a stop in the parking lot, leaning casually back in his seat. 

“Maybe you should, um, check my apartment?”

It took Peter a moment to realise he was the one who’d spoken, mortified as Tony pushed down his shades to peer at him over the rims with an arched brow.

“To, uh, um…” Peter squirmed on his seat, doing his best not to think about how it was the other man’s clothes he was wearing. “Make sure it’s safe. I mean, I’ve built up a little trust. With you. Who knows if the other guys missed something?”

And what he wouldn’t give for a sinkhole to just swallow him up right then.

But to his surprise Captain Stark just peered at him for another moment, then smiled. “Sure thing, kid. The other’s’d never forgive me anyway if I let you die off in the night.”

With cheeks hot enough to sear a steak, Peter slipped out of the car and practically ran for the building, hyper aware of Tony’s presence beside him as they ascended the steps. God, he was so fucking stupid. Tony was probably going to poke around the apartment a little, open the window then skip on back home and tell his wife all about the strange kid he’d had to babysit all day.

His hands were shaking as he unlocked his door but if the man noticed he said nothing, stepping in behind him and pushing the door gently shut. Peter toed off his boots by the door and turned, watching the man roam the apartment, sniffing here and there and opening the window in the kitchenette.

“Hey, come here,” Tony’s voice called when he was plugging his phone in. Jamming the cord into the device, he bounced out of the room and slid to a halt next to Tony, who held a hand out to steady him. “Do you feel that?”

“What?” Peter asked in confusion, head tilting. 

“Sexual tension,” Tony grinned at him, winking terribly. 

“Wha-- Oh,” Peter rocked back on his heels, cheeks blazing. 

“You’re not subtle, kid. I got ribbed the whole day out over it,” Tony teased him, reaching out to ever so gently tuck one of Peter’s mahogany curls behind his ear.

“Sorry?” Peter tried, fingers curling around the cuffs of his - Tony’s - hoodie.

“I know a way you can make it up to me,” the only man purred, leaning in a little closer. And then all at once he softened, head tilting a little. “Only, of course, if you want to.”

“Aren’t you… Married?” Peter asked hesitantly, even as his heart kicked up a notch and heat gave a lazy spark between his lips. Tony’s brows shot towards his hairline.

“Not since I last checked, no,” Tony answered, sounding terribly amused. “Where did you get that thought?”

And oh, no. The last thing Peter was going to do was tell Tony he thought the man was so attractive it was feasibly impossible for him to not be taken. His ego would get so big he’d float off to space and then where would Peter be?

Instead of answering he shifted, bracing his hands on Tony’s chest and rising onto his tiptoes so he could press a chaste kiss to Tony’s mouth, the man’s stubble tickling the corner of his mouth before he pulled away, shrinking in on himself and rubbing at his lower lip.

Tony blinked down at him for a moment. Then he shifted, leaning down to wrap his hands around Peter’s thigh and hip, lifting him up with a flex of work-honed muscles. Peter clutched at his shoulders, legs automatically wrapping around Tony’s waist.

It was a new kind of novelty; to feel thick, corded muscle beneath his palms, to feel the cut of it between his thighs, to feel the scrape of stubble over his jaw and his mouth. All of Peter’s other partners had been close to his own age and relatively close in terms of build and body.

A few strides had Peter’s back pressed against the wall where he let his head fall back with a thump, mouth falling open on a whine.

“Look at you having your five minutes of bravery,” Tony teased him, shifting one leg so his thigh helped to hold Peter’s weight, fingers flexing against his skin. “What happened to the quiet little kid who burnt up anytime he looked my way?”

Peter had nothing to say, shivering through a hiccupped sound when something thick and hard rode the crease of his thigh and hip, hot between the layers of fabric that separated them. Instead of answering he pawed at the man’s shirt, desperately wanting to see the carved flesh beneath it.

“Okay, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want,” Tony soothed him, adjusting them both before he helped to tug on the fabric, muscles shifting and bunching as he worked it over his head and threw it off somewhere to the side.

“Oh,” Peter choked, setting his palms down on the plane of Tony’s stomach. He was beautiful; tanned skin marred with a smattering of scars that stood out pink and pale. He knew better than to focus on them but he couldn’t help running his thumb over a half-moon scar at the bottom of Tony’s pectoral.

“Emergency field incision,” Tony murmured, nipple peaking at the close touch. “Had to mesh-wall my heart.”

Peter had no words for that, either. In all the fun of the firehouse he’d almost forgotten the reality of such a dangerous job. He ran his thumb gently over it again, as if to kiss it, and tightened his legs to bring Tony into him again.

It made them press together in a delicious, warm friction, Tony’s pupils dilating further when Peter tried to stifle the noise the touch prompted. He was squeezed back into the wall as Tony leaned down, catching his mouth in a slick, gentle kiss. 

“Hey, kid,” Tony murmured against his mouth, leaning back just enough to speak, teeth scraping over his swollen lower lip.

“Hm?” Peter whimpered, trying to tilt his head to reach him again.

“You wanna see why they call me Captain Firehose?”

Peter’s lashes fluttered as he looked up, mouth dropping open for a moment of pure, unadulterated suspense.

“That was awful,” he groaned with a giggle, tickled by the cheesy line and rendered pink-cheeked by the soft, fond look at Tony fixed him with.

“Made you smile, though,” Tony purred, adjusting his hold as he ducked down to press a kiss to Peter’s cheek, lips trailing over the warm skin before he pulled back and away, muscles flexing as he held Peter up without the support of the wall.

Blushing harder, Peter wound his arms around the man’s neck. “Okay, Captain. Show me how to handle your hose,” he whispered, yelping and laughing when Tony spun them around towards the bedroom with a grin.

#sie fics #fanfic #fanfiction #starker #ironspider #starker fanfiction #ironspider fanfiction #starker fanfic #ironspider fanfic #tony stark/peter parker #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker/tony stark #peter parker x tony stark #alternate universe #starker alternate universe #starker: alternate universe #starker: alternative universe #starker: alternate meeting #firefighters #firefighter au #first kiss #getting together #strangers to lovers #strangers to friends to lovers #grinding #hopeful ending

[fific7]

Cold Day in Hell - Part 3

Logan Delos x Reader

A/N: This does not completely follow canon, it’s mainly lemon zest 🍋 because the world needs more Logan Delos. (Song mentioned is ‘I Knew You Were Trouble’ by Taylor Swift)

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

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(My GIF)

You lifted Logan’s arm off you and scooted out of the bed at the speed of light, and stood beside it looking down at him. He, meanwhile, had stretched himself out like a big cat right across the bed and was grinning lazily up at you.

“Awww, sweetheart - you spoiled my fun!”

Turning on your heel, saying nothing, you headed to the bathroom and locked the door. You hopped into the shower, praying that he’d have taken the hint and left by the time you emerged. Taking your time, you blow-dried your hair a little and smoothed on the expensive, famous brand body lotion provided by the hotel. Wrapping yourself in one of the hotel’s fluffy bathrobes and picking up your clothes, you cautiously opened the bathroom door and walked into the room.

Logan was still on the bed. In fact, he was now in the bed and had pulled the covers over himself up to his waist, his clothes in a pile on the floor. All of his clothes.

His head turned towards you, his eyes meeting yours and he folded his arms across his bare chest. “You’ve been ages in there, sweetheart. And I needta use the restroom so badly!” He dramatically threw back the bedcovers and you turned away like a flash, squeezing your eyes closed before you got an eyeful.

You felt soft huffs of breath on your neck and Logan whispered, “Oh good, you’re naked too. Well, underneath that robe you are.” You felt long fingers slowly moving the neckline of your robe aside and you clutched at the fabric, pulling it tightly closed. “Logan…. will you please just fuck off!” The fingers left your robe and you heard a deep chuckle, “I’ll only be a few minutes, darlin’, then we can continue this conversation back in bed.”

A thought quickly whizzed through your brain that you’d just told your company’s biggest client to fuck off, but really - he was too much.

The second you heard the bathroom door close, you raced to the wardrobe and pulled out the skirt and blouse you’d decided to wear that day. Grabbing your lingerie, you got dressed in record time and were just doing up the last of your blouse buttons when you heard the door opening again, and quickly shut your eyes again in anticipation of a naked Logan appearing in front of you.

“Ohh, really? You got dressed? It’s too early for that, sweetheart - it’s only 5 am. Take ‘em off and we’ll go back to bed,” you heard, his voice seductive. “Absolutely not, Logan,” you snapped back, “and put your damn clothes back on!”

He gave an exaggerated sigh, “Oh my, you are absolutely no fun at all!” Trying to move away from him, eyes still closed, you came in contact with a toned torso and leapt back from him as if you’d been burned. You banged into the table behind you and a pair of arms instantly went round you. “Careful, angel.” You tried to shove away from him and made the mistake of opening your eyes. Logan tightened his hold on you and his dark espresso eyes were gazing into yours. You didn’t look down but he was pressing his very healthy erection against your lower abdomen and he leant in towards you, lips millimetres away from yours.

Suddenly, you realised you’d parted your lips slightly in anticipation of him kissing you. But he released you, turning quickly away (you trying not to look at that tight ass, really trying) and heading back to his clothes pile. He grabbed them up and headed into the bathroom, saying over his shoulder, “Don’t mind if I use your shower, angel, do you?” The door closed behind him.

Relieved, you thought, ‘Well, I think I managed to handle that okay. Didn’t I?” You weren’t absolutely sure that you had, but whatever.

You settled back in one of the chairs and switched on the TV. Busy channel-hopping to find something worth your attention, you suddenly heard a loud guttural moan issuing forth from the man in the bathroom.

Okayyyy, well… that sounded like he’d managed to handle it himself.

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Logan was under the shower, vigorously soaping his body and humming a tune as he did so. It didn’t take too long for his hand to stray down onto his erection and he began stroking. Soon, he leant back against the tiled shower wall as he increased his pace, firmly pulling and squeezing his length before he came with a loud groan. Hope she heard that, he grinned to himself.

The first part of his plan hadn’t gone too badly. He’d got a lot closer to her already but this was him just getting into his stride. He was well aware he had to be careful not to overstep, but… he’d seen the way her lips had parted when she thought he was going to kiss her, so he was going to continue tiptoeing up to the line before stepping quickly back. He had a gut feeling that was the way to go.

He’d make her beg him for it before he was finished.

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As you gathered up your spare handouts and the rest of your stuff at the end of the first investor meeting, you had to admit that you and Logan had worked extremely well together. Neither of you had rehearsed how to approach the meetings past what information you were going to cover, but you’d ended up being a bit of a double act. In fact the two of you had received a round of applause at the end of it.

Logan strolled round the conference table to stand next to you and looking up at him, yet again his sheer magnetism made you catch your breath. You looked down quickly, packing the remaining folders away into your document bag. “That went really well, you were fabulous.” “Thanks Logan, so were you.” As you met his gaze again, he smirked, “Well, I keep trying to show you just how fabulous I am, but you keep shutting me down.”

You opened your mouth to reply but he said quickly, “Just have dinner with me.”

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Logan was feeling very happy with himself. She’d agreed to have dinner with him albeit reluctantly, and he was back in the shower, working shampoo through his hair before rinsing it out and enthusiastically shaking his head to and fro. He started singing “I Knew You Were Trouble”, lovingly stroking and winking at his resting manhood before pouring a generous amount of shower gel into his hand and rubbing it over his body.

Strings pulled, he’d managed to get a table at SkyCity, and he had a really good feeling about tonight. Once she saw the view from the top of the Space Needle and had sipped a few glasses of premium champagne, surely he could charm her into his bed? With a confident spring in his step, he dried himself with one of the big fluffy towels, still singing.

“'𝒞𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃

𝒮𝑜 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓌

𝐹𝓁𝑒𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈 𝐼'𝒹 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃

'𝒯𝒾𝓁 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓅𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃, 𝑜𝒽

𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃

𝒮𝑜 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝑒 𝓃𝑜𝓌

𝐹𝓁𝑒𝓌 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈 𝐼'𝒹 𝓃𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃

𝒩𝑜𝓌 𝐼'𝓂 𝓁𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹

𝒪𝒽, 𝑜𝒽, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒

𝒪𝒽, 𝑜𝒽, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒, 𝓉𝓇𝑜𝓊𝒷𝓁𝑒”

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Laying back in the bath, you swirled your fingers through the fragrant foam on the water’s surface and wondered how long it would take Logan to make his move. Because you knew, as night follows day, that he would hit on you tonight. You weren’t fooled by his earlier tease of almost kissing you. Even if - annoyingly - you knew you would have given in to it if he had. You guessed he’d probably try that approach again to entrap you. Picking up a big handful of foam, you blew it off your palm into the air and groaned.

The handsome big devil! Why did he always have to look so fucking hot?!

Another groan left your lips. You were going to have to firstly be on your guard big time, and secondly - and more importantly - stay in control of your own damn self!

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The view was spectacular. The meal was delicious, the champagne flowed and so did the conversation between the two of you. You ended up telling him way more than you’d originally meant to, how you’d had to fight your parents every step of the way to study your chosen subject - they wanted you to be a doctor or a lawyer and had eventually refused to contribute anything towards your education fees. How you still had a slightly frosty relationship with them, especially as your younger brother had gone on to become a doctor and therefore - irrespective of the fact that you’d earned many awards within your field and your salary was double what he made - little brother was perfection personified as far as your parents were concerned.

Logan had snorted as he’d sipped his champagne when you’d said that, and went on to tell you some choice items about James, ‘Daddy Dearest’ as he called him. How he and Juliet had eventually forced him into retirement, and he’d also made some cryptic comments about his ex brother-in-law and something which had happened in Westworld. He’d quickly changed the subject and recounted various other exploits of his while there, eyes sparkling with mischievousness as he mentioned heists and orgies. And the hosts. He told you all about the hosts.

“Sounds like you spend a lot of time with them, Logan,” you commented, strangely jealous of these robots for some reason. He shrugged, “That’s what they’re there for,” smiling at you, “no strings, y’know? No consequences.” You sat back in your chair, “And I guess that appeals to you? Like, a lot.” Logan crossed one long leg over another and also relaxed back in his chair, “I never lie, so the answer’s yes. Yeah, it did. No hassle whatsoever, what’s not to like?” His gaze locked in on you, “Until now, that is.”

You met his eyes, “And what’s different now?” “Maybe I want some strings. A little hassle, some consequences.” Laughing, you sipped your drink, “Really? I’m not sure you do.” He leant forward, “But I do, sweetheart. Because I want you.” You’d just taken another drink and nearly choked as you burst out laughing, “Oh Logan. No…. you don’t want me, you just want a quick fuck. And I’m not up for that in case you hadn’t noticed.” Logan looked offended for a second, then his usual confident look reappeared on his face. “How do you know what I want? If I wasn’t serious, why am I hanging around doing my best to win you over? I’ll be honest with you, I don’t usually need to try too hard, if at all.”

You burst out laughing, “Exactly my point! This is a novelty for you, that’s all. You’ll soon tire of it when you don’t get anywhere and then off you’ll go to an easier lay.” He shook his head, “No, that’s not the case. And who says I won’t get anywhere? Once I set my heart on something, I’ll go all out till I get it. And right now, that means you, angel.” “I’m not a commodity, Logan! I’m not something to acquire and then move quickly on from.” A lazy smile graced his lips, “Oh I know you’re not, sweetheart, believe me. That’s my point. I’m not about to move on.”

You looked across at him sceptically, “Uh-huh. Sure you’re not, Logan.” He leant back in his chair once more, a seductive smile on his face and dark eyes boring into yours, “Okay, let me ask you something. Do you think I’m hot?” Hesitating, you stalled by picking up your glass but his hand landed on yours, stopping you from raising it to your lips. “Nah, no drinking till you answer me.” He says he never lies, you thought, and I don’t think he does so I’ll return the favour. “Okay… yes, I think you’re hot.” He nodded, looking too smug for your liking so you carried on, “But in saying that, I wouldn’t get involved with you because of your rep.”

He nodded once more, a little disappointment now evident, “Yeah, don’t worry! - I definitely got that vibe. But leaving that aside, if you didn’t know all about me and my rep, answer me this. Would you have slept with me if we’d gone out on a date?” You could feel your face heating up and giving you away, so you admitted, “Yes, I would have. You’re hot, Logan, like I said.”

A big grin on his face, he picked up his glass and held it out so you’d clink yours with his. “That’s all I wanted to hear, sweetheart. I’ve got something to work with now.”

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Back at the hotel, Logan walked you to your room and as you stopped outside your door, thanking him for a lovely evening, he suddenly slid a hand around the back of your neck and pulled you towards him. His mouth found yours and he kissed you, lazily, sensually. You felt yourself melting into it, you couldn’t help it. My god does he know how to kiss, screamed your brain.

His lips left yours and you heard him whisper next to your ear, “I’ll show you that I can be different, that I’m not an asshole.” Your hand was on his chest and you could feel his rapid heartbeat. Your own was mirroring it, and you almost caved right there and then.

He stepped back from you, a finger trailing along your jaw, “Sweet dreams, angel. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You watched him walk down the corridor to his own room, and knew you were feeling nothing but regret.

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Logan flicked on the TV with the remote and lay back on his pillows, naked, lifting his glass of whiskey and sipping. He was slowly but surely knocking down those walls of hers, he could tell. He’d felt it when he kissed her, she’d relaxed against him and slid her hands onto his neck and chest.

He was really surprising himself, if he was being honest. Never would he have hung on this long before if someone wouldn’t put out. He supposed that was one big disadvantage of fucking all those hosts, they never said no. And let’s be truthful, in real life people didn’t say no to him either. So he’d never really had to handle rejection before (apart from in his relationship with his darling father of course, but that was a whole other story). He sipped again; perhaps this was why he’d fallen for this new, intriguing, beautiful woman. She told him ‘No’, she wasn’t interested in his status, his money or what she could gain from him either in self-publicity or luxurious celebrity lifestyle.

And that was refreshing. Very refreshing. He was going to carry on with his battle plan, he would not give up until he’d won this woman, this prize. And no, he wasn’t regarding her as an object to be won, like a huge teddy bear in a carnival sideshow. They’d spent a fantastic evening together and he was feeling more and more of a connection with her. He sensed that she had the power to make his life better, to care for him, to bring meaning to his existence. Which scared the fucking crap out of him but it was what it was. He couldn’t stop himself feeling that way, so he’d just go with the flow and see what happened.

He was getting hard thinking about her and his hand slid down onto his cock. ‘Mmm, yeah, a little attention’s required here’, he thought to himself. He began working himself, stroking and squeezing, and soon he was scrabbling for a tissue from the box next to him on the bedside table. He bunched it up around the head of his cock and not a moment too soon. With a loud groan, he came almost immediately into it, expertly catching all of his come in the tissue cocoon he’d created. He wiped the tip and then the rest of his length and screwed up the damp tissue, tossing it into the nearest bin before sighing and relaxing back on his pillows again.

That… helped, but it didn’t satisfy him. Not properly. He needed her for that.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Lying awake, your mind was dwelling entirely on what you could have been doing if you’d invited Logan into your room, as you’d so nearly done. A vision of him on top of you, your legs wrapped round his hips. Or you on top of him, riding him like a pony. His hands on your hips, thrusting up into you, his face flushed and contorted with passion.

You shot up in bed. Okay, you were going to have to stop your brain from thinking. Not even wanting to touch yourself, you knew that wouldn’t do it for you when all you desired was Logan. Him. And that body of his.

A drink? Should you have a drink? It might help calm your restlessness. But to be honest, no - you knew it wouldn’t. There was only one thing which you knew would definitely help.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Logan was half-asleep, beginning to drift off into dreams of what he’d like to do to her if he ever got her into his bed. Dream Logan had just begun to lick her nipples when there was a knock at the door. What? Another knock, louder this time. He groggily realised that there was actually someone knocking and got up, grabbing his bathrobe from a chair and shrugging into it as he went to the door and opened it.

It was her. His dream woman. But in reality. Also dressed in a bathrobe and looking at him like he was an oasis in the desert.

She brushed past him and walked in, closing and locking the door behind her. Logan was truly dumbfounded by this turn of events. She stopped in front of him, untying the belt of his bathrobe a little, before lightly placing her hands on his chest. She gazed up into his wide and amazed eyes, playing with the hairs in between his pecs and running her fingers even further down to his money trail. His stomach muscles tensed involuntarily and then she was pushing him backwards, and when he reached the bed she shoved him hard.

Logan fell backwards onto it when the back of his knees hit the mattress, his feet still on the floor, longs legs bent, propping himself up on his elbows and looking at her in amazement. She reached for the belt of his robe again, kneeling down between his legs as she did so and his lips parted, his breath catching. Was she… was she really going to…? The belt fell loose and his robe fell open. She gazed with desire and appreciation at Logan’s erect length, then her fingers were on his tip. His hips jolted upwards and she began squeezing him and stroking her fingers round it, and he saw precum beginning to trickle out as he lay there watching her take him in hand. She gave him a sudden and extra firm squeeze while her other hand took hold of his balls and he yelped, like a damn dog.

Logan couldn’t believe he’d lost control of this situation, but it seemed that he absolutely had. He opened his mouth to speak, but she immediately put a finger to his lips.

“Not a word, Delos. Not one. Single. Fucking. Word.”

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(Not my GIF - credit to owner)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@obscurilicious @theshadowkingsqueen

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#logan delos #logan delos x reader #ben barnes #logan delos fan fiction #logan delos imagine #logan delos fanfic

[rulerofstars]

detergent

you were left alone with laundry duties. prompt from this list. 

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

genre: modern au. fluff.

warnings: swearing.

word count: 1,003 words.

The sound of a machine always startles you, especially when the timer of your manual laundry machine goes off. Hanji, your roommate slash best friend who left hours ago, being the person they are, begged you to wash “some” of their clothes as they would have to do their plates. And who were you to decline? A “few shirts” and a piece of shorts would not hurt. Yep, not at all. . .

Fuck it.

Your nose is now filled with the clean and mild scent of your detergent, it was the smell of cottons and babies. Babies smell nice, you thought as you put Hanji’s clothes inside of the machine for the THIRD time. You were scammed, you could not believe it, they had a TON of clothing. A mental note to smack Hanji the moment they get home is already pinned at the back of your head.

This was supposed to be a one-hour chore, and your phone broke so you couldn’t even listen to some music, damn it.

After hearing the door close, you immediately spoke, assuming that the person who went in was your best friend.

“Hanji, I swear to God, you should buy me dinner because of this.” You shouted from the bathroom. You can’t even get up, your clothes are soaked in the front, hair is a mess, and sweat trickled down every part of your body. You were sure that you look nasty as fuck as you continuously squeeze some of the water out of the fabric that you are holding.

A chuckle echoed from across the room. The voice was too deep, it couldn’t be Hanji, you thought.

“Busy day, hm?”

In a blink of an eye, your head snapped up and saw Levi. He’s Hanji’s blockmate in the University, and you guys have met through them, and so you became good friends, too. He had spent a generous amount of time in your apartment for the past few days because of their group plates, together with Erwin. But they had to do it at him and Erwin’s dorm right now because apparently, they are too tired to witness the mess around yours and Hanji’s place. Yes, the audacity. But you really did not mind.

Architecture majors. You sigh.  

And now you are wondering why he’s here. And you are guessing that your best friend had left something and they ordered Levi to get ‘em.

Wrong. No one could ever boss this man around, except for Erwin.

“Why are you here?” You got back to your chore and wait for his answer. A few more left.

He cleared his throat, “Your detergent smells nice.”

You bit your lip, feeling the flattery linger above your head and tickle your stomach like crazy. That was one hell of a compliment, especially if it comes from this man.

“Thanks,” You replied, not looking back, you did not want him to see how silly your appearance is right now.

“What’s that brand?” He asks, again. The question did confuse you in some way, since you are using one which is really common in the market. And doesn’t he use the same one? You knew because him and Erwin. . . their clothes smell the same!

You looked at him, “You use the same brand, ask Erwin.”

Levi smirked, you swore you barely see him lift the corner of his lips that when you do, you would question if it s already the end of the world.

“It smells better when you are the one using it.”

For a good thirty seconds, the only sound that you could hear is the whirling of water from the washing machine, and the machine itself. Oh, and your crazy heartbeat, too.

“Are you flirting with me?”

He scoffed at you, finally getting inside the bathroom and sitting at the edge of the tub, “You finally noticed?”

You bit the inside of your cheeks to stop yourself from grinning.

“Don’t do that, you look cute.”

You really want to smack him across the face right now. Your cheeks are burning up! Seriously, the warmth that rushed up your face was overwhelming you. How could he do this without being. . . skittish.

“You’re fidgety when you are shy.”

“Shut up, you did this to me.”

The fizz of soap from your hands cascaded along with the water as you wash your hands on the sink, finally done with all the washing. You only have to throw this last set on the dryer and hang it and you are finally done.

You sat next to Levi, smelling the detergent with a mix of his cologne radiating from his shirt. You rolled your eyes.

“Why are you here?” You asked, grabbing a clean cloth and wiping your sweat-drenched face and neck.

“I’m here for two things,” he paused for a while, you swore you saw a hint of redness on his ears, God he’s cute. “We finished early so I’m asking you out for tea.”

Time stopped. You got lost in his eyes for a second. Me, going out. . . with Levi fucking Ackerman of the colllege of Architecture.

Who could blame you? He’s a university heartthrob, he’s handsome, he’s smart, he is everything that a woman could ever asked for.

“Oh, o-okay. Let me just, fix myself.” You stood up, still kind of in trance. Levi finds you cute. Innocent, kind of funny, kind, totally his type. Plus, you smell really nice, too. “What’s the other one, by the way?” You asked, getting a towel from your cabinet because you intend to take a shower.

You saw him leave the bathroom and go towards your small, messy living room, probably took the cue that you’d use the shower.

“Hanji told me to tell you that the ones in their laundry basket are clean and that the clothes on their bed,” His head appeared from the doorway, a hint of amusement is evident in his silver-blue eyes, “Are the ones that you should wash.”

OH.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi x reader #levi x you #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot #snk #rulerofstars

[seat-safety-switch]

It stood to reason that with enough exposure to ads, humanity would eventually tune out. Advertisers tried to keep up and evolved like the viruses they were. They escaped into the internet, stuffing a twenty-minute-long video about restoring a Tonka truck with no fewer than eight ads. Then, once even that stopped working, they turned to the Influencers. At first, those folks were human beings, just like you and me. And once they failed to elicit the correct response, the corporations shook up their biotechnology divisions and started a nightmare project: birthing perfect brand representatives in every way. I'm a spam hunter; it's my job to kill those new people.

I don't really ask questions of the higher-ups about why I do what I do. I guess I just fell into the job. As far back as I can remember, they'd been asking me to take out someone who got just a little bit too inorganic in their endorsement of novelty shower curtains. Instinct wasn't enough, too: you had to be sure. There was a test.

On the first generation, that test was quick to fail. You'd ask them a couple questions about an authentic human experience: first loves, a favourite neighbourhood bakery, the stock market in France. Then you would sit back, and just let them talk. Within five minutes or less, they'd loop the same hokey pre-programmed story into a plug for wireless earbuds or thigh-shaping underwear, and that's when the banhammer came out. Easy money. Then the advertisers adapted, again.

Now they can sink a million product placements into an ordinary observation, like you're watching some sort of turn-of-the-century soap opera. Really subtle-like. Fooled a lot of the other guys, made them sweat. Not me, though, because I keep my armpits clean with Arm & Hammer Android Deodorant: the perfect chemical slurry to use for those pesky robots. Anyway, as I was saying, advertisers: total scum, can't trust 'em. I got this job to go down south...

[hellerism]

(Regarding your jewelry post earlier) in secret good supernatural demon dean gets an ear piercing and dean gets it redone after Michael lets it close

im sorry this took so long to answer but i was inspired and ended up writing 1.2k about deans bodily autonomy as related to his earrings

---

Jimmy Novak had once described angel possession as like being chained to a comet.

With all due respect to Jimmy, Dean disagreed.

Maybe it had been like that with Castiel, who—incredible as he was—had only been a regular angel at that point. But being possessed by Michael, first and most powerful of the archangels, the leader of the Host of Heaven, was like being at the center of a perpetual supernova. Dean was exhausted from the strain, weary down to his bones. Deeper than that, even; his very atoms burned with exhaustion.

Worse than that, though, was the way he’d been trapped in his own body. Michael had kept Dean as a prisoner in his own mind, filling out his limbs with a strange presence, dressing him in clothes he hated, torturing with Dean’s hands. Killing with Dean’s hands. He’d thrashed against Michael in his head, clawed at his prison until his metaphorical fingers bled, but he was powerless against him. All he could do was watch.

Now, even with Michael gone, Dean still felt the ghost of his grace running through him, angry and burning and utterly wrong, nothing like the gentle warmth of Cas’ grace he felt whenever Cas healed him.

He stood at the mirror in the bunker’s bathroom. He’d taken a long shower and changed into familiar clothes, but the feeling of Michael still lingered. He examined his appearance in the mirror, ran his finger over the tiny scars on his earlobes where Michael had let his earring holes close. Earrings were, apparently, not Michael’s style; one of the first things he’d done after he escaped that church with Dean’s body was yank them out and throw them away.

It was a tiny thing, really, in the scheme of things, but right now, looking at his bare ears, something in his chest curled inward.

See, he’d wanted earrings growing up, wanted to look like the pretty boys in the magazines scattered around motel lobbies. But John, of course, would allow no such thing. As he got older, Dean reasoned to himself that earrings would just get in the way of hunting. Some monster would rip them out during a fight, and then he’d have to deal with injured ears on top of everything else. So he told himself.

When he’d been turned into a demon, on the other hand, free of those pesky human inhibitions, he’d walked into the nearest tattoo parlor the day after Crowley whisked him away from the bunker and left an hour later with his ears pierced. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a simple black stud in either ear.

Months later, when he was back in the bunker and once again human, after he’d shaved his face and trimmed his hair and started to feel like himself again, he couldn’t bring himself to take out the earrings. When was the last time he’d done something like this for himself? He liked how he looked with them in. They looked good. He looked good. Throwing them away would be a waste of a perfectly good pair of earrings, anyway. Honestly, it just made sense to keep them in.

The next morning, he’d walked into the kitchen to find Sam and Cas at the table eating breakfast. Well, Sam was eating, at least; Cas was absorbed in some book Dean didn’t recognize. They both looked up as he walked in.

“Morning. I made pancakes,” Sam said, gesturing to the platter in the middle of the table. “You feeling okay?”

“Never better,” Dean said. He almost hoped that Sam wouldn’t mention the earrings and just let him get his pancakes in peace, but then Sam’s eyes flicked to his ears.

“Those are new. You keeping them?” There was no judgment in his voice, just genuine curiosity.

Still, Dean had flooded with self-consciousness, struggling not to think of John. His hand went to his ear, his finger playing with the backing. “I mean. I don’t hate ‘em. Just seemed easier to leave ‘em in. For now.”

“They look good,” Sam assured him, and gave him a little smile, then returned to his pancakes.

Dean grabbed a plate and slid into the seat next to Cas at the table, piling pancakes onto it. As he reached for the syrup, he caught Cas staring at him.

“What?” Dean asked after a few seconds, his face growing hot, but neither of them looked away.

“Piercings suit you,” Cas had said finally, and then returned to his book.

Dean had flushed red to the tips of his ears. He finally turned away to see Sam smirking, and he had to resist the urge to tell him to shut up, grateful at least that neither of them were making a big deal of it.

So it became a normal thing, Dean wearing earrings. He bought a few different pairs of studs over the years—a gold set, a silver one, ones inlaid with tiny blue gems, but mostly he stuck to the black ones.

He loved how he looked in them. He loved the compliments he got, from both men and women. And every day that he wore them, the voice of his father in his head, the source of his shame, grew smaller and quieter.

But Michael hadn’t cared about that. Michael cared about how useful he could be as his vessel, as his sword. The Michael Sword.

Dean couldn’t stand his reflection anymore. He stormed out of the bathroom and down the hall to his room and rummaged around until he found his first aid kit, a brand-new sewing needle, and a lighter. He yanked open his nightstand drawer and paused as he looked over his few pairs of earrings. His favorites—the first pair of black studs—were long gone, thanks to Michael. So instead, he settled on a pair of small gold hoops that Claire had given him last Christmas.

She’d tried to pass it off like it was no big deal, tossing him the wrapped package and muttering something about how he couldn’t keep wearing those lame studs forever, but Dean invented that move. He knew what it had meant to her to give him something, and he treasured the earrings for that. Still, he hadn’t worn them yet. Hoops were less practical than studs; with his luck, they were bound to snag on something during a hunt, and he didn’t want to risk losing them.

But caution be damned. He was going to do this for himself. The monsters would simply have to work around him this time.

Back in the bathroom, he flicked open his lighter and held the needle over the flame to sterilize it, then wiped it clean with rubbing alcohol from the first aid kit. It occurred vaguely to him that he might want to go to a professional for this, like the first time, but he couldn’t wait that long. Besides, he could do this. He’d seen movies.

He braced his ear with an unused bar of soap, took a deep breath, and stuck the needle through his earlobe, wincing slightly at the pinch. He removed it and quickly stuck in one gold hoop, then repeated the process on the other side.

It was done in less than two minutes. Dean studied his reflection in the mirror and poked gently at the hoops, and for the first time since Michael had inexplicably left him, a real smile spread over his face.

It felt right. He looked right. He looked like Dean again. He could still feel the remnants of Michael’s grace in his veins, but it was Dean’s body. He was taking it back again, starting with a pair of gold hoop earrings.

#my first spn fic since the renaissance and im proud of it tbh #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #ive never pierced my own ears i got that from wikihow i hope its accurate #ask

[thewritewolf]

Adventure to the Heart Chapter 13: Family

First | Previous | Next | Last

@adrinetteapril

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

“That… can’t be right.” Nino stared at the game mat with disbelieving eyes before glancing at Alya and Max. “Right?”

“Wake up and smell the well-perfumed treachery, babe!” Alya threw her arms over her head. “I knew those nobles were trouble and the proof is right here in front of us!”

“I mean, yeah… but come on, just cuz there’s a stockpile of their swag in the bandit den doesn’t mean they’re in cahoots with ‘em, right?”

“While admittedly there is a non-zero chance that you are correct,” Max said, pushing his glasses up his nose, “a variety of other circumstantial evidence has been accruing against them for some time.”

“Okay,” Adrien said, rubbing his temples. “What are the odds we can actually bring them to justice with this stuff?”

Max frowned. “That may very well be a matter for the dice to decide. As I mentioned, the bulk of our evidence is circumstantial and our strongest smoking gun, if you’ll excuse the turn of phrase, is this pile of trade goods found in the brigand stronghold.”

“Which they can just say was stolen from them.” Alya slumped in her chair. “They really thought this out, huh?” Alya narrowed her eyes at Marinette, but a smirk was playing at her lips. “Or at least, someone thought this out.”

“Well, you guys will have plenty of time to figure it out,” Marinette said looking pointedly at the clock. “A week, as a matter of fact. Next session you can decide what you’re going to do about all this.”

“Shoot, already time to leave?” Alya glanced at her phone and sharply sucked in a breath. “Dang, yeah its almost time for dinner.” She looked over to Nino. “Are you still planning on coming over?”

Adrien went along with them as they made their way downstairs, talking about their plans - some in the game, but most just about dinner. As they got to the door, Adrien was checking his phone but there was no text from the Gorilla just yet - not even his usual one word text of ‘Here’. Anxiety was building as the other three left out the front door one by one.

Marinette gave him an odd look when he hesitated at the door. “Is something wrong?”

“Well,” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck, “its just that my ride isn’t here yet and, well…”

“Oh, that’s okay!” Marinette said it with a grin, but Adrien could see the hint of panic lurking just behind her eyes. He understood the feeling - after a long day, sometimes all you wanted to do was collapse in your room and decompress. “You can hang out here for a little while if you want!”

“That’s the thing. It might be an hour or two since the Gorilla is watching his Spanish soap operas right now.”

“...What?”

Adrien shrugged. “Its the one thing that he always makes time for. Even my father can’t reach him when they are on.”

“I… see.” Marinette furrowed her brow. “Well you could… um… you could have dinner with me?” Her eyes flew open wide. “I mean! You could eat here! With my family and food and very tasty and-”

“You mean it?” Adrien asked, wide eyed. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten to eat at someone’s house before. Well,” he quickly amended, “except for at Chloe’s but that’s basically just going to a restaurant anyway. Room service,” he added, when she shot him a confused look.”

“I promise, the food we have here is served with love,” Marinette said with a smile. A smile which quickly vanished in panic. “Not that I love you or anything! Well I do but like a friend I love, you know? Friendly love, that’s me!”

Adrien laughed - he couldn’t help it. “Thanks, Marinette. If it isn’t too much to ask, then yeah I’d be happy to have dinner with you and your family.”

Marinette relaxed a little and turned around - no doubt to go talk to her parents about it - when he added, with a playful smile:

“And for what its worth - I love you too!”

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

Later that night, after having an amazing dinner with a warm family, Adrien stepped into the cavernous entry room of his home. To his immense surprise, someone was waiting for him there.

“You’ll be going to New York for next week,” Gabriel said as a matter of fact. “Arrangements will be made with your school during that time, but your presence will be vital for establishing our brand in America.”

Warm food and bright laughter seemed like a distant memory as a cold pit opened up in his stomach.

“But father-”

Gabriel held up his hand and closed his eyes. “No arguments.”

He walked away, leaving Adrien to drag his feet back to his room. Missing out on a week with his friends was bad enough, but this would be the first session that he had ever missed. They had become his favorite part of the week, a time when he could be someone else and goof around with friends.

Was this part of his father’s plan? Was he going to try to take this away from him too?

The only thing Adrien knew for sure was that if he fought this here and now, it would only give his father an excuse to take it away from him. For now, he’d have to go along with it.

And hope that this wouldn’t be the beginning of the end for his dungeons and dragons adventure.

#Miraculous Ladybug #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Adrien Agreste #Adrienette #Nino Lahiffe #Alya Cesaire #Max Kante #Dungeons and Dragons #AdrinetteApril2021 #ml fanfiction #my writing #Adventure to the Heart

[goldencorecrunches]

(More LanLan rural vet AU) -- It had been a great idea.

"Look at it this way, at least you'll know we've gotten most of them," Luo Qingyang, their tiny clinic's only full-time nurse, told him. She was visibly trying to keep a straight face. Song Lan glared at her. He couldn't reply with words, because his hands were full of squirming, six-week old puppies. Also his arms, and his shoulders, and from the German Shepherd tugging at his scrub pants, soon his lap as well. 

Song Lan had known, moving from the city to the rural countryside, that there would be some measure of culture shock. When one of the farmers had casually dropped that he didn't vaccinate his puppies, because there were, according to him, "Too many of 'em too fast to bother driving 'em out all that way, before you showed up," he had nearly broken his strict policy of sobriety during work hours.

"They're all going to die of distemper," he had told Wen Qing after the man had left, vaguely aware he was making his Strict Veterinarian Face (it was Lan Xichen who had given it a name, which made Song Lan warm all over, on top of the flush from anger) from the way his temples had started aching. "They're not even on heartworm medication. I'm surprised so many of them survive to get killed by the combine harvester." "Just 'combine,' you sound like you're city folk," Wen Qing had said, ignoring Song Lan's mouthed protestation that he was, which was why he was used to people who kept Lucky and Xiao mi's shots up to date. "Look, these people-- they don't have time, and they don't have money. They're going to focus on the livestock animals they need to keep themselves afloat. It's not cruelly meant. They're doing the best they can." "I know that," Song Lan said, somewhat abashed. He peeled his gloves into the bin by the sink and set about washing his hands as he thought. As always, he had to hunch over the sink, built for a much shorter DVM. Wen Qing's girlfriend had sent her some kind of fancy floral soap, and Wen Qing had delighted in placing it in both exam rooms and the surgery. It was a bit stronger to the nose that Song Lan would've preferred, but he wasn't going to argue with Wen Qing when it came to her girlfriend. The antiseptic covered it up, anyway. "What about a vaccination fair? Or just a day," he said when he had finished drying off. "We used to do them at my old clinic. Bring in your pets, get them up to date. Pass out flyers about common infections. Gets the kids involved, too." "Hm," Wen Qing had said. She'd begun gathering up the used sterile packaging and dumping it in the trash, neatly detouring the needles to the sharps container. "That's certainly an idea." She'd argued him down from all pets to just dogs, and had him separate out areas based on the weeks since puppy birth, to for the older dogs the year or the five-year mark. Song Lan had thought it overly complicated-- he could just ask the humans involved as they came up-- but had acquiesced so as not to cause trouble. He was still learning how to fit in, here. Country folk were a lot more standoffish than city folk, for all they were initially nicer. 

He was very glad now that he'd listened.

"You look busy," said a cheerful voice from behind him. Song Lan finished administering the Bordetella shot to the Border Collie mix Luo Qingyang was holding, giving the pup a scratch behind the ears and juggling the bag of chicken jerky underneath his armpit to keep the mutt-who-definitely-had-Bulldog-in-there-somewhere who was crawling across his shoulders from snatching an unearned reward. He turned, stumbling as the German Shepherd shoved her nose enthusiastically into his muddy shoe laces, and tried to keep his scowl affixed for Lan Xichen's teasing. It was a pointless endeavor; as soon as he caught sight of Lan Xichen's face, glowing in the midday heat, he could feel his mouth pulling up at the corner. He occupied himself boosting the puppy under his left arm higher, propping his waggling tail on his hipbone, to keep his own dopey smile to a minimum. "Shh," he told the puppy, when he yipped and started trying to eat Song Lan's scrubs. The puppy looked up, top canine caught in the loop the brand name tag had once hung from, before Song Lan had cut it off. He was not helping the dopiness meter. "Mister Lan!" Luo Qingyang said, handing the Collie mix back to a child with worried arms outstretched (the dog, unperturbed, began licking every freckle on the child's face). "I'm glad you were able to make it! You brought us-- oh, you didn't have to, put that down. Here, you take this one." She plucked the heavy, stainless-steel carafe from his hand and replaced it with a black-and-tan puppy she summoned from nowhere. Automatically Lan Xichen brought his other hand up to support the puppy's hind legs. The puppy sniffed the pens in the crisply ironed breast pocket and did not find them suitable. Song Lan realized he'd been staring and shuffled his furry passengers away from the jerky again.

"I didn't think to make it cold. It's a warm day, I hope it won't be too hot for you," Lan Xichen was saying, apologetic. The edge of the shadow from the extremely garishly striped outdoor tent Song Lan and Wen Ning had set up cut him right across his handsome face, one eye in the shade, the other squinting into the sunlight. As a teenager, Song Lan had had a movie poster where the actor was highlighted in similar fashion. He had hung the poster on the ceiling above his bed. This is not the time for this was becoming a common repetition in Song Lan's inner monologue when it came to Lan Xichen. "If it has caffeine in it, we'll love you whatever temperature it is," Luo Qingyang assured him, passing Lan Xichen another puppy; nearly identical to the first, but with one black ear instead of two. "This is his sister, they're getting their ten week vaccinations. A bit late, but don't tell their mother that. Do you know how to hold them?" "I'm not entirely useless," Lan Xichen said dryly. He smiled at Song Lan. Song Lan nearly tripped over the German Shepherd again. "Ten weeks, that's...Influenza, Bordetella, Lyme…." "DHAPP," Luo Qingyang confirmed, ponytail bouncing as she nodded. "I'm going over to help Wen Qing with the older dogs, you stay and hold puppies for Doctor Song, yeah?" She patted the male puppy on the head, blew a kiss to the female, and leapt over the barricade of folding chairs to rush to the other side of the tent. A queue was already forming there as Wen Qing argued with a woman in overalls, gesturing angrily. Luo Qingyang slid neatly between them and took the three-legged hound from the woman's arms the same way she had taken charge of Lan Xichen's tea carafe. "You've got a criminal," Lan Xichen said pleasantly, pointing with his chin. Song Lan blinked, and then mentally swore, kneeling so he could free one hand to extricate the Pitbull mix from the open ziplock seal on OL' GRANDAD'S AUTHENTIC CHICKIN STRIPS (Reduced Fat). He pressed the hinge of the puppy's jaw to tug the pilfered treat free, tapping his nose when he tried to whine sadly. Song Lan hadn't gotten his certification yesterday. "Can you hold them while I give the injections?" he asked, waiting for Lan Xichen's acquiescence before struggling to his feet again. Half-way up he felt a pull at his knee. He looked down and saw the German Shepherd, tired of being ignored, had a mouthful of his pants. "No," Song Lan signed; but the dog hadn't been trained in sign language, so she growled playfully up at him, ears pricked. Song Lan reached to do the same trick he'd done on the Pitbull mutt, but he'd not accounted that the other set-down dogs would be investigating the other side of his newly-sniffable legs. With a grassy skid, and a very undignified shout, Song Lan went down. The dirt seemed a lot more solid when he was testing it with his nose and chin. Three of the puppies leapt on his face and began a series of scientific experiments as to whether he was dead or just playing. One slobbery tongue went into his ear. "Are you all right?" Lan Xichen's voice was above him: Song Lan was never, ever going to live this down. He groaned and rolled onto his back, throwing an arm across his eyes and letting the puppies pounce on his hair and ankles. The German Shepherd, looking delighted with herself, sat her ass down on Song Lan's stomach and examined his face, tongue lolling. Despite himself, Song Lan smiled and reached up to rub at her belly. She flopped onto her side (oof) and threw her front paws up so he could gain better access. Her tail beat wildly at the ground beside Song Lan's leg.

"Just…dangle them over my chest," Song Lan signed up at Lan Xichen's looming figure. He was tall. Was this what he looked like to everyone else at the clinic? "I'll do them like this."

"Of course, Doctor Song," Lan Xichen said, carefully solemn.

They looked at each other.

The girl puppy swatted her brother in the nose. Immediately he started crying.

"Shall I get you a cup of tea too, then?" Lan Xichen asked, and Song Lan couldn't help it; he laughed out loud.

"I suppose 'buried in dogs' isn't a terrible way to go," he signed, as Lan Xichen, finally abandoning his masterful attempt, let his grin take over his face. It was blinding. "Yes, if you've got a funnel to pour it through?"

#mdzs #cql #the untamed #song lan #lan xichen #song lan gets to laugh in this one! #and it's happier over all #the last one was like deep feelings vibes this one is just fluff #my fics #fic: lanlan rural vet au #lanlan rural vet au #song lan and wq were both speaking in sign in the flashback there if that wasn't clear #(EDIT: when will i catch a typo before i post. When. tell me w h y) #lanlan

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

My Oh My

Summary: The reader and her next door neighbor Dean have an arrangement to help one another through heats and ruts or just to fool around when they feel like it. When the reader’s heat hits though, things go differently this time around...

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x omega!reader

Square: Fuck Buddies

Word Count: 1,796

Warnings: mature (language, smut (sex), a/b/o dynamics)

A/N: Written for @spnkinkbingo​​

______

“Hey, Y/N!” called Dean from next door. You popped your head up from where you were washing your tires, spinning around to catch Dean smiling at you from his driveway. “How many times I got to tell you girl. Wash ‘em with soap and water first, then use the expensive buffer, hm?”

“I didn’t even use to wash my tires, Winchester,” you said, smirking as you stood up and he crossed the yard into yours. 

“Yeah but that’s why you got me around,” he laughed. You crossed your arms and leaned back against the wet car, Dean looking you up and down. “You free tonight?”

“Maybe. You got something planned?”

He stared at you and cocked his head adorably under his hat. You returned it and looked around.

“My bad. I uh, I thought I smelled your...heat,” he said quietly. You looked down and put a hand over your core.

“Oh. I guess today is the first day. It’s not even come on yet. You could really smell it?” you asked.

“It was faint,” he shrugged. “If it’s not that bad we don’t gotta.”

“No. No, suppressants help but an Alpha really makes it bearable,” you said. “Unless you’re busy.”

“No, not at all,” he smiled. “My place? Last time you said it helped being over there, my scent.”

“Yeah. I can pop over at 8 if that’s cool,” you said. He smiled and started to head back across his yard. 

“I’ll order a pizza. See you later, Y/L/N.”

“Hey,” you said, lightly sweating when Dean answered his door that night. You spotted a pizza box on his counter behind him.

“Hey,” he said, taking your bag from you. “Come on ‘mega.”

He locked up after you and grabbed your waist, lifting you up with one arm until you clung to him. 

“You have no idea how hot it is when you go Alpha,” you breathed into his neck, taking in his scent and getting dizzy off of it.

“Upstairs Omega. I’m gonna fuck you senseless,” he said. You were halfway up the stairs when the doorbell rang. Dean sighed and set you down on the step. “I will be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

You hummed, still soaking up his scent as he skirted back down the stairs and opened the door.

“Hey! You ready to go cutie?” said a feminine voice. Your nose twitched up and you smelled Omega, enough to put you back in reality. 

“Uh,” said Dean as you wandered back down the stairs and stepped into view. 

“Hi. I’m Elyse...Dean’s girlfriend. You must be his bestie neighbor he’s always telling me about. You’re coming out with us tonight...right?” she asked. 

“Oh,” you said, grabbing your bag, shooting Dean a look. “I would but my heat’s acting up. I’m out of pain medicine and was stopping by to see if Dean had some.”

“I got you. I never go anywhere without some,” she said, digging around in her purse and holding out a bottle.

“Thanks,” you grit out, forcing a smile. “Enjoy your date.”

You slipped past them both and outside, heading back into your house with a groan.

It was three in the morning and you were squirming in bed, arms wrapped around your core when a figure entered your bedroom. You jumped and saw Dean step into the dim light.

“Hey. Sorry. I used my emergency key. You uh, you doing okay?” he asked.

“Go fuck your Omega. We had a deal. Either one of us gets in a relationship, we call off the fuck buddies thing. That was the deal you apparently no longer care about,” you said, face scrunching up in pain. “Ah. Go away. You’re making it worse.”

“Y/N-”

“I said leave!” you shouted. You sat up and got out of bed, pushing him towards the door. “Go!”

You shoved again and fell down to your knees, gripping your stomach.

“Y/N,” said Dean. You were crying, even his scent not helping. “Y/N, come on.”

He picked you up and sat back on the bed with you, your face jamming in his neck.

“Elyse is not my girlfriend. She’s an old...client,” he said. “Occasionally she needs help through a heat too. I do it under the table. Only her. I swear.”

“She pays you money to fuck her?” you said, raising your head. Dean looked away and you grabbed his jaw. “Are you an Alpha for hire? Fucks sake, Dean.”

“I was young and made good money doing it. So yeah, I was an Alpha for hire. I didn’t like it anymore so I stopped,” he said.

“Obviously not,” you said. “Still screwing the neighbor and apparently the occasional old fuck.”

“Fuck you,” he said as he stood up, leaving you on the bed. You cried as he walked away, letting out tiny gasps of pain. He paused in the doorway and you doubled over. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

“You lied, all those ground rules we set out months ago and you lied,” you said. “Call me an ambulance and then get out of my life. I don’t want to see you anymore.”

“Fine. Good riddance,” he said.

“Good! Get out of my house,” you said. He stared at you and you glared back. “What?”

“You know how whenever we fool around, I don’t let you take off my shirt?” he asked quietly.

“I figured you were self-conscious,” you said. He shook his head and stepped in front of you, ripping it off. You saw a tattoo on his chest, Dean looking away. “Is that-”

“An ownership brand? Yeah. I did something stupid as a teenager. Egged a house of a local official stupid. I presented early though. He wanted to set an example. I could do a longer stint in jail or I could be an Alpha for hire for five years and then get out,” he said.

“How old were you?”

“Eighteen. I was technically an adult.”

“Why did you pick being that?” you asked, Dean sitting down on the bed again.

“Because I was small back then and small Alpha boys get torn apart in places like that,” he said. “I wouldn’t have lasted a week before they fucked me up for good. So I chose the less horrible option.”

“Elyse isn’t your girlfriend?”

“No. She never...the truth is she’s a lawyer. She’s my lawyer. We keep all of this quiet. No one knows. I was embarrassed. I still am. I’m sorry I lied. But I never…” he said, trailing off when you put his hand on your stomach.

“You shouldn’t have sex with someone unless you want to, Dean,” you said.

“I don’t,” he said. “Not anymore.”

“I’m sorry for assuming.”

“I’m sorry for lying.”

“Dean. I think we need to stop doing this. I don’t want you to feel like you have to.”

“I’ve never felt like that with you. I like having fun sex and heat sex and rut sex. I like it a lot with you. I’m only here for two reasons. I like it and I don’t like you in pain which you are clearly in a lot of.”

“I didn’t take any painkillers,” you said. 

“Oh, Omega, why?” said Dean, standing up and going into your bathroom, returning with a few in the palm of his hand.

“I was upset and hormonal and I changed my mind so please fuck me if that’s okay,” you said, sniffling as you chugged down the pills.

“Can you make it to my house?” he asked.

“I need a nest,” you said, throwing your head back. “I need one. Fuck, I haven’t waited this long to take medicine since I presented.”

“I made you one already,” he said, grabbing some clothes for you. “Come on. Let’s get you taken care of.”

“De, I need it,” you groaned, your hands digging into his back not five minutes later, Dean letting you mark him up as he rocked his hips into you in his room.

“Say it,” he murmured, nipping lightly at your neck, just over where your mating bond would go. He wouldn’t dare actually bite down but the thought made you shiver.

“Alpha.”

“Thatta girl,” he said, kissing your skin as he thrust his knot inside of you. He let it nearly pop back out but he slammed in hard, locking you together.

A pleasure pain ripped through your core, you heat temporarily sated as your muscles milked him.

“Good ‘mega. Good girl,” shushed Dean, pulling the blankets around you further. It was hot and smelled like pure Alpha in the tiny nest he’d built, your face jammed in his neck as he turned to his side. “Good. You did real good.”

“You’re pretty,” you hummed, placing a hand over the tattoo on his chest. “Who was the guy that did it?”

“Nance,” he said. “I think he’s in the mayor’s office now.”

“Dean. My mom works for the disciplinary agency for the state,” you breathed out, holding onto him tight. “She would love to bring down an ass like that.”

“It was legal what they did,” he said.

“No. It wasn’t. It’s called Alpha-Alpha owning. It’s illegal. Trust me,” you said.

“I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“You can’t. You’re protected under the law,” you said. “It’s there if you’re ever looking for a little payback is all. Maybe you can bring it up to Elyse.”

“I’ll think about it,” he said, pushing sweaty strands of hair away from your face. “You know I always used to hate this part. The cuddling, being stuck, all that stuff. I think I like it now.”

“I like it,” you said, closing your eyes. “Thank you for coming over.”

“You needed it. I could sense it,” he said.

“Still. Thank you,” you murmured. You shut your eyes, falling asleep on top of him but that wasn’t unusual whenever you slept together.

Waking up to Dean still in bed the next morning was new though. Him rolling over and kissing your cheek was definitely new. Making out was normal, soft sweet kisses, not so much.

You didn’t want to think about it too much. You still had the rest of your heat to get through after all.

_____

#spnkinkbingo #dean x reader #dean winchester #alpha!dean #abo #spn #supernatural #alpha!dean x reader #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean fanfiction #dean winchester x #dean winchester x reader insert #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #dean fanfic

[rootedincuteness]

Undaunted by the complete decimation of our garden, Fernadette went out to visit the one ray of hope in all of this… the tomatoes. They are the only things untouched by whatever came barreling through with its trampling feet and voracious appetite to eat everything else. The plants have many blossoms, which lifted her spirits, however… I didn’t have the heart to tell her that there are two portly groundhogs living under my neighbor’s shed that are poised to start eating all the tomatoes as soon as they come in. She doesn’t need to know that just yet. But there has been some progress with regard to sleuthing out the cuprit(s). So far, we have three contenders. Personally, I think it’s all of them:

As I mentioned there are two groundhogs whose butt-prints have been found dragging through the wildflower bed. Traps have been set to catch them (all humane, don’t worry… we simply relocate everything we catch to a nice forested area some miles away), but they have eluded us many times. We think they’re either too smart, or too fat, to spring the traps.

A large momma bun has been spotted knocking over the cages around the zucchini and squash plants to feast on their leaves. We have replaced and even anchored the cages to no avail. We don’t want to relocate her because we think she has babies in a burrow elsewhere in the yard, so this is one critter we’ll just have to tolerate.

Fernadette is an experienced fernwitch, but she specializes in herbalism. However, Graer has been teaching her some tracking as well, and today she put it to good use. She found… deer tracks! So this is the furry monster whose been trampling everything and eating all the leaves and flowers, even the very tall ones. Some of the lilies are well out of bunny or groundhog range, so this makes a lot of sense.

The bunnies and groundhogs will hopefully be taken care of by the traps if we’re patient enough (except for the big momma bun… we won’t take her away from her babies). What can you do with a deer problem in a residential area and outside of hunting season? SOAP ‘EM! Deer hate the smell of Irish Spring soap, a particularly pungent brand. A few bars suspended on strings or stuck onto poles near our plants should do the trick. Fernadette’s human’s neighbor swears by this method, and his garden is fine, so… It’s time to go to work!

To be continued…

#fernadette the fern #friends of mudpie #garden devastation

[justthehiddleswrites]

Should… | Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Emma Masters) | Chapter 7 |  …We Take The Leap?

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Emma Masters

Summary: Five years ago, Emma Masters just landed her first big acting gig on a soap opera. While it is not much, it is an opportunity to grow. While out celebrating, she meets up with a fellow actor, Tom Hiddleston. While she doesn’t recognize any of his work, the two hit it off. Before they know, they are getting hot and heavy in the elevator up to Tom’s room. Like ships passing in the night, the two never manage to meet again.Now five years later, Emma is a heavy hitter in the prime time drama world and Tom is a Golden Globe winning movie star. Their paths cross again but things have changed. Will they do what they should or fall to their deepest desires?

This Chapter:    Emma and Tom head over to confront Corrinne and are met with an unwelcome surprise. Will they get their happily ever after or will disaster strike again?

Warnings: smut, vaginal sex, fingering, drunk sex, oral sex, cheating, unhealthy relationships

-

Emma’s knuckles turned a pale white as she gripped the steering wheel on the way to Corrinne’s house in Pacific Palisades. Tom tried to reassure Emma but continued to mutter to herself the entire ride.

“I don’t understand. We’ve been friends. ARE. Are friends.”

“Darling…” Tom started as he rubbed her shoulders, trying to keep calm. “I am sure a perfect logical—”

“For one of my closest friends to sell me out to the highest bidder? What would that be, Tom? Because I can’t think of a single one right now!” Emma exclaimed, gesturing with gusto.

Tom winced as he placed her hands back on the wheel. “Why don’t we start with getting us there in one piece?”

“I’m sorry.” Emma sobbed, returning her eyes to the road.

The rest of the drive went without incident, with only the songs of the radio to distract Emma from crying. As they pulled into Corrinne’s driveway, Emma noticed a brand new bright blue Range Rover in the driveway, not Corrinne’s black BMW.

“I wonder if she has company?” Emma questioned as they both got out of the car. She looked at Tom. “Maybe it is better if you stay in the car.”

Tom shook his head. “I am not letting you go in alone.”

Now Emma reassured Tom. “I will be fine, two girls talking.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Like that is not a dangerous proposition.” He threw his hands up as he got back into the car. “Very well, I’ll stay here, but leave the door unlocked.”

Emma nodded as she strolled up to massive oak doors at the front of Corrinne’s home. She used the spare key on her key chain to open the door. She closed the door behind her, making sure to not latch the bolt.

“Corrinne!” Emma’s voice echoed off the cavernous walls of the home.

Corrinne’s house looked as though the space belonged on the pages of Architectural Digest. With two ex-husbands and no kids, Corrinne could afford to keep things immaculate. The home always gave Emma the shivers. Too cold.

“Corrinne!”

Emma detected sounds coming from the master bedroom and made her way in that direction. The sounds grew more distinct. Corrinne sounded as though she was in pain. Worried, Emma barged into the room. Corrinne was not in distress. She found Corrinne entangled with none other than Bryce on the bed.

“What the FUCK is going?” Emma shrieked. The shrill tone of her voice startling the two lovers from their bliss.

“Emma?” Bryce questioned as he stood from the bed, the sheet falling away.

Emma chuckled as she wondered what she ever saw in Bryce.

“Em?” Corrinne responded, pulling the sheet tighter around her body. “What on earth? I can explain.”

Emma crossed her arms. “Go on. Explain to me why the gossip rags published a story I told you in confidence.”

“I..”

“Explain to me how you could throw four years of friendship down the drain.”

“Well…”

“Explain to me how long you have been fucking Bryce, who until four days ago was my BOYFRIEND!”

Corrinne sat on the edge of the bed, wordless. Bryce came to her rescue, crossing the room to stand in front of Emma, tugging on his boxers.

“Em, babe.” Bryce reached out to run the back of his fingers down her cheek.

“Don’t you dare touch me! How long, Bryce?”

“Six months.”

Emma nodded, blinking back the tears. She didn’t want the two of them to look at her breaking.

“Okay, I just have one more question. Did I ever mean anything to you besides a meal ticket?”

Bryce shrugged his shoulders. “You always looked nice on my arm in pictures. That is, when you didn’t eat too many sweets.”

As those words fell from his lips and into the air, Emma’s guilt or pain over the failed relationship fell away.

“Fair enough. Goodbye Bryce.”

Emma spun on her heel to leave but saw her arm trailing behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Bryce gripping her wrist.

“Let go of me, Bryce.”

“Babe, don’t be like this. Corrinne said if we play our cards right we can get mid-six figures minimum and a couple of talk show gigs. You know I want to be on TV.” Bryce pleaded.

The tone of Bryce’s voice snapped something inside Emma. She reared back and with all of her training landed a solid punch right on Bryce’s jaw. He went down like a stone.

“I said don’t touch me.” Emma snapped at Bryce on the floor. “I am not your meal ticket or arm candy anymore, Bryce. Don’t ever speak to me again!”

At that moment, Tom burst into the room. His eyes darted between Emma standing over Bryce, now writhing on the floor and Corrinne, seated at the end of the bed in silence.

“What the hell is going on, Em?” Tom asked as he moved to put both his hands on her shoulders.

He looked over her to examine Bryce crumpled on the floor. He clutched his jaw and Tom noticed a small trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.

“How are you doing there, Bry? It’s okay if I call you ‘Bry,’ right?” Tom taunted. “Are we done here, Emma?”

Emma turned her head to look him in the eye. “Yeah, I’m done here.” She acknowledged, her tears long dried up.

Tom pivoted Emma out of the room and out to the car. Once they got on the road, Emma realized her knuckles hurt. She shook her hand out as Tom drove the car. He caught the motion out of the corner of his eye. “Darling, did you hurt your hand punching Bryce in the jaw?” he said with a smile.

“Yeah, it stings.”

Tom examined Emma’s hand, her knuckles appeared swollen and red.

“Once we get back, let’s ice it and see how it feels.”

Emma nodded. “Damn, it felt good though.”

Tom smiled. “You may be singing a different tune in a few hours.”

Emma chuckled. “True, but I will never forget the sight of Bryce balled up on the floor.”

“That was a sight. Remind me to never make you mad."

Emma put her fists up in a fighting stance.

“Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”

Tom’s laugh filled the car. “I believe the phrase is ‘float like a butterfly’.”

“Whatever. I am invincible.” Emma punched his arm. “Ow! What are you made of? Marble?”

“That is the rumor.”

As they pulled up to Tom’s hotel, a realization hit Emma.

“Shit, Tom, what is Howard going to say? What is LUKE going to say? He is going to kill me!”

Tom’s face paled, but he gave a weak smile. “I am sure he will get over it.” Tom swallowed. “Eventually.”

“Maybe we should call him and Howard. Soften the blow.”

Tom nodded. “Fine.”

They pulled their phones out and dialed their respective publicist.

“Howard?”

“Hello, Luke. So, funny story...”

The two of them told the story to Howard and Luke. About five minutes into the conversation, Tom looked at Emma.

“Yes she is here. Fine.” Tom pulled his lips into a tight line as he handed the phone to Emma. “He wants to speak to you.”

Emma gulped as they exchanged phones. “Here, talked to Howard. Hello, Luke.”

“I expected better from you, Emma. I expect this kind of fuckery from that BASTARD, Tom!” Emma held the phone away from her ear. Tom gave a pleading look and mouthed “sorry”.

“Yeah Howard, I’m still here,” Tom muttered in the background.

“Listen, Luke. I understand we upset you. But I considered it best to let you know as soon as possible as opposed to seeing it online. Now isn’t that preferable?”

Luke sighed. “I hate to admit it, but yes it is.”

Emma smiled as Tom looked over and frowned at her. “Thanks, Luke. I am sure you will want to speak to us again. Why don’t I give you my number too, in case Tom misplaces his phone?”

Tom continued to scowl at Emma. He did not like this one bit. His girlfriend and publicist getting along might cause him to behave once in a while. Emma recited the number and then said her goodbyes, handing the phone back to Tom.

“Luke? Mate?” Tom questioned as he put the phone back up to his ear.

“If you fuck this relationship up, mate. I will personally castrate you. You sodding twat of a bastard.”

Luke hung up with no warning and left Tom staring at the phone. He looked up at Emma, who wrapped up her own phone call.

“Luke likes you.”

“What makes you say that?”

“For starters, he has indicated that if I were to screw up this relationship, he would detach my testicles from the rest of my body.”

Emma smirked as they stepped out of the car. “You better be nice to me then.”

Tom smiled. “Do you have plans for me?” He slid his arms around her waist, pulling her tight against his chest. He lowered his head to kiss her lips.

“Perhaps. But we need to get upstairs.”

Tom grabbed her hand and dragged her through the side entrance of the hotel.

Emma moved towards the service elevator, but Tom pulled her into a nook of the hallway.

“Tom!” Emma gasped as he pushed her against the wall. “People can see.”

Tom nipped at her neck; hands ghosting over her curves before hooking one of Emma’s knees up.

“If you are quiet, they won’t notice.” Tom growled into her ear as her hands combed through his hair.

Tom bucked his hips into Emma and she bit her lip to suppress the moans of pleasure. Her hands slid down to cup his ass through his jeans.

“Mhmm.” she groaned as Tom cupped her breast through her shirt.

“Darling, with noises like that, I won’t last long.”

An awkward throat clearing interrupted them and they turned to see a gentleman in a suit staring them down. Tom let go of Emma’s leg and she straighten up her clothes.

“Perhaps the young couple would prefer to continue their activities somewhere more private?” he retorted without a hint of emotion.

Tom tugged on the hem of his shirt. “Of course, sorry for the intrusion.”

“Thank you, sir. Happens more than you think.” He gave them a wink as Tom led Emma down the hallway.

As soon as the door shut, they wasted no time getting back to the business at hand.

-

Over the next several days, Luke and Howard untangled the mess Bryce and Corrinne created with their web of lies and half-truths. A few receipts and phone calls put an end to any speculation of the two of them being a long time couple. A few papers tried to run with the story of Emma cheating on Bryce, spurred on by Bryce trying to capture every minute of fame, but it died out when a few of Bryce’s other dalliances came forward, destroying any sympathy for the man.

The press generated a lot of interest in their new project and the production company moved up the release date. It meant filming started next month; however, it also meant Tom needed to return to London sooner than planned to take care of things before filming began.

“Can’t you stay just a few days longer?” Emma whined as Tom packed his things into his suitcase.

Tom looked at her with a disapproving glance. “You recognized this was coming, Em.” He folded up the jeans and placed them into the bag.

“I know, but I didn’t expect it would go by so fast. When are you coming back?”

“In three weeks and then I am here for eight weeks filming.”

She frowned. “Can’t I just come with you?”

Tom chuckled. “You and I know that won’t work. You have obligations here and I have things in London to take care before I come back to film. With you.” He kissed her forehead. “Not to mention I would get no work done whatsoever because I would keep you in bed with me the entire time.”

Emma sighed. “Since when are you the voice of reason?”

“Since my publicist threatened my manhood.” They both laughed as Tom came around the bed to hug Emma tight against his chest. “And I have found myself someone worth it.”

Emma sniffled into Tom’s shirt. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Hiddleston.”

Tom ended the embrace with a kiss to her cheek. “How about bribery?”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

“Mind out of the gutter, darling. I offer you my most prized possession.” Tom held out a small parcel.

Emma took it with a questioning expression and as she unfurled a navy sweater. Her eyes lit up. “You remembered how much I love this one.”

Tom gave her a wink. “Many a fan girl would kill for that sweater. I do not want to find this up for sale on eBay.”

Emma snapped her fingers, mocking Tom. “There goes my retirement plan.”

Tom leaned in to kiss her lips, his hands combing through her hair. She sighed as they parted. “I am going to miss you.”

“I am going to miss you too.” Tom looked down at her, his eyes bright with tears. “Three weeks seems like an eternity.”

“I love you, Tom. I know it has been only a few weeks, but I love you.”

Tom kissed her with passion and heat. “I love you too, Em. Never doubt I love. Never doubt it.”

“Okay, Shakespeare.” She burrowed her face into his chest, tears falling onto his shirt. “When is your flight again?”

“In a few hours. Are you still up to driving me there?” He asked, lifting her chin to look her in the eyes.

“Yes.” she commented wiping away the tears. “I want every second to count.”

Tom nodded as he zipped up his suitcase and pulled it down to the ground.

“Ready, darling?” Tom asked as he opened the door.

“No, but that never stopped us before.” She took his hand in hers.

“No, it hasn’t.” He gave her hand a small squeeze.

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston series #should

[thewildomega]

Second Chance Ch.14

A/N: Ya’ll can’t tell me this man isn’t a hunk! Props for the awesome fanart goes to @insect_candy on twitter. I found it on pintrest. As always if the artist sees this and wants me to remove it just send em a message and I’ll take it down asap. I do think it’s really good though. Especially the eyes. If anyone gets a chance go check out their page. Link is in the name. Hope everyone likes this update. How much longer should this story go on? Is it still interesting and enjoyable to read?

Sitting quietly in your chair beside Ed you listened as they all spoke, Ed telling his sons what had happened when he had arrived in your world. You couldn't help but blush when he talked so fondly of you, telling his sons how you had helped him, taken care of him. 

"Then it would seem we are in your debt Y/n. Thank you for helping our pops." Izo spoke to the woman who had remained quiet throughout dinner.

 Looking to the man you shook your head. "Oh no, it's okay really it was no problem I..."

"It's okay Y/n you don't have to lie to us, we know how much of a handful the old man can be." Marco said making his brothers laugh. 

"Agreed, I think we should congratulate her on not killing him in his sleep." Vista grinned. 

"I am not that bad." He grumbled when he saw them all laughing. Looking beside him he even saw his lass giggling lightly at his son's teasing of him. All in all though he couldn't be mad, it was nice having some of his family all together again, even more so now that Y/n was here with him. Chewing a bite of his food he watched and listened as they went about asking Y/n about her world. Already his son's were starting to warm up to her and the sight made him smile softly. 

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

After supper you and Zella had moved to clean up while the men all talked and caught up. It made your heart warm to see Ed happy with his sons. Once everything was all tidy Zella had told you she was calling it a night. She had been very sleepy the past few days and while you wanted to ask her if she was okay you also didn't want to seem nosey. Drying all the dishes and putting them away you looked over everything and sighed. Walking out of the kitchen and into the living room you saw no one here as well, you could hear their voices from outside though and guessed they were all out there. Not wanting to intrude on their family time you looked down to your hand which you had successfully kept hidden the whole night. Walking to the guest bathroom you closed the door and finally unwrapped the dishcloth from it. Looking down at the bloody cut you winced. It wasn't that long, only half of your palm length, going from the middle of your palm to the space between your thumb and forefinger. It was decently deep though, especially the skin between your fingers. Setting the bloody dishrag in the sink you turned on the hot water and filled the sink so you could let it soak. Turning on the shower you pulled off your clothes, trying your best not to get any blood on them as well. Stepping into the shower you rinsed your hand, grabbing the soap you started washing, biting your lip and whimpering when it felt like you had poured salt into your wound. Washing your hair was annoying as well but you made it work. Quickly shaving and then getting out you grabbed a towel and started drying off.

Opening the closet door you moved to grab your clothes from the basket but when you looked down to the floor where they had bene you saw nothing there. "What... where..." you said out loud. Knitting your brows you looked all in the closet but didn't find anything but the spare towels and washing machine. Where the hell were your clothes? You had just did laundry the other day so you knew they weren't dirty. So where the hell... Ed. Closing the door you wrapped the towel tightly around you, thankful they were made for his size. Running your fingers through your hair when you also noticed your hairbrush not in the drawer or any of your other items he had bought you you sighed. Opening the door you peeked out to see no one in the house. Licking your lips you walked towards his bedroom which was the only other place you could think your things would be. Glancing around the room you tried to locate your basket. Seeing it on the dresser you moved over to it but saw it empty. "Where in the hell..."

"Darlin' are you back..." 

Freezing when you heard his voice you looked up to the door to see him standing in the doorway, looking at you. Snapping your eyes down you felt your face, ears and neck catch fire. 

"...here." he finished. Seeing her standing by the dresser in nothing but a towel he closed his mouth when he realized it was still open. The white towel that she had wrapped around her ended at her knees. While it revealed nothing but her lower legs, shoulders and arms he felt his manhood twitch all the same. She was naked, the only thing on her being a towel. 

God you were so embarrassed. You both had only slept in the same bed for one night and now here you were just walking around his bedroom in nothing but a damn towel. What the hell would he think of you? "C..clothes?" you asked in a whisper. 

She wouldn't look up at him but he could see the tips of her ears sticking out of her wet hair and noticed the blush on them immediately. "Right." Walking over to the dresser he opened the drawers where he had put her clothes in with his. Grabbing the black lace panties that she had on when they came here he clenched his teeth when his imagination decided to take over. 'NO'. Shutting the drawer he moved down to the next and grabbed one of his shirts that she was keen on wearing for a nightgown. Black lace panties and his shirt. God his pants were already tightening at the thought. Taking a deep breath he went to hand them over to her. "Here ya go lass." he said, his voice deeper than usual. 

Keeping your eyes down some you went to take your clothes when he suddenly grabbed your wrist. 

"What's that?" 

Remembering your cut palm you looked up to him and shook your head some, "Nothing." 

Refusing to let go of her wrist he turned her hand up and knit his brows when he saw the deep cut on her palm. "Sure does look like something to me darling. What happened?"

"I just nicked it when I was washing dishes earlier." you told him. 

Humming he frowned. "This is more than a little nick lass. Why didn't you say something about, did Zella see it, she could have said something to Marco." 

"No she didn't see it, it happened before..."

"Before when?" he asked and then shook his head and looked to her eyes, "Before supper? You did this before supper and you didn't say anything?" he asked in a disapproving voice. Now that he thought back he did think it was strange she had been keeping her hand under the table in her lap. 

Sighing you took your clothes and moved towards his bathroom to dress. "It's fine Ed." 

Walking behind her he crossed his arms over his chest. "Until it gets infected." 

"It's not going to get infected, I cleaned it." you told him, pushing the door closed so you could dress. 

Standing just outside of the door he waited for her to dress which only took a moment. Once the door opened and she went to step out he moved forward, scooping her up and sitting her down on the bathroom counter. "That's what everyone says. Trust me I have seen my fare share of injuries, little cuts that no one thought nothing of until it turns septic and then has to be chopped off." 

Listening to his lecture you watched as he moved to grab something from under the vanity. Seeing him set a first aid kit on the counter next to you, you looked up to him. Placing your hand in his when he held it out for you. "How did you get those scars from your pictures, the ones on your chest?"

Beginning to clean the cut with alcohol he saw her fingers twitch but not snatch away. "Different battles. One from my old Captain, Rocks. Got one from fighting Roger and another from an old crewmate, Shikki." grabbing the roll of bandages and tape he applied a bit of cream to it to both help with pain and quick healing. "What about you, any scars on that pretty body?" 

Blushing again you saw him noticed this time and heard him chuckle lightly. "That gunshot one..." you started but heard him grunt. 

"Don't like the story of that one." he growled under his breath. 

"I do, that's the night I got to come here with you." 

Seeing her smiling softly at him he sighed. "While that may be true, it still should have never happened." taping down the bandage he lifted her up again to take her to their bed, cutting off the light to both the bathroom and bedroom on the way. Sitting on the bed he rested against the headboard with his feet stretched out and her straddling his lap. "Anymore?" he asked, knowing if he wanted her to relax he needed to keep her talking. There wasn't any light but that of the candle on the side table but he could still tell she was blushing. 

Humming you tried to focus on the question he asked and not the fact you were currently straddling the lap of the man you loved. "Um well there's the one where Smoke bit me."

Looking down to her leg where she was looking he tilted his head at the faint scar on her thigh. Licking his lips he moved his thumb under the hem of his shirt and pushed it higher up her left leg, feeling heat pool to his pelvis at the feel of her soft skin. Seeing the bite there he huffed. "He got you good didn't he?" It wasn't a nasty scar but he could tell by each individual mark that the wolf had sunk his teeth in deep. 

"Yea." you sighed. 

Stroking her thigh with his thumb he glanced over the rest of her skin, looking for any other scars. "That it?"

"n..No. I have a 'W' on my right hip from where Keith branded me." you told him, having to steady yourself, the feel of his warm hands on your thighs making that tingling come back. 

"He branded you?" he asked in a deep voice, a frown on his face as he lifted his eyes to hers. 

"He didn't do it intentionally. He was making that new sign at Mel's bar for his dad and kept messing around. The letters that you use to burn the wood, he kept poking the 'M' towards me asking if it was hot. He wasn't trying to actually touch me with it but Trish came in and bumped into me and well yea." Seeing his brows knit together you took a deep breath, "It was definitely hot. Burnt straight through my shirt and everything. Keith felt horrible for it, he bought me dinner for the next week." 

Looking down to her hip he thought for a moment before asking, "Can I see?"

Swallowing hard you felt your heart beat a little faster as you lifted the bottom of the shirt up enough to show him the 'W' over your left hip bone. 

Forcing his eyes to focus on her hip and not the part of her covered by black lace that he wanted so desperately to look at he indeed saw the 'W' scar on her skin. He didn't like the idea of her being hurt like that and furrowed his brows. Rubbing his hand up her thigh and hip he held her with his hand over her side, feeling the material of her panties under the bottom part of his palm. Genty tracing the mark with his thumb he swallowed hard when his eyes dropped to the apex of her thighs for a fraction of a second. Instantly he knew that was a bad idea when he felt his cock come to life. Fuck he could make out the silhouette of her womanhood through the weblike pattern. Raising his knees some and spreading his legs so it wouldn't become too obvious he was aroused he held her steady as she slipped forward. Catching sight of the scar on her chest when his shirt moved some he furrowed his brows. Keeping his one hand under th ebottom of the shirt on her hip he raised his other one to touch the circular scar. It wasn't too bad since Marco had healed her with ihs power but it would probably stay there for the remainder of her life. To him it would be a constant reminder of how she had saved him, while noble he couldn't get the image of her lifeless body out of his head. Even now it made his heart clench painfully. 

Seeing his brows and lips turn into a firm line as he looked to the scar on your chest you gently took hold of his hand that was stroking the area. Looking into his warm yellow eyes as when they lifted to yours you watched his face relax. 

"Why did you run after that man lass? You knew he had a gun, knew that he wouldn't care if you got hurt." he asked her and saw her eyes shoot down. 

"He took all the money that was in the safe, that was everything Mel had..." you shrugged.

"Money isn't that important darling." 

"Mel is sick, he's dying. I know money isn't the most important thing in life but when they were barely making it as it was that money could have meant life or death for him when it was paying for his medicine. After everything that family did for me I couldn't just sit there and let that asshole take everything from them like that."

Hearing this he sighed softly, stroking her hip with his thumb. He fell more and more in love with her everyday. "How the hell did this old pirate get lucky enough to have an angel like you as his soulmate?" he spoke in a low voice. 

"Soulmate?" 

Just realizing what he had said he blinked and felt his mouth go dry. "Ah... well yes..." Clearing his throat he tried to think of a way to explain their destined love to her. "You see lass here in this world soulmates are a thing... a ah... a natural connection. Not everyone has them but some get lucky enough. It's when two people are destined to be with each other and they have this... well this pull and..." Seeing her smile grow and her teeth bit down on her lip some he stopped, feeling a blush over his cheeks and neck. 

"It's okay Ed, Zella explained them to me last week." seeing him furrow his brows as he looked down to you, you grinned nervously. "I wasn't sure you felt the same way and I didn't want to lose you so I never said anything."

She had been afraid he wouldn't love her back. She felt their connection as well? The knowledge made him smile. Still he could tell she was a bit nervous. "So you knew what they were and still you let me suffer through that horrible explanation like an idiot." 

Seeing him cut his eyes at you playfully, a smile still present on his lips you tilted your head. "It was fun to watch you be the nervous wreak for a change." you admitted with a small shrug.

Growling he grinned as he quickly wrapped his arm around her and flipped her to the bed, holding himself up above her while her hands held onto his back and shoulder. Gazing down at her sparkling eyes he felt that swelling in his heart and sighed softly. "Never thought I'd experience that whole feeling that comes with having a soulmate. My entire life I've always felt like there was something missing. Ever since I was a kid the only thing I've ever wanted was a family. I gathered many sons and daughters over the years, children of the sea that I called my own but it wasn't enough. There was still some part of me that was missing and I could never find that lost piece. When I died in Marrieford I accepted that it would be a mystery that would never be solved. But to my surprise my story wasn't over. I was found by the very person I had spent my whole life trying to find. I knew from the first time I saw you that you were the one, that you were meant to be mine. I don't know which higher power was looking out for me but I thank them for finally allowing our paths to cross." His heart was hammering so hard against his ribcage he was sure it would soon burst from his chest. "Lass you make me feel complete, I will love you forever. Long after the seas dry up and the stars fade in the sky." He was so nervous he thought he might have another heart attack. Staring into her eyes he licked his dry lips. "I promise to care for you. You will be the only woman I ever love. I'll provide for ya and you'll never want for anything..."

"Ed.." 

"Darling I don't have a ring to give ya, not yet at least but I..." Taking a deep breath he swallowed hard. "I'll get you one, anyone you want. I can't wait till then, not a moment longer, I have to ask you now. Will ya marry me lass?"

Four months, three weeks and six days. That's how long it had been since you had found him on the shore of the lake. It wasn't that long really but you felt like you had known him your whole life. Even from the beginning he had always felt like this old friend who had just shown back up from out of nowhere. Somewhere along those few months you had fell head over heels for him but you had said nothing. So afraid that he would soon toss you aside like everyone else had you had distanced yourself as much as possible even when it made your heart ache terribly. He was patient with you, he listened. He made you laugh and cry and he was right about feeling whole because not once in your life had you ever been so happy than you were when you were with him. Almost five months, most would probably say that that wasn't long enough to know a person to marry them but to you, that was all the time you needed. 

Looking up into those warm yellow eyes you smiled, your eyes tearing up a bit. "Yes."

As soon as the word was out of her mouth he felt his face break into what had to be the biggest smile of his life. Without a moment's hesitation he lowered his body to hers, finally claiming her lips. Just as he suspected her lips were soft and smooth. A light sigh left his nose at being able to finally kiss her. Thankfully this time Marco wasn't here to interpret either. There was this strong pulling in his chest that turned into a comfortable warmth as he allowed his body to lower just above hers, still careful not to crush her. She had tensed the tiniest amount when their lips first met but quickly she had relaxed. 

He was kissing you. You were getting your first kiss and it was so incredible. God his lips were so warm and only a bit rougher than your own. You could feel the slight scruff on his upper lip but it didn't bother you. Then there was the heat of his huge body laying over yours and that strange tugging that had turned into a comforting warmth. You could die happy right here and now. The hand holding your hip was gently messaging you while the one wrapped under your head made you feel secure and safe. When the need for air became desperate and he pulled away some you looked up into his soft eyes, his hair falling around the both of your faces making the moment even more intimate. 

"...so what'd she say?"

"Yes of course!" 

"I told you she would." 

"Way to go Pops."

Hearing voices from outside of the window you peeked around his massive arm to look out of the window, you couldn't see anything because of the drawn curtains but when Ed let out a deep growl you knew someone was there. 

Letting go of her hip he grabbed one of the pillows and threw it towards the window his sons were standing by. "If you four don't get the hell out of here I'll toss you all to the sea!"

"He does realize we are on land right?"

"Is that a challenge?!"

Giggling through it all you quickly wrapped your arms around his neck when he went to move. 

Being pulled back down by his little woman he didn't get to say a word before her lips pushed their way back to his. "Overgrown children." he grumbled around her lips and heard her giggle lightly. Continuing to hold himself up with one arm he moved his free hand over to the table to pinch out the wick. Maybe if the room was dark his sons would get the hint to leave them alone. 

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

"So what is it for?" Izo asked.

Seeing the three men looking to your phone you tilted your head, "Um well in my world people use them to call one another, like the den den's here. You can also use it to read books on, there's a calculator, a flashlight, a camera..." Showing them each feature you saw their brows raise when you turned on the flashlight. Taking a picture of the three of them you turned it around to show them and saw Vista smile. "Really there is a whole bunch of stuff on it. I can't make calls on it anymore since I'm here but I can still read some books on it and listen to music."

"Music?" Jozu asked. 

Humming you nodded and brought up your music list. Tapping on a song you saw them all look to it in amazement when the song started playing. 

"You'll soon be hearing the chime Close to midnight If I could turn back the time I'd make all right

How could it end like this? There's a sting in the way you kiss me Something within your eyes Said it could be the last time Fore it's over!

Just wanna be Wanna bewitch you in the moonlight Just wanna be I wanna bewitch you all night..."

"I want one of those." Vista said. 

Giggling you held it out for him to take. "Here ya'll knock yourself out. I have to go pick up some stuff from town for supper anyway. Just don't hit anything that says delete okay." When they all nodded but kept their eyes on the phone you smiled again and stood. 

Walking from around the house he looked to see Izo, Vista and Jozu all sitting on the ground playing with his soon to be wife's phone. Wife, the thought of being able to call her that made his chest swell with pride. Hearing the music playing from her phone he chuckled at the smile on his sons faces. Looking down at them with his arms crossed over his chest he chuckled. "So I see y/n has shown you her phone." 

"This thing is amazing. Look at all the books she has.."

"There is over three hundred songs on it as well." Izo added. 

"Yea she loves reading and music." he grinned.

"Marco said she likes cooking too." Jozu spoke.

"I bet Thatch would have liked her." Vista grinned.

"Ace too." 

Sighing his grin turned bittersweet, he would have loved for her to meet the both of his fallen sons. He knew for a fact they both would have loved her. Looking to them all again he raised his brows, "Do any of you happen to know where it is my lass has run off to?"

"Yea, she said she had to go into town to get stuff for supper." 

"Let us borrow her phone while she was gone." 

Humming he nodded, "Don't break it." 

"Yea, yea." 

Huffing out he started towards town. Looking all over for her he didn't find her anywhere and when he finally asked around they said she had already left a little while ago. Knitting his brows he stood in though, if she had already left then he would have met her on the way back home but he hadn't. So where was she? Deciding to let his heart lead the way he started walking out of town and towards the entrance to the town. If she was going to get groceries then why would she need to come out here? Going up the hill and towards the ruins of the old town he had grew up in he looked across to the edge of the cliff where his and Ace's grave was. He had been to it a few times to talk to his son but he found it strange looking at his own headstone. A part of him wondered if there was anything buried there? Marco had told him that they had buried him, hell even that red head had helped but if he was here now was that body now gone or was this a whole new one? As tempted as he was to dig it up he figured he was better off not knowing. 

Getting closer to the top he saw her h/c hair blowing in the breeze and knit his brows, what was she doing up here? Going to call out to her he stopped when he saw someone standing by her, the two of them looking to be speaking. Realizing who it was he clenched his teeth and marched a little faster towards them. As soon as he was close enough he saw Garps eyes shoot to him, his brows raising. Moving y/n behind him he stared down at the man, "What the hell are you doing here Garp?"

"What am I doing here, what the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be dead damnit! And why are you young again?!" Garp yelled. "Wait a minute, am I dead? Did I die and for some godforsaken reason end up in the same place as you? If I did die how come I'm still old?"

"You're going to be dead if you don't get off my damn island!" 

"Go to hell Newgate, I'm here to see Ace..."

"NO! You don't get to pay your respects to my son..."

"He was my damn grandson before he was one of your sons!"

"Don't act like you care so much about him now, you let him die!"

"Ace made his choice, he became a pirate and then he joined up with you! I warned him but he wouldn't listen!" The marine yelled, his face turning red and his veins sticking out in his forehead. 

"What a load of crap! That boy had a target on his back before he was even born! For being Roger's son, something he couldn't even control. Yea he became a pirate and he was a damn good one. Much like that other grandson of yours, that strawhat brat. Are you gonna sit back and watch him die too?!"

"Don't you bring Luffy into this!" Garp growled, his voice dropping even more.

Clenching his fists he sensed his sons coming up behind him. "Take Y/n back home." he spoke in a deep voice, never ceasing his intense stare down with Garp. 

Having stayed behind him the whole time you felt your heart hammering as Ed and the man you had just met who you had heard Ed call Garp argued. You had never seen him so angry looking other than the time he had saved you from that man. There seemed to be this intense aroura coming off both men and it made you nervous. Hearing Marco and the others come up behind you and then Ed tell them to take you back home you furrowed your brows. Tightening your grip on his arm that had been holding you behind his bulk frame you swallowed hard and looked up to the back to his head. "Ed..."

Seeing Garp's eyes glance to the woman behind him he felt his lip lift into a snarl. Giving her hip a small squeeze he rose his chin, "Jozu." he called, knowing the man was bigger than her. 

Being pulled away from him by Jozu no doubt you tried holding onto his arm but he let your hands slip away. Watching as Izo moved to grab the bags left by his father's feet you looked between the two men. "N..."

"It's best to stay out of it Y/n." Marco told her, taking hold of her other hand while Jozu held her arm to pull her back towards the safety of their father's home. 

Getting past the waterfall you heard a loud slam and then a smack, the ground shaking a bit and making you gasp. "B...but will he be okay?" you asked trying to stop and look back towards the man you loved. Yes the other man was smaller but you still didn't want your Ed to get hurt. 

Laughing along with the rest of his brothers Vista pat her arm, "Oh don't you worry about pops Y/n. He didn't get the title of strongest man in the world for nothing."

"Yea and pops never backs down from a fight." Jozu huffed.

Blinking you looked to Vista with wide eyes. "Strongest man in the world?" surely he had to be exaggerating. Seeing them all nod proudly though you could only open and close your mouth, turning your head back to see a cloud of dust flying up here and there, the loud noises still echoing from where you had left. Just who and the hell were you going to marry? You knew Edward but maybe it was time to learn who Whitebeard was.

#Whitebeard #whitebeard one piece #one piece whitebeard #whitebeard x reader #edward newgate #edward newgate x reader #feedback would be appreciated #soulmate au #fluff #so much fluff #big daddy whitebeard

[missymwac]

Why Would I Give You More

My parents both grew up poorer than dirt. Holes in shoes, ketchup sandwiches,  kind of poor. 11 siblings in my mom’s family, 13 in my dad’s. My parents met and married and were still poor. My dad was a newbie in the Air Force and the lack of stripes meant that there was a lack of a lot of things. I recall my mom saying that when my oldest brother was born a year into their marriage, she would take my dad’s paycheck and go to the base commissary and buy everything he needed first: baby food, formula, diapers, clothes, etc…and whatever was left was what she and my dad lived on until the next paycheck. 

And clean. Always clean. Even the ratty old hot barracks they lived in sparkled. One of my mom’s favorite sayings was, “Soap and water cost next to nothing.”

My dad worked hard, adding chevrons to his arm. By the time I arrived, they were living a fairly comfortable middle class life.  Nothing fancy or name brand, but all their needs were met. 

What’s more, I lived in a house where, although we didn’t have a lot, what we had was cared for. My parents insisted on it. In fact, the idea of caring for what you had was a cornerstone of our home, summed up by the quote I can, to this day, hear my mom saying: 

“If you don’t take care of what you have NOW, why would I give you MORE?”

Needless to say, my mom didn’t suffer those who didn’t work hard, those who didn’t care for what they had; those who wasted. I recall living in K.I. Sawyer AFB in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. On our second assignment there, we lived in a neighborhood filled with duplexes. Our adjoining duplex family became great friends, but the neighbor to the left of us, well, my mom just couldn’t. To give you an idea of the wreck that was their home, my mom said, “If it looks like that on the OUTSIDE, can you imagine what it looks like on the inside.”

Mind you, it was base housing meaning it was an IDENTICAL home. It wasn’t like we were in some sort of la-dee-dah house rolling in the dough while the family next door lived in a shed. No, a lovely duplex with hardwood floors that backed up to a wooded area. And yet, that house was a wreck; the kind of house where all the abandoned things found their way into the backyard. 

I hadn’t thought about that house for a long time, but I thought about it today as I drove through a part of my city that is just east of downtown. It’s actually the area my mom grew up in, although, you’d never know it. Like many old neighborhoods in the country, it is a shell of its former self, the kind of neighborhood you think twice about driving through at night. And then your hurt hearts that you had to think twice. 

I noticed there were a few homes that were being cared for: new paint, windows were clean, the yards looked nice. Just a few, but they were there. And it made me happy. I hope it catches on and that neighborhood will once again be filled with people who care. 

And it started me thinking. 

I know. Uh oh. SHE’S THINKING OUT LOUD AGAIN. #sorrynotsorry

How do you MAKE people care? 

And after thinking long and hard, I came up with the answer: you don’t. 

Some people will never care that they have weeds in their yard, weeds that cost nothing to pull.  They will never care that a plastic kiddy pool has been sitting in the front yard for years, a plastic kiddy pool that the city will gladly haul away from the curb for free.  

Simply put, some people will never take care of what they have. 

Some people just won’t care.

And we can spend a whole lot of tax payer money to tackle “inequity,” and Lord knows we have and still do to the tune of roughly $1.03 trillion dollars a year, but the truth is what the truth has always been: you can’t MAKE people care; you can’t MAKE people take care of things; you can’t MAKE people have a good work ethic; you can’t MAKE people spend their money wisely…you simply can’t.

It’s taken me a long time to get to this understanding. My mom, however, got there quick. I grew up comfortably middle class, but the grown woman known as my mother who grew up with holes in her shoes suffered no such nonsense. 

She would swat away excuses like flies. 

The idea of giving more to someone who doesn’t take care of it was absurd, be it an ungrateful child or an ungrateful nation.

 “If you don’t take care of what you have, why would I give you MORE?”

You tell ‘em, mom. 

#childhood #lessons #common sense #poverty #perspective #soap and water #mom truths