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violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months

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Hearts [S. R] part 2

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 3.9k

part 1!

summary: morning coffees become the special moments between you and Spencer, but you also discover that he may have more competition for his love than you expected.

N/A: I never thought this would be so well received and I honestly feel so happy! I am very grateful to all the people who requested a second part, I hope you like it and if you want to tell me something in the comments I will read it with pleasure!

people who might be interested: @c-m-stuff @no-soy-fer @synthsescape @bella-fics @cynbx

That morning Spencer came to his desk with coffee in hand and set it carefully to one side, the sight of his scrawled name looming large throughout.

Spencer <3

What did that mean? It was his name, that's obvious, but it was written with such a careful and clean line that it was very beautiful to admire and the heart drawn next to it was what didn’t quite add up in the whole thing. Reid knew that it was an ideogram used to express the idea of affection or love, so the most logical conclusion was that you were trying to communicate a feeling of that kind, but then he wondered: was it affection between friends? a simple show of affection, he supposed. Nothing further, surely it could not be anything else.

There were days when you and he barely saw each other, as the team had to go out to handle cases in the field and you stayed behind to do literally whatever you could do to complete your service hours, but every morning without fail you looked for him to deliver the long-awaited coffee. You were keeping your promise and for three days you arrived with two cups on the tray, one clean and the other labeled for him: Reid, Spence, Doctor R., all titles followed by a drawing of a heart. When Friday rolled around and you handed him what he thought would be his last cup, you decided to propose a deal.

"Today I was thinking that I could buy your coffee permanently, if you want” you exclaimed kindly, while you watched him from the chair that you had pulled to sit next to him. Some mornings when there wasn’t so much movement you would stay there to drink a few shots of your coffee and share a small moment of the day "It's on my way here and it's obvious that you like it"

“Oh, I… I couldn't even think about it, no. I would take too much advantage of you"

“You're going to pay me back, Reid. I'll just bring it” you laughed, watching him turn red to the ears while he drank a little to try to mask it.

"Then, I'd love to," he exclaimed with a tight-lipped smile. He was a little excited to continue having excuses to talk to you every day and, above all, to drink the delicious coffee that he had already gotten used to.

"Although I'm running out of ideas, to be honest," you said amused, because that day the cup didn’t have any inscription due to that lack of creativity. But as by the work of fate, an idea came to your mind, so you smiled from ear to ear while you took a black marker from your friend's desk and took the cup from his hand. Spencer looked at you carefully and curiously while you were writing and just when you finished Hotch called you from the other side of the tables "I have to go, don't miss me too much" you murmured, handing him the glass and then winking at the boy, who in response only awkwardly raised his hand.

Once you left, he looked at what you had written, less neatly than the other times, and felt himself grinning like a fool:

My fav agent and again that damn heart.

“Y/N”

"Yeah?" you asked, looking up at another of your fellow interns. You had a room where everyone could stay for a while to work on their own business, but on this occasion, curiously, only women had gathered at the table, there were about five of you in the entire building. Among them Jennifer, a girl you liked very much and with whom you could presume to have something like a friendship, and for some strange reason there was also Victoria.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Huh… yeah, I guess" you muttered a bit confused, and even though you didn't know the girl she smiled in your direction.

“Is that brown-haired guy you talk to every morning your boyfriend?”

“Spencer?” you asked, widening your eyes at the surprise with which the question had taken you. You expected her to ask what band you listened to the most, your favorite food, or some other stupid thing, but not that. Now all the girls' attention was on you, including Victoria's inquisitive scowl and Jennifer's amused look “I wouldn't say that”

"And do you think you can introduce me?" she said with more enthusiasm than she intended, and they all laughed collectively.

“I get second in line”

"Girls, girls..." Jennifer intervened and you knew that from that moment the topics of the internship would take a back seat “He may not be her boyfriend now, but that doesn't mean she doesn't want him to be”

"Jenn!"

"Am I lying?" she sneered “You smile every time you see him and you two look so in love whispering to each other every morning. Also, a week ago I saw you go out together at night”

"Jenn," you insisted, muttering to her in the hope that she would notice that you wanted her to shut up. It wasn't that you were ashamed of being associated with him, you just didn't want to spread wrong rumors that might embarrass him.

“How come he's already an agent? He looks very young”

“It's because he's a prodigy, duh. He’s as attractive as he’s intelligent”

"I imagine that being such a smart man he knows perfectly the weak points of a woman" another girl murmured, joining the conversation "If you know what I mean"

“For now we are just friends. That's all" you said trying to end the conversation, completely embarrassed that such a personal matter had ended up as the talk of all the female interns of the FBI. It was supposed to be a serious job and you guys looked like gossipy high school girls.

"Maybe he's waiting for someone better," Victoria said into the air, a venomous tone permeating every word.

"Anyway, if you give up, can you get me his number?" insisted the first girl. You nodded just so as not to break his illusion, but you knew very well that Spencer didn't use a phone beyond what was necessary for work.

Even though you yourself had told him that surely many girls liked him, you didn't expect that he really had admirers so close and to be honest a pang of jealousy invaded you. Victoria was the most obvious of them all, but you knew that being college girls they were more likely to admire the masculine charm of perhaps the youngest member of the FBI. They too were young and beautiful, but you chose to trust that you had the upper hand in winning the man's affections.

You tried as hard as you could to concentrate on your tasks, but now that his name had come up it was hard to think of anything but him. Spencer wasn't a very expressive guy, but you knew that he was comfortable with you or else he wouldn't seek you out or agree to talk to you like you did, although clearly that didn't ensure that he was attracted to you. Maybe he just saw you as a good friend.

At night, when you were about to go home, you tried to look for him so you could see him again with the excuse of saying goodbye, but you were surprised when you saw that he was talking to Victoria in an already empty section. Curiosity to know what they were talking about invaded you and you stood where you were, squinting your eyes to try to read their lips. Reid wasn't participating too much in the chat, you'd even say he looked awkward, but she was shamelessly flirting with him. Perhaps the sudden change in attitude that she had had was what your friend had missed so much and just when you thought of approaching to go save him from the situation, she stood on her toes and crashed her lips against his, leaving you standing just in your place and completely in shock.

You didn't expect her to dare to do something like that, but the reaction he had left you even more surprised, because, although it wasn't so favorable, he didn't seem bothered by the show of affection he had just received either. He just stood in front of her, looking her up and down as if he were analyzing her.

You didn't want to stay there any longer and almost instantly you turned around to walk out the front door, hoping that this had meant absolutely nothing to him and the next day you could look him in the face without feeling the jealousy boiling in your veins.

It was almost time for dismissal when Spencer remembered that he had a file to go through that he'd ignored all morning, and he cursed himself a little for leaving things until the last minute. His coworkers told him that he could finish it the next morning, but he knew that if he did that he probably wouldn't have time to drink coffee with you so he preferred to stay a little later there.

Little by little the offices emptied and when there was almost no one left, he finally finished, feeling the discomfort of the recurring pain in his back due to the bad position in which he sat. He put his things away, put on his coat, and slung his briefcase over his shoulder, ready to go back to his apartment, but a person got in the way when he was about to cross the hall. Due to exhaustion and seeing that it was a female body he assumed it would be you, but when he paid more attention, he noticed that it wasn’t even remotely possible that the ironed black hair was yours.

"Doctor Reid"

"Miss Evans" he greeted her, without losing cordiality, but not with too much emotion either.

"What are you doing here so night?"

"Job. There's nothing else to do around here at this hour,” he said without looking at her. But the girl was determined to get that one-night stand that she was sure you had, lie as it was.

“It's a shame, but I know a bar near here that you might like if you want to have a little fun”

“Bars are noisy and are one of the biggest sources of infection that can exist. Sweat, alcohol, and unknown fluids permeate the environment and it is very probable that the consumption of drugs affects not only those who consume them but also those who are close to them, so I prefer to decline your invitation" he exclaimed, hoping that this explanation would be enough to make it clear to this woman that he wasn't interested.

“So you're more of hanging out in the apartment? I have a lot of great things in mine, including a jacuzzi."

“Jacuzzies are unsanitary” he insisted. If he proposed, he would know that he would find a valid excuse for whatever plan she might suggest.

"What a killjoy, Agent Reid” she giggled, but he wasn't too amused by any of it. "Do you ever have fun?"

"I think my concept of fun and yours diverge a lot" he murmured, still not looking at her directly and ready to end the conversation.

Spencer was about to leave when she raised herself to his height and in a quick movement that caught him off guard, she smashed her lips against his. As she turned away from her the man froze completely in his place, looking at her from head to toe as if she were some strange natural specimen.

"What if I promise there will be more of that?" she asked, in a last-ditch attempt, faking a honeyed voice. He was going to respond when there was something that forced him to look in the direction of the exit door, where someone else was already walking. From the pattern of colored stripes on the jacket he knew it was definitely you and if it was you then you probably witnessed the entire exchange. He felt the urge to run after you to justify himself for something he hadn't even done, not knowing why he was embarrassed or worried that you'd seen that. “Come on, are you really going to say no to all this?”

"Listen to me, Victoria. I understand if having power over others gives you pleasure because you are the least noticed and recognized member of the family, or if you enjoy saying hurtful things to people to feed your own insecurities, but I ask that you please stay away from me and stop trying whatever you're trying. I don't like you, you're a bad person and I won't allow you to kiss me without my wanting it, or to make your sexual advances that won't get you anywhere. So again, I say don't bother me again” he said and without waiting for any answer he walked out of sight of her. Even if he had stayed, Victoria had her ego so hurt that she didn't think of anything to say back and instead she just let helpless tears fill her eyes, followed by a gesture of a tantrum.

When Spencer came downstairs he couldn't find you anywhere and the anxiety in his stomach only increased, wishing he had misrecognized the person who had left so it wasn't about you. The matter didn't keep him awake, of course, but when he noticed the next morning that you weren't at his desk, he thought it was reason enough to worry. Worse still when he noticed that you had left a lonely cup on the table, with absolutely no adorable titles decorating it. It made him feel so guilty, like he somehow knew that you were upset because you'd seen Victoria kiss him the night before and he wasn't worthy of your affection anymore.

Even Hotch noticed that he was more distracted than usual and although he had already seen your exchanges, he thought it would be better not to intervene in anything that had to do with young love. Being a cupid was a more difficult task than the one he already fulfilled at the BAU. So when night came and he didn't look at you anywhere, anxiety was already eating him to the ground, wishing he could have your phone number to at least comfort himself with hearing your voice. Going to your apartment was something he considered, but then it became unthinkable because he didn't even know how you would react.

Victoria became less of a concern as she seemed to get the message perfectly and every time during the day that he crossed her path she just looked away, totally offended.

But when the same situation arose twice, he felt that something was wrong and he wasn't going to endure a third time. It was then that Spencer left the house early that morning to stop by a bakery and buy a couple of fresh sweet buns, hoping that this time you were expecting him. But his disappointment was greater when he saw that once again there was only the bare cup of coffee.

"Didn't you see Y/N?" he asked Elle when he arrived, nervously fiddling with the paper bag he was holding in his hands.

“No, she just left your coffee and left, but I don't know where. She seemed pretty rushed”

Spencer inwardly cursed and sighed in frustration, until a few seconds later he caught sight of you on the other side of the building, carrying a stack of folders and talking on the phone. He didn't hesitate for a moment before running (at first, then he slowed down a bit as he remembered the incessant times Hotch had scolded him for it) towards you so he could finally talk to you.

“Y/N,” he said softly as he reached your side, and he took the bright smile you gave him as you turned to look at him as a good sign.

"Wait a minute" you mouthed, still answering the call you had on the line, and when you hung up you finally turned your attention to him "Hey, Reid. Good morning"

"I bought you this" he murmured, showing you the bag with food inside, and you almost moaned with happiness.

“Food is what I need most to survive the day”

"What are you doing?"

“Two days ago, your boss Gideon thought it was a good idea to make me his personal secretary. So right now, I'll do everything he asks me to do” you snorted, obviously exhausted by the work you had done and by the ones you surely would have to do.

It clicked in the boy's mind and then he understood that this was the reason you hadn't seen it, not because you were angry. Relief ran down the length of his spine.

"Really?"

“I don't even think that's legal, you know? I'm an intern, they don't pay me a penny and they take advantage of me like I earn the same as the fucking president” you complained. Until then he noticed that you were struggling to hold the papers and he decided to stretch out his hands to help you carry them, like a real gentleman "Thank you"

“Where should you take them? I'll accompany you” he offered. You led him through the halls to a file store that even he doubted he knew about, and explained that your job for the next several weeks would be to sort and categorize the case files for a more efficient process of future searches.

“I'm seriously thinking about giving this whole damn thing up and selling hotdogs in some park or whatever. I would be happier and I would earn almost the same” you joked, raising your arms to stretch your back a bit like a cat that had just woken up. The place was completely alone, silent and the lighting was so dim that it even looked gloomy “Did you get my coffees?"

"Yes, I did," he muttered, "I thought you were mad at me though”

"Why?"

"Because..." he hesitated for a moment if it would be wise to mention what he thought was the reason for your anger, until he realized that saying it out loud would simply sound absurd. There shouldn't be a reaction on your part to the facts “you weren't there. And you didn't write anything”

"Oh, I was in a hurry. I'm sorry,” you sincerely apologized. While you were talking to him you thought that you could start to categorize the documents that you would have just brought and you got to it, hoping that he wouldn't interpret that as a sign that you wanted him to leave; luckily Spencer rushed to your side to help you as soon as he could.

"Alright. I'm glad to know you're not upset."

"If I had known that you loved my notes so much, it would have taken me a few seconds" you smiled and when you turned your head you noticed that you were too close to him, or he to you, rather.

You were silent for a few moments until he couldn't take it anymore. He needed to know your opinion about what you had or hadn't seen that night.

"Victoria looked me up the other day," he said disinterestedly. You smiled victoriously for not having to be the first to mention it, even though the matter was slowly burning inside you.

“Oh, I know. I looked at you talking to her” you exclaimed bitterly, without taking your eyes off the files.

"And she too... huh..."

"Calm down" you interrupted him, taking a bunch that were already ordered and moving away from him to take them to a filing cabinet "I saw that too"

“It was so strange”

"It was pathetic," you said without any embarrassment. You finally looked up and noticed some fear in him, as if he thought you meant that he was pathetic "It wasn't even a good kiss"

"And what would one be like?" he replied without thinking. You stifled a laugh and looked at him kindly.

“That's not something I can explain to you, Reid. I would have to show you"

“Well…” he said, finally breaking away from your gaze and staring at you with those big beautiful hazel eyes.

You were surprised that he wasn't averse to it because you honestly didn't expect to achieve anything with that sentence, you just wanted to tease him a bit. Spencer kept looking at you in silence for a few seconds and you knew what that look meant, or at least you thought you did. Those pleading eyes only screamed one thing: show me. Kiss me.

You walked enough steps to close the distance and stand right in front of him, looking down at him with a smile of pure mischief.

“Well, what?"

“Nothing, nothing, I just… I thought you could enlighten me a bit on the subject. As unbelievable as it may seem, I am very uninformed about the standard of what is considered a good or bad kiss” he admitted. Even flirting he sounded like a walking book.

You weren't going to give him time to regret it so you took him by the lapels of his formal shirt and with a yank you pulled him to you. Spencer's breath caught at how sudden the contact had been, and you heard him release the trapped air over your lips, giving you the chance to deepen the kiss. At first he was tense, but after a few seconds you felt his shoulders relax considerably and that's when you slid your hands down the length of his neck until you reached to hold his cheeks. One of your hands left that position only to guide the man's hands to your waist and once you were in this way you took the opportunity to push your body against his a little more, with your torso attached to his. There was no mention of how the tip of your tongue experimentally flicked across his lips and made him sigh audibly.

Spencer nearly whimpered as the heat from your body left his.

“We just shared approximately 80 million bacteria” you blurted out, but he was too flushed and shocked to corroborate denying the information. Just to play with him you decided to give him another kiss, shorter and louder than the previous one "And you just had a good kiss"

You didn't wait for any reaction before separating completely and that made him come out of the trance he was in, still not believing what had just happened. He couldn't even say anything before your phone started ringing with a call.

"I'll see you later?"

"It's up to you," you said with a smile. Spencer nodded and not knowing what else to do he decided to walk out before he could embarrass himself "Oh, and Spence…”

"Yeah?" he answered, trying not to let you notice how it affected him that you called him that way.

“Do you remember the other day when I told you that surely hundreds of girls liked you?” you asked and when he nodded a couple of hairs got messy "Although I'm sure it's true, on that occasion I was only talking about me" you confessed. You couldn't ignore the ringing sound any longer or you'd lose it, so you picked up the hook and started a business conversation, but not before winking at him as a farewell.

Spencer came out of it trying to look as normal as possible, but he still couldn't figure out how he'd have the strength to work objectively for the rest of the day when he'd just gotten such a good kiss from the prettiest girl he'd ever met.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía

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daizymax · 3 months

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the ways we love | lfl (m)

summary: periods of work mean periods without play between you and your longtime boyfriend. after he offers to be the muse for your latest artistic piece, you realize just how much you appreciate his never-ending support.

pairing: felix x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 7.9k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: established relationship; profanity; mentions of alcohol consumption and (past) drunken sex; public marriage proposal; brief mention of having children; graphic sexual content; dom!felix; dirty talk; use of pet names; fingering; some spit play; oral sex (m receiving); some spanking; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms; creampie; aftercare

author’s note: rewritten for stray kids and reuploaded from my old blog. i think this will be the last of the fics from my old blog that i'll be reuploading here for the foreseeable future. also, i forgot how much fun i had writing the smut in this one. hope you enjoy!

( click here to read on AO3 instead )

---

He had started off so well. He was relaxed, comfortable, cheerful. Happy to help. This was his idea, after all.

But now… now he’s fidgety. Anxious and bored. You sympathize with that, but if he doesn’t — “Doll, can you please stop moving?” — then you’re ready to give up this entire project already.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs in that sweet, deep voice of his. “You’re just being so quiet. I thought you’d at least talk to me and let me know how it’s coming.”

You spare him a quick, direct glance before refocusing on the canvas. “I’m not going to give you a play-by-play of every mark I make, Lix. I need to concentrate. I want this to be as perfect as you are.”

Felix huffs and averts his eyes, but you know you have appeased him from the way he falls silent and relaxes his shoulders again. The new pink hue spreading across his freckled nose, ears and cheeks would be a nice touch if only you were ready to add color to the piece. For now, you store the inspirational image away for later.

You manage to finish your outline and flesh out some details around his nose before his real-live self ruins his posture — and subsequently, the lighting on his face — by shifting in his seat yet again. With a sigh, you set your utensils aside, wipe your palms on your pants and say, “How about a break? Let me get you a drink.”

Whatever his answer was going to be — agreement, argument, or otherwise — does not have time to be voiced before you are breezing by him and into the kitchen. When you return, he accepts the glass of water and obeys your command to drink up. You watch as he tips an ice cube into his mouth and licks his heart-shaped lips afterward.

He mistakes your admiration for scrutiny. “What’s wrong?”

You smooth some stray hairs near his ear and poke the bulge of ice in his cheek. “Nothing at all. I just like looking at you.”

He crunches the ice and blushes deeper. “Thanks. Don’t you need to do that from the other side of the room, though? Any idea when you might be finished?”

You shrug and fuss with the collar of his shirt until it un-creases. “You know I can’t answer that. A few hours? Days? Weeks? Whenever I’m satisfied with it. Or whenever you say, ‘Fuck you, I’m done with this.’ I told you I can always just use a photo to finish this so you don’t have to model for me.”

Felix smiles softly. “No, I don’t want you to do that. I volunteered, didn’t I? I like modeling for you. It feels fancy to do it this way, like it might turn out better if we do it like this.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it’ll be so awful you’ll leave me over how monstrous I make you look.”

“Well, at least that would make an interesting story to tell my next girlfriend.”

You giggle. “That’s true. Why don’t I just do a caricature? That way, if it looks bad, I can pretend it was on purpose.”

“No. God no,” he says firmly. “You’re too good an artist to be making pieces look silly on purpose.”

You peck his forehead. “Well, if you want this to be ‘professional,’ you have to sit still for me, doll.”

“I will. I’ll behave.” He tilts his chin to seek out your lips, and you willingly give them up. You smile into the kiss when you see him fumble to set his glass aside on the coffee table beside him without breaking contact with you. Before he can free up his hands to do goodness-knows-what with them, you slink away, back to your easel.

“You just told me you’d behave. If you’re not backing out, then I’m still working, and that means no playing,” you remind him.

He knows, but there is still a hint of disappointment in his dark brown gaze.

These abstinence periods are relatively new to your long-standing relationship. You suppose most people would think a couple purposefully denying themselves sex would tear a wedge of stress and resentment between them, but that has not been the case with you and Felix. It’s a stimulus. A game. A challenging one, to be sure, but always immensely rewarding.

So that is what you have both agreed: there is no sex while you are working on a piece. Not until the job is finished.

“How long do you think this one will take?” Felix asks again.

You plop down in your seat with a light groan and gather your utensils again. “The answer is the same, Lix. I can’t say for sure. A few hours, days, weeks?”

Your pretty muse nods and takes another sip of water as he mentally prepares himself for the oncoming drought. He does his best to relax in his seat again, and you flash him a smile before getting back to work.

---

It takes twelve days to complete the portrait, and Felix is not even sitting across from you when the last stroke falls upon the canvas. He might be offended by this once he finds out, but you couldn’t stop yourself from finishing without him. Besides, you know he will ultimately be as happy as you are that it is finally finished.

Truthfully, you might have been able to do most of the portrait simply from memory; you know his face as well as your own by now.

A sigh flutters past your lips. You take a step back to better admire (and scrutinize) your work. As you scan it over, you can’t help but smile. Not just out of pride for the job you did, but because of the striking resemblance you have been striving to achieve.

It is always difficult to instill life and warmth into mere lines and dots and smudges, but the two-dimensional rendition truly seems as though it could begin breathing at any moment, and a fresh wave of fondness for your best friend and lover as the real-life person he is comes over you. That is how you know you are satisfied, and not just in terms of your finished project.

This is something to celebrate, so after deciding how you want to do so, you pick up your phone to text Felix about an important dilemma.

[You: hey i forgot what you’re wearing today]

There is enough time to change out of your old, splattered overalls and heat up a late lunch before your phone buzzes back.

[Felix: i know it’s been a while since we’ve sexted but i think you meant to phrase that as “what are you wearing” with a smirk emoji]

You almost choke on a bite of your food as you laugh out loud.

You: dfjfdjso i’m not trying to sext you. i just need to know if you’re dressed nicely enough for a restaurant with a decent wine list tonight. we have some celebrating to do

[Felix: how come?]

[You: it’s finished]

This time your phone does not buzz. It rings.

“You finished the portrait?” Felix’s voice is hushed and a little rushed. You can tell he is on the move, probably heading somewhere away from his co-workers and customers for a more private conversation.

“It’s signed and everything,” you say cheerfully.

“That’s fantastic!” he says, not the least bit offended. “This is definitely worth celebrating. We should go to the nicest place in town and dress to the nines.”

More laughter bursts from deep in your chest. “Wha— I mean, it’s still just a portrait, Lix. I didn’t win an award or solve a murder case or anything.”

“So? I” — you hear the sound of a door closing in the background — “sat in that chair for a hundred years and went celibate waiting for that portrait to be done. No offense. This deserves a grand celebration.”

Your eyeroll can probably be heard through the receiver. “It didn’t take that long, did it? It was less than two weeks. Remember that waterfall landscape I did?”

Felix grunts at the memory. “Yeah, how can I forget? Longest month-and-a-half of my entire life.”

“It was worth it in the end, though, wasn’t it?” you say, remembering how neither of you could walk properly for at least a couple days after you finished that particular piece, which is now proudly mounted on a wall in the master bedroom. “Come on, doll. When I pick you up, we’ll go out and have that decent wine with a decent meal so the public knows we’re celebrating something, and then we’ll come home and fuck each other blind, okay?”

There was a time years ago when he might have choked and sputtered over your words, but this lewd proposal is mild, and today he doesn’t flinch.

“If that’s what Madame Artiste wants, then that’s what she’ll get,” Felix says.

He offers you a choice between two restaurants he deems himself dressed appropriately for without having to come home and change, and once you choose, he asks, “Can you just bring my navy suit jacket with you so I can make this outfit work, please? I’ll see you later. I can’t wait.”

He ends the call with the sound of a kiss.

---

The chimes on the door draw the attention of three pairs of eyes, and the sight of you stepping into the salon brings a smile to Felix’s face. Well, the mask on the lower half of his face prevents you from actually seeing his smile, but the happiness is there in his deep brown eyes.

“Hi,” he says, scanning your date-night outfit with obvious appreciation. “Be right with you.”

“Take your time,” you say, smiling at the customer sitting across from him. She smiles back politely and returns her attention to Felix, who goes back to focusing on her fingernails. He meticulously sweeps an emery board across the rounded ruby shapes to finish smoothing them out.

The third person in the salon gets up from his cozy perch in one of the pedicure chairs at the end of the row and crosses the floor.

“You look so nice, Y/N. Is it date night?”

“Yep, we’re off to dinner,” you say, accepting the man’s hug. “What’s new, Ji?”

“Oh, not much.” Jisung shrugs and takes one of your hands. He inspects your fingernails, which have unsightly matte polka dots chipped in the gloss. “Want me to redo these before you go? It won’t take that long.”

You let out a fleeting giggle. “Honestly, I don’t know why I bother getting them done in the first place when I put so much wear and tear on them. This damage only took me a week.”

“Well that’s because—” Jisung shoots your boyfriend a quick look and clearly alters the second part of his statement, “—you did them at home. You need to have them professionally done.”

His way of criticizing Felix’s work while leaving the customer in the room none the wiser is clever, and you have half a mind to applaud him for poking fun at his friend without hurting their business.

The comment is not lost on Felix. He glares over at you and Jisung, but he cannot seem to think of a subtle rebuttal, so he stews in silence.

“Ah, maybe that’s my problem,” you say, grinning.

“Give me, like, fifteen minutes and you’ll be all set,” Jisung promises.

As he’s making his offer, Felix finishes with the woman. From the edge of your vision, you see him remove his mask and lead her to the register to finish the transaction.

“Are you working Saturday morning?” you ask Jisung. “I’ll stop in then and you can do my toes, too.”

Before he can either confirm or deny the appointment, Felix interrupts by coming up behind you and waving his tip in front of your face. “Here, look what my ‘unprofessional’ work got us,” he says. “Buy yourself something nice, baby.”

You chuckle at his little joke until you flick through the bills and realize just how much worth is in them. “Wow, Lix, she was so generous!”

“She was appreciative of the amazing job I did,” he corrects with a peck to your cheek, then he takes his suit jacket from your arms to slip it on. “Sorry, Ji, we have to go. Ready, Y/N?”

“Ready,” you say.

“Sounds good,” Jisung replies at the same time. “I’ll lock up here. Enjoy your date, guys. See you Saturday, Y/N.”

---

The wine is more than decent, the food hits all the right spots, and the company is absolutely perfect.

Felix laughs happily from across the table. Strands of pale blonde hair trickle past his ears the further he tips his head back, and the apples of his cheeks are hued pink from where the rosé has gone. His smile loses none of its dazzle when the waiter interrupts to check on the two of you. The sheer warmth he radiates is boundless in the most endearing way.

When the waiter leaves, you watch Felix lean back in his chair. His eyes land on yours, and while some of the amusement fades from his face, the fondness remains. You see it there, twinkling in the inky pools of his irises; you feel it in the comfort he exudes while he is with you.

For some reason, the contentment of the moment draws something to mind. “Do you remember when we first met?” you ask out of the blue.

The corners of his eyes crinkle. “Of course I do. Remember how you tried to kiss me?”

“Oh my god, yes,” you groan. “Honestly, I still don’t remember a whole lot about that night, but I definitely remember you saying, ‘Oh, no thank you,’ right in my face.”

“Listen,” he laughs in defense, holding up a finger. “I was trying to be polite. I was trying to be a gentleman. You were a hot mess. That party had you twenty so’s-worth of shit-faced.”

“Twenty what?”

“You were so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, soooo…” he starts chanting his stupid joke.

You giggle and hang your head. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“Hang on.” He holds that finger up higher. “So, so, SOOOO—”

“I said I get it already!”

“—so shit-faced. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“You did embarrass me, though! By rejecting me.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he says, dipping his head in apology, “but we both would’ve been way more embarrassed if we’d slept together that night. It would’ve been a disaster.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “What makes you think I would’ve slept with you so soon?”

“Uh. Did you or did you not sleep with my roommate that night instead?”

“Fair enough," you say, toasting your wine glass in his direction. “It’s only funny now because we’re the ones who ended up together.”

Felix smiles. “Thank goodness for that. Life is pretty incredible with you in it, sweetheart.”

His words sober you a bit, and you smile back almost shyly. “I could say the same about you, doll.”

He probably does not always love you as much and as effortlessly as he does right now. He certainly is not always his best, most charming self the way he is right now. Neither are you. But he is still worth loving when he is at his worst, and if you could have moments like these scattered all throughout the rest of your life, you feel it would be enough. His love and support and respect and admiration are more than enough.

So it comes as a soft entreaty rather than a question; out of the blue again, but also a long time coming: “Please marry me.”

This time Felix raises an eyebrow. He seems more intrigued than surprised by your impromptu proposal. Then he half-purses, half-pouts his lips in a cheeky sort of expression, like he thinks you’re bluffing but is willing to play along anyway.

That feeling of overconfidence you had that first drunken night when you leaned in to kiss him in a stranger’s kitchen comes back, as does the fear of the rejection you suffered immediately afterward. If he says ‘Oh, no thank you,’ again, you wonder if you’ll die of embarrassment right here in this restaurant, surrounded by different strangers with different alcohol on your breath.

But you know he won’t, not even as a joke, because he knows you now. He knows you well, and he sees the sincerity in your face.

“I don’t have a ring,” you go on, “but I’ll get down on one knee right here, right now. This dress won’t stop me.”

Wordlessly, Felix lifts his napkin from his lap to lay it across his plate, then leans sideways to pull something from his pocket. He casually holds it up for your inspection, and once you realize what it is, you move to kneel in front of him as promised without even questioning the coincidence. Now is not the time for questions. Now is the time to show how serious you are about this.

Felix stares down at you and pries open the tiny case to reveal the brilliance of the diamond’s sparkle. Your fingers are sure and steady when he slips the top-heavy band onto the appropriate one.

“I would be honored to marry you,” he says softly, poking back and forth at the engagement ring with the edge of his thumbnail.

By now there are dozens of eyes on the quiet scene the two of you are making, but his are the only pair you see. His smile is still there, softer and smaller now, but still brimming with the adoration he has gained over the years. It widens when you rise up just enough to press your lips to it. His hand finds the back of your head the same second yours cups his.

A round of coos and charmed applause from the crowd goes up around you, but it is all background noise to the sound of Felix’s precious, giddy laughter.

---

He is no longer laughing by the time you throw the front door shut and press him up against it. The needy kisses between here and the car have taken most of his oxygen.

“Shit,” he hisses, watching you work his belt buckle. “You get a ring on your finger and you turn feral, is that how it works?”

You growl playfully but say nothing.

“You better slow down, tiger, or we won’t last five minutes.”

“Don’t care.”

“Aren’t you gonna show me what we waited so long for this for first?”

“Later. I thought you were dying of celibacy?” you sass.

Felix clicks his tongue. The simple sound is quiet, but it shifts the air. You stop trying to get into his pants to give his dark eyes your undivided attention.

“We have all the time in the world now, don’t we?” he murmurs, as though the hard-on in his jeans is not growing as impatient as you.

You swallow. “I just want you so badly. It hurts.”

His gaze sharpens at your tone. “Does it?” He reaches up to graze a thumb along your bottom lip. “Where does it hurt, sweetheart? Here?”

The sound you let out is something between a hum and a whine. You feel so sex-starved, so desperate for any morsel of pleasure he can feed you. You try to take his thumb into your mouth, but he slips it away too fast, plucking your lip as he goes. He brushes across your breast next. The sensation is dulled by your clothing, but your nipple stands to attention nonetheless.

“What about here?” he whispers.

“Yes…” The fingers that had been so keen on removing his belt cling idly to the leather.

“Aw.” Felix pouts and bats his eyelashes at you, but his sympathy feels insincere. He’s amused by the state of you. He adores seeing you so riled up and pliant for him.

His thumb trails further, straight down your stomach, while the rest of his fingers are kept stiff and carefully away from your buzzing body.

Eventually, he reaches the crease between your thighs and presses through the layers of your dress and your panties where he estimates your clit to be. He is a little north at first but quickly readjusts his position. The soft moan you let out is a dead giveaway for when he has found it.

“And here?” He takes a step closer while he begins drawing tiny circles. “Tell me, angel, does it hurt here?”

“Yes. Yes...”

He kisses your cheek tenderly. Mercifully. His deep voice is pitched even deeper when he murmurs, “Shh. I know it does. It’s finally time for me to make it better, isn’t it.”

You cant your hips against his hand. “Felix, please...”

“Come here.”

He trades places to cage you up against the front door. You reach for him, but he draws back out of reach to shrug out of his jacket first. After he carefully pushes the sleeves of his sweater up, he uses both hands to hike your dress up along your waist. There is no rush to his movements. In fact, it’s almost graceful the way he does it, as though the actions he is about to perform could be considered decent.

When you try to remove your underwear from his way, he nudges your hands aside. “Ah-ah-ah,” he tuts. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves. Tell me the safe word first, Y/N.”

After all this time, he still has you say it out loud beforehand. Beneath your eager lust, you appreciate the basic act of care and commitment to playing the dominant role.

“Candle,” you answer.

He thanks you as though you’ve done him a favor and places a light kiss on the edge of your jaw. Then he hooks his thumb through the side of your panties to touch the hood of your bare clit directly. A jolt of electricity singes your nerves from his first flick. Your body noticeably quivers, and Felix smirks at his quick, effortless effect on you.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he drawls lowly.

You swallow again, drier this time. “Mm-hm.”

“Because we don’t play while you’re working anymore, do we?”

You shake your head. “Hm-mm.”

“And you’ve been working so hard, haven’t you, baby?”

You hum again, louder this time. Or maybe it’s a full-blown moan. Whatever the sound is, it becomes incessant over each passing second and each pass of his thumb. Every noise you make is met with a return sigh or hum from Felix. Every jerk of your hips is matched by a tilt of his head or other shift in his posture.

Getting fingered like this, fully dressed and up against the front door of your home, spikes a carnal, filthy pleasure into your blood. It sears through your muscles, hotter and hotter until it beads between your skin and your clothes. You want to take them off, but you dare not stop Felix for a second. You keen with lust and desperation.

“I know. I know,” he purrs, soft and sweet as a kitten. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so good...” He nuzzles the space between your jaw and your neck and inhales deeply.

You tilt your face away to give him better access, but he peels back and takes your chin in his other hand to steer you back toward him. A puff of hot breath hits your damp temple; it almost feels cool.

“Eyes on me. Good girl.” His gaze skims down your form. “You’re still shaking. All I’ve done is touch your clit and you’re that close already, huh?”

“Yes, so close,” you admit, completely unashamed. “Just keep going, please just keep going.”

Felix smiles and takes the sweat from your temple with a pair of kisses. “How can I say no when you beg me so nicely like the perfect angel you are? Hold onto me. C’mon.”

You instinctively go to clutch his biceps but think of a better idea and hook your arms around his neck instead. Felix allows you to pull him even closer and finally — finally — slips another finger into your panties. He pushes it into your opening with almost no resistance, and you gasp when his knuckles bottom out inside you. Just as quickly as the finger entered, a second one joins and curls. He keeps them buried for a moment, then drags them back out to smear the juices he collected around your swollen bud. The slipperier his work gets, the more he enjoys it.

“Your pussy is so perfect,” he breathes. “Spread your legs. I want to feel just how wet it gets for me.”

You obediently open your legs wider, and he delves back in immediately, fast enough that his palm audibly claps against your slick lips, hard enough to send your head tipping backward to thump against the door. When his thumb drops back to your clit and nudges under the hood this time, you know it won’t be long until you’re unraveled.

“Ohhh my god,” you groan. More sweat builds on your forehead, on your chest, under your arms, along the backs of your knees. You grow lightheaded from the static in your veins from being fucked open by Felix’s talented, diligent fingers.

“That’s it,” he pants. You’re not sure when he became so breathless. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let go. Come for me. Come for me. Come.”

Another dozen strokes and you do as you’re told with a pinched yelp. Felix kisses your throat as he works you up your high and eases you back down, undulating his wrist and babbling encouragements into your sticky skin.

“That’s it, squeeze my fingers, just like that. Squeeze ‘em tight. Tight. There you go. That’s my good girl. So gorgeous when you come. So fucking perfect. Hey.”

The hand not still knuckle-deep in your pussy cups your cheek and pulls you in. He swallows the whines and the airless, nonsensical words of thanks you huff between kisses.

Once your breathing has had time to settle, he gingerly slips his fingers from your sensitive, throbbing walls. He doesn’t even look at those fingers as he brings them to his tongue. In fact, he closes his eyes altogether as he laps the tips and moans indulgently, as though this is the first time he has ever tasted you.

When he is done cleaning the mess you made on him, he looks you in the eye and says, “Now that we’ve rubbed out that easy one, I’m open to suggestions on what to do next.”

“Let me return the favor?” You inflect it as a question.

Felix smirks. “It wasn’t a favor, sweetheart, it was a pleasure. But since you’re asking so nicely again… c’mere.”

He tugs you by the hands and begins walking backward, slipping out of his shoes as he goes, and you follow his lead. You assume he is bringing you to the bedroom, but he stops when his feet hit the carpet in the living room and glances over his shoulder. It must be the chair he was looking for because he then moves toward it with a sense of purpose, leaving you a few paces behind.

“Strip,” he orders. His voice is even and his expression is calm as he sits and crosses an ankle over his opposite knee.

You move to obey without hesitation, twisting your arm behind your back to yank down the zipper on your dress. Felix keeps his eyes fixed on your face as you peel the gown away from your shoulders. Gravity takes the fabric to your waist, and you shove it down the rest of the way to step out of it completely. Next, you snap one of your bra straps with an eyebrow cocked in question.

Felix nods. “Mhm. Keep going ‘til you’re in nothing but that ring.”

You had nearly forgotten about it. You lift your hand to look at it again, but a sudden noise startles you. It sounds like more of a crack than a snap from the way it ricochets off the walls of your home, though you know a snap is exactly what it was by the pose of Felix’s fingers in the air.

“Don’t get distracted now,” he says, deep voice rumbling. He drops his hand back to his lap. “You’re being so good. Finish taking off your clothes, then come here.”

With his instructions, you unhook your bra and let it drop to the floor. His eyes dip to your naked chest, but his expression is more clinical than enticed.

You shove your thumbs into the band of your panties and stall there until you get the attention you want. It takes Felix a few seconds to realize you’re not moving and look back to your face. When he meets your eyes, he mouths the word ‘off,’ leaving his teeth planted in his bottom lip for an extended moment. Even when he is silent, you feel the authority radiating from him. You shiver when the air hits your slick, heated center.

Felix uncrosses his legs, and you finally glean a proper peek at your effect on him. The erection in his pants looks past the point of painful, but his demeanor is still relaxed as he invites you to stand in front of him by casually tossing a throw pillow at his feet. Once your toes brush against it, he reaches for your hands and sweeps his lips across your knuckles, quick and affectionate. Then his hands are on your waist, and near your ribs, and around the curves of your ass, and across your thighs. He soothes them up and down your skin, imprinting patches of heat everywhere he roams.

“There’s my gorgeous girl.” He leans forward and plants an open-mouthed kiss on your lower stomach, then peers up through his eyelashes at you and directs, “On your knees for me, gorgeous.”

Another look at his covered crotch and you do as you’re bid. When your knees touch down on the pillow, Felix shifts to whip his belt out of its loops at last. By the time it clanks to the floor, you’re already helping him with the button and the zipper. He lets you tug his pants down to and away from his ankles. His socks go next, and he takes care of his sweater and undershirt himself. His underwear is last but gone in a flash and then there he sits, stripped bare with his toned abdominals twitching and his cock standing flushed and rigid just for you. He is so goddamn beautiful.

“Is this what you want?” He leans back and takes his rosy length in a loose fist. “Is this what you’ve been being so good and working so hard for?”

You swallow and pretend it’s his precum sliding down your throat. “Yes.”

“What’s that, baby?” He strokes upward.

“Yes.”

“What do you say?” He strokes downward. Back up again. Your eyes may as well be stringed puppets with the way they follow helplessly.

“I said yes,” you repeat again.

And he patiently repeats: “No, what do you say? Look at me.”

Once you meet his lust-glazed stare, you don’t have to wrack your brain for the answer he’s looking for.

“Please,” you say, “let me suck your cock. I want it so badly. You deserve to feel good after waiting so long.”

Felix tucks his chin down, puckers his lips, and releases a ball of spit onto the head of his cock. Another soon follows, racing alongside the first, joining the trail of wetness that already leaked from the slit.

You shuffle closer between his knees and take him in your hand. He lets go of himself, but not before brushing his fingertips along the back of your hand. The gesture is deliberate, not coincidental, and you smile up at him. He smiles back, more with his eyes than his mouth. His mouth is used to give commands such as, “Put it in your mouth, sweetheart,” before leaning back comfortably. Even with his pulsing erection at your mercy, he is a marvel of beauty and dominance.

You give him a few strokes to spread the wetness around and simply enjoy the slick glide, then bend to take in his wet tip. He tastes delicious. Good enough for you to moan on contact, good enough for you to want to fill your entire mouth with his warm heaviness. He is tangy from his natural body and sweet from the taste of wine lingering in his spit. You sink down further, letting your tongue follow the path of a prominent vein.

“Open wide. That’s it,” he says. His voice is steady but barely there. The relief of finally being touched where he wants it most runs a succinct shiver through his legs, but otherwise he remains controlled, even when you tighten your lips to hollow your cheeks. “There you go. So good for me. So good at sucking my dick.”

His praise leaves you hungry for more, so you slather your tongue down and around his balls to hear the way his sighs and quiet pants start to crack his composure. He shifts his hips to ensure you can reach every sensitive part of him, and his cock feels just a bit stiffer when you try to swallow it down your throat.

“Hah,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck, baby, that’s it.”

On the armrest of the chair, his fist clenches tight enough to pop a knuckle. He soon releases it, however, and moves his hand toward you. You half-expect him to hold you in place because you know how much he enjoys being in your throat, but instead, he eases you off of him and uses his loose grip on the top of your head to roll it back in a slow, gentle circle along your neck and around your shoulders. A strand of spit — there is no way to tell whether it is yours or his — still bridges your lips to his swollen cock. You reach out to break it with your tongue, curling it devilishly. Felix watches with dark, hooded eyes.

“Dirty girl.” He wipes away the dribble on your chin with his thumb. “Where do you want it?”

You don’t quite understand his question. “Hm?”

Once again, he takes your hands in his, this time to help you up off the floor and onto his lap where he can sling your arms around his neck. The only conceivable reason for him to cut a blowjob so short is that he is already too close to coming. You won’t call him out on it, but you’re thrilled to know it’s true.

“I asked you where you want it. Where do you want me to fuck you?” His vulgar inquiry is warm honey on your tongue. “You want me to take you up against the wall? Fuck you so good and so hard that you can’t fucking walk in the morning? Hm?” His hum vibrates your lips with the sweetest melody. “Do you want me to take you in our bed, under the sheets, nice and slow, until you can’t remember your own name?” His lips are a soft, decadent treat you sink your teeth into. “Or do you want me to take you in this chair, right here where I sat while you were across the room working for hours and hours instead of bouncing on my dick?” His perfume is a laced drug that could leave you high in bliss for hours.

“Yes,” you breathe into his mouth. You pull at his lips, molding and folding them with yours while you feel up every inch of his skin you can reach — his jaw, his back, his arms, his chest, his stomach.

Felix relinquishes a shred of his control with a groan as he ravishes your lips right back. His own hands crawl along your shoulder blades, your spine, your ass. Eventually, he clears his head well enough to say, “That’s not an answer, sweetheart. You need to tell me right now where you want to fuck, or I’m choosing for you.”

“Here. Chair. Now,” you rasp brokenly.

He hoists you up right away, perching your ass halfway onto one of his forearms and using his other hand to drag his swollen, spongy cockhead through your folds until he finds your entrance. The tip slips inside with a stretch but little resistance, as does the rest of him until your lap and his are pressed flush against one another’s.

You rock your hips slowly to welcome the intrusion and ensure he is as deep and you are as full as possible, and his breath hitches from the movement. He lowers his eyes in a straight path from your eyes to your nose to your chin. His lips part as though he is going to say something, but after a couple seconds, he leans forward to give you another searing kiss instead, bracing a hand against your spine to keep you from tipping backward from the sudden motion.

Whatever he was going to say about how good it feels to be sunk in your wet heat again is conveyed through his tongue on yours and the way he clutches your bare skin.

Just when you think perhaps all his words have dried up, Felix sucks his mouth off yours, lays a slap across your ass, and grunts in deep bass: “Bounce for me, baby.”

You would love nothing more than to do just that, so you build up a steady pace as quick as you can. He is just thick enough to rub your walls and make them burn in the best way imaginable. The smacks that come from your pelvis and thighs meeting his over and over are lewd and wet and so fucking good. So fucking good.

You shut your eyes and hang your head back. “Oh my fucking god…”

Felix keeps an arm hooked around your moving waist while he paws at you from the front. He splays his free hand across your throat, applying just enough pressure to get a feel for your erratic pulse, then slips down your collarbone, down your chest to squeeze one of your tits.

“That’s it, baby. This is what we’ve been missing, isn’t it?” He lifts your breast and leans forward to wrap his lips around the perked nipple. The sensation makes you involuntarily clench around him, and he whimpers from the tightness. “Fuck, I’ve missed this so much.”

His admission spurs you to speed up. You try to roll your hips at the bottom of every drop, but your movements are getting sloppier the higher your pleasure climbs. It doesn’t seem to matter to Felix, though. His ragged breathing is a telltale sign of how good it feels to have your soaked pussy dragging up and down his cock. He tries to find your staggered rhythm in order to buck upward in time with your drops and help drive himself into your sweetest spot, but although both of you are hyper-concentrated on reaching your peaks, the coordination is not quite there.

“Sweetheart, you’re falling apart on my dick,” he moans with the little breath he has. “Jesus, you’re squeezing me so goddamn tight. You’ve already come once and now you’re about to soak my whole fucking lap, aren’t you?”

“Lix, I-I’m s-s-so-” you trill mindlessly.

“So close, I know.” He gives the fleshiest part of your ass another solid slap, then digs his fingers in to help you rock back and forth against him. “Do it. Come again on my fucking cock, baby. We’ve earned it.”

You work to get all the friction the ridges of his raw cock can give you, but the edge you’re chasing is still on the horizon, just a bit too far out of reach. “Felix, I can’t…”

“I’ll get you there,” he swears. “Let’s just—”

In no time, you’re on your back on the floor and Felix is plunging his steely length back between your drenched folds. Your legs automatically anchor themselves around his hips to steady yourself against the jarring pace he sets. The aftermath of the rough carpet on your bare skin is a worry for a later. Right now, you whine at him to go faster, go harder, just don’t fucking stop, whatever he does.

Felix leans close and takes one of your knees to push it back toward your chest so he can fuck into you deeper. His breath is hot and shaky and somewhere in the vicinity of your earlobe as he whispers, “Fuck, you’ve gotta come now, angel. Please.”

He readjusts his weight and his grip on you, pushes deep just a few more times, and you’re finally coming again, crying out and clenching around him so tight it nearly hurts from how hard he is inside you. He fucks you through your entire high, never stopping the solid snap-snap-snap of his slim hips.

“God, fuck, I’m right fucking there,” he huffs and pants. Sweat drips from his brow onto your cheek. “Where do you want it? Where should I come?”

“In me, come in me,” you beg, reaching down to squeeze his tight ass and urge him even deeper into your soaked depths.

Felix whines something wordlessly lyrical in a high alto as his release fills you with a sticky warmth. He fucks his cum into you with rough, staggered thrusts, his pace slowing but never completely stopping. Your legs begin to ache as he continues gingerly pumping himself. You assume his spent cock must hurt from the rising sensitivity following his orgasm, but he is not quite finished.

“Holy shit,” he whimpers. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight, I think I could come again.”

Your walls clench around him because you know he is serious. “Do it, baby,” you pant hard. “Use my pussy to come again. I want it all.”

“Yes, yes, yes. Just a little more, I’m gonna— fuck!”

He finds a second shaky high and buries his fingers in your hips deep enough that the bruises may last until your wedding day. The force with which he pulses a final spurt of cum toward your cervix is something you’re certain to remember for a long time as well.

“Holy shit,” Felix sighs again, blissful and fucked out. The two of you moan together when he slips out of you, still half hard. “Come here, angel.”

He slumps to the side and gathers you in his arms to face him. You tuck your forehead between his jaw and his shoulder, and he traces his fingertips along your shoulder blades where the skin is a little irritated from its row with the carpet. You’re not worried about the sting, but your nerves wince under his touch anyway, and he apologizes immediately.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re not an idiot,” you giggle tiredly. “We’ve had worse rug burn before. Much worse.”

“I know, which means I know better than to have sex on the carpet.” He kisses your forehead and sweeps a thumb across your cheek. “I shouldn’t have gotten so caught up, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you insist. “Being fucked into the carpet never felt so good.”

Felix laughs quietly, deeply. “It was definitely worth the wait. I haven’t come twice in a row like that in a while.” His sigh is exhausted but pleased; his hug is weak but loving.

After a moment of recovery, he helps you stand and urges you to use the bathroom and change into something comfortable, and you agree on the condition he does the same.

Before you dress, he peppers sweet kisses along your lightly scraped skin and helps you apply lotion over it. He also insists that you drink at least half a glass of water to rehydrate yourself before you both return to the living room so you can finally show him what the two of you have been celebrating in the first place. He massages the back of your neck soothingly as you walk side by side.

“Alright, now I’m actually really proud of this, but you still need to be honest with me, okay?” you preface. Without waiting for him to respond, you whip the sheet covering the easel away with a flourish.

The moment it is revealed, Felix eyes dart over the portrait in patternless directions. You want to see inside that pretty head of his to know every thought going through his mind while he examines your depiction of him, but you can’t, so you keep your eyes trained on his pensive face and wait quietly for him to share whatever feedback he chooses.

“Y/N,” he eventually begins. You can’t tell if the hush in his tone is because he is awed or appalled.

“Yes?”

Felix turns to look you in the eye. “How do you keep outdoing yourself?”

A note of laughter pops past your lips, and the nervousness in it surprises you. “Well, you know what they say about practice. Does that mean you like it?”

“Are you kid— I love it! I don’t even know where to begin! The detail, Y/N! It’s so—” He faces his two-dimensional self again and waves his hand through the air in front of the canvas in a gesture you have no idea how to interpret. Then he extends a single finger toward the bottom edge of the canvas. “Like right here. The shadowing is so good. And the way you did the lighting here...” He lifts his finger higher to point at his painted cheekbones. “You did my freckles so well, I wouldn’t even be surprised if you captured literally every single one of them. It’s, like, scary good. And I don’t know if this is technically a critique towards the realism, but I don’t think my hair has ever actually looked this good in real life.”

You laugh louder, more happily. “I do think I did a pretty good job, but your real life self is way better than this, doll. Trust me.” You tuck a lock of hair behind his ear, and he brings his face back around to look at you again.

“I don’t even know what else to say without sounding dumb about it,” he tells you. It is not often he sounds bashful around you anymore, but he does now. “I’ll have to keep processing it. But in my unprofessional opinion, to my untrained, non-artistic eye, I’d say this is certifiably amazing work, sweetheart.”

You touch his cheek. “As long as you don’t feel like leaving me over it, you don’t have to say anything else.”

Felix takes your other hand and kisses the center of your palm, then each of your fingertips separately, then the ring between your knuckles.

Tomorrow, you’ll ask him for the story of how he happened to have it in his pocket tonight. Saturday, when Jisung sees it on your finger, you’ll ask his advice on how you should do your nails for the wedding (though you’ll probably end up having them done by your groom anyway). Next week, you’ll ask Felix what time of year he has in mind for the ceremony, or if he even wants to make a big pageantry of it. The week after that, you’ll either start looking into wedding venues or making an appointment with City Hall.

And years from now, when your children ask you about the portrait you painted of their father, you’ll tell them you did it because he was always your biggest supporter, and you’ll be reminded just how in love the two of you were tonight.

---

if you enjoyed, please consider re-blogging and/or leaving me some feedback. take care! ♡

#felix smut #lee felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #the ways we love #daizymax

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casuallyawkardd · 4 months

Text

In His Vice

Pairing: Dark!Miguel O'Hara x Wife!Reader

Summary: Something seems different this time when Miguel comes home late

Warnings: non-con in terms of pretending to be someone else, lowkey gaslighting, me attempting to write suspense, not fluent in Spanish so correct me if I mess up

A/N: I made the executive decision to write this fic in a first person perspective because I feel like that adds to the horror aspect so don't come for me. If you enjoy, be sure to join the taglist! Dividers by cafekitsune

I could hear the wind outside, whistling as it shook the trees and bushes. When the weather woman had said there would be a storm tonight, I hadn't expected it to be this bad. Lightning could be seen in the distance, the sound of thunder following after. It took a second more this time, hopefully meaning the storm was going to pass quickly. The television had become background noise, my attention focused on the window as I watched the rain streak down the glass.

Today had been one of those days, the kind where I couldn't wait for it to be over. I had woken up on the wrong side of the bed, a recurring nightmare waking me at three in the morning; its contents making it difficult to fall back asleep, so I inevitably decided to start the day early. Coffee and an aspirin did little to help the headache I'd been developing over the last few days, deadlines at work materializing the throbbing just behind my eyes.

Miguel had seemed to take notice of my struggles, taking over breakfast duty and getting Gabriela ready for school. The feeling of his kiss still lingered on my temple, my fingers now massaging the spot absentmindedly.

"I'm gonna be a little late tonight," he told me, gently prying the emptied mug from my hands and taking it to the sink with the other dishes.

"But what about Gaby's soccer game?" I asked, the look of remorse on his face telling me he had forgotten. "Honey, this is the one that determines if they qualify for the championship. It's a big deal for her."

"I know, mi corazón," he soothed, but I pulled away from his touch. Quiet fell over the kitchen then, Gaby's happy giggles heard from the room over. "Y/N, look at me," he said and I reluctantly turned. Soft brown eyes looked back at me, the hand rubbing my back reassuring. "You know work's been hell lately, my boss really wants me to finish this project. After that, I promise I'll make it up to you and Gaby." That's what he always said. "I know things have been.. tense between us lately, but-"

"Let's not talk about this right now," I interrupted him, hiding the pang in my chest when a look of defeat crossed his features. I had every right to be mad at him. This wasn't the first time he had forgotten. It wasn't just about this soccer game, it was about every forgotten soccer game, birthday party and date night before. Was I happy my husband had gotten the promotion he rightly deserved? Of course, but had I known just how much his job would take away from our family, I would have suggested he negotiate terms.

Which was why I held my tongue as he and Gaby left the house. In hindsight, I could've been kinder to Miguel. Could have turned my head as he leaned in for a kiss, said 'I love you' when he whispered the same phrase in my ear. With no way to turn back time, I figured I could redeem myself tomorrow. He was always quick to forgive.

The rest of the day was as mundane as any, the stress from the deadline had seeped into my very being, becoming familiar as I submitted my final drafts. Then I was left with nothing, returning to the start of the vicious cycle that came with the job. At least I got to clock out early, meaning I had time to spend with Gaby.

She was a bundle of excitement, squealing when she saw I had come to pick her up early from preschool. Relatives always told me she'd grow up fast; I found that to be true. Expected to start kindergarten next year and she was already being mistaken for a second grader. Her father's doing most likely, maybe she'd end up being as tall as him someday. Sharp as a whip too, but that trait I always said came from me.

We decided on a mommy-daughter date at a nearby cafe, one I knew Gaby would like. The owner's cat loved to brush against her legs, mewling until I told her it was alright to give him a dollop of whipped cream. Keep her happy until she saw her papi wasn't at her game. She was disappointed, the bounce in her step fading when she came up to me afterwards, frowning in confusion.

"Papi?"

"Not today, sweetheart," I offered her a sympathetic smile, "work needed his help very badly. You understand, yeah?"

Gaby nodded, but I knew my daughter well enough to know she was still bothered, "I wanted to show Papi that I used the move he showed me."

"Well you can show him after dinner, right?" The idea seemed to help perk her up, the two of us walking hand in hand back to the car to head home.

Only Miguel didn't make it home for dinner. Odd but not uncommon, unfortunately. It wasn't until it neared Gabriela's bedtime that I felt something was wrong. He's always home in time to put her to bed. A nagging feeling started in the back of my mind. He wasn't answering his cell either, going to voicemail instantly. After promising Gaby that I'd send him in to kiss her goodnight later, she finally settled and I took my post on the couch. Which is where I've been up until now.

A quick glance at my phone told me it was nearing one in the morning, that nagging feeling became something more. Something that dug into my gut and constricted my chest. The amount of missed calls he had was probably bordering on the edge of warranted worry and psychotic spouse. The thought of calling the police made my fingers itch, but I abstained. Miguel's a big guy, he can take care of himself...right? I winced as my teeth bit into the skin around my fingernails, pulling my hand away to assess the damage. It was a nervous habit I couldn't seem to shake, the cuticles an ugly red from irritation.

Then came the sound of a click, followed by the ominous crash of thunder. It was quiet, I almost didn't notice, but it was a new sound compared to the rain, thunder and static of the TV. My heart lurched forward, taking me with it as I rushed to the entry hallway. In the dark, I could make out a figure. Large and imposing, it hunched in front of the main door of the house, grunting as it shifted about in the black of the hall. I had become so paranoid that the sight left me momentarily speechless, throat suddenly dried when I tried speaking.

"Miguel?" was what I managed to get out.

The movements stopped, tension rising around me as the figure stood to its full height. I almost back pedaled as it approached, step by agonizing step coming closer and closer to me. The air around me felt thick, hard to breathe until the glow of the TV revealed this intruder.

"It's you," Miguel's voice rattled my eardrum, reminding me to breathe. "Why are you still up?"

"Where have you been?" I demanded, forcing my voice to remain at a reasonable volume. "Do you know how late it is?"

Miguel's expression hardened, not answering me right away and keeping me on the edge of my seat. I searched every inch of his face for a reason, a tell to let me know what had kept him, and yet I saw nothing. Why did I still feel so uneasy? "There were some complications at work," he explained, "It took some time to fix. I figured you'd be asleep by now, so I grabbed something to eat after everything was sorted."

"And that took you until one in the fucking morning?"

"Didn't know I had a curfew." He said it so bluntly, almost accusatory. The eyes that looked into mine were unyielding, wanting no question or fuss to his response. Not to push that which was unmovable. It wasn't an expression I was familiar with, at least from him, the glint of affection that lingered no matter how mad he got at me now snuffed.

"I..." I trailed off, unsure what to say next. The whirlwind of thoughts and emotions collected within me had me feeling unhinged. Was I being crazy? "I'm sorry, I was just worried about you," I settled on, swallowing thickly so my throat had lubrication.

"Where's Gaby?"

The question gave me pause, his evident impatience spouting words from my mouth. "Oh! Um... she's in bed," Miguel didn't seem impressed by my answer, "u-upstairs," I pointed in the direction mentioned.

"Mmm," was all he responded with, leaving me to shuffle out of the way as he beelined to the staircase. Then I was left alone once again, the suddenness of it making me wonder if I had just dreamed everything. The heavy footsteps above my head confirmed that our interaction was all too real, another crack of thunder giving my body the jumpstart it needed. All was well now right? That's what I told myself as I folded the blanket I had been using, shutting off the TV and making my way up to the second floor.

Miguel's home now, Gaby's in bed, everyone is safe and sound. I thought as I passed by my daughter's room, catching a glimpse of her father sitting beside her bed. I repeated it as I got myself ready for bed, brushing my teeth and washing my face of any leftover makeup. My pajamas were one of Miguel's t-shirts and I tucked my nose under the collar as I lay down, letting the smell of him ease my lingering nerves. There was nothing more to worry about, everything would go back to normal tomorrow.

The sun woke me up, bright rays peeking through the curtains. Blinking away the haze of sleep, I still felt restless. The nightmares again, most likely. A nuisance that was bold enough to show itself in the night, but cowardice in that I'd forget them in the morning. As I wiped my eyes, the clock on my nightstand became readable.

7:30 AM

Overslept. It was what I needed to get me out of bed, rushing as I did the bare minimum to look presentable. Cold water to wash my face, teeth brushed, hair pulled back and managed, some sweatpants and slip-ons for good measure. Thank God I worked from home.

Gaby was next on my radar, moving quickly down the hall and rapping on her door with my knuckles. Opening my mouth to tell say it was time to get up, the words left me when I saw she wasn't in bed. Come to think of it, Miguel hadn't been in bed either. Did he even come into the room last night? Shaking my head to clear the thought, the sound of dishes clattering drew me to the kitchen. As I descended, the smell of pancakes was clear, the sound of quiet chatter and little giggles following after.

"Papi, quiero voltear el siguiente." Papi, I want to flip the next one.

The baritone of Miguel's laugh followed after, "Lo sé chiquita, pero debes tener cuidado." I know little one, but you have to be careful.

The sight of my husband and daughter making a mess of the kitchen was touching, last night's events feeling like a distant memory. Almost. To think those cold, hard eyes that had pierced through my very being, were now looking down with such warmth and tenderness.

"Mommy!" Gaby spotted me in the doorway, squeezing between Miguel and the counter to come greet me.

"Well, good morning to you too," I cooed, bending forward so we were eye level. Her arms wrapped around my neck in an embrace, my lips finding purchase on her cheek before returning the gesture with one arm. "What do you have going on here?" I asked once we had parted, smoothing down her curls.

Gaby shrugged, "I wanted pancakes," was her simple response. "You were sleeping, so Papi said he could make them."

I looked up at the man in question, who seemed more occupied with what was cooking on the stove than what we were discussing. "And they haven't burnt?" I teased, approaching him from behind. My hand touched the small of his back, thumb rubbing small circles into the muscle as I looked over his shoulder to analyze the aforementioned pancakes.

"I know how to make pancakes," Miguel quipped back, his tone suggesting I might have struck a nerve.

"Of course you do. It's just that last time-"

"I said I got it."

"Okay," was all I could really say, kissing his shoulder apologetically. "You're tense, Mig. You should take a warm bath," I commented, pulling away so as not to disturb him further. Gaby had taken a seat at the kitchen counter, nibbling on a small plate of fruit. Miguel had most likely prepared it so she didn't get impatient.

"Well, breakfast will have to be quick today," I announced, grabbing a grape for myself, "We still have to get you dressed for preschool and then-"

"I called the preschool," Miguel interjected and I turned to him, "she's not going today."

A small frown graced my features, "Well, I wanted to get a head start on my next article."

"Called your work too. Told them you weren't feeling well." Before I could protest, Miguel continued, "I took the day off as well, figured we could have a day together. As a family."

"Oh," is all I had left to say, "Are you sure? I mean that sounds great, but you said your boss was really strict about time off."

Miguel huffed, smiling wryly at my comment, maybe even condescending. "Yeah, well if he has a problem with it, he can kiss my ass."

My eyes widened at his sudden crassness, "Miguel!"

"Papi, that's a bad word," Gaby chimed in, nose scrunched in determination as she scolded her father.

Miguel's smile shifted to a genuine one, rounding the kitchen island to reach the little girl. "You're right, mi vida, I'm sorry," he said, kissing her temple and she squirmed at the contact. I watched as Miguel pulled away, combing his long fingers through her hair. Did she always look so small next to him? "Come on, help me plate the pancakes. The sooner you eat your breakfast, the sooner we can figure out something to do."

Gabriela nodded eagerly, jumping out of her seat and following Miguel to resume their work. I figured I'd let them enjoy each other's company, preparing coffee for Miguel and myself. As I had hoped, everything seemed to be as it always was once more, if not better. Usually it was hectic in the morning, Miguel sleeping in until the last possible second before getting dressed and walking out the door for work, Gabriela in tow. So having a moment like this was a rare treat, one usually reserved for the weekend.

And yet, there was still something that felt so entirely wrong. Something that made my stomach churn and the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Call it intuition, but as to what it was cluing me into, I had yet to understand. I racked my brain as to what could be causing this feeling to linger inside me. Chewing the inside of my cheek as I poured the coffee into two mugs. To one, I added milk and a spoonful of honey. The other simply got milk, each getting a thorough stir. I took both cups, sipping from the one with honey and offering the other to Miguel.

He took it without even looking at me, focused on making sure Gaby didn't hurt herself as she flipped a pancake. I thought nothing of it as I went to go sit down, maybe scroll on my phone now that I had time, but Miguel's disgruntled murmur had me turning to face him. "I don't want anything in my coffee."

"Oh, sorry I didn't know."

"It's fine, can you just remake it?" Miguel asked in a dismissive tone, holding out the mug to me to take. I set my drink down, taking his in both my hands and going to discard the contents in the sink.

When did he start taking his coffee black?

Tags: @lazy-idate @lilly5799 @yougavemeyourheartyouknow

#miguel o'hara #reader insert #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara x you #x reader

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peakyltd · 11 months

Note

Hi Daisy, I've come to request a John fic with the fluff prompt ❛ do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are? ❜( If you feel inspired, of course!) It seems like a line he would use!

Thank you for your request Lee! 🥰 This line really is something John would say, I already saw that cheeky little grin in my mind.

A/N: I wrote it pretty quickly but then I had some trouble with the flow of the story. I feel like it might not completely live up to what I wrote before. So if that's the case, I'm sorry. Anyway I hope you still like and enjoy it. I certainly did have a lot of fun writing John, it reminded me how much I love his character!

Warnings: Swearing. A few rude comments on Linda? Nothing serious. Other than that it's just pure fluff.

Word count: 2002

Family Dinner

"Please remind me that if you ever want to have a family dinner at our house again, that I'll say no." John mumbles in her ear as he wraps his arms around her waist. "Why?" (Y/N) giggles, looking up at him.

They’re both standing in the kitchen as (Y/N) is finishing up the home made dinner. It was her idea to invite his family but it took her some time to convince John.

"It's pure chaos and Linda is pissing me off with her nagging." He answers her, chewing on this toothpick. "John, you can't say that." She chided, eyeing his family who were sat at the table. The distant was big enough for them not to hear John complaining.

"Oh c'mon (Y/N), don't act like you don't think the same thing." He says as he takes her chin gently between his fingers, turning her face back to him.

As their eyes meet, she can't help but laugh. "See? This is exactly what I mean." John laughs. "I really hope Arthur will grow his balls b-" (Y/N) cuts John off by putting her hand on his mouth, shushing him. "Ssh!" She whispers as she lowers her hand.

"Can I help you with the food (Y/N)?" Linda asks as she approaches the kitchen. "Oh no you don't have to Linda, I'm almost finished. It will come right up"

"It's really no bother." She smiles. "Thank you but it's all set, John will be our waiter tonight." (Y/N) jokes, earning a chuckle from Linda. John, on the other hand, rolls his eyes as he turns to the counter. He takes the toothpick out of his mouth and cuts off some of the meat (Y/N) made.

"If you change your mind, I'll be right there." Linda points at the empty chair next to Arthur. (Y/N) smiles at her. "I appreciate it, Linda." She answers. Watching the woman return to her seat.

(Y/N) hears a deep sigh coming from behind her. "It's no bother" He imitates her. "To me it is." John adds while eating some meat. She pushes playfully against his shoulder. "John."

"I'm right there." He imitates her again. "As if she just came walking in, she's already sitting there for hours."

"John please." (Y/N) chuckles. "She means well. What has she done to you?"

John leans against the counter. "She has to fucking comment on everything someone says or does. As of right now yeah, Arthur just had a drink or two too many. He’s not even pissed yet but she keeps asking him if it's really a good idea to take more whiskey." He sighs frustratedly. "I know I need more whiskey if I need to listen to her any longer."

(Y/N) places her hands on his cheeks and pulls him closer to her. "Try to let it go for tonight, okay? They're both adults and if Arthur has had enough of it, he'll let her know." "He won't." He defends.

"Lets just enjoy the night." She adds as she kisses him softly. "Okay?" "Hm 'kay" John mumbles against her lips as he puts his hands on her waist, pulling her in for another kiss.

The dinner went well, the Shelby's enjoyed the fresh made food and the drinks were flowing. John had visibly relaxed and was slumped back in his seat, laughing at the conversation he was having with his brothers and cousin.

The kids were running in and out of the house, hopefully getting rid of their last energy of the day before going to bed. Ada was talking to Linda and Polly watched the family, a pleased smile on her face.

(Y/N) went back into the kitchen to get her selfmade pudding. She was excited about the dessert ever since the day she knew his family came over for dinner. It was her favorite and she loved to make it. She added some strawberries on top before taking it back to the table.

Before she could even reach the table, the kids came running in, chasing each other. A shout of John could be heard but it was too late, a few of them bumped into (Y/N). The sudden impact caused her to drop the pudding.

A loud gasp comes from her mouth. ��Oh no…” She watches it splash apart, leaving it all over the floor. Disappointment filling her features.

“What have I said about no fucking running around the kitchen! Look what you've done!" John bellows as he stands up, the children immediately apologize. "Sorry mom." "Yes sorry aunt (Y/N)."

She sighs. "It's okay. Don't worry about it. Be careful next time, yeah?" They nod. "Now go back outside." John adds strictly, glaring at the kids. He made sure they were out of sight before he made his way to the kitchen.

"I'm so sorry." She apologizes to his family. "Don't be sorry, love. We've had already more than enough." Polly smiles at her. "We'll come back for pudding another time."

(Y/N) nods, wiping the remains of her dress. "Here let me help you." A voice came from behind her. John got a few towels for her to clean her dress and helped her to tidy the mess on the floor.

Once they were finished she sat back down in her chair. Feeling better after John’s attempts to cheer her up.

Rumbling was heard from the kitchen as John appeared with two bottles of whiskey in his hands. He lifted them above his head, a big grin on his lips. “I got a new dessert!” He cheered. A sigh coming from (Y/N)’s lips. “Oh god…”

As their evening came to an end, (Y/N) and John said their goodbyes to his family. Their exit was as chaotic as their entrance. Arthur was too drunk and had to be helped into the car by Tommy and Finn. Which resulted in John having tears rolling down his cheeks from laughter and a very annoyed Linda.

When Tommy told John to "shut his fucking mouth or he would help to do so" it caused Arthur to have his own fit of uncontrollable giggles. A lot of shouting and more laughter had followed until Polly and Ada finally managed to get everyone in their cars. As soon as the cars drove out of the drive way, peace had returned.

John wiped the tears off his face. "Did you see his face? Bloody idiot." He started laughing again. "I don’t want to know how they will get him out of the car." (Y/N) giggles. "I would leave him there. He can get out by himself in the morning." He chuckles.

As his laughter calmed down he took a deep breath. "I have to admit that I enjoyed this night more than I thought I would." "I'm glad you did." She beams at him as she pulls him in for a hug, leaning her head against his chest.

John strokes her hair and kisses the top of her head. While he is looking at the garden, an idea pops up in his head.

"Shall I light the fire pit? The weather is still lovely and I wouldn’t mind to spend some time alone with you." He offers. (Y/N) looks up at him. "Oh yes, I would love that. I'll quickly check on the children, I hope they didn't wake up from all the noise."

"Alright." He gives her a quick kiss, leaving her smiling. He collects some branches and makes his way to the fire place.

Once upstairs (Y/N) checks the bedrooms of their children. She finds them sound asleep, as if nothing happened. All of them too tired from their eventful night.

As (Y/N) arrives back outside, John was already sat in front of the fire. A whiskey in his hand and a new toothpick in his mouth. “They’re still sleeping.” She tells him. "I’m glad." He says as he gets up.

"Do I need to get your coat?" "No I'm fine, it's still warm enough." She assures him. "I did get you a blanket." He points at the chair next to his, a blanket hanging on the back of the chair.

She smiles at his gesture. "Thank you, John." She says, sitting down. The fire warms her skin immediately. "I got your wine." John sits next to her, showing her the bottle and filling her glass. "You're such a gentleman, John Shelby."

He chuckles as he hands her the glass. "Of course I am." He answers, putting the bottle down next to him. (Y/N) takes a sip of her drink, leaning back against the chair. The blanket had already warmed up by the fire, making her feel at ease. She takes a deep breath as she looks over the meadow next to their house.

John mimics her and watches the fire. The reflection of the flames dancing on his face. "Aren't we lucky?" She asks, looking at him. "I know I am, I have the most beautiful woman in the world." He grins at her. She blushes lightly at his comment. "Are you flirting with me?" She chuckles.

"Maybe." He smirks at her. "Is it working?" "It already worked a while ago." She jokes. (Y/N) grabs his hand, she softly strokes it with her thumb. John squeezes hers gently. "But yes, it is working." She admits.

A peaceful silence fell over them as they're both sipping on their drinks. As the flames become smaller, John put extra woodblocks and branches in the fire pit. He catches (Y/N) staring at the sky. He looks up as well, gazing at the moon and many stars that were visible this night.

"Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?" He asks (Y/N) as he looks at her, a cheeky grin on his face. She shifts her gaze to him. "My god John." She giggles, hiding her face in her hands. John laughs as he grabs her hands and pulls her up from her chair.

"Don't hide that pretty face of yours." He chuckles. He sneaks his arms around her and pulls her closer. (Y/N) wraps her arms around his neck, brushing her fingers over the short hair on the back of his head.

"I do think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are." John confesses to her as he looks into her eyes. "Nothing compares to you. Not even the moon."

(Y/N) blushes, admiring John’s face. "I love you so much." "I love you too, darling." He tells her as he moves his face closer to hers.

"Before you kiss me, please let me do this." She whispers, earning a confused look from John. (Y/N) takes the toothpick out of his mouth and throws it into the fire.

"Oh." He chuckles. "I don't think it would add much good." She smiles. "You never know, maybe you're into it." He jokes. (Y/N) can't help but giggle at his stupid joke.

“You make me the happiest, John.” She tells him, her voice soft. “Imagine how you make me feel.” John grins at her.

He moves his face closer to hers again. His breath fanning her face. (Y/N) feels the butterflies in her stomach, they're giving her a giddy feeling. She gently pulls him closer until their lips connect.

The kiss starts off soft but steadily becomes heated as they're exploring each others mouth. One of John's hand slowly lowers until he stops on her butt, gently grabbing ahold of it. He grins as she let out a soft moan. Her fingers are tangled in his hair as her other hand rests on his neck, wanting more.

John slowly breaks this kiss, breathing heavily. "I can't get enough of you." He breathes out as he strokes her cheek with his thumb. (Y/N) smiles at him, catching her own breath. "We don't have to stop yet." She teases him. "I wasn't planning on doing so." He smirks as he pulls her in for another passionate kiss.

One of many they would share that night.

#john shelby one shot #john shelby drabble #john shelby imagine #peaky blinders drabble #john shelby x reader

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warmaidensrevenge · 3 months

Text

Love and pinball

Pairing: Eddie x Plus!size fem reader

A/N: Oh man it's been a long while. I've been taking a long needed break. But now I'm back and I have a bunch of ideas that need to be written. So I'm looking forward to what's next. I would also like to add that I had help from @salenorona23 to write this fic. I would liked to thank you. You honestly come up with the best ideas.

Thanks for sticking around. I appreciate all of you. I hope you enjoy the conclusion of Love and Pinball.

The song I added was an inspiration to me. Kay love ya. Byyyye.

Word count: 3,199

I do not give permission for my work to be published anywhere else. Please respect all creators. All the pictures I used for my collage were taken from a Google search. A credit to the original posters

Warnings: 18+ no minors please. Sexual implications, loss, grief, heartache and angst. Not proof read.

Part 8: Together

Summary: Grief will rip us apart. But love, real love can help us back to each other.

You stirred a little and placed a hand on your stomach. There was something wrong. You felt empty.

You weakly called out for Eddie. " B-baby?"

Your eyes opened slowly and the sun was blinding. You looked around and saw Paul and your mom. Then you saw Eddie who was sitting next to the bed, holding your hand. He had never looked so bad.

It was quiet. The silence and the single heart beat on the monitor was ominous. You remembered a little of what happened when you got to the hospital. But you were in and out of it.

"Is-ugh-is the baby okay?" You asked, trying to sit up.

Eddie and Paul stood quiet as your mom came to your side and started stroking your hair.

" Honey…I'm so sorry."

You cried for four days straight, with your mom never leaving your side. Even though you knew Eddie had to be with Liam. It hurt so much more to go through the loss of the baby without him.

Those four days were the worst in Eddie's life. When he was away he wished he was with you. And when he was with you all he did was hold you as you sobbed.

He felt like he was the reason you guys were suffering.

On the fifth day, you were going to be discharged from the hospital. Eddie had left work early to be the one to take you home. However, when he got there you were already gone.

Confused and worried he went home. Only to find suitcases by the door.

" Sweetheart?" He called out.

He found you in the nursery clutching the baby blanket from the hospital.

" Sweetheart?"

When you looked at him, he had never seen so much pain in someone's eyes.

You were dreading this moment ever since you decided to run. The only thing that kept you from taking off without a single care was the respect you had for Eddie. He deserved more than him coming home to see you were gone. He needed to know that you would be okay.

You looked back at the empty crib and felt such heartache. To the means of something you could not put into words.

" My mom went to say goodbye to Paul and Natalie. She's going to be back soon."

Eddie remained quiet and watched you. Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

" I-I'm gonna go back with her."

His heart sank.

" I need some time…"

You didn't need to finish for him to understand what you needed. And though it tore him apart, he wanted you to be okay.

He took a few steps towards you. "Y/n, I think it's a good idea. You should be with your mom for a few days."

You tensed under his hand that was suddenly on your back. He almost lost it. He almost broke down. But he couldn't. So he didn't.

What he did instead was help put your bags in the trunk and helped you with your seatbelt.

Not once did you look at him. You barely said anything at all.

" Sweetheart, I'll be here when you get back."

Your head was hung while you nodded.

Eddie's heart shattered all over again watching the car fade into the distance.

Maybe this was for the best. Maybe it wasn't what was best for him. But it was what you needed. Right now all you needed was family.

…

3 weeks later

You always did hate how hot New Mexico was. You hated the bugs and the disgusting dry heat. But all of those things didn't bother you anymore. Those inconveniences were nothing compared to the suffering you felt.

It had been three long weeks since the loss of your baby girl and you couldn't find it in you to get out of bed. Or to really talk things out with Eddie.

Sure he called countless times, asking when you were gonna come home. But the answer was always the same. You didn't know.

That wasn't true though. You were never going back. How could you? How could you go on and pretend that baby Claire never existed? How could you face the man you loved knowing it was your fault she didn't make it? That the family you wanted was gone.

Chrissy gave him something you couldn't. A baby. And you hated her for that. You hated that she had a healthy beautiful baby boy, while you were left with this empty feeling.

That wasn't the person you wanted to be. And it was definitely not something you wanted Eddie to see.

It took everything you had to breathe. To wake up and not blame yourself.

But the agony you felt wouldn't go away no matter how hard you tried. And no matter how many tears flowed, there was always more.

It especially hurt when Eddie would call and you could hear Liam crying. It was excruciating to hear cries that weren't hers.

Deep down you wanted to be with Eddie. And you really did love Liam. But you just couldn't do it. It was too hard.

On the fourth week you were woken up by a tiny human.

" Tee? Wake up Tee."

You opened your eyes and found big blue ones looking back at you.

"Morning Tee."

You smiled as she climbed into bed and gave you a big hug.

" Hi baby. Oh I've missed you."

Natalie giggled when you gave her a bunch of kisses.

" Hey champ."

You looked up from Natalie and saw Paul standing by the door.

Your eyes started to swell and your chin trembled." H-hi."

After hello hugs you went to the kitchen and sat there watching Natalie eat.

" What're you guys doing here?"

Your mom poured you and Paul coffee and put a hand on your shoulder.

" Honey, your brother is leaving Natalie here for a while."

You looked over at Paul and he nodded. " I uhhh Natalie needs you…and I think you need her too."

You frowned and tears filled your eyes again. Then you nodded and sniffled. " I do."

You wiped away your tears and lightly laughed. " I'm sorry."

" Tee don't be sad."

You smiled softly at her. "I'm just really happy to see you."

She giggled and got down from her chair and raised her arms up for you to pick her up. Once on your lap she started humming.

" Tee, can we make cookies?"

You kissed the top of her little head. " Of course baby."

You looked up at Paul and your mom and saw them giving you small smiles.

For the first time in a month, you felt ok…Better.

Eddie was going through it. Sure he still had Liam, but he lost a daughter too. And he started resenting you for leaving him. Especially since you were only supposed to be gone for a little bit.

It was now a month and a half later and you still haven't said when you were coming back.

That was until you called him.

" Hey sweetheart."

" Hi."

He sat down on the bed. " How are you?"

You sighed. " Better."

His brows pinched together. " Yeah? That's good. I uhh miss you.”

“Eddie I- ummm I left a few things and I was hoping you could send them to me?”

He was quiet for a second. Didn't you miss him too?

“ Uhh yeah. Yeah. Sure baby. What do you need?”

He wrote down the list of things and was confused. Photo albums, jewelry and your diploma. Things that were important and likely irreplaceable.

“Umm sweetheart? Do…do you really want me to send this stuff?”

You cleared your throat before answering. “ Yeah.”

He nodded and fought back his tears. Why did it feel like you weren't coming back?

" Y/n? You're coming home…right?"

He heard you sniffle and knew your answer.

" Baby, please. I-I-"

"I have to go. I'm sorry."

When you hung up, it was like you felt everything you felt a month ago. But ten fold. It was horrible.

You originally hoped calling him would change your mind about not going back. Instead, all it did was solidify that you could never go back and face him.

You laid in bed that night thinking of all the things that you should've said to him. You should have said you were sorry for falling that day. For losing Claire. For running away. But most of all you wanted to say you loved him very much.

All the pain you felt started making you cry. After a minute or so you felt a little bit of movement behind you. Then you felt a tiny hand stroking your hair.

You turned around and saw Natalie staring at you.

" Don't cry Tee."

You whimpered a little as you wiped your eyes.

She grabbed your hand." Everything's gonna be alright."

" I know, baby. I know."

" Then-then why are you crying?"

You sniffled. " Everyone cries baby."

Natalie frowned. " I don't like it when you cry Tee. It scares me."

Your brows pinched together and you reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear. " Why honey?"

" Because when big people cry, that means something bad happened. And I don't want bad things to happen."

You sucked in a breath and nodded. " I'm sorry. I-I won't cry anymore."

She held out her pinky. " Promise."

You let out a small laugh and hooked your pinky with hers. " I promise baby."

She leaned in and gave you a hug and a kiss before getting under the covers. Then she started humming a familiar tune until she fell asleep.

You squeezed her gently and thought of the day you guys went shopping with Eddie replayed in your head.

It was at that moment you knew what you had to do.

It was time to work on getting better. For your family. And for Eddie.

Eddie cried after he hung up the phone. He never felt so alone before. Or so sad. What did he need to do to get you home?

He wanted to go to you, but with Liam and work he really couldn't. On top of that he was heartbroken.

But what made things worse was that Chrissy decided to give him full custody of Liam. All she said when she dropped him off was that Jason proposed to her. So she handed him Liam and paperwork that she had a lawyer draw up.

That was a week ago.

Thank God for his friends. He didn't know what he would do without Gareth or Robin. They were his saving grace. But the only person he really wanted was you. Looks like he wasn't going to get that happy ending he always wanted.

Two weeks later

It was a stormy Saturday afternoon. Eddie had just put Liam down for a nap. He had been so fussy today. He had this little cough that scared him. So after a doctor's visit he gave him some medicine and put him to bed.

Eddie went outside to sit on the porch and look at the paper. He was searching for an affordable place that he and Liam could move into. He felt that it wasn't right to stay in your place without you.

However, the only place he could afford was in Forest Hills and he wanted better for Liam. But there was no other choice.

He closed his eyes and sighed. “ Wish you would come home.”

He then heard a car door close. When he looked up he saw you standing there. Umbrella in one hand and a suitcase in the other.

When the cab drove off you started towards him.

He was in shock. With no clue what to actually say or do, he just sat there.

You reached the steps and stared at him. All you could think about was how much you've missed him.

“I…I know there's nothing I can say to take back what happened and how I reacted to it. Just know that I am so sorry for leaving you.” You moistened your lips and continued. “ I should've known that losing our girl was going to hurt you too. I was selfish and a jerk… and I get it if you can't forgive me. I just came back to apologize and to say if you need me, I'll be here... And I need you to know that I'm not 100% right now. And...and I don't think I ever will be. But I'm willing to try and be. For you and Liam...For me too.

He stood up and dropped the newspaper. Just then the slight drizzle turned into a downpour. He went down the steps and pulled you into a hug. Your body trembled in his arms as tears filled his eyes.

“ I missed you so much baby.” he leaned back and kissed you.

After a few seconds you guys heard Liam cough.

He looked down at you and put his forehead on yours. “ I know what you're gonna say. But I don't care. I like how much of a cliche we are together…That's how I know it's real.”

You nodded. “ I guess you're right…Curls?”

“ Yeah sweetheart?”

“ I'm not leaving again. Not ever. Well not willfully.”

He chuckled and went to kiss you again but you put a hand on his chest.

“ Common bud, I wanna see Liam.”

He nodded and grabbed your luggage. Following you inside.

You never ran. Not when Chrissy came back crying that Jason left her and then tried to take Liam. Not when he was let go from the plant. Even when things got overwhelming when Hannah and Layla were born. When postpartum hit you like a truck. You didn't leave.

Even when things got better and the band got a record deal and he spent more time on the road than at home. You stayed and supported him. You said and did all the things a partner should. You challenged him to be better and you were honest with him. You did so much for him and the family. You took care of the house and the kids, even though you needed help. You didn't leave when he missed so many birthdays, little league games and ballet recitals.

Because you loved him and he loved you. No matter how hard or easy things were. You both showed up for each other. No matter what, you had each other's back.

Eddie hadn't been home in a few months and you never missed him more. Maybe it was because the kids were asking when he was coming back. Or maybe it was because your anniversary was coming up and you needed your anniversary kisses. Either way he was way overdue for a cuddle session.

All day you tried to focus on the daycare. And for the most part you kept it together. That was until you were about to leave for the day.

He was there. Leaning against his red BMW with his legs crossed at the ankles and hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

You could cry right now. But instead you melted seeing him smile at you.

“ Hey Mrs. Munson. Beautiful weather we're having.”

You shook your head and went to him. Giving him hugs and all the kisses you've been saving just for him.

“ Mmmmm sweetheart. Let me get you home first.”

He led you to the passenger side and opened the door. As soon as you slid in, you climbed down from cloud nine. You opened your mouth to say something when he closed the door and held up his hand.

“ Don't worry, your car will be safe here and the kids are at Paul's. It's just you and me tonight.”

You didn't make it past the living room. You were on each other as soon as the front door closed.

Eddie sighed with satisfaction. “ God I've missed you.”

“ Better have.”

He chuckled and placed a wet kiss on your cheek. “ I always miss you when I'm gone. You and the kids.”

You swallow and nod. “ So how long do we get you for?”

He hummed and pulled you to lay in his arms. “ I'm not sure. 1 or 2, maybe 3 years.”

You lifted your head and gave him a surprise look.

He grinned at you. “ The band decided we needed a break. To get back to our roots and be with our families. So we all agreed that a long vacation would do us good. Obviously, we can't just disappear for 3 years.”

“ Right.”

He reached up and tucked your hair behind your shoulder. “ Yeah. So we set it up to only do local shows a few times a month and do 9 big venues in the surrounding states. But only in the summer so I can bring you guys with me.”

You were speechless. You've been wanting to hear those words from him for a long time now. It was the best thing he had ever said to you.

You smiled softly.“The kids would love that.”

“ What about you?”

You laid your head back on his chest. “ Well I don't know. I guess I can take it or leave it.”

He gasped. “ I beg your pardon!” He then started to tickle your sides and made his way on top of you.

“ Ahhh curls! Okay okay!”

He stopped and grinned down at you.

You smiled back at him. “ I would love nothing more than for all of us to be together. I love that you're home…I miss you bud. So much.”

He nodded slightly before leaning for a kiss.

“ Mmm sooo speaking of all of us…I was thinking maybe we could work on baby 4 and 5.”

You clicked your tongue. “ Hmmm that sounds fun. Maybe pinball after?”

He chuckled lightly. “ Love then pinball?”

“ Or.” You raised a brow. “ Love and pinball?”

“ Oh you're naughty baby.”

You both grinned at each other for a moment before he got up.

“ I'll get us snacks and juice boxes.”

You laughed as he helped you up. “ I'll be down stairs beating your score.”

He smacked your bottom. “ We'll see about that “

As you stood in front of the thing that started it all you couldn't help but feel joy. The very same Grand Prix game you guys played all those years ago was now yours. Well it has been since Eddie gifted it to you as a wedding present.

You sighed happily as you took the quarter from the return slot and popped it in. The lights and music were the exact same as always.

You pulled back the spring handle and the ball was off. Whirls and dings were all too exciting. It was perfect. And in a few minutes you were almost to the high score. But then there were hands on your hips pulling you back so that you were flushed against his chest.

“ No distract-” you tried to say but cut off as you watched as the silver ball fell right between your paddles. Then you heard a slight chuckle.

“ Sorry sweetheart. You lost.”

Sighing in defeat, you turned around in his arms and wrapped yours around his neck. “ No bud. I think I won.”

Eddie looked back and forth between your eyes and understood what you meant.

He put his forehead on yours. “ We won.”

...

@marsmunson86 @browneyes528 @erinsingalong @salenorona23 @emsgoodthinkin @eddie-is-a-god @manda-panda-monium

#fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x female original character #eddie munson x you #stranger things #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie x reader #eddie my beloved #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson smut #plus size reader #Spotify

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sailor-aviator · 2 months

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Hey, so...

This is going to be a LONG post, so please bare with me.

I've been doing a LOT of thinking the past week about what fics I'm doing and when. I've made some decisions that some people are probably not going to like, and I completely understand that, but at the end of the day, it's my blog and my time. I know there have been some fics that people have been very excited for, but unfortunately, things change.

As of right now, Til the Summer Comes Again is getting shelved until sometime in November. I love the fic, and I want to finish it, but I do think it'll be a lot more fun to do in the winter considering it's a Jack Frost fic. This past winter was really hectic for me considering I started a new job after being unemployed for a couple of months, and with the stress of all that and the pressure for other fics, it definitely fell by the wayside. The fic idea is something so special to me, which is why I'm shelving it instead of scrapping it altogether. We will see Jack Frost!Bob again in November!

I am also scrapping my Hadestown fic (In Spite of the Way). I'm doing this because it's such a specific story, and unfortunately, I just don't see myself being able to add anything new or interesting to the story at hand. It would just be a complete retelling of the story that's already there, and that's not something that I want to do.

I am also tabling my Studio Ghibli fics. I'm not sure if I'll ever come back to them, but they've been pushed to the side for so long that it just doesn't make sense to have them on my masterlist when it's becoming clear that other things are drawing my interests away. I'd love to re-explore them farther down the line, but for now, Our Hill of Stars and The Word of the Crooked are being taken off my masterlist. Whisper in the Wind I believe will be started come early September or so and be a part of the Autumn lineup.

Now that Meet Me at the Sea is done, my focus is going to be on finishing Fool's Fare and updating the Dagger Posse Universe here and there. Fool's Fare is most likely to be done sometime in April if I had to guess, which means...

It's time to talk the Sailor-Aviator Summer Cinematic Release schedule!

As we all know, I've just announced the MMATS stand-alone sequel: Down By the Bay featuring one Bradley Bradshaw. But what else is coming this summer? Let's talk about it!

There have been a few of you waiting for my Indiana Jones!Jake fic aka Fortune & Glory, and I'm so excited to announce that it is on the roster for this summer! Tune in to follow Jake and Bucket as they try to secure the legendary staff of Moses before the Nazis do!

Next up on the roster is the long-awaited Mafia fic! Titled after the age-old idiom, Two Birds follows the reader as they unwittingly catch the eye of not one, but two mafia bosses, both standing as the dual heads of the Dagger Syndicate. Two Birds is a M x F x M featuring Jake "Hangman" Seresin and Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw (No Hangster).

I'm hoping to start these fics anywhere from Mid-May to early June, so stay tuned!!

Meanwhile, I will be dedicating some time to the DPU as well, trying to wrap up some fics within that to hopefully have it finished (or down to the last one) by the summer's end.

If you've stuck around this long, I just want to say thank you. Not only for reading this monster of a post, but for continuing to read my work and for following and supporting me through everything! You guys are the best! Until next time~

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hbosucc · 5 months

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Greg Hirsch x Reader

Ok being brave and posting the first chapter!! It's an x Reader fic (I used Y/N, so much nostalgia lol) with few descriptions of the reader insert, besides afab/uses female pronouns, works as a tutor, and is mid-20's in age.

First up, Content Warnings: This fic is for readers 18+ only. The first two chapters aren't explicitly NSFW, but later chapters will be.

Content Warnings for:

Sexual Content: consensual, protected sex between two adult characters, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), p in v, slight power play (choking, one partner holding the other's wrists down, all consensual).

Swearing

Alcohol & (in one of the later chapters, I will put another warning at the top when I post it) drug use

The Roy family & their whole mess lmao

If I can think of anything else I'll make sure to add it!

A few other things:

I found out about the allegations against Nicholas Braun (Greg's actor) after I'd already written most of this fic, and I do not condone his alleged actions at all. This fic is only about the character he played.

Greg is kind of a pathetic, goofy little man. I really can't explain my attraction to him!! I simply had to write this fic to get all that out so I can go on with my life lmao.

Chapter 1: First Date

I took a seat at the bar, anxiously checking my phone again. I’d met people from dating apps before, but was still always a bit nervous beforehand. First dates, in general, freaked me out. But the man I’d arranged to meet was really cute—in his pictures, at least—and the bar he’d suggested was fancy and well-populated, so I decided to brave my nerves and wait a while longer for him to show.

Taking a slow sip of my gin and tonic, I surveyed the room, narrowing my eyes. Usually, I would’ve waited for my date to arrive before ordering, but he was late, and I was hoping the drink would settle my nerves.

Was that him? His bio had listed his height as 6’5”, which I’d initially thought must’ve been an exaggeration. If that was him, he certainly hadn’t been lying. I watched as he glanced around, looking almost panicked, until his eyes landed on me. He visibly relaxed, his lips turning up into a smile as he headed towards me.

“Hi, Y/n?” He asked, and I nodded, looking him up and down. He was late, after all; I couldn’t go too easy on him. He slid onto the stool next to mine, unwinding a scarf from around his neck. I couldn’t help but notice his hands: large and long fingered. With his height, I’d be surprised if he wasn’t seriously packing below the belt. I snuck a look down at his shoes, clocking their size while he ordered himself a drink.

“Would you like another?” He asked. My gaze snapped back up to meet his.

“That would be great, thanks. Gin and tonic.”

He turned back to the bartender to order for me and open a tab. I finished my first drink and the second appeared almost immediately.

“I’m like, so, so sorry I’m late. I should’ve messaged to let you know, I just, work was literally insane today.” He blew out a long breath, and I felt bad for him for a moment. Unless he was a fantastic actor, he seemed genuinely frazzled.

“Well, I suppose I can forgive you, as long as you keep the drinks coming.” I smiled to let him know I was joking—well, mostly—and was rewarded with a nervous laugh. “What do you do for work? It wasn’t in your bio.”

“I—well, I work for a media company.”

“This is New York, Greg, you’ve got to be more specific than that.” I rolled my eyes, but stopped when I saw how apprehensive he looked. “Unless you’re under an NDA or something, of course. If you tell me, you’d have to kill me, and all that?”

“Something like that, yeah.” He ran a hand over his dark hair and gave another nervous chuckle.

“That’s okay, we don’t have to talk about work. Mine’s pretty boring, anyways.”

“Oh, what do you do?” He asked, straightening up.

“I’m a tutor at one of the private schools on the upper-east side. English, mostly, though I can do most other subjects in a pinch.”

“That’s impressive, you work at one of those rich people schools?” He raised his eyebrows. “You have to be, like, really smart to work at one of those.”

“I suppose so.” I laughed, almost choking on my drink. I liked his bluntness. Most people use bluntness as an excuse to be an absolute dick, but he was blunt in a nice way. It seemed as though he was incapable of pretense; he just said whatever came to mind, even if it didn’t come out in the most eloquent way.

There was a beat of silence, and I stirred the lime wedges around in my glass. I knew I needed to slow down; my limit was typically three drinks. Less than ten minutes into the date and I was halfway there already. I was supposed to be pacing myself so I wouldn’t end up drunkenly throwing myself at him. Not that I was completely opposed to taking someone to bed on the first date, but I had to admit that was beginning to feel juvenile to me. If I liked someone enough, I preferred to let the tension build up for a bit first.

“So,” I started, having realized that so far, he’d been asking all the questions. “Did you grow up here, in New York?”

We went over the usual first-date questions, and I began to feel more comfortable as the date went on. I’m sure this was partially due to the gin loosening my nerves, but Greg also just seemed so harmless. There was an initial timidity to him, but I could see the beginning of something else underneath that. Something in him wanted to break out, and I could feel myself growing intrigued by the idea of opening him up.

“So, what are you, like—what brings you to the app? The one where we met, I mean.” He swiveled to angle his stool towards me, finishing off his first drink and catching the bartender’s eye to nod for another.

“Well,” I tried to choose my words carefully. This was the part where I knew some guys would get scared off, and I liked Greg so far, so I hoped that wouldn’t happen. “I’d like to find something long-term, to be honest. I’ve dated people over the years, done the whole casual thing, but I’ve grown tired of it. What about you?”

“Yeah, same, actually,” He nodded thoughtfully. “It’s just, like, so hard to find cool people, you know? People are so, like, fake nowadays.”

“I suppose so. I think people have always been fake, to some degree, but now it’s just easier to see. Social media, and all that. Broadcasting every thought you have out into the world.”

“I didn’t even think about that,” His eyes widened in a nearly comical way, though I could tell he was being sincere. “but you’re absolutely right. People can just, like, send all their opinions out there, no matter how crazy.”

“Exactly. I mean, I use social media, don’t get me wrong, but not to that extent.” I hastily added, “And I don’t think I’m better than other people for using it less often, or more discreetly, it’s just a preference.”

“I feel like…I hope this isn’t too much, okay, but your voice is really nice. I feel like I could listen to you talk, like, all day. And you have all these smart things to say, too.”

“Greg,” I was taken aback and quite flattered. He’d managed to fluster me. “I’m not that smart, I promise—and I say plenty of nonsensical things. If you’re around me enough, you’ll see lots of that. I’m just on my best behavior at the moment.”

“Well, I’d be interested to see you on your worst behavior.” He said, then seemed to realize what he’d implied, and chuckled nervously. I could see his wheels turning, formulating an apology, and I cut him off.

“Likewise.” I drained my drink through the straw, the toe of my boot nudging his leg as I turned to order another.

---

“Are you sure you’ll be able to get home okay?” He asked. We were out in front of the now-closed bar, waiting for my ride.

“I’m sure. It’s just an Uber, Greg, I’ve taken them hundreds of times.” I smiled up at him. It was freezing, and we were both bundled up in our coats, scarves, and gloves. I really did have to look up at him now that we were standing. He was nearly a foot taller than me, even in my heeled boots. “Are you sure you’ll get home okay?”

“Yeah, okay, yeah I’m sure.” He sighed with a grin. “I do appreciate the concern, though.”

“Well, you paid for all of our expensive-ass drinks, so it’s the least I can do.” I said. “Thank you for that, by the way. I’ll get the check next time, if you’d like.”

“It’s no problem, really. I, um…I used to be really broke, not too long ago, actually, and it feels really nice to be able to pay for stuff now.”

“I know that feeling.” I nodded. I squinted as a car pulled up to the curb across the street, barely able to make out the license number in the dark, and compared it against the one on my phone screen.

“Well, that’s my ride,” I said, looking back up at him. “I would like to do this again, if you’d be interested.”

“Yes, I would. I’d be…very interested,” He said, his breath seeming to catch in his throat.

“That’s great to hear,” I stepped closer, pausing for a moment, wondering if he’d make a move. When he didn’t bend down to kiss me, I had to admit that I was disappointed, my stomach sinking, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment at my presumption. I stepped back, giving him a wave instead. “Well, I’ll see you, then.”

“Yeah,” He cleared his throat, and he called after me as I crossed the street. “Let me know when you get home!”

“I will. Goodnight, Greg.” I gave one last wave before shutting myself into the backseat of my Uber. The driver played music on a low volume the whole drive, and it began to snow lightly as we approached my apartment building. I got out and stood in the cold for a moment before heading upstairs, trying to wind myself down. It had been a good date, and I had thought I’d felt some chemistry between us. Though without the kiss that tended to punctuate a good first date, it was hard to tell for sure. I knew I would overthink it all if I let myself, so I got ready for bed, taking a sleeping pill so I wouldn’t stay awake and replay the date over and over in my mind, wondering if and where it’d gone wrong.

#hbo succession #succession #succession imagine #succession fanfic #greg hirsch #gregory hirsch #succession x reader #greg hirsch x reader

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darkestwolfx · 1 month

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It's a Long Story about the Topiary

I have nothing to say about this that hasn't already been said. @tsarinatorment as I promised you this series was always going to have more written, and as you requested it, I got straight on with it!

I'll add fanfiction.net link once it generates! Notes: I don’t know how long awaited this may be for everyone who reads it, but I know for some it will be very important to them! So I hope you enjoy whether you are new or old to this little universe (that will not be staying little at all)!

This was something I fully intended to write before going away, so I’m pleased to have the chance to finish it and bring it to you all now. It seemed like the appropriate next add-on, but there are a few others also that I want to add also.

Might be best read after ‘A Seed Once Sown’ and ‘Afternoon Tea’ but it’s not a necessity as this fic will contain everything you’d need to make this a stand-alone read also.

And if anyone had noticed, yes, the title is a play on the song “long way to Tipperary”.

Also ages don’t particularly matter, but I’ve worked out based on what rough idea TAG did give us that when the boys rescued Jeff they were around the following give or take: Scott - 28, John - 25, Virgil – 23, Gordon – 20, Alan – 17 In case this is something people like to have in mind when reading.

Words: 6226

Summary: After Jeff returned home, there were a few things that needed explaining. Like the intriguing garden furniture…Chronologically, this is looking to be part 6 of International Gardening Services, but for now it's only the 3rd part written.

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There were many things to get used to again by being back on Earth.

Gravity was a noticeable first and combined with sunlight – a noticeable second – they had quickly become his bane for several days. Jeff had never had the same struggle with returning to gravity that John did as a young man, but now he felt a little of his second son’s difficulty. No– a lot, he understood it a lot.

He knew the boys had worried, but after a week or so, he’d managed to prove to them that he was right as rain (if not a little unsteady if he rose too fast, but that resolved itself again in another week).

The third – almost sadly – was his mother’s cooking. After surviving on rations, the thought of a meal was heavenly, until it was “meatloaf surprise” served up before him. This was a new take on the dish, something his mother had obviously developed in his absence, but it was no improvement to her known poor cooking - nor the standard “meatloaf” which had come before it - and Jeff had to admit he (momentarily) wondered if he would be better off on rations again.

The fourth, was the realisation that his boys… weren’t really boys anymore, not even the youngest. In his absence, they’d grown up by themselves, taught each other what they needed to, and – whilst he could look upon them now with as much love and pride as he ever had – the realisation that they didn’t need him anymore was (more than) a little soul-breaking. He couldn’t say that to them either, not after everything those developments had allowed them to achieve, which included rescuing me.

No, it would be an insult to say he wished for the sons he left behind, but… he did miss– no, regret what he’d lost. He supposed the boys likely felt the same way, to have lost him for eight years, only to gain him back now when… well, when they didn’t really need him anymore.

Logically, he knew that wasn’t really true. Although he may have missed the formative years to still play the role of father, he would always be their father, and they would desire he be around as much as he wanted them to outlast him. That was the truth, but emotionally, it hit hard still.

That’s why he’d tried so hard, desperately fought to think of anyway to get home, and yet, no matter how much he tried, he still wondered whether it would be too late – for him or the boys, or the years they’d have lost.

It could’ve been worse: it could’ve been better, of course, also.

You could’ve never gone…

No, Jeff knew – as much as he knew his family did – that he could never have not taken that mission to stop The Hood, no matter what it cost. But if things could be different, just one time…

That was no longer worth torturing themselves with.

The fifth – and well, everything else that came after – was a mix of the more little things. Letting former friends know that he was alive and a bit less of the “former” could come back into play.

Making time to see all such people was a head-rush and not something he’d yet got round to even thinking about arranging. Except for Lee was going to return to the island. Jeff had been intrigued to hear the tales of the adventures his sons had with his old friend in his absence and Alan had eagerly agreed that he could make the trip to pick the Captain up as soon as the weather conditions on Mars cleared up again.

There was redoing his wardrobe, because for all he’d tried to keep his physique, it hadn’t been an easy mission and some of his shape had dwindled away, if not his strength.

There was learning all about the “new” things that had come into play over the last eight years, like home-made AI’s and Hypercars, and gecko gloves and deadly space lasers. Not to mention weather drones and giant allegators!

The drama wasn’t just limited to the field either, as apparently there was quite the stack of films he’d missed the release of that the family had watched on their movie nights (sometimes afternoons – “depending on the type of week we were having”, he’d been informed by Gordon) that they now needed to rewatch with him. The first of such had been two weeks into his return when the holo-screen just about looked straight, and it had been enjoyable to spend such effortless time with his family again, even if he didn’t understand why Virgil and Scott no longer shared the popcorn, each having to have a bowl of their own instead, nor why John had to sit tediously (it seemed) in the middle of them both whilst Gordon seemed to snigger even when the movie didn’t prompt it.

No, he didn’t understand that, but then, it was another thing he knew he must’ve missed.

------

It was in his third week of being back – balance and vision somewhat back in coordination – that he ventured outside. The poolside smelt of chlorine and chemicals, and yet it was welcoming in its own odd way. The deck chairs were still covered the same and clearly hadn’t taken anymore burning’s from Scott’s launches of Thunderbird One. Jeff supposed he was thinking quite some way back to when the eldest was first learning to pilot the craft: and of course there would no longer be such issues. There barely had been when he left!

It seemed easier to remember the past, because he’d not made many memories over the last 8 years, only the previous twenty lived on repeat for him: from the day Scott was born to the moment he left them to go on the Zero X mission.

Only those years had existed for him.

Sitting beneath the sun, feeling the warmth on his face was glorious and something else he soon realised he’d missed. Moving their lives to the island had been necessary for so many reasons – for International Rescue to be possible, for the secrecy, and for them to start again. And the sun and the sea had seemed a good thing to encourage some of that healing.

He felt it now keenly.

It was only after a while sunbathing that he opened his eyes, blinked twice and finally took in the growth of trees opposite the pool. The island was full of trees, yes, an entire jungle worth of assorted sprouts to be more specific, so these shouldn’t be anything worth noting, but there was something… they hadn’t been there when he… left.

They seemed now to border and block in the little garden area he’d cut aside for his mother when she’d insisted if they were moving to a tropical island that she still wanted a normal garden. So he and Kyrano had put some paving stones down from the stairway he’d made around the back of the buildings, and maintained a lawn amongst all the fast growing greenery. Kyrano had planted a couple shrubs in the centre and some plants around the edges, but that was the best Jeff knew he could manage to maintain. It wasn’t really a garden as such, but it had worked to keep his mum happy.

He’d wondered, maybe once or twice, how the boys would maintain it, considering they seemed to inherit his skill in gardening from what he’d remembered and so the last thing he’d expected to see were trees.

Curiosity piqued, he rose and strode around the pool’s edge to take a closer look.

The stone pathway still seemed to run towards the stairs and through to a gap in the trees near the pool, but once you stepped through, the enclosed space originally set aside seemed to double in size. The middle of the path was now replaced with a pond, but the slabs of stone curved around the circular feature and broke off to each side, making four straight paths away from the pond. There were a series of chairs on one part of the lawn and a rockery to the far side that seemed to be full of an army of– were those geraniums?

He hadn’t been aware when he left of any of his family having strong feelings about the pink flower, but hey, he’d missed eight years’ worth of development and choices.

It was better maintained than he’d expected from the boys and some of the plant varieties Jeff couldn’t even name! It was fascinating, and intriguing. From everything he knew and all that he’d recently seen, he didn’t doubt the boys had the artistry and heavy lifting to make such a thing, he was just… bemused, he supposed. Last he remembered, Scott couldn’t even keep a cactus alive, so this much had to be a challenge.

Maybe he was giving the credit to the boys when it had all been his mother’s or Brains’ work. Although, saying that, neither of them would have been able to do something like this alone he didn’t think.

It was all a mystery, but it had a nice view!

He’d made a note to ask the boys, but that evening also brought in the revelation of Kip Harris when he rang on the holo-channel to confirm when he was next coming for dinner, and that was the start of a whole new conversation – led mostly by Gordon (for Virgil was a little starstruck and Jeff didn’t think his mother was faring better) with Alan and Scott chipping in obligatory sound effects and John rolling his eyes from where he didn’t think he could be seen, tuning in up on Five as he ran a check of all the monitoring systems and caught up with EOS.

Apparently, the red head had only come away for a few days at a time in recent years, but from the day Jeff returned with the boys until early this morning, his second child had remained firmly on the ground with them all and he’d promised to be back on the morrow.

Jeff knew John loved Thunderbird Five from the moment it successfully found orbit in space, but he hadn’t ever thought the boy would take to spending so much time up there in recent years.

But then, once again, you haven’t been here for eight years.

------

It wasn’t until the week almost turned into the fourth one since his “return to earth” – as Alan and Gordon had begun to tell time on the calendar, using “before leaving earth” and “since returning to earth” to reference pieces of conversations (and it was helpful for him, not that Jeff would admit that to his trickster pair of children) – that he remembered he’d never asked about the garden.

They’d been swept up in Alan’s graduation and a proper catch up with Lady Penelope and Parker. The old chap never changed and told him all about how he’d taught “Mr Gordon and Mr h’Alan Sir, to drive”, both of which were interesting tales.

Then, Colonel Casey had finally dropped by to visit – after Scott bashfully explained how the island’s location got revealed to her, but Jeff assured him he didn’t care about all that. In all honesty, the woman was a family friend, and he should’ve told her long ago, and most importantly, he was just glad to hear his family came off safe from their encounter with The Hood finding the island.

He and Casey had spoken for a while up in the roundhouse and by the time he headed back in, he was surprised to still hear the chatter of the boys coming from the lounge. Not surprised because that was unusual at all – the five of them had always known how to make noise when together and that didn’t seem to have stopped. It was joyful, a cacophony that he missed in his solitary grey cavern. No, what was surprising about it was that the boys were being so loud so near to dinner time! If there was one thing he’d learnt since being home, it was that the boys were hard to find (unless there was a rescue call) in that dangerous hour their Grandma occupied the kitchen before serving.

So, curious, he carried on up past the kitchen and into the lounge, trying to see if he could earwig what was captivating the boys so, and that was when he heard it.

The sixth voice.

It wasn’t his mother, or Kayo or Brains. They were all voices he was familiar with. Even The Mechanic, who had remained with them for a short stay, had gruff tones that would sound less surprising to hear than the odd, chirp reaching his ears.

As he walked in, it was easy to see his sons gathered round; Alan lounging across the leather chairs with John sat on the sofa beside him whilst Virgil and Gordon sat across from him. Scott was perched on the table and, stood between the eldest and John, taking up the centre of the room, was a complete stranger.

‘Oh, hey dad!’ Gordon called, spotting him first with the vantage of being directly opposite him. Alan promptly dropped his head back as though to confirm that his brother was right, looking at him upside down before blinking in recognition and slinging himself back up with enough speed to give him head rush, Jeff was sure.

‘Hey.’ Alan waved, almost as a way of recovering his near plummet to the floor as he barely managed to catch his grip on the side of the chair.

Gordon and Virgil were sniggering, Scott and John smiling, and the stranger… well, he seemed to fit in amongst his sons… seemed amused at the scene before them also.

For all he seemed an odd fellow, there didn’t see to be anything immediately harmful about the man and from the conversation he’d heard on the way in, it seemed like the boys had met him before. But how did he get here?

‘Uh, dad?’ Virgil’s question floated over to him, and Jeff jolted himself back into the present in time to see his middle child levering himself from the sofa, ‘You ok?’

‘I’m fine, Virgil,’ He held up a hand to halt his boy from approaching. He knew they all worried about him since his return, but he genuinely couldn’t be better. But if Virgil got started now on vitals and temperature there’d be no stopping him. No, he was fine. He was just trying to understand the conundrum of– ‘There’s a man holding a pot plant in my lounge.’

‘Ha, yeah,’ Scott started, filling him with confidence (not), ‘That’s Gladys.’

‘Him?’ He knew it was 2063, and their world had come on leaps and bounds, but–but by the laughter of his sons he’d very much misjudged this one.

‘No, the plant.’ Virgil corrected, motioning to the pot which the man extended further from his chest in response.

‘The– Boys...’ Jeff drawled, lost beyond belief, and wondering a little if he could be dreaming. None of this was making sense.

‘Dad, this is Ned Tedford.’ Finally, he supposed his second son had seen his confusion and John made the formal introduction, rising to stand beside the darker skinned man. ‘He’s our gardener.’

‘Gardener?’

Maybe that made a little bit more sense of the design that seemed to have gone into the outgrow.

‘Yep! That’s me!’ The man – Ned – cheered again, voice loud and bright, before he seemed to stumble, eyes almost visually backtracking over his words. ‘Sir.’

‘You don’t have to call him Sir!’ Gordon chastised, but the gardener was already passing off the pot plant to Scott who fumbled a moment over gripping the ceramic and all the boys seemed to start at the possibility of him dropping it (and it didn’t seem to be over concern for the soil going on the carpet, for goodness sake) whilst Ned – completely unaware of the chaos behind him – held out a hand.

‘Ned Tedford, Sir, at your gardening service.’

‘Right…’

It would be rude not to shake the man’s hand, but he was still trying to process all of this information. Of all the things he’d expected his sons to do in the time he was gone, finding a gardener, hadn’t struck him as one of them.

‘Ned,’ John continued, pulling him back into the room once more, ‘This is our dad, Jeff Tracy.’

Quickly he reached out and shook the man’s hand. He could feel Virgil’s eyes hovering heavily on him with clear question.

‘Jeff Tracy.’ He affirmed, surprised to find that the man had a stronger grip than he’d expected.

‘Mr Tracy. Ned Tedford.’

‘Yes, you said.’

‘Oh, yes, I did, didn’t I.’

But maybe the man wasn’t as confident as he tried to be, given the current bashful display, his eyes suddenly searching round until they landed on his pot plant again, which Scott seemed hasty to return to him and the rest of the boys breathed a sigh of relief at it being returned to the gardener’s hands.

The next thing he knew though, “Gladys” was before his nose.

‘This is Gladys.’

Scott had said… but when the man seemed to feel a little awkward, that seemed a little rude to say. Besides, he couldn’t deny that he still felt a little baffled himself.

‘A geranium?’

‘Yep! The world’s best travelled geranium, Sir!’

Gordon’s palm hit his face, with the mutter of, “you don’t have to call him Sir” again, just about audible.

‘Travelled?’

‘Gladys goes everywhere.’ Alan explained. ‘Like everywhere.’

‘Like, boys?’

‘You know,’ Alan continued, ‘Space.’

‘Underwater.’ Gordon added.

Virgil nodded. ‘The military.’

‘Back to space.’ Scott’s eyes were almost rolling.

‘The North Pole.’ John contributed.

‘And back to space!’ Alan finished.

‘It’s a long story.’ Ned added for himself.

Jeff was just trying to keep up with the brief explanations bouncing between his sons, aware there were many stories he was missing concerning this Ned Tedford.

‘And now earth?’ He assumed given the man’s presence before them.

‘Firmly planted, Sir.’ Ned reassured. Gordon sputtered into laughter that needed Virgil to whack him on the back to steady. ‘It’s all gardening now for us, isn’t that right, Gladys?’

Jeff felt himself blanch. Scott had risen from the table and now passed beside him, close enough for him to mutter, ‘He talks to the plant?’

‘Ah, you get used to it.’ The eldest dismissed, like it was an everyday occurrence.

Scott’s exit didn’t go unnoticed by the youngest who was craning his neck to follow the elder’s steps, his eyes narrowing as the brunette turned towards the stairs before widening as he suddenly vaulted over the back of the chair and zoomed past him.

‘Scott, keep your hands off!’

‘I’m getting the plates, Alan. Just the plates.’

‘If I catch you with a fork in your hand…’

Jeff blinked again.

He knew his boys liked food – in all honesty, they’d probably inherited that from him – but this was his mother’s cooking they were talking about. And he’d been back for a good few weeks: if she’d learnt to cook, he thought he would’ve tasted the difference by now. Which begged the question why an argument seemed to be brewing over what, no doubt, was more “meatloaf surprise”.

‘Alright, have I missed something?’ He asked finally, knowing he had no chance of working this out alone.

‘Uh, yeah!’ Gordon cheered. ‘Ned, can cook.’

Well, that was another revelation he hadn’t been expecting, but it seemed to be something else his boys were accustomed to with the same ease as they were Ned being their gardener.

The man nodded, the pot plant swaying with the motion, still held tightly in his grasp. ‘I brought lasagna. It’s in the oven at the moment.’

‘Lasagna…’ Jeff muttered, feeling more like gravity had done a number on him in these last five minutes than in the five hours immediately after his first foot was back on solid earth.

‘Family favourite.’ Ned pointed out. ‘So I’m told.’

‘Right!’ Gordon cheered, ‘You can’t go wrong with lasagna.’

‘Unless it’s Grandma’s.’ Virgil added and Gordon’s nose scrunched up as the pair of them rose and followed Ned – and Gladys - towards the kitchen.

‘Should be ready about now.’ The gardener agreed as they headed for the stairs. ‘Oh, how’s Gloria and the family doing? Gladys has been wondering.’

‘Oh, they’re doing great!’ Gordon replied immediately, seeming to be well aware who this apparent “Gloria and family” were meant to be, ‘I’ve been following what you said about watering in tropical climates…’

Because that didn’t leave him with more questions than answers at all…

‘Come on dad,’ John encouraged, setting a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to the world of the lounge. ‘Scott and Alan shouldn’t be left in the kitchen alone.’

No, that much he did remember.

------

It was, several hours later, when Jeff was laying in bed that he remembered the pink geraniums in the garden.

But no, surely… maybe he had to consider that the boys had named them.

Yes, Gloria and family indeed.

Although, it was also as he lay there, contemplating sleep, that he had to agree with the boys. Ned could cook.

And it seemed his mother – “do call me Sally, Ned” – didn’t seem to mind being outdone for once.

------

Ned, and Gladys, were still on the island the following morning and serving breakfast he discovered!

And breakfast seemed to be a civilised affair for once with china teacups, and plates of assorted cakes. Well – civilised besides from Scott swatting at the hands of the youngest two every time they tried to reach for a cake, insisting they needed to finish their breakfast first.

Ned seemed to be most in synch with John, but he had his own way of interacting with each of the boys and Jeff was surprised to see someone from outside the family fitting in so well. The air of secrecy to their lives and of living so far out from civilisation were both his doing, and though his sons had never seemed to mind, he’d still had reservations over their schooling and whether they’d have the chance to make any solid friends in life like he had found in Lee and Casey. But it seemed after all this, those reservations had been needlessly placed, for every son was a graduate and seemed to have found their own friends.

(Even if that was a grown man and a pot plant).

Each son was also highly skilled at what they did in the rescue business, yet that one went without saying or concern after all they did for him, to bring him back.

They’d never given up.

And he couldn’t be prouder of them for that.

Now, it felt foreign to eat food without worry or horror for the second time in a row, and to wonder instead at the taste of it.

He learnt that Colonel Casey had brought Ned to the island with her, the boys quoting that it was best for keeping the island secret. He could agree there, but he wasn’t born yesterday and sensed there was something unsaid. It was – when they were finally on the cakes (to Alan and Gordon’s delight) that he got the rest of that story.

Ned was something of a “magnet for trouble”, Gordon had explained, to which Alan had merrily chipped in, “more so than me”!

After initially being hired by John it seemed and working on the garden for a while to turn it from a “jungle-lawn” into what it was today, Ned had made fortnightly, then monthly trips to the island to manage the upkeep of the garden. Scott had explained that if Colonel Casey wasn’t stopping by, he tended to pick Ned up.

‘Can’t the man get a plane?’ He’d asked, and that seemed to be his foolish mistake, but even Ned was laughing.

Scott was outraged, ‘Dad, you’ve got to be joking! International rescue would only be called out to it.’

‘Ned here has a loyalty badge.’ Gordon quipped, and it was then Jeff realised there was clearly a lot more to his son’s acquaintance with this man than he knew, what with so many stories on hold to be told in full.

‘We are sorry about that, aren’t we Gladys?’

Jeff wondered if the man was actually thinking the plant would reply when he left these pauses.

‘We know, Ned.’ John reassured.

‘Besides, it is our job.’ Virgil added.

‘And we haven’t rescued you since you went back to gardening!’

‘Don’t jinx it, Alan!’

‘I’m just saying Gordon–’

‘Well don’t!’ The four elders chorused and even Ned seemed to blanch at the thought.

‘Okay, okay!’ Alan insisted, ‘I’m just saying–’

‘More cake?’ Ned offered quickly, holding a plate of Battenburg round to Alan who took one immediately, previous thought track forgotten.

‘It’s nice of you to bring all this every time you visit, Ned.’ Virgil praised. Jeff wondered just how many visits there had been for this to seem as easy as daily routine to the boys.

‘Yeah,’ Scott agreed quickly. ‘It’s gets us away from the mercy of Grandma’s cooking.’

‘I heard that young man.’ It was Scott’s poor luck it seemed that the very woman was on her way past as he spoke. Jeff saw the way the eldest’s eyes rolled as the youngest pair sniggered.

‘Why is it always me!’

‘Why do you put yourself in that position, Scott?’ John questioned instead, and he wasn’t wrong. For though the eldest could keep himself out of trouble, Jeff remembered Scott had always had a tendency to accidentally fall into the mix. Just like now.

Ned chuckled. ‘Well, after all you’ve done for us, it’s the least we can do for you. Isn’t that right, Gladys?’

The plant didn’t answer. The plant wouldn’t answer! It was infuriating and Jeff was trying to mind his manners not to roll his eyes every time. It was true testament that his boys were used to this as not one of them seemed to blink at the plant being drawn into the folds of conversation. Maybe more concerning should have been that his son’s didn’t tend to speak in these immediate pauses either…

‘I’m just glad you’re not hiding it all away on Thunderbird Five.’ Gordon stated, taking two slices of cake from the proffered plate.

‘That was one time.’ John answered firmly as Ned set the plate down and rose with the kettle to refill their cups. Jeff noted that the man seemed to know exactly how his sons liked their relevant teas and coffees, moving round them and serving faultlessly.

‘Um, I count Two.’

‘They’re never letting you live it down, bro.’ Scott murmured.

‘Its’s a good thing Thunderbird Three was refuelled!’

‘It was a good thing you didn’t crash it in your rush, Alan.’ Virgil stated, bringing the volume of the younger right down as Scott’s eyes flicked over also.

‘You guys wanted cake too.’ Alan mumbled in a moan, arms folding over his chest in a – compared to what Jeff remembered of him – contained strop.

‘How is Gladys’ good friend?’ Ned asked finally and Jeff blinked, frowning. What friend could a pot plant possibly have?

‘EOS is good, thank you.’

John’s AI. Of course. That only made sense, the father supposed.

‘Gladys can’t wait to come back up. Try out our space legs again!’

Jeff wondered if he should be worried about the man going up to Thunderbird Five – given all the stories he’d half-heard about the boys rescuing him, but John didn’t seem bothered by the man inviting himself back (which wasn’t like the red head not to bat an eye at) – because without needing to be told, he could hear it wouldn’t be the first time.

‘EOS will be glad to have you. She’s got a timer set to remind me about the plants.’

‘I still can’t believe you’re managing to grow space flora.’ Scott muttered, his tone saying everything he thought about it.

‘You’re just annoyed they’ve proved you wrong.’

‘Of course I am, Virge! It’s space and flowers. When have those two ever gone together?’

‘Well–’

‘I don’t need the science again, John.’ Scott ceased the younger promptly. ‘It gave me a bad enough headache last time.’

Jeff saw the way John smirked and sneakily accepted the homemade ginger biscuits from Ned as the gardener set the kettle back and snuck behind the second child on the way to his own seat at the table where Gladys still rested on her pedestal. Hmm, yes, whether it was because John was responsible for getting Ned the job (as he’d learnt) or whatever connection the plant and the AI shared, it seemed certain that of all his sons, Ned and John had the strongest of friendship. Jeff was honestly just pleased to see John have a friend outside of the family.

‘It will be one of my great achievements.’ Ned cheered. ‘Me – first gardener in space!’

‘Don’t forget first gardener for International Rescue!’ Gordon chirped in, sounding equally as excited about it, and Alan was nodding around his mouthfuls of cake.

‘International Gardening Services!’

Jeff blinked, confused, but relieved that Ned didn’t seem to be trading under that name. His confusion was clearly noticed as the youngest pair chuckled, and Scott waved it off as another “tell you later”, along with the myriad of rescues they’d clearly undertaken for the man in the years he’d been gone. Gordon – of all the boys! – was adamant it was rude to retell the rescues whilst Ned was with them. Virgil had later suggested to him that what Gordon actually meant was that it would be rude to retell them as they’d come to remember them. Jeff could only imagine what chaos they meant had been ensuing whilst he lived in another galaxy.

‘I am most thankful to you boys for the job.’

‘We’re thankful you took it.’ Virgil replied, and Gordon was all sniggers again.

‘Yeah, before any more plant murders happened.’

‘There could still be one Gordon.’ Scott seethed, but Ned carried on like the argument wasn’t occurring – as was most uncivilised – across the table between his two boys.

‘Oh, it’s been an absolute honour–’

If he spoke to the plant–

‘– Isn’t that right, Gladys?’

–that was it!

------

Jeff was surprised – though relieved - they’d managed to go without receiving a rescue call for the duration of Ned’s stay so far. It wasn’t so much the man knowing their secrets that concerned him at this stage. It was rather the fact that it was nice to see his boys being boys. Well – men for the elder half, but still. These were sights he’d missed for too long, and he’d happily be greedy for once in his life and soak them in as easily as Gordon did the sun when sat by the poolside.

After Scott and Gordon’s argument had been peace kept by John, the eldest had snuck off, insisting he needed to check all the maintenance was done on Thunderbird One, just in case of a call and Gordon had insisted it was time he went for a swim anyway.

“With the amount of cake you’ve eaten, yeah,” Alan had cajoled and Gordon had thrown a tea towel at the younger as he went by, causing the blonde to race after him. John and Ned had headed up to the lounge. John was itching to check in with EOS and make sure everything was okay, and Ned had decided to tag along because “Gladys would love a chance to say hello, wouldn’t you, Gladys?”. And just like that, he and Virgil were left in the quiet of the kitchen, and “with all the dishes too!” as Virgil had pointed out, his very tone sounding wronged.

A few hours passed before they were all back together. Ned had been waylaid a little while by his mother insisting upon catching up with him also. Jeff soon realised their heading was the kitchen and that gave him some hope that dinner tonight could be edible also, especially when Ned came back with the idea that they would be eating fish pie – which his sons reassured him Grandma didn’t tend to cook.

By then tensions between Scott and Gordon seemed to have defused somewhat and Jeff was ready to be able to tour the gardens with them in peace.

The boys were pleased to show it off to him now, pointing out the places that had been remodelled and anything they’d done to assist. Virgil had drawn up a lot of the plans it seemed with John in charge of the calculations. Scott, Gordon and Alan had ended up on the supply runs, and Ned had done all the real work in telling them what to buy and what would or wouldn’t be plausible.

‘There were many options once I cleared away the jungle, Mr Tracy.’ Ned finally finished the explanation.

‘Was it that bad?’ He asked.

John shrugged. ‘We never took a photo.’

‘I knew we should have!’ Alan moaned.

‘There was nothing photo-worthy.’ Was Virgil’s returning argument.

‘It would have been interesting to look back on.’ Scott mused.

‘What? The results of your murder scene?’

‘Gordon I am serious about the Geraniums!’

‘You leave Gloria, Gillian, Giles, Gerry and Ted alone!’

Yes, Gordon was indeed pointing to the rockery family of pink geraniums, where the potted Gladys was also currently residing. Somehow, it didn’t surprise Jeff that Gordon was the one with the attachment.

‘Scott.’ John cautioned.

‘What? I didn’t start it!’

‘But you don’t have to antagonise him.’

‘Dad, you have to see what we did with the stairway!’ Virgil interrupted, latching onto him and dragging him forward.

‘Mine is the best!’

‘Shh Alan! Don’t ruin the surprise for him.’

‘It is very good, Mr Tracy.’ Ned insisted. The man had finally stopped trying to call him sir, but the formality of the address still hadn’t changed.

‘Oh boy, here we go.’ He heard Scott mutter from behind them as John and Gordon followed along. He noticed that unlike talking about the pond and the geraniums (as the youngest pair had happily done), that this interest seemed to be primarily Virgil’s and it made him wonder what they could be going to look at besides a set of stone stairs. Not that he wanted to say that when the excitement was so palpably felt by his sons and the gardener.

The boys led him to the end of the stone pathway within the garden lawn and towards the stairs on the far side and through the trees that obscured the staircase. And ready as he had been to see this “grand feature”, he’d truly not expected it to be… well, topiary.

And not the topiary you would expect to find in the average garden, he was sure.

It left him more than a little speechless.

Following the stairs up, rows of trees has been planted on each side and, in matching sets, topiaries of the Thunderbirds cut: Thunderbird One all the way up to Thunderbird Five up towards the top of the stairs.

Jeff blinked again but the sight didn’t change.

No, he was actually looking at what he thought he was.

Goodness help him.

‘What do you think, father?’ Virgil asked, face full of glee. ‘I made the Thunderbird Two’s.’

‘They’re very good son.’

‘We each made our own Thunderbirds!’

‘They’re all good, Gordon.’

‘But what if you had to pick a favourite, dad?’

‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly, Alan.’

‘Ned helped. He taught us how to make the shapes.’

‘Virge, you had a head start.’ Gordon grumbled.

‘I learnt nothing from that gardener like I learnt from Ned!’

‘Doesn’t change the fact you made a Thunderbird Two topiary before.’

‘It was smaller than this!’

‘It was still topiary.’

‘Yeah, and I still haven’t forgiven you for–’

‘Is this another long story?’ Jeff muttered to John beside him, for he was the only one (besides Ned) still close enough and of who would avoid the non-sensical answer: for Ned seemed to be torn between laughing and shaking his head, his arms folded as he looked on; Alan was lost to fits of giggles; and Scott had tried to intervene before it became a “scrap” only for Virgil to accuse “you’re just as much to blame!”. To which Scott had retorted, “What did I do? Gordon was driving”. Which had been promptly and unhelpfully followed with “you two always were Parker’s worst students”. And Jeff didn’t think much of anything had been avoided.

‘Yeah dad, it’s a long story about the topiary.’ John answered, ‘Although, the way this is looking, I may have time to tell you.’

‘I’ll save your brothers then shall I, and you can tell me later over cocoa?’

‘I’ll hold you to that, dad.’

Jeff nodded, looking forward to another late evening with the second child. It would remind him of when they used to stargaze together. But first, he was going to be reminded of the days his son’s squabbles were still for dad to resolve.

‘Alright boys, settle down. I don’t need any more “long stories” to add to the list.’

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 1 year

Text

Happy Birthday Juan

Sons of Anarchy Masterlist

This is very short, but I hope everyone likes it. This is the fic for the poll a few months ago.

Contains: Fluff on fluff on fluff, very mild angst.

1.5K words

You make sure Juice has the best birthday ever.

You made sure to climb out of bed with the quiet of a church mouse, hoping last night's pre-birthday "gift" had tired Juice out enough that he would say asleep.

It must have worked because you managed to slip on your clothes and brush your teeth before heading out of the bedroom. Happy was already at the counter, having stayed the night after a nice dinner due to "bike troubles."

"I need a favor."

Happy offered you a soft smile, "I think I know what you're going to ask me little girl but go a head."

You smiled, "I have a plan for Juice's birthday, I need you to find some reason to stay the night tomorrow. I'd ask one of the others but they can't keep secrets for shit."

Happy chuckled, "I can do that, what are you planning?"

You went into detail, Happy nodding along, pausing to add his two cents now and then.

He was taking his head as you finished, "and how do you plan to keep him asleep for the first part of this?"

You gave Happy a look, "we're going to play Uno all night long, how the fuck do you think Hap? I spend a lot of money of some very fancy underwear and I'm going to put it to good use."

Happy was unfazed, "alright then, how about I tell the guys while you're busy with that, that way we don't have to do everything?"

You shoved his shoulder lovingly, "we make a great team."

Happy sighed, "yeah yeah, you've already roped me in, no need to butter me up more."

You started making breakfast while Happy called Chibs, making sure to be as quiet as you could so you didn't wake Juice. It took a little longer than usual, but Happy didn't take long on his phone call, so he helped. As you just placed the last egg on the plate, you heard the door open and Juice came out rubbing his face.

"Happy birthday dearest, I made you breakfast."

Juice smiled and walked over to you, pressing his lips to your cheek, "I am one lucky man." He sat down and tucked in while you put in the second part of your plan.

Chibs showed up a few minutes after Juice had finished breakfast with the tow truck for Happy's bike, doing his best to look sad. He sat at the table with a sigh and looked at Juice, "I'm sorry man, I know you were planning to spend your day with your girl, but we've had a rush of parts that need to be inventoried."

You made a sad face, "really, can't you call in someone else to do it?"

Chibs shook his head, "sorry lass, we need all hands on deck."

Juice sighed, "it's alright, we've had this happen before, I should be home by four."

You walked over and gave Juice a hug, glaring at Chibs as his smile widened as if to say, "don't blow this."

Juice walked away a little crestfallen and you moved on to stage three.

****

Juice arrived at T-M to a small surprise, Chibs had led him to believe that there were wall-to-wall boxes, but the shipment wasn't much bigger than average. Jax walked over and gave me a hug, "sorry man, I knew you had plans today but we need to get this shit done."

Juice nodded, "it's fine, it won't take us long."

****

"Wow, you're really going all out." Lyla looked over the ingredients on the counter with a smile on her face.

You smiled back, "I wanted to cook all his favourites, Happy's giving me updates, we have a few hours before he gets home." You picked up the sugar and butter, "I'll do the caramel if you tackle cake batter?"

She nodded, "done. What's after that?"

You thought for a moment, "I have to put the stew in the pressure cooker and make the mix for the pot stickers. This won't take long so I'm hoping we'll be done with most of the stuff in the next two hours."

Lyla smiled, "that sounds like a plan."

****

Juice called you on his lunch break and you did your best to keep the noise down so he wouldn't catch on, "how's your day been handsome?"

You could hear his smile, "better now that I'm talking to you, they guys are trying to take it easy on me but I'm not sure when I'll be home."

BEEEEEEEEEEEP

Oh shit, the oven

"What was that dollface?"

You and Lyla shared a look, "I'm making myself some tuna toast, sorry about that."

There was a pause and you could hear the disappointment in his voice, "oh, but you'll stay on the phone until my break is done right?"

You felt your heart hurt, but you buried it, "of course, it will stay warm for ages. Have you gotten any gifts yet?"

You knew he hadn't, you have carefully hidden all his gifts from the guys in the spare room, "no, I don't think they got me anything, I didn't ask anyway."

You took a deep breath, it was taking everything not to blurt out the truth, "we'll see, maybe they'll give you something before you leave."

There was a shout in the background, his lunch break was done, "I gotta go, I'll see you later. Love you."

"Love you too Juicy."

He sounded a bit deflated when he hung up so you went back to work, you were going to make sure today was the best birthday he had ever had.

****

Juice felt his mood drop as the day went on, by the time the guys started to leave his birthday really felt like any other day. He could tell his friends were trying, they let him have the first pick of the donuts, they didn't ask him to do as much as they normally would but it was still a disappointment, you had been telling him for weeks that you were going to make sure today was a good day.

To top it off, his partner at clear passages had called him just as he and Jax were locking up to tell him that something was wrong and that he needed to come by.

He called you just before he got on his bike, hoping that hearing your voice would give him the mood boost he needed to keep going, "hey dollface, I got bad news."

He could hear noise in the background but he figured it was just the TV, "oh no, what's wrong." You knew what was wrong, nothing, the Clear Passages "problem" was just a detour so everyone could be there by the time Juice got home.

"A bunch of money's been stolen at the weed shop, I'll probably be there till late tonight."

You did your best to sound sad, "I'm sorry Juicy, how about we take the weekend off to make up for all this? We can go to that little country house we love so much."

There was a pause and then his mood picked up, "I'd love that, I'll be home as soon as I can. Love you y/n."

"Love you too Juicy."

****

When Juice got to Clear Passages, he was surprised there were no police there. He ran up to his partner, who offered him a slightly embarrassed smile, "I'm sorry, I miscounted then, in a panic, put half of the cash down and walked away, then I forgot where I had left it. False alarm."

Juice breathed a sigh of relief, "no worries man, I'm gonna head back home, it's been a long day."

His partner nodded, "sure, happy birthday Juice."

Juice waved his hand, "thanks."

****

You were lucky Juice pulled up to the house when he did because you didn't think you could hold it in any longer. You shooed back room and sat on the couch, doing your best to act natural as he opened the door, "you're home early, I thought something was wrong?"

Juice shot you a wide smile and opened his arms for a hug, "nah, nothing was wrong." You hugged him as hard as you could and he must have picked up on something because he pulled away and looked over your face, "what are you up to?"

Your eyes went wide, "nothing, nothing at all. Just don't go into the spare room whatever you do."

There was no signs of what was going on around that house and everyone had parked their cars and bikes in the backyard so Juice couldn't see them when he drove in. He brushed pasted you and placed his hand on the door to the spare room as you held back a smile.

He smirked at you and flung it open "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!"

There was a burst of streamers and Juice's face broke out into a grin, "I fucking knew it, I knew you were planning something." Everyone was there and the room was decked out with balloons and decorations, there was a table piled high with gifts and something off to the side that looked suspiciously like some had tried to wrap a motorbike.

You smiled and walked up to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "I hope you didn't because this took weeks to plan but knowing these guys, they gave it away."

Juice captured you in a kiss and you leaned into it, placing you hand on the back of his head as he deepened it.

The crowd broke into a cheer and you separated from each other, "Happy birthday my love."

Fin

#juice ortiz #soa imagine #juice ortiz fanfic #fluff #sons of anarchy imagine #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fluff #soa #samcro #juice Ortiz fluff #juice ortiz x reader #juice ortiz imagine #theo rossi #juice ortiz x you

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jakes3resin · 27 days

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I just finished reading Garden in My Heart and it was beautiful, your writing made me cry with happiness. I haven't felt emotions in a fic for so long and it was worth every second. The letters that Gale wrote to John are beautiful, the way you wrote to Bucky is magnificent, I can feel his emotions, his feelings, his anguish at thinking that his loved one didn't love him, I felt his happiness when Buck left him. I declare. I look forward to the next arc. I hope you can give us a spoiler for the London arch

This message is so lovely, thank you 🧡 I love hearing about how readers felt when they read what I wrote. It's truly the best experience for me.

I will apologize in advance for the next arc. It's going to break your heart (and if it doesn't Stalag Arc will)

Oh, a London spoiler? Since you're so lovely, I just might add a spoiler or two (or more). I'll put them under read more just in case some people don't want any spoilers

So in London arc, we're gonna see Buck gifting Bucky one more gift (this I've already spoiled in one of my other asks so I'll give a few better spoilers)

It's not going to be solely Bucky's POV, I think. I want to write at least a portion of it in Gale's. I'm still in planning stages right now (I honestly took a mental health day away from my writing today after pouring so much soul into Courting Fic) but I know that Gale will have his own little section to wax poetic about his Omega. He's going to worry about Bucky so much once he sees how much this war is taking from them all.

I will be including the Bucky pregnancy scare because honestly the idea makes me laugh, and London Arc will be kinda heartbreaking as Bucky starts to feel the effects of the war.

I may (may I say, this is set not in stone it's just in my planning doc) include a heat scene. Bucky will have an interesting time, and if I do include it, this will set up a parallel that will be seen in Stalag Arc.

And! We'll get to see more of Brady! The fandom assigned baby bro of Bucky will appear, and he will be so over the lovestruck mooning of the Bucks. (I only included him in one line in courting fic because I needed to focus on my main trio my apologies Brady fans) he's one of my favorites as well and I'll be setting up his bigger role in Stalag Arc.

There you go, lovely anon! A deluge of spoilers straight from my planning doc!

#asks #buck x bucky #i love spoilers so much #ill probably take another break day tomorrow just to not burn myself out #but i will be accepting asks and messages if anyone wants to talk England Arc #its going to be like the english summer weather rainy with days of sunshine that drive you wild

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neyswxrld · 5 months

Text

reindeer family

Omega & reader (gn) - platonic!! ofc

summary: Crafting Christmas cards with Omega!

warnings: none, it's just fluff

word count: ~750

advent calendar masterlist

a/n: this is the eigth fic for my advent calendar! i can't wait for the 24th or 23rd when i realize i have to make a few cards for my grandma and get stressed out.

p.s. english isn't my mother tongue, sorry for misspellings!

You are sitting at your table. There are different things scattered around. Papers in various colors and sizes, some glitter, stickers, pens, water colors, felt markers... In short, everything a person would need to craft lovely Christmas cards. In the background, you can hear Christmas songs, adding to the whole mood.

Next to you is Omega. She excitedly wiggles her feet while eating one cookie after another. You were a bit scared she would get a stomach ache at first, but she insists she has one made of steel. So you hope she will still feel well after the amount of sugar.

"What kind of card do you want to make?" You ask, pointing at some of the references you opened on your data pad.

Omega takes a look, scrolling through different pictures before stopping at one. A big smile spreads on her lips as she shows you the picture.

Two reindeer made out of fingerprints in front of some colorful fairy lights.

"Can we make this? I could draw a bandana on this one, then it's Hunter and me!" she asks, excited. Smiling, you nod and help her prepare everything. You're happy that your idea to make Christmas cards makes her so happy.

"Then I'll make one for Wrecker. I could make one with a reindeer too, or I'll make one with presents! He said he's really excited about them," she already thinks about the next one before suddenly gasping, "I'm going to make reindeer in front of presents!"

"Uuuh, yeah, that sounds great," you say, smiling and painting some color on her thumb.

After that, she carefully presses her finger on some white paper. She concentrates on the task and puts another fingerprint next to the other.

After making another two, she looks at you again.

"I could make one for Tech with messy wires on his antlers! And goggles! And Echo gets one with some cybernetic legs and a Christmas tree in the background!" she continues, putting her thumb in front of you again so you could recolor it.

After quite some time, she finished the fingerprints for four of the cards. Just as she wants to put her thumb on a fifth one, she hesitates. A sad look crosses her face.

"What's up?" you ask, a little bit concerned at the sudden switch in her mood.

"It's nothing... It's,- it's just that Crosshair isn't that long with us again. I don't really know what he likes...," she mumbles. Her nose crinkles, just matching said brother's perfectly.

"Hm... He likes his rifle. And his toothpicks," you put your thoughts into words.

Omega puts her hand on her chin, making a thinker's pose, not realizing that she smudges the brown paint all around her face.

"Yeah, that's right, but that's the obvious choice," she comments, tapping her chin again.

"Isn't it with the others too?" you ask her, a little bit rhetorically.

"I'm sure Crosshair will be happy about every card you give him," you add. Still a bit uncertain, she nods. "Okay. You're right. Maybe I'll come up with something when I have finished the others." She presses her new-colored thumb on the last Christmas card.

For the next half hour, she is busy painting the small details on the reindeer and cutting out different shapes of colorful paper to decorate the background.

In the end, she decides to make a Crosshair reindeer, too, with a toothpick and his tattoo. Next to it, she cuts out his rifle, puts some glitter on it, and adds some small hearts.

"Perfect!" she grins, showing you all of her cards again, already putting another cookie in her mouth.

"Now, I need to make some more for my friends from school... But no reindeer anymore. They're just for family," she says thoughtfully while looking at your reference pictures again.

By the end of the day, you two had made a few funny, colorful cards and left a mess on the table. You weren't looking forward to cleaning that up. But it was worth it. You had some bonding time with Omega and cute little Christmas cards out of it.

The whole thing gains value on Christmas day when you see all the happy faces of her brothers while looking into their cards. Even Crosshair seems to be touched, if you can read the softness in his eyes correctly.

When Omega comes over to you and gives you your own card, you can't stop the happy tears that suddenly rise in your eyes.

Two reindeer, sitting at a table, crafting Christmas cards.

TAGLIST:

@isthereanechoinhere96

#omega bad batch #bad batch omega #omega fanfic #omega fanfiction #tbb omega #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch fanfic #tbb fanfiction #tbb fanfic #tbb #crafting christmas cards #christmas cards #reindeer #all i want for christmas advent calendar #star wars #star wars advent calendar #tbb advent calendar

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greentrickster · 7 months

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When looking for fanfics on AO3, specifically ones catered to your taste in a fandom/interest, how do you go about? Any tips on how to scout “good” stories from than “mediocre”?

First off, make sure you know what you want and what you're looking for! Choose your fandom, what characters you want to see, what relationships (romantic are A/J, platonic are A&J for formatting), rating, length, any of those that you have a specific preference for, make it known! When searching AO3 on PC, there's a whole bar of drop-down menus so you can choose all of these things you want to include AND anything you want to exclude:

If a tag you want to see or avoid isn't there, there's a place to search for and then add it as well. You also have a few options for how the fics you get are sorted as well - update date, word count, kudos count, comments, bookmarks, etc. There are also a few more options, but the image is already big enough - seriously, AO3 lets you customize your search so much, even if you don't add AO3dr to use their blacklisting function.

Myself, I usually put in my relationship preferences, exclude a few warnings, then organize by number of bookmarks or comments. I'll do a quick scan of the first three to four pages, clicking the 'mark for later' button inside the fics on anything that seems promising until I have anywhere between eight and a couple dozen fics.

After that? The reading begins, but the process isn't over! Because if one of the fics I read turns out to be really good, the next step isn't to go back to my 'marked for later' list, it's to go to the writer's dashboard, see if they've written anything else for this fandom that sounds good, read anything of theirs that sounds good, and when I'm finished that check their bookmarks page for anything they've read and bookmarked for this fandom, marking things for later until I've gone through the whole thing, then choosing a new fic from my now (hopefully) expanded marked for later list and repeating the whole process all over again. This generally keeps me, at least, well fed and well read when it comes to fics!

Sometimes I also add my preferences in the AO3 search and just take a peek at what's come out recently, even if it's incomplete - yes, you'll be left wanting at times if the story's unfinished, but it's worth it to get to accompany other writers and readers on the journey of a really good ongoing fic and getting a delightful update notification in you inbox from time to time. :D

(I should note, what makes a fic 'good' or 'mediocre' is at least partially subjective. I've seen loads of fics that have obviously been widely read and well loved by many, but they weren't to my taste.)

Also, keep in mind the age of the fan base a piece of media is aimed towards - The Owl House is generally going to have a lower overall quality of writing than, say, Ace Attorney, not because one is objectively superior to the other (they're both fantastic and I would pay money to see Phoenix defend Eda in court), but because one's aimed at kids and young teens and the other's aimed at older teens and adults. And one of these demographics is going to have had more practice with writing than the other. It's worth going through both still, they both have plenty of great fics, but it helps to enter a younger-aimed fandom with a more lenient frame of mind.

Anyway, that's all the advice that I've got, and I hope it helps! Thanks for the ask!

#fandom #ao3 #fanfiction #ask #anon #I specifically only cover AO3 because I have abandoned fanfiction.net #and I have no idea how to make any other website spit out what I want on command including this one <3

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seasy33 · 4 months

Note

For the fanfic asks, 5 and 16!

thank you for asking!! :)

5. Which WIP is the first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

i have the mixtape fic coming in February (that i'm still in the brainstorming process) but i also have a couple that i'm close to finishing and/or updating that i hope to be up in the next week! the one that i'm the furthest along in is a post-canon one shot that i'll post a snippet of below the keep reading line :)

16. Do you have that one fanfic that you wrote a ton for, ages ago, but never posted? Will this be the year, come hell or high water, that it WILL get finished and posted?

hmmm i think the oldest one that i've written the most for but never posted is my flashdrive fic for the prompt that i shared with @mostlymaudlin !! i really like this fic because the neil i wrote for it and the situation is suuuper interesting to me. i hit a really big wall with it a few months ago, but it's about 15k and 2/3 of the way done. i think i just need one big push to finish it off, so i really hope i can post it sometime this year!

Neil is far too chipper for someone who got decked in the face at one in the morning last night.

He glides across the court, chasing after every ball Andrew smacks away from the goal on feet that barely seem to touch the ground, ceaselessly calling out plays. He's electric, thrumming with an energy that permeates the air. Andrew can taste it like static on his tongue. The challenge of it all raises the hair on the back of his neck, coils somewhere low in his gut.

It's not unpleasant. It is annoying.

The rest of the Foxes are decidedly less enthused about today's practice on this regular Tuesday afternoon. From Andrew's view point, it's slumped shoulders and chests heaving for breaths across the board. Even Kevin's knees buckle as Neil calls for their already over-long scrimmage game to reset again. Still, the complaints have been minimal so far, everyone seemingly caught up in the silent question blazing in Neil's every movement, every flash of his eyes:

Can you keep up?

Andrew has an advantage as being in goal requires less cardio than the others (to the eternal gratefulness of Andrew's smoker's lungs), but even his muscles have started to spasm, his racquet heavy in his hands, swooping in wider and slower movements as lethargy presses down on him.

He's soaked in sweat. It pours down from his hairline, stinging his eyes, but he doesn't have time to do more than blink it away. The ball is served down court and it's only seconds before he's squaring up again, toeing the line as a figure darts out of the pack toward him, easily putting a couple feet, then yards between themself and the others.

Andrew zeroes in, locked in to the direction of Neil's feet, the pace of his strides, the line of his shoulders.

Then at the last moment, Neil turns on a dime and launches his shot to the upper right corner.

Andrew is a second behind, too slow, and he is basked in the soft red glow of defeat as the ball bounces away.

"Had enough?"

Andrew can hear the smirk in Neil's voice as he lets his momentum carry him the rest of the distance to the goal, long loping strides bringing him even sharper into Andrew's focus.

Andrew's retort gets stuck behind his teeth, the sight of Neil's face has him clenching his jaw, biting down hard on his mouthguard until the edges scrape against his gums and his next swallow tastes metallic.

Neil's right cheek is a study of mottled tragedy under the shadow of his helmet. The swelling has gone down, but the bruise circling halfway around his eye, creeping over his cheekbone and the bridge of his nose has only intensified since this morning, a blue-black smudge that spreads like ink out into deep purples and reds, edges tinted a sickly yellow. It's hideous in its beauty, the way it off-sets Neil's eyes, making them burn, scorching. It adds to the allure of his already marked face, even as it ruins it; a painting marred by a spill of kaleidoscopic colors, a lovely catastrophe.

Andrew remembers the guilty blush of his own knuckles in the harsh overhead light. Even though at the moment they're hidden by his bulky goalie gloves, he knows that they're split. They've darkened and colored just like Neil's face -- a matched set. A one-two snapshot of a story written into their skin.

thanks again for asking moonie!! <3

#writing #my writing #asks #all for the game

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malleleothreesome · 4 months

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So I scrolled down and just met you through your stage sex fic and scrolled through and couldn't find the pt.2 and it has been a month but I only met you today and I haven't read anything else just yet but I will but my question is will there be a pt.2 cause you have me frothing at the mouth for him and if I have to commission u to do it I will!

Hi!!! Thank you both so much for your interest in my fic. @starshiningsirius ahaha I'm truly honored that you would consider paying me for my work 😅💖 It means a lot to me! Unfortunately, I have not started working on part 2 yet. YET!! I promise I'll get it out to you, I still have interest in finishing it. I'm feeling just like a little... blocked on it.

I think it's because I'm unsure of how kinky to make it. I think there are two camps—people who want 3rd years in the audience, and people who don't. Ever since it was first suggested to me, I think having 3rd years in the audience is a really fun suggestion. Tbh, if it was up to me (which I guess it IS adbjasbdiu but that doesn't necessarily mean I'll go through with it)... I think it would really tie into the story if I had 3rd years forced to sit in the audience as they slowly turned into wood 💀 But I know that's like an extremely kinky thing (and really morbid) to do and theres a lot of ppl who would be like 'ew Erica wtf is wrong with you?' (Also if I have Lilia turning to wood I guess he can't film the show for Malleus so like 🤔🤨🧐)—See I have lots of varying ideas.

I also thought about making a separate post that was like "How would 3rd years react to seeing you on stage having sex with Fellow" and that would give all 3rd years a chance to shine while also keeping things separate for people who don't want to read that. I don't know!!! Please feel free to comment or send me an ask with your suggestions! I mean, I'm even open to the idea of including more than just the 3rd years (I know the Tweels are very beloved characters even though I myself am not into them) but I know that creates even MORE of an ick for other people.

My fear is: now that we are getting deep into the smut of it all, I know everyone has very specific tastes, wants, needs, & icks when it comes to sex, so I'm filled with trepidation when trying to come up with the rest of the plot. Since I separated it into part 1 and part 2, I'm kind of afraid of writing something that will ruin part 2 for people who enjoyed part 1 and were eagerly anticipating part 2. Does that make sense? So I'm thinking about it too deeply, and therefore, I am feeling blocked on starting because I want to come up with something that will please everyone.

Like, if I had just released the whole story from the start, people could have chosen not to read it at all if the content warnings weren't their vibe, but noooow... people who read it already are invested in the outcome of part 2. Ah, the pressure! 😩

Realistically, I know I can't please everyone, but I'm still very new to writing (I've only been posting on here around 2 months now!) and I still have that eagerness to want to strive to make everyone happy. So, I guess it's something I have to work through and get over as a writer.

Also, I've been having fun ignoring my Stage Sex Part 2 anxieties by writing completely different prompts for my writing event going on right now lol. However, I think I'll rip the metaphorical band-aid off starting next year (aka like in a few days lol) and just start writing part 2. Hopefully my blockage will melt away and I'll be able to come up with something I'm happy with! At the end of the day, my main goal is to make reader x Fellow have AMAZING sex, so I guess I'll start with that and see what other things I want to add to spice things up at the end.

Again, thank you both so much for your interest, it means the world to me. I hope to get Part 2 out to you ASAP and I hope I can write something that you really enjoy!

#‧͙+ ̊*・༓☾ Erica Answers ☽༓・* ̊+‧͙#this is so long sorry #as you can see i have a LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS!!!!

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kyberconfessions · 1 year

Text

No Matter Where You Go, I Will Find You. Part 7

A/N: Wow everyone! The feed back I recieved today was crazy! I'm so glad so many people hae enjoyed my story! I didn't think anyone was really reading this, so I kept it to myself. But, you've proven me wrong! Once again, the amazing banner was made by Saradika. and, can I just say this now...the heartbreak is ALMOST done, I promise. We're are about to hit that bump. ALSO! if you would like to be added to my taglist, please send me an ask and I'll add you!

As always, this is a 18+ older fic and deals with anxiety, death, sex, PTSD, murder, loss, found family, Order 66, and coming to terms. This is not just a fluff fic. It will very much be dealing with very dark and hard themes, so please, if that is something that can be too hard for you, don’t read. Pairings: Rex x Reader x Cody (polyamory) I should say this is NOT a Rex x Cody fic. There will be ZERO Clonecest on this blog or story. Reader is a consensual relationship with Rex and with Cody. Yes they share, yes they will eventually have sex together, but Cody and Rex are NOT in a relationship nor will they be intimate. TW: Death, Murder, infanticide, death of the Jedi, PTSD, Loss, Anxiety, eating disorders, sleep disorders, Order 66, angst, but ends in fluff. I will add other things as I think about them

Part 7 - The Horrors of War

Obi-Wan stood across from you, a helmetless Cody at his side, the blue light of the battle plans bathing them in a ghostly pallor. Gregor stood next to you, bucket under his arm, listening intently as the General laid out the groundwork for Sarrish. You and your men in Foxtrot were going in to try and help sway the battle. It had already been a horrible, bloody fight, but the 212th Attack Battalion wasn’t going to give up so easily. “Young one, I want you and your men to flank the left side of the trench, while Cody and his men come from the east.” He gestured to different placements on the map, before zooming in towards the trench where he wanted you to go, “If we can cut them off from reinforcements, we might be able to win this battle.” You and Gregor nodded, listening intently to your Master’s orders.

“Cody, do not try to take the guns from the ground. If you look here,” again he zoomed the map out and then back in towards a towering rock face, “This is a promontory on the south side with a pathway in, that is far more dangerous and will cost an unnecessary amount of our men’s lives if you go in that way on foot. It might look appealing, but it will lead to certain death. Focus on the enemy lines here and here, with our gunships. I believe if we attack from two sides, and break their ranks, we will have a better chance of taking Sarrish back.”

Cody studied the battle plans, nodding along to what Obi-Wan said. You all knew this was going to be much more dangerous than any battle so far. “Hey Adi’ka,” Gregor leaned in and whispered in your ear, “wanna bet Cody is going to roundhouse a few clankers and have the medbay up in arms about it...again?” You covered your face when a giggle threatened to break out. “Only if you take a bet that Master Kenobi is going to pretend that the 20 cups of caf he’s downed in the last six hours isn’t going to make him vibrate through a wall.” You and Gregor were so busy giggling and cracking jokes that you missed the annoyed look from Cody. “Captain Gregor, Commander, is there anything you would like to add to the briefing? Or are you two finished?” Cody glared at both of you, far too tired and stressed to entertain your joking attitude. Gregor stood up straighter and leaned away from you. “Uh, no. No Marshall Commander. Just, uh, just ready to get in there and break some clankers, is all.” Cody didn’t answer, only raised his eyebrow at you with a glare, detached resentment clear on his face. Though he loved you, there were times you weren't sure he actually liked you. Sometimes you wondered if he would eventually tire of you and move on. The look in his eye and slight sneer of his lip wasn't helping.

You glanced away, biting your lip, but soon caught the gaze of your Master. “Sorry, Master.” your eyes fell away from the tired look Obi-Wan was giving you and started studying the leather ties on your shoes. “This mission is far more dangerous than what we have dealt with before, my young Padawan. I want you to be as prepared as you can be. One wrong move can cost us our lives.” If there was one thing that could get you to feel like you weren’t doing your best, it was that tone of voice from Obi-Wan Kenobi.

“Yes, Master.”

Obi-Wan and Cody went back to discussing the upcoming battle, going over every inch of the map. You swallowed thickly, trying to fight off the sting of tears in your eyes. You hated disappointing them. But lately it seemed as if that's all you did. Everything you did was wrong and you didn’t know why. You tried to do right, but you were beginning to crack and you were too afraid to ask for help. You were just tired. You just needed a break. All of Foxtrot did. Hopefully, after the campaign, you and your men could get some shore leave. Maybe then you could fix things. Maybe Cody and you could find some common ground. Maybe you wouldn't be such a disappointment to him. Maybe he'd start to like you again. It also wouldn't hurt to see Rex once more. You missed him.

Gregor glanced at you sideways, eyes soft at your crestfallen look. He knew how much the General and Marshal Commander cared for you, but he also hated how often they forgot that you were only 18. You were just a kid. They expected too much from you. He was the Clone Commando, not you. Very slowly, trying not to be detected, he scootched towards you, attempting to get close enough to whisper in your ear again without having to lean over. “First one to 500 clankers destroyed wins. Loser buys a round of Fried Endorian Tip-yip?” Your eyes dart to him, but he’s staring straight ahead, feigning interest in whatever Cody is arguing about for drop points. “Ye...yeah.” “Don’t let them be too hard on you Ad’ika. And don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re stronger than you know. And the next time those two make you frown like that, I’m going to call Boss and Sev. We’ll have a conversation with them.” “Thanks, Gregor.” “Of course Ad’ika. I’ll always be in your corner.”

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“Gregor! On me! We have to get back to the ships! Fall Back! Fall Back!” There were explosions all around you, bombs throwing dark sand and shrapnel everywhere, hitting your men. You could taste the burning powder from the shots mix with blood in your mouth and feel the electric ozone dancing on your skin. The dirt and sweat burned your eyes, but still you fought, swinging your saber around, trying to volley blaster bolt after blaster bolt away from your men. You had made the order to retreat towards the mountain range, but your men were still getting hit, still dying.You could hear the screams and cries, bodies littered across the ground, your heart hurting as you ran past them, unable to help.

"Mayday! Mayday! This is the Jedi Commander of the 212th, I need immediate evac! West side of the trenches! We're getting killed out here!!" You were screaming into your comm, trying to get some sort of support for your men, trying to get them out. Each breath burned your lungs, making you choke on your words. Gregor caught up and stood behind you, back to back, shooting at the droids who just kept coming.

You had never seen anything like it, so many spider droids, it was like staring out into the ocean, wave after wave of droids beating against the rocky grounds.Gregor looked over his shoulder at you with sad eyes and made his decision. He grabbed another Clone running by, by the pauldron, and shoved him towards you, “Chopper, get the Commander to the Evac ships! Go, that’s an order!”

"No!” you screamed, eyes wide and jaw slacked, “No, no, no no! No Gregor, I'm not leaving you!" You tried to argue, he was your best man, your best friend, you were not going to leave him there to die. “Please don’t do this! Please! You have to come with us! You have to come with me! Please, Gregor! Stay with me!”

There was another explosion close to you, causing you all to flinch as dirt was thrown over you. Gregor turned and pulled your forehead to his, pressing you against the plastoid of his bucket. The dirt on your face smeared down as you sobbed, tears falling from your eyes. You choked on your words, begging him to not leave you, begging him to keep going.

"It's okay, Ad'ika. It's okay. I'll always be with you."

He pulled away and pushed you towards Chopper, "Chopper, Go! Get her to safety! That's an order!"

Then he was gone. You watched helplessly, pulled away towards the retreat, screaming and fighting to be let go so you could go after him. But Gregor ran towards the droids, commando blaster in one hand, vibroblade in the other.

Something shifted, suddenly it was hot, too hot, it ripped the air from your lungs, burning your eyes and nose. You saw them, you saw your Master standing on that ridge, saber drawn crying out to Anakin. “It’s over Anakin! I have the high ground!!....You were the Chosen One!”

You gasped, shallow breaths unable to get air, trying to beg them to stop. You tried to scream, tried to yell out, but no sound came. Everything played out worse than you remembered, distorted in your fear. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” You had to get away, you turned to run, but that angry presence just kept following you. You ran as fast as you could, but it chased you at every corner. It was so malevolent, shrouded in darkness and hatred. “I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!” You couldn’t get away, it was too fast, too vile, it was going to catch you, it was going to catch you and kill you. Your big brother was going to kill you. You looked around you, trying to find a way out, but everywhere was inky blackness, closing in to suffocate you.You tripped on something as you ran and began to fall. You kept falling, plummeting downwards as the voice got louder and closer, screaming for your demise. You couldn’t escape, you couldn’t escape, you were going to die and you couldn’t escape.

"Nnno….nng...Gre….nnoo...need….need….evac….nnnggh….fall….fallback….may….day....Gre...gor…..nnno...Capta….captains...orders….nnnnggh...Ana….nnno….Chose….chosen one…." You were slowly tossing your head back and forth, eyes squeezed shut, hands fisted in the blanket on top of you.

Rex stirred awake, hearing you call out in your sleep. He sat up a bit, watching you fight the old phantoms that still haunted your dreams. His heart clenched. He didn't catch what you said at the end, but he remembered that battle, the horrors of Sarrish, and what they did to you. Cody had called him from the medbay, panicked and distraught, while you were floating in a bacta tank, having taken heavy shrapnel to your entire torso and both legs. He was beside himself in grief, terrified at the possibility that the last thing he ever got to say to you was in irritation at the debrief. That you'd die thinking he was disappointed in you, that he was angry with you. That you'd die not knowing how much he loved you and how sorry he was for how cruel he acted. That you'd die and Cody would be all alone, left to explain to Rex how it was all his fault and that his stupidity and cold attitude killed you.

They did almost lose you that day. You were almost gone when the evacuation team found you; a barely conscious Chopper cradling you in his arms, trying to shield the both of you from the bombs raining down. You lost all your men in that terrible campaign and were inconsolable for weeks when you finally woke up. That's when the nightmares started. At first, your Master would wake you, sensing your distress over your shared Force bond, but later Cody was always there, always waking you before Obi-Wan could get to you. When Obi-Wan noticed how much calmer you were when you saw Cody first, he would only check on you when the nightmares got to be too much to handle.

The last time you had this nightmare with Rex, Cody was also there to hold you and wake you up with gentle whispers. He couldn't remember the exact way Cody did it, but he was going to try at least.

"Jed'ika, shhh, it's alright. You're here, you're safe. Sarrish is over. You're safe now Mesh’la. I have you. I'm not letting you go. I'm never letting you go again. You're okay. I promise." Rex ran his fingers through your hair, gently pressed at the furrow of your brow, and slowly opened your clenched fists, trying to get you to relax.

"I have you, my sweet girl. I'm never going to let anything happen to you. Never again. It's okay. It's just a nightmare. It's okay.."

He was waiting for you to shoot awake, like you always did, fear etched on your features and eyes wild. But you didn't. Slowly your breathing calmed and your fists opened up, and you seemed to leave the dream, falling back into a peaceful slumber. Rex smiled at you and kissed your head, laying back down again.

You rolled over and curled up closer to him, just like you used to when in your private quarters. Tomorrow, when the sun was shining and your nightmares were just a figment of the past, he would ask you to accompany him to Seelos. As he cuddled closer and started to fall back asleep, he couldn’t help but smile about the surprise that awaited you there.

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Tag list: @get-wr3ckered @imarvelatthestars

#Rex x Reader #Cody x Reader #Rex x Reader x Cody #Rebels!Rex x Reader #Rebels #ExJedi!Reader #Clone Wars #Hondo x Reader Platonic #Hondo x Platonic!Reader #Polyamory #angst #so much angst #Anakin vs Obi Wan fight to the death #Sarrish battle

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