#but man nobody ever expected him to just... go quietly

[meadowmines]

A few words about Nobuaki Chiba, Kijin Clan Lieutenant because he's a fun character and I love him:

He's about six foot even and built like a fridge and has a big square jaw and a butch cut and he's kind of loud and has a little bit of a dirty mind but nonetheless gives big Just A Guy energy. Definitely intimidating if you don't know him! Kind of intimidating if you do know him! But he's Just A Guy, for the most part! He likes beer and sportsball and greasy fried shit and chilling at bars with his buds and just Being A Guy!

Generally wears charcoal gray slacks and suit jacket with a purple shirt and no tie.

Actually swore up under OG Nishitani a couple years before the old man retired but as loyal a man as Kuroshi could ever want on his team.

Always chewing on a toothpick. He says he gnaws on toothpicks because he's trying to quit smoking. He says this with both a cigarette and the toothpick in his mouth.

He and Sugihara gently roast each other all the time. They have been mistaken for a couple at least once because of it. Chiba is 100% straight but does not take offense to this.

Is constantly trying to get Aoyagi laid despite having the whole ace thing explained to him multiple times by multiple people. He means well but this ain't it chief

this never changes. Aoyagi comes back to Sotenbori for OG Nishitani's funeral in 2009 and the second the service is over Chiba bodily drags him over to the Grand because it's what the old man woulda wanted

I have not nailed his irezumi down yet but Onamazu and particularly the part where it thrashes around and causes earthquakes when left unsupervised would be an amusing hint at the Chiba we see being the older, mellower version and that he was possibly somehow even rowdier in his youth than he is now

[synthetickitsune]

Bunny Troubles ✧ h.js

Pairing: Joshua Hong x reader (gn) Genre: fluff Summary: Who’d have thought a man like Joshua could turn into a puddle of misery on the whim of a little bunny? Word count: 1.9k Warnings: i never owned a bunny in my life so excuse any innacuracies for the sake of the plot A/N: this is once again @hanniedream's fault because ofc it is, because it always is

“Uhm, love?” you say shyly, quietly, trying hard to conceal your nervousness.

“Love? Is something wrong?” Joshua catches on immediately regardless of your efforts or the fact that he can’t even see you through the phone. You can only sigh.

You look at your friend for support from where she’s sitting with a bunny in her arms and she gives you a thumbs up before you step out into the hall and close the door behind you.

“What do you think about a week of bunny sitting? My friend is going on a vacation and her parents canceled on her last minute.”

“Say that again,” you can hear your boyfriend pause whatever he was doing.

“Shua, you heard me,” you groan, “She will give us everything we’ll need and she’ll bring the stuff over and help me bunny proof the place. It’s just the living room, so it doesn’t wake us up if it’s noisy in the night. She even made a little pamphlet with instructions and important information and the vet’s contact if anything happened.”

You can practically hear the way he holds back a sigh. Waiting for his answer, though, you already start to imagine the little fluffy creature hopping around your living room.

“What if it doesn’t like me?” he asks. That wasn’t really the concern you were expecting if you’re honest.

“Come again?” you deadpan.

“The meerkat on set didn’t like me either, what if I’m just cursed to be disliked by tiny animals,” there’s a pout in his voice, which is pretty much a sign of your victory.

“No no, my friend said it’s the cuddliest bunny she ever had and that it likes being handled,” you coo excitedly, “And the few times I came over it was really sweet and friendly. It cuddles with me today too.”

“But I’m meant to be your cuddly bunny,” Joshua grumbles very quietly on the other side of the phone.

“Baby I think I’ll need to start recording these calls,” you tease and chuckle when you hear your boyfriend whine some more. “Anyway, it’s just a week. Please? She really needs the help and nobody else is available.”

“You know I can never say no to you,” he sighs, “But I don’t want to hear a word of getting one for ourselves, yeah?”

“I promise,” you try to hide your excitement, “I love you. We’ll be waiting for you to come home.”

“I’m kicking it out if it doesn’t like me,” he warns you playfully before saying his goodbyes and hanging up.

“I’m home,” Joshua calls upon closing the front door behind him carefully, mindful of the creature whose presence is already noticeable by the little fence standing in the doorway of the living room.

“Welcome home,” you call back, your voice soft and clearly strained with emotions. He chuckles to himself, first making his way to the bedroom to change into something comfortable before joining you.

He secures the temporary precaution once he steps into the room and smiles again seeing you sitting by the cage with your hand at the door and the bunny sniffing your palm curiously.

“Getting friendly?” he teases, sitting down a good distance from you to avoid scaring the animal who’s already eyeing him with what he thinks is caution.

“I just fed her some snacks, so I think she hopes for more,” you coo without really looking at him, “Her name is Lola by the way.”

He scoffs, making you groan too. “I know, okay? I wasn’t the one naming her.”

“I can see the resemblance though,” Joshua shakes his head with a smile. The bunny’s colors do kind of resemble those of the character. “Do you think she’ll hate it if I come closer?”

“Nope, just take one of those and you’ll be fine,” you nod towards a little packet lying on the floor next to the cage, “I promise I’ll clean up tomorrow, I just didn’t feel like it this late.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassures you, quickly stealing a kiss while you move to make room for him at the cage’s open door. The bunny stays surprisingly calm, only putting his paws down on the ground instead of looking out of the cage.

“Hey little one,” Joshua coos at the fluffy ball, and you can already see the enamored sparkle in his eyes, “Let’s get along, hm?”

The bunny’s nose twitches before it returns to its original position and after sniffing Joshua’s fingers for a bit, it discovers the treat and eagerly takes it from him. 

“I think she likes you,” you chuckle. Your boyfriend then moves back to give the bunny space and lets you pull him in for a proper kiss this time. 

“How was your day?” you ask, resting your head on his shoulder as you watch the bunny bobbing its head and hesitating by the open door, unsure if it wants to explore the unfamiliar territory.

“Good, nothing too exciting. She’s cuter than I expected though,” he leans his head against yours.

“Not one word of wanting to get one for ourselves,” you tease, earning yourself a gentle nudge. “Let’s watch something on tv? Maybe she’ll feel more comfortable if we’re not this close. Oh, and I could show you the guide we got.”

The rest of the evening is spent on the couch, Shua resting in your embrace as you go through the brochure together - and him googling tips on how to befriend a bunny faster. Although the animal in your care seems tame enough that his research might prove to be completely useless. 

The bunny doesn’t venture too far away from its cage, but simply the fact that it left its safe sanctuary is a win in your books. The television is just a nice background noise while you both focus on the curious creature hopping around. 

Over the next couple days the bunny gets quite comfortable. Soon enough it’s exploring the entire expanse of the living room, trying to escape further and you let it - with your strict supervision. The animal is an angel, cuddly and sweet - both to you and Joshua. You were a little skeptical when your friend told you her bunny is the friendliest she’s ever seen and wouldn’t last a second in the wild but turns out she was right. And it also turns out that she’ll be her own bunny’s second favorite human when she gets back.

You can’t say you’re surprised exactly when the bunny starts to clearly prefer Joshua’s attention, but it’s very entertaining that your boyfriend keeps trying to persuade the animal to like you more. It’s not that it doesn’t like you, it does, and it’s very affectionate with you. It’s just that wherever Shua appears, you’re immediately just a back up human. 

The bunny lets itself be handled and carried by him, and it’s impossible for you both not to swoon when you see how tiny the animal looks sitting in Joshua’s hands or held in his arms. Treats work well to lure it away from your boyfriend, but it quickly returns once it finishes eating it. At least it’s not jealous and is willing to share him with you, and your boyfriend glows like the sun with you cuddled into his side and the bunny sleeping on his chest.

Anyway - Joshua is the bunny’s favorite human. Even your friend confirmed that much when you facetimed her one night and showed her how her pet behaves.

That’s why it is so confusing when your boyfriend calls you in distress.

“Baby? Baby I did something and now she hates me!”

It takes you a second and another whiny babyyy to process what’s going on and drop the dinner preparations for the sake of your boyfriend and his side chick’s drama.

Joshua sits with his back against the couch, already looking at you with a pout and eyes pleading. You try not to laugh seeing him and look for the bunny instead - not too far away and… stomping her little feet? Thumping. 

“What did you do?” you accuse, pretending to scold him as you sit down next to him. 

“Nothing! I don’t know,” he whines, turning his head left and right, throwing pleading looks yours and the bunny’s way. “Why does she hate me?”

“I don’t know, but according to the guide this means she’s annoyed, so what did you do to her?” you try really hard not to chuckle at his distress. Who’d have thought a man like him could turn into a puddle of misery on the whim of a little bunny.

“Nothing,” he mumbles with a sigh, extending a hand towards the animal. It pushes it away with its paws with another thump and you do fail and laugh at that. You’re quick to coo over your boyfriend when he turns to you with disbelief written all over his face though, his pout deepening. 

“We’ll figure this out, Shua,” you chuckle, kissing his cheek, “You’re her favorite, remember?”

He nods, sighing as the bunny thumps again. It’s cute as ever, maybe more so throwing a tantrum like this.

“So what did you do - what were you doing before she got like this?” you ask, rubbing his arm soothingly. He leans into your touch and he looks so miserable that you almost feel bad for laughing.

“Nothing, I told you,” he -thump- sulks, “I was just petting her.”

Thump thump.

“And then?” you prod.

“Nothing.” Thump thump. “I was petting her and then I stretched, so I- oh.”

Oh indeed.

“Why would you stop petting her and then be all surprised that she’s annoyed with you? Do you have any idea how upsetting it is?” you frown at him.

“Why am I being targeted?” he grumbles before smirking a little, “But thank you for your insight.”

You push his shoulder. “Don’t give in,” you tell the bunny.

“No no no, I learned from my mistakes,” Joshua turns towards the bunny and slowly extends his hand to its little head, “I’m so sorry, little one. Forgive me please.”

He pets it slowly, his fingers stroking the soft fur with patience and dedication that really makes it seem like he’s begging for forgiveness. You regret not having your phone on you to take a video. 

And then suddenly the bunny starts moving, no longer thumping its legs but instead slowly walking towards your boyfriend before climbing onto his legs and settling on his lap. Joshua beams at you and resumes petting the bunny, overjoyed at being forgiven.

“Am I the bunny whisperer?” he whispers, cooing at the fluffball in his lap. You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, and a drama queen,” you tease, but he ignores you in favor of making up with the bunny. It’s a cute look though, so you don’t mind not bickering with him.

“I know I said I don’t want to hear a word about-”

“No.”

He pouts at you when you shut him down immediately.

“Let’s just offer a free bunny sitting whenever, hm?” you suggest.

“Let’s steal her,” Joshua wiggles his brows at you mischievously. You breathe a long sigh.

Then again maybe looking at Joshua with a cute fluffy bunny cuddled up to him every day wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if all it takes for him to get all pouty is a few annoyed thumps.

Now you can only hope your bunny of a boyfriend won’t take on any of her habits.

[bellewintersroe]

Fernando Alonso x YoungerReader! Smut

HEAVY use of ‘daddy’, smut 18+, vaginal sex, oral sex (both receiving) fingering, squirting, anal play, choking, spanking, masturbation, everything ok. Reader is younger than Alonso (no age specified) who is friends with her dad, and the two engage in a secret, sexual relationship. Semi-public sex ensues and Nando fucks reader up against the door that people are trying to get in. Readers a massive tease and gets a kick from getting Fernando off in public.

It started when she’d followed Fernando around the corner, fixing his tie and collar for him when he leaned in and kissed her tenderly. Fernando didn’t know what to expect, he thought he’d massively overstepped a boundary, but little did he realise that y/n was going to kiss him back with twice as much need. He’d had his eye on the young girl on the past 6 months since the 2023 GP kicked off and he worked around her dad often. She was younger than him, it wasn’t anything inappropriate, but the positions they were both in wasn’t exactly a recipe for success. Fernando didn’t care, neither did y/n. For the first time in years Fernando felt excited, passionate, horny- he hadn’t felt so strongly towards a woman in as long as he could remember. The naughty texts he’d get from her, the images, the videos, he felt like his heart, body and soul was owned by her. He was uncontrollably infatuated with y/n and the younger woman felt the same towards him. She’d sit in the chair, smiling and sighing towards him like something out of a Hollywood film. Fernando felt desired, and when he smirked towards her, she felt the exact same way back.

In one particular, very boring meeting (that she was supposed to be listening to) she placed her index finger up to her lips, grazing over the soft area delicately. As she did, she noticed Fernando with eyes already focused on her. They were locked on her and only her. The way her finger that had been inside her only hours prior grazed over her lips. Fernando would die for them to be inside his own mouth, sucking off her sweet juices. He felt his cock jump from just thinking about it.

She bit down on her finger, offering him a smile before her eyes fell to the front of the room, sucking ever so slightly on the tip of her finger. Fernando adjusted himself, attempting to glimpse to what was occurring in the meeting, but he couldn’t turn away from her for any amount of time.

His head snapped back to see her crossing her legs, squeezing them together, the bare skin being so smooth and tanned. He imagined sinking his teeth into the flesh, spanking and then kissing over her thighs, hearing her squeal in a pained pleasure. His cock jumped again, this time there was so adjusting himself to make the issue less well- prominent. He could feel the way his cock was strangled by his pants, strained and aching against the confinements of his trousers.

Y/n’s eyes fell on the area that Fernando evidently tried to cover up. Offering him a sheepish smile, her heart fluttered as she proudly sat, knowing she could make him hard over barely anything. She writhed her legs together again, positive nobody else in the room would pick up on her subtly acts. She reached out, hand wrapping around her water bottle, grazing her hand down before taking a few sips, her lips gliding over her lips afterwards, picking up any stray drops of water. Fernando’s mind went back to the image of her licking his cum clean off his spilling cock, it dripped down her lips and chin deliciously as he exploded his seed inside her mouth.

Oh no. Fernando thought, feeling an uncomfortable stickiness gather against his pubic bone. He was leaking again thinking about her. For a moment he forgot he was a grown man. Slowly, Y/n slid up from her chair, Fernando and some of the other men’s eyes fell onto her ass as she made her way out of the room quietly, smiling innocently. Fernando gulped, wondering if that was an invitation for him to follow. His head snapped back and forth from her and then back to her father who was busy holding the meeting. He’d be busy for at least another two hours, thought Fernando. Gaining the confidence, the driver kept a hand over his crotch, excusing himself quietly before hurrying down the hall, the brush of his pants against his cock making him wince. He needed to be free, and fast. He pulled out his phone desperate to hear from her, only his eyes popped out of his head seeing the video she’d sent him only a minute prior.

Fernando eyed up the empty hall, turning down his volume to a low setting before playing the video and seeing it was her, sat on a couch of a small meeting room, pants off and fingers rubbing over her clothed clit. Fernando could faintly hear her soft pants, and had to stabilise himself from fainting at the pure bliss of receiving such a video.

Y/n: hurry the door is unlocked I’m in the same one from yesterday

Fernando’s body moved faster than his legs could take him and he was overwhelmingly quick to reach the room. He had to take a breath to compose himself, entering the room with a hitched jaw seeing her sat, legs pressed together under a blanket and a shy look covering her face. Thank God it was Fernando, she thought, and not some other person who accidentally stumbled into the room.

Fernando completely forgot to the lock the door, not that that would matter straight away, but he quite literally was gobsmacked when the blanket fell and she spread her legs, pushing her hand down over the lace of her pants, sighing as she rubbed over her aching pussy.

How Fernando didn’t cum there and then in his pants he’d never know. He looked so good, she thought, her head tilting back and to the side with a soft sigh of his name. His black polo tucked into his black pants, arms bulging out at the bicep, similar to how his cock pressed at the seams of his pants.

With the moan of his name, Fernando fell to his knees, a gentle smile tugging on his lips as he reached out, taking a hold of either outside of her legs, rubbing down the soft skin. “La mejor sorpresa.” (The best surprise) he hushed, pressing a longing yet tender kiss to the sensitive of her flesh. Y/n exhaled gently, continuing to rub gently, hips gyrating up and down ever so slightly. She was captivated with his Spanish words, the glisten in his hazel eyes. Her movements were relaxed with a second kiss to her inner thigh.

“My love.” He hushed in his husky voice, resting his cheek and temple to her legs as he gazed up to her. The moment was gentle, yet overwhelmingly sensual. His eyes trailed down to where she pleasured herself and he unconsciously pressed his crotch harder against the edge of the couch.

Y/n let out a soft hum, a slight plea for him to touch her. He slid his hands forwards, taking her underwear by the waistband and slowly pulling them off, tossing them to one side. “Necesito este coño.” (I need this pussy) he hushed, kissing her pussy lips gently. “Te necesito.” (I need you) Fernando whispered again, spreading her lips a little further and licking a stripe up between her folds. His tongue was hot and wet, flicking over her clit which sent a sigh of relief to leave her lips.

“What’re you saying, Nando?” Her voice broke on an inhale when he wrapped his lips around her pussy, sucking gently, her hips lolling forwards. “How much I need you and this pussy.” The Spaniard rasped against her, lips moving against her skin as she spoke. She was sticky from wetness, Fernando wanted to lick it clean. He imagined how badly she was squirming in her underwear at the meeting, her thongs dripping with her juices.

“Mh, you’re all I can think about.” She airily spoke. In response, Fernando ate her out, gently, but steadily. Her hand came up, swiping her hair out of her face like she was in a movie, Fernand’s eyes glued to her. “Fuck… yes.” She exhaled out in response, fingers stroking through his dark strands of hair. Fernando wanted to feel the tug of her fingers against his scalp, the scratch of his nails down the tattoo on his back.

Fernando flattened his tongue, swiping all over her pussy, letting out a grunt in appreciation as he hooked her thigh over his shoulders, delving deeper. The sound of her moan cracking had him going crazy, he slurped and sighed against her drenched core, spitting and adding a finger to the mix. Her sounds were pure bliss, she gasped and begged for more, fingering at his hair, his shirt which had pulled loose from his pants.

“Fernando… fuck, Nando, Nando, Nando.” She wept out his name like a mantra, still remaining relatively quiet. Fernando didn’t want quiet, he knew this area of the hotel would remain virtually empty, he wanted her screaming, cock hungry for more of him. After one particular sharp pull on his hair, Fernando let out a moan, eyes rolling back and voice vibrating against her aching pussy, he pulled back and bit firmly into the flesh of her thigh.

“Please.” Her hips bucked, and she yanked him by the hair back into her vagina. Fernando felt the ache of his cock now, painful in his pants, he thrusted slightly against the couch, rubbing the his cock up and down against the plush material.

Fernando brought his fingers up, pushing one into her hole with no warning. “Fuck!” She squealed, hand snatching the couch, nails digging into the material as he pushed the digit in and out of her. “Oh my god!” She moaned in a pornographic manner. Fernando smirked, this is exactly what he wanted from the younger woman.

Her hips were jumping so Nando pushed a hand against her hip bone, pinning her into the couch whilst finger fucking her with his other hand. Y/n felt the sensitive fuck of his digits against her g-spot and knew she wouldn’t last long. He sucked and licked like a desperate man against her pussy, hand moving up to pin at her throat as her moans became distorted through the lack of air.

The familiar tightness built and the squelch of her wet pussy was soon replaced with a gushing as she came undone, both with her orgasm and squirting all over Fernando’s hand. He growled, continuing to finger her over the edge as she screamed out, unable to take anymore. Anybody listening in would think there was an exorcism taking place. “Fernando, please!” She begged as he removed his finger, lapping up her spilt juices, hands moving down to unbuckle his belt desperately. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” She choked out, tormented by the over simulation. Fernando quickly freed his cock, wiping the back of his arm against his chin and mouth before moving down to kiss her with an undeniable want. “Let me fuck you.” He grunted, jerking his hand back and fourth over his cock that had been deprived for so long.

“You don’t want to fuck my mouth first?” She giggled, Fernando paused, panting harshly before kissing her firmly again. “Please, please, I want your cock in my mouth.”

“You want that?” Fernando grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up at him. Y/n grinned through her excitement, the pain of his fistful around her hair making her pussy throb all over again.

“I want it so bad, Fernando.” He kissed her once, twice again, before pushing her down to her knees where she gagged herself on his erection, stuffing her mouth as full as she could have his large cock. Fernando immediately let out an animalistic groan at her hot mouth around his aching member. Her mouth felt so good, too good, almost as good as her tight little pussy.

She moaned around his length, gazing up through those pretty eyelashes as Fernando stared at the youthful woman. From this angle he could see to her breasts down her top, the swell of them in her bra, pushed together, he wanted to spill his seed all over them. Fernando’s mouth was open, face was red and he began sweating with eyebrows knitted together as Y/n watched him, sucking up and down on him.

Her cheeks hollowed out, she drooled down his cock, taking a handful of his balls, delighted to hear the many moans, pants and grunts that Fernando unleashed. She teased, running her wet tongue all down the base of his cock and over his head, over his balls, going excruciatingly slow, “why don’t you take charge, you know I like it when you are.” She giggled, sucking his tip lightly. Fernando’s voice cracked as his head fell back in pure bliss.

“Are you sure?”

“Please… please daddy.” She hushed out the next words and Fernando felt so filthy- in the best way. “Say it again.” He snatched at her jaw, “daddy.” The pet name caused him to pop a gentle smack over her cheek, one that made her grin before he yanked her chin open and began thrusting into her mouth. “Ah- shit- ah mierda!” He cursed in both English and his native tongue, hips jittering when he felt her take him all the way down her throat. Y/n’s nose was pressed to Alonso’s freshly trimmed pubic bone, she gagged slightly and Fernando pulled off with another loud groan.

“Are you ok?” He held her face, seeing the tears formed in her eyes from choking on his cock. “So good.” She confirmed as he smiled, lifting her up to her wobbly feet.

“You know you are good at that.” The man flirted, beginning to unbutton at her blouse, ripping it off before moving to her bra. “I know.” She teased with a giggle, the two of them sharing another kiss. “Where do you want me? Bent over?” She moved up and around to his ear, standing on her toes to kiss at his neck, jaw and earlobe.

“Yes.” Fernando breathed, tossing her bra to one side before taking a handful of the swell of her perfect breasts. “You can have me however you want.” She whispered, sending shudders down his back, the two of them sharing another heated, open mouthed kiss before she pulled at his shirt, freeing him and exposing his bare, toned abdomen.

Fernando twisted her by the hips, her body completely nude for him as he planted a spank to her ass- not too hard, he didn’t want to hurt her. “Harder.” She moaned in response when his palm caught her ass a little harder. Alonso moved down, licking a swipe all the way from her pussy to her asshole, delving in the area once again. It was irresistible, she was irresistible, and when his cock squelched inside the wetness of her tight little hole, Fernando thought he’d faint.

“Oh, Fernando!” She whined, petite frame pushed over the back of the couch as she arched her back, he continued fucking into her, sending a few slaps over her ass and thighs in the process. “Daddy, please.” She begged, reaching back. Fernando grunted, snatching her hair and pulling her back as he leaned forwards, catching a kiss to her forehead as she panted, breathless from the sex.

Fernando’s hand palmed at the flesh he’d slapped, smoothing the area and relaxing his hold in her head to hold under her chin, his lips pressed to the top of her head tilted back.

“Eres mi buena chica, ¿no? Qué buena chica sucia, rebotando así en mi polla.” (You’re my good girl, aren’t you? Such a good, dirty girl bouncing on my cock like that).That’s when the Spanish dirty talk happened and Y/n thought she’d pass out from pure ecstasy. “Yes, yes, yes.” She let out a low whine as Fernando knelt on the couch, resting his arms on the back, besides her body. His face was close to hers now as he bucked into her slowly.

“Yes?” He laughed. “You know what I’m saying?” Fernando grinned, kissing her cheek and pressing a second kiss to her lips as she giggled breathlessly.

“No, but I can guess.” She hummed. “I bet you can.” He panted in response, pulling her up my both her arms and continuing the same brutal pace as earlier. Her cries and whines continued as Nando breathed heavily, grunting through the building pleasure he felt. Her pussy was the tightest he’d felt, so warm and wet, he fit inside perfectly. He was meant for her.

As the two were evidently occupied, they didn’t hear the footsteps gaining towards the door- and no it wasn’t Y/n’s father- thank god. But instead, the handle jiggled, a businessman from the meeting looking for the bathroom. Fernando reacted quick, slamming his hand against the door and locking it. Y/n laughed, turning over her shoulder in surprise. Fernando let out a breath of relief before smiling towards her and gesturing her over. “Fuck, Nando, did you not lock the door?” She brushed her hair out of her face. The man simply shrugged with a sheepish smile and she playfully nudged him.

He reached down, grabbing her thighs and wrapping them around his waist, pressing her back to the cold door in which people were trying to get into. “Fernando! It’s cold!” “Shhh.” He teased, slipping easily back inside her dripping pussy. Her mouth opened and eyes glazed over again, this time, Fernando couldn’t stop staring at her beauty. His lips made his way to hers and their sounds were muffled by the kisses and the hitting of her back against the door. “Fuck!” As their love making continued they became careless, loud again, the door was rattling and Fernando began drilling into the girl who clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into her back.

“Nando!” She wept, her body tensing, coil tightening in her abdomen. “Not my name.” The sweating man grunted as she moaned out again. “Daddy.” She cried out instead which only spurred him further. One arm wrapped around her lower hips, whilst the other pulled down on her shoulder, stuffing his cock as deep inside of her pussy as possible.

“Gonna cum- fuck! I want you to come too.” She gasped, leaving a particularly harsh scratch in his back. Nando growled before pulling her hair to one side, his fist shaking as he chased his orgasm.

“Please, please, please!” She pleaded, fingers rubbing against her clit as she bounced aimlessly with every thrust. “Yes.” Fernando choked out. “Yes, yes, cum for me- I’m gonna- Mierda- I’m cumming.” His jaw tensed as he let out an animalistic groan of pure bliss through his teeth before he was thrown over the edge, her orgasm approaching soon after.

Their sighs of relief mixed with yells and groans of pleasure settled down, and feeling the drip of his cum from her pussy, Fernando let out a small sound, moving her gently and laying her down on the couch. “Mh-” before he could move she held onto his arm, the man chose to settle down besides her, kissing her tenderly and plugging a finger inside the hole he’d just filled with his cum.

“You did good.” He whispered, leaving a longing kiss to her temple, and another on her lips. “Nando.” She innocently whispered, fingers trailing through his hair. He glanced down, inspecting her leaking pussy as he pushed his finger in gently. Y/n whined slightly but Nando soothed her with gentle shushes.

“I bet your dad doesn’t know what kind of a bad girl you are.” He muttered as she giggled, swatting his arm slightly. Fernando rested on his side, admiring her beauty with a hand under his head, elbow prompted onto the couch. He felt bad for whoever had to sit here after.

“My good girl.” He then smiled as they shared another kiss. He brought his finger up, to her lips and she stuck her tongue out, sucking him clean. Fernando could have sworn he was ready for round two immediately, entranced by how sensual and purely beautiful Y/n was.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

I read your yandere dilf post just before going to sleep and had a very interesting dream as a result: yandere Wild West Outlaw!

He takes you hostage to keep the rangers from going after him after a robbery. You’re tied up in front of him on his horse and after riding away from town for a long time he doesn’t set you down somewhere like you expected but takes you with him into his hideout.

Bonus: he‘s (basically) masked > bandana covering half his face and the rim of his hat casting a shadow over his eyes

Yandere Wild West Outlaw! Headcanons

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Touching, Forced Proximity, Slow Burn, Stockholm Syndrome, Masked Outlaw ;), Petnames, Killing, Mentions of Robbery, Non-Consensual Voyeurism/Surveillance, Description of Injury & Blood, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’, etc.

A/N: Anon, I am in love with this concept !

♡ Yandere Outlaw whose body encompasses yours, his chest to your back and his arms caging you as he grips the horse’s reigns, his breathing steady as if he hadn’t just committed a multitude of crimes. Then again, considering how proficient he was at wiping the inn clean of all its savings and tying you up on his horse before the rangers could even arrive, you suspected this was not the first time he’d done this. Nor would it be the last.

♡ Yandere Outlaw says very little after he abducted you, his last words being sharp commands, laden with a calmness you would never have expected from a man holding an entire building hostage.

♡ And, in your terror, you said nothing to him, your back to his front as he rode to nowhere discernible, the civilised, populated terrain of your home town having melted away hours ago.

♡ No, the Outlaw gave nothing away. Even after days of being forced to travel with him to what you could only pray would be a town – somewhere for him to dispose of you before taking to the canyons again – he said nothing.

♡ He’d offer you food, and, after the first 24 hours of starving yourself out of sheer distrust – or principle, as you wanted to see it – you succumbed to your famine.

♡ Yandere Outlaw would feed it to you before disappearing behind whatever cover lay nearby – oftentimes his horse – and eat.

♡ Whatever lay beneath his bandana was a mystery to you. And it only took you trying to see what he looked like once to see that your endeavour was a hopeless one.

♡ You’d strained and leaned past the point of no return, falling onto your side.

♡ And Outlaw came back into view, adjusting his bandana back over his nose, the shadow cast over his eyes by his hat much like that descending over the valley you now inhabited.

♡ Your heart stammered as he grew closer, the spurs of his boots the land equivalent to the fin of a shark as Outlaw came to a stop before you.

♡ He got to one knee, so quietly that you could see why nobody ever saw him coming, and, brushing a lock of hair from your face with a gloved hand, chuckled.

♡ Low and rumbling, like an earthquake. Or one of God’s many natural disasters. A gruff, brief thing as ephemeral as life itself. 

♡ “Don’t get yourself all scuffed up now, Darlin’,” he says. His hand trails from just behind your ear, tracing your jaw, the tendons in your neck, stopping just short of where your shirt hangs above your collar bones.

♡ You think that you hear him hiss. So sibilant and soft you’re unsure whether you perhaps imagined it and rather heard the conversation of pit vipers laying just below the hard sand beneath your ear.

♡ Outlaw’s head tilts, his face no clearer to you now as it was days ago, especially now with the setting sun casting a misplaced halo about his hat-clad head, his front shadowed. Two sides, one a light facade, the other his true nature.

♡ “You’re no good to me broken.”

♡ Yandere Outlaw whose only elaboration of that cryptic sentiment comes in the form of another day’s travel, during which you remained firmly bound – and gagged at one juncture when you made the mistake of crying for help when you spotted a lone merchant out on the open road.

♡ Yandere Outlaw neutralised that channel of freedom for you very quickly with a crack of a bullet, leaving you glassy-eyed and breathless as he ransacked the merchant’s travel cabin, taking all manner of valuables.

♡ “Why, thank you, Darlin’,” he says, his gloved hand coming to rest on your knee, clapping down on you and making you jump – shriek. And he squeezes with all the familiarity of someone who’s done this before.

♡ “Wouldn’t’a found this here haul if you hadn’t tried to scream your pretty little head off.”

♡ Yandere outlaw knows that’s isn’t quite true; he’s an excellent tracker, and an even better marksman. He’d have found this travelling man on his own eventually; the outcome would have been identical. But you didn’t need to know that.

♡ The gag was practically useless after that, for your desire to keep others from the same fate as the travelling salesman had you quiet as a mouse.

♡ Yandere Outlaw can sense how rigid you are – less so than you were when he’d first taken you, but you still felt…different. You were loose in the way that submission often made people slaves to fatigue, to their fate. And he couldn’t help but wonder if you’d succumbed to yours so soon, especially when, as you finally drifted off to sleep after a day and a half without it, you leaned into his chest, head to his shoulder.

♡ Unwillingly, of course. Your exhaustion weighed you down, lead. You had no control over your unconscious body, regardless of how repulsive you found the pillow you were leaning on.

♡ Yandere Outlaw can’t help but let his gaze drift from the open canyon ahead, gradually giving way to caves and rocky rivers, to your face. You were tranquil in sleep, brew no longer knotted in worry, or fear. Just…sleep.

♡ Yandere Outlaw could feel his hands twitching, the urge to touch you creeping up behind him the longer he stared at your vulnerable form.

♡ Yandere outlaw who, for a second, and a second only, let his hand slip from the reigns and slither, slowly, to your knee, up the expanse of your clothed thigh.

♡ Yandere Outlaw’s heart who, for the first time in a long time, beats at a humming bird’s pace when you shift in your slumber, making him withdraw.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who, watching, waiting for you to settle back into sleep, kept his hands from you the rest of the night. Though temptation beckons him to do otherwise.

♡ Yandere Outlaw shifted behind you, waking you. Only when you were torn from a dream of being anywhere but here did you realise the horse had come to a stop, an unfamiliar breeze settling over you.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who, unsaddling you from the horse, carries you like a bride in his arms, kicking open the door to an abode you didn’t even know was there.

♡ Yandere Outlaw sets you down beside a pole, tying you to it. Tightly.

♡ “Welcome home, Dollface,” he says, hands settling on his belt as he watches your eyes jump from one corner to another, taking in these new surroundings, these new circumstances.

♡ Of course, you don’t accept the conditions Outlaw has roped you into. Not without a fight.

♡ Yandere Outlaw, as a result, had to keep his eye on you when you initially began your residence with him. 

♡ For the first couple of weeks, he’d take you to the waterfall to bathe every other day; would watch you as you did so. At first, bashful and uncomfortable, you’d asked him to turn around as you stood exposed. To which the Outlaw just laughed. “Ain’t much worth lookin’ at,” he’d reassured you.

♡ Yandere outlaw who tells you exactly how the day’s going to go.

♡ “You’re gonna cook whatever I bring back. Y’understand ?”

♡ Yandere Outlaw who initially only lets you chop up vegetables and bread, withholding the excuse to use a sharp knife from you by intentionally not collecting any meat.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who, before taking even a bite of the meal you prepare, makes you taste it first. “I know you little crafty types; poison enough in your veins to kill a horse.”

♡ Translation: “You’re having this first to make sure it’s not going to kill me.”

♡  Yandere Outlaw who, after that initial hurdle, though he won’t admit it, feels his tongue practically bursting with flavour when he tastes your soup for the first time. Though, he keeps it under wraps, his form hidden behind a wall, his bandana pulled down.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who, with little alternative to offer you, makes you sleep in his bed.

♡ “Either that, or you’re sleepin’ outside.”

♡ He still wears the bandana btw, and wears a sleep mask over his eyes.

♡ He doesn’t touch you. Not in intentional ways, it would seem.

♡ Not at first.

♡ A light brush of the hand here and there. 

♡ Sure, the urge to bask in the aura of the most beautiful person he’s ever seen is pretty overwhelming for the Outlaw. Especially since he doesn’t understand why he feels this way, never having felt it for anyone else before.

♡ Sure, he’s taken others, some much more enthusiastic than others (you don’t get to his level of notoriety without attracting a few hundred fans).

♡ So, when you’re asleep, an arm and a leg bound to the bedpost, he watches you.

♡ He tells himself it’s for his own safety, to make sure you’re not going to reach for a weapon and gut him like a pig.

♡ But when he sees your gentle face, he knows you’re incapable of that

♡ He likes to think that you’re incapable of anything without him around. Makes him feel bigger, stronger.

♡ So why exactly was he still looking upon you into the late hours of the night ?

♡ Over time, his resolve begins to crack.

♡ Especially with every aspect of your partnership accounted for.

♡ The baths, the bed sharing, the homemade cooking – it’s just all so…

♡ Domestic.

♡ But, that doesn’t make Outlaw trust you any more than the day he first took you. Not yet, at least.

♡ Despite his confidence in his own ability to keep you here, he knows the indomitable human spirit is strong enough to break through every precaution. And, just in case you do manage to escape, he’s making sure you can’t pick him out of a lineup if you make it to law enforcement – if the vultures don’t pick you off first.

♡ Yandere Outlaw makes you cook every night, under the guise of you “Needin’ your strength to straighten this place out.”

♡ Yandere Outlaw who appoints you as his head housekeeper, making it your sole responsibility to be the “homemaker” of the two of you.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who feels strange when he sees you with one of his shirts tied about your waist – a makeshift apron – who doesn’t even recognise this feeling as domesticity. Warmth. That feeling of security having been deprived of him all his life.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who wonders what you’d look like wearing one of his shirts.

♡ And something in his brain chemistry changes.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who, during your river baths, knocks your clothes into the stream when you’re not looking, offering you his shirt when you’re ready to come out.

♡ “Y’really should be careful,” he tells you, swallowing thickly as the neckline of his shirt dips below your collarbones, drowning you. He looks away, not trusting that the feeling coiling in his lower half won’t spring out at any moment. “Men might take advantage of a pretty lil’ thing like you. Especially when you’re so…” A shiver shoots up his spine. “Vulnerable.”

♡ Your clothes seem to disappear not long after that, leaving you only with whatever consisted of the Outlaw’s wardrobe.

♡ You notice that he seems to disappear at odd hours of the day, leaving you to your chores while he does something.

♡ Little do you know that the something he is doing is a secret he’ll take to his grave.

♡ The sight of you in his shirts, of you in the river, is too much for him.

♡ He takes to hiding out in a densely vegetated patch of land behind the cabin to…relieve himself of his thoughts of you. Thoughts he’s used to sustaining for perhaps a second or two when it came to his prior conquests. Thoughts that, now, a month into your capture, extend long into his nights and speckle his logic when he’s on a mission.

♡ It’s dangerous, he knows; to have his mind elsewhere while he risks his life for the loot he so desires. But he can’t deny that they make him feel human. Normal.

♡ Despite how un-normal this entire situation is.

♡ It takes every ounce of his restraint not to just tie you down and take you while you sleep beside him, make you scream and cry for him as he empties his frustration and, dare he say, lust, into you.

♡ But, he doesn’t want to scare you off.

♡ Doesn’t want to see your eyes light up in fear whenever he enters the room.

♡ He wants something else.

♡ Something that he doesn’t have a word for.

♡ It’s only when he happens across a conversation with you, asking you if you had “A lover boy back home,” that he found the word he was looking for.

♡ You wince at the question, the memory of your life away from this situation salt in an unhealed wound.

♡ “No,” you tell him, your honesty a virtue. “Haven’t been in a relationship yet.”

♡ Relationship.

♡ It felt right to the Outlaw when he heard it; especially coming from you.

♡ It sticks with him the rest of the day, and while you’re cooking dinner, washing the Outlaw’s clothes, dusting the sparse furniture, he’s got one thing on his mind.

♡ How to get you into a relationship with him.

♡ He’s completely unequipped to deal with someone on such an intimate level, so he uses all his knowledge he’s gathered while seducing and bedding others to piece together a game plan.

♡ First, he needs to know what you like. He remembers from that one time a woman hit him with her shoe when he forgot her name ten minutes after meeting her.

♡ So, he starts hanging around you (much) more often, making you sit down and tell him about yourself.

♡ As he makes you spend time in his company, he comes to learn of the fanciful little things you enjoy.

♡ At first, the details are dry and few and far between, with you giving very little about yourself away.

♡ But, as his persistence drags into days, you eventually just start telling him whatever he asks, so long as it’s not too personal.

♡ Or painful.

♡ Whenever the outlaw can see you're starting to become upset, being reminded of your circumstances, he eases up on the personal questions and just asks superficial ones.

♡ “How’re ya feeling today ?” “D’ya eat well this mornin’ ?” “D’ya need me to dust a shelf down or something’ ?”

♡ His miniscule acts of selflessness are extensions of his effort to make you at least not hate him. Though you didn’t know this. His thought process was still an enigma to you.

♡ He also stalks you in his own home.

♡ Listens to you sing while you complete your tasks, your voice the softest thing he’s heard since…well, ever.

♡ Yandere Outlaw who, when he embarks on a hunt, never tells you where or when, and never even the how.

♡ The only clue you’ll ever be given as to his nigh-weekly excursions are trinkets he brings with him. Ones which you thought he’d pawn elsewhere in the county at a later date, or bury in the canyon somewhere.

♡ Until he offers them to you.

♡ At first, you’re not sure what to make of these…gifts ?

The first time he gave you one, he said nothing, only watching you.

♡ You swore you could see his shoulders heaving beneath his jacket, something almost feral in his demeanour. Pressurising.

♡ And, with the possibility of what could happen to you should you decline these acts of…generosity…You just take them, uttering a quiet “Thank you,” before putting them in a kitchen cabinet, unsure of the intent behind them.

♡ The first few times this happened, you were befuddled.

♡ Yet, with how gently the Outlaw placed them in your hands, with how intense his gaze was, even though you couldn’t see it beneath the permanent shadow across his brow, you could feel it.

♡ It was only one evening when the Outlaw returned with yet more loot that the meaning behind the trinkets became apparent.

♡ His hand disappears into the inside pocket of his jacket, and he withdraws a small box; rounded and bejewelled like an idol. He comes to stand before you, and, shoulders pinned abc and rigid, you swallow. Thickly.

♡ He looks down at the box, and,his finger dragging along the edge, slowly, he relinquishes it to you.

♡ And, by pure force of habit, you accept.

♡ You turn the box gingerly between your fingers, the dim candlelight from within the cabin just barely warding off the black of the night, setting the precious stones welded within the metal alight.

♡ “Well,” the Outlaw says, making you jump. You look up at him, eyes wide.

♡ “Open it.”

♡ He says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

♡ Swallowing again, your gaze skitters back to the box.

♡ And, with bated breath, you lift the lid.

♡ A delicate, silver melody slithers from the portal you’ve opened, a serpentine tune wrapping around your mind, vivid, beloved memories riding on its feathered wings.

♡ Your favourite song.

♡ For a moment, one sweet, fragile moment, you’re not here.

♡ You’re back at home, in a warm bed that is yours and yours alone, surrounded by the people who matter most to you, any celebration mankind can conjure not even a whisper of the joy you feel in this scene.

♡ And then, as the wind blows autumn leaves from the human mind, the memory is gone, taken away by reality realising it has neglected you.

♡ You’re looking into nothing now, the apparition of your past slipping from you, your eyes wavered and muffled with…

♡ Tears.

♡ In your periphery, just outside the realm of reality you’re returning to, the Outlaw’s drilling gaze drops from you to the floor ina  rare show of anticipation. A hand comes to the back of his neck, where he squeezes the skin. A stress ball.

♡ “Do you…” he begins, “Do ya like it ?”

♡ Your stare inches from the void up to the outlaw’s hidden face.

♡ Perhaps if he had a discernible human feature, you could sense anticipation there. But as it stood, this was no man, but a phantom.

♡ One which must have heard and remembered that tune you often sang while completing chores.

♡ You couldn’t take it.

♡ To have him acknowledge the memory – to make it more real – nailed your coffin shut.

♡ And you broke down.

♡ When you crumpled into a pile, the Outlaw took a step back, one hand reaching for his holster; a knee-jerk reaction.

♡ And what little solace he could offer came in a most inconspicuous display.

♡ The Outlaw got to one knee, now at your level.

♡ And, with a careful hand, he placed a gloved finger upon your shoulder. Then another. Then another.

♡ Spidery and unfamiliar, foreign, the Outlaw’s actions were jerky, janky, an unoiled machine. But he was trying.

♡ When his hand lay against the curve of your shoulder, you did not move. Did not shunt him off or scream at him to let go.

♡ You remained where you were, weeping into your shirt apron.

♡ And the Outlaw, with a fiery grip encircling his heart, feeling brewing in his centre, stronger than all those implicatures and desires. This was solid, unlike the quicksand foundations upon which the Outlaw’s every emotion was built upon.

♡ Was this…

♡ Empathy ?

♡ His grip on your shoulder tightened, the revelation swarming through him like locusts.

♡ He swallowed. Tried thinking through the orchestra in his mind.

♡ “S’okay,” he said. To you, and to himself. His fingers moved gently, your skin and muscle warm through the leather of his gloves. “You’re okay.”

♡ Things changed after that.

♡ He no longer forced you to sleep in the same bed as him, instead bringing back with him a fine silk cover from one of his trips, gifting it to you.

♡ Yet, you still chose to sleep in the same bed as him.

♡ “It’ll be getting cold soon,” you said. “WIth winter coming, and all.”

♡ And, while this new feeling, raw and fresh, was…nice compared to the emptiness that often lingered in his chest, the Outlaw couldn’t help but feel weakened by this influx of emotion.

♡ When he tried to have his alone time with his thoughts of you, he felt…wrong.

♡ Ashamed.

–

♡ You were used to him disappearing for days at a time. Hell, you'd come to expect it at this point in your captivity.

♡ But something about tonight felt...off.

♡ Not that you'd ever admit it, even to yourself, but with the amount of time you'd spent together these last few months, you no longer hated being in his company.

♡ In fact, on the days he would be gone from the early hours of the morn to the late hours of the evening, you could even say you...missed it.

♡ And, unfortunately, despite your every instinct swaying you otherwise, you find that to be the case now.

♡ But, more than that, you're concerned. Something you'd never thought you'd feel for a murderer, a thief. Your kidnapper.

♡ And your pacing, your lip-chewing, your nail-biting are all proven justified when the Outlaw slams against the front door, stumbling through.

♡ At first, you just watch, ready to yell, to ask where he's been the last few days, until you see it.

♡ A bloodied handprint on the door.

♡ He staggers in, swaying on uneven footing, his breathing stifled,as if through a thin straw. He wheezes, collapsing into the doorframe beside him.

♡ And you rush to him. As if he wasn't the one who put you here to begin with. As if whatever's bringing him to his knees now wasn't justified, provoked.

♡ But you don't think of any of that, your mind filled only with the fact that nobody knows you're out here. Without guidance, you'd be dead before you reached the edge of the canyon encompassing your hiding place.

♡ You needed him alive.

♡ After wrestling him onto his bed, almost buckling beneath his weight, you found the source of his downfall.

♡ A wound; bullet-bitten and bleeding, a rouge flower burgeoning with the promise of extinction.

♡ You tried getting him to talk, to tell you what to do. But his voice was barely a whisper, instead using what little seeping strength that remained to point to a cabinet.

♡ Inside, you found what you knew would be needed to heal him. Whether it – you – could save him, though, was another story.

♡ You tried taking his bandana off to see if he was hurt elsewhere, but to no avail. Despite the life draining from his body, he somehow found it in himself to stop you, to place a gloved, trembling hand atop yours, an imploring aura to the gesture.

♡ Don't.

♡ And, for the first time, beneath the dim light of the cabin, you could see something human on him.

♡ It existed only in the form of a shimmer beneath the shadow of his hat, his face still very much obscured, yet the emotions on it were not.

♡ You recognised this emotion, for you'd worn it yourself, both inwardly and out, for the last three months.

♡ Fear.

♡ In its purest and most carnal form.

♡ And a voice, strained with either agony or disuse.

♡ “Help me.”

♡ Throughout the night, you tended to Outlaw's wound. A maw-like, gaping thing it was, spouting blood as one would bucket water out of a sinking boat.

♡ Luckily, you didn't have to worry about shrapnel; the bullet went clean through outlaw's side, leeaving only the aftermath and not the instigator. You managed to stop the bleeding, use the stitching on Outlaw's shirt (which was basically yours now) to sew the wound closed.

♡ For the first time, Outlaw was uncharacteristically human.

♡ Sure, you'd seen the scars on his back when he bathed, the many brushes with death he'd encountered, some advancing into a dance, much like this night's escapade had been.

♡ But you knew, somewhere, somehow, that without another pair of hands here, Outlaw likely wouldn't have pulled through.

♡ Not this time.

♡ And now, here you sat, at Outlaw's beck and call, his bedside your new home.

♡ You watched over him, the cabin silent, the night just as quiet. Even the crickets seemed to chirp quieter, either out of fear or respect for the almost dearly departed.

♡ And, looking up from the massacre on the bed, your gaze swept the room. And you realise something.

♡ The front door, which neither you, nor Outlaw locked, is unguarded.

♡ Yandere outlaw is riddled with sleep, his agony having stripped him of his energy and his strength.

♡ So...why hadn't you tried to escape yet ?

♡ Looking over at Outlaw, sound asleep, you realised just how easy it would be to walk out that door.

♡ Sure, you might get lost. Might die of hypothermia during the freezing hours of a dessert night, but with enough layers, food and water, you saw no reason as to why you couldn't just leave right now.

♡ After all, it wasn't like you'd be killing Outlaw if you left. Sure he might die of infection, or blood loss if his stitches come undone. But you'd at least tried to help him. So your conscience wasn't going to be the issue.

♡ So what was stopping you ?

♡ Looking back at the Outlaw, you felt strange.

♡ The urge to protect him, to care for him, outweighed even your greatest notion of escape, which explained why the thought to do so hadn't hit you until just now.

♡ You bit your lip, looking between Outlaw and the door.

♡ Both options were tantilisingly easy to pursue, and yet only one would be available to you, the other perishing if you ignored it.

♡ Maybe hours passed. Maybe it was mere minutes.

♡ But watching the Outlaw sleep, at his most vulnerable, with his pleading “Help me,” rattling around in your mind, the choice already seemed to be made for you. You just didn't want to tell yourself exactly why. 

♡ So...you stayed.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Yandere Masterpost Masterpost

[murrpa]

my current favorite hc is that Logan developed OCD after he officially gets together with Wade, and no it’s not the germaphobe one, but ROCD (ocd that’s about a relationship)

but Wade didn’t do anything, it’s that something clicked in Logan’s head that suddenly makes him ruminate about their relationship, something along the lines of

“if I don’t make the bed or help him with dinner he’s gonna kick me out” or “if I talk to him in a certain tone of voice he’s gonna break up with me”, “he doesn’t really love me”, “what if I don’t truly love him?”, “what if he still likes Vanessa?”, “what if he’s secretly scared of me?” “what if im not good enough?” and so much more but those are the most common ones.

so he’s performing compulsive behaviors to calm his mind, like cleaning the entire apartment, making sure Vanessa won’t be where ever they are, consistently buying Wade his favorite snacks, putting his favorite shows on tv even if Logan hates them, and haven’t done or said anything mean to Wade, nor disagreed with him, although his thoughts keep coming back with more slam to the point he’s quietly sobs from time to time when no one’s near, his fear of loosing Wade becomes stronger each passing day and his compulsive acts become more and more intense: he spaces out A LOT, picks at his skin, folds Wades clothes with so much care while leaves his own simply in a pile, makes sure he’s as close as he can be to Wade when they’re walking, eating, cuddling etc., he can’t help but think about different ways Wade could be disappointed in him

“if i won’t kiss him 3 times something bad is gonna happen” or “if i won’t fall asleep holding him he’s gonna get out of bed and walk away”, “what if he’s talking to someone behind my back?”

meanwhile Wade was clueless, up until one morning when he wakes up to a whole meal brought into the bed by Logan.

Wade: Oh my fuck, Wolvie! Holy shit, is it my birthday?!

Logan, temporary relieved to see his sleepy smile: Do you want me to bring you breakfast in bed from now on?

He’s ready to hear yes from Wade, but he only laughs.

Wade: Cmon peanut, you’re not my maid, but man, you’ve been cooking for us this whole time, and everything tastes delicious, though I never expected an ex-alcoholic to be such an amazing chef!

Logan tenses up but keeps a smile, watching Wade inhale his breakfast burrito and coffee.

Wade: Speaking of which, I wanted to talk or… rather ask.

His voice is still sleepy and soft, but that sentence drenches Logan in cold sweat as he keeps his cool but the more seconds pass with Wade chewing the more his heart races.

Wade: Is everything okay with you lately? Like you… changed and… not like im upset i just… would like to know what’s going on?

Logan feels his chest pinching and throat tightening.

“should i lie, maybe if I speak up about it that will only push him more towards what im so afraid of?”

He’s silent, his eyes drop to his hands as he’s making a life-or-death decision, but the words spill out themselves.

Logan: You love me, right?

Wade blinked as if he just asked the most stupid question in the universe.

Wade: That’s why… oh, sweetheart…

Wades voice softens even more after he sees Logan tear up.

Wade: Cm’here, baby, tell me what’s bothering you?

And that’s when Logan tells him everything and every thought that went thought his head, explaining it all through more tears, after Wade looks him straight in the eyes with all seriousness, holding Logan’s face.

Wade: I want that to forever be engraved in your mind, I love you Logan, I love you like nobody before, and always will, and so do you, I feel it in your touch, your voice, no matter what you do, we love each other, and that’s how it is, nothing can change that.

Logan’s soul finally breaks out the nasty chains as he kisses Wade so passionately he even forgot what started it

[kp-alice]

The Fall of the Undefeated One

Summary: Your boss is the epitome of a workplace bully, pressuring everyone to work overtime even through sick days and family emergencies. Most infuriatingly, though, no one has ever dared to go against him - until now, that is.

AKA blackmailed boss!sub!Yunho x sadistic!dom!f!reader

Word count: 5 505

Warnings: While I made it obvious multiple times that this is all roleplay, I still want to give a huge warning for !!!!!CNC!!!!!, blackmailing, forced feminization, pegging, taking photos during sex, crying, begging and just resisting in general (though Yunho is just pretending obv), blowjobs (f rec), Yunho gets slapped once, checking in on each other mid-scene, some pretty dark dialogue (esp at the end)

A/N: This fic is the fifth part of my sub!Yunho Kinktober 2024! The event's masterlist can be found here.

"So you're absolutely, totally, one hundred percent sure you want to do this?"

"I've only told you like fifty times but yes, I am definitely, completely, one thousand percent sure."

"And you'll tell me if you want to stop?"

"Just like you'll tell me if you want to stop."

"Alright, then. See you next Friday, 'boss'."

You were sitting in your office, checking various reports and scheduling meetings for next week as usual. As Mr. Jeong's secretary, you had your own office instead of sharing a cubicle with other employees. It didn't stop you from chatting with them during lunch break, however, which led you to some very interesting information.

Contrary to your initial belief, it wasn't just you who your boss decided to be extra stern towards. As you quickly realized, the entire department was permanently overworked and underpaid, all thanks to the one man at the top. And the most infuriating thing about it all? No one dared to stand up against him. Even if they were living off 3 hours of sleep every day, even if they were denied holiday to visit their families in a dire situation, everyone just hung their heads low and obliged. The company had an incredible reputation, after all, and nobody wanted to lose a chance to write it down in their resume during their next hunt for a job. And even if someone did decide to stand up for themselves, all it took was the smallest, vaguest threat from Mr. Jeong about how other hiring companies would hear about this behavior and all protests would immediately cease.

There was nothing you could do about it, either. All you could do was just watch on as the bullying went on, shaking your head in quiet disappointment.

Until you'd also been wronged by your boss.

"What do you mean, 'paid overtime'?" Mr. Jeong mocked you right to your face. "What you call overtime, I call the bare minimum, sweetheart. I don't care if your mother is sick or your rent is past due, you only get paid for the work you've done, no charity. If you think this is too much for you, feel free to leave anytime. Don't expect to be hired anywhere else, though, every reputable company around here would love to hear my opinion on your performance before hiring you."

You were stunned, rage quietly boiling within at the audacity of the asshole in front of you. Every day for the past month and a half, because of his impossible demands, you'd been working two to four hours extra just to meet each deadline. You barely had time to sleep, let alone actually live your own life and talk to friends and family, and this is how he decided to treat you?

"Glad we settled that, then. Now go make yourself useful and bring me those copies from yesterday's meeting, will you?"

That day, you decided that your boss, Mr. Jeong Yunho himself, would pay dearly; both for what he'd done to you and to the other workers.

For the next three weeks, you dug through every file and article you could find in the office and online, desperately searching for anything big you could use against him. And, by some miracle, you found one. A real big one, in fact.

This was it. You had him in the palm of your hand, even if he didn't know it yet.

A knock came at your door, making you look up from the report you were currently working on.

"I expect to hear a very good reason for coming here right this instant, Miss L/N," was the first thing he said as he walked into the room, visibly angered. God forbid he had to approach someone for once instead of everyone crawling to him.

"Oh, don't worry Mr. Jeong, I'm sure you'll find what I'm about to tell you very interesting," you smirked as you spoke, gesturing for him to sit down on the small couch near your desk.

"Get to it then, darling, I really don't have time for this," Mr. Jeong commanded, yet again slipping a condescending pet name in to try and throw you off. Typical.

It wasn't you who was surprised, however, when you suddenly stood up, walked over to the door, and locked it. "Be patient, Jeong. If you don't want to fuck up any more than you already have, I suggest you behave yourself."

His mouth hung open, fully taken aback by this new attitude of yours. Perhaps you had a death wish, speaking to him like that, or maybe, you had just gone completely insane. Either way, he was excited to show you why you should never, ever, do that again.

But before he could say anything, you were already back at your desk, turning your laptop to face him.

"As your hard-working and thorough secretary, I've gone back on some reports and files from this year, and you'll never believe what I found!" You said with fake excitement, eyes shining. "If you look really closely, you can see each worker's salary, and then here is the amount of money they should have actually been given each month according to the government-mandated minimum wage. Care to explain why those numbers are vastly different and why none of us were notified about a raise in salary, Mr. Jeong?"

Yunho's eyes widened as he scanned the document, recognizing the spreadsheet he'd secretly made for himself to keep track of all the cuts he'd been taking from everyone's salaries. He could have sworn he'd kept the file fully private, likely even password-protected, yet, somehow, you'd managed to get your hands on it.

"Why are you- how did you get that?!" He finally said, trying to suppress the sudden anxiety churning his stomach. "Those are private files and you have no right to be looking through them! Go pack your things immediately, because you are fired - and I'm being very merciful with that decision."

"Oh, if only it was that simple, Jeong," you replied cunningly. "You can fire me all you want, but once these files go public, your reputation, company, and maybe even life will be over, I'm afraid. And we wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Yunho gritted his teeth, looking down as he considered his options.

"...Alright. What do you want me to do?"

Despite your best efforts, you barked out a laugh at his question, too amused by the cold facade he was still fighting so hard to keep. "There we go, finally on the right path! You're not the one making demands here, Jeong, I am. If you want to preserve everything you've managed to build so far, you better start listening to me and me only."

Yunho let out a deep, frustrated sigh, refusing to admit you were right. If any of this information were to get out into the public, his entire professional life would be over in an instant. Just as you'd said, he was completely at your mercy right now.

"Well, what do you want then? Money? A promotion? A transfer to a different company? What?"

"Strip."

...

Yunho's entire world paused the second you'd said it, freezing him in place. He had to have heard you wrong, right? There was simply no way you could have said something like that to someone like him.

"W-what?"

You let out a sigh yourself, frustrated with how uncooperative your superior was being. This was the guy demanding Herculean tasks from his subordinates on a daily basis?

"I said strip, Jeong."

His breath hitched at your angry tone, chest tightening to an almost painful degree.

"Y-you can't be serious, there's no way that-"

"What part of 'I can ruin your entire career in seconds' did you not understand?" You spat, sending a shiver down Yunho's spine. "The company or your pride, your choice."

A heavy silence hung in the air for an uncomfortably long time, turning Yunho's cheeks a deep red. He didn't know what was worse - the fact he was actually considering doing it or the fact that you knew he was considering it, judging by his lack of a response.

"...How much?"

You looked at him in confusion, swinging one leg over the other before leaning closer to his nervous form. He was clearly nervous, playing with his fingers, one leg bouncing up and down.

"'How much' what?" You finally asked back.

"How much do I have to take off?"

You snorted at the question, making him look up into your eyes. "What do you think, Jeong? Just stand up and start undressing; I'll tell you when to stop."

Yunho gulped at your words, eyes shaking. Never in your years of dating had he seen such a cold, sadistic expression on your face. Somehow, it was both incredibly intimidating and extremely arousing.

Trying his best to ignore his trembling hands, he stood up on two weak legs and reached for his suit jacket. A whimper threatened to spill past his lips as he finally undid the first button, feeling like he could just break down and cry right now from the overwhelming humiliation.

"Oh my god," you marveled, leaning back to enjoy the show, "you're actually doing it! And here I was worried I'd have to threaten you with something even bigger, yet all it took was a few words and you're already doing whatever I say."

"You know very well it's not just a 'few words'!" Yunho hissed indignantly. "If my entire future didn't depend on this, I would never-"

"Shut the fuck up and do as you're told before I get angry, Jeong," you growled back, making him immediately back down again. His hands were visibly shaking now, eliciting a few quiet curses from him as he struggled with the remaining button.

At last, he was able to get the garment off, looking at you to see if he could stop now. But your expression remained stoic, leaving him with no other choice.

Tears of humiliation stung in his eyes as he began working on his shirt but he bit them back, absolutely refusing to cry in front of you. Soon, the shirt joined his discarded suit jacket on the floor.

"Wow," you said appreciatively, unabashedly ogling his chest. "Who would have thought the office asshole had such nice tits. This is even more fun than I had imagined."

It took every ounce of willpower in him not to react to your comment, desperately wanting to but knowing it would just make everything so much worse.

"What are you waiting for?" You asked impatiently. "I didn't say you could stop yet, did I?"

"Miss L/N, you can't possibly be serious-"

"What would your family think if they found out how you treat your employees? Your father is a reputable business owner himself, isn't he?"

"I- well, yes, but- fuck," Yunho muttered to himself, trying not to let the growing despair take over. His pristinely ironed pants pooled around his feet before he stepped out of them and gave you one more hopeful look. When he was met with nothing, he sighed, taking off his socks as well before looking up again. Surely, this had to be enough, right? Right?

Silence.

Yunho's hands shook at the realization of what the silence implied, unable to bring himself to remove the last piece of clothing he still had on. Your gaze on him was unwavering, watching his every move and expression like a hawk ready to swoop in.

Which is why you also noticed the signs of genuine anxiety in him very quickly.

"What's your color, Jeong?" You asked as neutrally as you could, not wanting to fully break the scene but still wanting to check in on him.

"Green, it's green, I just-" Yunho took a deep, shaky breath, balling his fists by his sides, "I just can't get my hands to listen to me, I'm sorry."

"Listen, Jeong," you began, standing up to approach your shaking lover. "I'm going to be very generous right now and take it off for you, okay? But you can't expect me to help you with everything you're the one in trouble. Understood?"

Yunho gave you a quick, thankful nod, lips pressed into a thin line as he watched your fingers slip under the waistband of his underwear. Then, in one swift motion, you tugged the garment down, leaving him completely bare in front of you.

"There you go," you whispered softly, stepping back to admire the view. Yunho's hands did their best to cover himself but it was not exactly effective, considering your amused face. "What? Feeling shy? Don't worry, sweetheart, I have just the clothes for you."

Yunho was confused by the sudden, surprisingly nice gesture until he saw the clothes in question.

"Go on," you encouraged, shoving the clothes into his arms, "make yourself pretty."

A tear rolled down his eye as he looked at the mix of pink and white, but he quickly turned away and wiped it off, still trying to keep some semblance of dignity.

"Now, Jeong," you began, back in your office chair, one leg crossed over the other, "I'm going to give you a choice. I'm afraid you have no say in what's going to happen next, but you can decide how it will go. Do you want it the easy way, or the hard way, hm?"

Yunho meekly sat on the couch, keeping his hands in his lap to prevent the pink skirt from riding up even higher than it already had. The white thigh highs on his legs didn't do much to keep him warm, sending small shivers up his spine.

"The easy way, please."

"Good boy," you praised him, though there was no actual warmth to your words. "Close your eyes and don't open them until I say so."

Yunho complied, feeling like this was one of the simpler tasks you could have given him, yet it also gave him no clue as to what to expect. He didn't dare think about what might happen, fearing you were going to subvert his expectations anyway.

And subvert them you did.

"Open, Jeong."

Yunho's mouth hung agape as he looked at your hips, fully bare save for the leather harness secured around them. What stood out even more to him, though, and quite literally at that, was the silicone cock fastened to said harness.

"Come over here and get on your knees, if you'd be so kind."

Yunho was yet again frozen solid, unable to process what he was seeing. "I-I'm sorry, but have you gone absolutely insane?"

You chuckled at his incredulous tone, taking a step toward him. "Oh? I thought you just said you wanted to do this the easy way, what's with the attitude?"

"I don't know if you forgot who the fuck I am, L/N," Yunho gritted through his teeth, leaning forward to try and match your tone, "but you better snap out of this power trip right now or-"

"Or what?!" You finally snapped, startling the man back into his seat. "What are you going to do, Jeong? Lose your entire career because you were too proud to be under someone for once? Is that what matters to you the most?"

Yunho panted as he looked at you with nothing but disdain.

Letting out a sigh, you gestured back to your laptop, clicking over to the next tab in your browser. "Since you couldn't play nice, let me up the ante a bit. If you look over here, you can see a few emails that are ready to be sent at any minute. A lot of them, in fact. Wanna know who they're addressed to?"

He stayed silent, refusing to play your disgusting games.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you anyway," you grinned, scrolling down the list. "Here we have each of your family members, every single employee in your company, your 20 biggest competitors, journalists, workplace inspectors, and a few dozen more big contacts. With a single click, they'll all learn the truth within minutes, evidence included."

Yunho's face fell at the sight. "Y-Y/N, Miss Y/N, please..."

"Begging won't change my mind, Jeong," you spat, leaving the tab open as you walked back in front of him, "but actions just might."

Tears once again threatened to spill past his eyes, throat squeezing uncomfortably tight as he suppressed them. He couldn't cry. Not like this, not in front of you.

Swallowing back a whimper, Yunho slowly shuffled forward, all the way to the edge of the couch, before sinking down to the floor. You watched on with a satisfied smirk, lips curling even further up as his eyes met the fake cock in front of him again.

Oh god, he was really going to do this.

Trying to keep his hands as steady as possible, he reached for the strap-on, feeling it under his fingertips before wrapping a hand around the base. Angling the tip to his mouth, Yunho closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh before finally diving forward.

You stared at him in awe as his lips wrapped around the sizable tip, brows furrowing while he tried to push deeper. "There you go, good boy," you praised in a sickly sweet tone, resting one of your hands in his hair. His other hand that wasn't gripping the base of your cock fisted his skirt instead, likely trying to keep his gag reflex at bay while he sunk further down.

When his lips met his own fist, he let his throat rest for a bit, trying to breathe as best as he could despite the big piece of silicone in his mouth. After a few long, uncomfortable seconds, he decided to start moving again, giving a few experimental bobs with his head. On the fourth one, though, he audibly gagged, throat spasming while he quickly dove back up for air. You silently watched as he coughed and gasped for air, leaning to the side with his palms against the floor.

Once he got his breathing under control again, he looked up at you, meeting your gaze for the first time in a while. You smiled back down at him, a genuine smile this time, and used the opportunity to mouth a quick "All good?" to him. His eyes sparkled in excitement as he happily nodded back, calming any potential worries.

A quick tug at his hair was all it took for him to snap back into the scene.

"Did I say you could stop, Jeong? We haven't even gotten to the main course yet."

Just as Yunho began asking what you meant by that, he was shoved back onto the dildo, giving him no more than a second to prepare. You slid back into his mouth with ease, not too deep to make him choke, but deep enough to get his attention again. "Or do I have to show you another incentive to keep going?"

With a small grunt, Yunho shook his head as best as he could given his position and got back to work. He made sure you saw as he diligently sucked on the tip, swirling his tongue around it before pushing further down. If he had no choice but to do this, he might as well get it over with. Soon enough, he could almost take the whole thing in his mouth. You caressed his hair gently, a small show of praise that wouldn't break the scene too much.

The hand in his hair quickly turned more domineering, however, as you suddenly tightly clutched the strands, warning him of what was likely to come.

His prediction turned out to be spot-on as you began to pull him back up by his hair, only to push him back down again and start all over. Yunho could do nothing but let you move him as you wanted, desperately willing his lungs and throat to calm down so that he wouldn't choke again. Or too badly, at least.

Small, wet sounds filled the room as you moved him up and down on the strap-on, using both hands now to steady his head while you picked up the pace. A tear or two rolled down his cheeks this time, but you knew it was no reason to celebrate just yet. These were just a natural response to you fucking his throat, not a sign of you actually breaking him.

That would have to come later, it seemed.

"On the couch," you ordered curtly, pulling him off you at once. He was left hunched over, face bright red and lungs heaving for air.

Once your words finally registered for him, he willed his limbs to move again, crawling up on the couch. You wasted no time with him anymore, manhandling him into the desired position.

As much as he hated to admit it, Yunho's fight was faltering. His tightly clenched jaw had relaxed, giving way to the tired pants leaving his body. All snarky remarks and threats were long gone, his head too much of a muddy mess to come up with anything smart to say. You could feel it too, how much more pliant he'd grown under your touch, letting you press his upper half into the couch cushions.

When he heard the click of a bottle cap opening, some of that fight rushed back, only to leave just as quickly with a single reminder from you about what was at stake for him.

Yunho let out a quiet grunt as a finger breached him from behind, still hell-bent on hiding his reactions from you. He knew you'd revel in it, in every moan and beg and whimper, which is exactly why he could never give any of it to you. Until that dam broke, he could pretend he still had some dignity left.

"I advise you to relax as much as you can, Jeong," you spoke softly, burying your finger inside of him to the last knuckle before pulling back again, "otherwise this is going to hurt quite a bit."

"You're sick," Yunho spat back but quickly shut up again as you pressed in a second finger, causing a whine to almost push past his lips.

"So? What are you gonna do about it?" You asked back. The satisfaction within you only grew when he had nothing to say to that, too scared to admit the truth.

So far, Yunho was faring quite well. The biggest sign of this having even the slightest effect on him was how hard he was gripping the couch cushions, but that was about it. And it was exactly because of that that you began to grow bored.

Time to make him speak up.

Curling your fingers, you began angling your hand this way and that way, until-

"Fuck!" Yunho cried out, involuntarily clenching around your hand. You watched as his thighs quivered and his back arched, trying to simultaneously push back against you and fight the urge to do so at all costs.

"What was that?" You taunted, focusing on that specific spot you'd found while your other hand roamed along his hip. "Is someone starting to enjoy themselves? And here I thought I was the sick one?"

"Shut- ah! Shut the fuck up!" Yunho moaned out, eyes tightly shut as he tried to fight the onslaught of pleasure. He knew he couldn't help it, that it was just his body's natural reaction to being stimulated, and yet, he couldn't help but feel betrayed by it as well. He fought so hard to keep any and all noises at bay, only to then completely crumble without any say in the matter.

Then, without warning, your fingers pulled out of him, leaving him empty and clenching around nothing. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to get up, to run far away from whatever the fuck this was, yet his mind knew very well it would be of no use. Not when your hand was back on his hip again, bringing his ass closer as you poured more lube over his hole.

"Hmm, no, this won't do," you thought out loud, looking at the way Yunho was presenting for you.

In the blink of an eye, he was flipped on his back, legs forced apart to accommodate you between them. Your strap was now peeking at him from behind his own half-hard cock, making his cheeks heat up. How was that thing bigger than he was? Moreover, what the hell were you planning to do with it?

"Say cheese!"

A bright light flashed into Yunho's eyes, making them squint in discomfort. When they managed to refocus, however, he was met with a sight somehow even more horrifying than all the evidence on your laptop.

A camera.

You were holding a camera and taking photos of him with it. Photos of him in a state like this.

"W-what are you- what?" Yunho stumbled out, voice laced with genuine horror.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Jeong?" You asked back, flipping his skirt up to show his prepped and needy hole. Another click and a flash of light.

The third snap finally managed to break him out of his trance, and his hand immediately shot up to grab your wrist.

"Ow! What the-" You hissed out in pain, almost dropping the camera to the ground. "That shit's expensive, you idiot!"

Yunho either didn't hear your words or simply ignored them, too busy trying to wrestle the camera from your hand. Doing sexual favors for you to save his business was one thing, he was already too deep in to stop that, but this? Oh, no, no no no, he was not going to just let you get even more dirt on him. Sure, he might have sold his body today to try and save his career, but he was NOT letting you trap him into a vicious cycle of blackmailing. He knew exactly how these things went, he knew you wouldn't be satisfied with just today, he knew you'd just keep demanding more and more from him and that-

A sharp sting dug into his cheek, the force of the slap turning his head to the side.

"I fucking told you to let go!"

The tight grip on your wrist eased up as you broke Yunho out of his spiral, preventing him from getting too deep into whatever inner chaos he tried to enter. His confused eyes met yours, studying your stern expression for a moment before he settled back into the scene, giving you a small nod as a sign to keep going.

"Before you try any of that shit again, I'll have you know that all of the photos I take on this are automatically backed up on my laptop. Breaking it does nothing except piss me off even further, and I don't think you want that, sweetheart."

Your hand slid up to grab his face, squishing his cheeks together.

"Now just accept your fate and let me take my pictures, hm? I don't think you want these to end up on the news tomorrow."

Yunho had no words left. No matter how his mind tried to twist this, there was no lie left that would convince him he had any sort of upper hand in this scenario. From the moment he walked into your office, his fate was sealed. Unlike everywhere else in his life, he didn't hold any power here. No amount of threats or intimidation could ever get him out of your grasp unless you yourself decided to let him go. He was yours to do with as you pleased.

All of those thoughts swirled around in his head as he lay under you, dressed like a girl, his entire body on display while you took as many photos as you wanted. He almost started to leave his body for a second, feeling too helpless to stay present in the moment any longer, but the feeling of cold, wet silicone pressing against him stopped him from doing so.

"Please..." Yunho said so quietly you almost didn't hear it, but it made you smile nonetheless.

"Please what, Jeong?"

Yunho took a deep breath but choked on it midway through as, finally, the first real tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Please don't do this, please."

Your pupils blew wide open at the sight before you, feeling a sudden high you'd never felt before. He - your boyfriend, the man everyone knew as a strong, independent, reliable guy, was now crying under you, lips trembling as he begged with a wobbly voice. Thanks to all the reassurances throughout the scene and the obvious hard-on between his legs, you didn't have to worry about his comfort or safety, letting you truly focus on the mental rush you were currently experiencing. The insane amount of trust between you felt almost palpable in that moment, an indescribable wave of tenderness so twisted yet so sweet it was almost overwhelming.

"Just let it happen, Jeong," you finally breathed out, eyes lidded as you reached down between the two of you. "Just let go and take it."

Yunho let out a watery whimper as you finally breached him with your strap, not caring to hide his noises anymore. He had nothing more to lose, after all.

The atmosphere shifted into something more quiet and subdued, yet simultaneously a thousand times more intense. Just like him, you had no more condescending comments and mean remarks left in you as everything had already been said.

Yunho was yours for the taking, and take you did.

With each snap of your hips, you pushed him further into that soft, pliant headspace of his. You could feel his muscles relax, going almost limp from the rush of it all. There was nothing in his head anymore, nothing but the physical sensations you were providing. More tears escaped his eyes as you leaned closer, hitting that sweet spot inside him with even more precision. Yunho rewarded each jab at his prostate with a small, punched-out noise, too hazy for anything more than that.

You watched his hips buck up when you wrapped your free hand around him, the other pulling him towards your thrusts by his hip. His breath hitched at the sensation, face scrunching up as you began to stroke up and down.

"Ready to cum, babe?" You whispered tenderly, causing him to open his eyes again.

"Yes, please," Yunho sniffled weakly, reaching up to grasp your shoulders for support.

Getting your sweet boyfriend over that imaginary edge took no more than two minutes after that, already too pent up from everything up until now to hold it any longer. You held him close as he seized up, chest arching into yours while he spilled into your hand.

You reached behind you for the tissue box on your side table, careful not to jostle Yunho around too much. He wrapped his legs around your waist, feeling too tender and small to let you go.

"Don't worry hun, I'm not going anywhere," you comforted him as you turned back around. You quickly wiped your dirty hand with one of the tissues before leaning forward and dabbing his tears away with another one. Handing him a third one, you helped him lift his head up to blow his nose before throwing all three tissues into a nearby bin.

As much as you wanted to debrief with him right then and there to make sure he really enjoyed himself, one look into his eyes assured you he was nowhere near ready for that right now. He looked content and comfortable, sure, but his eyes were still too distant for any complicated discussions and introspections.

So, you simply asked him what to do next.

"Can we just cuddle for a bit?" Yunho asked meekly, a small pout on his face as he extended his arms out for a hug. "We can clean up and talk after, but I just really need you right now."

You took him up on his offer with zero hesitation, snuggling into his embrace as close as you could. The position was a bit awkward from your position, given you were still lodged inside of him, but oh well.

A few minutes of curling up with your precious love bug never hurt anyone.

taglist: @justconniez @domribo @another-random-fanfic-blog @imrllytootiredforthis

Thank you for reading! And remember, feedback is always very appreciated! <3

[justagalwhowrites]

Nobody's Soldier

As a FEDRA officer, you really shouldn't be friends with Tommy Miller. But as you both struggle to survive in the QZ, that doesn't seem to make a difference.

Pairing: Tommy Miller x Female FEDRA Officer Reader

Warnings: SMUT! Unprotected P in V sex, breeding kink if you squint, oral sex (f receiving), mention of just all the shit that goes with surviving in a QZ, No use of Y/N, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 6k

A/N: I kept thinking about this idea after hearing Hozier's latest so... I wrote it. I hope you like it!

Main Masterlist

It was well past curfew when you got to Tommy Miller’s apartment but that didn’t matter. At least, not for you. FEDRA officers didn’t have to worry about things like curfew. 

You pounded on the door, thankful for the sound of rain and thunder covering the noise, fist meeting the wood again and again until he opened it. 

“Well hi there GI Jane,” he said, looking damn near cocky as he leaned against the doorframe. “What can I do for FEDRA’s finest this evening?” 

“Fuck off, Miller,” you snapped, pushing past him and into his dingy apartment, pulling off your wet hat and dropping it on the beat up table just inside the door before you started pacing. It didn’t take long to cross the combined living room and kitchen, hands in fists at your sides. 

“Somethin’ on your mind there?” Tommy teased, closing the door and watching you pace. You glared at him, at the smug expression on his stupidly handsome face. But the look slipped, his chocolate brown eyes softening, his hands going into his pockets. “Sorry, not tryin’ to make fun if there’s something actually going on. Talk to me, honey.” 

You walked the length of the room one more time, eyes darting toward Tommy as you did before stopping near the table, arms crossed over your chest, trying to decide if you could do this. If you could really do this. 

It felt like you could. If you believed this feeling you got whenever you were anywhere near him, you would do just about anything for him. 

You’d known Tommy and his older brother, Joel, for years now. It hadn’t been on purpose, of course. No one in your position would seek out a connection with the Miller brothers on purpose. But you’d been patrolling the night you met them, when they were coming back from a run and you found them, scrambling below the fence, Joel with blood dripping from his leg. 

“Fuck,” Tess, their smuggling partner said, putting her hands up when your flashlight beam fell on them. 

You’d expected Tess and Tommy to take off, to leave the man who was bleeding and limping for you to contend with and save themselves. But they didn’t. Tess stood her ground, her chin defiant and held high, and Tommy stepped between you and his brother, his hands up, too. 

“Know you’re just doin’ your job,” he said. “We don’t want to cause any trouble. We got plenty of pills that you can have if you just forget this ever happened.” 

You frowned, looking between him and Tess. 

“I don’t want your fucking pills…”

“Cards, then,” Tess said, cutting you off. “We can also get you cigarettes, liquor…” 

You rolled your eyes and Tommy seemed to realize then that bribing you wasn’t going to get them far. He’d always seen you clearly, even from that first meeting he saw you.

“We’re just tryin’ to make a living,” he said quietly. “Life’s hard here. You know that. C’mon, GI Jane. Can’t you just… let us go?” 

You looked at him for a moment. You hated this part of the job, the one where you were supposed to turn in people who were just trying to survive the end of the world. It’s not like they were raping or murdering or even, from what you could see, running some sort of gang. Turning them in wouldn’t help anyone. And there was something about the man in front of you, something about the softness in his brown eyes and the kindness in his face. 

“Keep your hands up,” you said, lowering your gun and taking out your scanner. You checked each of them. Unauthorized exit but no sign of infection. You didn’t give a shit about the unauthorized exit part. You sighed and put the scanner away. 

“You’re cutting it awful fucking close on curfew,” you said, grabbing a note pad and writing a pass to get the elder Miller in at the clinic without too many questions. You handed it to Tommy. “Get him to a doctor and try to get off the streets before someone fucking arrests you.” 

He smiled, taking the note, looking you up and down as he did. 

“Thanks,” he said. “Appreciate it.” 

It was your first run in with the three of them but not your last. It wasn’t always sneaking out or back in. Sometimes, it was some brawl that your unit got called in to break up. Others, it was them in unauthorized areas. Once, it was because they were in lock up when you came by to drop off actual dangerous people. Every time, it pissed you off. Every time, you knew Tommy was better than this. He was oddly optimistic for a person who’d survived the end of the world, something about him giving you hope for this dying species. Every time you saw him in some compromising position, you worried it would be the last time, that he’d get himself killed doing something reckless and stupid when you weren’t there to bail him out. 

Eventually, you got sick of them cutting it too close for comfort and showed up at Tommy and Joel’s door, much like you had tonight, knocking until Tommy answered. 

“Hey,” he frowned when he saw you. “What…” 

You shoved a piece of paper with your work schedule into his hands. 

“Don’t try to come and go from the QZ outside of these times,” you snapped. “I can’t fucking cover for you if I’m not there to do it and they’re going to crack down eventually and I don’t want to see you in lock up for the rest of your life. Got it?” 

He looked down, reading the paper, a slow smile spreading across his face before looking back at you. 

“You’re worried about me,” he smirked. 

“Don’t read into it,” you rolled your eyes, turning to go. But he caught your wrist, stopping you. You frowned, looking down at his fingers around your arm before looking back at him. “What?” 

“Thank you,” he said, those damn eyes of his all soft and earnest. “You’re probably saving my life and my brother’s life, too.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “Try not to blow it, OK?” 

His eyes drifted to your lips for a moment before finding yours again. 

“OK.” 

There started to be more formal lines of communication then, the two of you meeting in secret a few times a month to exchange information. Eventually, it became more than that. There were the intimate touches - your hand on his bicep or his on the small of your back. Tommy started to bring you little gifts, things he thought you’d enjoy from the outside - books, CDs, a set of colored pencils, a bottle of wine. 

“I dunno if we should keep doing this,” he said one day, quietly, as the two of you stood in an alcove in part of the QZ that FEDRA had largely given up on. You always ditched your uniform before going to meet him. That day, it was late July and the heat oppressive, leaving you in a tank top with a loose skirt so you wouldn’t sweat to death. 

“If you mean you should stop risking your life for ration cards, we’re in agreement,” you said wryly. 

He glared at you. 

“I mean,” he said. “I’m worried I’m gonna get you into trouble.” 

“Tommy…” 

“Don’t act like I’m crazy for thinkin’ it,” he cut you off. “They catch you colluding with me? They’ll kill you.” 

“Please,” you waved him off. “Guards buy from smugglers all the time, it’s not like…” 

“I’m not just smuggling anymore,” he said. “I’m tryin’… I’m tryin’ to do the right thing for the QZ. For…” his voice trailed off, looking you up and down before casting his eyes to the ground. “For everyone. I get caught, they find out you’re involved? They’ll kill you.” 

You frowned, everything taking a moment to click. 

“You’re a fucking Firefly.” You didn’t ask it. You didn’t need to. But the look on his face when he raised his eyes to yours told you that you were right. “Goddammit, Miller! What the fuck are you thinking? You know they don’t have a shot in hell at doing anything worthwhile! FEDRA is a fact of life at this point, just like cordyceps, just like the shit rations, just like the sun fucking rising and the seasons changing! You’re just going to get yourself killed and for what? For some fantasy world that’s impossible? You can’t just do that! Your life is worth so much more than that, you’re worth so much more than that I’m not going to just let you…” 

He cut you off with a kiss, backing you into the wall behind you but catching your head with his large hand before it smacked into the brick. You kissed him back, your arms going around his neck, pulling him close and tight as his tongue dipped into your mouth. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he devoured you and his hand ran down your body to your ass, your thigh, fingers sinking into the thick of your leg to hitch you up and over his hip as he ground himself against your already aching center. You groaned into his mouth at the feel of him, hard against your sex and you rolled your hips against him, finally giving into the heat of want that had been rising for him for the years you’d known him. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, pulling back from you enough to speak but keeping his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes searching your own. “Can I…” 

“Do whatever you want,” you panted, desperate to kiss him again. “I don’t care, I just want you, I…” 

He didn’t give you a chance to finish, kissing you again, pressing you harder against that brick wall before reaching between the two of you to free his cock and shove your panties to the side and then he was in you, the thick heft of him forcing your walls apart sharp and hard, stretching you open and easing the ache inside. 

Tommy moaned and stilled when fully sheathed in you, panting into your mouth as your body adjusted to the size of him. 

“Goddamn you feel good,” he said, pressing himself deep, making your breath hitch. “Fuck, so fucking good.” 

He kissed you again before fucking into you hard, fast, urgent. It was heady, intense, but you knew it had to go quick, you were exposed here, just one idiot turning down the wrong alley and you’d be discovered. 

That, though, just seemed to add to the thrill. The leg that he’d tugged over his hip tightened around him and he grunted as he thrust into you again and again and you rocked your hips against him, working your clit against his pubic bone, trying to take him as deep as possible with every forceful stroke. 

Your orgasm built fast, your cunt growing tighter and tighter around him until it became too much and you burst with it, all the heat inside you shooting out from your core and into the rest of you as your pussy pulsed around him. You cried out with it, not caring that you were exposed and in the QZ and that you were a FEDRA officer and he was a Firefly. All you cared about was him, how he was filling you, how he was making you feel more like yourself than you had since the world had ended more than a decade earlier. 

“Fuck, gonna come,” he managed, fucking you through your orgasm, his motions becoming harsher, more clumsy as his own climax drew closer. “Gonna fill you up so good, honey, fuck!” 

You didn’t have a chance to respond before you felt his orgasm take him, his cock shoved deep, the heavy throbs of his pleasure spilling into you hot and thick. You went limp in his arms as you took it, back against the brick, his head against your shoulder as he panted for breath and his orgasm started to ease. 

You stayed like that for a minute, his cock starting to soften inside you, the thud of your heart heavy in your ears. 

“Fuck,” he said again, not filled with passion but loaded with realization. He straightened, still a little breathless, and looked at you, cupping your cheek gently and still buried inside you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” 

“It’s OK,” you said quickly, still a little breathless yourself. “My period is due any day now, it’s fine…” 

He nodded, still looking at you for a moment before slowly, gently, pulling himself from your body. He tucked himself away and adjusted your panties before making sure both of your feet were back on the ground and stepping back from you. 

“We shouldn’t do that again,” he said quietly, still watching you. “We… we shouldn’t see each other at all. Not now that I’m…” 

“A terrorist?” You asked, brows raised, remembering why you’d been mad at him just a few minutes earlier. 

“Fightin’ FEDRA,” he said. “I can’t… I can’t let you go down with me for this, honey. I can’t.” 

“And I’m, what, supposed to let you face this shit alone?” You asked. “I’m supposed to sit back and watch you get yourself killed?” 

He sighed and shook his head, picking his pack up from the ground before going to respond but you didn’t let him. 

“I’ll deal with the risk,” you snapped. “And we can keep our distance from each other but Tommy? I’m not letting you just get yourself killed. I’d appreciate if we worked together on that.” 

He looked at the ground and nodded slowly before meeting your eyes again. 

“Gotta promise me one thing,” he said. 

“What.” 

“Promise that if I tell you to get out or to stay away? You do it,” he said. You went to argue but he cut you off. “I mean it, honey. I’m not letting you get hurt for me. I can’t do that. I won’t.” 

You ground your teeth. 

“Fine,” you said eventually. 

He nodded again. 

“Good,” he said, turning to leave but stopping before he did. “Oh, I uh… I almost forgot…” 

He went into his pack and pulled out a small bundle of wildflowers, their cut stems wrapped in wet paper to keep them alive. 

“Saw these outside,” he said, holding them out. An offering. “Thought of you.” 

You took them, delicately tracing the soft petals. It was hard to believe there was something like this that still existed in the world, that it was still able to grow in the destruction you knew lay just outside the walls of the QZ. His hand found your elbow, holding you gently before pressing his lips to your cheek. 

“Take care of yourself, honey,” he said softly. 

You took a deep breath, still looking at the flowers, trying to keep the pinch of tears at the back of your throat from your voice. 

“You, too,” you said, looking up. But he was gone and you walked home with his come leaking from between your thighs and his flowers in your hands, hoping it wasn’t the last time you’d ever see him. 

It was a few months before you saw him again, when he sought you out because he knew that what he was doing was risky and he wanted to see if there was a way to do it under FEDRA’s nose. You helped him as best you could, both of you straining to keep an emotional and physical distance that felt almost panful now that you’d had a taste of what could be possible. But it worked, and the two of you figured out a new, tenuous structure to your relationship after that. You did your best to avoid what you both knew was right in front of you, what you both knew was impossible as long as you were a tool of the state and Tommy was fighting against it. But you couldn’t avoid him, seeking him out as often as you seemed to find a reason to, Tommy doing the same, always finding little reasons to touch each other, stand a little too close together, pass a cup of whiskey back and forth so it was almost like your lips were touching through the glass. 

Six months ago, though, Tommy had sought you out much like you had found him tonight, pulling you into an empty building as you walked home from a shift on guard, a job that was feeling worse and worse as the years wore on. 

His hand had clamped over your mouth to keep you from crying out when he grabbed you, pulling you back into his body. 

“Just me, GI Jane,” he said before you had a chance to really fight him. “You’re safe.” 

You jerked away from him all the same, peering out through a clouded window onto the dark street outside. You didn’t see anyone else. 

“Jesus, Miller, you trying to get yourself killed?” You snapped, adjusting your shirt from where it had gotten twisted against his body. 

“Sorry,” he said. “But I needed to talk to you.”

“And it couldn’t wait until our next meeting?” You asked, brows raised.

“Don’t know that I’ll still be here then,” he said and you froze, not even breathing. “The Fireflies… they’re sending me west.” 

“What?” You said quietly, watching him. 

“There’s a lab out that way,” he said. “They’re developing a cure, they want me to go help protect it.” 

“What? No,” you shook your head, heart racing. “No, you can’t, it’s too dangerous, it’s…” 

“S’why they need me to go, honey,” he said gently. “I’m pretty good at what I do, as it happens. They want my help out that way and, well… if I can be even a small part of fixin’ all this? I want to do it.” 

“Tommy…” 

“Come with me,” he said. You laughed but he shook his head. “I’m serious. Come.” 

“You want me, a FEDRA officer, to pick up and move across the country to be a Firefly,” you said, incredulous. “Sure, because they won’t just shoot me on sight when I show up at Boston HQ…” 

“I’ll vouch for you,” he said. “Come with me.” 

You sighed. 

“Tommy…” 

“It’s gotta be better than here,” he said. “Think about it, about what there could be for us out there. A place where we don’t gotta spend our days burning the dead or puttin’ people at gunpoint for breaking bullshit rules and…” 

“You really think there’s better than here out there?” You asked. “Look around, Tommy! The world ended, what, 15 years ago? And all that’s happened is more and more people get infected. More and more packs of raiders fighting to control shit. The closest thing we have to safety and the closest thing we have to a guarantee of making it to tomorrow is fucking FEDRA! You think I like this? That I like patrolling and arresting people and controlling shit like this? No! Of course I don’t! But I hear what it’s like out there and, what’s worse, I hear what it’s like in other QZs! There are executions and starvation and…” 

“You think we’re not headin’ that way here, too?” He demanded. “It’s not gonna get any better! Shit’s gonna get just as bad here and it won’t be long and I’m telling you… just come with me. I’ll take care of you, just… don’t ask me to leave you here. Please.” 

“Tommy…” 

“Please,” he said again, his voice cracking. “I can’t, I can’t just leave you here. I couldn’t do it, honey, I…” 

You cut him off before he said what you were afraid he was going to say. 

“I can’t watch you get yourself killed,” you said. “Don’t ask me to.” 

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll put off leaving as long as I can,” he said eventually. “But I’m telling you, we need to get out of here. We can’t stay here, not forever, not like this.” 

He walked you home, both of you keeping an eye out for anyone who might spot you together and make it a problem but it was quiet. When you got to your building, he looked around quickly and pulled you to him, holding your face and tilting you just so before kissing you, his lips soft, his skin warm. It was the first time you’d kissed since that day in the alley, a day that was years behind you but always so close in your mind.

“Tommy,” you breathed when he pulled back from you, his eyes searching yours. 

“I’m not leaving you here,” he said. “And if shit looks bad? Come find me. I’ll help you.” 

You watched him closely. 

“You, too,” you said and you felt his eyes on you until you were safely inside you apartment, your door locked behind you. 

His eyes were watching you like that now, all soft and open and concerned. 

“C’mon, honey,” he said again, coaxing. “You can talk to me.”

“I had to work an execution today,” you said, your voice cracking. “There were six people, Tommy. Six. All they did was break curfew a few too many times, because apparently that’s punishable by death now, and I had to stand there and make sure that no one stopped it and I can’t do this, I can’t support this, I…” 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, coming over and pulling you into his arms. He held you close, tucking your face into his shoulder and neck and you could smell the warm, comforting scent of him. Tommy had always been like that, like sunshine and fresh cut grass and wild flowers, like springtime made corporeal. “I’m so sorry, honey.” 

“This isn’t what I signed up for,” you said, choking up a little as you did. “When I joined, it was because it was this or doing who knows what to survive and they said this could help people. I wanted to help people, I didn’t want to kill them.” 

“I know,” he said, his voice velvet soft. “M’sorry.” 

You let him hold you for a while, soaking up the closeness with him that you knew you’d missed but hadn’t fully realized how much. Eventually, his hand stopped running the gentle path up and down your spine and came to cradle back of your head as he pulled back from you ever so slightly, his eyes searching yours. 

“I can’t keep being their soldier,” you whispered. “I can’t do it.” 

“You gonna let me help you, honey?” He asked gently. “Gonna let me get us out of here?” 

Your throat got tight, more tears tugging at you but you nodded, your eyes drifting to his mouth, to the soft plush of his lips below his mustache, your heart beating fast in the cage of your chest. You looked back to his eyes and saw your own feelings reflected in him, the want and care almost burning in his gaze. 

You kissed him then. You couldn’t seem to stop yourself, even if it wasn’t smart, even if you had so much more to figure out. He kissed you back, gentle at first but turning fierce and hungry quickly. But when you started tugging at his clothes, he stopped you, his large hands closing over your smaller ones to hold you still. You pulled back from him and frowned, concerned, but he didn’t give you a chance to ask. 

“We only did this once before and we didn’t get to do it right,” he said, his voice husky and his drawl thick. “Not makin’ that mistake again. Wanna take my time with you.” 

You just nodded and let him lead you to his bedroom. 

In another circumstance, you’d want to take a moment to appreciate that. The fact that you were here, with him, in his space with his things. You’d want to take a moment and see what he chose to surround himself with, to take in this part of him, too. But you weren’t able to focus enough on anything but Tommy enough to do that now and he didn’t give you much opportunity to. His mouth was on yours again quickly, unbuttoning your dark blue uniform shirt, pushing it down your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. You looked down when it did, the fabric a pool on the ground, the patch with your last name embroidered on it all but glaring at you. Tommy gently took your chin and turned your head to face him. 

“Never have to put that on again,” he said quietly. “You’re not theirs. You’re mine.” 

You just nodded and kissed him again, undressing him as he finished undressing you in return. Soon, he was bare against you and you felt him in a way you never had before, the last time so hurried you didn’t even get the pleasure of his skin. But you did now as he walked you slowly, gently back toward the bed and lowered you onto the mattress. You watched him with wide eyes, taking the chance to actually see and appreciate him like this and he stroked his cock as he watched you in return. He tilted your chin toward him and kissed you before reaching down and spreading your legs, making your breath hitch. He knelt between your open thighs, trailing wet, lingering kisses down your chest and stomach as he did. 

“Gonna do this right,” he said, licking his fingers before gently, almost reverently, opening your sex to him. He groaned at the sight before lightly circling your clit with his thumb. “Gonna take real good care of you.” 

He leaned forward and kissed the top of your slit, wetly mouthing at your swollen clit. You moaned and that just made him more eager, licking and teasing at you as a finger circled your entrance before pushing slowly, firmly inside. He ate at you like that, licking and sucking and savoring and enjoying as he worked you with his thick finger and you couldn’t help but fall back on your elbows, back arching as he did. 

Your orgasm was building fast, everything in you going molten and hot, drawing tight and low inside yourself, everything he was doing putting you just on the edge of your climax but not quite close enough to reach it. 

“Fuck, Tommy,” you groaned, grinding your hips against his face, wanton and wild, your pussy not quite full enough to come. “Fuck, please, I…” 

“You need more?” He asked, pulling his mouth away from your slit and replacing his roving tongue with his thumb on your clit as his index finger continued to work you from the inside. “You need more than this to come?” 

You nodded frantically and he pulled his hand from you, making you groan. But he pushed you further up the bed, keeping your legs open and kneeling between them, his fingers finding your dripping heat again quickly. 

“Don’t want you goin’ without,” he said, panting and hungry, two fingers inside you now. “My girl needs more, I’ll give her more, give her everything.” 

He hooked his fingers inside into the soft, spongy parts of you that made you gasp and your body tense, just on the edge of your orgasm, teetering at the edge. At the last second, he took his hand back again but, before you had a chance to protest, his cock was filling you deep and hard, making your back arch as his thumb found your clit again, working you in firm circles as your body stretched to take him. 

“That what you needed?” He asked, grinding himself deep inside. “That little pussy all nice and full of me now?” 

“Fuck!” You cried out, your orgasm all but slamming into you, your muscles throbbing so hard it almost hurt, your cunt straining to hold his thick length inside as you came around him. 

“Goddamn,” Tommy groaned, his cock buried in you to the hilt, pulling back ever so slightly before thrusting back in so hard it was like he was trying to disappear into you. “That’s it honey, you come for me, you make a mess of this fucking cock.” 

He didn’t wait for your orgasm to fully ease before he started fucking you, really fucking you. His hands found the soft flesh of your inner thighs, spreading you open as far as he could, his fingers sinking into you there as his length found every part of you inside. Every movement stretched you, more than anyone else you’d ever taken before, but you wanted it so bad it wasn’t painful, just overwhelming in the best way. You wanted your body to shift to take him, to shape itself to hold him the way you so desperately needed to. He was inside you, over you, the smell of him on his sheets - all warm and wild - around you. You wanted to take him into yourself and have him take you, to bind yourself to him in a way that was fierce and inextricable. 

Your body wanted it, too, your slick dripping down your thighs and his, your cunt growing tighter and tighter around him, this orgasm taking hold faster and stronger than your first. 

His hands ran over your thighs toward your center, his thumbs stroking your lips, finding your clit and toying with you for a moment before taking your hips and adjusting you so that your sensitive nub was pressed against him, making you groan. His hands ran up your sides, over your stomach and waist, cupping your breasts before he folded himself over you, his bare skin pressing against yours as he kissed you. You whimpered at the feel of him, so soft but firm, warm silk drawn tight over the muscular structure of him. He took your mouth the way he took your pussy, firm and desperate and commanding, his tongue twisting with yours like he was trying to occupy every part of you he could reach and driving your pussy even tighter. 

“Not gonna last long, you grippin’ me like that,” he panted, his pace not slowing as he kept fucking into you. “S’it OK if I come inside you? Fuck, honey, I need to come inside you.” 

“I’m not…” you closed your eyes, having a hard time focusing, a moan pulled from you as his cock hit just the right place inside you. “Fuck… I’m not on anything, you might…” 

That just seemed to make him fuck you harder, his body pressing yours deeper into the mattress. When you opened your eyes again, you found him looking back at you, gaze hungry and open and, in that moment, you didn’t care what happened next. Like the apocalypse didn’t exist, like you hadn’t spent the last decade and a half living through hell, like it was just you and Tommy and wherever this led, it led and it would be OK because you’d be together. 

“Come inside me,” you whispered, eyes on his, your body moving to meet his on every aching stroke. “Fuck, please, please come inside me.” 

He kissed you again, the tangle of your tongues and teeth wet and messy, your legs coming up to bracket his hips as he drove himself into you harder and faster and you arched into him. Your orgasm was so close you were buzzing with it, not able to hear anything but his heavy breaths and your own blood in your ears, but you wanted to come with him, wanted to fall apart to the feeling of him leaving part of himself behind in you. 

Then, he thrust deep and hard, holding himself there against that soft and tender part of you and you felt the heavy pulse of him inside as he moaned into your mouth. The throb of his come spilling against the most intimate part of you setting off your own orgasm, your pussy fluttering over him, pulling every ounce of his come from his body into your own until both of you went limp, his heady weight enveloping you. He buried his face in your neck, his breath hot on your skin as the two of you panted for breath and your hands trembled as they drifted over his back, trailing up and down his spine. 

Tommy pressed his lips into your shoulder, your throat, your jaw, his nose nuzzling into your cheek as he pulled himself from your body before he left for a minute, returning with a damp washcloth. He climbed between your legs and groaned, his thumb tracing your slit. 

“I’m leakin’ out of you,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “Goddamn, love seeing you full of me.” 

He pushed his come back into your still slightly gaping hole and you moaned. 

“Sorry this ain’t warm,” he said before pressing the washcloth to your skin and cleaning you gently. “Water heater died about two years back.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Can’t remember the last time I had a hot shower,” you said as he dropped the washcloth somewhere to the side of the bed and lay beside you, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at you as he trailed his long, thick fingers gently over your stomach. “God I miss those.” 

He smiled, a little sadly. 

“Lot I miss about before,” he said. “S’why I’m trying to hard to get that back.” 

You watched him in the dim glow through the window of the streetlights outside. He was so beautiful, something soft and hopeful about him, something so lovely and wonderfully human that you weren’t sure existed in many people anymore. 

“Do you think they can?” You asked quietly. 

He shrugged. 

“I’m not smart enough to say,” he said. “But… I do know that if I don’t try? I can’t live with myself. I need to do everything I can to try to fix this because if I don’t, why am I here? If it’s not to make shit better for…” he took a deep breath, his eyes running over your body as he did. “For you… then what the hell am I doin’?” 

“Do you think the Fireflies will let me come with you?” You asked quietly. “Or how long it’ll be before we can leave if they do?” 

“They’ll let you,” he said. “Already talked to Marlene, told her all you did to keep me alive over the years. Plus, with your knowledge of how FEDRA works from the inside? You can keep helping us, even if you’re not still on the inside. And… I told her I wasn’t goin’ if you couldn’t go, too.” 

You shoved him lightly and he laughed, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. 

“We can leave in a few days,” he said. “We got a group headin’ that way at the end of the week that we can travel with. You can just lie low here until we do.” 

“You were leaving that soon?” You asked, heart cracking open a little at just how close you’d come to losing him without even realizing it. 

“No,” he shrugged. You frowned, confused, and he sighed. “I told you, they want me out there, I could have gone with whatever group I wanted but I wasn’t about to leave without you. I’ve just been waitin’ for my girl.” 

You smiled in spite of yourself. 

“Your girl, huh?” You teased. 

“My girl,” he smiled. “And me and my girl are gonna go save the world.” 

You moved closer to him, to that warmth he seemed to radiate that touched every part of you, kissing his bare chest as you did. 

“Yeah,” you said, that warmth taking root in your chest and blossoming into something like hope. “We are.” 

[funkyplantguy]

established relationship scarian where scar finds A Creature of some sort (dealer's choice) and starts in on the whole "Can we keep it?? 🥺🥺" routine to grian

i was originally going to go with a cat, then a baby warden (listen idk) then an ACTUAL baby...then landed on this (and giggled and kicked my feet the entire time as i wrote it). hope you enjoy :D

scar: g scar: grain scar: grian scar: light of my life scar: where are you? scar: i have gift grian: fishing dock scar: shoulda guessed scar: be there soon <3

grian stretched, quietly groaning to himself as his back (and wings) crackled in delight at the movement, tired of the endless hunching they’d endured over the past several hours. a gift from scar (especially an unexpected one) was sure to be…interesting. they’d been together long enough that scar knew what grian liked, of course…but sometimes…the “gifts” his partner would bring him would be more for scar’s own personal amusement than anything else.

not that he really minded, of course. not when that meant getting to see scar light up like a kid on christmas. scar was always so full of life - always giggling over something or other - and it just reminded grian of why he’d fallen in love with him in the first place. and honestly, that was gift enough for him.

despite all of that, he wasn’t quite expecting scar to bring him something...alive.

grian heard the chirping from the small bundle in scar’s arms before the man had even landed, and couldn’t help the inquisitive trill that forced its way out of him in response. and that, of course, set scar off - mimicking the noise with his own (very human) vocal cords (which only served to produce a melody akin to being strangled). he stared at grian with wide eyes as he touched down, and grian felt his cheeks burn under his gaze.

“g! i’ve never heard you make that noise before - that was so cute, do it again!”

“no,” grian chirped back, then pressed his hand against his mouth as scar laughed in delight. “scar - what is that?”

“it’s a baby!” scar responded, moving closer and tilting the bundle in his arms towards the avian. “look - it’s a little you!”

grian uncovered his mouth to retort - he very much doubted that scar had somehow found a baby avian wandering around hermitcraft - but another quiet chirp caught his attention, and he found himself leaning forward to peer over scar’s arms. and there, nestled in a pile of soft, brown blanket, was the ugliest baby parrot grian had ever seen in his life. and yet..and yet…

grian didn’t even realize that he was whistling until the baby returned his birdsong, eager little chirps and gurgles spilling out of its little fleshy beak. it tilted its head up at grian, blinking, and grian offered up a trembling finger into the makeshift nest. the chick nuzzled against it, purring softly, and something in grian’s heart felt like it might burst. he raised his face to his partner, and found scar’s gaze transfixed - but not on the parrot in his arms, but him. their eyes locked, and scar offered him a smile - something soft and warm, something that made grian want to kiss him more than anything in the world.

“can we keep it?” he whispered, and grian let out a short (wet) laugh.

“i…scar, where…where did you even find it? it’s so little…i can’t imagine its mama would have been far; she’s probably worried sick…do you really want to take the little guy from his mama?”

scar’s lower lip wobbled (and grian felt like he might be the worst person in the entire world for it).

“he didn’t have a mama! i sat and watched and waited for hours, gri, and nobody came for him…he was just all alone, on a branch in the jungle, and i got worried that something was going to come along and eat him! and…well…i figured you’d know how to take care of him. given that you’re…y’know.”

he gestured toward grian’s colorful wings with one hand, and grian’s feathers rippled obediently in show for his lover. from scar’s arms, the tiny bird chirped again, raising its little head and struggling to flap its wings in the same way grian had fluttered his. scar looked down to the parrot, then up to grian, eyes wide and sparkling as he jutted out his lower lip.

“see! he agrees! he wants you to be his new mama!”

(and if grian’s heart fluttered in his chest at the suggestion of being a mother, that was no one's business but his own. that was a topic to be discussed later - much later, in the warmth of each other’s arms and the shield the darkness their room offered for grian's vulnerability)

“we could name him…um…jeffrey!”

“scar - we are not naming our son jeffrey.”

“our son???!??” scar parroted back, jerking his head up from where he had dipped it to stare down at the chick in his arms. “our son??? so…we can keep him? really? you mean it?”

“yes, scar. i mean it,” grian responded, smiling softly at the hopeful peep from the newest member of their little family. “we can keep him.”

(and the way scar pulled him into a kiss, then, was the greatest gift of all)

[listentothelittlebird]

so I have been avidly following the lovely dbhc au that @shepscapades has made and I have made a little drabble fanfic of Doc and Xisuma because I feel very normal about them :)

setting: hermitcraft season 10, while Doc is in skyblock jail

word count: 1361

-

Doc is grumbling to himself, ramming his fist into the newly-sprouted tree with not an insignificant amount of prejudice, when he hears the distinct whistling of fireworks crescendoing towards him.

“Have you come to watch me punch wood like an imbecile?” Doc snarks, expecting to hear Scar’s fumbling denials, or Cleo’s cackling assent.

“That wasn’t the plan, no.” The quietly amused voice is far from his first prediction. An oversight on his part, really.

[Vocal Recognition: Xisumavoid.]

“Xisuma!” Doc’s next punch misses the trunk of the cherry blossom tree, glancing off the side and chipping off the bark instead. He blinks away the vocal recognition pop-up, glancing behind him just to check it really is him and not Tango with a goat horn. “Hey, man!”

“Hey! You’ve been busy.” Xisuma’s boots scuff against the cobblestone as he inspects the progress of his miserable sky island. A shulker box thunks onto the stone, freeing his hands up to brush against the cherry wood planks.

“Hardly anything else to do besides work.” Doc throws the words over his shoulder as he continues to gather his cherry wood, not one to leave a project half-done. 

His visitor is content to hum and haw at whatever he finds as Doc works away. It has only been a few days, but the one-sided commentary is surprisingly comforting. After all, no touching the ground means no redstone, which also means no time in the lab. The thought has Doc speaking up, slipping between Xisuma’s quips.

“It’s not been too busy, yeah?” Doc clambers onto the tree as he plucks off the highest branches. He pauses to flick open a calendar overlay, skimming the dates. “Nobody’s scheduled for maintenance checks until next month.” 

“It’s been alright.” The fuzzy wolf-shaped wool mask pops into view as Xisuma emerges from Doc’s pink abode. “Been a bit too quiet, even. It’s weird not having you around.”

Doc snorts to hide the way his thirium pump hiccups at the words. Logically, he knows the sound is far too soft for Xisuma to hear. Having emotions, Doc has found, is hardly ever logical.

“So you came over ‘cause you missed me?” The words are out before Doc can even try to edit the response. It instills in him the same kind of floundering exasperation he feels when trying to recall a comms message already seen by everyone.

“Well.” When Xisuma ducks his head, one ear of the knitted wolf flops to the side. “I mean. I suppose so.”

[Emotion Identified: Shyness.]

“But I did come with an agenda!” Xisuma reaches for the shulker behind him, pulling out a mobile scanner from the lab.

“You’re right about having no maintenance checks on the schedule,” Xisuma says, waving around the scanner. “With you out here roughing it out, though, I figured I should check on you.”

“Ah.” Doc chuckles, ignores his cooling vents spinning faster. “I see.”

“Well, don’t keep me waiting! You look about done with your tree.” 

“I am, I think.” Doc squints through the already-thinning leaves, nodding when he finds no branches left. “Alright, one moment.”

Dismantling the remains of the trunk takes only a few seconds. Doc gathers the wood and plonks them into the chest in his shabby house, with Xisuma trailing behind. 

With two people inside, it only reminds Doc how small the shelter is. Turning around after closing his chest puts him directly in Xisuma’s space.

“So, uh.” Doc shifts back, as much as he can. He ends up plopping down on the edge of his bed, which, well. “Go ahead, then.” 

A check-up does not require much space, really. Doc has done maintenance with the hermits in caves, in redstone farms, in underwater bases and nether bases. This is just the first time Doc himself has been examined outside of the yawning expanse of their labs. The change in routine leaves him uncertain, like recalibrating on angled terrain. 

The ease that Xisuma slips into the motions does well to settle Doc’s stress, however mild. The mobile scanner takes a while to gather results, so Doc answers Xisuma’s laundry list of questions. The list of questions is one curated by both Doc and Xisuma. Most of it is data, which Doc rattles off easily from the numbers that he pulls up in the corner of his vision.

The mobile scanner beeps cheerfully just as they reach the end of the lengthy questionnaire.

“Clean bill of health.” Xisuma shows Doc the display, which focuses less on internal processes and more on external damage or abnormalities. “Although, your average temperature is a bit lower than your usual.”

Doc shrugs. “It’s the altitude, man. Going from spending significant amounts of my time in the deserts and swamps to this is quite the change. Not to mention the wind chill.” 

As if to prove his point, a gust hits the shelter hard enough to make the planks rattle and creak. With no door, the icy breeze rushes in quickly. He tucks his metal arm into his lab coat with a sigh, the exposed components always prone to freezing the fastest.

“It’s not that bad,” Doc states flippantly, knowing without looking that Xisuma is taking in his every move. “I’m working most of the time, which keeps me warm. Plus I have my lava pool to sit beside when I need to warm up.”

“If you say so.” Xisuma shifts, leaning against his crafting bench. “The moment you start to experience temperature glitches, though, call this off. The rest will understand.”

“I know, I know.” This is all in good fun, when it comes down to it. He plays along for his own amusement. “I’ll be fine, Xisuma. I know how to take care of myself.”

“That you do.” Xisuma nods, then, with an “ah” of realisation, pulls his wolf mask off his helmet. 

“Here!” It only takes a step for Xisuma to be back in Doc’s space, pulling the wool over Doc’s head before he can react. 

“Uhm.” The mask is large enough that it goes over his horns easily, fitting loosely around his face. He has to lift and adjust it slightly to get his eyes back through the openings. “What?”

“To keep you warm!” Xisuma draws back again, settling against the crafting bench and tapping his heel against its side. “I mean, even over my helmet, it sure retains the heat. I know it doesn’t quite help with your metal arm, but it’ll at least warm up your horns and face.”

Doc does feel warmer, in fact. Though that is not necessarily correlated with the wool mask itself, and more the action of gifting it to him.

“But it’s your mask,” Doc replies, a flimsy rebuttal. “For your Woolves of Wool Street.”

“I have spares,” Xisuma chimes, eyes squinting happily through his helmet. “I’m sure the others won’t mind if you’re wearing it. Take it as a souvenir, of sorts.”

“Right.” Doc reaches a hand up to the wool. The material is soft, slightly worn from use. It smells a bit like Xisuma’s armour, the polish that he uses to clean it at the end of the day. “Thanks.”

“No problem, Doc.” 

Xisuma’s communicator chimes. A quick look has Xisuma turning back to Doc with an apologetic sigh. “Sorry, I’ve got to go. I’ll come back soon, though, if you don’t mind?”

“Come back anytime,” Doc replies. He tries to reel it towards comedy with a gesture to his surroundings, his meager belongings. “You won’t be interrupting anything.”

The dry quip draws out a laugh from Xisuma, even as he gathers his shulker and activates his elytra.

“See you, Doc!” Xisuma waves from the edge of the cobblestone, then nosedives away, a rocket propelling him rapidly out of sight. 

Doc takes a moment to watch the clouds, then laughs at himself. Did he not poke fun at Tango last season, when he stared longingly at the portal Jimmy left the server with? Now look at him.  

He draws a hand up to the wolf mask, rubbing the soft knitting between his fingers, and decides that Tango absolutely cannot see him wearing this.

He can keep it on for now, though.

[dilf-issues]

Your Eyes Tell (T.S)

Synopsis: Tommy could never accept a whore to love. But he did anyways, however his ego and pride might be the death of him.

Warnings: Thomas is an asshole and emotionally constipated. (Well he kinda always is), Former Prostitute! Reader, unrequited love?, kidnapping, torture, slight gore, mentions of unwanted pregnancy. ANGST ANGST ANGST, miscarriage, memory lost, vulgar language, sex and mentions of sex, mentions of sexual harrasment and tba…

A/N: Hi everyone this is my first ever story because I have newly converted to Murphysm. I used to write for two different fandoms (Marvel/BTS) if anybody knew me I used to be @steveodinsonbarnes and @voidswan . However I have quit writing for almost two years but recently i fell in love with Cillian Murphy and I just HAD to write about him. Please be gentle on me! It’s been a looong time since I’ve written anything. However for this blog, expect countless of fandoms lol.

PART 2

.

You stood in the doorway of Thomas's office, watching as he poured over some papers on his desk. He seemed to notice your presence, glancing up briefly before returning to his work. The air between you two was thick with tension. You knew how he felt, but his pride would never allow him to admit it. You slowly walked into the room, closing the door quietly behind you.

“Tommy…” You called out his name, to get his attention. Your voice was trembling slightly as you nicked on your nails and fingers, fidgeting out of nervousness.

Thomas looked up from his work, his expression unreadable. "What do you want?" he asked gruffly. His returned back to the papers, not even bothering to meet your eyes.

You were terrified. You were scared for your life because if you told him what you were about to tell him, you didn’t know how he would react. God knows. You stepped inside his office, attempting to get closer to him. By now you were already standing in front of his desk, looking down at the man you loved dearly and he didn’t even love you back. You knew that much at least.

He leaned back in his chair, studying you closely. "Well, spit it out then," he said, his tone harsh. Getting impatient, Thomas tapped his desk as he breathed out. He was bombarded with paperwork and he had no time to actually deal with you, all he felt was stress and frustration.

I frowned at his tone, looking down as I suddenly felt so small even though I was the one standing and he was sitting in front of me.

“Tommy, there’s something you should know...” Your heart was pounding in your chest as you trembled, you felt the cold sweat running down your neck and it felt like you were about to faint.

Thomas saw the fear in your eyes and his expression softened slightly. "What is it?" he asked, his tone less harsh but still guarded.

“Tommy...” I paused before taking a deep breath before saying what I wanted to say, “I’m pregnant...”

Thomas's expression froze, his eyes wide with shock. "You're.. pregnant?" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. He sat in stunned silence for a moment before standing up abruptly and pacing the room.

The first emotion that Thomas felt was confusion, however it quickly turned into anger.

“Who had you been fucking behind me, eh?” You looked at him in disbelief, your hands that you were nicking and fidgeting now fell by your side as you felt anger. Thomas stopped pacing and faced you, his expression hardening. "Are you sure it's mine?" he asked, his voice laced with doubt.

“What do you mean? The only person I’ve been fucking is you, Tommy! For the past two years, I have been with nobody but you!” Your emotions were going haywire, it made sense of the hormonal changes you were going through. You cried out to him and you knew you looked stupid but you couldn’t care less. There was a life growing inside you for four months now and you had just now realized. You always thought you had just been eating too much and gaining weight. However, after a visit to the doctor, he had said otherwise.

Hearing your words, a flicker of guilt crossed Thomas's face. He knew you had always been faithful to him; his previous doubt was just a manifestation of his own insecurities. He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. "And you're sure it's mine?" he asked again.

Your sobs quieted down as you looked at him sadly, “Do you still think of me as the whore you found at the side of the streets years ago, Tommy?”

Disappointment and sadness were laced in your voice. Feeling your heart breaking as Tommy stayed silent. He didn’t know what to say, he looked down on you for years and he had never seen you as his equal. At least that was what he tried to convince himself. He could never respect a whore. However, with you, there were times when he had been different, caring, and kind.

“Am I still a dirty whore in your eyes, Thomas?!” I suddenly raised my voice, feeling betrayed.

Thomas winced at your question, knowing he had hurt you. "No, no, I don't think that," At least not as much as back then. His voice taking on a remorseful tone. He stepped closer to you, reaching out to touch your shoulder. "It's just... this is unexpected, that's all."

“It’s yours. I am 4 months pregnant, Tommy...” I stepped closer to him, taking his hands in mind as I looked at him pleadingly. “We could be a family, it’s all I ever wanted with you...”

Thomas’ heart dropped at the confession as he avoided your pleading gaze. The thought sounded nice, you were beautiful and there were no doubts your child with him would be too.

But you... You were a whore. Someone he looked down upon. Even though you have left that life for almost 4 years, he still couldn’t accept that.

Thomas was silent for a moment, absorbing the information. It wasn't that he truly doubted you, but rather, he was having a hard time processing everything. "Four months, huh?" he said quietly, still trying to wrap his head around the situation.

“Yes, Tommy, we can do this! I promise you I will be a wonderful mother... Just please, give me a chance. See me as a lover, Tommy. I beg. We can be so happy, I can make you so happy” You promised him, with hopefulness filling your eyes. You were smiling, already imagining the life ahead of the start of your family with the love of your life.

Thomas's anger seemed to be directed more at the situation than at you. "What were you thinking?" he said, his voice cold and harsh. "Did you not think about the consequences? About what this might do to our lives? Did you think I'd just be happy about this?"

The smile left your face.

“Tommy, this is your child... Our child...”

Thomas's face darkened at your words. "Our child," he repeated, mockingly. "You think I want this? A bastard child with a prostitute?" He took a step closer, towering over you. "You should have been more careful."

You dropped his hands that were in your eyes as you stared blankly at the wall behind him, the tears welling in your eyes once again. Your heart was shattering so loud you could hear it but Tommy was blind, of course, he wouldn’t see how much that hurts you.

“You… don’t mean that… I know you love me, Tommy, I’ve seen you” It was something Tommy would never admit. He would die rather than admit the feelings buried deep inside for you. He had too much pride, he had a reputation to maintain.

Thomas stepped even closer to you, his face inches from yours. "Oh, you've seen it, have you?" he said, his expression hard. "And what makes you think I love you? Just because I've taken care of you? Don’t mistake that for love."

You felt your heart break in a million pieces as you held your tummy, holding the life you and Tommy had created, “Please… Tommy”

Thomas watched as your expression fell, a pang of guilt tugging at his chest. Yet, he refused to show any weakness. "Save your tears," he said, his voice cold. "You should have thought about all of this before letting yourself get pregnant." Thomas's face was hard as he spoke, his words meant to hurt you. "If you can't remember who the father is, then maybe you should go find out" he said, his voice cold and harsh. "It's not my responsibility to take care of a child that might not even be mine."

Thomas watched as you broke down, your tears falling freely. He remained stoic, not wanting to show any weakness. But a pang of guilt tugged at his heart as he realized how harsh his words were. He had taken you in when no one else would, and you had been fully loyal to him. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to admit his true feelings.

“If you don’t accept our child, I’m leaving!” You cried out as you headed towards the door.

Thomas's face darkened at your threat. "You think you can threaten me?" he said, his tone cold. "You have nowhere else to go. Do you really think anyone else will take you in once they find out you're having a bastard child?"

You had said nothing more, instead, you wiped your tears as you looked at him with pure hatred. You stormed out of his office and saying nothing more to him.

Thomas watched you storm out of his office, his expression stoic. But, inside, he was filled with a whirlwind of emotions. Seeing your tears stirred something in him, making him question his cruel words. But his pride and his stubbornness refused to let him follow you.

Thomas leaned back in his chair, a smug expression on his face. "She'll be back," he muttered to himself. "She has nowhere else to go. In a day or two, she'll come crawling back, begging me to forgive her."

However, suddenly Tommy had the thought of the family we could have been. He would never admit it because he was too ashamed but the vision was nice. The thought crept into Thomas's mind, uninvited and unwelcome. It was the image of a family with you, a child cradled in your arms. It was a scene that he hadn't dared to allow himself to imagine, but now, it was there, in his mind's eye. He tried to shake it off, but the vision wouldn't leave.

“She will come back” Thomas repeated the words to himself like a mantra, trying to convince himself that you would return. He tried to suppress the image of a family that had invaded his thoughts, but it lingered at the back of his mind. "She will come back," he muttered again, taking another drag from his cigarette.

.

Days passed, and you never returned to Thomas's office. Each day, he expected you to show up, hat in hand, begging for forgiveness. But each day, you remained absent. As the days turned into weeks, Thomas's smug expression faded, replaced with a growing sense of unease.

Polly, Thomas's sister, was growing increasingly concerned and frustrated with her brother. She had tried multiple times to convince him to look for you, but he insisted that you would come back on your own.

"Tommy, you can't just sit here and do nothing," Polly scolded him. "She's carrying your child! Have you no sense of responsibility? What if something happens to her Tommy?!”

Thomas scowled at his sister, his ego still ruling his actions. "She's a grown woman, she can take care of herself," he said, his voice cold and dismissive. "And it's not like I wanted this child in the first place."

“You tell yourself this lie, all the time but we all know how much you care for her Tommy. She’s out there all alone with your child and god knows what could happen to her!”

Thomas clenched his jaw, hearing the truth in his sister's words. He tried to deny it, to convince himself that he didn't care, but deep down, he knew it was a lie. He did care for you, more than he wanted to admit, and the thought of you out there alone, pregnant with his child, was gnawing at him.

But his pride and stubbornness held him back. He couldn't bring himself to admit his feelings, to admit that he was wrong. "I'm not going to go chasing after her like some damn lovesick puppy," he grumbled, his usual cold demeanor back in place.

Thomas tried to put on a display of indifference, but inside, he was starting to doubt his own words. The days were passing, and you hadn't shown up. The realization that you might not come back was slowly sinking in, no matter how much he denied it.

Polly saw the flicker of doubt in her brother's eyes, her concern growing stronger. "Are you sure about that, Tommy? You can't keep playing these games forever," she said, her voice soft but firm. "You need to take responsibility for your actions. That woman carries your child."

Tommy was about to argue with his sister again but was interrupted when his brother John entered the room, bursting in without a warning.

As soon as he saw John's expression, Thomas knew something was wrong. He stood up quickly, his demeanor changing from aloof to concerned. "What is it, John? What's wrong?"

“Tommy, you got to come quick! It’s Y/N” Tommy’s ears perked up when he heard John mention his name.

Tommy glanced at Polly, “I told you she would come back” His voice had a sense of smugness and Polly could only shake her head in disappointment.

As they both followed John to the living room, Tommy saw a crowd of the Peaky Blinders surrounding the long couch. As he got curious, he pushed past them and met with a horrible sight.

You did come back. Just not in the way Tommy had hoped.

Your body lay on the large couch in his mansion, it was stiff and not moving. There were patches of bruises everywhere, you were barely decent, and the dress that you wore was torn to pieces but luckily it covered the parts that mattered. Blood was slowly seeping into the couch, leaking out of the wound on your sides. Arthur who had looked traumatized, was holding onto a cloth to stop the bleeding, holding onto it like it was his life.

“She’s still alive, Tommy but barely. Isaiah found her on the side of the streets a couple of kilometers away from the Garrison” Arthur breathed out, feeling the pulse on your arm faint but there.

“Well, what the fuck are all of you doing? GET A FUCKING DOCTOR!” Thomas shouted at his gang members as everyone scattered, looking to find the best doctor in the whole country if they could. When everyone had fled, the only ones left in the room were both Thomas and Polly.

“What have you done, Tommy? This is all your fucking fault!” Polly cried out as she tried to tend to your unconscious body that was on the brink of death.

“S-Shut up, Poll. Shut up! Get a new fucking cloth! She’s bleeding too fucking much, someone fucking stabbed her” Tommy cried out, he had never been someone to show his emotions however in this situation he was crying and panicking as he caressed your hair. “Find out who fucking did this poll I’m gonna make them wish they were never fucking born!”

Thomas couldn't control the tears streaming down his face as he looked at you, his heart full of pain at the sight of your battered body.

“No, no, no,” Thomas choked out, tears streaming down his face as he kneeled beside you. "Please, don't leave me. I’m sorry, please my love... I’m sorry”

Thomas had stayed with you until finally, a renowned doctor arrived. Thomas remained vigilantly by your side as the doctor examined your injuries, assessing the extent of the damage. The room was eerily silent, filled only with the sound of the doctor's quiet mutterings and the occasional instruction given to one of the brothers.

Thomas watched as the doctor carefully tended to you, trying to hold back his growing sense of despair. His thoughts were filled with worry and self-recrimination, silently cursing himself for not being there to protect you.

“Mr. Shelby, her wounds are extremely severe and some of them are even internal... It will take a very long time to recover but I will try my best” Thomas was seething as he lifted the innocent man off the floor by his collar.

“You better make sure she’s fucking alive because if you fail, I’m going to fucking kill you” The doctor trembled as John stepped in and apologized to him for his brother’s behaviour.

“Tommy this man is the only chance you have to see her again, so you better fucking listen to him and calm the fuck down, alright?” John scolded.

Tommy took deep breathes as he tried to calm himself down. Thomas nodded, his expression grim. The news was not what he had hoped to hear, but he appreciated the doctor's honesty. "

What about the child?" he asked, his voice laced with both hope and fear.

“Child?” The doctor was confused and so was everyone inside the room except for Polly. Nobody had known you were pregnant with his child except for Polly, who you had told beforehand.

Thomas's eyes widened in shock. "Yes, the child," he reiterated, his voice growing more urgent. "My woman...she's pregnant."

Everybody stood in the room with shock written on their faces. Everybody knew the obvious affection Tommy had for you no matter how hard he tried to hide and deny it. But never in a million years would they hear him calling you ‘his woman’

The doctor checked for a second heartbeat inside your belly, as he looked at your unconcious body sadly. For some reason, he told everyone to leave the room, including Tommy himself.

“If everybody could leave, I need to check the condition of her pregnancy” Tommy wanted to protest but Polly pulled him out of the room either way.

Thomas felt a pang of anxiety as the doctor asked everyone to leave the room. He didn’t understand why he needed to leave but he also knew that this could mean something serious. With visible reluctance, he left the room, joining the others outside.

He watched through the window, his frustration mounting as he waited for news about the pregnancy. The tension in his body mirrored the turmoil in his heart.

The doctor called Tommy back in and this time, only he went with Polly but left everyone else outside.

“Mr. Shelby...” The doctor sighed sadly, “Your partner had insufficient blood flow due to her stab wounds... I’m sorry to tell you that the baby had passed”

The world seemed to stop for Tommy as the doctor's words sunk in. The news hit him like a punch to the stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. His mind was a swirling vortex of grief and shock.

"No," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "No, it can't be..."

As the doctor's words echoed in his mind, Tommy felt his world collapsing around him. The loss of the child hit him hard, the weight of grief crashing down upon his shoulders. He wanted to scream, to punch something, but all he could do was stand there trembling, his face etched with anguish.

"Why...?" he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "Why did this have to happen?"

“The fetus is still in her womb, I’m afraid I may need your permission to remove it so she wouldn’t have futher complications with her injury”

As Polly wept beside him, Tommy felt a pang of despair. He knew she blamed him and he couldn't, in that moment, deny that it was partially his fault. If he had been kinder, more attentive, maybe none of this would have happened. He remained silent, his heart breaking with every cry that escaped her.

The room was heavy with grief, the air thick with sorrow.

Tommy turned to his sister, his eyes dark with regret. "I know you blame me, and you're right to," he whispered. "I was a fool, Polly. A damn fool."

“I am angry but you are still my brother, all you can do now is give her all you can” Polly advised as he hugged Tommy so he could cry on her shoulders.

“I have to take the deceased fetus out of her womb, and I think you should do a burial, Mr. Shelby” The doctor remarked.

Tommy's expression hardened as the doctor mentioned the burial. The thought of having to lay his child to rest felt like another knife twisting in his heart. "Yes," he said quietly, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll make the arrangements."

“I’m sorry but I need to warn you again, she is in critical condition. There’s a small chance she’ll survive”

Tommy's heart skipped a beat as the doctor spoke. A mixture of hope and fear battled within him. He clutched the doorframe tightly, his knuckles turning white. "What do you mean by 'small chance'?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Her wounds are all deeply infected, it is starting to spread internally. It could spread to her organs and it could all fail, Mr. Shelby”

Tommy felt a sharp pang of fear in his chest as the doctor's words sank in. The mention of infected wounds spreading internally to her organs sent a chill down his spine. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you, especially after everything that had happened.

“Just try your best” Thomas spat harshly as the doctor nodded.

You were transferred to the hospital to receive critical care.

Tommy felt nothing but regret. So much regret to the point where he felt like he would kill himself he lost you. He can’t live with that guilt.

.

The weeks passed slowly for Tommy. Each day felt like an eternity as he spent his time by your side, hoping for you to wake up. He barely slept, and barely ate, his sole focus on your recovery.

With each passing day, his anger and determination grew. He exacted his revenge on the men that hurt you, taking control of their territory and leaving no survivors. The blood on his hands was a stark reminder of his path of vengeance.

Tommy was sitting right beside your unconscious body, every day he hoped for you to wake up but you never did. Stuck in a coma from his own doings.

Polly walked into the room as she sighed, looking at his brother sadly, “It’s time, Tommy”

“Time for what, Pol?”

“She is not waking up anytime soon, Tommy”

Tommy's expression darkened. He already knew that, but hearing Polly say it out loud brought a wave of grief crashing over him once again. He leaned back in his chair, rubbing a weary hand over his face.

"I know," he muttered quietly. "I know she's not awake."

“I talked to Dr. Smith, she might not make it”

Tommy felt a pang of dread in his chest. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The doctor's words echoed in his mind, a reminder of the harsh reality he was facing.

"He said 'might,'" Tommy replied, his voice tinged with a hint of defiance. "That means there's still a chance she could wake up."

“It’s time you say goodbye to her, love. You can’t keep her like this” Tommy's heart clenched at Polly's words. The thought of saying goodbye to you was like a dagger to the heart, but he knew that deep down, it was a possibility he might have to face.

He paused for a moment, warring with himself. "I can't," he whispered, his voice filled with grief and despair. "I can't say goodbye to her, Pol. Not yet."

“Then just tell her about how you feel because if she is truly gone, you will regret leaving things unsaid. Tommy” As Polly's words hung in the air, Tommy felt a rush of emotions he had long kept buried. She was right. There were things he had always wanted to say to you, things he had never dared to voice aloud.

Tommy looked down at his hands, his mind racing. He knew this might be his last chance to share his true feelings with you. He took a deep breath, summoning the courage.

"I'll talk to her, Pol," he whispered quietly.

Polly left the room the give her brother some space as he looked at your unconscious form. Seeing you lying there, so still and fragile, filled him with a sense of protectiveness and despair. He stepped closer, taking your hand in his.

His eyes traced the contours of your face, lingering on the faded scars left by your ordeal. He sat down on the edge of the bed, his fingers gently tracing the outline of your bruised cheeks.

Tommy's grip on your hand tightened as he began to speak, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry," he whispered fiercely. "For everything. For being an idiot. For hurting you. For not seeing how precious you were to me."

He paused, his throat tightening with emotion. Admitting his mistakes out loud, especially to you, was like revealing a vulnerability he had long kept hidden.

He continued, "I was a fool, love. A damn fool. I let my pride and my own insecurities blind me from what was right in front of me this whole time."

As the words spilled out of him, it was as if a dam had burst inside, freeing all the feelings he had kept carefully concealed for so long.

"You were my light," he murmured. "My rock in the storm. And I pushed you away, too blinded by my own anger and stupidity to see it."

Tommy's expression was one of deep anguish, his regret etched in every line on his face. He held your hand tighter, his thumb gently stroking your knuckles.

Tommy continued, his voice growing softer yet intense. "And god, love, I love you. I've always loved you, I think. From the moment I first laid eyes on you. But I was too bloody stubborn to acknowledge it, to admit it to you or even to myself."

He paused for a moment, his eyes locked on your face, silently praying for a sign, any sign, of your response.

As Tommy poured out his heart, he was too engrossed in his own thoughts and words to notice the slight movement of your fingers on your side. His focus was solely on you, on confessing his feelings and hoping that somehow, you would hear his words and respond.

"But I see it now, love. I see it all so clearly," he went on, his grip on your hand tight. "I love you. With all my heart, I love you."

He leaned closer, his voice becoming a whisper. "Please, love. Please wake up," he pleaded, his voice shaking. "I need you to hear me. I need you to know that I love you more than anything in this world."

Tommy's eyes searched your face for any sign of response, any indication that you were hearing him beneath your unconscious state.

Suddenly, Tommy could see your eyes fluttering.

At the sight of your eyelids fluttering open, Tommy's heart skipped a beat. He leaned in closer, his breath held in anticipation. "Love? Can you hear me, love?" he asked, his voice filled with hopeful awe.

“Tommy?”

To be continued...

-

A/N: HEHEHE HOW WAS THAT? Sorry for the cliffhanger I need your opinion on the story! So please drop me a comment or ask because your constructive criticism would really help!

[intimidating-fettuccine]

OMG OMG OMG I cant believe I get to see the open requests after so long!!! Hiiii Aubrie, it's Jeff simp anon, missed you lots!!! Let's seeeee...Could we get some headcanons of Jeff's weird habits/talents he randomly discoverd? Things that no one would expect. Im sorry if you already did this or something similar, I haven't been around much lately, and if you did, you could write anything you like including Jeff. Kisseeees <3

Hello hello! Welcome back! I was very happy to ramble about Jeff for you this morning, so I hope you enjoy <3

I'm just gonna kind of highlight these two since I've said them in other posts, but Jeff bounces his leg obsessively and he plays with straws in his drinks whenever he has one. Whenever he's sitting down, his leg is bouncing, and you or someone else will have to sit next to him and firmly place your hand on his leg to get him to stop bouncing it because otherwise, he will not stop. He also taps his foot when he has to stand still for a really long time, like in a line or something, which makes him seem impatient but really he's just stimming. He likes to move straws around in his cups with his mouth, and he'll bounce the straw up and down with his hand (he tends not to do it in the cups with lids that make the squeaking sound when you do that), and when he's done with his drink he pulls the straw out and puts it in his mouth and bounces it up and down. Nobody knows if he's aware he's doing it because none of them feel confident enough to ask.

Randomly discovered he could do a perfect backflip one day. BEN probably dared him to do a backflip or said he couldn't and Jeff was like "Just fucking watch me" and he just did it. Perfect execution, perfect landing, the first time he'd ever done one. Now he does backflips at very random, mundane occasions to show off and be dramatic and everyone is tired of it but that just makes him want to continue doing it more.

Does duck lips when he's reading. When he is just reading anything at all for an extended period of time, he will purse his lips into duck lips and just hold them like that until he's finished reading. He didn't realize he was doing it until one day he randomly snapped to attention and realized he was doing it, and he started paying more attention and realized he does it every time subconsciously. He hopes that nobody has noticed he does this. (They have.)

I haven't brought this up in a while, but my mans can SING. I feel like he never really tried to, until one day he was listening to a song he really liked at the time, and he just started belting out along with the singer and was like holy FUCK I can sing, and now he sings very regularly. He's gotten better over time but he can match and carry a tune pretty well. I also said this in older posts, but when he's dating you he would LOVE to sing for and with you. He doesn't care if you can sing well or not, he just loves singing with you because it feels very domestic and sweet to him, and he loves singing songs for you and he'll nuzzle into you and hold you close and just quietly sing to you if you're sad, or he'll sing loud and boisterously if you're feeling silly, he just likes to do things like that with you.

Really really good at doing people's hair. Jeff has long hair himself that he is incredibly proud of and incredibly emotionally attached to, and he loves styling his own hair, and I feel like he began practicing on other people in the mansion very randomly, and realized he's pretty damn good at it. So now he's the hair guy. If someone is going out for a night on the town or an event and they need their hair done and can't or don't want to do it themselves, Jeff is the stylist of the mansion. Also can give pretty good haircuts in certain styles so he does that every now and then too.

Last but certainly not least, he can perfectly every single time successfully do the cotton eyed joe dance where you go in a row crushing cans with your foot on beat. He's never failed at it.

[xxresi-rotxx]

Avoiding You- L.S. Kennedy (pt. 2)

It was well into the night when you decided to depart from the base. You had been trying your hardest to get Leon out of your head. Why was he so interested in your lead? Was he upset at the move you pulled? 

It didn’t matter, at least you got the satisfaction of seeing his face when you mentioned Ada and how you saw the two of them. It wasn’t entirely the reaction you were expecting though. There wasn’t a trace of anger or embarrassment, but more of shock and shame. 

It didn’t make sense in your head at all. Leon was probably the most loyal, down to earth agent you had ever met; it seemed so out of character for him to fall for someone like her. But then again, maybe you didn’t really know him. You definitely didn’t know him the way you thought you did. 

You had been walking through the back streets of the city for a good half hour now, making sure you weren’t being trailed. It was close to pitch black out now, the dusk quickly turning into night, and you finally began scoping out your lead. 

It looked like an old, abandoned warehouse. Perfect setting for a bioweapon. Almost too perfect actually. It felt off to you; the hairs on your arm standing on end. You didn’t like this feeling; you knew something was wrong and you went on high alert trying to figure out why. 

Before you could react, someone was behind you. They made quick work of disarming you & pinning you to them. A hand covering your mouth and an arm around your waist, you slammed back into something solid. 

“Relax Y/N, it’s me.” The hold on your body becoming looser. 

You forcefully yanked your body away from Leon, a flood of emotions coursing through your veins. Fury, embarrassment, confusion, excitement; it was all so much. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” You quietly shouted at the man. 

“Look, I would have explained this all to you earlier but you stormed off at base and-”

“And what?” You interrupted, earning an exasperated and tired look from Leon. 

“And you really shouldn’t be here alone.” 

“And why is that?”

“You know why” Leon’s tone turning serious “I don’t know where you got this lead but it’s right, the bioweapons” he paused to glance at the factory “are right in there. What were you trying to prove by going alone?”

You hated that he could see right through you. 

Before you could think of something to say another shadow emerged from the street’s edge. It took every ounce of restraint you had to bite your tongue and hold back the anger you felt just looking at this woman.

“I told you tonight wasn’t a good night Leon.” Ada purred as she got closer to the two of you.

“We were just leaving.” Leon responded, grabbing your arm before starting to walk away.

Ada put a hand on his chest, halting his movement.

“And who’s this?” She asked gesturing to you.

You opened your mouth to respond but Leon beat you to it.

“Nobody.” His voice dripping venom as he spoke. You rarely heard Leon this clipped, angry.

He pushed the two of you past Ada and began walking towards base. Keeping to the street’s edge to avoid unwanted attention, his grip on your arm never wavering.

——————————————————————————

“Mind telling me what the hell this is all about?” Leon asked the second you arrived back at base.

“I could ask you the same thing.” You replied, ice in your tone. This whole situation was so confusing. Was he making things hard on purpose? He was the one who rejected you, not the other way around.

“What Ada?” Just hearing her name leave his lips killed you a little. “She knows more about those bioweapons than we do at this point, she’s been giving me intel on the situation there.”

You scoffed at that.

“Seriously Kennedy? I saw the two of y-”

“Leon.”

His interruption left you speechless.

“What?”

“You keep calling me Kennedy, it’s Leon incase you’ve forgotten.”

If looks could kill you’d both be dead on the spot. Your stares penetrating each other, neither one backing down.

“Okay Leon,” the memory of the last time you said his name haunting you “why not share your intel hm?”

“You think I trust Ada?” Leon scoffed, his voice slighter raising in volume. “I learned a long time ago never to do that. There’s a reason they only ever have me contact her, I’m the only one she won’t immediately betray.”

“I wonder why that is.” You mumbled under your breath, your emotions getting the better of you.

“There isn’t a price I wouldn’t pay to keep those I care about safe Y/N, but that doesn’t mean I enjoy paying it. I figured you of all people would know that.”

You had no response. Starting to feel guilty for saying what you did. Leon would do anything, give anything, to keep you all safe. You knew that for a fact. Your heartache made you forget so much, made you forget everything you had ever known about Leon just to try and ease the pain.

It had been over thirty seconds and you were still speechless.

Leon let out a laugh, “Okay, well”, he turned on his heel, leaving you frozen standing alone in the dark.

You came to your senses and ran to catch up with him, going past him to stand in front of him, blocking his path. To your surprise, he spoke first.

“You know if you really saw us you would have known that much, following a lady’s lead isn’t my style.”

You thought back to when you saw them, Leon against the tree with Ada pressed against his chest, her clearly taking the lead.

“So why then?” You could hear the slight tremor in your voice but chose to ignore it. Avoiding Leon wasn’t going to work anymore, something had to give.

“I already told you-”

“No not about Ada, why did you reject me?” You bit your tongue, trying to swallow it the way you wished the earth would swallow you.

“Reject you?” He asked, voice laced with confusion.

“I tried to kiss you Leon, don’t tell me you don’t remember. I made a mistake clearly, but if you didn’t want me like that you could have just said so.” You broke eye contact with the man to stare at the ground. Had you become a masochist? This conversation was leading you to believe you had.

“I didn’t reject you.” He lifted your chin, locking eyes with you once again.

Had you heard him correctly? You stared deeply into his eyes looking for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.

“You didn’t reject me? Leon you pulled away from me, the message behind that is pretty clear.”

“You don’t get it.” He sighed, leaning his forehead against yours.

You missed him. God you missed him so much. You just wanted to reverse time, forget you ever tried to kiss him. You missed his banter, his scent, his voice, having him by your side for every mission.

“You’re right,” you whispered “I don’t.” Leaning against his forehead gave you some sense of relief. At least he couldn’t see how shiny your eyes had gotten, glistening with unshed tears.

“I didn’t kiss you for multiple reasons, not a single one of them being that I didn’t want to.”

You tore your head away from his to look into his eyes.

“What?” You spoke, trying to piece it all together.

“Did you not realize where we were when you tried to kiss me? How many people were around?”

“So?”

“So? So I didn’t want people to think that I was using you. That that’s the reason I specifically requested you for each mission I went on.”

“Specifically requested me?”

“You didn’t think that was random did you? That we just happened to get paired for every mission.”

“You requested me?” You spoke like a broken record, he requested you? Specifically?? Every time?! You heart was beginning to beat faster, feeling better with each word he spoke.

“Every time, without fail. I pride myself on a lot of things Y/N, but my self control isn’t one of them.”

You smiled a little, thinking about past memories proving his statement to be true.

“I wasn’t worried about my reputation, there’s no rule against dating other agents in the DSO, but I was thinking about yours. You hear the shit everyone mumbles when Ada’s mentioned, I didn’t want that happening to you. That I would have minded.”

“I was right then?” You asked barely above a whisper, “to kiss you I mean, I didn’t misread you?”

“No you didn’t misread me, in fact I’d been waiting for you to figure it out. But after you tried to kiss me and I stopped it, you went radio silent. Every time I tried to find you or talk to you, you weren’t there. And when you were, you wanted nothing to do with me.”

You thought back to the debriefing, when you saw his steps hesitate, turns out you hadn’t imagined it. Leon broke you from your thoughts.

“I thought maybe you had regret it.”

His eyes were the ones to break contact first, glancing down at his boots before looking back to you.

“I did regret it, but for a completely different reason I assure you.” He smiled slightly at your comment, you continued on “But when we saw Ada just now?”

“I barely trust her with my own life, you think I’d trust her with yours? Better she have no idea who you are.”

Everything was starting to make sense now. You started to feel so stupid thinking of all your wasted emotions and pain. The stupidity you felt was quickly replaced however by pure joy. You were right, Leon did feel something for you.

“I can’t believe I spent all this time away from you and it was for nothing.” You grumbled.

“Well not for nothing”, Leon smirked, staring down at you, “I heard you’re one hell of a shot with a 12 gauge now.”

You laughed, a genuine laugh, and Leon’s smirk grew bigger.

“Let them say what they want about my reputation Leon, I have a feeling they won’t dare.” You smirked back at him.

“In that case…” Leon grabbed your chin and leaned down, his lips connecting with yours. It was so soft, so gentle; his lips meshing with yours so perfectly.

You both disconnected, a comfortable silence hanging between the two of you.

“For a man who doesn’t pride himself on his self control, that kiss was pretty impressive.” You teased Leon.

“You know, teasing me isn’t going to help that so called self control of mine.” He teased back.

“I’m counting on it, Kennedy.” Using his last name on purpose, only fueling the fire.

Leon moved faster than you, throwing you over his shoulder and giving you a slight smack on your rear, earning a squeal from you.

“Where are we going?” You laughed, trying to lift yourself off his shoulder.

He jumped slightly, making you fall back down onto his shoulder.

“Someplace more private”, he responded “I intend on hearing my first name fall from your lips tonight, over and over actually, until I can be sure you won’t forget it again.”

You stopped trying to lift yourself up and surrendered into his hold, after all you had a long night ahead of you….

——————————————————————————

I LOVED THIS SO MUCH😭😭I hope this was the pt 2 everyone wanted! I’ve officially reached over 200 followers here and I’m so flattered❤️❤️I love this fictional man and am so happy I found others who do too😂enjoy my writing lovelies😘😘

(Also sorry if this looks funny, I finished it on my phone)

Taglist: @levisbebe

@momma-vi

@apathetickun

@animesnowstorm

@the-abyss-of-fandoms

@warm-milk-with-honey

@crystaldwightsworld

@lottathoughts

[mmoonwrites]

↷ bathroom stall

featuring : hughie campbell

AUTHOR'S NOTE : i noticed there is a severe lack of hughie content on this site... had to fix (this now has a PART TWO !)

word count : 1.2k contents : afab!reader, smut (minors DNI), oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talking, hughie calls reader "baby" a lot, dubcon, alcohol/drinking, one night stands, dirty bar bathroom sex, definitely not proofread

after more than enough inside of your favorite little dive bar, you’d found yourself wrapped up in a pretty stranger’s arms and your hands in his hair: you wouldn’t normally consider going home with somebody you just met, but it’d been a long week and you needed this. the static from the radio playing in the corner granted you the passage to forgetting yourself and tuning into the warm buzz as much as possible outside of your apartment.

tonight, you weren’t you, or maybe you were more you than you’d ever been–who knows the difference anymore? all you knew was that nobody in your life would expect you to be out drinking in the middle of the week like this so late and all alone, and the freedom was incredible.

you let out a long exhale into his ear and slid your hands to hang loosely off of his person as you began to speak. “let’s go somewhere we can be alone,” your voice was just loud enough above the music and people that you knew he’d hear it. the two of you’d been clashing teeth and tongue for a while, and you knew he was facing the same urges you were from the stiff feeling pressing against your hip.

“f-fuck, are you-” he practically trembled under your touch, “are you sure? i-i mean, i don’t even know your name yet and-”

“i’m more sure right now than i’ve ever been.”

it only took you a minute or two to make your way into the bar’s bathroom with him; the music now distant and foggy to you as the man guided you into the first stall while you kept kissing and biting his bottom lip. your hands had already made their way to undoing his buckle by the time he managed to lock the door. expletives leaked from his mouth as yours left kisses down his neck–as soon as your hand got him out of his pants, you took no time to tease him through his underwear and reached in to touch him properly.

“god, fuck.” he hissed as he pressed his back into the stall door. a gulp left his lips before he spoke again, this time more nervously. “h-hughie- i’m hughie.”

you smiled at how sensitive he already was. “you ready to have my mouth on this big cock of yours, hughie?”

his mouth morphed into a small O shape as his brows furrowed and he nodded. “god, yeah.”

your hand held him in place as you licked the first long stripe along the bottom of his shaft and heard his head roll back against the door with a small thud and a groan. you could already see just how impatient he’d gotten from the littlest bit of touch from you–after a small kiss to his tip, you finally took him fully into the heat of your mouth. you bobbed lightly as hughie spilled praises above you and placed his palm to the side of your head. “fuuuuck, i can’t last like this- your f-fuckin’ mouth.. ‘s too much.” hughie gasped as his dick was met with the cold air of the room as you removed your mouth with a wet pop sound.

“then fuck me already.” you spat, licking your lips of the taste. he didn’t waste a second in pulling you up by your arms to kiss him again, his hands finding their way to your ass and squeezing as he drunkenly grinded against your figure. a line of saliva stretched between you as you turned your back to him and placed your hands on the wall.

a selfless moan left your lips as he began rutting against your clothed ass–the friction was far too much even for you now. hughie’s hands quickly made their way into the band of your pants and pulled them down in a quick motion. his wrist slid between your thighs and rubbed the very apparent wet spot now formed in your panties. “so fuckin’ wet already.” he spoke quietly as he played with the little coil forming in your tummy.

“hughie,” you desperately took one of your hands off the wall and intervened in his handiwork to slide your underwear over. “c’mere.”

“fuck, baby. o-okay.” hughie couldn’t’ve grabbed himself quicker into his own hand–he gave himself a few weak jerks before lining himself with your hole. the feeling of your warmth surrounding him was overwhelming. the two of you moaned in tandem as he slid in until he bottomed out.

“you- you feel so fucking good.” you spoke slowly, carefully, as the feeling of him stretching you clouded your mind.

“can i move?” he asked, his voice rasped and echoed in the room as you answered with a weak nod, too foggy to speak properly.

as soon as hughie saw that you were good to go he gave one or two slow testing thrusts in and out of your pussy, groaning as he pushed himself back into your wet heat one more time before really losing control: it was like a wire snapped as his hips suddenly smacked against your own much faster than before. the feeling forced a rather loud yelp out of your throat, and hughie quickly took that as an opportunity to wrap an arm around you and clamp his palm over your open mouth.

he leaned in closer and you could feel his breath against the shell of your ear as he whispered. “be quiet for me, pretty girl.” he kept his other hand on your hip to keep you properly positioned on his cock. “i know, i know- it’s so much, baby. i know.”

you could feel your eyes roll back at the tone change, the mix of his voice with the weight of him heavier on you was enough to send you over the edge.

no matter how much you whined into his palm, hughie continued snapping his hips into yours at a fast pace–you were close and judging by the way he began to sigh against you, you could tell he was too.

“‘m gonna fill this dirty fuckin’ pussy, okay baby? you want that? you wanna feel me spill out inside of you?”

you moaned far too loud for even his palm to fully conceal the sound as you nodded, your legs shaking as you felt the coil inside of you begin to slowly drive you mad.

“g-good baby. fuck- oh, fuck- i’m gonna- i’m-” hughie couldn't finish his thought before his legs shook and he filled you completely with his cum. and with a few more hard thrusts, you were quick to follow.

you both stayed in the position for a few minutes just taking each other in and panting while the music from outside of the bathroom became more noticeable again. once he eventually pulled out, he groaned as he watched his seed dripped onto the tile floor beneath you.

hughie helped you stand back up and rubbed the small of your back as the two of you shared another long kiss before breaking to pull your clothes back up.

“if you ever find yourself back here, look for me.” you mumbled against his chin, words weak.

he placed another wet kiss to your forehead as you melted into his arms for just one more moment. “i’ll be back.”

[lucky-clover-gazette]

captive prince short stories highlights & annotations

pet

(takes place during book 1: captive prince)

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

Ancel was a virgin the first twelve times he had sex. The thirteenth time, it lacked all plausibility.

‘You could buy out my contract.’ ‘How much?’ He made up a figure. There was no Lord Arten. Ancel landed his first contract that day: three months of his time, signed over to the merchant’s son.

‘I’ve never done it in public before,’ said Ancel. ‘You’d be my first.’

ancel leveraging subcategories of his virginity. smart

‘You’re not going to take him away from me, you slut,’ said the boy sweetly, murmuring the words too quietly for anyone else to hear. ‘Too late,’ said Ancel.

vere sucks. but i think ancel is playing the system more effectively than like anyone else there

Was this how men felt fucking him? No wonder they paid a fortune for it.

Fucking Lord Rouart, fucking every lord here. Being watched by everyone while he did it was like a blinding white light.

veretian society fucks ancel, ancel fucks veretian society harder

The room exploded in approval, cheers, calls of his name. He could hear shouts of suggestions, ribald calls to Lord Rouart in the thick excitement of the crowd.

there have to be at least a few people in vere who are not into this, but just kind of playing along to keep their—wait isn’t that the other guy in this short story

He was going to meet his new owner, and his new owner was going to fuck him.

ancel does not understand how cs pacat writes sex and power dynamics. nobody ever gets what they think they’re going to get

‘So, you saw me in the ring, and decided that you just had to have me,’ said Ancel. Berenger looked up. ‘No. I hate the ring.’ The words were matter-of-fact. ‘Parsins, hand me my jacket.’

i think i am going to really like berenger.

‘How old are you?’ As if Ancel hadn’t spoken. ‘Sixteen.’ Berenger gave him a flat look. ‘Twenty,’ said Ancel, the truth coming out with a flash of annoyance that he had to work hard to keep out of his voice.

He tried to recover. ‘And you?’ said Ancel, in his most velvet voice. ‘Now that you have me, what are you going to do with me?’ ‘I’m riding to Ladehors.’ Berenger was walking right past him, he was—was he leaving?

most normal guy in vere

Ancel had seen with his own eyes that Berenger owned six identical copies of the same brown jacket.

oh i love this character

He was dressed in a loose shirt of simple white linen and plain trousers, his red hair tied back in a casual tail with a single leather tie. He looked up when he heard footsteps, and then stood quickly, closing the book. An unaffected young man, rising startled to greet his friend. ‘My lord,’ said Ancel. ‘I’m sorry, I—you took me by surprise.’

this is so funny. ancel pretending to be what he thinks berenger wants him to be, which is just like another normal guy

'Oh this?’ A hand to his mussily tied back hair. ‘I wasn’t expecting you back so early. I can change into something more—’ ‘No. You look handsome.’ Berenger stopped and shook his head. ‘That is, when we’re not at functions, you should feel free to wear whatever you like.’ ‘Thank you, my lord,’ said Ancel. It was Berenger who took a step forward. ‘You’re reading Isagoras?’ Berenger was looking at the discarded book with its scrollwork pages. He looked up at Ancel in surprise. ‘What do you think of him?’

i like how ancel is doing a reversal of the makeover trope. he was hot and glamorous before, and now he’s trying to make himself look like a boring nerd

Ancel couldn’t read, but he had planned all this from the moment Parsins had pointed the book out to him.

LMAOOOOOO

Ancel ate the plain food with the good manners of a merchant’s son, and none of the teasing flirtation that marked his own profession.

what are you talking about, there’s never been a mention of homoerotic bread eating in this series before

It happened in the library one night several weeks later, as Berenger was talking about politics. Ancel nodded and half listened while Berenger said—blah blah the Prince, blah blah the alliance with Akielos—

‘In the end, aren’t we all looking for someone to be loyal to?’ said Ancel, softly.

ancel really just went down the checklist of things he was told berenger likes (loyalty in friendship in this case)

also, a note from post-reading the entire story sam: YES YOU ARE, ANCEL.

‘Is that what you want?’ said Berenger. ‘It’s what I never thought I’d find,’ said Ancel, ‘until I met you,’ and it was happening, finally, it was finally happening, the two of them drawing closer in the firelight, Ancel’s arms sliding around Berenger’s neck, leaning in to— ‘Ancel—no.’

‘You may have made assumptions,’ Berenger spoke first, not looking at him, ‘after I bid for you in the ring, but I—’ For a moment, Ancel didn’t understand. And then suddenly the rejections and the refusals made sense. ‘It doesn’t have to be like it was in the ring,’ Ancel said in rush, relieved to have discovered the root of the problem. He hastened to reassure Berenger. ‘I don’t have to be the one who does that.’

ancel i don’t think this is a top/bottom thing, i think berenger isn’t drinking whatever horny flouride they have in the water in vere and is just disinterested in the pet stuff

He waited for Berenger to get it. Berenger didn’t seem to get it.

because that’s not what berenger meant!! this dynamic is very fun. extremely self-assured and aspirational guy who only knows how to leverage sex and schmooze, vs chill-ass guy who is not really trying to get anything out of anyone and therefore not thinking or trying too hard

‘You can fuck me,’ Ancel explained. Berenger’s eyes went wide. Was that the wrong thing to say? ‘I’ve always done it that way before. It’s what I’m good at.’ That was the wrong thing to say, too. ‘I mean, I want you.’ That was better. He should have said that first. ‘I want you.’ He moved a step closer, made it personal. ‘The way you want me.’ ‘Ancel, you don’t have to—’ ‘I want you to fuck me.’ ‘That isn’t what I want.’ ‘Then what do you want?’ Ancel said, in pure frustration.

world’s first reverse beard has been invented

‘In six weeks,’ began Berenger, ‘I’m attending court. As a single man, I need a pet to attend dinners and functions with me. For propriety’s sake. That is all. I don’t expect intimacy in private. In fact I prefer in private that you—that you and I—’ ‘Court?’ Like a flower inclining towards sunlight, Ancel’s whole attention swung to the thought. He barely heard the rest. ‘You’re taking me to court?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘The royal court. At Arles.’ ‘Yes.’

such a fun premise for this story. ancel has a reason to stay (social climbing), berenger has a reason to need ancel (appearing to follow customs). surely they can help each other accomplish their goals while keeping this impersonal and professional, with no eventual mutual understanding or friendship or romance.

‘Well, I’m going to need a lot more jewels,’ Ancel said, his annoyance returning with a snap. ‘I know you like boring young men in cotton shirts, but I can’t wander around the palace looking like this.’ Berenger was staring at him again, like Ancel was a stranger he was meeting for the first time. Ancel lifted his chin. ‘What? I intend to make the most of our time at court. I am incredibly good at my chosen profession. Not that you’d know that.’ ‘It’s possible I didn’t realise how good until now.’ Berenger was still gazing at him with that new look in his eyes. After a long moment, ‘Do you even like horses?’ ‘I can’t read,’ said Ancel. ‘I see,’ said Berenger.

okay yeah i LOVE this. mask off for ancel, meanwhile berenger hadn’t even bothered to pretend in the first place. i mean he’s pretending in front of the court, but not ancel. it’s just nice that they’re on the same team, unlike SOME PEOPLE i’ve read about during this rough period of time in vere

The next morning, Ancel threw away the plain white shirt and the simple leather hair tie, and came down to breakfast in the clothes that he liked: exquisite silks and velvets that felt good against his skin, wearing his hair pampered and long and out. Berenger didn’t say, ‘I see,’ but the implication was there in the heavy weight of his regard as he looked at Ancel across the table. Ancel lifted his chin, ignoring all the uninspired foods that Berenger liked and biting into a fruit tart.

this story has done a great job of making me like ancel and berenger in a short amount of time. strong moments of characterization (the fruit tart, the jackets, etc), more simple and less subtle than damen and laurent, but still very fun to notice and appreciate

‘The horse I chose for you has arrived,’ said Berenger. ‘She’s a strawberry roan named Ruby. I wonder if you’ll like her.’

berenger and ancel’s first official date is a chappell roan concert. red hair and horses.

For his part, Ancel stopped trying to seduce Berenger, and started enjoying himself.

Perhaps Berenger preferred women.

i don’t think this is where the story goes, but i would actually kinda like if they were just friends, and that was in fact the case. or even better, ancel assumes berenger is straight and that’s why he’s not interested, but berenger is eventually like “no i like men, i’m just not attracted to you” or "i don't like my partners being 10 years younger than i am"

Every commoner in the province had a story about Lord Berenger: Berenger had remembered the name of their child; Berenger had stayed with them through the birth of their prize colt; Berenger had helped them with the purchase of equipment when they had none, saving the harvest.

berenger could not have been involved in the main series. i think he’d break the reader’s brain compared to laurent because he’s just like. a normal and decent person despite the horrors, and not trying to hide it beneath a million layers of complicated bullshit

‘No. I meant that the court has changed,’ said Berenger, shaking his head, ‘since the King died. The Regent’s influence—’

hate that guy

‘What?’ said Ancel. ‘Luxury suits you,’ remarked Berenger.

god i wish this could stay platonic. THAT would be the true subversion!

note from post-reading the entire story sam: with the full image we eventually get of ancel, i actually think it's even better that berenger admits that he desires him. it would feel kind of like a cop-out for the answer to ancel's unspoken question of "would anyone like me for who i am, if my attractiveness was not a factor?" to be "yeah this guy does, but he never would have been into you in the first place." it's even more effective, and even more a subversion of what ancel thinks of himself, for berenger to find ALL of him attractive—his ambition and talent and intelligence, in addition to his looks and performance—and not want to reduce ancel to the sex object that he (ancel) thinks he has to be.

Who was the new pet? How had he come to serve Berenger?

i’m getting the impression that the previous king of vere had not required people like berenger to have pets, but the regent does. which is why berenger hired ancel

Berenger then knelt for the Prince, who was standing to the left of the throne, a severe young man in harsh clothing.

GOD i hope i get to see a little bit of laurent being a withdrawn dryly comedic sitcom side character before damen arrives and it sends him into joker mode

Lady Egere had a horse program Berenger was interested in, so Ancel made her feel like the most important person in the world.

berenger not beating the normal person allegations. like yeah, that is what people do at dinner parties. they talk to other people about shared interests. good job, berenger.

And when everyone was talking about the Prince, and the conversation swerved uncomfortably towards the new Akielon alliance, Ancel stepped in and told the whole table a risqué story he’d heard about Akielon bed practices, diverting attention.

laurent sighs and makes a mental note to be slightly less hostile to ancel for that accidental favor

Even Berenger laughed when he got to the punchline.

‘I love them,’ said Ancel. ‘I’d sleep with you right now. I might even enjoy it for once.’ He stopped. ‘High praise,’ said Berenger, dryly. ‘Of course, with you, I’d—’ ‘Oh, of course,’ said Berenger.

oh NICE moment. ancel admitting that he doesn’t actually like any of this shit he’s doing. and berenger implying that he’s always understood that.

Another day, another brown jacket.

i love the brown jacket as a means of characterization and comedy

‘In blue or red, you could look quite handsome.’ It was something Ancel had noticed on the third morning, in the early light from the window. Berenger had a strong profile, good bone structure, and warm eyes. His waist, where Ancel was lacing, was trim, his body fit from riding. ‘Let me pick your jacket.’ Berenger sounded amused. ‘You don’t like my jacket?’

you don’t like his jacket????

He didn’t let Ancel pick his jacket.

good to know he has his hard limits

They had a good system in which Ancel filched the delicious confectionaries and special sweets and left Berenger all the plain stuff he preferred.

i love this for them!!!

‘I can’t believe you’ve never visited the coupling gardens. Do you feel no desires at all? Come on.’ ‘Ancel, I don’t think that—’ ‘Look, it’s those flowers from that boring poem that you like,’ Ancel announced proudly. He stood in front of the spray of white flowers. Berenger had stopped. The flowers were night blooming, filling the air with a delicate scent.

ancel please don’t talk about poetry in the mindfuck blowjob garden

‘You’re right,’ said Berenger. ‘They’re very beautiful. And rare. In the poem, the lover is given only a single flower.’ ‘What a terrible gift. I’d much rather have jewellery,’ said Ancel, wrinkling his nose. ‘Or clothes. Even the horse was better.’ Berenger’s mouth quirked, his eyes shifting from the flowers, amused and warm. ‘Yes, you’re a little more expensive.’

THEY SHOULD STAY FRIENDSSSS please!!! i want to see their odd couple not a couple adventures as neither of them actually falls in love bc they’re married to the grind (literally for ancel, figuratively for berenger). then again, we know that ancel doesn’t actually like being a pet, so i can see how this ends up a romance that works. but STILL

'I like feeling—’ Like part of it. Like the master of it. Like he had power over the men, like if they wanted him they had to pay a fortune for it. Like he was more valuable than the wine goblet Berenger held, or the silver pitcher a servant had poured from. Like he mattered.

ancel understands exactly how this stronger man/weaker man thing works, in that the weakest man is the one who forces others to the bottom so he can be on top. but berenger doesn’t do that, except for appearances. and he’s very clear that he knows it’s all bullshit too.

‘Perhaps I ought to think of it more like that.’ ‘How do you think of it?’ ‘I think,’ said Berenger, ‘that the only person in this place who shows me their real face is you.’

berenger: i’d probably be happier if i just allowed myself to enjoy the luxury and debauchery ancel: wait so what do you think instead berenger: that this is all fake and stupid as hell, and you’re the only one with the awareness to understand that and use it

‘I can make everyone look at me.’ There was the familiar frown, like an old friend. ‘Ancel, I told you I don’t want—’

“like an old friend” because he IS your friend, because he appreciates you for who you are, not for the ways you can perform

Gasps as they burst into flame, and Ancel tossed the stick high, a spinning wheel of dangerous light.

how did he like. learn how to do this. this isn’t something you can just do on a whim. although i guess it does suit ancel to play with fire

That was part of the thrill, sensuality and danger. He had everyone’s attention now. He tossed and twirled, and it was easy, all of it coming back to him, his childhood days before his profession had changed, before the escalating series of favours, until the moment he had finally agreed to it. You have to pay me extra. It’s my first time.

very effective way to give backstory: he was a performer, and then someone propositioned him for sex, and then he realized the possibilities of going into that kind of work full-time. it put the power in his hands, and people did in fact pay him more when he asked.

‘You’re full of talents, aren’t you,’ said a boy’s voice, and Ancel turned. The boy was very lovely and very young, with huge blue eyes and a tumble of brown curls.

my heart hurts

‘Since you like to play with fire,’ said Nicaise.

extremely bittersweet to have nicaise say one of my own thoughts

‘I’ve heard that Berenger likes women, and that he disappears sometimes from court, so that he can—’ Ancel flushed. He left the main hall and made straight for Berenger, who was sitting in an adjoining antechamber, on one of the long reclining couches, amid a handful of acquaintances, talking in small relaxed groups. ‘Kiss me,’ said Ancel as he settled, one knee on the couch on either side of Berenger’s thighs, his hands linked behind Berenger’s neck. ‘What?’ said Berenger. ‘On the mouth,’ said Ancel.

yeah they invented reverse bearding

Berenger was beginning to frown. Ancel thought, with a burst of irritation, I know you don’t want to, but can’t you just pretend? How hard was it? Ancel pretended all the time. Berenger had a reputation to maintain. But if Ancel said that, Berenger would probably reply with something idiotic like his own reputation didn’t matter to him.

ancel is so perceptive, compared to damen it’s like. jarring

It didn’t feel impersonal. He was instead extremely conscious that it was Berenger that he was kissing.

uh oh

His lips were tingling from kissing Berenger, and that didn’t seem to make sense.

UH OH

‘Like you mean it,’ said Ancel, and kissed him again.

UH OH!!!!

‘My lord,’ he said, and he sounded turned on, which was how he was supposed to sound. ‘Berenger.’

love ancel being in denial about having feelings

Ancel closed his eyes. He could imagine exactly what Berenger liked, lovemaking in the dark with a young man in a plain shirt. If they ever—Ancel would have to feign at least a degree of innocence, physically experienced but emotionally unprepared, looking up at Berenger and saying it’s never been like this before. He imagined that: imagined Berenger kissing him in private. A strange shaky feeling grew in him. Berenger would kiss with the same seriousness as he was now, he probably fucked like that too, strong and steady. Berenger’s voice in his ear, roughened. ‘You’re so good at faking it.’ ‘I know,’ Ancel said. ‘I know I’m good.’

ancel is down BAD for this brown jacket man, holy shit

‘How long do we have to stay here?’ Berenger said. ‘What?’ said Ancel. ‘How long do you normally take?’ said Berenger.

wait. so ancel in the garden scene. was half trying to make berenger jealous and half trying to convince himself that he’s better off doing what anyone else but berenger would ask him to do. and failing to convince himself entirely. LOVE that alternate perspective, so cool!!

It took a moment before he understood the words, and their meaning. But the way Berenger was standing off from him, like a man who has had his evening interrupted for a charade in which he has little interest, made everything clear. Ancel pushed down the feelings in his chest, closing his eyes briefly.

ouch

‘All right,’ said Berenger, and stood there, awkwardly. Ancel heard himself say, ‘Unless, do you want—’ Me. Do you want me.

i love how free will continues to be a theme in this series, even when we’re not discussing damen and laurent. specifically regarding desire and attachment, romantic and sexual. ancel doesn’t actually want to be the person he pretends he is, lowering himself beneath his masters and helping them get off on the power they have over him; he wants to be understood and wanted for his whole self. and berenger is like the only person he’s ever met who has wished to see him as something other than a sex object or performance piece, the only person who doesn’t wish to intimately possess or control him. berenger seems to want to experience love on even footing, which in vere is highly unusual. no wonder ancel is desperate for his interest, when his interest is actually REAL.

He thought, he could make Berenger like it.

free will theme again! he made berenger like it, it wouldn’t be real. and ancel wouldn’t like it either.

‘I think we both know this isn’t working,’ Berenger said in a low voice. ‘This,’ said Ancel. Berenger wasn’t looking at him. ‘I’ll pay out your time in full. We can separate after you perform for the Patran delegation. You can tell people your contract simply came to the end of its time.’ ‘You’re ending our contract,’ said Ancel.

BRUTAL. and the thing is, berenger is being kind and selfless here. ancel has told him with words and actions that he only cares about upward social mobility, and has made it seem like berenger is holding him back. berenger is putting himself at a huge disadvantage in the regent’s court by letting ancel find another employer, but probably feels like this is the best way he can genuinely honor ancel’s stated wishes. sad little miscommunication moment, although i don’t think it’s fully that trope because ancel only subconsciously realized how he feels like five minutes ago

‘Everyone will want you after your performance. You won’t have trouble finding men to bid for you—’ ‘I know,’ said Ancel. ‘I’m the best pet at this court.’

ancel does his fire dance to “my kink is karma” by chappell roan as he desperately tries to repress his feelings

He didn’t know why, but the next day when Ancel saw Berenger talking in a low voice to Lord Droet’s pet, it made him angry, and he stalked out of the stuffy, overlit rooms, into the cool shade of the gardens.

oh, captive prince chapter 5 dubcon (and that’s generous) scene that damen took way less seriously than myself or even laurent because he (damen) grew up with sex slaves so this is kinda normal to him. oh, captive prince chapter 5 dubcon scene that, despite its problematic nature, was and still is extremely compelling to me, by which i mean unfairly hot

It was the Ambassador to Vask, her face familiar to him from a dozen evening entertainments. Ancel knew her sculptured style of dress well, the Vaskian elements she incorporated into her clothing. She had the straight-backed posture and poise of a woman used to power.

VANNES HIIIII VANNES

Vannes spoke. ‘You and Berenger are utterly mismatched. And you’re clearly ambitious. I hope you won’t hurt him too badly when you move on.’

she sees the version of ancel that he knows is wrong for himself, but he’s leaning into it because berenger’s kinda-rejection hurt so bad

Everyone would think what Vannes thought, that Berenger couldn’t hold Ancel and Ancel was moving on to someone better.

i like how this is so high stakes to ancel, for good reason, but we know that there are way higher stakes batshit insane things happening with damen and laurent right now. but ancel doesn’t care about damen and laurent. he cares about himself and berenger. just a really cool way of showing another pov for the same story!

Ancel thought of the impossible. For pets, it was epitomised by one man. The Prince. The Prince, who had never taken a pet. The Prince, who had never taken anyone, or been taken, so they said. They said he was frigid, that he had ice in his veins, that pets failed to interest him. But there was one person who had the Prince’s complete attention.

YHRWYOEGRUYWEGRUYWERHBFSDF

By the time Berenger and the others arrived, Ancel knew exactly what he was going to do.

i LOVE having this context, wow! it doesn’t really change the nature of the original scene, but adds dimension in a super satisfying way. i also really like how this works with the general vibe of book 1—it feels so isolated and depraved to read, you’re wondering “holy shit is everyone here besides damen just a terrible person?” and that’s the point, but with this addition from another perspective it’s like, hey, berenger was there the whole time. normal nice decent guy, caught up in the same shit as everyone else. who had only been trying to be kind to ancel and give him what he wanted, and most certainly did not want him to do what he does here. it reminds me of loyse, and the way she’s incorporated into the main series—so much of damen and laurent’s experiences early on are defined by struggling alone, but they’re both less alone than they thought, both in terms of sympathetic company and people dealing with the same problems they have. this is seen both in the way they are with each other, especially with the slow burn of 'Laurent is Not As Bad As Damen Thought He Was With More Context,' and the way people like loyse are slowly revealed by the narrative. it's just neat. if i ever re-read captive prince, i’ll be like, “oh it’s berenger!!!” and the scene will, in some small way, feel less isolated.

Physically imposing, and dripping with disdainful pride, he looked as though he could break any handlers in half.

love this description of damen as having “disdainful pride,” because so much of his internal narrative is considering himself a victim, which he is. but also, he is very disdainful towards this society, and prideful about his own. damen himself admits that he had prejudices and misjudgments towards vere and blind spots regarding his own society at the end of king’s rising, and it’s cool to see ancel get that impression immediately.

The younger blond slave pressed his forehead submissively to the floor, a pose that seemed designed to make you want to step on his head. Ancel found himself unaccountably irritated by the passivity.

obviously both systems are bad, but if you read my main series annotations you know i’m very much in agreement with ancel here

Berenger was frowning.

normal! reaction!

He looked scornful and unimpressed when his eyes passed briefly over Ancel, Berenger and Vannes. His only movement was to shift slightly, a rearrangement of muscle.

i looooove seeing damen from the outside, wow

Arriving in the bower, the Prince of Vere was instantly commanding, with nothing soft or yielding in him. A young man with golden hair, cold blue eyes and an arresting profile, he had a pet’s looks and a Prince’s bearing, laced up tighter than Berenger, in dark, severe clothing. He looked capable of mastering the slave through force of will, as though the slave’s discomfort was his pleasure.

good to see, in this case, that laurent is very much perceived exactly how he is trying to be perceived. we know that this is for his own safety, and it isn’t harming ancel at all. unlike in captive prince book 1, where damen is being directly harmed by laurent and his rancid vibes, albeit for stronger reasons (he knows who damen is) than either damen or the reader understand.

‘Ancel, no. He could hurt you.’ Ancel ignored Berenger, and spoke to the shoulders and back of the Prince.

this is so cool. when i read the original scene, it seemed like berenger said this out of like, petty distate for akelions and maybe jealousy. but now we know it’s because berenger thinks that this is all fucked up, and doesn’t want ancel to get hurt by his own ambition

‘Would you like that?’ Berenger frowned. ‘No. I wouldn’t.’

“would you like that [i get hurt]?” oh ancel :( and you know that he thinks berenger would, or at least wouldn’t care either way. because ancel is just 20 and emotionally undeveloped and seems not to have been truly cared for in his life

again, i assumed originally in this scene that unnamed berenger said “no i wouldn’t” because of jealousy. but that isn’t true! berenger already told ancel that he can leave! he just actually cares about ancel!

The Prince turned, and Ancel found himself the sole subject of the Prince’s attention.

i like that we know he isn’t, because the only living people capable of completely hijacking and consuming laurent’s large capacity for thought are the regent and damen

‘I think your master would prefer you intact,’ said the Prince.

in captive prince, it adds, “said laurent, dryly.” but it’s not dry to ancel, he doesn't want to acknowledge the fact that laurent is deeply unamused

‘You could tie the slave up.’ He saw the moment the Prince took in the idea. There was something more in the Prince’s eyes, something private, though it was only there for a moment, before the Prince’s expression hardened.

well yeah, but he’s not thinking about you, ancel.

Ancel looked Berenger right in the eyes. ‘Tell me how you want me to fuck him.’ ‘I don’t want you to fuck him,’ said Berenger. ‘I do,’ said Ancel. ‘I want to do it with you watching.’

new dialogue, things damen didn’t hear! i think i kinda explored what’s going on here in previous annotations

You mean with the Prince watching, Berenger didn’t say.

this is strange. at first it seems like uncharacteristic pov head jumping, but then it’s like no, this is what ancel THINKS berenger isn’t saying. ancel cannot imagine that berenger’s reluctance here could be for any other reason than, like, petty jealousy of the prince. when in reality berenger just cares about ancel and doesn’t want him to get caught up with insane terrible people

Instead, Berenger frowned in that way that he had, turned to the handlers, and gave some instructions about safety.

so they DO have safe words in vere. although maybe berenger just invented them, that sounds like something he would do

Drawn by the rarity of the spectacle, a few other courtiers had drifted over, and then a few more, a small audience gathering.

love the mention of rarity, since damen assumes that this is totally normal

Ancel didn’t need Berenger. He was going to do it with the Prince’s slave, in front of everyone. No other pet had ever won the Prince’s attention.

ancel i know you were just dumped for the first time but this is not the slay you think it is

The slave’s eyes lifted to meet Ancel’s for a moment, radiating fury, before he turned the full force of it on the Prince, who just stared back at him coldly.

don’t worry about it. they’re fine

He wasn’t a court pet, or a brothel client. He was an Akielon, named for the Akielon prince-killer.

oh my god. imagine ancel’s reaction when he learns that he had unknowingly given the future king of akielos a bj

Ancel could see, as he put his hands on those thighs, that the slave disliked him. That was irritating. Did he think Ancel was salivating to suck his cock? Pets had to do things they didn’t like all the time.

obsessed with the way ancel is projecting berenger onto this. a really neat subversion of the way he intentionally and performatively projected that other guy in order to win his favor. also fun because in the scene from damen’s perspective, ancel is very literally a projection of laurent. neither ancel nor damen are imagining this with the person actually doing it with them. is this what the “mutually unrequited sex” ao3 tag is for

It had been a long time since Ancel had given head, thanks to Berenger’s prudery. It was disconcerting, uncomfortable at first, like he didn’t want to be this close, or put his mouth on it. He pushed past the feeling. He was good at this. He knew what to do and how to do it. The uncomfortable feeling grew. The slave was too stupid to realise he was supposed to be performing.

the way it’s almost a good thing that ancel is uncomfortable right now, because it means that he’s in some small way breaking out of the fucked-up mentality he’s grown up with

love damen and ancel as foils, in terms of pride. ancel takes pride in his willingness to get his hands dirty and perform submission for social clout, damen takes pride in his unwillingness to get his hands dirty (compromise his morals) and give his submission to those who don’t deserve it. but while damen's pride is held up by honor and integrity, ancel's is held up by his own degradation.

How had he ever achieved a court position, with skills this poor? Wasn’t he trying at all?

if you really think about it, damen was a nepo hire

Ancel felt the slave jerk, his cock hardening as the Prince settled himself on the bower seat alongside them.

well, damen, i guess someone noticed how you feel about laurent

i don’t even think laurent fully notices how down bad damen is for him at this point. i think laurent just believes damen is a depraved pervert ruled by his base urges who uses sex slaves and finds him hot just like everyone else and also KILLED HIS BROTHER

‘Like this?’ The wait was deliberate, to make the Prince say it. ‘Like that.’

5d three-way dirty talk happening here. it’s not four ways because berenger definitely has clocked out by now

‘Take it all the way down,’ said the Prince, and Ancel took it deep into his throat.

i like how laurent’s dialogue is slightly different between the two scenes, and damen doesn’t register some of it, and ancel doesn’t register some of it. cool way of writing the different perspectives and showing the things that are distracting both of them, causing them to think about things other than laurent’s words. ancel is mostly thinking about how he can do this in a way that gets him noticed and hired, while damen is mostly thinking about how absurdly turned on he is by laurent being insane

Ancel half expected the Prince’s hand on his head, pushing him down the last inch, but when he glanced up, neither of the men were paying him any attention, their eyes locked on one another.

sorry ancel, they gaze a lot. it’s kind of their thing

He came up without coughing or needing a breath, a cultivated skill that was often admired.

not by damen or laurent, at the moment

It didn’t matter that the Prince didn’t seem pay him any attention, or that he was only a conduit. The slave wasn’t even looking at him. It was what he wanted.

ancel when he lies

The two of them were locked together, Ancel utterly forgotten as he rose unsteadily to his feet.

god that sucks ancel but it’s also so fucking funny (as i said in the capri chapter 5 notes, i am not taking the dubcon as seriously as i could because the book doesn’t take it seriously in this scene. damen’s rage isn’t at the lack of consent, because this is actually pretty normal to him, and not seen as demeaning in his society for a slave to do. i think more than anything else he’s mad at himself for being into this, which means that he’s mad at laurent and ancel for making him confront the fact that he’s into this)

Courtiers crowded around with accolades, comments, and congratulations. ‘You really are the perfect pet,’ and ‘I’ve never seen anyone take it like that,’ and, ‘I’d pay a fortune for you.’

but it doesn’t matter, because they’re not berenger

Berenger had a hand on his shoulder and was staring into his face. Ancel lifted his chin. ‘Did he hurt you?’ The words were short.

😭 😭 😭 😭

‘I liked it,’ said Ancel. ‘I like sucking cock. I’m a pet.’

ancel when he continues to lie

Torveld, Prince of Patras

oh i hate that guy

It was the blond slave from the bower. The insipid, spineless creature who made you want to pinch his skin, or shake him to wake up. Like a useless doe in a forest. Expecting someone else to help him. With looks like that, the blond slave could have owned this court if he’d put any work into it. Instead he was trembling and helpless and waiting for a rescue that was never going to come. It was irritating.

yeah. if not for my distance from both of these worlds, and the fact that i can afford to be more empathetic and thoughtful than ancel, this is about where i’d land too re: akelion slaves. (if you read my previous annotations of the series, i probably don’t have to tell you that.) i just like how strongly and disdainfully this is written, while still within itself being flawed. like he’s right, but it’s a sad kind of right. it’s pointing out the problem but disinterested in a solution. but it isn’t ancel’s job to have a solution, it’s the narrative’s job. and we see that happen, in a very careful slow burn from damen’s pov, during the main series.

i can’t believe people think that this series is slavery apologism. 99% of the time, this series is DETERMINED to hold itself painfully and uncomfortably responsible for the problematic content it contains. and that 1% is different for every person who reads it, based on their personal tastes and values. and that’s good, because even our favorite fiction should be something we engage with critically, rather than passively accept.

‘A whole night with the Regent?’ Ancel twirled the stick. ‘Aren’t you jealous?’ ‘I’m not jealous,’ said Nicaise. ‘You’re old.’

‘Then the Regent will call you to attend him. Everyone will see you sitting with him. That’s what you want, isn’t it? The bids for your contract will go up.’

i’m going to try to remember why this is happening. i know it’s some elaborate and probably petty bullshit. i think it’s something like 1) laurent got his ethics called into question by the guy who killed his brother and then 2) decided to do what damen asked and help the akelion slaves because he knew it was the right thing even though he hated damen so bad, therefore 3) laurent needed to create circumstances that would cause torveld to “save” them from the regent without his (laurent's) direct intervention so 4) laurent antagonized nicaise into making a bet that his (laurent’s) plan to get torveld to take the slaves wouldn’t work and then loudly talked about that plan in front of nicaise, prompting 5) nicaise to arrange a sadistic performance of slaves for the regent so the sadistic regent would want to keep the slaves, therefore winning nicaise the bet against laurent 6) which laurent knew would literally backfire because the fire would frighten the slaves and then prompt to torveld take them out of sympathy and pity. yeah i think that's it

It made Ancel angry. This mewling creature who had been brought to court and lavished with every opportunity that Ancel had worked for, was doing nothing to advance his own career, even now. But in the next moment Prince Torveld was calling the slave over, and—rather than booting him out of the hall—was fussing over him, talking to him, stroking his tousled blond head. Ancel gaped. Prince Torveld was taking the slave into his household? For what? For being too weak to survive at court? The unfairness was terrible. If Ancel had wanly lain down and waited for a rescuer, he would have died in the street.

i really like this short story. i like ancel’s character, and what the story is trying to say. it fits very nicely with the overall series themes about weakness/strength, submission/domination, and free will. also intimacy and trust, although that’s almost by omission.

‘Tell me about your master,’ the Regent said. ‘Lord Berenger.’ ‘He’s boring,’ said Ancel. ‘Serious. Loyal.’ ‘Loyal to my nephew,’ said the Regent. He spoke pleasantly, tweaking Ancel’s hair as he did so. The sharp tug hurt.

WOAH THIS IS COOL. we hardly got to see any of the regent’s private contributions to the complicated vere court nonsense in captive prince (there was that scene where he talked to damen alone, but that might have been it?)

‘Loyal to the throne.’ Ancel’s heart had started beating faster.

i like how the regent equates his nephew with the throne. so different from how he talks to laurent in front of the council. clearly, out of earshot of anyone who actually matters politically, the regent is threatened by his nephew.

‘I’ve heard he’s met with my nephew, several times. What was discussed?’ ‘I couldn’t say. I wasn’t there for the meetings.’ He kept his tone light. ‘So there were meetings.’

berenger you’re so real for that

His mouth felt dry suddenly, and it was hard to swallow. He thought of Berenger in the hall somewhere behind him, wondered if Berenger was looking at him, thought he probably wasn’t. ‘No. I mean that I don’t know—I don’t know what meetings he’s taken.’

ancel can tell that berenger is in danger, and even though he thinks berenger wants nothing to do with him, he tries to protect him

‘Oh dear.’ The tone was disappointed. ‘I thought you were clever.’ The Regent shifted, forcing Ancel to reposition, awkwardly. He was motioning for one of the servants to approach, looking past Ancel as though he was done with him. ‘I am.’ Ancel’s heart was pounding. ‘You just haven’t asked the right question.’ ‘And what’s that,’ said the Regent. ‘If I’m loyal,’ said Ancel.

and here’s the temptation of ancel finally getting what he’s always said he wanted, he just has to throw berenger under the bus. he tries to avoid this by making berenger irrelevant and putting the attention on himself, but we know that the regent does not give a shit about ancel, politically or sexually.

Ancel watched him turn away, watched him enter the darkened part of the rooms that held his bed, beginning to unlace his own jacket. ‘I didn’t tell him anything.’ The words were a blurt, delivered to the back of Berenger’s shoulders. Berenger’s movement came to a halt.

i really like ancel.

‘About you and the Prince. That you’ve been meeting secretly each night. That you’re taking his side, that you’ve offered him funding and passage through Varenne, I didn’t tell him any of that, I thought that you—’

oh shit it’s that deep!!! fuck yeah berenger! wait does that mean that berenger had been loyal to laurent and thinking he was an admirable person for months/years only to see laurent in full sadistic kinky joker mode with a person who he doesn't know is laurent's brother's killer? do you think he was like "oh great, he's actually a freak too. fuck my life"

Berenger turned. Berenger was across the room, his hands on Ancel’s arms, gripping him tightly, his eyes boring into Ancel’s. ‘Stop it. You’re spoiling my clothes. I didn’t tell him. I told you. I didn’t tell him anything.’

oh, ancel immediately thinks he’s going to be punished and stripped of the nice things he’s been given. that’s so fucking sad :(

‘How do you know about any of that?’ ‘Just because I like nice things, and don’t read the boring books you like, doesn’t mean I’m stup—’ ‘This isn’t a game, Ancel.’

most! normal! man! in! this! series!

‘I’m trying to secure my future! I need to go somewhere. After you—after you end my contract.'

true, and explains some of the desperation ancel typically chooses not to acknowledge because of his pride

‘So that’s it. You want gifts?’ Berenger said, in a flat, deadly voice, ‘Are you trying to blackmail me for money?’ Ancel felt his mouth turn to sand. ‘No.’

ancel doesn’t want gifts! he wants a friend!!! i love this story, especially in this shitty world!!!!

‘I don’t want—I told you, I didn’t tell him anything. I wouldn’t. I was your pet, I thought we—I don’t want your money like that—’

going to be HUGE when ancel learns how healthy friendships and relationships work. people just do nice things for each other, and are loyal to each other, because they care and it’s what they want to do

‘You must hate me.’ ‘Hate you?’ said Berenger. ‘Why would I hate you? You’ve always been honest with me. You never tried to hide what you were.’ ‘A whore,’ said Ancel.

oh fuck.

really, really good choice of a word there. it’s easy to get caught up in the insane gimmicks of the veretian court, the slight dark humor to it, the way pets act like they’re playing the game willingly because this is a way for them to be treated well and showered with praise. but deep down, this system exists so they can be perceived as whores, belonging and submissive to people whose power rests on their degradation. and deep down, that’s how they feel about themselves.

goddamn, it is cool to see the worldbuilding expanded upon from this perspective.

‘So what if I am? I’m not ashamed of it. I’m good at it. I can make men want me.’ His voice felt raw. ‘It just doesn’t work on you.’

FREE WILL, POWER, AND TRUST THEMES DING DING DING

Berenger would be just one more owner, one more man from his past, one more name on a list. There was a hard pressure in his chest that he had to ignore. He would turn and walk away from it, he would move on to the next man, and the next. ‘It works on me,’ said Berenger.

okay, i like it being romantic, i think. because just like damen and laurent, their friendship and romance are deeply connected. and i’m glad that these two characters can find each other and be REAL in the midst of the fake nonsense

The words, in Berenger’s honest voice, at first didn’t make sense.

ancel can’t accept praise if he knows the person giving it is being honest, understands who he truly is, and expects nothing in return. girl same

‘You’ve never—’ ‘You never wanted me to.’ ‘Is that what you think?’ said Ancel. ‘Yes,’ said Berenger, steadily.

berenger clocked that ancel didn’t really want to be any of this long before ancel did, and has always respected that. i’m glad that he exists in this world.

‘If the Regent prevails, I won’t have money or lands. You should be with someone who can give you the luxuries you deserve, not someone who’ll embroil you in—’ ‘That’s why?’ said Ancel. ‘That’s why you decided to break my contract?’ He made sense of that much. And he clung to it. He wanted to ask, Does that mean you’re not giving me up because you don’t want me? He didn’t know how to ask that. He was usually so good at asking for what he wanted.

this is so fucking good. oh my god, this short story has been like a masterclass of creating a contained and intimate plot that develops a character individually and in relation to another character, while using the world around them to synthesize relevant and gratifying thematic development. it just comes together so perfectly, and simultaneously feels laser-focused and extremely wide in scope. SO good.

‘Can you honestly tell me that you’d want to stay with me if it meant risking your position?’ Berenger said. ‘If I had no money?’ ‘I’ve never fucked anyone without it being for money.’ The words came out differently than he’d intended. The painfully straightforward way that Berenger had asked him that question meant that Ancel had given an honest answer.

they’re matching each other’s freak, if "freak" means “honest person moving towards a healthier state of mind.” meanwhile, damen and laurent—

It was Berenger who spoke. ‘When I saw you in the ring, I thought you were incredible. You were fearless, powerful. You took on every lord in the room, and beat them. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.’

oh i go crazy for “i want to possess you because i am compelled by your unique and attractive qualities and i want to keep you by my side, not because i want to degrade and reduce you until you’re beneath me.” which is probably why i really like the captive prince series by cs pacat, but not like 80% of fiction with similar kink-related premises

‘I don’t care what might happen.’ He was moving forward, because Berenger wanted him.

oh.

those two sentences didn’t quite get me to tear up, but uhhhh they came pretty close

‘If he fails,’ said Ancel. He was stepping into Berenger’s space. He put his hand on the laces of Berenger’s jacket, and Berenger didn’t move away. ‘But if he wins?’

:’) the metatextual conversation this story has been having with the reader the entire time, tied in perfectly with the events at the forefront. really, really well done.

final notes:

not going to lie, i think i liked this short story more than 40-60% of king’s rising. damn.

honestly, i kind of hope ancel and berenger don’t end up together immediately. berenger is still 10 years older than ancel, and is like the first person in ancel’s life to show him respect. what rings truest to me is the idea of them being close friends and allies especially during the turbulent wartimes, and hooking up a few times and enjoying it, but a much more confident ancel eventually considering other partners and at least making more friends. either ancel doesn’t end up romantically with berenger because there’s someone even better suited for him romantically and sexually, or he decides that he truly does want berenger because even though there are other people who would love him for who he is, none of them are berenger. either way, they’re close friends the entire time and it’s very sweet. i like them a lot.

[nathandrakeisabottom]

⋆ Nathan Drake: Domestic Headcanons ⋆

The long-awaited, completely unasked for companion piece to @durrtydawg's Sam domestic headcanons piece. Revel in my self-indulgent, self-absorbed, and grotesquely specific fantasies of getting to call Nathan Drake my house husband. A house husband who jumps off speeding trains with a handgun on the occasional Thursday.

Not only does our pretty boy Nathan Morgan need someone who grounds him— (though that can mean many things; Nate is anything but a one type man)

But for someone who he genuinely believes won’t judge him for who he is

With them, every morning is peaceful and slow 

Will come up from behind before breakfast with a slow grasp at their waist, a delicate kiss he doesn’t break for a good few seconds against his partner's cheek or neck (will literally sigh into it)

And he fucking loves if they do the same for him

Everything is slow and silence and sighs

(He’s rarely so fucking quiet, and he appreciates someone who he feels comfortable finally letting everything go for. His voice gets hoarse with how much he’s always screaming and snarking)

Will shudder more from morning intimacy than straight up sex; if he’s surprised by kisses up his back as he makes some (admittedly, pretty runny) eggs, he'll accidentally drop and shatter dishes like nobody’s business

Speaking of which, only ever gets the cheapest plates/cups because he’s always fucking breaking them (thrift store, preferably)

James Taylor, Norah Jones, Michael Buble, Red Hot Chili Peppers, and (oddly enough) Barbra Streisand for relaxing morning music 

And will white man boogie with a comically bit lip if they quietly, affectionately look at him for long enough 

Speaking of: despite his best efforts, as he starts to wake up, he’ll grow increasingly jokey and self-aware (but soft lil’ earnest boy always comes back eventually)

Will take all the trash and recycling out in one clean go, tucking shit between his bent elbows and under his chin; He’s not afraid of a challenge yes he can fucking do it by himself NO SHUT UP HE’S GOT IT

His partner hears the clang of soda cans falling on the pavement twelve seconds later

A Trader Joe’s BITCH

As much as he loves some sensory overload and a bajillion snack options, big supermarkets kinda overwhelm him

Also they’re always more expensive and this boy is a complainer (and if he can make his partner laugh while he’s dramatically whining, even better)

Literally the man who ACTIVELY LAUGHS at the names of products 

“A Blueberry WALKS Into A Bar? Do you get that? BAR? Oh, that’s goddamn hilarious.”

And then will laugh for a good minute in the aisle; fuck the old people side-eyeing him from the dairy section 

Overbuys groceries rather than underbuys; there’s a lot of food he doesn’t realize has gone bad until it’s actively going into his mouth

Expect to be investing in a good broom, because he constantly needs one

Will open a bag of frozen peas from the wrong side and all of a sudden he’s spilling the entire thing onto the hardwood floor

He just hangs his head with a long, forlorn sigh

God fucking dammit

And huffs before power-walking to the closet

But at least he’s used to it; he’s got a broom in every place he can hide one now 

LOVES to cook, but that doesn’t mean he’s good at it

Probably just likes the theatrics: catch him in double oven mitts and a dozen hand towels at the ready and a novelty apron that says “spooned with love”, “rubs his own meat”, “mister good-lookin’ is cookin’”, or “license to grill”

King of wearing an apron and nothing else without telling; loves surprises and loves giving them almost as much; and will absolutely play coy about it (“I’m just baking out here!! What are you screaming about?”) 

Relatedly, loves stealing his partner’s shirts without telling, especially if they’re too small

“Baby tees are for big, strong babies like me.” “But you’re gonna stretch mine out!” “Heh-heh. Nice.”

Is a fucking sucker for any sort of gender role switch, but also can’t help the flutter in his heart when he sees his partner doing his laundry 

It’s the intimacy of another person touching his clothes and wanting them to be soft for him; loves if they have to reach kinda high to hang them up in his closet, too

Fucking loves to make love to his partner— and yes he loves the phrase “make love”, leave him alone— or hell, do anything to them while the washer is going on heavy duty wash cycle 

Somehow related, but is a hippie at the best of times. Women got off using washing machines before there was anything else and it’s a part of history and now they are too and isn’t it beautiful we’re not all so different isn’t life and history beautiful

Loves smoking weed once there’s a lengthy enough break with his partner, coughs and needs water every time (“nah, I don’t need it” — starts hacking to fucking death)

Loves a local mall trip: J Crew, Abercrombie & Fitch, and REI are his go-tos; he always needs an excuse to go out

“Jeez, is this what the kids are wearing these days?” in any store that isn’t those three

Every time there’s a big ad of a hot guy in a canoe or a girl smiling so hard it looks like her teeth are gonna pop out, he loves to outlandishly mimic their expression to make his partner laugh

Touchy, clingy, whiney 🥺; uses a body pillow and weighted blankets when he has to spend the night by himself

Needs to be the small spoon (at minimum) once a week, otherwise he gets sad and grumpy but isn't quite sure why

“Let’s get some new furniture.” “What? We have Ikea right next door! I can just make it!”

Drills a hole too big or loses the most important screw and has to go buy new furniture anyway 

Adores above all else impromptu massages: whether it’s on the couch or in the bedroom when he’s on his belly watching TV; moans more shamelessly during those than he even does during sex

Those massages often turn into him begging his partner to ride him… or he just fucking falls asleep

By the way, will fall asleep in any position or location you could possibly think of; a habit from his childhood when he didn't have a bed to sleep in

Snores and drools, but not loud or wet enough to be too annoying

2 in 1 shampoo. One bar of soap.

Unless of course he’s all out or… curious about what delicious-smelling shit his partner has; maybe it’s like the reverse of when a dog pees on something to claim it. Something like that.  

Get. him. flowers. His favorites are daffodils.

Really into helping out in his community: soup kitchen, pet shelters, planting trees or veggie seeds for community gardens— and then will abruptly stop because he’s tired and doesn’t feel like doing it anymore 

Until the next summer when he sporadically goes — “You know what we should do?!”

King of late-night karaoke bars (especially if he gets wasted and busts into a weepy song that totally kills the mood)

On the same note, a big musical theatre lover. Wine and dine him!

Loves a dog, wants a dog, needs a dog

Never fucking trains or reprimands the dog but whatcha gonna do

Gets both super shy and vulnerable and horny when he's actively referred to as a “husband” ; loves a good big business partner/house husband roleplay (whether horny or just a joke)

Please, oh god please, do shortform improv with him every time he starts doing a bit

Living with Nathan isn’t always easy, or frankly cheap, but is so fucking gentle and so fucking happy, that you can no longer imagine a world where your life was anything but 🌼💙🗺️

If you hurt him, OP (and Sully) are out for BLOOD.

[auspicioustidings]

Firewatch Part 9

Summary: Johnny and Kyle come to a realisation and you take a chance to escape.

Words: 2.3k

CW: Kidnapping

You had mostly expected to wake up in Price's arms, but you instead woke up to see him asleep in one of the armchairs. He was a big man, it was a little ridiculous to see him sleeping in a chair. You glanced out the window, it looked like it was maybe late afternoon. 

Had Price stayed the whole time then? If he was going to stay why not climb into bed with you since that clearly seemed to be their play here? It kept you so off balance that none of them had… Well there were plenty of horror stories on the news for you to imagine. And they had kidnapped you. Four men had kidnapped you and had made it clear they at least wanted you. It was starting to sink in that at any time they could decide to have you and there wouldn't be much you could do about it. But they hadn't. The one time one of them hadn't backed off as soon as you asked there had been consequences for him.

You felt more rested if still exhausted, but it was enough to feel anger building again. It was infuriating that they weren't monsters. You didn't want them to be because the thought was terrifying, but at least then you'd know where you stood. At least then you could be solid in hating them rather than finding them to be the kind of men you would have liked to have known before this mess. 

It was a temptation to just roll over and go back to sleep in some form of protest, but you resisted and got out of bed as quietly as you could. Price didn’t stir and for a moment you had the mad thought that you could sneak out the window. You still didn’t have shoes, but if you snuck out and they didn’t notice would it give you enough of a head start? Would you even be able to navigate the woods? There was a dirt trail for cars to come to and from, it must go the whole way to town if the police had visited. If you followed it, kept just in the treeline so you weren’t so easily found…

You were starting to drift towards the window in a bit of a trance, the only thing snapping you out of it was the sound of voices somewhere else in the cabin. You paused and focused in to listen.

“--love her anymore?”

“Come on Soap, you think the same.”

“...aye maybe. Naw really what we signed up for is she?”

“That’s it, better bury our girl out in the yard then.”

“Och I’ll miss her ye ken? Spent so long loving her.”

You’d take your chances in the woods.

–

“I think I might actually have a crush on her.”

Soap gave Gaz a look that belayed the fact he thought what had just come out of his mouth was utter nonsense. He was sat at the kitchen island, fingers rubbing the fabric of the blanket Ghost had stolen from your house. Dosia was grumpily headbutting Soap’s legs and then pretending she hadn’t now that nobody she actually liked was about to pay her any attention. He had originally tried to pet her and gotten hissed at, so now he was steadfastly pretending she wasn’t showing him any affection to make her feel better. 

“Ye’ve been in love with her for a year and now ye have a crush?”

Gaz sighed and rested his head on his arm, staring at the fabric in his fingers. It was a blanket that didn’t seem like it belonged to you anymore. It had belonged to the girl he had loved that was true, but she had never existed had she? She was this delicate little thing, a pretty little dove he had wanted to keep on display and care for. 

That was not the woman in the cabin with them. No, that woman was brash and swore and fought. She had fuck all manners when she ate and snorted when she laughed and was trying to pretend she hadn’t. She treated her cat like it was her baby. She wasn’t some innocent little lamb either, she was a great kisser and wasn’t shy about barking at him to shove his fingers in her. By all accounts, that woman was not someone he would ever think was one he would like.

It terrified him actually. You were real now and you were not what he thought, so why was it so easy for him to let that dream girl go? Why did he touch this blanket and not feel a damn thing after all that obsession? Instead there was another feeling bubbling up when he thought about you. He didn’t know if it was love, but then he was pretty sure what he had been feeling was never love in the first place. This new feeling was thrilling and fragile but he wanted to keep it. 

“I like her. The real person. She’s sort of a pain in the arse but she’s fun.”

“The real person?”

“We really fucked it all up didn’t we?”

Soap sighed and leaned over the counter, head lolling into one hand while the other played with the edges of the blanket. The tangible object they had associated with you all this time. Or well, that they had associated with some imagined girl. They really had fucked it all up. 

“So now ye just don’t love her anymore?”

“Come on Soap, you think the same.”

All things considered, he did. He smiled with a bittersweet fondness at the blanket, feeling like he was letting go of something. 

“...aye maybe. Naw really what we signed up for is she?”

“That’s it, better bury our girl out in the yard then.”

The two looked at one another with a grin. It was a silly thing to bury a blanket. But it was what it represented that was important. It was burying an obsession with someone that wasn’t real, wasn’t a person. It was letting go of what they thought they had wanted and embracing what it was they had, because even after so short a span of time they had realised that what they had was so much better. It was real. You were real.

“Och I’ll miss her ye ken? Spent so long loving her.”

He shared a small smile with Gaz. Johnny didn’t know how to pick apart the flurry of emotions in him and figure out how he wanted this to end, he just knew he wanted to keep talking to you, learning about you. It was going to be a lot harder now to keep you here against your will now that he liked you as a real person, but he was nothing if not a selfish bastard.

They put the blanket lovingly aside, Johnny gave Dosia some scratches behind the ears which she duly pretended was not happening while purring and they got to work making a frankly irresponsible amount of brunch in the hopes they could get to your heart through your stomach.

–

It was a miracle Price hadn’t woken up. A small part of you knew it meant he was exhausted as well, that this was hard on him. Well his two men were already about to get rid of you and presumably start again with a nicer, more receptive girl. She probably enjoyed cooking and cleaning. Was probably going to be wonderful and submissive and would never yell at them. Johnny would never lose his temper with her. Simon would never wind up punished because he lost control with her. Would Price go and buy her favourite shampoo? Would she like tasting oranges from Kyle’s fingers? You had.

The “road” really wasn’t much of a road. It was painful to walk on in bare feet and you were hissing every time you landed on a particularly sharp stone. You saw there was a pick up truck and considered stealing it, but you didn’t want to go searching for the keys knowing it increased the likelihood of you getting caught. When you glanced in just to make sure they weren’t in the car you saw it was a stick shift. Well that idea was out, you had learned on an automatic and would absolutely stall loudly if you tried to drive this thing.

So you were walking. Not running because you would absolutely wind up with a broken ankle and then you were really screwed. You could grit your teeth through it. Your mind drifted to what the hell you would say when you emerged. If you told the police the truth then all four of them were going to jail. If you lied then they would be free to take you again. Christ you felt bad enough about Simon being banished to the tower, could you handle all of them being put in a cell?

God it was sweltering, a stark comparison to how cold it had been last night. You had to take off the hoodie and tie it off around your waist. Maybe you should tear it apart to wrap around your feet? But then what happened when the sun set and the cold came in. You hoped you would be out of the woods by then. This place would be terrifying in the dark. 

You stayed just off the road in the treeline, hoping that it would make it tricky to spot you from the tower if you were under the trees. At some point you stopped taking breaks fearing that if you stopped again you would not be able to get up. Your feet hurt, you were thirsty and hot and hungry. You wanted to curl up with your damn cat. It was with a dose of self-loathing that you realised you wanted to laugh with Kyle when she was mean to Johnny.

When you heard the distant rumble of the truck you moved further from the road, waiting for the sound to pass. They knew you were gone then. Were doing the most obvious thing first and going down the road to see if you were on it. You were far enough in the trees that you couldn’t see the road anymore. You hadn’t thought you had went that far, maybe only a few minutes, but you were turned around. You turned, trying to figure out which direction the road was with a mounting sense of panic. 

Fuck. Idiot! You had seen the stories about what happened to people who went off the trail this far in the forest. It was fine near the edge where your cottage had been, where there were little walking trails (although admittedly the first few times you had ventured out you hadn’t spotted them), but this far out? You knew that they always said you should stay where you are, wait for someone to come and find you. Except they had no way of knowing which part of the road you had left from. 

At least if you died it’d be on your own terms you tried to rationalise. They were going to kill you, but you had no guarantee they wouldn’t brutalise you first, so maybe wandering out never to be seen again was better. Just because your heart stupidly told you they were good people didn’t mean they were. You hoped they kept Dosia at least, they seemed fond enough of her. 

You were angry at the tears welling up, knowing that you couldn’t really afford to lose any hydration. There was a sudden bitter regret for making fun of those survivalist shows. You should have paid attention. Were you supposed to try get to high ground? No, you should find water. Did you just pick the direction that was your best guess to get to the road? You’d be able to see the stars when the sun fully set, and the brightest would be North you thought. Didn’t much help knowing North because you could not visualise a map. 

Your feet were so sore now. You sat against a tree, the discomfort of sitting on the ground vastly outweighed by the relief of getting weight off of your feet. You didn’t want to look and see how bad it was so you ignored it. You just let your head fall back against the tree trunk and closed your eyes, imagining you were back home. If the men that had kidnapped you were in your little imagining it was not something you would ever admit out loud.

–

Simon Riley did another rotation. Price had called it in an hour ago and ordered him to keep a watch for you while they searched on the ground. Fuck he was so mad at you, what were you thinking? When they got you back he was going to cuff you to the fucking bed anytime they left you alone. Night was falling, the temperature was dropping. 

“Come on sweetheart, give me something” he mumbled, looking for any sign from the trees. 

You would never have made it on foot even if you had taken the road, not without shoes, not so late in the day. It got dark out here, so dark you could barely tell where you were going without a torch. What the fuck had happened while he was gone? He trusted his team, he couldn’t entertain the idea that they might have been so cruel to you that you thought dying out there was better. 

It was another 8 hours until there was finally an update from Price over the radio.

“Found her. Get home Simon, she’s in a bad way.”