#that soft smile finally realising that Olli does see him and want him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xmyshya · 3 years

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Shoved it: chapter V - Pop Shuvit

summary: You don’t like skaters. They’re unruly, misbehaved and rude. But this one encounter just might change your view. genre: fluff warnings: tooth-rotting fluff (seriously, make a dentist appointment), slow burn, mutual pining betas: @vanille–kiss you have no idea how much I love you and how grateful I am for everything that you do for me a/n: Written for ANILYSIUM (former HQHQ) Server Collab with the prompt “Meet Ugly”. Check the event’s masterlist here! This is the last part - honestly it makes me kind of sad... Thank you so much for reading <3 series navi: masterlist | previous wc: 1.7k

“Do you trust me?”

You don’t know what to answer because yes, you do, but is it alright to admit it? You nod anyway and grab his hand, and Suna pulls you up to stand on a skateboard. In theory he keeps it steady with one foot on it, you still have your doubts though. Oh well, word has been said.

“Stand still. And relax.”

Easy to say when he proceeds to stand on the board too, and he’s so close, and he has an arm around your waist, and he looks so good in his ripped jeans and checkered flannel, and he smells so nice, and you can feel his warmth on your back…

“Ready?”

You shake your head but he only chuckles; his body shifts and yours follows due to the grip he has on your waist, and the board rolls slowly. It feels weird, a little bit scary, so you clutch his forearm, making him hold you tighter in response. He’s silent until your muscles relax a little against him.

“I’m gonna speed up a little.”

This time you’re not affected as much. You suppose it must be difficult to maneuver like this, when Suna has to take additional weight and cubature of a passenger into account. But he’s not complaining, and neither are you.

“Let’s try a bit of turning.”

“Okay.”

Somehow it’s not so scary anymore, it’s getting exciting. Every twist and turn of his body pulls you too, every tilt creates a wobbly curved shift. It’s so fun.

Hearing you giggle makes his cheeks flush. Rin tries to convince himself it’s because his passion is liked by one more person, but the truth is… he loves the sound. Just like he loves the scent of your hair, and the warmth of you being so close as he guides you. He loves it so much, too much, that he feels like needs a break.

***

“Okay, your turn.” Nice diversion, Rintarou. “To move forward, you need to push with the backfoot, you brake by placing your backfoot on the ground, and turn by shifting weight from your toes to your heels.”

“Could you uhm… hold my hand?”

The diversion went to hell. He reaches his hand out anyway, his heart doing somersaults when you place yours on top. You look so cute with this wide grin, shiny eyes and a tiny blush. Even more so when you’re focused and determined, like it’s the only thing that matters in the world.

Right now, Rin doesn’t even mind running for you if it means not letting go of your hand, if it means seeing your face light up like this. His chest swells up with pride, it’s his hobby that brings you joy, it’s him who teaches you, and you’re riding visibly smoother and more confidently with every try.

“Suna?”

“Yeah?”

“When could we have lesson two?”

Oh god. He fell in love. Hard.

Back at home you can’t stop staring at your palm; the ghost of his touch still burns and tickles your skin. It’s incomprehensible why you did that, why you asked him to hold your hand. All you know is that you want to feel it again.

And maybe even more than that. You miss being close to him, the arm secured around your middle, the breath fanning your ear, his warmth, his scent, his voice… him. You miss him so much, despite seeing each other merely 2 hours ago.

Oh god. You fell in love. Hard.

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

“Okay, ladies and gents, today ‘m gonna teach y’all to ollie!”

Atsumu, ever the showman, exclaims with hands on his hips even though it’s only you. You can't help but snort as Osamu facepalms, and Suna only raises a brow. This will be exhilarating.

“So first, ya gotta pop yer board like this, and then slide yer foot up, and then push it forward. Remember - pop and drag. And repeat.”

“On it, sensei!”

The blond is very pleased with your nickname - his grin is wider than ever, and eyes glint with more mischievousness than usual. He’s doing this exercise with you, to both keep you company and to display how it should be done.

“Don’t stroke his ego like that, or he’ll be even more insufferable.”

Osamu huffs, making his twin gasp in offence and roll away. Now you’re here alone with two spectators, great. What makes this situation even worse is their silence, which makes you spiral into thoughts. Are they not saying anything because you’re doing well? Or because it’s so bad? How long are you supposed to keep doing this?

“Now try doin’ it in one swift motion.” The silver haired boy speaks, his twin nowhere to be seen. “A think ya’ve done this enough.”

First few attempts make you lose your balance a little, with no time to stabilise yourself in the middle. But it gets easier with time, each sequence smoother than the last one, until both boys hum in appreciation.

“Oi, oi, oi, what are ya doin’ with ma student?!”

Atsumu is suddenly back, and he’s not pleased with someone taking over his role. His brother is quick to talk back.

“Then maybe ya should take care of her, ya scrub!”

“Well, well, ya seem to be doin’ well!” The blond decides to ignore the response. “Now try to jump.”

“What?”

“Jump, ya know… like this.”

You’re still standing there dumbfounded, not really understanding how this is supposed to work. Osamu tries to weigh in, but Suna stops him and says to just wait and watch. It’s horrible, it’s not working, you can’t even lift off the ground, not to mention land back on the board.

“How can ya not… It’s the simplest thing! Look, like… like this.”

Blond Miya gets irritated, the other two boys nearly fall from the bench from laughter. Osamu finally decides to save the day.

“Move, ya idiot.” He shoves his brother to the side. “Listen, when yer standing like this, ya jump and pop the board while in the air. Yer other foot slides up to level it, and then ya land.”

Oh, this makes so much more sense. You succeed on the second try, making Atsumu groan and others cry from laughing too hard.

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

Rin is right next to you, in a secluded part of the park. The two of you are the only people around, which is both weird, because it’s such a warm day, and desirable, because at least you don’t bother anyone. And no one bothers you.

“Let’s start with the shove, yeah?” You nod. “First place your feet like this, stick your toes out a bit more, good. Now, you push the backfoot straight back, your frontfoot barely lifts off the board - that’s the key. Then the board makes an 180, and you land.”

He watches you try and fail, but it’s not like you make some serious mistakes, you just need to figure things out - how much force to use, how high to jump. So he starts mindlessly shoving his board around, staying close in case you need him.

Honestly he’s impressed with how quickly you’re able to learn, your eagerness and determination being a balm to his heart. He just wants to hug you, hold you close with his eyes shut, and breathe. Nothing more, just breathe.

In the meantime you managed to work out the part he had shown you - maybe it’s not perfect yet, but enough to step up your game. He tells you to do the same, but moving, a small but significant upgrade.

Suna has been watching you closely for a long while now, your skin burning wherever his eyes lingered. The alley you’ve been occupying is hidden in shade, but it does little to soothe the fire. You need a break, even if it’s for just 5 minutes.

Water bottle buried in the ground (not entirely, obviously) is pleasantly cool when you dig it out. You wish you could submerge yourself in it, maybe this would help. Thin streams of the liquid flow down your scorching skin, a contrast of feelings gives you goosebumps. Okay, you cheer yourself mentally, time to continue.

And you do, for the first hour landing on the ground instead of the board, having it upside down (how? It’s a mystery), or rotating it in weird angles. Rintarou is patient, observes your every move and offers suggestions that do help. Three hours later your efforts are deemed worthy of the next level.

“So now you have to combine that pop from the ollie with the shove, and you got it!”

“Easy to say…”

Rin laughs and goes to lie down on a grass, placing his backpack under his head, so he can still see you. You start moving, and call it instinct, call it intuition, one can even call it clairvoyance, but he already knows you’re going to fail.

He sees it all in slow motion, how you come close to where he is, how you flick your ankle and the board spins, but the angle is wrong, the pace of the rotation is wrong, everything seems wrong.

The least he can do is to minimise the harm; you’re right in front of him when you land awkwardly and tumble forward, right into his stretched arms. The impact makes him fall on his back with you on top, his arms secured around you.

“Oh god, Suna, I’m so sorry, I-”

You’re blushing like a tomato, your eyes widen in terror but you’re so damn adorable that his heart clenches painfully. He smiles as he brushes some loose strands off the way.

“You should watch where you’re going, could have hurt someone.”

It’s now or never.

His lips are so soft, you think before you even register why you can feel that. But when you realise… the time comes to a halt. The whole world ceases to exist, it’s just you and him, his arms embracing your figure, and his lips on yours. It only lasts for a few seconds before he pulls away and whispers

“...you punk.”

Taglist: @kageyamas-love @mikasbloodbag @underratedmage

#haikyuu x reader #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna fluff #suna rintarou fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x y/n #suna x y/n #suna rintarou x y/n #hq x reader #hq x y/n #hq fluff #anilysium server collab #shoved;it #mysh.whitedwarf.[hq]

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zimms · 3 years

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an olliewicks flower shop au to soothe the soul! this is somewhat based on mine and @tingo-tango’s tags on this post.

fields of flowers, soft beneath my heels

Ollie’s wrist-deep in a pot of soil, sweat rolling down his cheeks and sunlight streaming through the windows of Faber’s Flowers, when the shop’s bell rings and a new customer stumbles through the door. Ollie frowns slightly and hastily wipes the beads of sweat off his chin with the corner of his shirt, before plastering on his best customer service smile to greet whoever needs flowers at 7:30 am on a Tuesday morning. He mentally catalogues the possibilities; maybe they’ve forgotten their spouse’s birthday? Or maybe it’s a gift for someone at work? Maybe it’s an apology present because they accidentally cycled into a fruit stall and ruined a fresh batch of melons?

(Okay, maybe not, but it would be a refreshing change in the cycle of constant businessmen grovelling for their partner’s forgiveness)

Ollie shakes himself from his thoughts and grins across the counter at the customer, who’s sporting a baseball cap and a t-shirt that sits just right across his broad shoulders. Ollie’s eyes track down the guy’s biceps which are a tad too big for the sleeves. Ollie consciously shut his mouth to stop himself from gaping; this guy was hot. As Ollie’s gaze roams across the customer’s face to meet his eyes, he realises three things. Number one is that he definitely shouldn’t be ogling a customer like he’s a piece of meat. Number two is that he hasn’t said anything to this guy yet. Number three is that at least a minute of awkward silence and staring has passed since the customer entered the shop.

Ollie rips his eyes away from the customer’s face to stare at a spot slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hi! What can I help you with today?”

The guy shifts on the balls of his feet, scanning the shelves of bouquets and individual flowers. “Erm, I’m looking for a bouquet of flowers for my mom?” His voice raises at the end of his sentence, which is kind of cute, if Ollie does say so. He rubs the back of his neck and his checks flush pink. “I kinda need to apologise to her.”

Ah, a classic apology scenario. Got it.

“What’s the apology for?” Ollie asks as he turns to the sink behind the counter to wash his hands. “Not that you have to tell me that is; it just might help as we make the bouquet.” He unravels the roll of tissue paper and cuts off a square to package the flowers in.

Hot Guy winces. “Ah,” he says, “I kinda got into a fight in front of her the other night. She was not happy to say the least, so I figured I might as well get her some flowers to apologise for it.”

“Cool, cool.” Ollie grins at him. “What kinda flowers do you want for her?” He gestured to the whole shop, where various buckets of flowers lined the walls, each displaying a different species. “We can get her just a plain old bunch that’s all just the same type of flower, or we could mix and match, create a nice piece of artwork that she’ll admire rather than a bunch that’s boring and all the same.”

Hot Guy’s eyes flick up from the counter and meet Ollie’s own, moving slowly up his body. If Ollie was feeling particularly optimistic, he’d say the guy was checking him out, but he pushes that thought to the corner of his mind because he’s made way too many faux-pas in the past by asking out guys that have come into the shop just for all of them to be straight. Hot Guy clears his throat. “Yeah, a mixture sounds good. I know her favourite flowers are hyacinths if that helps?”

“That’s perfect.” Ollie shoots him the most reassuring smile he can think of, eyes softening. He grabs the bucket of blue hyacinths that sit behind him. “These alright?”

“Yeah, those are great,” Hot Guy says a little hoarsely, squinting at Ollie’s name tag, “Ollie.” Something settles in Hot Guy’s voice and he seems a bit more comfortable.

“So, why'd you get into a fight in front of your mom?” Ollie reaches for the bucket of Narcissus behind him and waves a bunch at Hot Guy for affirmation. He nods in return. “Doesn’t seem like the best idea to me-” Ollie trails off, hoping that Hot Guy might get the hint and finally introduce himself.

“Oh, uh, Pacer.” He coughs and the remaining tension leaks out of his posture. “Nah, a guy said something about Ma, and you know, I had to rush to defend her like the rash idiot I am.”

Ollie laughs. “At least, it’s one of the more noble reasons to get into a fight. There’s a bit more chance of forgiveness, then.”

Pacer nods and his gaze wanders away from where Ollie is deftly making the bouquet to settle on the purple Clematis.

“You like them?” Ollie makes a ‘gimme’ motion with his hands and Pacer passes the bucket over to him. Their hands briefly brush each other during the exchange and Ollie does everything in his power to ignore the jolt that goes through him at that brief skin to skin contact. “You’ve got a good eye; I was just about to grab them myself.”

“Yeah, my mom loves blue and yello-” Pacer cuts himself off with a sneeze. “Also, aren’t they the colours of the local hockey team around here? The Falcons?” Although he has a completely clueless tone to his voice, Pacer is studying Ollie’s reaction as if it might reveal the secrets of the universe.

“Yeah, the Falcs! I only get to see them every so often, but they’re great,” Ollie says, doing his level best to ignore Pacer’s sudden intensity. “I was actually on the same team as Jack Zimmermann in college, which was pretty cool.”

“Really?” Pacer’s enigmatic expression becomes even more indecipherable. “That is pretty cool.” He looks slightly over his shoulder towards the street before meeting Ollie’s eyes and flashing a genuine smile at him. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself, you know.”

Ollie tries to convince himself that the bubble of excitement that rushes through him is because Pacer is such a good conversationalist and not for any other reason, like the fact that they have a couple of things in common, or that Pacer is one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen.

(He fails.)

_X_

Pacer leaves about forty minutes later, with a bouquet and handwritten note in hand and a smile fixed firmly on his face. When Ollie goes to scrub down the counter and start repotting the plant he’d abandoned when Pacer had arrived, he spots a scrap of paper that definitely hadn’t been there before. The note is pretty cute; it’s a string of numbers and a smiley face, accompanied by a couple of lines from Pacer.

Would you like to go I would have asked you out earlier, but my tea friend always says it’s bad form to hit on workers whilst they’re on shift. Anyway, here’s my number if you want to go out some time? Call m Don’t worry if you don’t though!

- Pacer

Ollie grins as he opens up his phone to add the number to his contacts, but pauses as he sees a Google Alert come through that he’s set up for the Falcs. The text reads, Providence Falconers acquire forward Pacer Wicks from Colorado Avalanche in exchange for a second round pick in the 2022 NHL Draft, and immediately underneath the caption, Pacer’s smiling face stares out at him.

Pacer’s voice echoes in his mind. “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.”

Played a bit of hockey himself? Ollie cannot believe this guy. He plays in the fucking NHL and all he says is “I actually played a bit of hockey myself.”

However, Ollie thinks as he opens up the article to see a picture of a bruised Pacer from his last game with the Avs, it would explain why he needed to apologise for fighting in front of his mom.

_X_

Now that Ollie is aware of Pacer Wicks’ existence, he seems to follow him everywhere. Well, not Pacer exactly, but his name.

It begins, like many things, at the grocery store.

“Excuse me?” the cashier asks, as she’s scanning his groceries two days after Pacer first came into the florist’s. “Are you that hockey player? Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie furrows his eyebrows. He doesn’t think that him and Pacer look that similar, but then again, Pacer’s only been in Providence a couple of days, so people don’t exactly know what he looks like yet. “No, sorry.”

The cashier purses her lips, taking a moment to study him again before ringing him up. “Huh, sorry! You guys just look really alike is all.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” Ollie gathers up his groceries. “These things happen sometimes.”

(He almost texts Pacer to tell him about it, but, as Ollie looks at the clock on his phone, he realises that Pacer probably isn’t going to want to receive a message about how someone thought they looked similar mid-way through his game against the Pens.

Also, he’d have to wish him luck and honestly, as much as Ollie loves the Falcs, he wouldn’t wish them too much luck against his hometown team.)

_X_

ollie

hey! i’ve finished off that other apology bouquet for your ma!

let me know when you want to swing by and pick it up!

also i was watching the game tonight; do you need me to make up another identical one for your ma, or do you wanna come into the shop to choose this one?

pacer

thanks ol! i’ll probably swing by to pick it up tomorrow and then help make the next one at the same time?

ollie

sounds like a plan!!

_X_

When he said these things happen sometimes to that cashier in the grocery store, he didn’t expect them to happen all the goddamn time. Be it at his favourite café, on the street, or on the commuter rail, someone always, always, asks if he’s Pacer Wicks.

_X_

ollie

oof that hit from eriksen looks like it’s gonna leave a mark

pacer

yeah, half my face is swollen

ollie

yikes

pacer

i assume we’re still on for dinner in a couple of days right?

even if my stunning visage has been marred by the fists of a schooner

ollie

that was a very weird way of putting it

but yeah, i still wanna go out with you even if your face looks like a dodgeball

_X_

A girl taps him on the shoulder at Bitty’s Bites downtown. “Excuse me, are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie smiles sheepishly at her, brandishing his coffee cup with a scrawled Oily on it as if it might keep the Pacer Wicks fans away. “Sorry, you’ve got the wrong dude.”

He hurries out of there as quickly as his legs can take him after that, hands fumbling for his phone so that he can text Pacer about it.

ollie

jdshjkdsjh a girl just asked if i was you

pacer

oh?

ollie

yeah, i don’t really know why so many people ask if i’m you

especially as they usually ask when you’re on a roadie??

so i don’t get why they know who you are without knowing the falcs’ schedules

pacer

maybe they’re a fan of my dashing good looks rather than my hockey?

isn’t that why you agreed to go out with me after all?

Ollie grins to himself before sending back three words.

don’t push it

_X_

He’s less generous to the guy on the commuter rail, but in fairness that’s mainly because he stole the last seat just before Ollie could get there and it’s 6:30 in the morning.

“Hey, aren’t you that hockey pl-?”

Ollie barely looks up from his phone before cutting him off with a sharp “No.”

_X_

Today, someone even asks him at the flower shop.

“No,” he says, heaving the deepest sigh he can whilst still remaining in customer service mode, “I think Pacer Wicks might have other things to do on a Saturday afternoon than work the till at a flower shop.” He shuts the cash drawer on the register with a bang and hands the customer their change and bouquet as quickly as he can. “Thank you for shopping with us! Enjoy your day!”

He collapses back onto the wooden stool that he keeps behind the counter, taking a breather for approximately five seconds before a laugh echoes through the shop. Ollie jumps half a foot in the air before locating Pacer, who’s stood in the corner of the shop inspecting a piece of sea holly.

He’s dressed up pretty nicely considering hockey players’ notoriously bad fashion sense, wearing a button-up, a nice pair of jeans that do all the right things for his hockey butt, and his ever-present baseball cap, but this time, unlike his first visit to the shop, it’s sat backwards on his head. He spins around to face the back of the shop, grinning his face off. “I’m impressed by the fact that she asked you that whilst I was standing in the shop and she still didn’t notice me.” He laughs, smirking across at Ollie. “Does that happen often?”

“Yeah, some people are surprisingly oblivious sometimes,” he says, “but also, I don’t look that much like you?” He pauses, trying to work out what Pacer’s face means. He places his hands on his hips and jokingly rounds on Pacer. “Do I?”

Pacer chuckles, taking a few steps closer so that he’s leaning against the counter. “Not that much, but would it be so bad if you looked like me?” A mock-wounded expression plays across his features as he presses his hand to his chest.

Ollie takes off his apron and hangs it up behind the counter. “Nope, because you are extremely hot.” He threads his fingers through the hockey player’s belt loops to pull him closer, feeling emboldened by Pacer’s flirting. “And if that means that people are inadvertently calling me hot whilst asking if I’m you?” He shrugs. “I can live with it.”

Pacer has to lower his gaze to meet Ollie’s eyes, the two inch height difference between them clearly obvious, even if Ollie is six foot, thank you very much. “You were right about something though,” Pacer murmurs, “I do have better things to do than stand in a flower shop on a Saturday afternoon.”

“Like what?” Ollie raises an eyebrow.

Pacer smiles softly down at him, taking his hand and interlacing his fingers with Ollie’s. “Like taking the cute florist that works there on a date for starters.” Pacer starts to move them towards the shop’s entrance. “There’s this lit-” He sneezes abruptly.

Ollie tilts Pacer’s head downwards. “That’s like the fourth time you’ve sneezed in the shop.” He rubs his thumb over his cheek, frowning when he sees that Pacer’s eyes are slightly red. “Are you okay?”

Pacer waves him off. “Yeah, it’s fine; my antihistamines just wore off.”

His-? Ollie furrows his eyebrows before leading his date out of the shop. “Pacer, are you allergic to flowers?”

“No?” Pacer’s sheepish and slightly bunged up reply says everything that Ollie needs to know.

“Fuck, Pace, why have you been coming to the shop so much if you’re allergic? Surely you don’t like the aesthetics of flowers that much that you need to torture your sinuses every spare minute of the day.” Ollie pinches the bridge of his nose, voice full of exasperation.

Pacer holds his hands up in surrender. “In my defence, the first few times were because I did need to buy Ma flowers, but I didn’t keep coming back because the flowers were pretty.” He pulls Ollie close and frames his face with his hands. “I came back because the florist was.”

_X_

The final time Ollie is mistaken for Pacer is five years later as he’s heading towards the arena for Pacer’s final game of the season. In fairness, dressed in a Wicks jersey and a Falcs snapback, he probably looks more like Pacer now than he has at any time since he first got mistaken for him in the grocery store.

“Excuse me?” A teenager taps him on the shoulder, their arm slung around a friend. “Are you Pacer Wicks?”

Ollie grins at the kid. “Nope,” he says, trying not to take too much joy in the hope fading from the fan’s eyes before he drops the bombshell, “I am his husband though.”

“Really?” The teenager’s eyes light up. “You’re not kidding, right?”

“Nope.” Ollie holds up his phone screen to show the kid a photo of Pacer kissing his cheek, just so that they know he’s not lying. “D’you wanna meet him after the game?” He smirks at them. “After all, I do know a guy.”

#the formatting's kinda whack #but it's late #so i'll format it properly when i post it on ao3 tomorrow #ollie and wicks #my writing #omgcp #it's like 3k i'm so sorry

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random-fandom1 · 3 years

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Lights were blaring, music blasting, sweaty bodies grinding against eachother. A hand touches Peter waist, lips attach themselves to his neck. A man, his name is James? What a strange name. A hot name. A perfect name for such a hot man. Moans escape him. Lips continue to assault his neck, a hand pulls him towards the exit

"Is this okay?"

That voice. If you could fall in love with voices, Peter would be walking down the aisle.

"yes"

8 years later

“Olly James Parker! Hurry up, you don't want to be late for your aunts! You know what MJ did last time.” Peter shudders remembering about how MJ purposely put sand in his salad the last time they were late. The quick patter of soft feet can be heard from the landing upstairs and suddenly a small boy dressed in overalls appears at the top of the stairs, a mop of brown curls covering his left eye.

"Where are we going daddy? Are we going to that fancy place Auntie Shuri took us last week? I didn't like that place, the big red things had strange eyes and the plates. They were, they were too big," The boy made huge over the top circles with his arms. Peter had to agree though, the plates were bloody huge, "I like the cafe Auntie MJ takes us too. I like Kath. She's nice. The pink doughnuts are my favourite" Peter listened to his son rant on about how pink doughnuts are his favourite from Cafe Asgard for about 5 minutes before speaking up.

"There's no need to worry babe, Auntie MJ is picking the place I think. Shuri and MJ had bet on who stole more of the others clothes, turns out it was Shuri and then Shuri, being the competitive bitch she is decided to try and seduce -" Realising he was wandering off appropriate topics for a 7 year old, and that he'd slipped up twice in that story. He looks down to realise he's probably safe as the boy is still going on about how the sprinkles are the right amount of hard. "Go get your shoes on bud"

"Ok" and with that Olly ran down the hall, curls bouncing with every step.

Peter couldn't help but admire his son. About how he was an exact copy of him, from the hair to the freckles scattered across his body. Olly carried his and his dad's intelligence and needed to figure out how stuff works. He was a total clone. Well, almost. He had his eyes. Those beautiful steel blue eyes, the ones that looked at him with so much passion that night. Peter cried when Olly opened his eyes for the first time, realising that he's going to have to be reminded of the man he fell in love with, the man who left him alone and pregnant in his bed, everyday for the rest of his life. He's going to be reminded of James.

Peter is pulled out of his thoughts by a small hand tugging his jacket.

"Come on daddy, I hear a horn honking outside. I don't want Aunties MJ & Shuri to be mad at me" Olly says, looking at his father with huge eyes, genuinely scared of angering his impatient aunts. Resisting the urge to coo, He crouches down in front of his son and wraps him in a hug.

"Oh buddy, they'd never be mad at you...me though, that's a different story. So on that note, chop chop, I'm quite fond of my head" Peter stands up from his crouched position, takes Olly's hand and walks out the front door

"-and the dinosaur was big and green with spik-"

"Ok Olls, I think that's enough of that story. Why don't we head inside" Peter said, holding a tight smile on his face. He unbuckled Olly and headed inside, followed closely by MJ and Shuri. MJ instantly headed towards their usual table beside the window while Shuri made her way into the queue where she instantly started talking to a brown haired man. 'Must be a friend from work' Peter thought. He crouched down to Olly’s level, "Why don't you go get a table with Auntie MJ and Auntie Shuri and I will order the food? You want a pink doughnut and a strawberry and banana milkshake, right?" Olly nodded and ran off towards MJ.

Peter took a moment to think about how he got to this very moment, about how he ended up having Olly. He thought back to the morning after. He woke up alone. James just slept with him, got up early in the morning and left without a word. Peter had to show himself out of his house. There was no note, no contact number, no nothing. All there was was a growing fetus and Peter who couldn't get the man with steel blue eyes and godlike voice out of his head. It was clear that he wanted nothing to do with Peter so in return, Peter decided that he didn't need him. That he can raise Olly by himself without another person. It helped that he had a big family and money was never an issue, seeing as his dad owns the biggest tech company in the world and his pops is a captain in the army. Sure he thought about going back to the flat, seeing if James felt the same way about him as he did. He wondered if Bucky would raise Olly with him, if they could be a family. He's shaken from his thoughts by his phone binging in his pocket.

Pulling it out of his pocket, he sees a message from his pops.

‘hey pete, do you know how to activate that protocol you used to wake us up with? Monster ear or something? dads fell asleep in his locked lab again. thanks, have a good day petey. love you x’

Peter lets out a chuckle when he reads the message. Trust his dad to forget to unlock the lab door. He starts to make his way over to where Shuri is holding their place in the line, typing back a reply to his pops.

“-and then glenn tried to make me take out her copies, like who does she think i am - oh, Pete there you are. I thought you got lost on your way over. Here meet my boss, Bucky, he knows all about yo - get off your phone it's rude” Shuri says, getting annoyed by his ignorance.

“Yeah, yeah. My pops is asking about commands again. I swear he never stops” he says, putting his phone into his back pocket and looking at Shuri. Peter was yet to look at the man in front of him, too busy giving Shuri a death glare.

“It's a pleasure to meet you Peter, Shuris told me a lot about you. She tells me almost daily about your latest mix up, I must say you have a lot.”

Peter freezes

Time stops

It's that voice, the voice he fell in love with. That deep and gruff voice with the right amount of softness on the edges. It's like music, the voice of angels.

He slowly turns his head to look at the man in front of him, watches as his eyes widen upon getting a full view of his face, realising washing over him.

Everything around them become background noise

The only people left in the cosy cafe are them, scrap that actually, the only people in the whole world are them.

They must be zoned out for a while because suddenly Shuris snapping her fingers in between them. Peter's cheeks flush a dark scarlet and he closes his mouth which must have fallen open.

“Peter, you have no idea how much I - fuck, Ive thought about this moment for so long, and I - god, I dont know what to say” Peters eyes snap back up to meet those eyes, those pools of steel blue. They haven't left his mind for years, haunted him around any corner he tried to turn.

Thats when he realised, he was in love with him. He loved James, he hasn't seen him for years, met him once before that, but fuck, he loved him.

“I-uh - I…”

“Daddy, whos this? His eyes look like mine. Isn’t that funny?” Olly comes over and stands next to his father, looking up at, well, his other father. Bucky looks down at Olly, then back up to Peter, then back down to Olly. You can practically see the gears turning in his head, probably trying to figure out who this is, probably piecing it together slowly. Peter gulps and then looks down at Olly.

“Olly, I told you to stay with Auntie MJ. You know what happened last ti -” Peters cut off for what feels like the 50th time today.

“How old are you kid?” His voice is shaking

“Don’t answer that”

“Whos your other daddy?”

“Don't answer that either, go back to Aun-”

“Answer me, how old are you kid?”

Olly is slightly hiding behind Shuris leg, not quite sure what to do.

“You can’t just go around asking people you've slept with and then left alone to clean up the pieces with not even a contact number or note or anything’s kids how old they are, what is wrong with you?!”

Something flashes across Buckys face, regret and hurt, but they quickly go back to rage. Steel blue eyes turning into a stormy grey, like a storm at sea.

“I can if they may be my child!”

“That doesn't make it right!”

“For god's sake, stop being so difficult-”

“I’m being difficult? Do you hear yours-”

“I do funnily enough -”

They’re interrupted by a small voice

“Im almost eight…”

Both they’re heads snap round, looking at the source of the voice. There they see Olly holding up 8 fingers. Tears well up in James’ eyes, the final piece clicking into the jigsaw

“Hes my son..” Its barely above a whisper. Peter lets out a defeated sigh

“Yeah, he's your son”

Slowly James crouches down to Olly's level. Olly looks him over, analyses him as if he's trying to figure out what's inside this man. It's scary that Bucky has the exact same look on his face. Eyebrows furrowed, steel eyes cloudy. It makes Peter's heart let out small flutters.

“Hey there kiddo, Im, well im your papa.” Olly takes a second to process what's just been said before running into his papas arms. Tears are streaming down his face. Both their faces. Scrap that, tears are running down most of the people in the cafe’s faces.

“I've always wanted a papa, daddy always used to say that you went on a mission to space and that its taking a while. But he always said you’ll be back.”

“Did he now?” Bucky looks into his eyes and all is said in that look.

He was going to do whatever it takes to be a part of this family, to be with the man he loves and their son.

And Peter wouldn't have it any other way.

“Whats a bitch papa?”

Shuri cackles, an old lady gasps and Bucky's eyes widen comically

fuck.

#peter parker #winterspider #bucky barnes #tony stark #avengers #superfamily #steve rogers #marvel #stony #cute #shuri #papa #sad #sadbeautifultragic

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sinfulshelbys · 4 years

Text

Predicament [two]

Alfie Solomons x Shelby! sister reader

Warnings: talks of war, violence, shitty ending but what else do you expect from me, eh?

FIND PART ONE HERE

word count: 3.7k

𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟏

Your brother was an ambitious man – albeit that he was a self-righteous and stubborn asshole.

He was in no good shape to have dismissed himself from the hospital, with bloodshot eyes, bruised limbs and broken ribs– you were scared that he was going to topple over as you walked down the streets of Camden Town.

“Tom,” you whispered, tossing your cigarette to the ground – watching the embers float in the air for a second before disappearing as you snubbed the stick out with the heel of your kitty heels. “Maybe we should get back home first.”

Tommy was quick to cut off your suggestion, his voice blunt but stern. “We’re already fucking here – keep walking.”

Sighing, you rolled your eyes at your brothers headstrong personality. The way he was stumbling over his own feet, ignoring the blood that was coating his face – his appearance reminded you of the day you stepped off the train after returning from the war, Tommy barely able to keep himself standing long enough to pull you into a hug.

You could remember that day like it was yesterday, the feeling of finally being in your brothers arms after years.

Your shaky feet hit the cobblestone ground of Birmingham’s train station, rain lightly dribbling from the dark clouds as you took in the multiple people crowding the platform.

Clenching your small satchel closer to your chest, you raised onto your tip-toes, trying to catch sight of a familiar face, but before you could spot anyone – a loud yell of your name caused your head to snap to the right; just in time to catch a small body.

“Y/N! You’re back!” A small giggle escaped your lips as you fell to your knees, tugging your youngest brother impossibly closer.

“I’m back, Finn,” you smiled, pulling away to cup your brothers face in your hands. “My God! Look how much you’ve grown – you’re so handsome!”

Before Finn could reply, two more sets of arms wrapped around you from both sides – the sounds of cries from both your aunt and sister filling your ears.

“You are never allowed to do that again!” Ada sobbed, as you pressed a kiss to her forehead as you stood – her arms wrapping tightly around your middle as Polly took in your appearance.

You knew that you didn’t look like the innocent girl that had left that fateful day at the same station. You were maturer – didn’t look at the world with the same wonder and excitement that you did once before. She could see the horrors behind your eyes, the disaster that tormented you and would follow you around for the rest of your life.

Because those who returned from the war weren’t the lucky ones – for they would forever have to live in a constant state of trepidation.

“Come, the boys are waiting to see you,” Polly spoke after a beat of silence – her hands moving from your cheeks to grab your own palms; pulling you with her.

You couldn’t stop the tears that feel down you cheeks in harsh waves – a sharp sob leaving your throat as you practically ran towards John who held his arms wide open for you. It wasn’t long before Arthur tugged you away with a low ‘I fucking missed her too, give me a hug.’

After being in your eldest brothers embrace for long enough, you pulled away – pressing a kiss to his cheek before turning to your twin. You could see how much the war had aged him; you supposed that you probably looked the same.

“Tom,” you spoke, voice barely above a whisper. You heard him wince in pain as you pulled him into a hug, but nonetheless he held you as close as possible.

Neither of you said anything as you just stood in the others hold – letting your family crowd around you in a group hug; nobody wanting to let go. That point was proven as you all walked back to the flat on Watery Lane, your arm wrapped around Tommy’s waist, his across your shoulders.

One hand protectively around your brother, the other over the satchel that held the letters that were most sacred to you.

Your body language mimicked that of the day of your return – your arm tightly around your brothers waist so he wouldn’t fall to the ground in a heap.

The people of Camden Town turned to look at the pair of you in confusion, spotting a woman barely being able to support an injured man that was twice her size as he clung to her.

“Is this the place?” You muttered to your Tommy, approaching what looked to be the distillery he described to you – you only got a hum in response.

Approaching a young man waiting at the front doors, you gave him a nod in greeting before he pushed off the wall and strolled towards you.

“You Mr Shelby?” He questioned Tommy who stood up taller – you tried to ignore the sharp intake of breath he let out at the movement.

“That I am,” Tommy confirmed, his voice emotionless. “I supposed you’re Ollie. Your boss informed me of you.”

“You were told to come alone.”

Rolling your eyes at the way the man gave you a disapproving once over, you gritted your teeth.

“Does my brother look like he’s able to be in any situation alone, right now?” You hissed, causing the man to widen his eyes in shock – obviously not realising you were siblings.

Ollie was quick to want to pat you both down, much to your disgruntlement – although he was almost hesitant to lay his hands on you. So with a huff, you pulled your gun from the waistband of your skirt and the knife from the holster on your thigh, handing them to him in a sign of good faith before he moved onto your brother.

Before either of you could walk in, the sound of a booming voice echoed around you – you recognised the tone, but couldn’t place where from.

“Put ‘im down, Ollie,” your eyes darted to the brooding figure walking towards you, not being able to make out his face in the dull lighting. “Put ‘im down mate, he’s only little.”

The man strolled over to your brother who was a few steps in front of you – an air of familiarity lingering around him as you frowned; trying to figure out how you knew him.

“You on your own?” The mysterious man questioned Tommy, causing your brother to shake his head.

“Brought me sister.”

“Well, you’re both brave, ain’t you?” He chuckled, turning on his feet without even taking a look back at you. “You want to take a look at my bakery? We bake all sorts here, mate, yeah.”

Tommy gestured for you to follow, as he began to trail behind the man who went off on a tangent about the bread he baked – your eyes taking in the workers who seemed to stare at you a little too long for your liking. The heat the surrounded you was almost suffocating as you walked behind the two men – reaching a better lit area and a table of alcohol.

“We bake the white bread, we back the brown bread. We bake all sorts,” the man continued to ramble, turning around to look at your brother. “Would you like to try some?”

You tuned out the rest of the conversation between him and Tommy, your bottom lip being pulled between your teeth as you furrowed your brows – intently staring at the man. Taking a shaky breath, you finally recognised him.

Captain Solomons. From the war.

Your lost love.

He was rougher around the edges now, no longer covered in a thick layer of mud and grime. Instead, he had grown out a beard and his hair was slightly longer than the short style he had all those years ago.

Tears began clouding your eyes as you wiped your sweaty palms on your skirt. He was supposed to be dead – killed in action alongside the rest of his troops.

So how the hell was he standing in front of you?

“And you?” He turned to you with a raised brow before his confident expression faltered.

Time seemed to freeze around the both of you – your throat becoming dry as your mouth opened and closed, not quite sure what words to form. Tommy frowned as he watched the interaction, not quite certain what was happening – especially since the man that hadn’t stopped talking since they met, instantly shut up once he saw you.

“I-they-you,” you stuttered over your words, watching as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck.

He was still as handsome as the day he left you, that much you didn’t have to question. But you could see that he wasn’t the sweet man who offered to write to you every day until you saw each other again.

“The shell,” his tone seemed to have lowered. “They told me it hit yer’ tent, yeah? They said that nobody, right, nobody was left.”

Soft tears fell from your eyes, your lip trembling as you gestured towards him with a shaky hand.

“You’re supposed to be dead too. Killed in action, that’s what they said.”

Neither of you were quite certain what to do – you wanted to pull him into your arms just to feel his embrace that brought you so much comfort in such a disastrous time. But at the same time, you knew that you had both changed a lot since then and weren’t quite sure where you stood.

“You know each other?” Tommy questioned – although his intense gaze was solely on you.

“In the war,” you mumbled, not even sparing a glance at Tommy – too scared that if you took your eyes off Alfie he would disappear again.

“She saved my life, right – told her she was a fuckin’ angel.”

Tommy grunted in obvious disgust to his potential new business partner’s obvious flirting with his sister. You, however, couldn’t help the way you became flustered at his words. Even after so long, he was still the most charming man you had ever met.

“Right,” Tommy hummed, still not quite certain what to make of the turn of events. “Can we do business and then you two can catch up?”

At those words, both you and Alfie seemed to snap out of the trance and state of shock you were in. Alfie was quick to nod to your brothers words, gesturing for you both to follow him, although his head kept darting back to look at you – causing you to smile to yourself.

“I’ve heard very bad, bad things about you Birmingham people,” Alfie huffed to himself as you all entered his office, gesturing for you both to sit down while he sat in the leather chair on the other end of his desk.

You watched as he ran a hand over his thick beard, the new addition to his features seeming to compliment him – you liked it, you decided.

“You’re Gypsies, right?” He questioned, eyes darting between you and Tommy as if trying to seek any form of resemblance between the both of you. “So what, do you live in a tent? Perform magic to get your crops to grow?”

“We’re not traditional travellers, Alf,” the nickname seemed to naturally slip out, causing a small smile to grow on Alfie’s face – only for it to drop when Tommy interrupted.

“We came here to discuss business with you, Mr. Solomons.”

“Well,” Alfie mused, holding a finger out in the air while he began to rifle through his the cabinet by his desk. “Rum is for fun and fucking, innit? So, whiskey, now that is for business.”

You couldn’t help the way your entire body heated up when he glanced towards you as he spoke – the action causing your brother to tense beside you. He wasn’t sure how close you and Alfie were during the war, but from the way you were behaving; it was obvious that you had gotten to know each other quite well.

Tommy knew that when you returned home with everyone who fought – you seemed to be missing a piece of yourself. But he just assumed you had lost your humanity, like most of the men who were in France – so he never pressed it. Now it seemed like he understood, you had lost more than you had bargained for out there.

Not only did you lose you innocence, but you believed that you lost someone important to you.

“Let’s talk first, eh?” Tommy settled on replying curtly, watching as Alfie put the alcohol back with an eye-roll – an action he had seen you do countless times when he told you that you couldn’t drink.

You barely paid attention to what Tommy and Alfie spoke about, only tuning in when it seemed like the conversation turned to the war.

“I once carried out my own personal form of stigmata on an Italian,” Alfie wildly gestured to your brother. “I pushed his face up against the trench and shoved a six-inch nail up his fucking nose and I hammered it home with a duckboard. It was fucking biblical mate!”

You slightly winced at the way he began to get louder at the end of his sentence, the sound causing both men in the room to dart their attention to you – Tommy already understanding your fear of screaming after what you had been through.

“I got shot right, by one of them fucking Italians – put me life into the hands of yer’ sister over there. So don’t come in here and sit there in my chair and tell me that I’m losing my war to a fucking wop!”

Tommy was quick to reach over and place a calming hand on your knee as you felt your heart rate pick up. He was always in-tune with your emotions – causing Polly to swear that you had some time of sibling bond so you both just knew when the other wasn’t okay.

“That war was a long time ago,” Tommy calmly spoke, noticing the way Alfie seemed to become worried at the way you shrunk into yourself. “You need to be more realistic.”

“Realistic, yeah?”

Tommy continued when you gave his hand a squeeze to show that you were alright. “Realistic. If you weren’t losing the war, you wouldn’t have sent me the telegram.”

“Really?” Alfie practically snorted. “You forget your fuckin’ telegram. The telegram just said, ‘hello!’ Face it, you want to sell me something – what?”

With a deep breath, you decided to break the intense stare off between the two men who were exuding testosterone. You had a feeling that Alfie would be more open minded if you were the one to propose the deal.

“We join forces,” you drew the attention to yourself. “We know about your distillery. We know it provides one-tenth of your income, protection being another ten percent and the rest is from the races.

“You see, Alf, Mr. Sabini is going to continue running all your bookies off your courses and will close down the premises that take your rum. People won’t trust your protection anymore.”

Alfie cleared his throat at your words, running a hand down his face before gesturing towards Tommy with an open hand.

“He shot Billy Kimber, right?” He asked you, but you didn’t respond. “Your brother betrayed him, yeah? So love, it would be appropriate to do what I’m thinking in my head to him right now.”

With a sigh, you confirmed that Alfie had certainly changed since the last time you saw each other. He wasn’t the same man who promised to write you letters, or tenderly held you in his arms and pressed soft kisses to your forehead. He was rougher, had fought against the devil himself and come out on top – and in a way you could understand. You were tougher too.

“Just hear my brother out,” you pleaded, watching as he mulled over your words before agreeing with a single nod.

You let the men speak again, watching in worry as Alfie pulled a rag out of his pocket mid-rant and tossed it towards you brother – you head turning to see your brothers nose bleeding.

He looked a disaster, but nevertheless ignored Alfie’s rag and wiped under his nose with his hand – letting Alfie continue his ramble about cutting a cabinet in half, before trailing off to sending Mandalay to some place called Timbuktu.

Tommy was quick to cut the man off with his offer, raising to his shaky feet as he looked between you and Alfie.

“I’ll let you think about the deal, Mr. Solomons. You can send me another telegram,” he blinked a couple of times trying to clear his vision, before looking down at you. “Say your piece and then come find me once you’re done.”

You watched in worry as Tommy seemed to stumble out of Alfie’s office – his hands grabbing any available surface to stable himself. But as much as you wanted to trail after him, you could feel Alfie’s eyes burning holes in the side of your face, so you slumped back down in your chair.

The pair of you stared at each other for what felt like hours, still not quite believing that the other was in-front of you after so long. You could still remember the day that you were told Alfie was killed; but the days following the news were the hardest.

You could barely focus on your work, many of your fellow nurses having to take over from you – sympathy on all of their faces. However, it was three days later that seemed to change everything. You had just left the infirmary tent for a break, needing to get some fresh air and regain your composure after a patient died on your watch.

He was a young boy, not much younger than your brother John – which caused you to begin to worry about your brothers who were still out on the front-lines fighting. A cigarette was lazily burning between your fingers as your hand dangled at your side, your eyes staring out at the recovering soldiers who all sat around a fire playing cards.

The war had taken so much, but it seemed like it wanted to take more – because before you could even comprehend what was happening, the first shell hit. You watched as the tent a few meters away from you burst into a cloud of red and black, the force throwing you meters back as you hit your head on the ground.

Your ears rang as you sat up – just in time to see the second shell hit the other end of the tent, and you didn’t even hear the scream that tore through your throat knowing that your fellow nurses and patients were still inside.

That memory lingered in your mind every day – your nightmares being filled with the booming sounds and feeling of the earth shaking beneath your weak figure. By the time you were found, you were shaking like a leaf, eyes wide in shock and desperation as you crawled away from the soldiers who began to lift you to your feet.

You couldn’t hear them as they spoke to you, reluctantly letting them pull your stunned figure up as they took you to get treated. Three days later you were deployed to another base in Amiens.

It was the moment your life changed, and you countlessly thought about returning home everyday – but pushed through because there was a job to do and you owed it to everyone you had lost to honour them. If Polly ever found out she would tell you that your stubborn Shelby genes would be your downfall one day.

Perhaps they would.

“They told me yer’ were dead,” Alfie broke the tension between the both of you, raising from his chair that let out a squeal of protest. “Said it there was a blast at your infirmary when I left the fight.”

“You left?”

“About a year before it ended,” he rubbed under his nose as he came to stand against the desk in-front of you, only a few centimeters away from you. “I asked about yer’, right. Wanted to know where I could find yer’ – but they told me yer’ were gone.”

“They told me the same, Alf,” you’re voice was a mere whisper as you too raised to your feet. “Said you were killed in battle and I was just about ready to give up after that.”

Alfie’s touch caused you to flinch at first, but you quickly relaxed as his calloused thumbs wiped away the tears that you hadn’t even noticed.

“I kept your letters with me,” he moved to rest his forehead against yours, your heart rate speeding up at how close he was. “Still have them in my fuckin’ desk, don’t I? Take ‘em out to read when it becomes too much.”

You let a small smile grow on your face as you reached into the pocket of your coat – the action causing Alfie to frown, almost expecting you to pull out a gun. He relaxed when he saw the slip of paper you pulled out, obviously worn and thinned from the countless times you had unfolded and folded it again.

“It’s the first one you ever sent,” you admitted, resting it just above his heart; feeling the racing beats. “The others are tucked under my bed. I pull them out to read at night when I can’t sleep. This is my favourite though, the way you describe this place; Margate. It’s beautiful.”

“You’d love it,” he mumbled, before pulling you into his arms – the two of you holding on to each other tightly. “It’s peaceful. The waves calm your head, right. I’ll take yer’ one day.”

You couldn’t help the sob that fell from your lips, echoing in the silent atmosphere around you. You never thought you would have this moment again; never thought you’d feel his arms around you or hear his voice that always brought you so much happiness which seemed to be an impossible feeling back in France.

You had Alfie back, as he had you – neither of you were going to say goodbye again. A silent promise that was made in that moment.

A promise to build that future that was lost on the battlefield, covered by the thick mud that used to stick to your skin. This was your second chance and you were going to make the most of the predicament as you could.

Two broken souls, mending each other after being forced apart for so long.

628 notes · View notes

awanderingdeal · 4 years

Text

In which Sirius takes back Halloween

My fic for the fabulous fic -o-ween! This is not even remotely scary and is basically a big fluff ball. I hope you enjoy your Halloween as much as Sirius and co!

A big shout out to @ais-for-alex for being my beta for this fic. I did make a couple of changes as I was re-reading this morning (who can resist) so any mistakes are most likely my fault.😂

And finally, a massive thank you to @lumosinlove for lending us these wonderful characters to play with. They really have been a massive part of my lockdown sanity.

Rating: G

CW: Food mentions

“Do you think I should sell this house?” Sirius mused, tapping his long fingers against the rim of his mug.

Remus looked up slowly from his tablet, from which he’d been reading the daily news. “Why would you want to do that?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s just so big, you know,” Sirius shrugged, taking a second to formulate his thoughts into a coherent reply. “I kind of just brought it as an act of rebellion when I got my first pay check. We’re never really here and even when we are, we use what, maybe five of the rooms.” He leaned back in his chair, pushing his hair back off his face. “It just feels so soulless,” he finished, glancing at Remus to gauge his reaction. His boyfriend was as impossible to read as ever, not giving an ounce away until he opened his mouth to speak.

“So, give it soul then.” Remus said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Like you said we’re never here. But we could be. We can make memories here if you want to,” he smiled gently at the thought. “Maybe, we could start with me officially moving my stuff in here?” he added, biting into a doughnut casually. If Sirius didn’t know Remus better he would have thought that the monumentality of the question had bypassed him.

Sirius wrapped his arms around Remus's waist pulling him close, smiling into his curls at the memory. It had taken place two years ago now and of course, Remus had been right. Sirius couldn’t imagine living anywhere else now. A crunching sound interrupted his thoughts. He shook his head, but didn’t comment on his boyfriend’s breakfast, a leftover toffee apple, knowing from previous experiences that it would only encourage him to make worse choices.

The conversation in his memory had been the reason that he’d first thrown his annual Halloween bonanza, a tradition (if something that had only been done twice could be called a tradition) that was quickly becoming infamous. It was a family affair with all the team bringing their loved ones to enjoy what was quite frankly, an outrageous display of wealth. Each year, Remus and he turned their back garden into a fete with, pumpkin carving, a hay maze, apple bobbing, spooky cupcake decorating and face painting to name but a few things. No expense was spared. But it wasn’t about the money really.

A soft kiss to his jawline pulled him out of his thoughts again. Remus sighed contentedly and leaned into his chest, body warmth radiating between them. Sirius glanced down at the shorter man, giving him a reassuring smile. Remus could always tell when he was in his own head.

“Just thinking about last night,” Sirius hummed, his eyes flickering to the giant corkboard on the wall. It was currently monopolized by the polaroids that had been taken the previous evening. The collection showcased exactly what the party was all about.

It was the photo of Logan, his teeth clenched around an apple, sticky liquid dripping down his chin and eyes glimmering with competition. Next to it, the photo of Katie Dumais hugging a huge, black stuffed dog, almost the same size as her.

“Logan won me a new stuffie!” she had beamed as the photo was taken. Logan, much to Katie’s distain, ruffled her hair and told her, “N’importe quoi pour vous.” Anything for you.

It was the image of a frantic James declaring, “I have lost my child!” Olli and Timmy laughing in the background because they could see a tiny Harry dressed as a pumpkin toddling around behind his father.

It was the one of Talker, for once sitting still, albeit in a chair designed for small children, his eyes closed but his mouth moving. Across from him, Noelle’s expression was fondly exasperated as she tried to finish painting his face. Another photo evidenced that she had been successful; there were two matching skeletons (Thomas and little Xavi) with faces warped by laughter.

It was the collection of photos towards the top of the corkboard. Reg and Leo. Reg and Celeste. Reg and Jules. And his personal favourite, Reg and Remus.

“I love this one,” Sirius said aloud, his fingers reaching out to brush the picture he was referring to. Even now it still baffled him to see his brother interacting with his boyfriend so casually. At this point the two men had their own relationship outside of Sirius, founded on nerdy things that he failed to understand. His heart swelled as he took in the image of the two most important people in his life.

“It’s a great photo,” Remus agreed. He and Regulus had their heads close together, hands waving as they enthusiastically discussed something. Remus had a smug expression on his face, Reg looked disgruntled. The photo captured their personalities fantastically. “I think this is my favourite,” Remus added, pointing out a different polaroid.

This one was taken inside. An entanglement of blankets and sleeping children. Smitty’s youngest, Noah, had started it. He’d crashed around 9pm after an almighty sugar rush, and his father had laid him down in the quiet of the lounge to sleep. Katya Ivanov and Katie Dumais followed soon after. Harry had put up a valiant effort not to join them. In fact, there was a photo a little to the left of Sirius rocking his godson who was fighting his drooping eyelids. Never the less, he ended up in the pile too.

“One day, we will have one of our own to add to that pile,” Remus smiled, giving Sirius a squeeze.

“One day,” Sirius agreed, wiping a thumb across Remus's lips to remove a trace of toffee. "We better go and wake those two up. Marcie will be here soon – she won’t want to clean around them,” Sirius declared, his head inclining towards the lounge. Remus chuckled in response, spinning in Sirius’s arms and taking his hand to lead him to the other room. Sirius allowed himself to be led, picking up the camera from the counter as he passed.

The camera flashed and pushed out a photo with a click. Sirius grinned, shaking the small square whilst it developed. Slowly it revealed two men curled into one another, the taller of the them had his arms wrapped around the smaller. They looked peaceful. Remus tried to wake them up gently, but apparently the small shake to Kuny’s shoulder was enough to startle the pair. A string of Russian – almost certainly profanities – left Kuny’s mouth as he pulled himself away from Nado. Sirius noted the blush that spread over Kuny’s cheeks as he realised how entwined they had been.

“Right boys. I hate to kick you out but my housekeeper will be here soon and she does not need to be subjected to your hungover asses,” Sirius said, although he didn’t sound regretful at all.

Nado grumbled, showing Sirius his middle finger and sweeping his hair back of his face. “Come on Koon, I’ll drop you home.”

Leaving Remus to deal with their two unexpected guests, Sirius wandered back into his kitchen to pin the photo he had just taken with the rest. There wasn’t a lot of room left, but he managed to squeeze it between a photo of Natalie and Kasey holding their carved pumpkins, and a particularly sweet one of the cubs. Finn’s lips were pressed against Leo’s nose, red from the cold. Logan cocooned between them, resting his head on Finn’s chest. Sirius couldn’t help but smile as he realized that none of them were wearing the same sweaters they had arrived in, seemingly having swapped them over the course of the evening.

Remus came back soon enough, shaking his head and huffing out a laugh. Sirius didn't want to know. “They'll be gone soon. We should pick up. Marcie isn't paid enough to deal with…this" Remus said, gesturing towards the chaos of the kitchen. Sirius looked around, a grimace forming on his face before he nodded his agreement. The floor was littered with costume parts, either lost or removed as games were played and alcohol was drunk – devil horns here and iron man’s mask there. There was a stain on the rug where a bowl of perfectly spiced pumpkin soup had been spilt. Toilet paper had managed to make its way into the craziest of places, casualties of the mummy competition. Popcorn crunched under his feet – the impromptu viewing of ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ had happened two rooms over - how popcorn had ended up in the kitchen, Sirius did not know.

Despite it all, Sirius would do it all again tomorrow. Growing up, Halloween had been characterized by loneliness and jealousy. His overly religious parents had declared the holiday heinous and banned even mentions of the event. In the supermarket, they snatched offered candy out of his hand and Sirius had listened on wistfully as the other children spoke about their hauls. The memories made him a little sad, but it was okay now, Sirius had reclaimed it – Halloween was his again.

#sweaterweater #coast to coast #fic-o-ween #food mentions #slightly edited 24/02/21

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nyarisu · 4 years

Text

Völkerball liveblogging

Dear lord this took me so long to edit you better appreciate it

Reise reise

Oooo~ but I still like the Hellfest version more :)) (Till’s face during the Hellfest chorus will always be my sexuality)

Schneider’s costume is fabulous but I’ll never trust those curls

Also vampire Reesh that’s a good look

Asdfghjklthe vagina entrance XDDD they really had to

Hello nice legs

I’ve watched this only once because i don’t like the sound. Someone said Till was sick and I don’t know what actually happened but his voice kinda sounds like it, especially more towards the middle of the live.

But the chorus is still so nice~

The tongue via Till’s fucked up slut face

Olli’s really serious

"Ist kein Licht am Horizont" REESH DO YOU WANNA KILL ME?? That was one sexy face

I really love Till’s expressions i want to kiss his face

The eyes! And then looking up to the sky<3 (was there even a sky or was inside I didn’t even notice XD)

I really don’t like Paul and Flake’s costumes

Fucking god that entrance is craking me up

Links 234

Hei hei hei!

I love how they all march on the stage

Bwhbwbwhwbhwbwhw XD

That’s a nice middle to wrap your hands around, mr Lindemann

I love when he’s hittig his chest on “links”

THE FANGS

Paul means business XD

You can’t not sing with them during links

Oh the solo<3 sounds so nice live

Thank god my favourite person from this stupid band is also the one most filmes otherwise I would’ve been in trouble

Dem boobs XD

Keine lust

I thought it was Sonne for one sec

He kicked the mic stand XD

Now you can hear he’s a little raspy

Yes Till we know the lyrics’ meaning and also that you’re horny

The chorus sounds nice again, it sounds better when he’s actually siniging vs talking

Who’s foamning at the mouth over that patch of skin under his pants, I’ve seen people talk about that (unfortunately it’s doing nothing for me)

"kaaaalt. Soo kaaaalt" I’ll keep you warm bby just don’t be sad T_T

Ok but Flake’s headpiece is actually hilariuous gotta admit

I really want to kiss Till *opening his mouth like a retarded owl* I don’t think I want anymore

Feuer frei

That was his I’m ready to slut pose XD

DONT HIT YOURSELF YOU DUMB BABY

Ooooooh Olli got shirtless (what were they calling this?)

I really like RZK’s top

Of course he’s gotta bully Flake

Chumby

I’m really trying to focus more on image but the voice is such a big thing for me and it’s clear he has something

The masks!! I love those so much

„Jaaaa”

Wow Schneider’s drumsticks went out with a literal bang

Asche zu Asche

4 lines later I finally realised what song is >.< and only because Till began to sing...

DID YOU SEE WHAT HE WAS DOING WITH THOSE DRUMSTICKS?!? I knew why I had a thing for hands/fingers

Asdfghjkl Richard strutting down the stage with his little red stripe<3

He’s a moody goth and I love his look did he just put his hands on his hips? XD

Till’s cheeks! I want to pinch his face

Everyone’s favourite part and THE NECK TILT ok wow now that was hot

Tho I usually preffer the “In zehn Tagen” to RZK’s “Ich komm wieder” now it was the opposite (probably because I couldn’t see Till that well) and Reesh acting all sexy was definitely improving it

Go Flake go XD he’s so serious and by the end he’s having the time of his life meanwhile Till is having an existential crisis (another)

Olli’s abs are heeeeella nice

Till with his hand over his heart didn’t help his case

Yeah Richard ok you’re sexy i get it holly fuck I’ve never been more attracted to him

And now i’ll never be able to unsee the neck tilt

That ich kom wieder just unmade me

Morgenstern

Bath time XD

I really like when Till slicks his hair back

Dear lord the chorus thank you for your voice sir and congrats on it

I really like the general image of a bassist playing their bass (other verb I could’ve used was fingering XD that’s literally what he’s doing!!)

Ooooh the keyboards sound so nice<3

DON’T pluck your eyes out!

The fire part is really impressive

I love then Richard is doign his gay boy pose XD and then the closeup on him while bobbing his head

I need to say once again the chorus sounds wundershon

Mein Teil

The first 2 seconds I thought it was MHB

Paul and Richard walking towards each other<3

Aaaand the epicness begins!

Schneider is fabulous behind his drums, can’t forget about him

YEET

The tongue’s is at it again

FLAKE POPING UP WITH THAT SMILE CRACKED ME UP you demented human

People are rocking the hell out this song

“durch Engelsscharen” Till’s expression<3

And the maddnes begins. Wow it was shorter than usual... obviously, it was at the beginning

Flake has such a special style of running I can’t XD

Stein um Stein

And everyone is gonna talk about him drawing a house xD it was cute (considering what the song is about)

You’re being a slut again

Aaaaah I want to complain about the playback but I really can’t I rather prefer him with vocal cords. At least the rest of the song sounded excelent!

The little sound at the end of „sein” and his face: childish enjoyment while talking about fucked up shit. If this doesn’t perfectly summarize Till then I don’t know what does

Schenider’s smile

No but really beside the screeching parts he sung it so well!

Were they trying to film Richards crotch? Whatever he’s sexy

Another reason why I watch this only once before was me being kind of meh regarding Till’s look he’s my favourite after all I gotta act the part

Los

My fucking god Scheider’s legs! I fucking love thighs. And he has a nice ass too

Richard’s smile!! Don’t kill me

Is it me or does Till start to stare into space and look generally Not Ok (tm)?

„fucking mickey mouse” XDDD

Los is among the last 10 songs on my list I usually just skip it

I died when I saw him with a harmonica the first time

Flake and Olli XD

Don’t manhandle poor Flake (I really want to say I wish that were me but knowing myself I would probably just deck Till in the face XD)

The sunglasses are sick

RZK and Till headbaning<3

Rip (rest in pieces) to keyboard

Du riechts so gut

THE BOW! The cute flamingo pose aside, that bow is one of my favourite pyro effects ever

And then the synchronised bodybanging<3

That „pang” never sounded so good?

WHY THE FUCK DID YOU EVEN MENTIONED THE NECK TILT REESH IS SO SEXY HERE I CAN’T EVEN

The deepest he sings the lees you hear the raspiness

Lord! The whole audience just fucking went for it

Schneider’s muscles, Richard’s little smirk and Till zombie 2.0

Even more bodybanging. Flake is enjoying himself

WHAT THE FUCK WHY ARE YOU SO PRETTY?!? (me to Richard)

Flake casually going back to his keyboards uthgjkhfzc that looked so cool and smooth

I promise I still drool over Till just... Richard is so prettily standing there! I cant ignore him!

The firesleeves are so cool and it looks so good, especially with them facing different ways

And freeze! Nice and dramatic

Till hammer time

That one guy really feeling the „DRSG” in the audience XD

Benzine

3 consecutive thought: it is Benzine fuck yeah, I can never tell if it’s Benzine or Keine Lust, Till’s terrified face

The most Rammstein song to ever Rammstein

Paul going wild XD but I still don’t like his hat

Flake is spazzing again

Du hast

Thank god I’m actually enjoying this song now, I skipped it for half a year

The drums and the beginning and the keyboards are <3

The tongue >w<

People are going wild

I like Richard’s dramatic gesturing. Pretty rockstar boy

The chorus sounds so good

Flake what is that on your head? XD is he a One Piece character?

Did he just casually shoved the mic into his pocket? XD

I much more preffer the newest effect from Paris onwards (which is also my top favourite)

Sehnsucht

This song has a very special and unique feel to it probably because it screams Live aus Berlin more than any other (and now I feel like watching LAB again)

It’s the chanting in the background probably

He’s sounding sick again :(

You have muscles in the arms (and probably legs too) and chumby in the belly it’s perfect

Lol @ Paul trying to look scary

„SEHNSUCHT!”

Ok Richard honey you can stop with the sexy neck tilt

He’s slapping the hell out of his guitar

Please stop pulling your hair out

Amerika

@Flake on that thing: wierd flex but ok

Sexy fishnet legs

Wow that’s a really soft and nice opening, pretty unexpected

LOL Flake taking off his hat like „sorry for your loss” but considering the song it’s expected from him XD

Beauatiful eyes<3

He’s just nyooming from one side of the stage to the other? XD

That eyeliner looks so fucking good on Till

Flake is suffering :)) (what the fuck was I talking about I can’t remember now that I’m editing)

Even Richard’s hair looks pretty! What the fuck??

The last scene with Schneider (and then his legs)

Rammstein

Those are some fucking guns he has right there

This is the most badass intrumental intro ever

“Scheeeeeein”

Oooooh so this is where that gif was coming from for some reason it thought it was Engel from MSG. Does this live even has Engel on it?

I love when drummers throw their sticks in the air and then catch them again

Ok the image of Till slowly backing off between Paul and Richard who were both vibing in their own way was really nice

Sonne

Schneider is enjoiying this isn’t he XD

For some reason this song doesn’t seem as energic as it usually is?

Was Till humping the mic stand? (more likely than you’d think)

Seing Flake and Till doing the hammer side by side is really funny, that’s some size difference

Ich will

Bye bye mic stand again

Till baby what did you do with your throat to make your voice sound like that?

Richard looking to the side during „ich will” hhhhhHhh

Let me slap that ass Till

I want to lick your face

Ohne dich

Ollie what are you doing

Asdfhjkl Flake comforting Till and the way he just rests his head on Flake’s shoulder is breaking my heart

Poor baby come here and let me love you

You can clearly see he’s trerrified

Lsnhxkvj his eyes<3

Nawwww they are kissing

I am silently thristing over Till don’t mind me

Please don’t cry T_T and then him looking over his bangs sfdghjkl

„is he... ya know” pose with a hand in the air Heirate mich style (aka Till Lehmann is a sub)

Look I know he’s suffering and all but I really can’t focus on that with all the water dripping off him

Stripped

No wonder I didn’t recognised the song it doensn’t even exist to me XD

Till pointing like „you. drop your panties. now” XD

I had half a mind to skip it but then I would have missed Till’s wonderful tongue performance

Was he flicking it to the rythm??

Hearing him sing in english is always so weird (I only recently rediscovered the gem the Children of the Sun is)

Richard what was that sexy face?

Ollie is braving the human seas, telepathy at its finest XD

Hmm that is a really nice lower back

Gangsta XD „how do you do fellow kids”

Paul is enjoying the show

Schneider has killer looks. Literally XD

YEET

Conclusions:

Half of it went really slow and then the other half went really fast? I don’t understand what happened

So this is the setting for Mit Dir Bin Ich Auch Allein... ok, good to know ;)

You sure this was a good idea 4 songs in and I already wrote 2 pages, now the total is at 6.

I’m not particulary fond of the looks and Till sounds sick so I usually avoid this live. Also some songs are weird with the energy so yeah

Richard is so pretty I can’t (and fucking hot how come I don’t remeber this??)

#rammstein #rammbois #liveblogging #I have a temporal crush on Richard quick I need to read some fics #but no seriously why was he so pretty??#Rena's R+ ramblings

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asongofmarvelanddc · 5 years

Text

Earth-46 PT1

PAIRINGS: Oliver Queen X Reader , eventual Steve Rogers X Reader

WORD COUNT: 1222

WARNINGS: None.

SUMMARY: While on a mission to save Earth-46 with Barry, you accidentally get dropped on a random Earth. Will you ever get back to your own Earth? Will you want to go back? (Short series)

A/N: This is a repost due to my blog being deleted, please reblog to signal boost!

A/N: This is a sort of DCXMarvel crossover thing that I thought of. Please let me know what you guys think! Ignore the science in this because it is 100% made up😂

“I can’t do it.”

You were surrounded by members of Teams Arrow and Flash as they waited for you to finish building a container. Barry came to you the night before with a dilemma. One of the villains he was facing, another speedster -surprise surprise- had planted a bomb on another Earth to distract Team Flash while she carried out her ‘masterplan’.

The bomb had the capacity to level half of the country on that Earth- and neither Barry, nor Caitlin or Cisco could figure out how to stabilise it, so they came to you. You’d found a way to create a container that would absorb the energy created by the blast and convert it into electrical energy. The plan was for you to build it, then Barry would take it to Earth-46 and attach the device to the bomb.

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Oliver hovered closest, he stood directly over you as you worked.

“I mean...I can build the container, but there’s no guarantee that it’ll work there,” you said as you swivelled round in your chair to face all of them, “Earth-46 vibrates on a completely different frequency to this Earth. This device, the way it’s built, might work here, but it won’t work there.”

“Why not?” Barry asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I-It has to be assembled in a certain way depending on the Earth’s frequencies,” you explained, “Right now, I’ve come up with about 536 different combinations that could work there.”

You paused as you looked around at all of them, “The only way to know which combination works, is if I know the frequency-”

“And the only way for you to know that, is to assemble it there,” Caitlin finished. You nodded slowly as you all realised what had to be done. You had to go with Barry, you had to assemble it there and you had to attach the device to the bomb.

“No.”

You looked up at Oliver when he spoke and frowned, “What?”

“I said no,” he repeated, his arms folding across his chest as he shook his head, “You’re not going, end of. We’ll find some other way.”

Everyone was quiet when he spoke again, but then you scoffed and rolled your eyes. You stood up from your chair and raised an eyebrow at him, “Can I talk to you alone for a second?” You turned and walked to the corner of the room, knowing he was following close behind. You folded your arms when he stopped in front of you.

“You’re not going, Y/N,” he began before you even had a chance to speak, “It’s way too dangerous, and I’m not risking you getting hurt.”

“There’s no other way,” you sighed.

“There has to be,” he insisted, “One way or another, that bomb has to go off, and if you’re too close when it does...” He paused for a moment as he looked away and placed his hands on his hips, “You’ll die and I can’t let that happen.”

“Millions of people will die if I don’t do this, Ollie,” you spoke softly as you held his hand, “I don’t think we have a choice.”

He let out a heavy sigh as he looked down at your hand his, “I can’t let you do this.”

“Either way, I’m still gonna do it,” you shrugged, “I’d prefer it if I had your blessing.”

He was quiet for a short while. “Ollie?” you asked. Eventually he looked up at you and nodded slowly. You let out a breath of relief and smiled.

“Just...be careful,” he let out a shuddering breath. You smiled and leaned up to kiss him softly, but he held you closer, savouring you just in case it was the last time. When you pulled away, he didn’t loosen his grip.

“Always,” you murmured, your nose brushing against his. When his hold loosened, you let out a soft chuckle and held up your left hand, “I’m pretty sure you’re not allowed to die when you’re planning a wedding.”

Oliver let out a short laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. You knew he wasn’t okay with any of this, but it didn’t change the fact that it was something you had to do.

“Well!” you let out a sigh and walked back towards your friends, “We better get going, Barry.”

You bent down and grabbed a backpack from under one of the desks before filling it with all the components you would need. When you were done, you left the room and changed into your suit before coming back. Once the backpack was on and you were ready, you said your goodbyes to the team.

Oliver stood away from everyone else, waiting for you to approach him. “I’ll be back soon,” you smiled reassuringly and he returned it. As you turned to leave, he grabbed your hand, stopping you in your tracks.

“Y/N...I...” His eyes focused on you alone. He was never one for public displays of affection of any kind, especially in front of his friends, but he didn’t need to say it out loud. You could see it in his eyes.

You smiled and stroked the back of his hand softly, “I know. Me too.”

You let out a heavy sigh and moved to stand beside Barry, “You ready?”

You turned to him with a raised eyebrow and chuckled nervously, “No.”

“Great!” he nodded before you both disappeared in a...well, in a flash.

And then...darkness.

__________________________

When you opened your eyes, all you could see was a bright, white light, and then your eyes adjusted and you realised you were looking up at a blue sky.

A road. You were pretty sure you were lying in the middle of the road. Why? What happened?

You groaned and tried to sit up, the sounds of honking extremely loud from all directions, but your body was so heavy that you barely managed to lift your head. You tried to move again, but heard a sudden loud, piercing ringing in your ears and an immense pressure in your head. You slowly raised your hands to your ears to try to dampen the pain as you shut your eyes, but it didn’t work.

You opened your eyes again when you heard faint footsteps approaching you. Your eyes trailed up fancy, black shoes, to black trousers and a long black coat before finally stopping on the face of the man standing above you. He had a bald head and a stern expression on his face but the thing that stood out was the black eyepatch on his left eye.

He was staring down at you, his hands held behind his back. “Who- Who are you?” you mumbled, your throat dry for some reason. You heard someone come up behind you, and suddenly, something that felt distinctly like a needle was stuck into your neck.

You titled your head and saw a blonde woman pushing some kind of liquid into your neck, “Wha- what are you- what are you doing?” You felt your eyes getting heavy suddenly and your breathing slowed.

The dark man with the eye patch crouched down beside you, his head cocking sideways in curiosity.

“Now, where did you come from?” he muttered as darkness consumed you once again.

#oliver queen #arrow #oliver queen x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #nick fury #barry allen #the flash #felicity smoak #caitlin snow #cisco ramon

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hardyimagines · 6 years

Text

Nerve

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Helloo can I request an Alfie proposing fic?! Maybe he realises he doesn't wanna do life without the reader so he decides to make it permanent, maybe he's nervous that she'll say no because he's old. Idk write it however you want I'd just love to read it! P.s please defs put Cyril in it 😂 thanks love x — ?

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“It’s a sexy language.” You muttered, sprawled out on the torn cushion. There was a gaping hole in the center beside your head from where Cyril had absolutely mauled the furniture. He was trying to hide the bone his father had given him two nights ago and instead of tucking the treat away beneath the couch, he decided to just bury it inside. “Pet, it’s not sexy.” Alfie grunted, shifting on the arm chair to the left of you. The wooden legs creaked quietly, showing just how old the furniture was. “Fucking boring it is, you’ve-“ You sat up quickly at his words, turning fully to face him. You knelt up on the cushion, small fingers sinking into the arm of the couch. You cut him off. “You only think it’s boring because you understand it.” You muttered before rolling your eyes. Alfie adjusted the ring on his left hand, eyes unmoving from the wide silver that curled around his middle finger. He didn’t direct his blue orbs toward you until you spoke up, effectively silencing him, he squinted. “Right, well, there’s where we fucking disagree then, yeah. You don’t speak it, that’s why you’re fucking-.” “Well, you don’t speak it either.” You cut him off again. Alfie growled loudly, his cheeks reddening slightly from the irritation at his inability to finish a single sentence. “Right, what are you playing at, girl?” Slamming the red-colored book shut that resided on his lap, it briefly settled on his knee before he tossed the hardcover on to the glass surface of the coffee table and slunk forward. His forearms pressed to his knees and he directed a pointed finger toward you. “Are you tryna piss me off, lass? I think you fucking are. I haven’t been able to finish a single fucking sentence Y/N.” You smirked to yourself before giving him the most innocent look you could muster. “No.” You pouted. “I’m sorry, Alfie.” His eyes flashed visibly with a look of apology for his shouting before he shrank back, getting comfy once more. “Don’t apologize.” He muttered as his back sunk further into the soft cushion as he fixated his curious orbs on the window.

The rain had been relentlessly pouring for hours, soaking anyone who dared set foot outside for even a second. The water droplets raced along the glass, fogging it slightly. He wasn’t pulled from the scene until your quiet voice filled the room again. “Alfie?” He looked toward you. “I do speak it, by the way. Not fluently, right, it’s difficult for me to remember all them Russian words, yeah, but I do know them.” You lifted a brow as he drew the previous topic back up. “Oh, you do?” This time, you revealed your smirk to him. “Well let’s hear something then.” You rose from your position on the sofa and sauntered toward him. His legs were spread, eyes lifting to yours as you approached him. “I don’t know what to say, pet.” He grumbled, shuffling his boots against the recently swept floorboards. “Oh, come on, Alfie, don’t be like that.” Your smirk fell. “I wanna hear!” Your small hands met your waist, gripping it gently as you stood right in front of his opened knees. “Right, what’s wrong with my English?” He slouched, head tipping back to rest against the chair. “It’s not sexy enough for you?” A breathy sigh escaped you. “Your voice is sexy in general, Alfie.” You laid your hands on his arms before placing your knee beside his hip. Lowering yourself down and on to his lap, you shifted repeatedly to get comfy, though it was just causing repeated pressure to his groin so he let out a soft grunt followed by a low mumble of warning for you to be still, so you did. “How’s my voice attractive? It’s just a deep fucking sound.” You smiled lazily before wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him in close to you. “Mh, but it sounds awfully good when it goes all husky and you’re turned on.” The man lifted his brows simultaneously. “You, yeah, you are the horniest girl I’ve ever fucking met, you know that?” You scoffed at his accusation. “Sorry, how does that make me horny! I was only talking about your voice.” Shrinking back a little more so you could see his face fully, amusement danced in both of your gazes before you both leaned in for a soft and slow kiss. Alfie wasn’t finished messing with you though. “Sex is always on your mind.” He sighed against your lips when you began to part. “It’s so unhealthy.” He continued. Your mouth opened wide, staring down at him with a glare now. You knew he was playing around and you loved every second of it. “I’m not the one who comes home from work, begging for oral. You’re the horny one, I’m just the occasional-.” You rose up from his lap, but he pulled you back down instantly, cutting you off as he’d done to you. “That was one time.” He pointed out, matter of factly. “One time, a hundred times, it doesn’t matter, point is it happened.” You wiggled your brows before rising again, continuing to talk. “I’m talking about your voice and you moved the topic to sex.”

This time you made it off of his lap, but when you made your way out of the room and toward the kitchen to get a snack, you could hear the pop of his knees and then the sound of his boots thudding along the floor as he followed. “Pet.” He growled lowly. “There’s a huge difference! If I asked all the time, your jaw would be fucking useless, wouldn’t it?” You smirked widely as you drew open a drawer. Pulling out a silver spoon to use for whatever you decided to eat, you halted, turning to face him. “Hang on, how do you know a woman’s jaw is sore afterward?” You sent him an accusing look of surprise. “Oh, Alfie. Have you sucked a-“ The man stepped forward, loud boots thudding harsher against the floor. “No!” He barked. “I’m a bit too busy with you, aren’t I? I think I give you the royal treatment much more than you give me.” He grunted before watching you intently as you turned away. That damned smirk was still on your face. “You’re a hungry man.” You pointed out before stepping around him to retrieve the bread from another cabinet. Alfie scratched the back of his neck. He really wasn’t complaining. He loved giving, and receiving.

The cupboard slammed shut audibly behind you as you traipsed along the floor and toward the drawer to get a plate. Laying the bread out on the dish so you could make a sandwich, you hummed softly, eyes briefly dropping to the floor as you heard Alfie stepping up behind you. Pretending to be oblivious, you began to sway lazily, singing a quiet tune as you smothered the bread with some grape-flavored jam. Alfie hovered behind you, his chest mere centimeters away. “Speaking of hungry,” you glanced over your shoulder, noting the hunger that now decorated his features, though it wasn’t food he craved. You’d gone and done it now. Lifting your brows, you slowly turned around to face him. “Do you want a sandwich?” You really tried not to push him any further. You were still recovering from the sex the pair of you had just had thirty minutes prior to this little game you’d been playing. “Alfie.” Your hand pressed to his chest firmer, halting him as he attempted to move further forward. “Honey, I’m still a little sore.” That was not the reason you didn’t want to do it again. You’d gone one afternoon of never-ending love making and you knew the second you said that, Alfie would be questioning you. “Sore?” He pried. “What do you mean sore?” You licked your lips. “Not sore, honey, but my legs, they feel like jello.” Smiling shyly as you turned away from him to continue making your sandwich, you could feel his hot gaze, burning every inch of your skin that it ran across. “I can be gentle this time?” He offered. You smiled slowly before turning around to face him once more. “After I eat my sandwich, okay?”

You’d never seen a man look so much like an excited child, but Alfie was beaming from your words. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before you noticed him look toward your sandwich. “Go sit down and I’ll make you one.” You instructed, finally, turning again, to finish the first sandwich. This ten second job was turning into a ten minute one. Closing the bread, you licked your lips before moving to the table. Settling the glass down on the surface, it created a soft clink before you stepped away to make yourself one. “I could’ve waited, pet , I didn’t need the first one.” He grumbled, eyeing you as you moved around. “It’s alright.” You giggled quietly. “Just eat your sandwich.” Alfie obliged the second you told him it was okay. Practically devouring the food, his eyes were unmoving from the little sway of your hips. Your movements were innocent and you were simply dancing to the tune in your head, but your actions seemed to drag Alfie away from the present and to a long while ago when he’d met you.

—————

It was winter, two years ago. The sun had set a little while earlier and every club in town was coming to life at this time. Alfie had many many options on which one to attend, but he found himself lured toward the most vibrant one. Ollie tagged alongside him, twisting an unlit cigarette between two of his fingers as they moved in time with one another. The door to the club was slung open and held that way with a large rock. The music was loud, deafening almost, and the second the pair stepped into the building, more or less just for a drink, Alfie had locked eyes with you. You were stood beside the bar, clad in an outfit that resembled lingerie. Every other woman in the club, who worked there, wore the same thing. Most materials were solid black or white, he noticed some pinks and one blue, but yours was ivory and violet, lined with beautiful lace. Your hair was pinned but you allowed some loose curls to stray free from their updo. He briefly ogled the fishnets that embraced your thighs and then your boots, entirely too tall for anyone to walk in. But you managed, and you managed well. He’d requested you to be the waitress for Ollie and himself when the manager had passed by and since the club owner knew exactly who Alfie Solomons was, he wasted no time before assigning you to the man’s table. You’d been confused since your tables were on the opposite side of the room, but now, the most important job you had was to take care of the man with the beard and the lad beside him. You crossed the room with a tray in hand, two drinks propped up neatly on top. “Hi, welcome to Bliss.” You smiled. “I’m Y/N.” Though you were addressing both of them, you couldn’t help but stare down at Alfie. He was very handsome and although the boy beside him was probably closer to your age and a more suitable gent for you to be flirting with, Alfie looked more your type. “Alfie.” He spoke up gruffly. “This here’s Ollie.” He ushered to the boy beside him with his curled pinky. You briefly eyed the seemingly permanent broken finger before directing your gaze back to the man. “What’ll you be drinking?” You asked before lowering the tray and setting two waters on the tabletop. Ollie licked his lips before requesting some rum and Alfie shook his head lightly to your words. “Water’s fine, pet, thank you.” He shrank back. You studied him briefly before turning to retrieve some rum. You could feel the man’s eyes, locked on to your retreating form.

Alfie looked to Ollie with a light hum. “She’s pretty, yeah?” Ollie arched a brow. “I wasn’t really looking.” The boy spoke quietly before looking toward his boss. “Quit staring. You’ll make her uncomfortable.” The lad pointed out before looking toward you briefly. “Nah, she, yeah, she knows what she’s doing, lad. Keeping her back toward us. She’s not fucking doing nothing.” He ushered toward the bar. “They’ve probably got six bottles of rum opened back there, yeah, it’s a frequently ordered drink. Yet, she,” He watched you, tipping his head down slightly. “She’s opening a new bottle, mate, she’s putting on a little show.” Alfie sat back, eyes roaming your form briefly before he looked toward Ollie when he spoke again. “And is that bad? She could just be doing it for a tip.” Alfie cocked a brow. “And if she fucking is? I’ll be tipping big.” The smile on Alfie’s lips told Ollie all he needed to know. Just because he found you pretty, didn’t mean he was interested in you. Well, maybe in your body, but not in you. Ollie heaved a quiet sigh before watching alongside Alfie, but his boss hit the table lightly. “You watch someone else, yeah, don’t be sending her mixed signals. You don’t know how to fucking flirt with your eyes, now,” He pointed toward a blonde who was within perfect range of Ollie. “Go talk to her, yeah, leave me alone with this one.” Ollie shifted slowly. “I’m not a flirt, Alfie.”

The boy didn’t have time to say much else before you approached again. Setting the freshly opened bottle of rum down on the table, you poured him a glass, up to the brim, before sliding it across the table toward Ollie. “There you go.” He barely caught it. “And you,” you fixated Alfie with a curious look. “You’re sure you don’t want anything else besides water?” Your lashes, coated with a thin, but noticeable, layer of mascara fluttered before you laid your hand on the back of his chair. Flirting was what got you money around here and flirting was easy to do. Especially with a handsome man. Your fingertips grazed his shoulder and Alfie could hardly restrain himself from yanking you down on his lap. He wasn’t use to the little teasing and flirty touches. He was use to communication and then fucking. Straight to the point. You watched the way he lifted his glass to his lips before you directed your attention to Ollie. “Well then, I’ll be on my way.” Ollie’s eyes widened. “Hang on, Miss, my boss, he thinks you’re a looker.” Alfie had never been so embarrassed so quickly. His features, though composed and calm, tinted a dark shade of red. You, pretending to be oblivious to his shyness, tilted your head to the side before licking your lips. “Well tell your boss I said thank you.” You told Ollie though Alfie could hear you very clearly. “I think he’s very handsome.” Smiling kindly, you took a small step back before tearing your eyes away from the boy to the man. He was rubbing his teeth together. “If you need anything, I’ll be at the bar.”

The second you retreated, Alfie leant over the table toward Ollie. “I should put my whole fucking fist down your fucking throat, Ollie. Why the fuck, yeah, did you go and say that!” The boy, oblivious to the inner turmoil he’d caused Alfie, shifted with a flush. “I-I thought you were too nervous to say anything!” Alfie growled, hands curling as they rested atop the table. “Mate, that’s why you flirt with your eyes! She would’ve been looking over here all night, wondering what the fuck I think about her if you hadn’t gone and-“ he lifted his eyes away from Ollie when he noticed you approaching again. The man licked his lips before staring at the boy in warning. “Shut it.” He whispered before looking to you as you halted at his side. “Right, well, I thought I’d just come over and ask if you wanted to dance.” Your cheeks were red from shyness but you wore it like blush you’d purposefully dabbed on your cheeks. Alfie stared up at you, dumbfounded. No woman had ever had the guts to flirt with him in this way. This was brave. The man shifted slowly. “I’m not a dancer, pet.” Ollie kicked Alfie harshly beneath the table, receiving another warning look. “My- fucking hell! Ollie, get, go on somewhere else while I talk to the lass, yeah?” Your small hand moved to the man’s arm. Ollie grit his teeth before slowly rising. Alfie did not know how to flirt. He lifted his glass of rum before shyly slipping through the crowd and, accidentally, toward the blonde.

Alfie watched the boy run into the girl, splashing his alcohol along the front of her body. It was still loud, raging, booming, nobody stopped to help her. Nobody apart from Ollie. Alfie tore his eyes away from the scene to instead look back to you. “Right, what I was saying, yeah, before the boy decided to go and kick me, is that I don’t fucking dance. I’m no good at it, yeah, but you,” He eyed you. “Look like you know what you’re doing, right, so if you lead and don’t let me make a complete fool of myself, I will.” Your small hands slid along the lingerie you wore before you leaned in and cautiously took his hand. He seemed like he had a temper and you didn’t usually mess with men like that. But he was attractive and you felt daring. “Come on then.” You urged. His hip bumped the table lightly as he stood, nearly knocking over the bottle of rum, but you smoothly caught it, small hand moving away from his hand and instead to his forearm. Leading him backwards, along with you, you noted how tall he was. The dancefloor was slammed. People were jumping, bouncing, dancing hideously along to the music and although it wasn’t a slow song, the pair of you slow danced. Your body wrapped slowly around Alfie’s and he welcomed the touch. No woman had ever been so willing to push herself into his arms and when you did, he wasted no time before locking his arms around you as best as he could. The height difference made it a bit harder, but the pair of you managed. “I’ve never seen you here before.” You had to speak against his ear otherwise your words would’ve been swallowed by the music. Alfie smiled lazily, hands remaining on the middle of your back. “Was just coming by to check it out and you caught my eye the second I came in.” You pulled back slightly, small hands tracing his large shoulders. “Is that why you forced me to be your waitress?” You smiled lazily as he blushed once more. “You weren’t meant to be told. I thought they just told you to switch tables because you were short on staff-“ you laughed breathily, head shaking. “No, Mr. Solomons, they told me you insisted on having me as your waitress.” Alfie grunted, eyes rolling to the ceiling. “Well, that’s fucking embarrassing, innit?” You shook your head. “It’s awfully flattering, you shouldn’t be embarrassed.” The man closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down before he looked back to you. “Alfie? Alfie?”

—————

“Alfie?” He was pulled from the memory. You stood, one hand on your hip and the other on the table beside his empty dish. Studying him as he finally seemed to realize where he was and that you were talking to him, you frowned. “Are you alright?” Lifting your hand to the back of his head, your fingers slid through his hair, caressing the lengthy locks. Your sandwich was nothing but crust now, which meant whatever you’d been saying while Alfie was lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t heard. He looked at you intently, watching the way you stared at him with the same doe-eyed, adoring, head over heels in love look you’d been staring at him with for the past 768 days. Your love for him hadn’t, faltered. If anything, it had grown. Your hand continued to brush through his locks, studying his expression curiously before you smiled. He was still thinking about something. “Alright, when you decide to re-join me, let me know.” Leaning down, you placed your dish on the floor. “Cyril!” You called out softly, ears twitching as the sound of the mastiff racing down the steps filled the house. You’d just straightened up when Alfie caught you off guard, arm slipping around your hips to tug you into him. Gasping loudly, your small hands gripped on to his arms, trying to ensure you didn’t fall over as he dipped you. Giggling loudly as he leaned in and pressed his lips to your own, your small arm hooked around his neck, kissing him back with an eagerness you didn’t know you possessed. You whimpered softly into his mouth, laughter subsiding so you could focus on the kiss.

Cyril slipped past the both of you so he could gobble down the crust that was left for him, but he had to maneuver himself between your legs in order to get to the dish. His chomping was the only other noise in the house, apart from your lips smacking gently against Alfie’s. The man drew back, situating you in an upright position before he smoothed down his shirt. “What was that for?” You laughed happily, licking your lips to savor the feeling of his scratchy mouth on your own. Your eyes were droopy and your heart was beating loudly against your rib cage. “Just because I love you.” He lifted his plate and then leaned over to retrieve the one Cyril had licked clean. Approaching the sink, he washed each one thoroughly, ignoring your stare. He knew how much you cherished it when he told you he loved you. It was a daily thing, always said between the two of you, but because it wasn’t said in a quick, careless manner, you knew he really meant it. Usually, he took the time to kiss you or hug you as he told you. He was a very passionate man and you loved that you had him all to yourself. You moved up behind him so you could wound your small arms around his waist, mouth pressing against his clothed back. “I love you too.” You hummed breathily.

“Alright, I’m going to have a quick bath.” You spoke softly before looking up at him as he craned his neck. He hadnt forgot about the sex he’d just been so eager to have, prior to the memory, but now, he just wanted to think on his thoughts for a bit. “Okay.” He smiled softly. You squinted. What the hell was he thinking about? You leant up on your toes and pressed your lips against his own. Kissing him sweetly, your hands fell away from his body before you moved out of the room and up the stairs to the bathroom. Alfie tipped his head south, staring down at his boots before he looked to Cyril who sat, tail wagging happily. “What am I gonna do, mh?” Alfie sunk his hand into his pocket, finger tracing the ring he carried at all times of the day. His pinky curled around the diamond, eyes closing. He knew you’d say yes. The pair of you had talked about being together for eternity, so he knew, for a fact, you’d say yes. But he still felt pressured to make the proposal perfect. He felt pressured to make it romantic, to make it special. He knew you weren’t picky. You’d settle for anything, even if he just barged into the bathroom and asked the question without the ring. You’d cry. He knew that. Cry tears of happiness even if he had no ring to present to you. He’d listened to the wishes you had when it came to a wedding over the last several months of being together and he’d make sure to fulfill every single dream you had. “Fuck me.” He sighed before settling down on a nearby chair. What if you’d changed your mind though? Marriage had been discussed many times a while back but now the two of you didn’t talk about it much. Did you think he didn’t want you? Did you no longer want him? His head fell to his hand, breaths heavy. He was overthinking. “Right, come here, boy.” Cyril tilted his head to the side before moving toward his owner. “You’re gonna help me, yeah.”

—————

The water had decreased from its scalding temperature to a more barable one. Your skin was burned red, but you knew the color would fade in a while. Your feet bounced lazily against the rim of the tub, fingers tracing the chain that hung around your neck as you sat in the silence. Life was so good. Your boyfriend had changed your life for the better and you were eternally grateful. At one point, he’d just been a customer, the gangster that never stopped coming around to see you. You’d offer him some liquor, he’d turn it down. You’d offer him a dance, he’d stand instantly. He had always stayed till closing, dancing with you long after the music had stopped playing. Girls headed home as their shifts came to an end and you found yourself always offering to lock up because Alfie was always there, waiting to walk you home. He’d helped you clean up a few times, had even swept the sticky, food-covered wood floor, which was quite the sight. You could still remember the first time he’d kissed you. He’d been coming to the club for a month before he’d worked up the courage.

—————

You were stood by the bar, eyes rolling playfully as Alfie babbled on about how booming his business was. You cradled a dirty cloth in your hand, breaths soft as his loud voice drowned out the silence. Finishing up cleaning the countertop, you stepped down and on to the man floor before moving toward him. “It’s enjoyable? Being a gangster?” You asked him softly, hip brushing his lightly as you leaned over the table he was cleaning to retrieve empty beer bottles that were left behind. “Mh, it’s stressful, but enjoyable.” He smiled, ocean-colored eyes falling on the shimmering depth of your own. “Everything in life is stressful.” You broke eye contact to move around him and tuck the bottles away in the basin. His eyes followed. “Not everything.” He pointed out. You, curious to know what he could find that wouldn’t be stressful, turned to face him. The pair of you were at least four feet apart. You folded your arms and sent him a challenging look. “Okay, name something that isn’t stressful.” Alfie straightened before briefly directing his eyes to the ceiling, thinking. “Music?” He offered. “That’s an opinion.” You pointed out. “Some people don’t like certain sounds and that can irritate them.” The man grunted before squinting. “Food?” He chuckled. You shook your head. “Food makes me think of weight. Next.” Alfie scratched the back of his head. “Kissing.” He’d said it so seriously, your ears twitched from the sound. “Are you kidding?” Pushing yourself off of the wall, you moved toward him to grasp the rag from his hand and continue with the cleaning. “It is stressful. You’ve got to think about what kind of kiss your partners going to do, how long, are you good enough.” You tugged on the rag gently again, but he didn’t release it.

“Kissing isn’t meant to be stressful, pet. What the hell are you on about, right, you’ve been kissing the wrong people, a kiss is natural, you just, yeah, fucking go with the flow.” You laid a hand on your hip, tugging once more on the rag, but he tugged harder and you, not expecting it, stumbled forward and toward him. Frowning at his little game, you pushed him. “I’ve had enjoyable kisses, Alfie, I’m just saying, the moment leading up to them is very stressful.” Alfie arched a brow. Staring down at you, he licked his lips slowly before smirking. “You seem stressed.” He pointed out. “Is that because you’re thinking of kissing me?” He took a small step toward you and you fixed him with a look of surprise. “Oh god, Alfie.” The stress you’d felt seemed to double up and fade simultaneously. You weren’t sure how to feel. Was he about to kiss you? Right now? He wanted to obviously? Didn’t he? He brought it up. You backed up slightly, but when your leg hit the back of a chair and you nearly fell over, he caught you smoothly. His large hand slid to your lower back and he’d pulled you into him, breaths soft. “Do you want me to kiss you?” He’d asked and you’d froze. How was this not stressful! You swallowed quietly, ignoring the burn in your chest. Yes. You did. You very much did want him to kiss you. “Do you want to kiss me?” You turned the situation around so the decision was up to him. He’d answered by doing just that. Closing the space between the pair of you, he had to lean down and you leaned up on your tiptoes. Well. Maybe the actual kiss wasn’t that stressful. Or maybe Alfie was just an amazing kisser and you couldn’t focus on anything apart from that. Your small hand held the back of his neck, clutching on to him securely as your mouth moved shyly and curiously against his own. Alfie’s hands were gliding along your body and when they’d fallen to your ass, you’d jerked back in surprise, a deep blush on your cheeks. He went to pull them away, mouth opening to apologize, but you’d resumed the kiss and reached back to hold his hands in place. What the fuck was this man doing to you? He lifted you up and on to one of the tables that hadn’t been cleaned yet. Your legs parted widely, letting him step between your thighs so he could get as close as physically possible.

—————

The door to the bathroom opened with a click and you sat up hurriedly. Your breaths were shallow and heavy, hand sliding along the side of your neck shyly. The color on your chest matched the color in your cheeks and you felt guilty for some reason, like you’d been caught thinking of some filthy scenario, but you’d simiply been caught, by Cyril, thinking of Alfie. “Scared the shit out of me.” You moaned softly to the animal, not looking toward him more than the one time. “Where’s Alfie, mh? Go on, go get him.” Cyril sat down beside the tub, staring at you, though you still didn’t look toward him. You were busying yourself with washing up. “Go get daddy, Cyril.” You finally lifted your gaze. The pup sat, tongue hanging out of his mouth and one paw resting on the side of the tub. Clinging to his collar, was a chain. Alfie had looped an old unused chain through a loop in the pup’s collar and on the chain, attached, was a beautiful diamond ring. Your wet hand lifted, moving to grasp ahold of the beautiful jewelry. You cupped it as it dangled, studying it in question. “Oh my god.” You whispered breathily, scrutinizing the diamond. This was far too expensive. Was Alfie kidding? You would’ve like to think the diamond was fake, but Alfie had a knack when it came to jewels and this one was definitely real. “Fuck me.” You sighed before slowly unwounding the chain from the dog so you could inspect the ring more closely. Rising from the bath only seconds later, you climbed out, body soaking wet. “Alfie!” You shouted, not bothering to grab a towel or anything. The water droplets raced along your skin, sliding along the length of your form without a care in the world. “Alfie Solomons!” Cyril barked, following along close behind. You were careful not to slip on the stairs as you climbed down them almost angrily. “Alfie!” You tried again.

In the living room, Alfie was sat on the armchair, newspaper clutched in his hands as he pretended to be very invested in the stories. His eyes didn’t lift when he heard you calling his name, he instead continued to ‘read.’ You turned the corner sharply and when your eyes fell on him, you began to cry. It wasn’t an ugly sob or an overdramatic display of affection, but you cried. Your eyes watered visibly and when you blinked, the tears ran along your cheeks, similar to the water that continued to run down your body, creating a puddle of water on the floor which Cyril happily licked up. “Alfie.” You whispered. This time, he did look. You stood in the doorway, one hand on your hip and the other dangling by your side, clutching on to the chain which carried the engagement ring. Smirking lazily, he moved to stand, but you crossed the room in an instant. Your small body scrambled to be on top of his own, crushing the newspaper. Your arms wound around his neck, greedy lips pressing against your fiancé’s. His arms locked around you in a tight embrace, holding you against him as he cuddled you, lips moving continuously against your own. You wanted to kiss him until you suffocated, but the itch in your lungs was too unbareable so you pulled back. The man beneath you cleared his throat. Though he couldn’t get down on one knee, he didn’t think you’d mind. “Will you..” his eyes fell to the ring. “Will I What?” You whispered, playfully nibbling on your bottom lip. You watched him swallow harshly before he placed his hands on your hips. It took him a moment, a lingering moment, before he did finally ask the question. You knew it was had for him and you didn’t mind the wait. “Marry me, pet. Yeah, right, I want to fucking spend the rest of my life with you, so,” he hesitated again. “will you marry me?” You unclasped the chain and slid the ring off before smoothly slipping it on to your finger. It was a very nice fit. Not too snug and not loose at all. Your small hands, new jewel glimmering, lifted to his cheeks. “Oh, god, Alfie, I promise I’m going to make you so so happy.” You whispered before moving your head to his. “You already have, pet.” He whispered. “You already fucking have.”

He didn’t budge from his position, holding you against him, almost protectively and when your naked body began to shake from the cold, he’d wrapped you in the blanket that was draped over the sofa. His clothes were wet because of you, but they would dry, and his thumbs were slightly sticky from wiping away your tears, but overall, this went way, way better than he could’ve ever imagined. He was sure you had a different scenario in your head, but he’d surprised you. He’d 100% caught you off guard and that was really what he wanted to do. Your body curled up closer to his, breaths deepening as you studied the jewel. Cyril laid down on the floor on top of Alfie’s boot-covered feet. This was your little family and one day the two of you would expand it. Your lips pressed to Alfie’s neck softly, snuggling up. You hadn’t known, two years ago, that things would turn out he way they did, but god you were thankful. This was everything you could’ve asked for and life would only get better from here.

—————————————————————

Tagged: @thatsamegirl @peakyhoegh @ihclipse @callisen @hardygal69 @centerhabit @favouritereadings @goodiesintheclosetlove @buckypetal15 @kitcatimpala67 @captstefanbrandt @meer0rauschen @crldrr

HI ALOT OF MY REQUESTS ARE GONE FROM MY INBOX SO I CANT SEE WHO REQUESTED WHAT. IF YOU REQUESTED THIS ( NOT ON ANON ) LET ME KNOW AN ILL TAG YOU IN IT IM SORRY. THIS HAPPEN TO LIKE 15 OTHER FICS.

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torialeysha · 6 years

Text

Lunchtime

A/N - Firstly I want to apologise for the delay in part 4 of Cold Feet. I know I said I’d get it up over the weekend but I went to London Film and Comic Con and ran out of time. So instead of rushing to get it up and posting something I wasn’t 100% happy with I thought I’d try to make it up to you guys with a little Pre-Cold Feet Drabble of how Alfie asked for the readers hand in marriage.

It was lunchtime. You’re favourite time of day, you only get an hours break and you don’t like to waste a single minute of it. You skip hurriedly along the route you know too well. Across the bridge and down the stairs that leads to the canal. Your bag swinging heavily with the weight of 2 lunches. You see your destination. The bakery is alive with a thrum of activity. As you get nearer, the anticipation and excitement of seeing your lover causes your blood to heat. You waste no time weaving in and out of the obstacles in the chaotic yard of the bakery. Workers carrying in crates and barrels, greeting you by name as you glide by.

You’re through the doors and nearly there, your feet picking up pace as you hum a tune merrily yourself.

“Afternoon Ollie.” You greet cheerfully as you pass him. “Wait Y/N” he catches up to you, you frown as he causes you to slow your pace. “I wouldn’t go in there today.” Your furrowed brow turns from annoyed to questioning.

“He’s got company and he’s not in a good mood. He’s given me strict orders that he’s not to be disturbed.” As you near Alfie’s office door. You can hear His booming voice loud and irate through the walls. You feel sorry for whoever’s on the receiving end of his tirade.

You take a moment contemplating the idea of not disturbing Alfie. The disappointment of not seeing him all day makes up your mind.

“Leave him to me.” You assure Ollie. “I’ll cheer him up.” You smile skipping the last few steps to Alfies office door, grabbing the handle to twist it open. Ollie stops you by placing his hand over yours. You narrow your eyes at him. “I can’t let you go in there Y/N. It’s gonna be me who’s gets it in the neck later. I’m already walking on a thin line apparently.” He mutters sarcastically.

You roll your eyes at his overreaction. Knowing Alfie’s rules don’t apply to you. “It’s fine Ollie, he’s expecting me. Plus I’ll put in a good word for you. Make him forget that thin line you’re on.” You try bargaining as your hand tries the handle, struggling to twist it against Ollies grip. “Let go Ollie.” You ask the hint of annoyance now tainting your usual soft voice.

He shakes his head. You sigh letting go of the handle, leaving Ollies fixed there as he breathes a sigh of relief. However you’re not one to be defeated. You place both of your hands around Ollies and the handle and squeeze tightly trying to turn it at the same time. Hoping the pressure will cause him to let go. He yelps but still doesn’t budge. “For God sake Ollie.” You both start bickering, your hands still attached to the door handle. Stopping abruptly when you feel it twist between your hands on its own accord. The door opens forcefully pushing you both backwards. You steady yourself letting go of the door handle, releasing Ollies hand also, He cries out waving it around frantically as if it’s on fire. You shake your head at his dramatics.

“What the fuck is going on out here?” You both look to the doorway where Alfie now stands, frowning at the both of you. Your heart does it’s usual and skips a beat at the sight of him.

“Sorry Boss I tried to stop-“ Alfie cuts Ollie of mid sentence.

“You’re late.” He addresses you ignoring Ollie.

You look to Ollie smugly, an ‘I told you so’ smile gracing your lips. You knew Alfie would have been waiting for you, expecting you like he does every day. “Sorry my love.... I got held up on the way in.” You try to explain, not mentioning no names. Alfie clocks on despite your discretion, the culprit red and embarrassed next to you, clutching his ‘injured’ hand.

“Oh, so her tardiness is your fault lad?” He looks at Ollie unimpressed.

“But Boss...You said.” Ollie argues, his palms raised upwards in confusion.

“I know what I fucking said. But what I didn’t fucking say was that includes Y/N as well.” He answers through gritted teeth. Ollie was right About Alfie’s mood.

“he’s just following your orders Alfie.” You stick up for Ollie even though he’s caused you to lose minutes of precious time together.

“Yeah well he’s been here long enough to know that you’re a fucking exception, alright.” His eyes are still on Ollies “You’re walking a very, very thin line lad.” His eyes narrow tightly as he points at Ollie.

Taking pity on him under the heated gaze of Alfies angry stare. You interrupt putting a hand softly on Alfie’s pointed hand. The little spark your touch illicits causes Alfie’s head to snap to yours. He grunts softly as you kiss him on the cheek, an attempt to sweeten his sour mood. “Let’s not waste anymore time, My love.” You hold his hand tenderly in your own.

“Ollie, thank you for escorting me. You’re such a gentleman.” You lie, wanting Alfie to go easy on him later. You waltz past Alfie letting go of his hand, leaving him in the doorway still starring daggers at Ollie. You hear Alfie whisper something but you couldn’t make it out.

“Afternoon chaps.” You acknowledge the three men Alfie was shouting at.

“Afternoon Miss.” they answer in a somber chorus.

“Right, everyone fuck off! Go on, out my office. This is my time now.” Alfie shouts, his presence overpowering in the confined space of his office. You plonk your bag and your bum on Alfie’s desk, watching him, watching you. The heat of his gaze has you biting on your bottom lip.

“But Mr. Solomon’s. When is this going to get sorted.” One of the men whines. You see the flash of irritation flicker across Alfie’s face as he breaks eye contact with you, moving to push the hesitant body out the door.

“Now that lad, I don’t know. But I’ll tell you what I do know, right. The longer you keep me from my girl, the harder I’ll come down on you all later. Now you all know, that 1 o’clock until 2 o’clock is lunchtime. My time. Now piss off.” He slams the door behind them.

You smile shyly your belly alive with the fluttering wings of imaginary butterflies. You loved that he made you a priority.

You’re now both finally alone. He turns looking at you, not moving. His hands stuffed in his pockets casually. Hating the space between you, you beckon to him with a finger slowly and seductively. He smiles tightly, removing a hand from his pocket to rub at his beard as he walks a painfully slow pace towards you. You narrow your eyes at him, his body is tense. His eyes distant as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders, knowing Alfie it probably was.

He finally makes it to you. You uncross your legs to make room for him to stand in front of you.

“I’ve missed you.” You admit suddenly, then regret it,. Not wanting to sound too needy considering you only saw him yesterday.

“Good.” He strokes your cheek with the back of his fingers, his rings cool against your soft feverish skin.

you look up at him but he’s not with you, his eyes still distant, off somewhere else. Concern fills you as you ask him what’s wrong.

“Just work sweetie. Nothing for you to worry your pretty head about.”

“Well maybe I can help take your mind off it?” You wrap your legs around his waist, he grunts in approval. Twisting his hand in your waist length curly hair he pulls lightly on the locks, your head tilting back so he has better access to your mouth. You lick your lips in anticipation, waiting for him to kiss you, but he doesn’t, instead leaning into your ear “Before we get carried away. I need you to do something for me.” He pulls away from you, his hand unraveling from your hair. “How can I be of assistance Mr. Solomons.” Intrigued you play along, your eyes twinkling mischievously.

“I need you to type something up for me.” He moves from you to grab the typewriter from its home on the sideboard, placing it on his desk in front of his chair.

“Oh.” Your face drops. “Type something?...Alfie, I only have half hour left before I’ve got to get back.” You pout, your voice high pitched and whiney. You had other ideas of how you wanted to spend the next 30 minutes.

“It won’t take long. And it will be good practise for you won’t it?”

You sigh, he’s right about that. You were going to secretarial school twice a week and falling behind because of spending more time with Alfie. “Oh, alright. But make it short and sweet.” You get up from the desk to sit in Alfie’s chair. You make yourself comfortable, your dainty digits hovering over the letters of the typewriter.

Alfie starts pacing his office slowly. “Ready?” He asks. You nod. “Nice and comfy?” He adds, you realise he’s stalling.

“Yes Alfie.” You roll your eyes. “Hurry up.”

You can’t help but think something’s a little off.

“Dear Y/N Y/L/N” He begins.

You just get through typing the word ‘Dear’ when you stop. “Me?” You look up from the typewriter to Alfie confused.

“Yes, you.” He states matter of factly.

“Why are you writing a letter to me?” You look at him bewildered.

“Just keep on typing woman and you’ll find out.” Frustration is creeping into his voice.

You frown. He clears his throat and continues.

“I’ve been tempted many a time...”

“Hold on Alfie, I’m still typing my name.” You interrupt him, struggling to concentrate, your mind busy trying to work out what Alfie’s playing at.

“Oh for crying out loud. What are they teaching at that school? Not a lot by the looks of it.” The frustration is now thick in his voice as he marches over to you. “Let me do it. Try and be romantic and this is the thanks you get.” He mumbles shaking his head. “Come on, get up.” You jump out of his chair, fixing him with an annoyed stare, folding your arms like a petulant child.

“If you want something done right you’ve got to do it yourself.” He moans. Settling down into his chair he places his glasses on his nose. “Now where was I?” He asks himself, but you answer “something about being tempted.” You mutter suppressing a yawn.

“Ah, that’s right.” He begins typing, pressing one letter at a time - you roll your eyes, you’ll be here all day at this rate. Slumping down in the chair facing him you watch him type, stopping and starting, his forehead creasing in deep thought and concentration. You puff out a big sigh when he finally finishes. 15 minutes left to spare. Pulling the paper out of the typewriter he adds his signature and hands it to you.

“Read.” He commands

You stand, leaning over the desk, snatching it from his grasp irritably, noticing the slight shake of the paper in his hands. Alfie shaking? Surely not. Must be your imagination. He temples his fingers in front of his mouth, his elbows leaning on the desk in front of him. You start reading aloud your voice bland and lacking enthusiasm.

Dear Y/N Y/L/N,

I have been tempted many a time to confide in you a secret which lies buried deep in my heart which can no longer be kept under control. My feelings have grown stronger, far stronger than a respectful regard and admiration. Please forgive me for asking you in this manner but I have written this letter to you in fear of my inability to express myself adequately to you in person, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. So far I have restrained myself because I wanted to be worthy of your love before asking for it from you. As you are aware I am not a patient man and now I am afraid I cannot wait any longer to show you how I truly feel. So I ask you this question.

Marry me?

Regardless of your answer, I am forever yours.

Alfie Solomons.

You stand there stunned. Completely speechless. You re-read the letter, silently this time. Your eyes scanning the page trying to take it all in. You swallow hard as your hands begin to tremble.

‘Marry me?’

The words finally sink in. You look up at Alfie who is silently assessing you. You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

“Now, I know people normally do these things by asking in person and getting down on one knee. But I wrote it down because as you know I have trouble articulating my feelings. And I didn’t want to say something stupid and fuck it up.” He explains himself looking at the floor shyly. “But the truth is, I fucking love you, right. And I can’t imagine my life without you...So what do you say?” His eyes meet yours.

“Y-you want to marry me?” You manage to get the words out this time.

“Mmhmm.” He grunts, nodding his head. His searching gaze trying trying to gauge your feelings.

You look back at the letter. The beautiful words finally sinking in. Still in shock you forget that you’ve left Alfie hanging.

“It was a stupid idea forget I-“ He begins but you cut him off.

“Yes.” You answer.

“Yes?” Alfie repeats the answer back to you as a question.

“Yes, Alfie. I’ll marry you.” You smile from ear to ear as you let out an excited giggle. He closes the distance between you in 3 easy strides cupping your face in both hands, kissing you hard on the lips. “Alfie, my letter.” You pull away frightened that the precious piece of paper would be crushed between you.

“I’m going to get you a proper ring, alright but I didn’t want to jump the gun and jinx it by buying one before I knew your answer. So for now, this will have to do.” He pulls a gold ruby ring from his pinky finger and slides it on to your wedding finger. You wonder why he would even doubt that your answer would be anything other than yes.

“It’s perfect Alfie.” You gaze down at your hand the red stone burning brightly on your finger, just like your love for the man in front of you. Your heart swells with joy and pride as you test out your soon to be new name. “Mrs. Y/N Solomon’s.”

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons #tom hardy #tom hardy imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #alfie solomons fanfiction #cold feet #alfie solomons imagine #steven knight

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lola--james · 3 years

Text

Wedding Night | | Lollie

WHEN: Post wedding reception, 4 February 2021

LOCATION: Honeymoon suite

NB: After their wedding, Lola and Ollie spend their first night together as husband + wife in the honeymoon suite. Note: this is an ongoing chatzy which will be updated as we go.

Lola finally understood why people called their wedding the very best day of their life. Marrying the love of her life in a beautiful venue whilst surrounded by all of their nearest and dearest, whilst also feeling the most beautiful that she had ever felt, had culminated in a perfect day; one that she would never forget. After dancing the night away and celebrating with all of their loved ones, she and her /husband/ were finally ready to retreat to the honeymoon suite for the first time. Her shoes were in her hand as they approached the room, her cheeks were lightly flushed from the dancing, her dimples were out in full force as she hadn't stopped smiling all day and she was just truly, indescribably happy. "God, what a night", Lola said happily as Ollie grabbed the room key from his pocket. "This was seriously the best day ever, Mr James".

Ollie found himself being in a blissful haze all day. The day that he thought he'd never see, the /biggest/ moment in his life came and went. If anyone were to ask him just a year ago if he thought that he would ever see the day where he'd get married, he would simply just laugh in their face and shrug the thought away. The same man that deemed himself to be so unlovable, had now dedicated his entire life to the person that met the most to him. After dancing the night away with his beautiful bride, and spending the best day of his life surrounded by some of the people that loved him the most, the night had sadly been coming to an end. By his point, his bow tie had come completely undone, sitting nicely on the collar of his button down as he held his suit jacket in his hand. Smiling at his wife, he grabbed the room key out of his jacket. "Who says it's over, Mrs. James." With a warm and amused grin, he subtly bent down, wrapping one arm around her waist and the other around her legs and picked the petite girl up bridal style. He kicked the door open gently and walked the two into the fancy honeymoon suite; finding himself being in awe by house nice the huge room had been. He placed his wife down on the bed, placing one hand on either side of her on the bed before leaning down and pressing his lips against hers. "Is today everything you wanted it to be?"

Lola let out a delighted laugh as Ollie scooped her up and carried her over the threshold into the honeymoon suite in traditional bridal style. As he placed her gently on the bed, she looked up at him adoringly; never having loved anyone so completely and wholeheartedly before. Ollie really was the best part of her life and the fact that they had just promised each other /forever/ in front of all their friends... well, it was a day that she would never forget. "It was better than my wildest dreams, my love. Marrying you is the best decision that I've ever made and today was even more beautiful than I ever imagined", she murmured, happy tears pricking at her eyes. "How are you feeling? No regrets?"

Ollie knew he would never get used to the way Lola looked at him. A look full of such adoration, as if he really was the only one for her. It was a look that never failed to make him weak in the knees. The same look that made him realize that this was his life now; that after years of not having a family, he had somehow managed to find one with his best friend. “I could never regret you.” Ollie whispered. “If anything, I should be asking /you/ if you have any regrets.” He said a bit louder, a light chuckle immediately following his words. “I have the most beautiful bride and I’ve never been happier. I can’t believe this is my life now...that /you’re/ my life now. You’re my family, Mrs. James.”

Years ago, Lola had realised that the friends that she had made at MU had become her family; and that they would be the people that stayed by her side no matter what, which was the acceptance and love that she had been searching for since her father died. Meeting and falling in love with Ollie, though, was something else entirely. He was her person. No one made her happier and she knew -- without a shadow of a doubt -- that she would spend the rest of her life with him. He was her best friend, her "roommate", her husband and if they ever decided that they wanted to have children, he would be the father of her children too. "No regrets, Oliver James, not even one. I haven't regretted anything since the day that I met you, even the low points, because it led us here and this is exactly what I needed and wanted", she responded, pressing her lips against his and kissing him; hoping to convey the depth of her feelings. "You're my family too, Mr James", she repeated. "A lot of people say that after their wedding, they just want to crash for the night because it's been so exhausting so I guess my next question is this... do you want to go to sleep or do you want to see my wedding lingerie?"

Ollie had no doubt that Lola knew him better than anyone. From the moment the two met, she understood him in ways that he couldn’t ever explain. As someone who always kept his guard up, the wall that he had spent his entire childhood building had always come crumbling down when it came to her. She made him feel /safe/; a feeling that he hasn’t had since he was a young boy, since before his parents died. And just when he thought he couldn’t possibly love her any more, each day he was brought by surprise — especially this day. He kissed her back easily, each and every emotion he could possibly feel being poured into the simple gesture. “Good...because I wasn’t going down without a fight.” He finally responded to her statement, giving her an assuring smile. “The night is just getting started. And to be honest...I just want to feel and be close to you.” He said in a soft tone, his vulnerability beginning to shine through. “So definitely the lingerie.”

Lola still had to pinch herself sometimes as she really couldn't believe that this was her life. After everything that had happened in her past, she hadn't thought that she deserved this kind of life. Lola had genuinely believed that she'd end up alone, until Ollie walked into her life and turned everything upside down in the best possible way. "You've got my heart, Ollie. You've already won me", she murmured in response. She noted the hint of vulnerability in her tone and she understood why it was there -- it was a big deal for two people with past trauma and attachment issues to form a healthy relationship and be brave enough to make such a serious commitment so she felt similarly herself. "I want to be close to you too. This is the first night that we're spending together as husband and wife so I want it to be special, to be memorable". She got to her feet and stood in front of him, her back facing him. "Can you please undo the dress so that I can go and get changed?" she asked quietly. Once he had done so, she disappeared to the bathroom for a few minutes to freshen up and change into the lingerie before walking back into the suite again. "Happy wedding day, Mr James".

“And I need you to know that I’m never going to take that for granted...that I’m never going to take /you/ for granted. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Ollie continued to speak softly and quietly. As scared as he was to mess up the best thing that ever happened to him, he was also confident of his ability to care for his bride. There wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do for the woman sitting right before him. He would do whatever it took to protect her and make her happy, and he would do it happily as he loved her more than anyone. He smiled at her as she stood up and turned around, nodding his head at her request. His hands fiddled with the zipper and corset part of the dress, focused as he began unlacing the dress. “I can see why most couples just go to bed after...there is no way a drunk groom can manage to get these damn dresses off.” He joked lightly as he finished up undoing the, carefully helping her step out of the dress before tossing it onto the bed. Out of habit, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on her shoulder. “Lola James...if I would’ve known how great it felt to say that, I would’ve tied you down a long time ago.” He chuckled softly before letting her go to the bathroom. Ollie untucked his shirt and began unbuttoning it and removing that along with his undershirt and tossing it onto the loveseat nearby. He picked up his wife’s dress, smoothing it over with his hands before neatly hanging it onto a hanger and hanging it up in the hotel closet. He had just finishing unbuckling his belt when he heard Lola’s voice, his head shooting up and his hands dropping to his side. “Wow...you’re so beautiful.” He said sincerely, looking at his wife with adoring and loving eyes as he walked up to her. “Happy wedding day, Mrs. James.” He said with a smile, bringing his hands up to her face and pulling her in for a deep, passionate kiss.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me too, I fully intend to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you can possibly be". The two of them really had built something special and she would never take that for granted either. She laughed softly at his joke as he undid her dress. "I know, Addison really struggled to get me into this thing and she'd only had one glass of champagne but I think it was worth it, I've never felt prettier", she said, smiling as he pressed a gentle kiss against her shoulder. "It /does/ sound goo. I think that I'm going to drive people insane by insisting that they call me by my full name now", she joked before making her way into the bathroom. When she re-emerged dressed in her lingerie, her face was warmed by a genuine smile; touched at the fact that Ollie had neatly hung up her wedding dress whilst she was gone. "You look amazing too, I'm so lucky", she said as he walked over to her. "I love you", she murmured before his lips found hers, all conversation suddenly ending as she was more focused on kissing her husband.

“You already do that. I’m the happiest man alive whenever I’m with you.” Ollie spoke in a quiet, gentle tone. “The most beautiful bride I’ve ever laid my eyes on, that’s for sure.” He complimented with a smile. There had been something different, more special about this one kiss. A gesture that the two shared more than Ollie could possibly count, and yet the man could easily distinguish this one kiss from all the others they’ve shared. This was soft, gentle, tender even — and yet it still contained the fire and passion the two evidently exhibited towards each other preceding sex. It was just.../different/ for him, and he loved it. He further deepened the kiss, his tongue practically begging for an entrance as he kissed his wife deeply and slowly. Not breaking the kiss for one moment, he snaked an arm around her waist and gently lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his torso as he walked them over to the king sized bed. Feeling the edge of the bed on the shin of his legs, he broke the kiss for one moment to gently place his wife down onto the mattress; watching her dark locks spread out evenly onto the pillows and finding himself admiring the view. Ollie unbuttoned his slacks and felt them drop to his ankles, quickly stepping out of them before climbing onto the bed, his body resting perfectly between her legs. His lips immediately found hers once more, kissing her with the same amount of tenderness, with a hint of passion in the mix.

"We really have become that emotional, corny couple but I really wouldn't have us any other way. I love you and I love us", Lola responded. "I'm glad because it would be very awkward if you turned around and said that I didn't quite take out that top spot", she teased. Lola had always loved kissing Ollie but there was something special about this one; it hinted at their love and adoration for each other and the commitment that they had made to each other. She parted her lips, wordlessly giving him permission to deepen the kiss; their tongues tangled together as he picked her up, the brunette instinctively wrapping her legs around his torso as he carried them over to the bed. Ollie broke the kiss to gently place her on the bed and she gazed up at him as he unbuttoned his slacks, her cheeks heating slightly as she noticed the way that he was staring at her. She had never felt more attractive or desired than when she was with Ollie, which had certainly escalated their physical relationship to new heights. As he climbed onto the bed, she wrapped her legs around his torso again; her lips eagerly meeting his.

Ollie simply smiled at her comments. Despite the two having quite a busy and hectic night, he felt at peace in this very moment. It was just him and his wife, and he couldn’t possibly find anything more perfect than this. He pressed his middle down against hers as she wrapped her legs around his waist, his tongue dancing with hers as he kissed her feverishly. His hands ran teasingly up her body, appreciating each and every one of her curves as his fingers grazed over the thin and lacey material of her lingerie. The man’s teeth gently sunk into the girls lower lip, pulling it as he broke the kiss. “I love you.” He whispered against her lips as his dark eyes gazed into hers momentarily. Ollie began undoing the material of her undergarment slowly, his lips following and leaving a trail of light kisses as he exposed her beautiful skin inch by inch. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life making you feel like this. You’re the only one for me, baby.” He whispered, each word being punctuated by a gentle kiss, his lips never leaving her body as they continued to travel south. Sitting up, he hooked his fingers around the lacey material and slowly pulled them down her legs, taking these few short moments to soak how beautiful his wife looked as she laid there naked in front of him. During the process, he also doffed his boxers, his growing cock springing out as he removed the last piece of material separating the two from each other.

The two of them had slept together that morning before the wedding but the difference between the two encounters was immediately obvious. This morning was all heat -- passionate, dirty, rough. Tonight was something else entirely. There was still passion, obviously, but it was gentle and sensuous; like the two of them were taking the time to truly enjoy each other after committing to spend the rest of their lives together. She moaned quietly into the kiss as his fingers danced over her curves and his teeth gently bit her bottom lip, tugging it slightly as he pulled away. "I love you too", she said softly, her eyes on him as he expertly undid her lingerie; carefully unwrapping her like she was the best present she had ever received. "I'm glad to hear it, otherwise we definitely just made a mistake by getting married", she lightly teased as he removed her lingerie entirely; leaving her naked and spread out on the bed; his for the taking. "You're beautiful, I'm so lucky to have you", she told him as he removed the last of his clothes too, the brunette's eyes trailing over his body; lingering on his growing erection. "Come here", she beckoned, wanting his body on hers again; filled with a pressing desire to kiss him like there was nothing else in the world that really mattered.

#chatzy #c: ollie #mu: lolliegetshitched

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cactiem · 7 years

Text

i owe you one | o.q

Pairing: Oliver Queen x Reader

Requested: @taliajromanoff

Summary: You help out team Arrow even though it could result in you losing your job. In return Oliver owes you one.

GIF Not Mine

Being apart of team Arrow meant risking your life, your job, and any potential future relationships. While you weren't a fully fledged member of team Arrow you helped out occasionally due to your friendship with Felicity. You and Felicity had been friends for a while because of her job at Queen consolidated where you met and hit it off. You were a computer geek just like her but you also are good at designing and creating future tech which is what your job is now. That's another difference between you and team Arrow is that you have a job which didn't allow you to be down in the bunker helping every night.

The moment you found out Felicity knew the Green Arrow and became a member of the team was when she turned up at your apartment one night with an injured Oliver Queen, who at the time you didn't know he was the Green Arrow. Felicity came to your apartment because Oliver was injured with some technology inside him that could kill him if it wasn't removed. They came to you because you helped design it ages ago and hoped you could help which you did. You successfully removed the technology inside of Oliver and saved his life. Both Felicity and Diggle were thankful that you helped save him however Oliver at first wasn't due to you finding out him being the Green Arrow but soon came around and was just as thankful as Felicity and Diggle, maybe even more.

After work you had some free time so you decided to go to the bunker and help out Felicity with whatever lead they had on Prometheus. You were at the computers typing in sync with Felicity when she stopped and turned to face you like she had something to ask you. "Felicity, if there is something you need to ask me just ask." You told her, your attention still fully on your computer.

"So you know that prototype you're working on at the moment, with the-"

"With the ability to detect and recognise a certain persons body heat. Yeah, what about it?" You finished her sentence and turned to at her.

"I was wondering if we could borrow it?" Felicity asked.

"Sorry, no can do." You shook your head and turned back to the computer to focus back on what you were doing. Felicity however turned her seat around so she was facing Oliver now and mouthed to him to ask her himself hoping he could persuade you to change your mind. Both her and Diggle could tell that you liked Oliver and he liked you but it was left unspoken between the two of you. They have tried to get the two of you to admit your feelings to one another but they were both shot down. You saying 'he doesn't like me like that' and him saying 'it's too dangerous. Besides she doesn't like me like that.'

"Hey, Y/N." Oliver said. He was crouching so he was eye level with you.

"Hey." You replied, stopping what you were doing to give your full attention to Oliver.

"About the prototype." You groaned when he started. "It would really help if we could borrow it. I know you could get into trouble at work and I normally wouldn't ask this much from you unless it was really important. This could help us find Adrian Chase and stop him once and for all." You sighed, how could you say no to Oliver Queen. Damn him and his perfect face you thought.

"Okay, fine. I'll get it you. What's the worse my boss can do anyway?" You laughed.

"Thank you, Y/N. I owe you one. How about dinner?"

"Okay, yeah. Dinner it is." You smiled and went back to your computer.

You got the prototype for Oliver and they used to it catch Adrian Chase. He was now locked up and can't hurt anyone else. Now he's locked up Oliver finally asked you to the dinner he owed you, even though it was in his office but you didn't mind. He ordered Chinese takeout from your favourite place and you were both sitting on his couch in his office eating your dinner when he finally brought up what was on his mind. "So when were you going to tell me you got fired?" He asked you casually. You almost choked on your food when he asked so you put your food down on the table and had a swig of your drink.

"Erm... I wasn't. Besides how did you find out?" You questioned.

"That's not the point, Y/N. Why did you get fired? Was it because you helped us with the Adrian Chase thing by getting us that prototype?"

"No." You lied but Oliver glared at you seeing right through your lie. "Fine. Yes. Turns out the worse they can do is fire me, okay?"

"Y/N, you didn't have to help us if that meant you losing your job. We would have figured out another way to catch him that meant not risking your job." Oliver said. His tone was soft when he was around you. It brought a sense of comfort. You held Olivers clasped hands in yours and assured him.

"Look, Ollie does it suck I lost my job? Yeah. Am I going to miss the great salary and amazing equipment they had? Of course I am. But I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. You know why?" Oliver shook his head. "Because it was put to good use. It helped someone. It helped put the bad guy away. It saved lots of people's lives. I would rather be jobless than see people get hurt because I didn't help them. Besides now I can help the team more or start my own company. Who knows, the world is my oyster now." You laughed and Oliver laughed with you. You looked at Oliver and Oliver looked at you. He leant in to you and was inches away from your face. Looking at his lips you let all of your worries go and kissed him. He held the back of your neck and kissed you back.

You both separated from the kiss and grinned. You bit your lip as blush crept on your cheeks. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time." Oliver admitted.

"Me too." You grinned. You both sat in silence for a bit finishing your dinner until you realised something. "You do realise that you owe me big time now, right?" A cheeky smile formed on your lips.

"Is that so?"

#oliver queen imagine #oliver queen #oliver queen x reader #arrow imagine #arrow #the flash #legends of tomorrow #supergirl #arrowverse

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silveredglass · 7 years

Text

silent smile

A little Tomlinshaw drabble based on Sunday by Bloc Party.

@writsgrimmyblog asked for some Tomlinshaw song recs, and Sunday is Tomlinshaw all over and then I was thinking about it all and this happened.

Nick wakes up with his dog breathing on his face.

Except it’s not his dog. It’s fucking Louis Tomlinson with breath as bad as Pig. Which, well, in all of his day dreams and imaginings and fantasies about Louis Tomlinson, which have over the years been wide and very imaginative, Louis’ breath smelling like his dog’s has somehow never been a feature.

Nick rolls over onto his back and stares at his ceiling. A peaceful light baby blue, almost white. Aimee had said it’d help him feel rested and refreshed. This morning for some reason it seems to be moving a little. He wonders if his house has somehow set sail during in the night. Maybe that’s why Louis is here, he’s a pirate who’s come to plunder the S.S Grimmy. Nick lets out a little huff of an almost laugh, Pirate Louis is a fantasy he’s had before.

“Shutsadup.”

Nick slides his eyes to his left, surely he’s not getting told off for not even managing to laugh when he’s laid in his own bed is he, “What?”

“Shutup.” More forcefully.

“I didn’t even speak.”

“You are fucking speaking. Not on the radio now you dick, no need to be talking so early.” Louis Tomlinson attempts to raise his head, presumably to shoot Nick one of those icy stares Nick likes to observe him shooting at other radio interviewers. Not that he watches a lot of Louis Tomlinson’s other radio interviews, but it’s important for Nick to keep up with what his competition is doing in Stoke-On-Trent and coincidentally Louis had done some sort of regional radio station tour when he released his single.

Louis seems only to be able to lift his head for a moment though, and then it’s bouncing a little awkwardly back down onto the mattress. Nick turns on his side again and grabs the corner of the pillow that’s above Louis’ head, “Lift up love,” he says softly and with a little moan Louis does.

Nick drags the pillow underneath his face, “There we go.” He says, mainly to himself, and flops back over on his back.

He lies still for a moment. His stomach feels a bit queasy, and he really needs to take a piss. He’ll have to get up. But there is a little cold thing touching the outside of his calf all of a sudden. Has to be the top of Louis’ feet. He must have his toes pointing down and the top of his feet slid right up against Nick’s calf.

Nick turns his head and looks, there is one blue eye looking right at him. One blue eye, a nostril and the corner of that awful wicked mouth, the rest of Louis’ face is down in the pillow.

“Heavy night hey.” Nick says, heart in his mouth.

Louis reaches out a hand and sort of pats at Nick’s chest, his finger tips are cold and he’s just rubbing them gently back and forth where the hair is on Nick’s sternum.

“Going to make me a tea Nick?” He asks. And Nick is.

Nick makes it to the bathroom, uses the main one, not his ensuite. He takes his piss and then he tries to clean his teeth, starts to dry retch while doing so, and has to wait and do it all again. When he finally makes it downstairs Emily must have taken the dogs out, as the house is blissfully silent.

Nick makes tea, slowly, and a bit of toast and puts it on a tray and goes back upstairs, slowly.

In his room Louis Tomlinson is propped up in bed, leaning back against every pillow Nick owns, his hair wet and mushed up and he’s staring at him almost impatiently.

“I had a shower, you’ve got to give me clothes, mine stink and I’ve lost ‘m phone I think.”

“Ok.” Nick says and goes to put the tray down on his dresser.

“Can bring me my cuppa first.” Louis allows, and so Nick does.

They eat the toast, halfheartedly, crumbs going everywhere and it’s mostly silent apart from the crunching. Nick thinks about what clothes to give Louis. Something good so Nick could make an excuse to see him again and get it back from him, or something old that he won’t miss because likelihood of it all is that after Louis leaves he’s not going to see him again until an album comes out or some such, and he’s hardly going to return a borrowed t-shirt live on the Radio One Breakfast Show is he.

He realises Louis is looking at him a long while after he must have started, feels a flush creep over his cheeks.

“You were funny last night.” Louis says.

Nick thinks he’s probably blushing properly now. “I’m not saying it was my best fucking work but that’s a bit rude.”

“Huh?”

“Last night, with you, anyway I don’t even, I mean how’d it start, what did we do?” Nick’s proper flustered.

“I meant on stage, doing the speeches and that.” Louis says, he looks a little pink now. “That other stuff was fine, I think,” Louis gives short laugh, “I was fucking ganted, don’t remember much.”

Nick swallows, “Oh, thanks.” He’s not sure what he’s saying thank you for; The being funny last night compliment or the rating of ‘fine’ in the bedroom. Both really, he guesses. Louis has a little bruise just above his collar bone and Nick thinks he probably put it there. Fucking hell, he would hook up with him and be so drunk he forgets most of it wouldn’t he.

“Know what this toast needs? Bit of bacon, eggs and beans, full English.”

“Sausage in the morning?” Nick can’t help himself.

And then the oddest thing happens, Louis Tomlinson raises one eyebrow and one side of his mouth in a little smirk and says, “Find me some bacon and maybe in the afternoon, Nicholas.”

Which, which. Which doesn’t sound like leaving.

“There’s a caff down the street a bit, want to go?”

“Got a hoodie or something, something a bit hidey?”

Nick does.

In the end he tells Louis to take whatever he likes clothes wise and goes to have a quick shower as well. He stands dripping in front of the mirror for a moment, blinks at himself and pokes the bags under his eyes, wonders if he could sneak some white eyeliner on without Louis noticing.

He clatters down the stairs and finds Louis in a very old Nike hoodie and some track pants Nick thinks he’s never seen before. He looks quite cuddly.

“You look cuddly,” he says, then immediately, “sorry I think I’m still a bit pissed.”

Louis makes a little huff, sort of incredulous sounding and stands up from the couch. While they walk to the café Nick offers him is phone in case he wants to call someone, find his own phone but Louis waves him away.

They sit with Louis facing in and Nick looking out the window. Nick orders fro them both and then they talk a little bit about the night before, the award Olly Murs received, why Louis paid so much for the week on the yacht he won in the auction, what he’s actually going to do with it.

“Give it away?”

“Yeah, I don’t know, I like to go and stay on land anyway and if I go to Spain and all I’m going to want to go dancing.”

“I love dancing.” Nick says absently.

“Yeah.” Louis agrees. And when Nick looks at him it’s that thing again, where it feels like Louis has been looking for a little while, Nick finds himself smiling a little. Then Louis says, “You’ve got some brown sauce by your mouth you know.”

Nick pays, Louis staying at their little table, but when he turns around from the counter Louis gets up and heads to the door quickly and as they leave Nick reaches over Louis and holds the door open for him.

It’s a mild outside, warm and it’s later in the day then Nick had thought. His stomach is all nerves again as he tries to think of what to say, how to not say goodbye, how to arrange to see Louis again.

“I want to go watch that.” Louis says with a tip of his head and Nick looks up, expects to see a movie poster or something on a bus going by but there’s nothing.

“See?”

Louis knocks him with his shoulder, “Them ones, playing footie.”

Nick stops, there’s a match over in the park, kid’s games. He can see the white with blue sash on one teams uniform. “Hampstead.” He says.

Louis smiles, unexpectedly happy, “How’d you know that?”

“No idea,” Nick grins back, “must’ve seen a local paper.”

Louis makes them stop at a coffee shop and get two more take away cups of tea before they cross into the park. And they have to sit down a fair distance away as there are a lot of younger people around, more chance of them spotting one of them. Of them spotting Louis.

They find a good bench though and right away Louis is next to him, right next to him. It’s easy it is, to lift his arm up along the back of the bench and Louis just gets in there, not pausing in his analysis of the match, no stop in his commentary about whether the girl with the black curls was offside when she took that pass. He just gets up against Nick and it’s really good.

Louis’ hands are flighty little things, and it’s almost a relief when he pulls out a cigarette and starts smoking. They still then, his hands, they have a purpose.

He doesn’t move away while he smokes, and Nick doesn’t ask him to.

After he flicks the butt of the cigarette away Louis settles in a little more, he’s got his head just sort of where Nick’s shoulder meets his chest and Nick’s glad it’s his right side because his heart is beating far too fast.

“You really thought I was funny then?”

“You were alright.” He can hear Louis is smiling.

“Do you,” Nick takes a breath, “do you remember?”

“Hmm, yeah, sort of. I don’t know, I came back to my table and you’d sat in my seat so I just sat on you.”

“Ohhh.”

Nick remembers it then. The sudden way Louis was just in his lap, a little unsteady when he first sat down so Nick had put a hand on his side, thumb grasping the soft back of his hip and fingers curving around to his front while he’d lent his other arm on the table, boxing Louis in.

But he hadn’t moved. He’d drunk his whole beer, twisted so he was half facing him and thrown his own arm over Nick’s shoulder. He’d said things loudly like, “Me and Grimmy here, we think you’re a right twat then Harry.”

Which hadn’t been true, Nick rarely thinks Harry is a twat, but Louis had said ‘we’ and the ‘we’ he meant was Nick and him and so Nick had stayed silent, his fingers still on Louis’ waist, tracing gentle circles with his finger tips on Louis’ stomach.

The table had seemed to clear out very quickly. All of a sudden it was just Nick and Louis and on the other side talking amongst themselves some men he thinks were from a label. People were still there, the room was full and loud, just the table was empty. And that’s when Louis had twisted properly and kissed him.

He’d done it so smoothly it was like he’d thought he was sitting on someone else’s lap, someone he kissed regularly, someone he had a pre-existing right to kiss. And he’d kept doing it, even as Nick had put the glass he was holding in his other hand down on the empty chair beside him and grabbed at Louis’ shoulder, his left-hand scrabbling over his stomach, making its way to grab onto the other side of Louis’ waist. He’d kissed him properly, pulling back a little and taking a sharp breath, and before Nick could open his eyes Louis’ mouth had been on his again, a little slick, a little demanding.

He was a wonderful proper weight on Nick’s lap, pressing his body up against him, Louis’ chest warm and solid against Nick’s own. Nick had pulled away, nosed at the scruff on Louis’ jaw and skimmed his teeth there. Louis had tipped his neck back, let him kiss down his throat a little at the same time as grasping at his shoulder. Gripping a little too hard, and twisting his whole body as if he was going to proper climb over him. And shit, Nick had gone from being taken aback to semi-hard in a matter of moments.

When Louis had pulled away a second time Nick had managed to blink up at him. The room was a bit dark, there was a flash of blue light from the dance floor and Louis’s lips were still pink and a little wet.

“We should go to yours,” he’d announced.

Nick had agreed.

It hadn’t worked. They’d been stopped, and they’d drunk more, they’d danced, in groups near each other, but not together. They’d had stupid wonderful conversations, once more separately, but all the time being aware of each other. A strange prickle at the back of Nick’s neck, a lot of odd too-long looks over the head of whoever he was talking with, until finally Nick had just gone up and thrown an arm around Louis said loudly, “Off for a smoke we are.” And just started to walk to the door.

“We didn’t do anything did we?”

“Nah. Well. We kissed.” Louis reaches across and pushes his balled-up fist against Nick’s thigh, “It was nice.”

“It was fine. It was nice.” Nick repeats, unimpressed.

“It was nice, ‘wanna do it again I think.”

“Oh.” Nick smiles. He brings his hand up and squeezes Louis’ shoulder.

There’s the noise of a whistle then and maybe that is time on the match, all the white-with-blue-sash jersey clad kids running to the sidelines.

“It’s good this.” Louis says.

“Yeah, good park, I bring the dogs..”

“Not the park, this.” And Louis butts at his chest with his head, then burrows a little in again.

And it is, good. Nice. Nick takes a sip of his tea. It’s gone cold.

But it is nice.

#tomlinshaw #tomlinshaw drabble #idek #a weekend in the city is still one of my top 13 albums of all time

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