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samkerrworshipper · 11 months

Note

After seeing the pics of alexia at the Barça basketball game could you do one where she is finally playing the wag role for reader? Just overall enjoying being readers number one fan

on the sidelines

alexia putellas x reader

just a lil fluffy blurb that i wrote in half an hour… defo no proof read or spell checked so sorry in advance xo

desperately working on getting some more reqs out for y’all but i’m so overhauled with coursework that it’s taking me way longer so sorry if your request gets ignored as of rn mid terms are killing me ☠️

“A triple double, Y/n, one incredible feat, how do you feel knowing that your team is through to the play offs?”

You were buzzing, still coming down from the endorphin high as you tried to focus on the reporter who had been the first to attack you as soon as you’d finished shaking hands with your opponents, not even giving you the opportunity to leave the court.

“Every game is a team game, I’m obviously wrapped, but half of that wouldn’t have happened without my teammates. I’m obviously elated that we’re through to finals, the job starts now for us, everything we’ve worked for this season falls down to the next few weeks so we work hard, it’s not over until the final siren.”

The reporter smiled at you and you gave your signature smile back to the camera, trying to get this over and done with as soon as possible.

“The modesty is appreciated, but how did you feel about coming second in the league MVP poll earlier in the week?”

You bit down on your lap, it was a rude question, but you had been prepared for it.

“Obviously I would have loved to come home with the trophy, but it wasn’t meant to be. I have so much respect for Stewie and she deserved the award just as much as anybody else who we were contending against. Honestly, I couldn’t give two shits about individual awards, what matters to me is this playoffs series and maybe I can bring that trophy home instead.”

You smiled once again at the reporter and camera, slowly becoming more uncomfortable with the conversation the longer it went on.

“Now, we all have some questions about the trip down under you took a few weeks ago, any particular reason you decided to go home?”

You began to haphazardly fiddle with the microphone in your hands, willing for this interview to conclude so you could just enjoy your win.

“I missed home, the few days that I spent their were really nice and the team can tell you that since then I have been in much better spirits, sometimes you just need a reset and it was just really good timing that we had the two week break.”

The reporter smirked at you and you could feel the underlying question under her smirk.

“So nothing to do with your visit aligning with the World Cup final and one particular Spanish player who’s here tonight, sporting your number?”

You felt your face flush a little bit at the unforgiving blatancy of the reporter, very quickly trying to remember everything they’d taught you about avoiding questions in media training.

“A good friend of mine, Sam, extended the invitation and gave me some tickets to the finals games so how could I refuse? I mean the sheer pride for the Tillies that I held watching them progress was insane, nothing better than seeing women's sport be elevated at home.”

You could tell the reporter was nagging for you to answer the part of her question that you were ignoring.

“So just a coincidence then that you happened to spend a few days in Barcelona on a layover before returning back to New York?”

You bit the inside of the cheek, this wasn’t what you’d been expecting after winning one of the biggest games in your career.

“Are you implying something, Jackie?”

Your eyebrows rose in mock sarcasm, trying to laugh off the situation and make the reporter understand the message that this wasn’t something you wanted to talk about.

“Simply wondering whether you had anything to do with the presence of Alexia Putellas, or as we all know her, La Reina at tonight's game, and if she happened to be the person you were looking up at tonight everytime you scored?”

You shivered at the mention of her name.

“Alexia and I are good friends, and I will leave it at that.”

You smiled at the camera, enough of a smile that it was genuine but not enough to lead anybody on, because that wasn’t what you wanted to do, you wanted to leave them hanging.

“Good friends that wear each other's jerseys to each other's matches?”

You smirked at the camera, the annoyance of this situation slowly getting to you more and more.

“Good friends that just don’t pack enough of their own clothes when they visit.”

Your voice was dismissive, enough to tell the reporter that you weren’t interested in broaching the topic any further if she wanted to continue to have a conversation with you.

“So, quite the comeback you’ve made in the past 48 months, double back surgery is certainly an impressive feat, how has it felt returning to the court this season and competing at the same level that you were before your injury, especially after how the injury resulted in you sitting out the bronze medal olympic match?”

You could feel the sweat across your body starting to go cold, a true sign that you’d been talking for far to long.

“I’m obviously feeling great, better than ever really. Sitting out at the Olympics was devastating, obviously but I promised that I’d be back and here I am, I’m still working on my recovery, but hopefully by the time the olympics roll around next year I’ll be back fully and bringing home some hardware.”

The reporter laughed heartily at your weak joke, an action that made you a little woozy.

“I’m sorry but that’s all the questions I’ll be answering, my coach is getting rather antsy on the sidelines and it would do me some good not to annoy her right now, so I’ll have to wish you all a goodbye, and see you later for the playoffs.”

You sent a kiss towards the camera before handing the microphone and headset back to the filming crew before following your coach over to the sideline and then into the tunnel towards your change rooms. Sandy patted you on the back as you made your way back to the rooms, just consciously quickening your steps a little bit so you could make the distance as quickly as possible.

You’d never liked limelight, or any of the media attention. You’d started out playing country basketball with your siblings, out on the court all throughout the middle of summer. Eventually, after joining a club and playing some juniors you got picked up by the Perth team and then had worked your way upwards, but never had you played for the attention or glory, growing up, womens basketball in Australia was severely underappreciated, so you’d never had to really face any media attention. But the WNBA was a whole different ballpark and you were still adjusting after 6 seasons to the amount of ways you were now exposed to the general public.

Your whole body relaxed when you spotted Alexia standing beside the locker room door, hand in her phone, flicking furiously through it. You ran directly towards her, almost bowling her over with your strong strides.

She wrapped her arms around you almost immediately, allowing your to bury your head in her neck as you breathed in the scent of her, and the scent of one of your spare jerseys sitting comfortable across her muscley arms and chest. It was a sight for sore eyes, one that you’d been waiting far to long to see.

“I fucking hate reporters.”

Alexia snorted at you, it wasn’t often that she got to see you after games, both of you having extremely busy schedules that hardly allowed for time to go and watch each other mess around with a ball on a pitch or court for an hour.

“I know bebita, but you did so well.”

She concluded her statement in the very best way possible, plastering a series of kisses all over your face that made you giddy on the inside and had you pushing her off of you. The tunnel was a fairly safe place from reporters, but you could never be too sure who was creeping around and a part of you didn’t need your relationship being revealed right at this moment.

Something about having your number across Alexia’s chest set a fire in your soul and you stepped back from her embrace to take it in, to take in the sight of her standing in front fo you, her perfect shoulders on show, sitting comfortable beside the jersey. A few of her back tattoos peaking out from her shoulders giving you a indescribable view of the ink. Her collection was constantly growing and you swore every time she returned to you there was a new one for her to show you and tell you the story of.

She had paired the jersey with a plain pair of white jeans and her washed out pink hair was sitting comfortably on her shoulders, the strands being pushed out of her face by the Prada sunglasses sitting comfortably on her head, sunglasses you were certain had absolutely zero purpose besides being an accessory. You did have to admit that the pink had been your favourite hair in a long while, in fact you’d been the one who Alexia had convinced to help with the dye when she had one of her midnight crisis’ that had you marching down to the chemist to buy neon pink hair dye to make your girlfriend happy.

“I like it when you’re the wag.”

Alexia rolled her eyes, spinning around to give you a look at your brandished last name, sitting perfectly between the valley of skin that travelled between her shoulder blades, everything about it was so perfect to you, warming your soul from the inside.

“I do have to admit, it was quite fun sitting in the crowd for once and pretending I knew what was happening.”

You chuckled, you’d been trying your very hardest to teach Alexia the rules of your sport from the start of your relationship, and to her credit she had a grasp on the more basic rules, but she was absolutely shocking at much more than that. She watched every single one of your games, and yet she had absolutely zero grasp on how the sport of basketball actually worked.

“Look at that, La Reina admitting that she enjoyed being a wag.”

Alexia rolled her eyes at you, her hand coming to rest on your sweaty arm, providing some pressure to your forearm.

“Don’t you even think about telling any of the Barca girls, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You smiled down at Alexia’s hand, loving the way that her body slotted in so perfectly with you, she knew your body like the back of her own hand and knew exactly what parts of you she should touch in different situations.

“Don’t you worry your little head, this will be our little secret, at least until the girls find my post game interview.”

Alexia nodded concedingly, it was inevitable that your relationship was eventually going to come out to the public, neither of you were particularly stressed about it, it would happen when it happened. You’d gone three years without anybody catching on, only now heading into the fourth year were people really starting to recognise the relationship.

“Go shower, you stink.”

You let Alexia push you towards the locker room door, her face nose scrunching up in faux disgust at you.

“Yes ma’am, La Reina, ma’am.”

The older woman once again rolled her eyes at you, but couldn’t avoid your own hand reached out to hers, silently tugging her into the locker rooms with you. It wasn’t irregular for teammates partners to end up in the rooms after games, and you knew that Alexia would just end up waiting alone in the hallway for you whilst you went about your post game routine.

You lead her towards your cubby, seating her down on the bench before reaching down behind her and pulling out the few items of clothing and toiletries you needed for the shower. One quick look down at Ale revealed to you just how in awe she was of what was occurring around her. There was nothing special happening, most teammates doing similar things to you and beginning their post game rituals.

“Mi amor, I’m going to the shower now, just stay here, bien, and don’t hesitate to ask anybody for something if you need it, si?”

Alexia nodded at you aimlessly, her eyes darting around the room as she took in her surroundings, You took the opportunity to dip out of the room and into the showers, hastening your normal routine so you could return to her as quickly as possible.

You showered in record time, washing your hair and body so quickly you were certain you almost got whiplash from the jolting of your arms and muscles in every direction and you frantically moved around in the shower.

When you returned to Alexia she was in the same spot as you’d left her, her eyes still searching the room and taking in everything happened around her. It was cute to see her so out of place, it was something you’d never seen on her before and something about seeing her like a deer in the headlights made you fall so much further in love with her.

“Cãrino? Let’s go, yeah?”

Alexia’s eyes flashed up to meet your own, her lips falling to a genuine smile as she stood up from your cubby, and before you could pick up your bag she took the honours, collecting the things that you knew you’d need back at the apartment and piling them into your bag before sliding it over her shoulder and starting to walk out, her arm falling comfortably over you shoulder as the two of you met each others pace, walking out towards your car that Alexia had driven you to the game in.

She took care in placing your bag in the boot before sliding into the driver's seat, your keys clanking in the ignition as she started the car.

Almost as soon as she was pulling out of the stadium Alexia’s hand fell to your thigh, a comfortable reminder of the footballers presence.

“You played so well today bebita, I was so proud of you.”

You smiled waterily at Alexia, it was one thing for a reporter to tell you, but for the woman you loved most in the world to tell you that meant something else.

“Thank you, but don’t act like you knew what was going on.”

Alexia cocked her head to the side, frowning at you a little bit.

“Si, maybe, but you got the, what did they call it again? El triple doble, no? Marta said it’s kind of like a hat trick but in basketball lingo, you sunk muchos tres.”

You smiled at Alexia, nodding your head at the Spaniards lack of knowledge over the game you cared for so much, and her attempt at trying to talk basketball to you.

“Yes, I did score a few threes, all of them were for a special person who came out to watch me today.”

Alexia smiled at you, turning her head at the lights to look at you.

“Mm, who might that be?”

You bit your lip, breaking out in a big smile.

“She’s Spanish, and not very good at understanding basketball but she tries and that’s all that matters, she also looks really cute in teal.”

Alexia’s smile only grew at your admission.

“Oh, and she’s a pretty good wag if I do say so myself.”

Alexia silenced your words with a sweet kiss, pressing her lips to yours softly, the two of you having to break apart when the light turned green.

“I’d watch you any day.”

Alexia’s words were murmured quietly, an almost silent acknowledgment of her feelings that was meant just for you.

“I’d watch you any day as well mi amor.”

#woso #woso community #alexia putellas is mom #daddy alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas

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giannan04 · 14 days

Note

Can you please do a part two to the Jungwon one shot you wrote!🩷

Ask and you shall receive! A few people asked me to make a part two to my Jungwon X F! Reader one shot (https://www.tumblr.com/giannan04/760529750415589376/i-neeeed-panty-fucking-with-jungwon-ill-love) and I was thinking of writing a part two, I just didn’t know how much people would like the first part! I’m so thankful for everyone who supports my writing!🫶🏻

⬇️Part one is listed here ⬇️

Pairing: Best-friend’s brother Jungwon x F! Reader

Genre:Slight bad boy x good girl trope, smut. Best-friends brother

Warnings: SMUT! Cursing (F word is thrown around a lot), God’s name said in vain like twice (I’m a Christian 😭) choking, p in v, cream-pie!, unprotected sex (WRAP IT UP Y’ALL), oral sex (f! Receiving), choking, that’s about all I can think of.

MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT!🔞

You were always the perky cheerleader, dedicated to your academics and looking forward to college—just like your best friend, Niki. Everyone thought you two would end up together, especially since you were the head cheerleader and he was the quarterback of the football team. Jungwon, Niki's older brother, never let you forget that. He teased you constantly for being a “goody-goody”, for being just like Niki. But Jungwon was different. He was the bad boy who didn’t care about school, dropped out early because he was next in line to inherit their parents' pharmaceutical company (it would’ve been Niki, but he wanted to be a doctor), and spent his time smoking, drinking & partying, and bringing a string of different girls home every week—-much to the annoyance of Niki and his parents. Deep down, you always knew Jungwon wasn’t good for you, but something about him drew you in, even if you couldn’t stand his teasing, low-key flirting.

——-

It had been hours since Jungwon fucked you (and your panties), leaving you breathless and wanting more. The heat of his touch still lingered on your skin, making it hard to focus on anything else. You couldn’t stop thinking about the text he had sent when you finished earlier, the one that made your heart race: ‘See you in my room later. I’ll make sure you cum this time ;)’

You were now in the living room, curled up next to Niki, trying to concentrate on the latest season of ‘Attack on Titan’ but your mind kept drifting back to Jungwon. The way he had touched you, the way he spoke to and took control of your body with such ease—it was all too distracting. Niki, blissfully unaware, sat beside you with his eyes glued to the screen, excited to binge-watch your favorite anime. Every time you even thought about slipping away to Jungwon’s room, Niki would either start the next episode or ask, “Where are you going?” and “Why do you keep getting up?” trapping you in place.

Your phone buzzed again. You glanced down to see a picture of Jungwon’s hand gripping his hard-on. His dick was pressed against his boxer-briefs, begging to be freed. You squirmed on the couch, desperate to get up and leave the living room, but every time you did that, Niki would play the next episode. ‘I’m waiting for you’, the text read. Heat rushed through your body and your stomach fluttered, your body itching to get up and leave, but Niki kept chattering about the show, keeping you in the conversation. You could barely focus. All you could think about was how badly you wanted to be in Jungwon’s room.

Another text came in not long after. ‘Wtf are you doing?’ Jungwon's frustration was obvious, and you quickly typed back: ‘I’m trying to get away from Niki, but it’s hard!’

Minutes ticked by agonizingly slow, feeling like house until finally, Niki groaned, clutching his stomach. “Shit, I shouldn’t have ate so many snacks” he groaned, wincing. He stood up and headed toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna be in there for a while,” he added dramatically, and you watched as he dashed down the hallway.

This was your chance.

Without a second thought, you rushed to Jungwon’s room. The moment you slipped inside, you found him undressed, his lean frame illuminated by the dim light. He turned to you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Took you long enough,” he drawled, eyes raking over your body. “Strip.” He ran his tongue over his lips in anticipation.

You hesitated, suddenly shy, your hands trembling slightly as you stood by the door. ‘Why am I so nervous?’ you thought. ‘It’s not like we haven’t done this earlier… but still…’ Your mind raced. ‘What if he doesn’t like what he sees?’ You couldn’t shake the insecurity that crept in as you stood there, feeling his eyes on you. You couldn’t believe that you acted all impatient earlier just to be nervous in front of him.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing your hesitation. “What’s the holdup? I already fucked you earlier,” he said, his voice low and teasing, as he smirked at you.

“It’s different this time,” you muttered, tugging at the hem of your pajama shirt. “Before, it was quick… and I still had my cheer uniform on. Now it’s…”

Jungwon rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders, clearly unimpressed by your nerves. “It’s not a big deal. Get undressed.” He palmed his erection with impatience.

Your fingers fumbled with the waistband of your pants before you finally managed to strip. You stood before him, feeling exposed and vulnerable, your arms crossed over your stomach and chest. ‘Is he really going to like my body?’ The thought kept looping in your mind, but you pushed it aside, trying to focus on the moment. Jungwon’s gaze softened just slightly as he approached you, his eyes trailing up and down your body. He reached out, his fingertips tracing the curve of your waist. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

“Thanks,” you replied shyly, avoiding his intense gaze.

Jungwon didn’t waste any more time. He picked you up effortlessly, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bed; you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. He laid you down gently, pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss. Yet, as his hands roamed your body, he paused, sensing your hesitation. He pulled back, his forehead resting against yours. “What’s wrong now?” he asked, his tone sharp with impatience. “I already told you, you look good.”

You bit your lip, trying to find the right words. “I told you… this is different.”

Jungwon let out an annoyed sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Please stop overthinking it,” he muttered. “Just let me get to work. I wanna make you feel good.” You blushed. You wanted Jungwon. Badly. You knew he was right, you were doing too much overthinking about everything. “Okay.” Jungwon smirked at your response. He lowered back down and began kissing your stomach.

He trailed kisses down your stomach, his lips brushing against your skin as he moved lower. When he reached your core, he didn’t hesitate. He immediately flattened his tongue against your wet pussy lips. Jungwon’s tongue began to explore you, teasing and tasting, making your body writhe with pleasure. His touch was both demanding and tender as he focused on your clit, swirling his tongue and applying pressure. The sensation was almost too much, and you moaned, your hands gripping the sheets. “Oh my fucking God Jungwon. It feels so good.” You moaned louder, your fingers twisting in Jungwon’s hair as you pushed his face deeper inside you.

"Good girl," Jungwon murmured against you, his voice vibrating through your body. "You love this, don't you?" He picked his lips, using them to suck your clit gently.

The pleasure built quickly, and despite your exhaustion from earlier, your body responded eagerly. “Jungwon…I-I’m so close.” Jungwon’s skillful movements drove you to the edge, as he moved his tongue faster, and you cried out as you came, your body trembling under his experienced touch.

Once he was satisfied with your reaction, Jungwon shifted positions, his hands gripping your hips as he entered you from behind in a rough, commanding thrust, the sounds of your wet cunt filling the air. His dick plus the feeling of leftover cum from your last orgasm filled you with so much pleasure. The raw intensity of his movements made you gasp, each thrust hitting deep, relentless and powerful. "You’re so fucking tight," he growled, his breath hot against your ear. "Already came, and you’re still so perfect for me." Hearing him praise you while he fucked you so good left you craving for more. “Oh my god.”

His pace was unforgiving, his hips pounding into you with each stroke. You could feel his balls slapping against your pussy from behind. “I’m going to make sure you feel every inch," he groaned, pushing you further, your body arching and grinding back against him. His movements were punishing, but the pleasure was undeniable, making you cry out with each forceful thrust. “Yes, Won, you fuck me so good!”

Jungwon’s grip tightened on your hips as he felt his own release approaching. "I’m gonna fill you the fuck up," he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic and frantic. With a final, deep thrust, he came inside you, his body shuddering with the intensity of his orgasm. The warmth of his cum filled you, and he stayed buried inside, panting heavily. The warm cum and his thick cock felt so good inside you, you didn’t even want him to move.

Afterward, Jungwon carefully pulled out, his eyes still intense as he grabbed a warm cloth, which he already had waiting on his dresser. He began to clean you up and you felt the care in his touch. "You did so well," he said, his voice a mix of praise and control. "Such a good girl, taking everything I gave you." You’re murmured softly, that was all you could do. You were laying there spent, made a mess by Jungwon.

He leaned down, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs as he continued to clean you. "Look at you, all wrecked and perfect," he whispered softly, a teasing edge still present in his voice. "Can’t even move after all that."

He helped you into his arms, covering you with a blanket and pulling you close. His touch was soothing as he rubbed your back, but there was still that familiar sharpness in his tone. "Don’t get too comfortable," he warned with a smirk. "Next time, I won’t be so easy on you."

He pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, his hands lingering on your body in a caring way despite his earlier harshness. "You did great," he whispered, his voice softening. "You’re amazing." You really did like Jungwon. Besides how good he made you feel sexually, you could feel how much he cared for you. And he made you feel good about yourself. But you couldn’t help but wonder if Jungwon saw more in you than just sex.

As you lay there, deep in thought, Jungwon noticed the distant look in your eyes. "What’s on your mind?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

You hesitated, feeling a blush creep across your cheeks. "I was just wondering… what does this mean for us? Are we… official, or am I just… your fuck buddy?" You bit your lip nervously and played with your fingers, unable to meet his gaze.

Jungwon rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he pulled you closer. "What do you think? You’re my girl," he said confidently, leaning in to kiss you deeply. Before you could respond, he continued, "I’ve always wanted you. It drove me crazy that your little “good-girl” self was too occupied with school and your friendship with Niki to see that."

He looked into your eyes, waiting for your response. "Do you feel the same, despite what you’ve heard about me? I know Niki told you I’m not good enough for you”

You nodded, kissing him back with equal intensity, holding him close. "I do," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

Just then, Niki barged into the room. "I knew you guys were fucking!” he exclaimed, giving you both a stern look. "Seriously? I couldn’t even take a shit in peace without hearing everything! And you’re supposed to be my company, Y/N!”

The tension in the air was thick as Niki stared at you, in the same bed as his older brother. You laughed awkwardly, attempting to break the tension. “Um, I’ll be right back down, Niki.”

Niki huffed, rolling his eyes. “So, are you guys like “a thing” now?”

Jungwon smirked mischievously at his younger brother. “Damn right.” He leaned down and kissed you, not caring that Niki was watching. Niki wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Gross”, he said, turning towards the door.

Before he left the room, he looked over his shoulder, directly at Jungwon. “Just make sure you treat her right. I don’t play about Y/n.”

Jungwon held you even tighter, his face nuzzled in your neck. “No shit. I’ll treat her like a princess.”

You couldn’t stop the cheesy smile that tugged at your lips. You knew Niki wanted the best for you, but you had no doubt in your mind that Jungwon was good for you.

——

A/N: Y’all, Jungwon is a DOM and I will die on this hill!😭🫶🏻

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shattersstar · 1 year

Note

Please use this as a free pass to write "admiring them from afar" with anyone you want :^)

the hellcat spangled shalalala

pairing: college!au jason todd x reader

prompt: blossoming romance - admiring them from afar

warning: harassment mention (in joking context)

a/n: more college basketball au bc i say so! seriously tho thank u for the request it worked out as a great free pass ☺️ this can be read as a stand-alone or taking place after drawstring. comments r appreciated and i hope y’all enjoy ! and expect another part soonish <3

—

shot at the night series.

—

when your judgment’s on the run, and you’re acting like a stranger cause you thought it looked fun.

The morning sun casted a milky glow, pouring in through the windows and lighting up the store as clouds moved on. Summer began to roll through, exams a thing of the past as Gotham hummed with warmth. You were going to the beach sometime next week, even if it was over a two hour drive away, you were beyond excited. It had been easy to forget all about school, despite the fact the summer term was coming up and you were taking a course. On top of working at a cafe during the week, the gas station on weekend mornings, and still unpacking your new place, you were surprisingly busy.

It was why you hadn’t really seen Jason. Or at least what you had told yourself. You two were in a confusing place, you both knew you liked each other, had worked through some things, but you wanted time. To figure out how genuine your feelings were or if they were just because Jason admitted to liking you. It was nice to be desired, to be sought after, but you didn’t want to string Jason along.

Even if Jason took forever to tell you how he felt and handled it like an ass, he didn’t deserve that.

No one did.

The thought made you sigh as you looked over the columns of scratch and lotto tickets. You had never bought one when you turned of age and always wished you did. It seemed fun, if a bit pointless. You were engrossed with the paper coated in gossamer film that glimmered in the sunlight when the bell above the door rang. You peered through your lashes at whoever came in, heart skipping a beat as the object of your affection breezed through like an early morning fantasy. Jason sent you a quick smile before ducking towards the fridges in the back and scanning through the drinks.

You watched his tall figure from where you perched behind the counter. Elbows resting on the plastic case holding the tickets that no longer occupied your attention. His broad shoulders rose and fell with a sigh, black waves brushing the back of his neck. He was in track pants that hung low on his hips, shirt partially tucked in and giving you a chance to take in how his waist curved and held muscle and fat you could only imagine the delicious sight of.

“You guys don’t have anymore Propel?” Jason called, looking over his shoulder.

You nearly fell over being caught staring, opting to scrunch your nose at the question. “Unfortunately not sir. They don’t sell well because, personally, those drinks are grossly sweet.” You said in your best customer service voice, a grin pulling at Jason’s mouth as he turned back to the fridge.

“Uh huh. Thank you for your input.”

“I live to serve.” You chimed, loud enough for him to hear over the hum of the fridges and the quiet playlist you had put on. Jason snorted from the distance, prompting you to steal another look at him before you busied yourself with refilling the lighter display, which you had abandoned in favour of zoning out earlier.

You had always told Jason you were tired and bored on shift, opening at 5am most weekends. It had become a habit during the school year for him to stop by, usually on a run, but today with a bag slung across his body, you were sure he was heading to the gym on campus. Off season practice you supposed.

You also realized it likely meant when Jason moved off campus, it was still nearby if he was able to stop by before heading to campus. That or he went out of his way to see you, which made your heart skip another beat. You looked back over to Jason at the sound of the fridge door closing, trying to keep your eyes low as you followed his footsteps. He walked up the furthest aisle than down the one closest to the register, lingering while you shifted behind the counter.

“Anything I can help you find?” You called, sweetly.

Jason shook his head no, looking over at you that crooked smile. “Nah, I don’t think you guys carry what I’m looking for.” He opened the energy drink he picked, taking a sip while you smiled in return.

“Yeah unfortunately we don’t carry steroids.” You shrugged. Jason nearly spat out his drink as he laughed, and you were unable to contain your giggles from behind your hand. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, picking up a bag of chips before turning towards the cash. Jason placed both his items on the counter and tossed a granola bar there after pursuing the treats that sat below the register for a minute.

“That’s all.” He said, while you pointed at the drink.

“In future, we ask customers wait till purchase before opening food or drink.” You said, the playful air in your voice still there.

“Oh give my apologies to the owner.” Jason remarked, while you scanned his items.

“Will do…its been a while since you came in. And you didn’t get a patty today.” You muttered, looking at the screen. You had become used to your early morning meetings, even if exams and everything that happened between you two had kept Jason away since the term ended. It didn’t make it hurt less, but it wasn’t because of him. You knew you were the one putting up distance when he finally opened up to you.

“You remember all your regulars that well?” Jason asked tentatively.

“Only the cute ones,” You said, tapping the screen before adding, “Like that redhead you used to come in with whose dropped dead gorgeous. You ever give out his name or number?” You teased, Jason was well aware you knew Roy and his number.

“What does he normally get again?” Jason countered, and you pulled your lip between your teeth as you met his gaze. You stayed silent before raising your hands in defeat, you knew when you lost your battles.

The computer beeped at you for taking too long, and you chuckled awkwardly before pressing a few buttons. You could feel his eyes taking in your side profile as he often did. You wondered how you didn’t know Jason’s true feelings before when you caught him admiring you so often. And worse, how could you think your feelings were anything, but genuine when every time Jason did something like that, your heart raced.

He was so beautiful and could have anyone, a sentiment you felt tenfold when you learned he played for the university’s basketball team, but Jason chose you. He looked at you and made you feel like no one else did and you had been foolish to deny that for so long.

“It’s 9.55.” You said, as he handed you cash.

“You can keep the change.” Jason said, shoving his snacks into his bag.

“I definitely don’t get paid enough so thanks.”

Jason hummed, fiddling with the lid on his drink, and despite the platform the counter sat on, he was still taller than you. You were almost eye level like this, but Jason still had to glance down as he spoke his next words. “You called me cute earlier.”

“Oh I did?” You played dumb and Jason’s jaw shifted, but you knew he wasn’t angry. The ease that normally flowered between you two took over your conversation as he nodded.

“Pretty sure.”

“Well if you wanna file a harassment claim, it’ll be with the owner you owe an apology too.”

“Maybe that makes us even.” Jason said, quiet.

“Maybe…or you could pick me up after my shift if you really wanna square things. I finish earlier today.” You said, gaze flickering between the lotto tickets and Jason’s face. A boyish grin took over his expression as genuine excitement seemed to fill him.

“Fuck yeah—I mean yeah, that’d be great. What time?” He reeled himself in while you toyed with his receipt.

“Noon instead of three.” Jason nodded, that wild glint in his eyes spelt trouble in the best way. He adjusted the strap on his shoulder and while distracted, you placed your palms flat on the counter and pushed yourself to his height. You pressed a quick kiss on Jason’s cheek before settling onto the stool behind you. Jason nearly dropped his bottle as he processed what you just did.

“See you later Jason, I’ll save you a patty if all the construction guys don’t get to them first.” You promised, as he headed towards the door, running his fingers through his hair and looking back at you with indiscernibility. It was shock and awe you supposed.

“See ya baby!” Jason called as he left, dazed tone and pet name threatened to set you on fire as a group of kids barrelled in and darted straight to the freezer. You paid no mind to their yells and counted the hours till Jason picked you up for your first date.

shalalala.

title/lyrics from the hellcat spangled shalalala by arctic monkeys

more reading: college/uni hcs + jason todd

#i need a series name for this #im open to suggestions lmao #shot at the night #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #dc imagine #dc x reader #writing

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beewives · 1 month

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Jurassic World CC & Chaos Theory just became one of my favorite shows. I’d seen it pop up on my Netflix homepage a lot and never thought to tune in but, after seeing that a few of my mutuals were really into it I figured why not? And you know I’m glad I did. I can go on and on about everything I love about this show and maybe I will in a separate post but, camp fam cemented their way into my heart. Getting to watch them go from being scared kids to a strong family to now an even stronger family of adults was such an amazing journey and I cannot wait until October for Chaos theory s2!

Y’all know this is a sapphic run blog, so you already know I have to give my newest favorite sapphic ship their flowers 💐. I feel like they need their own fully dedicated detailed post (I’ll be working on that) but to put it briefly Sammy and Yaz are one of the most beautifully done love stories Ive had the honor of watching develop on screen over the course of five seasons and will continue to witness in Chaos Theory. Their love story is so earnest and organic, and to get to see that play out on screen made my heart so happy. This is the type of representation that I wish I had seen more of when I was younger, so maybe I could’ve seen myself and accepted myself way earlier. I could go on all day about that topic but, overall I just fell in love with their love and out of the many many sapphic ships I have these two are definitely right up there with my Beewives 🐝 for sure! I can’t wait to continue to see them on my screen in October.

#jurassic world chaos theory #jurassic world camp cretaceous #sammy x yasmina #my new obsession #prepare to be sick of me #i love this show

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mendeshoney · 1 year

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a taste of the devine

A/N: this is all because of this fucking picture, and then this fucking picture, and the long form version of this initial word vomit. also @pyotrkochetkov @smileysvech @m00nlightdelights this is for y’all and i hope i did it justice. title is from “the summoning” by sleep token

Summary: Andrei’s great a being a brat in the summertime.

Pairing: andrei svechnikov x f!reader

Word Count: 10,507

Warnings: five year age gap, older woman x younger man, body shots, fluff, previously established dynamics (including msub x fdom dynamics, bratty msub, switch, mdom x fsub dynamics), smut, fingering, handjob, cumplay, spitplay, penetration, finish inside, unprotected sex

Russian terms used (bearing in mind the author does not speak Russian and definitely Google’d these) can be referenced here.

Andrei felt the gravitational pull in his chest, and he sat up from his lounge chair, lowering his sunglasses to get a better look.

Immediately, he spots you across the sand, returning from inside and laying on your beach towel. He watches as you prop up on one hand, resting it behind you, the other one acting as a makeshift shade so you could see the girls as you conversed with them.

Your legs were stretched out in front of you, oiled up from the sunscreen you’d applied, and crossed at the ankles. One of your ankles spotted a gold anklet that glittered in the sun, where he knew a small and unassuming “A” charmed along the chain.

A smirk crosses his lips almost out of habit.

He pushes his sunglasses back up to cover his eyes and watches you for a moment, his skin buzzing when you smile and laugh at something that was said.

It’s not fucking fair, how hot you are.

No really, it wasn’t.

Since the day you came into his life earlier this year, he’d felt tethered to you, consistently blinded by your beauty and simultaneously blessed that you’d given him the chance to earn your heart, your love, your trust, respect, and loyalty. The fact that you’d felt a guy like him, five years younger than yourself and completely out of your league, deserved a chance to be with you?

Yeah, that was still something he felt constantly amazed by each and every day.

But right now, he wasn’t really focused on that.

Not when his cock throbbed to be inside of you.

Your chemistry was insane, the emotional connection like nothing he’d ever felt before, but your sexual chemistry was enough to start a wildfire.

From that very first night - though he tried to be a gentleman, play it off that a younger guy like him wasn’t sex crazed and could handle being mature and play the long game - the sex was good. Like, really good. Stupidly good. Exceeded expectations.

He’d craved you every day since, even when he was in the middle of satisfying that craving, he knew he’d always want more, need more, would always need you.

Andrei had tried to calm that familiar need with a quickie this morning, but you chastised him, reminded him that you were already running late to the beach getaway, so he played the role of dutiful boyfriend as you shuffled him out of the house and into his car, you in those damn denim shorts, his shirt, knowing the entire time that under all of that was that god damn fucking white bikini -

Yeah, he wasn’t exactly happy with not being able to at least do something before having to sit here with a half hard cock and stare at you all day with all these people around and nowhere decent to sneak off to so he could at least bend you over and fuck you, ease the ache.

Not to mention it took three hours and forty five minutes to fucking be here.

And that you’re stuck here.

For three days.

His nostrils flare as he stares at you, watching as you uncross and recross your ankles, shifting your legs to sit more comfortably, anklet flashing in the sun.

You’re all at Freddie’s new beach house in the Outer Banks, breaking it in with the first summer barbecue of the season. Given the fact that the goalie himself is pretty massive, the house itself is a spacious monstrosity, enough to fit the team and a smattering of their partners among the guest bedrooms on the first, second, and third floor, as well as the finished basement, and highly unnecessary pool house.

It’s a three day weekend thing, and though you and Andrei have a room to yourselves in the back first floor corner of the house, he already knows you both won’t get the use out of it that you want.

That he wants, at least.

Andrei watches you closely as you and the girls all get up, heading for the sea, and he gets up as casually as possible, tossing his hat and sunglasses onto his lounge chair, then leaning over and tapping Sebastian on his chest, nodding with his chin toward the ocean.

“Up for a swim?” He asks, and Seb nods, following Andrei as he trails after you.

When he gets to the water, he pretends like he’s walking right by you, just an innocent passerby, when he moves the back of his hand out just a little, skin brushing against the exposed cheek of your ass, across the material of your bikini bottoms, to your other cheek, till he’s walking away.

He can feel the pinpricks of your gaze on his back and refuses to look back at you as he and Seb dive under the waves, the salty brine assaulting his senses immediately, meeting his teammate and friend as they swim out further.

A few of the other guys and girls who were lingering on the sand end up joining them a moment later, the whole of attendees for the beach getaway now in the water.

Andrei makes it about seven whole minutes fucking around with the guys before he notices you’re wading about three feet away from him in the water, so he swims closer, closing the distance once he can reach out and grab your ankle, dragging you to him.

Your legs wrap around his waist on instinct, arms winding around his neck as his hands cup your ass. He presses what he pretends to be an innocent kiss to your lips, swiping his tongue at the seam just as he’s pulling away.

He sees it then, the flash in your eyes, the sign that tells him he’s starting to push his limits, and he knows. That was his entire point, but he smiles back at you innocently, like nothing’s amiss.

Of course, you don’t buy it.

“Drei,” you murmur, moving to unwind your legs from around him, but he brings a hand up and squeezes your side, trailing that hand further up to play with where your bikini is tied at the nape of your neck.

“What is it, kroshka?” He murmurs, pulling at one of the strings.

“No,” you say firmly, legs dropping from around him and putting space between you sooner than he’s able to react. You’re looking up at him now from where he looms over you at six foot two, but you both know he might as well be on his knees with the fire in your irises.

He pouts. “Just a little?”

You roll your eyes, stepping back, wading toward your friends and tossing a “Enjoy the weekend, Drei” over your shoulder as you go.

It’s only then that Andrei realizes his heart’s pounding in his chest, and the throb of his heartbeat echoes to his cock.

He’s not even looking when Seb and Pyotr approach him from behind, jumping on him and forcing him under the water.

At dinnertime, Freddie, Brent, and Andrei are helping to man the grill out on his patio, the breeze from the sea cooling the air and the house.

Some of the guys are inside fiddling with snacks and sides that have been laid out, and others are out here setting up the ridiculously large dining table Freddie insisted on buying. You’re with the girls mixing cocktails and mocktails at the bar across the patio space, flitting in and out of Freddie’s kitchen every now and again to help with dessert or running the rest of the meat out to Freddie and Andrei to grill.

He watches you closely, eyes constantly roaming over the red sundress you put on after you’d showered away the salt water. Your hair is swept up into a neat bun on your head, little stray pieces of hair framing your face. The gold jewelry on your body glints in the setting sun, his eyes roaming over your little gold earrings, necklace, your bracelets, the little rings on your fingers, and most importantly, the gold anklet above your bare feet, the white polish of your toenails bringing out the jewelry’s shade more than he thought possible.

Dammit.

Now he was hard again.

He turns his attention back to the grill for a quick distraction, flipping the steaks in front of him a final time before handing them off to Freddie for him to slice up and bring over to you, so you could add it to the waiting bowls of steak salad and plates of steak fettuccine.

Once dinner’s finally ready, everyone descends on the table, toasting once to thank Freddie and celebrate his new vacation home, then digging into the family style served meal. Conversation flows easily, laughter and idle chatter floating in the breeze.

The food is good - of course it is, you helped make a little over half of it - and people eat their fill and drink to their heart’s content, soft music playing in the background. He pointedly does not watch the way your lips purse and cheeks hollow as you suck a fettuccine noodle into your mouth, and ignores the way you moan in satisfaction when you try Freddie’s first attempt at kanelstang, a danish cinnamon twist pastry that clearly has gone well.

When the single guys on the team start to clear dishes and put leftovers in the fridge, Andrei feels himself relax a little, knowing he’s just that bit closer to getting you alone in your room and trying his damndest to convince you to let him taste you, at the very least.

You’re sitting to his right and you’ve got one hand on his thigh, another holding your wine glass as you and Gracia, Brady’s wife, ask Freddie about his plans to visit home from where he sits at the head of the table to your right.

Absentmindedly, you’re rubbing your hand in a soothing pattern from his knee to mid thigh then back again, and Andrei has to do everything in his power not to act like a caveman and haul you over his shoulder, drag you out to the car, and fuck you against the hood of it for everyone to see in a very public claiming.

Instead, he grabs his drink and takes a couple of gulps, trying to will away the need blooming in the pit of his stomach.

From his left, Pyotr starts to chat with him about the next season, and from across from him, Brady chimes in, helping him in pulling his attention away from you for a little bit.

Things manage to ease out, and Andrei feels relief when his blood starts to cool.

That is, until Jordan turns the volume up on Freddie’s stereo, wandering onto the patio double fisting handles of tequila, and shouting “Body shots!” as Jesperi trails behind him, holding a bag of cut limes in one hand and a bag with the Hurricanes pro shop logo on it in the other.

“What’s in the bag?” Freddie asks, gesturing with his chin.

Jesperi smirks, reaching into the pro shop bag and pulling out shot glasses with the team logo on it. He shakes the bag a little in emphasis. “I asked for a bunch of shot glasses before we left for the season and they just gave them to me.”

“But isn’t the point of body shots to take them off of someone’s body?” Seth questions.

Jesperi shrugs. “I thought you put the shot glass on their body?”

“No, you pour the shot in their belly button.” Turbo says.

Jesperi’s eyes bulge, then his face sours. “That’s disgusting, some of you have outies.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” you mutter, knocking back the last of your wine before placing your glass on the table.

“Go for it, hotshot,” Brent calls from the end of the table, wrapping an arm around his wife’s waist. He flashes you one of his mischievous toothless smiles. “Show ‘em how it’s done.”

You smirk, “Gladly, come watch and learn rookies,” you taunt, standing up and holding your hand out for Andrei.

He swallows, already half hard beneath his black sweats. If he lays down….

Ah well, fuck it.

Andrei places his hand in yours, and you lead him over to the low brick wall on the other side of the patio table, the one separating the upper level where you all had dinner, to the lower level where Freddie’s pool is.

He strips off his shirt, resting it on the wall to give him something to lay back on before climbing up and resting on his back, turning his hat forwards again so the brim shields his eyes, then crossing his arms behind his head. You ignore the cocky smile on his lips, turning to where Jesperi and a small group have gathered behind you. Jordan turns up the music as he saunters over, something clubby with enough bass that it rattles Andrei’s bones.

Good thing Freddie’s neighbors are far enough away.

“Give me a lime, Kotkaniemi.” You order, and Jesperi obeys almost immediately, placing one in your outstretched hand.

Andrei knows that all too well, being quick to obey you.

He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to incite a little pain to ease his growing hard on.

It doesn’t work, because now Andrei’s hoping you’ll be biting his collarbone when you lick up his chest in a few seconds.

You rub the lime in a trail from above his belly button, up his torso, then onto Andrei’s collarbone, in the exact spot he was imagining, before raising the lime wedge to his mouth. He parts his lips obediently, and there’s that flash in your eyes again, the sight of it shooting right through his veins.

He bites down on the rind, eyes tracking your every movement. One of the girls holds out a little dish of pink sugar, and you pinch a bit in your hands, sprinkling it over the streak of lime juice on Andrei’s body.

Of course he’d done this before. He’d done this with you at least a dozen times - at parties, in the privacy of your own home - and he wondered why some of his teammates seemed surprised by that fact as they looked on.

“You don’t have to drink the alcohol out of their belly button,” you explain, grabbing one of the handles from Jordan’s hand and a shot glass out of the pro shop bag, turning to Andrei once more. “Flex,” you instruct.

He does, flexing his abdominal muscles, delighting in the way your eyes flash again, eyelids blinking slowly, tracking the way your eyelashes kiss the tops of your cheeks when your face starts to get that syrupy expression he loves so much.

It’s gone in a split second, and Andrei’s heart hammers in his chest.

You place the shot glass on his belly, then work on uncapping the handle of tequila. “You can put the shot glass between their legs, on their stomach, basically anywhere on their body where the glass sits nicely, or you could always make them hold it. The important bit is to lick the lime and salt, or sugar, if you prefer, right after, and grab the lime from their lips with your mouth.”

The guys are holding onto your every word, while you look at the girls. Andrei watches as you all smirk and share knowing looks with one another, and he only wishes he could begin to comprehend the ways in which women understand seduction so much better than men.

“It makes the experience a little more exciting,” you finish your explanation by filling the shot glass on his abs, leaving a little room at the top.

When you hand the handle back to Jordan, there’s a hard beat of Andrei’s heart, hoping you don’t make him wait for this, that you don’t leave him in suspense, that you -

His prayers are answered when you bend down immediately, lips closing around the shot glass and uprighting yourself, tossing the shot back, then grabbing the glass in one hand, resting your other hand on the waistband of his sweats as you lick up the sugar and lime trail, tongue pressing firmly to collect it all before reaching the end of the trail on his collarbone.

Like he hoped you would, you close your mouth and suck, biting down and then laving the bite with a firm stroke of your tongue, the grit of the sugar scratching nicely against Andrei’s skin.

There’s whoops and cheers that sound muffled to his ears, and he watches as you smile and stick your tongue out at him playfully.

The now bright pink tinge to your tongue makes his cock rock hard in under a second.

You lean down, biting the flesh of the lime and he releases it, watching as you suck on it, then pull it free from your mouth, sticking the wedge in your shot glass.

“And that’s how it’s done,” you say with finality, taking a small curtsy when everyone laughs.

He laughs too as the guys shout their praises and impressed words at him, and he’s whipping his shirt on almost immediately, hopping off the wall. He bends his head down to smile at you, happy to find you already smiling at him, and you rise up on your toes. Andrei turns his hat backwards again as he bends down, loving the way you kiss him so sweetly.

“Thank you for assisting me with the demonstration.” You say.

“Of course, kroshka.” He all but preens. He clears his throat then, looking to the others with a raised brow. “Alright, who wants to go next?”

He doesn’t manage to fuck you that night after the round of body shots, but mostly because by the time the two of you got ready for bed and laid down, he didn’t realize how exhausted you both were from just the first day.

You’d been wide awake and on the go since leaving Raleigh that morning, and that, paired with the long drive, the rest of the day in the sun, lunch on the beach, the first night dinner, and body shots along with a little bit of dancing - once you both got under the covers, all Andrei had time to do was wrap you in his arms and then you were both out like a light.

When he woke up, your side of the bed was cold, and it wasn’t until he padded out into the living area that he found you were already showered, dressed, and in the kitchen with Gracia, Brent’s wife, and Freddie cooking breakfast for everyone. His eyes scanned the white flowy button up and shorts you wore, spotting the red bikini you were wearing underneath it. You’d worn your hair down, your jewelry on display, including his favorite - the anklet.

But one look at him from you told him there’d be no funny business today either.

Yeah, well he’d just have to see about that himself.

He bided his time. Played the innocent boyfriend as he helped you set the table for breakfast, kept a respectable hand on your thigh while you ate in the company of everyone. After breakfast, people broke off in groups, some choosing to stay and swim, some going to look at the lighthouse, some going shopping, and others to Jockey’s Ridge to check out the sand dunes.

When you all decided to meet up and go go-kart racing after lunch, Andrei only put his competitive streak aside once to let you get a place ahead of him in ranking, but the second you took off the helmet and sat out of one of the laps, he smoked everyone with a cocky smirk tossed in your direction.

You merely raised a brow at him in turn, a hint for him to turn down the attitude, but he wore it proudly, tucking his hand in the back pocket of your shorts when he escorted you back to the car, dodging a smack to the chest when he squeezed your ass particularly hard before removing his hand and helping you into your side.

When everyone got back to the house for dinner, Freddie dragged out his brand new fire pit for a bonfire on his area of the beach. You all roasted hot dogs and chicken wings for dinner, had s'mores for dessert, and you and the girls lugged out a gatorade cooler dispenser with jungle juice inside. Jordan dragged out his bluetooth speaker and there were people sitting in chairs, or laying on towels, covering themselves with blankets as the ocean breeze brought a chill to the summer night air.

You were resting with your back against Andrei’s chest as his arms wrapped around you, your arms resting atop his, his legs bracketing yours as you cuddled under the large, thick, black blanket you shared.

“You look so beautiful, zajka,” he murmurs in your ear, dropping a kiss to the sea salt coated skin of your shoulder, letting his lips linger there to press smaller kisses.

“Spasibo, malysh” you respond, turning to press a kiss of your own to his temple.

He’s instantly hard, and he knows you know, especially when you lean back into him a little more, wiggling your ass under the pretense of getting comfortable on the towels beneath you.

Andrei takes a quick glance around the fire, cataloging who’s paying attention, who’s within hearing range, if anyone’s paying attention to the two of you.

The answer’s no one - everyone’s either wrapped up in their significant other, tipsy, or too engrossed in their own conversations to pay you and Andrei any mind, and it’s dark enough out that the glow from the fire several feet in front of you doesn’t put the two of you in any kind of spotlight.

So he trails one hand down your stomach and bends one of his legs, using his knee to lift the blanket a little to hide his movements, delighting in the way you shiver against him when his fingers graze over your bikini-covered pussy.

“Drei,” you murmur, a hint of surprise and a dash of warning in your tone.

“I know,” he says, pulling the material to the side, coasting one finger through your folds, swearing a little to himself when he finds you’re practically dripping.

He gasps a little, then his eyes narrow. “You’ve needed me just as badly, haven’t you?” Andrei sees the way your throat works, swallowing a nervous lump before you nod, capturing your bottom lip between your teeth. “And were you going to tell me, zajka? Or keep pushing me away?”

“It’s not appropriate,” you respond quietly. “They’re technically your co-workers.”

Even if you have a point, it’s a weak rebuttal, you both know it. “They’re not even looking at us.”

Just to make sure of that fact, he keeps his eyes ahead of him while he drags his finger up to your clit and begins to circle the sensitive nub the way you taught him to, the way he knows you love. He scans the group every now and again to make sure you’re still not being watched.

You’re not, thankfully, and no one notices when your breathing starts to quicken a little.

Andrei does though, and he pulls you back against him a little closer so his hand can inch down just a little more, sinking one finger inside of you. Using the meat of his palm to press firmly against your clit, he applies enough pressure that when his hand moves to sink his finger inside of you, your sensitive little bud brushes against his palm, and almost immediately Andrei can feel you relax against him.

He bends his head a little, whispering to you. “Kroshka,” he praises.

“More,” you murmur in return, “Need more, Drei.”

“I know, I know,” he says, trying to soothe the heat coursing through your veins. He adds a second finger, and when you immediately clench down, he says “Breathe baby, breathe, you’re taking it so well so far.”

To anyone else, it looks like two lovers having a nice conversation.

To Andrei and you, who know better, it’s a fight to keep his fingers stroking in and out of you at a pace fast enough for you to come, and slow enough that the wet sounds of him finger fucking your pussy don’t alert anyone to your misdeeds.

He finds his rhythm, his movements precise and firm, and his ears are perked up for any tell-tale sound that falls from your lips, or within your throat, body attuned to yours to also look for any physical signs.

Like the way you start to squirm a little, how you squeeze down when he starts to scissor his fingers a little, how you pretend to adjust yourself to sit more comfortably, only so you can angle your hips just so that it pushes his fingers a little deeper, and then he’s stroking that soft, spongey part inside of you with the pads of his fingers so well, that you have to bite your lip from moaning.

“Do you want to come, zajka?” Andrei asks softly, whispering the words as he presses his lips to the shell of your ear. “Do you want me to make you come?”

You nod, and he can see the corner of your mouth tilt up in a smile, “Please,” you beg sweetly.

“Please what?” He taunts, stopping his ministrations altogether. Your hips almost buck against him in protest, and he can tell you want to whine, but you don’t. Your lips press firmly together, and he knows it’s because when the tables turn, when he’s in charge like this, you like to be a bit of a brat just as much as he does.

“Use your words, zajka.” His words are firm, and he bites the lobe of your ear playfully to make his point. “Please what?”

“Please let me come, malysh.” You finally beg. He relents a little, resuming the slow strokes of his fingers.

“Take out my cock.” Andrei instructs, moving himself so it looks like he’s leaning back propped up on one hand. “Take out my cock and stroke me.”

Your snake one of your hands behind you, between your bodies, and with deft fingers, undo the tie on his board shorts and part the material, reaching in and pulling out his hard cock. You take it in your fist, squeezing firmly as you stroke him up and down.

Andrei’s eyes scan over the group again, and still, thank fuck, no one seems to pay the two of you any mind.

You manage to gather the bead of pre-come at the head of his cock, massaging it around before twisting your wrist in a way that nearly makes him go cross eyed.

“Faster,” he demands, and you obey, picking up speed, and as a reward, he resumes his original pace, fingers plunging in and out of your wet heat, massaging that part inside of you that has you squeezing your thighs together in no time.

When your orgasm hits, your pussy squeezes down, locking his fingers in a vice grip as you gush around them, your breath coming out of your nose in soft little puffs. Your hand squeezes him tight as you ride out your orgasm, twisting up around the head of his cock and then Andrei’s coming too, biting the inside of his check to stop him from making any noise, using all of his control not to buck his hips up or jostle the two of you in anyway.

As the post-orgasm haze clears, Andrei slips his fingers out of you gently, one at a time, and you slowly release his cock, wiping the come that got on your fingers onto the towel beneath you. Though he hates to waste your orgasm by wiping it on his shorts, it’s the best he can do in terms of cleaning up for now, so he wipes his fingers, then uses the inside of his shirt to clean up his come that splattered over his belly.

You lean forward a little so he can inspect your back, and he wipes off the little bit that landed there as well before pulling his shirt back down.

Once the two of you are semi-put-together again, he circles his arms around you, letting out a small happy sigh.

“Thank you, malysh,” you say quietly, pressing back against him, curling your butt against his lap as you lace his fingers with yours.

He presses a kiss to your temple. “Anything for you, zajka.”

Sukin syn.

You and your goddamn bikinis are going to send him to an early grave, he’s sure of it.

At least this was the last day of this little getaway, and everyone leaves tomorrow and you can put this god forsaken weekend behind you, because if Andrei didn’t get you back home to your bed, and soon, he was pretty sure he was going to strangle somebody.

Andrei approaches you with one sole purpose in mind - feel your ass in his lap again, just the way you sat in his lap last night after your little tryst in front of the bonfire.

You didn’t fuck last night, and though the handjob sated him just fine, he woke up this morning to find you gone, again, when he was rock hard, and all he really wanted, all he could think about, was wanting to pull your sleep shorts to the side and lick your pussy till you flipped him on his back to ride his face until you came all over his tongue.

After scarfing down a bowl of cereal, he stalks out of the back of the house and down the beach, where you’re already in the water swimming with the girls and a smattering of the guys on the team.

He thinks he’s being slick when he approaches you in the water from behind, using the ocean as cover for his current predicament. He’s fully hard when he gets close enough to wrap his arms around you, pretending to lean on you while you’re talking to Seth and grinding his board shorts covered cock into you, trying to make you blush, make you flustered.

Your hand snakes back, squeezing his thigh and digging your nails into his skin in warning. He stops circling his hips, but keeps himself pressed against you anyway.

“You left me in bed alone again, kroshka.” He whispers into your neck.

You turn in his arms, a semi stern expression on your face. “I already said it’s not appropriate, Andrei.”

He frowns. “But don’t you want to?”

“Of course I do,” you frown, wondering how he could possibly think otherwise, but add “But not here.”

“But you liked last night?”

Your brow furrows. “You know I did.”

“Then let me-” He’s cut off by Martin jumping on his back, shouting “Svechy!” then yanking him backward and splashing them both into the surf. When he comes back up, he shakes the ocean out of his eyes and finds you several feet away, back with the girls, and - if the sharp set to your shoulders is any indication - promptly ending your conversation.

Fine.

He could play the long game for you.

He fucks around with the guys, playing football, a bit of beach volleyball, and swimming over the next couple of hours.

Eventually, you wander over to let him know you’re heading back to the house to shower, change, and help Freddie get lunch ready, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek before trekking back up the beach and toward the house.

Andrei waits a little, gives himself at least a ten minute window before he excuses himself from the surf and trails after you.

When he gets back to the house, he’s confused when he doesn’t find you in the kitchen, or in your room or attached bathroom. He heads back out of the patio, circling to the side of the house and intending to head to the car, checking to see if maybe you and Freddie already left to go grocery shopping or something, but instead, he comes upon someone using the outdoor shower.

It’s a closed in shower stall, big enough to fit two people, and the stall door is raised so he can see a pair of feet, soapy suds trailing down and being rinsed off familiar skin, and the gold anklet confirms that he’s found you.

He smirks to himself, opening the door and laughing a little when you jump, arms crossed over your bare breasts as the showerhead rains water down on you from above. “Andrei!” You hiss, eyes blazing with fire.

You’ve still got your bikini bottoms on, and as Andrei shuts the door behind him, locking you both in, he reaches for you, reaches so he can undo the ties at your waist, toss those cursed things far fucking away, and drop down to his knees so he can-

“What do you think you’re doing, shchenok?” You demand, arms still crossed over your chest like he’s never seen you bare to the waist before.

Shchenok. You called him shchenok. Puppy. He blinks, hands dropping to his sides.

“I just want to touch you,” he explains, not even trying to downplay the undertone of a wine in his voice. “I just want you.”

His admission lingers in the air for a beat, then two, and you sigh, dropping your arms from your breasts only to hold them open, and he goes to you without a second thought.

Andrei relaxes just a fraction when you hold him under the shower spray, your arms stroking up and down his back in a soothing pattern, your head tucked into his neck and his cheek resting on top of your head.

“You want me, shchenok?” You murmur.

“I need you,” he replies softly, correcting his earlier statement, wanting to make sure he’s being clear. “Need you so badly, moya koroleva.”

You nod, pulling back a little to look up at him, watching the ways he blinks slowly, looking at your eyes, then your lips, your chest, and back up again. When he finally makes eye contact with you, you bring your hands to his cheeks, pulling him down and capturing his lips with yours.

Andrei moans, body going lax and arms pulling you tighter against him. The kiss gets intense and dirty fast, especially when Andrei backs you against the wall of the stall right below the shower head, reaching down to grab your ass and you hop up, wrapping your legs around him, locking your ankles at the base of his spine and your hands behind his neck.

He grinds into you when you bite his bottom lip, licking over it after to soothe the sting. Andrei parts his lips on instinct, hiking you higher so when he tips his head back a little and opens his mouth, sticking his tongue out, you can bring one hand forward to hold his chin, watching the way the water from the shower head drips into his mouth, and you hold out your tongue, mesmerized when the water trails from your mouth into his.

You massage his tongue with your own gently, pulling back and pursing your lips, gathering water before parting your lips and letting your spit trail off of your tongue, flowing with the water back into Andrei’s mouth.

When he closes his lips, swallowing, he sees the way that your eyes flash, the way your skin heats beneath his touch and he surges forward, taking your lips again in a bruising kiss, moaning when your hands snake into his hair and grip at the strands.

He feels like he’s going insane with need, the way he kisses you like it’s the first time all over again, trying to convince you that he might be younger, but he’s definitely man enough to take care of you, to tend to you, to be worthy of you, to worship you. A sharp hiss falls from his lips and his cock throbs in his board shorts when you tug harshly, pulling his head back for him to look at you.

“You need to behave, shchenok, do you understand?” You chastise, voice soft.

He nods, whimpering when you tug at his hair again, punctuating your point with a slow grind of your hips against his abdomen. All blood rushes south, his cock painfully hard in his board shorts. “Da, moya koroleva.”

Andrei can barely breathe when he notices your eyes zero in on something on his face, and you bring a hand to his lips. You run your thumb over his bottom lip, tugging it a little before your hand sinks into his hair and you’re kissing him again. It’s downright filthy, and Andrei grips your ass tighter in his hands, rubbing your still bikini clad pussy against his abdomen, moving you up and down, and grinding into you each time he brings you back down.

After a few more minutes, you ask him between kisses “Can you be quick?”

He nods emphatically. “Da, moya koroleva, I promise I’ll be quick.”

“You’ll wait until we’re home tomorrow to have me properly?”

He hums out his agreement, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, only supplying a verbal “yes” after you yank at his hair.

“And you’ll stop trying to misbehave when we’re around the others?” You ask, making sure your limits are clear.

“Yes I swear, I’ll stop.” Andrei swears, “I’ll be your good boy.”

He can feel you smile against his lips, and then you’re pulling back, looking into his eyes. He waits patiently as he knows to, and when you finally murmur “Take your cock out and put it inside me, Andrei.”

The groan that leaves his mouth is a little loud but god could anyone blame him? With the way you say his name so sweetly like that? The way it sounds like a prayer? Like you’re asking him “give me the world, Andrei” and all he can do is say “anything for you moya koroleva” in return?

He keeps you propped up with one hand, the other yanking at the ties on his board shorts and pulling them down just a little to free his cock, and then he’s yanking the crotch of your bikini bottoms to the side, sinking into your sopping wet pussy and burying himself to the hilt in one stroke.

A soft “oh fuck” leaves your lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in close, Andrei burying his face into your neck and bringing his hand back to your ass, breathing deeply, trying to stave off his orgasm for as long as possible. He holds you both there, him sitting all the way inside you, waiting for you to adjust, to tell him he can fuck you. You pulse around him, and even though the shower is still raining water down on both of you, he feels like he’s going to break into a sweat trying to restrain himself.

“Move, Andrei, please.” You murmur into his ear, and he holds tight to you, withdrawing his hips just a little before pushing back in, and hard. “Be quick, malysh.” You remind him, and he nods into your neck, picking up his pace.

If he was younger, he might be embarrassed to say he’s been halfway to an orgasm since he let himself into this shower stall, but all he can care about right now is making sure that you get to come too. He’s deliberate with his body, making sure to keep his abs pressed against your clit so every time he grinds his hips into you he brushes against it, making sure his cock stays deep enough that he hits that glorious spot inside of you that makes you clench down around him in a grip that Andrei can’t interpret as anything other than your body saying “you’re mine.”

“I’m going to come, Andrei,” you whimper, and he nods again, biting down into your neck to stifle his moans, to suffocate the groan threatening to rip from his throat when you squeeze down and come, his vision going black.

He pumps his cock past the tight grip of you, drives his hips in once, twice, three times before he’s burying himself to the hilt again and coming, cock throbbing out his release, and your ankles lock tighter around him, pulling him impossibly closer. He can feel the press of your anklet into his skin, can feel the little “A” charm leaving its indentation as thick ropes of his come paint your insides, claiming you from the inside out.

You both let out a sated sigh, chests heaving with relief, and Andrei kisses you, singing his praises and gratitude with every press of his lips against yours, the way you can feel each other’s heartbeats at where you’re still connected.

When he finally regains his breath, he brings his head out from where it’s been tucked in your neck to say thank you, to assure you that he’s going to keep his promise and be a good boy and behave for the rest of the weekend -

But then Freddie’s deep voice cuts through the air, calling your name, and Andrei freezes, looking at you in worry.

“Yeah?” You call out, cutting your eyes at Andrei in a way that tells him “behave, shchenok,” even though you’re smiling at him like he hung the goddamn sun in the sky.

“Are you still okay to help me with lunch?” Freddie asks.

“Yes I am! Sorry, just let me dry off and change inside and I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” You call back, sounding completely put together.

“Sounds good,” Freddie calls back, and you and Andrei both wait until you hear his footsteps fade away to move again.

Andrei presses a kiss to your temple, backing you both away from the wall so he can set you down gently, waiting until you’re sure you can stand on your own before he lets go. You take off your bikini bottoms then, and Andrei grabs it from you, along with your bikini top from where it hangs on the hook behind the stall door. He hands you your towel, and you take it, shutting the water off.

“When we get home,” you start, taking your swimsuit from his hands and moving the couple of steps to the door, “if you’re good, if you behave, you can have me properly then, okay?” you ask, wrapping the towel around your waist and then opening the door to the shower stall. Andrei nods in response, and you smile at him.

Just before you close the door, you turn back to him, sly smirk on your lips. “You can have me properly, after your punishment, that is.”

Andrei definitely does not gulp, but he does fully embrace the little shiver of anticipation that zips up his spine, watching your ass sway behind the towel the whole time you walk back up to the house.

“Are you sure you’re not cold, kroshka?” Andrei asks.

You lift your sunglasses off of your head so you can gaze up at him and where he’s standing in front of you, holding one of the overly large towels that you brought for the weekend in his hands, poised in the air and ready to drape over you the second you say so.

Except, you don’t say so.

And this is the third time in the last hour that he’s asked.

“Andrei, honey,” you tell him gently, trying not to let your patience meet its wits end, lowering your sunglasses to peer up at him. “It’s eighty degrees out, I promise I’m not cold.”

He frowns for a half second, towel still hanging in the air from his fingers. “Well, there’s trade winds, and it’s only ten in the morning,” he offers lamely. “It cools things down.”

“Not enough that I need a towel as a blanket.” You insist, readjusting your sunglasses and leaning back onto your lounge chair. “I’m fine, I promise.”

He huffs, plopping down into his own lounge chair on the right of yours, narrowing his eyes at his teammates, trying to make sure they’re not looking at you.

You, in this beautiful fucking all white two piece bikini set looking like you came out of an X rated version of Baywatch. It’s a two piece, a white number that he knew you owned, but was not aware that you’d brought along with you, and a lot more risque than the other white set you wore earlier in the trip.

The bottom, he’s pretty sure it’s a thong bikini, if the way that the material seemingly vanished between your ass cheek when you took your shorts off earlier is anything to go by. The triangle top that tied at the back and at the neck was surprisingly comfortable enough to hold the girls up, and keep them sitting nicely together.

It’s the day you’re all supposed to be leaving, heading back home and closing out the weekend getaway. And he’s grateful, he really is, but given that everyone’s not leaving for another couple of hours, he’s not feeling grateful at the fact that his teammates might get a glimpse of your ass in that goddamn thong.

He knows he can’t say that, so instead, he takes a small pause before he clears his throat, almost like he’s nervous, then offers “Maybe you can wear my shirt instead?”

This time, you take off your sunglasses completely and drop them into your lap, lolling your head to the left to look at him, at where he’s sitting sideways on his chair, facing you, his shirt hanging from two extended fingers, his face frowning, again.

But this time, you manage to register just what he’s frowning at, eyes casting down your own body at-

Your bikini.

Andrei’s heart thumps in his chest.

When he can see that it clicks into place for you, you let out a small, soft laugh, before looking back at Andrei with a smirk. He knows that you’ve got him figured out now, and when your eyes meet his, his frown deepens, grip on his shirt getting tighter as he extends it out to you, shaking it once.

“Please put it on.” He all but begs, trying to sound stern, but the plea is there all the same.

“What’s wrong with my bikini?” you ask playfully, although there is genuine curiosity in the back of your mind. You both know that it’s nothing too risque, nothing that Andrei hasn’t seen before, but Andrei feels a low simmering rage at the very idea of his teammate looking at you for longer than two milliseconds.

Andrei smiles bashfully in turn, dropping his shirt into his lap and reaching out, the tips of his fingers skimming over your bare shoulder, and trailing slowly down your arm. “Nothing’s wrong with it baby, you look like a fucking goddess, moya koroleva.” His voice is soft, a little hoarse, and a small smile creeps on your face.

“Then why do you keep trying to cover me up?”

He frowns again, his fingers finally reaching your hand, and he takes it in his own, playing with the various rings on your fingers a little before bringing your hand to his lips, and kisses the back of it gently. “I just wanna keep the view all to myself.”

You can feel the heat rush to your cheeks, never quite sure how to deal with his honest compliments and take a quick glance around the beach. Andrei takes a look too, and while the guys and girls are spread out pretty evenly, he still frowns.

“You know everyone here, Drei.” You say sweetly as your eyes finish scanning the beach and return to him, who’s scowling now, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your hand, your palm, and each finger. He huffs out a breath, then slowly lowers your joined hands between you both, eyes cast down to the sand.

“Maybe,” he counters, nose scrunched up in frustration. “But all I can think about is the possibility of one of them snapping their neck doing a double take to get a good look at you, and I don’t like it.”

He knows you’ve rarely seen his aggression and rage off of the ice, but when you do, it’s typically in moments like this, involving you, his family, or his friends, rage driven by the need to protect, defend.

Or in this case, possess.

You squeeze his hand, and when he looks up at you, his heart thumps when he finds you smirking at him a little. “You don’t want anyone to look at me, shchenok?”

He shakes his head, frowning. “No, I don’t.”

“You don’t want anyone to touch me?”

His nostrils flare, the word “Zajka” coming out of his mouth in warning.

The smirk stretches wider over your lips until you flash him a devious smile, ignoring his attempt to flip this around. “You can’t touch me either though, remember? You’ve been bad, and you’ve got a punishment coming up.”

He blinks then, nodding. “I remember.”

“And you promised you’d be good.” You remind him, and he nods again, eyes watching you, waiting.

Andrei sees it, when you pull back from taking the lead, eyes softening when you squeeze his hand again. “I didn’t mean for it to make you upset, you know. I wore it for you.”

His heart lurches against his chest, beating against his rib cage like it’s trying to break out of its earthly prison. “You did?”

You nod, pulling his hand to yours and kissing the back of it, just like he did to you. “How about,” you begin, kissing it softly once more before moving to each of his fingers, starting with his pinky, “I’ll put on my shorts” his ring finger, “and you be a good boy” his middle finger, “put your shirt back on,” his index finger, “and cover up that beautiful tummy of yours?”

He’s quick to nod, entranced as he watches you kiss his thumb and his eyes blow wide, attention solely on you as you gently untangle your hand from his before taking it in both of yours, bringing it to your mouth, and sucking his index finger between your lips.

His breath hitches, eyes wandering the beach to find no one near, thank god, and goes back to watching you, completely enraptured as your tongue gently glides along the pad of his finger as you pull it from your mouth with a soft ‘pop.’ Andrei’s eyebrows pull together, focusing on the image, before you drop his hand from yours, placing your hands innocently in your lap and then look up at him.

He blinks, and you can see him trying to pull himself together enough to get moving, yanking his shirt over his head.

You laugh at him a little, lowering your sunglasses to say “You can continue to be good for these last couple hours before we go home, can’t you shchenok?”

Andrei nods. “Yes, moya koroleva.”

You smirk, raising your sunglasses back up, then grabbing your shorts from beside you, tugging them up your legs before laying back on the lounge chair. “Good, now go hang out with your friends, and try to hide your boner.”

Where he managed to find the audacity, you would never know.

Andrei’s been pushing your damn buttons all day - all weekend, at that - being a little shit around the guys just because he could, just to get a reaction out of you. You never gave him one, of course, other than telling him to cool it and drawing a line in the sand, but you could tell it didn’t matter to him.

Every time you looked his way, you could see it - his eyes glinting with mischief.

And every time he came into your orbit, you could feel it - when his fingers grazed across your bikini clad butt, trying to undo the tie on your bikini top when you’re in the water, all the lingering touches, squeezing your ass through your shorts, fingering you at the bonfire, you having to sneak in a quickie in the outdoor shower just so he’d stop trying to jump your bones.

Not to mention, he had the nerve to try to finger you within the first twenty minutes of the drive home, knowing full well he had a punishment heading his way.

The dirty sobachka.

Make no mistake - you were attracted to Andrei, and you were head over heels in love with him. You appreciated and adored how attracted to you he was, how much he needed you, and deeply valued the love that the two of you shared.

But this was the first time you’d been around his friends and teammates and their partners in such a capacity since you started dating earlier this year, and you were trying to make a good impression.

They all know you’re five years older than Andrei, their precious Drei, who means so much to them and who they make a point to look after. So maybe it was silly, but you wanted to prove you were capable of doing the same, that you loved him, and that he hadn’t made a mistake by picking someone like you.

And him trying his best to attempt to bend you over every surface and fuck you every chance he got this weekend wasn’t exactly working in your favor.

Not to mention - the main thing that’s been driving you crazy all fucking weekend - he’s been walking around with his gorgeous abs out like that every damn day, not a shirt in sight unless necessary, and your mind went to so many filthy places at once, you were surprised no one called you out for the flush in your cheeks and the squeeze of your thighs whenever your eyes lingered on his naked torso for longer than necessary.

You felt better now that the weekend was over, sure. It was clear your anxieties were for nothing, that you had nothing to worry about. The girls who seemed like your friends during the season proved to actually be your friends, and the guys all seemed to like you just fine. Freddie even thanked you profusely for all of your help this weekend - cooking, helping with laundry, and cleaning - all things you hadn’t felt forced to do and did out of kindness, but he appreciated nonetheless.

And now that you’re finally on the way back after swimming the morning away, and Andrei’s driving you both home, sitting there still shirtless, hat backwards, skin warm from the sun? Yeah.

The gears are already turning in your head on how to make this little brat of yours pay for his little stunts this weekend.

You plot and scheme during the remainder of the drive, Andrei none the wiser as he keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other on your thigh, taking a second whenever he can to either lean across the console and kiss your cheek, or take your hand, lace your fingers together and kiss the back of it before resting it back on your thigh.

By the time you get home and inside, you can’t even make it to the bedroom - you’re so fed up with his antics and ready to prove a point that before you can even blink you’re shoving him down to the couch, hands on your hips and eyebrow raised because he should know better by now, and judging by the look in his eyes, he only just now remembered that he’s in trouble.

“I’m sorry, kroshka,” he says almost immediately, but when you cock your head at him, he swallows, bowing his head a little as he corrects himself. “I mean, I’m sorry, moya koroleva.”

“Why are you sorry, shchenok?” You ask, stepping between his legs, placing a finger under his chin and tilting his head up so he can look at you.

“I was being a brat,” he admits, fully chastised. “I was a brat all weekend and I didn’t listen to you.”

You nod, dropping your hand and pulling down your shorts, taking notice of the way Andrei’s eyes linger over your bikini. His eyes track your movements, watching your deft fingers go to the ties on your bikini bottoms, undoing them before flinging the fabric off to the side.

“You were being a brat,” you agree, “and now you get to make it up to me.”

You move him so he’s lying down on the couch, and then help him out of his board shorts, tossing them in the same direction as your bikini bottoms. You dip two fingers between your folds, gathering the wetness that’s been blooming there for what feels like days, then bring them to his lips.

“Suck,” you instruct. And he does, lips circling your digits as he takes them in his mouth, sucking the tips where your wetness lies, groaning deep. His cock throbs at the taste of you on his tongue, the lingering hints of salt water and the very taste of your skin in general, and his mouth waters, instantly craving more.

You must be able to see it in his eyes, the need, the desire, the desperation. So you take pity on your precious shchenok, moving until you’re hovering right over his face. His pupils blow out wide as his skin flushes red with excitement. You raise a brow at him, knowing he’s done this enough with you that when he answers your unspoken question with a firm nod and opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue, you waste no further time in dropping down, putting your pussy right on that pretty pink tongue of his and grinding your hips.

His hands fly to your ass on impulse, circumstances of his punishment momentarily forgotten as he guides you along his face in the way he knows you love, the way he knows that you need while alternating between sucking your clit and licking between your folds. You allow his touch since he’s doing such a good job given that you’re already halfway there, and since you know he’s been craving this for a couple of days.

When your orgasm crashes through you, your thighs clench, back arching and a loud moan echoing out of your lungs. Andrei does his due diligence and holds you tight, keeps you pressed against his mouth until you’re no longer shaking from the aftershocks.

Slowly, you rise up from his mouth as his hands fall back to his sides, getting off of him and off of the couch to examine him and his handiwork. His mouth is shiny and wet, glistening with your release, and he’s staring at you, completely dazed and satisfied with himself. You dip your two fingers between your folds again, holding them out to him, and he takes them between his lips without another word.

He licks around your digits, sucking them, drawing enough spit that once your fingers are wet, you pull them from his mouth, spreading them around your pussy and wasting no further time in straddling him, positioning yourself right on his lap, trapping his cock between your bare cunt and his firm abdomen, grinding your hips along his shaft.

Andrei whines, every instinct in his body wanting to get his hands on your hips and guide you, but he knows he can’t touch you, not until you say so. So he keeps his hands to his sides, gritting his teeth and muttering out a string of “spasibo, moya koroleva,” over and over again.

His gratitude is music to your ears, and you moan, rubbing your bare pussy along his cock until he’s gripping the fabric of the couch in his fingers. You run your hands up his abdomen, scratching back down with your nails and reveling in the way he hisses “Spasibo moya koroleva,” between clenched teeth.

When red marks bloom on his belly, you drag your hands back up his chest, moving so one of your hands can put two fingers between his lips, and the other can lightly grip his throat. It’s not long before you can feel the orgasm starting to well up in your stomach.

“Do you want to come for me, shchenok?” You croon, leaning forward a little to press a kiss to his chin, nearly going cross eyes when the new angle puts the head of his cock against your clit when you grind forward. His cock is trapped beneath your belly and your pussy, and you feel it throb at your words.

Andrei nods profusely, noisily sucking on your fingers and moaning when you sit up, removing your fingers from his mouth so he can speak, the hand around his throat still soft but firm in their grip.

“Pozhaluysta moya koroleva, let me come.” He begs.

“Then earn it. Open,” you say, and Andrei’s eyes glaze over as he opens his mouth, tilting his chin up with a soft “ah” noise escaping his throat, vibrating against your palm. His hips buck involuntarily, but you allow it just this once, knowing he’ll need to come if he’s going to make it through the rest of the night unscathed.

Your nails dig into the side of his throat when you lean forward, letting spit drip off of your tongue and onto his, and you don’t even need to say anything before he’s closing his mouth and swallowing, then opening it again to show you. He looks so proud as he does it, too, eyes gleaming as he waits for your approval.

Your pussy clenches at the very sight, and your orgasm rushes toward the finish line.

“Very good my pretty shchenok,” you coo, grinding down harder against his cock, bending your head to press your lips to his in a chaste kiss. “Do you still want to come? Do you want to come with me?”

He nods vehemently, tacking on a desperate sounding, “Da, pozhaluysta.”

“Do it,” you command, winding your hips faster, spurred on by Andrei trying to subtly thrust along with you to get you both to orgasm.

It takes split seconds, and you come with a loud cry, Andrei moaning high and loud at witnessing your release. Your hips stutter, pussy dripping along his cock until the slide of your skin is too much, and then Andrei’s coming, fast and sudden, thick ropes of his come streaking across his belly.

You shuffle down his body once he’s spent, licking your come off of his cock, then licking his come off of his sea salt coated skin, pushing up to kiss him, sharing your mutual release as he moans into your mouth, hips bucking up and begging for more.

You pin his hip to the couch cushion with a firm hand, shaking your head and tsking at him as you pull away.

“That’s all you get for tonight, shchenok.” You say, climbing off of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He nods, watching your naked ass walk away from him, dazed and sated as he says “Da, moya koroleva, spasibo.”

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #carolina hurricanes #andrei svechnikov smut #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction #hockey smut

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cxhleel108 · 5 months

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LITG S8 Thots for this week: What a great day!

• Girl this compatibility test kinda made no sense like I’m just answering questions that so obviously correlate to Oakley or Shawn what is the point???😭

• And what guy would that be exactly?…

• Oakley being most compatible with me AHA! y’all are never tearing us apart idgaf😛

• She’s so me like why I’m kinda in love with her.

• Outfit time un!

• Ok um…roaring twenties!

• This is so Emel coded. Aw I kinda miss her a lil.

• That poem chile…Max you gotta go😭😭😭

• Claudia toying with Liam and Max lame asses ughh that’s my muva DOWN.

• Team Shawn and Kyle actually cuz Liam and Max fucking suck omg. Also yes Kyle romancers you’ve converted me a little bit, he’s cute.

• Pushing Liam in the pool wasn’t enough tbh like he needs to drown I’m sorry.

• “I can’t stop thinking about last night” You mean when I kicked you out and slept alone Shawn? Ok.

• Bro this same shit happened last season what the fuck did I need to put on a dress for just to go speak to niggas??? Fusebox will do anything for a bag😭

• Anyways, outfit time deux!

• Werk!

• Great! Now I have to deal with Liam for the rest of the season🙂

• Being forced to bring a boy back is actually so dumb. What is he gonna be there for other than to watch me ride Oakley’s dick constantly?

• As she should! Let’s not act like Theo wouldn’t JUMP at the chance to taste this coochie if I let him, please.

• Me just having the option to leave Shawn behind back at the Villa god I feel so bad. I still did it tho😛

• AHHHHH EXACTLY BOO EXACTLYYYYYY!!!

• PFFFFFFTTTTT BE FOR REAL BRUH🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

• BAD BITCH PARTY OF ONE! BAD BITCH PARTY OF ONE YOUR TABLE IS READY!

• I’m sorry but-

• So glad I get to let Shawn know right away that I’m a girl on a mission and he’s just gonna have to be okay with that.

• Bitch don’t make my girl already have to slide yo ass after being back for three minutes.

• The daybeds chat ughhkdkdksns just give him back to me already like y’all keep playing with me!

• Ok first off, I looooove Hazel already she’s so cutesy and fun and girlypop. Second off, I really don’t give a fuck what happened while I was gone cuz at the end of the day…Sienna is NOT badder than me…like at all.

• Outfit time trois!

• Cheetah print so I can show this ho just how fast I can reclaim my man oh exactly!

• Bea sis I love you but you can’t be mad at Liam for being an ignorant fool when you brought said ignorant fool in here like…

• Ooo wait this different scenario options for different LIs gave me Choices tease for a second…why they can’t do this more often???

• This shit had me giggling and kicking my feet god I love this man.

• Hazel and Hari are lowkey goals I love this.

• LMAOOOOOOO LAME ASS🫵🏽🤣

• Uhhhh Luna don’t be mad just cuz I got the attention of four niggas in here and you only got the attention of one. We may have made up but TRUST I got enough smoke for you and Sienna!

• Everybody just watched Oakley and I share this romantic ass, dramatic ass, chick flick ass kiss but they still gon act like there’s a chance I want somebody else I hate it here.

• Course it was Liam that started the big blow up.

• How dare y’all assume I’d rat my bestie Claudia out omg?

• Them bringing my name up in that argument between Theo and Claudia just for it to not even mean anything…like I said earlier anything for a fucking bag.

• You’re telling me Jin and Luna were actually able to end their pointless arguement in a time frame of under two minutes this time? Wow shit really is changing around here.

• AHHHHH YOU MAD🫵🏽😝

• Oh brother can we just tell Oakley that we’d never cheat on him and get to fucking already jesus why do we have to wait for that AGAIN???

#so glad bae is back #i need amy schumer gone immediately tho #liam too he literally has no purpose #litg #love island the game #litg tempting fate #litg s8 #litg season 8

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brf-rumortrackinganon · 6 months

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Hi RTA ..

Adding to my earlier ask about Meghan stealing clothes from a photoshoot.

Vanessa said that this was a recent photoshoot that meghan has done AFTER megxit. She did this is California, the photoshoot happened in santa Barbara and that it was for a news organization (as opposed to a magazine). It was NOT reitmanns. And that sources from from the organization and designer team have confirmed this to her sometime in the last month.

So, now we have 2 confirmed separate incidences, reitmanns and this recent one, where Meghan stole stuff. As in simply walked away with things that she wanted to keep after the photoshoot and never informed or asked.

Vanessa is legit. She has previously done a profile on Meghan for Tatler and The Cut. She also came on Andrew's podcast 2 years back and dropped some tea back then.

Interesting. Thanks for following up!

In that case, the options are Time Magazine (for the hairdresser photos), The Cut, and Variety. I’m leaning towards Variety because it’s the seminal Hollywood insider publication that someone like Meghan would obsess over. The Cut is too new media and doesn’t fit in with her 90s/00s dream of worldwide domination.

And note, this could explain why she hasn’t gotten any more photoshoots - everyone knows about her sticky fingers and no one wants to risk it. Fashion and media is a small world so those people are absolutely going to talk to each other about this. Even though it may take time, years even, for it to trickle out to the general public, people in the industry would learn about it pretty quickly.

It may also explain the difficulty she has in finding people to dress her for events and she has to resort to the off-the-rack bargain Hermes and Carolina Herrera. And if that’s what’s going on, it may explain her avoidance of the Hollywood awards season despite all the manifesting - the people she wants to wear won’t dress her.

And now I’m rethinking the new stylist. Did she hire Adele’s stylist because Meghan realized she burned fashion bridges and thinks having a stylist to hustle on her behalf will get her back in everyone’s good graces? Something to think and speculate about.

(This is probably a good time to say that I don’t listen to podcasts or watch YouTube so a lot of those links y’all send me are going to be posted without being listened/watched.)

#ask #brf #sussexes #theories #rumors

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fuck-customers · 2 years

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Shout out to this sweet older lady who is a visitor to an ER patient, she is quietly and politely sitting in the waiting room scrolling on her phone with giant ass, over-the-ear headphones on so she won’t bother anyone else with whatever she’s watching (it’s only me right now, but still). This is the kind of respect I need more people to have when they visit the ER 🙌🏻

Also shout out to a little earlier today, a mother had to come in to be seen and she had her two little kids with her, so her sister came to watch the kids in the waiting room. Let me tell you these kids were so sweet and well behaved. My coworker found some crayons and paper for them to color with, and they sat down and giggled and drew on their papers and didn’t bother anyone else in the waiting area. They even minded their aunt fairly well if she asked them to do something. Having to wait around in an ER lobby can be really hard on kids, it’s pretty boring and they can be stressed because they don’t know what’s going on with their family member, but these little ones did wonderfully.

Thankful I can share some positive stories from the ER today. Hope everyone is having a lovely holiday season! Share love and light and be kind y’all ❤️

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davenportia · 2 years

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i should be doing my math homework but it’s stressing me out so i’m doing this instead

part 3 of why chase davenport deserved better. buckle up

adam. oh my lord i’m sorry but adam makes my blood boil. he’s always torturing him physically. he’s much MUCH stronger than him so he throws him across the room, punches him, and there was a whole episode where adam was using chase to work out. what’s the reason? y’all are brothers so it’s fine if you torture him? no. leave him alone. god i just

i love the ‘friends on the other side’ trend on tiktok about both sides of a person, the second being the villain side. i saw a couple about chase and omg i loved them. they were the episodes showing chase just wanting to be recognized and appreciated, then him in the avalanche episode (i still have to make mine for my instagram account.) chase had every reason to have a villain arc as he is treated so badly. yes he’s been a jerk sometimes. yes he does some things that are unnecessary but people treat him way worse than he does to others.

he and will byers are characters that i physically want to hug for hours because i feel so bad for them. my mom and i were watching lab rats and she went “they’re not very nice to [chase],” and i said “yes, no one treats him nicely.”

why is it so unbelievable and impossible for chase to have a girl interested in him or have a girlfriend? sabrina liked chase and adam ruined their study date by bringing spike out because he was jealous, and mr. davenport shook her hand to make sure she was real. is it shocking for him to have a girl over? and then when s1, i think her was, said “your brothers kinda cute” and told bree she was talking about chase, bree asked “chase? what did krane do to your brain?” like it’s so disgusting to like chase, and going backwards, in the robot fight club episode, when caitlin was chasing him because she had a creepy crush on him, bree said “he finally got a girl to pay attention to him.” however, bree did redeem herself in the attack episode with the iconic “no one messes with my brother” scene. however, adam has never been supportive, mr. davenport hasn’t really been supportive, and leo just didn’t care.

god chase can’t get a break. he wanted to hang out with his sister in the death spiral smack down episode and she lied to him to she could hang out with her friends. i don’t believe in lying unless you’re protecting someone, so i think bree should have just told him she wanted to hang out with her girlfriends that day. “i didn’t want to hurt your feelings” she said, which i get, but i think it hurts chase more when you lie to him. chase literally doesn’t have any friends until season 4 basically, and even those friends turn on him (i’ll get to that in a second). his best friends are his family (basically leo and bree), poor thing. in season 3, we see him and sabrina be friends for one episode and as i stated earlier, adam ruined it. in season 4, he became friends with sebastian (im not a sebase fan btw), and quickly best friends. little did he know that seb would soon be going to war with them essentially and trying to get revenge for killing his father, even though it was the right thing to do. that broke chases heart. he just wanted a best friend and seb and him were getting along so well. he and spin COULD have been friends, but honestly i think they’re so alike that they would hate each other. and chase could’ve been friends with each other if they had more screen time together. but even in elite force, he finally made some friends, but they still make fun of him. i’ll elaborate more on this later.

that goddamn list. y’all remember the list a.j. made ranking them based on their powers/abilities and how chase was number 5? BOYYY, he should’ve been at number 1 or number 2. let’s review his abilities, shall we?: super intelligence and super senses, force field, force field ball, magnetism app, override app, internal hard drive (and a whole database), fingerprint recognition app, molecular kinesis, levitation, laser bow, and though this is a glitch, commando app. plus, dude can FIGHT. how the hell does that deserve the last spot on the list? chases abilities are SO COOL SO IM LIKE???

he finally got some friends in elite force, even a best friend in kaz. they got along so well and they really were best friends with each other. and maybe kaz’s love language is making fun of chase because he too does that, but i think it’s light hearted. however, oliver, skylar, and bree picking on him isn’t light hearted. i don’t remember the episode but bree said chase is like an old lady (god he’s not that bad), and in another, oliver said it’s amusing when chase freaks out. i admit he was overreacting to the situation he was freaking out about, but why is it amusing when someone is freaking out?

principal perry. i don’t need to elaborate.

reese. i love her and hate her. i can’t explain why i love her, i just do. but i hate her because of how she treated chase. she tricked him. she played with his heart. again, i just want to hug him and treat him like a king. y’all know the song boyfriend by dove cameron, well that’s one of the things i feel about chase, just reversed. in another reality, where i’m a girl, i could be a better girlfriend than reese, danielle, sabrina, and for the chaz shippers, a better boyfriend than kaz. i would treat chase the way he deserves to be treated. give him the recognition he deserves. defend him. fight for him. love him platonically or not, i would treat him so much better than others treat him.

did we forget how he was created? by two brother scientists, one of which wanted to make adam, bree, and him ciber soldiers (correct me if i’m wrong) and make them evil. then he was taken from douglas by donald and adopted so they could have a better life. donald did save them, i’ll give him that, but he kept them in the basement for 16 years. i will admit, i wouldn’t have had a better idea than to hide them for that long, but when they made one mistake, he wanted to send them away to finish their training and never be able to see the world again. that’s just sad. but like, think about this. they were babies and they had these chips embedded in their necks when they were BABIES. they were literal lab rats (hence the name of the show) and they were B A B I E S. y’all??? imagine having a tiny metal get shoved into your neck when you’re barely alive and you grow up with these bionics that you never asked for and you’re hidden from the world for 16 years. on top of that, when your bionics are exposed to the world, everyone thinks you’re a threat and you’re nearly separated from your family. PLUS people like krane, who specifically wanted to kill them because he wanted to be more powerful. could you imagine growing up like that?

have i mentioned spike yet? well if i haven’t in previous posts, here you go. spike isn’t chase. he’s a glitch that’s like another person inside of chase. he’s an angry person with the strength of 10 men and ready to kill someone. the first time we ever meet him, he only comes out for a little bit but leo, adam, and bree are enjoying it and taking advantage of it. chase freaks out when he comes out of commando mode as he doesn’t remember anything and doesn’t know what spike did. he comes out again in that episode and they take advantage of it again so they can win a football game. when he disengages, chase reveals how excited he was for his first day and how he barely remembers it because most of it was lived by spike. bree ignores him and asks “where is spike?” while shaking the poor boy. leo then realizes that chase is right. but does that mean that the torture to chase regarding spike stops? sadly, no. i’ll skip ‘spikes got talent’ because that was an accident and he wasn’t being taken advantage of, so let’s just go to season 3. as stated before, adam purposely brought spike out to make chase humiliate himself in front of her who liked him. adam took advantage of chases glitch and was happy that spike came out. poor chase, man. chase doesn’t like spike, he probably hates that glitch, and people not using try to bring him out, but they take advantage of it when he is out.

hopefully this is the last “why chase davenport deserved better” post but who knows with me. alright back to my math, wish me luck yall i got a test coming up 😭

#lab rats #lab rats bionic island #lab rats elite force #chase davenport #billy unger #disney xd #spike #i have too much time on my hands #i think too much #he deserves so much better #he deserves so much love #i love him #i wanna hug him #deserved better #love yall

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lampmanliveblogs · 1 year

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Alright, figuring out how to read the map and that it leads to Titan’s blood is a good thing that you should tell Luz about. What I’m not so sure about is this ”surprise” Amity has planned involving the Haunted Hayride. I have a gut feeling this is all going to end horribly.

On a completely unrelated note, where’s Hunter? Y’all wanna go check up on him?

Rare image of Luz smiling in this episode. Gotta screenshot that.

Nah, the real reason I screenshot this was because I’m pretty sure that is another Amphibia reference in the top left there. Man, I should really watch that show someday, find out what all the hype is about. Winks at camera.

…what?

After what may or may not be some foreshadowing towards what Luz’ palisman is gonna be and Luz continuing her one-man hate campaign against herself, she briefly touches the PLANT glyph she doodled in her notebook… and it burns her hand and starts to smoke.

Hmmm… back in season one, during Luz’ and Lilith’s brief scuffle in the Human Realm, Luz tried to use a glyph. The glyph didn’t really take effect, but the paper disintegrated. Earlier in this very episode, we saw Luz attempting to use a glyph, and it did nothing. So what’s going on?

I dunno. But I can make some guesses and hope I’m maybe a little right.

So the glyphs are implied to draw power from The Titan, the Boiling Isles themselves. Obviously, there’s no titan to draw power from in the Human Realm, thus rendering the glyphs powerless, little more than ink on paper. But… what if… if there’s some connection between realms (like the open portal door in season one) the glyphs can draw a little power from the titan? Just not enough to activate. Hence why the glyph Luz used in season one disintegrated instead of just doing nothing.

If that’s the case… then what is the glyph drawing power from now? I can think of four possibilities at the top of my head.

The first one is that it’s drawing power from the Demon Realm through an open portal. Rather unlikely.

The second one is that maybe Luz absorbed some magic power from her palisman egg when she was touching it right now, and that reacted with the glyph. A cool idea, but again, rather unlikely.

The third one is that it has something to do with the Titan’s Blood hidden in Gravesfield. King’s dad’s blood is a potent source of magic power after all. As for why the glyph didn’t activate before… maybe the vet clinic is just closer to the hidden blood?

The fourth possibility is that the real magic was inside Luz all along.

We cut over to Hunter, who is, to my surprise, doing a lot better than I thought he’d be doing considering how his last scene ended.

This does not make me feel any less nervous though, because I know for a fact something bad is gonna happen to Hunter this episode. It’s just a question of when.

On one hand, I understand Hunter’s desire to deal with this situation right now before Philip runs away.

On the other hand… you two have no magic (because Hunter decided to lock Flapjack in a cage for some reason) and, well… The Collector turned Philip to (charcoal tooth)paste. But being blended to rotten potato-and-leek soup by a god still wasn’t enough to put Philip down for good. What are you even planning to do? Slap him with a rake and hope he dies? If he survived The Collector mashing him to evil pesto, that rake ain’t gonna be it buddy.

This is a bad idea, is what I’m saying. At least with the other kids there to assists, they have a slightly bigger chance of… I dunno, sealing him in a jar like so much malicious jelly while they figure out what to do next.

#the owl house #liveblog #the owl house liveblog #toh s3e1 #thanks to them

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taylorkellyreporting · 2 years

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i hope no one minds if i liveblog this bitch: ncis: hawai’i s2 from ncis 19x21

since the first ep back is a crossover with ncis i just decided to watch those eps first. if this is their way of getting more ppl to watch the og…it’s working lmao

— ncis 19x21 + ncis hawaii 2x01

roman’s hilarious

“salted or unsalted?” “i…did not taste them” lmao

i don’t like this deputy director at all

parker’s ex wife is definitely lying and probably setting him up

“if i’m the sucker, consider me licked” 😭

*pretends to be shocked*

lmaooo they got the commander good in that diner

at least parker is suspicious

WHAT???

hm. i wonder if the commander is the raven

damn this storyline is insane

jane and nick would be such a hot couple why lie

oh wow it’s the prisoner

kate and lucy are so cute

“don’t worry, you’re gonna get to know the inmates, believe me” pls

oh they got played

bombside manner 😭😭

i love bam-bam she’s hilarious

“screw you, torres!” “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” skjfhghcjjs

IT WAS A SETUP

i’ll never get tired of ocean shots

this crossover was SO MUCH better than the first one omg

— ncis: hawai’i 2x02

kate wants to tell her boss about lucy so she can meet her team 🥹

he was shot in the face?? how horrific

ernie gossiping 😭

“first off, it’s a movie about family” dkfjgjfjdn

mai tai o’clock 😭😭

that’s a lot of blood

i love that kate’s venting to jesse

NOT THE CROWBAR

that chase was cool as hell

“i don’t have friends, i got ohana” lmaoo i love them

“it’s like a trilogy, right?” lmfaooo

“i’ll be right here, with ya” aww

“welcome to the fbi family” 🫶🏻🥹

THEY’RE SO CUTE

— 2x03

why is this woman so nervous…

oh shit they cut her brakes

“i’m like half your size!” 😭😭

oop not lucy coming at her with her full government name

“well now you’re just trying to turn me on 😏” LUCY CLAPPING TO GET HER TO FOCUS PLS 😭

SHE FULL ON BODY SLAMMED HER ICB

wait, what??

this audrey looks like she’s wearing a really bad wig

bam-bam doesn’t remember jesse lmao

“but mostly, we spoke the language of love” 😭

“ohhhh i see it now!” hours later lmao

oh redhead looked like she saw a ghost when she saw kate for the first time

“open yourself up to more mopping” plsss

oh shit this is intense

“my love” 🥹

“being with you has changed everything” i love them y’all i really do

— 2x04

a backup shoe 😭

hell no i would never think to cook in someone’s house when i’ve never even met them before

i do not like cassandra at all

they were all scared to death…what a terrible way to die

“their fear is his high” how evil

no fucking way it’s the ranger who was helping them earlier

PIKE??????

THAT WAS INSANE

jane lying and saying she likes cassandra pls

besides the season premiere, this was my favorite episode of the season so far

— 2x05

oh my God

lmao that kacy scene was so awkward

i can’t wait to find out who this aj person is

all of these construction men are hot…assholes but. hot.

kate really put her foot in her mouth with that financially responsible comment

not him blaming ben + the team for what’s happening as if he didn’t get into bed with them in the first place

this ep was frustrating but really good

i don’t trust aj at all. he’s probably the one who had the brothers attacked.

that was such a beautiful ending

— 2x06

i’m on daniel’s side with this one sorry

God this is making me never want to leave my house again…fentanyl scattered all over the beach are you fr

“if the devil got into the drug business, fentanyl would be his product of choice” so true

“it’s not every day i get to spend time with my little buddy” the smile on kai’s face when he thought ernie was talking about him is making me lose it

i’d like to thank the writers for gracing us with shirtless kai scenes

bam-bam and ernie beefing is hilarious

oh my God i really thought jesse was gone

kai really threw down that bag so he could hug jesse jdjgjvjdhsvc

alex getting a job at kai’s dads restaurant oh wow 😭

“your dad doesn’t know what he missed out on” i love their friendship so so much

stella knows there’s something wrong

well that was unexpected

i want more annoyed kate

jesse’s insane

lucy “my love” tara and kate “my sweet” whistler you are so adorable

the tear ☹️

i get the writers needed an excuse for yasmine being gone but lucy deciding to spend four months on a boat in the middle of the ocean is so out of character

— 2x08

kai is such a SWEETHEART

not jesse being a theater kid omg?

“the pirate queen” “no, just stop. you’re embarrassing yourself” the way kai just nods 😭

mcu mention oh this is hell

alan’s an idiot

ernie 😭😭😭

okay a movie shoot was not expected

lucy needs to come home NOW

“walk away” he is very much not going to do that

not at all important to the plot but charlie’s neck is so freaking thick lmfao

cassandra needs to pack her shit and go already

jane is such a badass i don’t care if what she did was a stupid move

they did alan so foul

oh shit kai’s dad took money from those men???

CHARLEMAGNE 😭😭

oh jane’s gonna kill alex

#ncis: hawai’i lb #ncis: hawaii #ncis hawaii #jane tennant #jesse boone #lucy tara #kai holman #kate whistler #ncis #alden parker #jessica knight #nick torres #kasie hines #jimmy palmer #ernie malik #julie tennant #kacy #kate x lucy #long post

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abyssal-ali · 7 months

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held together, our hands became a map

Pairing: Jason Todd x Stephanie Brown

Rating: M | WC: 12.1k + notes | Masterlist | Ao3 | CW: sexual harrassment, light violence, kind-of forced marriage (both want to marry the other but they don't think the other wants to), sexual content

A/N: Finally watched Bridgerton and was immediately inspired. Of course. You’re welcome. Thanks to Bold for letting me rant in her DMs and listening to me ramble about this fic<3 I wrote this in about three days and I’m really proud of myself so I hope y’all like it as much as I do :D Thanks to Boldly and HouseOfKings for betaing<3

Greetings, fair reader. I am the foremost reporter of Gotham society’s deepest and darkest secrets, the enigma that provides the ton with all the scandal they need to continue their gossipy lives. Let me tell you about two subjects of mine that I am finding most difficult to uncover a smear on their names. Miss Stephanie Brown is being sponsored by Duchess Grayson for a season in Gotham's finest society. She's looking for a man who is decent and decently wealthy (she has parents to take care of, after all; she's not choosing to trade love for money just because she's poor). The Duke of Altheban is new to town and most certainly isn't looking for a bride, but something is drawing him to one young lady against his will. Everyone has dark truths, and none more so than those who live in the glitz of high society. I will reveal their most hidden mysteries by the end of the season, or my name is not, Lady Gotham

-The title is a line from Love Maze by BTS. It’s kind of the theme song for this fic and is really catchy, if you want a new bop to listen to. English lyrics here. -There’s probably going to be some historical inaccuracies in here. Sorry not sorry. -I definitely played around with canon a lot, but canon can’t keep their story straight so at least I’m doing better than them, even if by doing so I mess up their canon :p -This is set in 1810. -It’s not a no-capes AU but it’s also not a Gotham by Gaslight AU (besides being set 80 years earlier). There’s some Bat-shenaniganery going on that’s not recorded in the fic but they haven’t revealed themselves to me yet. Just assume watered-down GbG AU, I suppose. Primitive crime-fighting stuff, some smarts being involved, and the basic tragic Bat-story & subsequent adoptions etc. -Jason died. I don’t know how. Or when. Or why. It just happened. Maybe I’ll figure it out in another work ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ -There was/is no TimSteph. They’re friends at best. -I meant for Cass and Duke to be in here (which sparked a whole breakdown trying to figure out what to call someone literally named Duke) but somehow they never popped in, besides one line where ‘Thomas’ [surname] is mentioned. The rest of the Bats aren’t really there, either, minus the minor Dick/Babs appearances. This is not a Batfam fic, this is a JaySteph fic. -I really like Babs’s character, and I dislike the ping-ponging in canon between making her disabled or not, so I kept her as her current(?) self, Oracle. No I don’t know how it happened or how she survived with the medicine of the day. This is fiction, shhh. Side note: Wheelchairs from the 1800’s looked more comfortable than I was expecting. -Don’t bother figuring out ages. Jason and Steph are in their early/mid-twenties and the rest of it is *waves hand* -I looked up Regency wedding traditions and wrote as accurately as I could. -More notes about the fic & my research at the end. (Side note: This was 12,000 words exactly in my docs, where did the extra 46 come from?! I was proud of that round wc ;-;)

Dearest Reader,

As you may know, the belle of the season is Miss Adelia Elliot, who broke onto the scene with a high compliment from the queen of Gotham herself, Selina Wayne. But let us not be so hasty to secure Miss Elliot as the season’s incomparable, for there has emerged another young lady from the ranks of the season’s debutantes.

Miss Stephanie Brown, a previously unheard-of young lady, has caught the eye of the most eligible Lord Duma. Will this debutante with unforeseen connections consider Lord Duma her match, or will she set her sights higher, with the backing of the inestimable judge of character, Duchess Grayson of Bludhaven?

Only time will tell. Let us speculate on the matches that may be made, for there appears to be blossoming a most fruitful season. However, let us not be swept away by the opening chords. There is still room for even the most nimble of societal maestros to slip.

We hope to be spared any slips by the illustrious Lord Damian Wayne at tonight’s soiree at Wayne Manor, the event that I am sure we all can acknowledge will kick off the season with refined festivity.

The youngest son of our very own darling Prince of Gotham, Bruce Wayne, Lord Wayne has been studying music at the Geneva Academy of Music for the past several months.

I look forward to seeing you all at his event, utilizing your finest feathers and weaponized words to glamour yourselves in an attempt to snag one of the elusive, prized sons of the finest founding family of this city.

Your closest friend,

Lady Gotham

Stephanie tossed the pamphlet onto the desk in annoyance.

“Is that the newest Lady Gotham newsletter?” asked Babs from the corner, where she was reorganizing her bookshelves after acquiring several more volumes.

“Yes.” She flopped onto the sofa, swinging her legs over the armrest. “Speculating on Adelia Elliot and my presentations and guessing who is going to marry who–the usual gossip,” she waved a hand in Babs’s direction. “She did end on a rather tongue-in-cheek note, though. Perhaps the lady is not as satisfied with society as I first thought.”

“Time will tell,” said Babs, unknowingly echoing the words of whom she was speaking.

Reversing the direction of her wheelchair, she steered over to the desk Steph had left the paper on. She looked over the pamphlet briefly before returning her attention to her friend.

“This reminds me, which dress are you planning on wearing to Damian’s recital tonight?”

“The green one, I was thinking.”

Babs sighed as she caught sight of Lady Gotham’s penultimate line. “Imagine you marrying one of Bruce’s sons.”

Steph snorted indelicately. “Damian is too young, even if he does have something of an eye for me, you’ve married Grayson, and Drake and I would never work out.” She shivered at the thought.

“I suppose I’d get along decently with Thomas, but he’s also rather young. I really don’t know what the writer was implying with her thinly veiled speculations. And she says we use our weaponized words!”

“Just ignore the gossips like you always do, Steph,” advised Babs. “And sit properly, please.”

“Because it’s that easy,” she rolled her eyes, moving to a more acceptable pose. “I admit I find myself quite intrigued as to this evening’s happenings. If Lady Gotham is among us, will she attempt to stir up the theatrics among the ton?”

~~~

A grunt escaped Jason as he turned, letting the punch roll off him. It still hurt, despite knowing how to take hits. His opponent danced back, bringing his fists back up into a guard position.

Jason moved back, luring his opponent over, before releasing a series of quick jabs and punches that forced his opponent to concede defeat.

“Alright, I get it, you’re stressed about your debut. What’s the matter, worried that you might not have any ladies dropping their handkerchiefs around you?”

Jason snorted, climbing out of the ring to get his towel. “You know I’m not looking for a lady yet.”

Waylon raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him. “You’re going to need a lady sooner or later.”

“Well, I choose later.” Jason yanked his cravat into a passable knot. “I’m worried that the family that’s practically Gotham’s royalty is going to dig into this mysterious new Duke of Altheban and destroy my plans before I’ve even had a chance to start.” He straightened his jacket and tapped his pockets to make sure everything was still there.

“I’ll see you later, Jones.”

“Enjoy the party, Todd–I mean Head.”

Jason waved his hand, not looking, as he headed out of the boxing centre.

~~~

In the velvet darkness of Gotham past 7 p.m, Wayne Manor presented a glittering vision as its lights reflected off the multitudinous baubles out on display for the soiree. Gilded and not-so-gilded carriages flowed from the portico to the stables in orderly succession.

Nimble fingers tripped lightheartedly over pianoforte keys as the star of the night, the newly-returned Damian Wayne, displayed his polished skills in a rousing performance.

“Ah, Head, there you are, my fine fellow!”

Jason nodded politely as an enthusiastic Roy Harper dragged him over to the group of young men congregated close to the doors of the formal parlor. “Gentlemen, this is my good friend Head, the Duke of Altheban. Head, these are my friends. This rogue is Aleksander, Lord Duma, and here is…”

Jason tipped his head shortly. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, gentlemen.”

Babs stopped her wheelchair abruptly, causing Steph to bang her knee on the back. “Ow, Babs-”

“Look, Steph, I am perfectly capable of getting myself to the parlour without your assistance. I will be fine for the entire evening, in fact! You should not worry about me and instead fill your dance card–with names that are not a part of the hosting family’s roster.”

Steph sniffed. “Fine, I will dance with one person who is not a Wayne or Wayne-adjacent. One .”

Babs sighed. “Thank you. If you see Dick before I do, could you direct him my way? Thank you.”

“Alright. Have fun, Babs.”

“I will,” Babs smirked, wheeling herself into the festivities and parking her chair in the best spot to get all the gossip.

Steph looked longingly at the refreshments table, then headed resolutely in the other direction, promptly bumping into a masculine chest. Her handkerchief fluttered to her feet, jarred loose from where it had been tucked into her glove by the impact.

“Oh, my apologies, I did not see you there, My Lord.”

He nodded stiffly, bending to collect her handkerchief. He rose and handed it to her, making sure their fingers did not brush. “It’s quite alright, it’s getting rather crowded in here. My fault, I’m sure.”

“No, no, that was my fault. I was caught in the sorrow of leaving those delicious-looking tarts behind me and did not see you for the tears in my eyes. Hence, the handkerchief,” she dabbed at her eyes dramatically.

The man’s stiff posture relaxed a little at her good-natured theatrics, his lips quirking up in what some may describe as a small smile. (Steph personally described it as the look of a hunted man relieved to find she was not his hunter–or huntress, as the case may be.) “May I escort you to those delicious-looking tarts, then? I hate to see a lady cry, especially when it can be easily remedied.”

“Thank you, that would be delightful. It’s not rude to eat a dozen of the things if a gentleman brought me one a dozen times, correct, My Lord?”

“Indeed, it would be far more rude to refuse his devoted attentions.”

“Lovely,” chirped Steph, taking his arm. “I do think it would be awful if Lady Gotham reported me rude in her next issue. I must take care to avoid all pretenses of the word.”

The man–whose name Steph still didn’t know, and also had never seen before, and did not know who could properly introduce them–poured two crystal cups of punch. “Would you care for some, my lady?”

“Thank you. The tarts are delicious but they do leave one thirsty.”

“Ah, Miss Brown.”

Steph turned to see Lord Duma approaching her, a polite but fixed smile on his face.

“Lord Duma,” she half-curtsied. “How are you this evening?”

“I am doing well, Miss Brown. I see you have met the ton’s latest import. Duke Altheban,” he nodded his head.

Steph cursed inwardly at her earlier social faux pas. To be fair, the only other dukes at this event she was already acquainted with, and she certainly didn’t expect this man to have a title that required a different address than ‘my lord’.

The man nodded back. “Lord Duma.”

“Ah, His Grace was just procuring me some punch, like a gentleman, before I fainted of thirst. We haven’t even been formally introduced.”

Hopefully the Duke would forgive her slip and have mercy on her unnoble self, now that he knew she was unaware of his status. To be fair, he had not seemed the type to be overly cognizant of his title–much like the Waynes, she supposed. A refreshing attitude, indeed.

Lord Duma took her hint.

“Oh, I must introduce you, then. Miss Brown, this is Jason Head, the Duke of Altheban; Your Grace, Miss Stephanie Brown.”

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Brown.” Duke Altheban bowed over her hand. “So, Lord Duma, are you tired of Harper’s stories so soon?”

He laughed. “Once you’ve been here a season or two, you’ll have heard all of Harper's stories. Besides, I heard that the young Wayne is finishing his performance soon and that the musicians would soon start the dancing. I had to make sure I reserved a spot on Miss Brown’s dance card.”

Steph smiled politely back at him. “Thank you, Lord Duma. Your forethought has indeed awarded you a chance to put your name on my dance card.”

“I would like to also reserve a spot, if I may, Miss Brown.”

Steph turned to the Duke, somewhat surprised. It wasn’t uncommon for lords to take interest in courting untitled young ladies, but dukes were considerably higher ranked than lords and rarely courted or married outside of their titles.

How interesting. She’d enjoy getting to know more about him as long as he let her.

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

~~~

Lord Duma was a fine dancer, and Steph enjoyed their turn around the room, but dancing with Duke Head was something else entirely. They fit together perfectly, in such synchronization that they seemed to be floating over the dancefloor.

“You are a wonderful dancer, Your Grace.”

“A dancer is only as good as their partner, I’ve been told.”

Steph smiled, mentally recording the feel of his large hands over hers, the faint smoky scent of his cologne, the soft swish of air as it flowed over her exposed skin. Dancing had always been a passion of hers, but it was difficult to find partners with whom she connected so well.

“What you were saying earlier, about a Lady Gotham,” said the Duke. “I did not know there was such a title here.”

Steph answered his unasked question. “Lady Gotham is a pseudonym for some author who has recently begun to write about society’s banalities and scandals. The ton is quite invested in both the papers she prints and the mask she wears. No one knows who it is, and so far it is one of the season’s biggest topics of conversation.”

“Ah. Thank you for explaining, Miss Brown.”

“It is quite alright with me if you address me as Miss Stephanie or Miss Steph, Your Grace.”

“As you wish, Miss Stephanie. You seem rather…how shall I put this…distant from society. Aside from Lord Duma and myself, you have not danced or talked with any acquaintances.”

Steph laughed. “I am not well acquainted with most of the ton, Your Grace. I am a miss, not a lady, and I am not in the habit of associating with double-faced, backstabbing socialites. I prefer intelligent conversation, even if I am here to find a husband, but it truly seems like the two are mutually exclusive.”

He barked a short laugh, pulling her infinitesimally closer. “It does seem that you are either doomed to marry or become a book-loving spinster, does it not? As if you cannot marry and love books, or be unmarried and detest the things.”

“Indeed. My sponsor for the season is happily married, and she has one of the largest libraries I have seen.”

She twirled, coming back to the duke’s arms.

“I suppose I am simply setting my sights too high. She had a better beginning than I, and she already was acquainted with her husband; their families have always been friendly. And that is not in the cards for me. If I must marry for my family’s sake, then I will have to set aside dreams of love and books and loving books. Such is the way of life,” she mused sadly.

Duke Altheban twirled her again. “Surely someone here also loves books, at least? They are lords and barons, they have to have studied. Speaking purely hypothetically, what about the Duke of Bristol?”

“Tim?” Steph laughed. “No, it would never work between us, for many reasons.”

“Oh, you’ve met?”

“A time or two,” she grinned. The last strains of the music faded away, and the sudden rush of chatter from the dancers surrounding them made talking difficult.

“Time for another tart, perhaps, Miss Stephanie?” asked the duke, leading her over to the quieter refreshment table.

“If you offer it to me, I’d hate to refuse, Your Grace-ooh, waffles!”

“I take it you like the pastries?”

“Very much. The chef here always makes the best cream to eat with them.” Steph groaned as the treat hit her taste buds.

The duke followed her lead of spooning the cream onto the waffle bite and eating it. “That is quite good. Oh, hello, Harper.”

“Stephanie,” nodded Roy, turning back to the duke. “You really must come with me now, Jason. You’re finally here and we can fulfill all those adventures we spoke about on our European trip!”

“Very well. Miss Stephanie.” He kissed her fingers in farewell.

Her fingers tingled from the press of his lips the rest of the night.

~~~

“That was fast,” laughed Waylon the next week after Jason ended their spar.

Jason glared at him from under the fringe of his hair. “You can shove whatever else you want to say right up your-”

“Did you see what Lady Gotham wrote about you?” interrupted his friend/investee.

“No, what?” he grumbled, curiosity piqued.

Waylon pulled out the paper and balanced his spectacles on his nose.

Clearing his throat, he read eloquently, “‘ There is nothing the ton likes more than talking about themselves, unless it is talking about others.

‘The most common question heard at the Waynes’ soiree was ‘Who is the Duke of Altheban’? He was certainly well-acquainted with several of the lords of this fair city, but no one–except myself–knows more than these three facts: firstly, the duke has spent the last several years traveling the continent and making connections for his merchant business.

‘Secondly, he originally hails from the land of Nanda Parbat, where his dukedom is located.

‘Thirdly, he is a most desirable catch, being young, rich, and single, of which only one of these attributes society truly considers necessary. He is also reportedly an excellent dancer, although sparing with his partners.

‘But, fourthly, the duke is looking for something in particular from this season and this society. Could it be a wife? A new business partner? Whatever it is, this author is sure that we all are eager to learn more’ .”

Jason dropped his head into his hands in frustration. He’d forgotten just how vicious society’s gossip was. Whichever event he next attended, he was surely going to be flocked even more than he’d been at the soiree.

And he was back to his problem. Miss Stephanie Brown. A poor young socialite who was looking for a husband, all details which should have made him flee instead of being drawn to her. Yet she had been a breath of fresh air. Even after she learned of his status, she did not change her behaviour, and had given him the most pleasant conversation with a woman who was not married or related to him he’d had in…ever. She’d openly admitted she was looking for a moneyed husband, which he could not blame her for, and clearly cared for her family, considering what she was willing to give up for them.

She clearly had more dimensions to her than most of the other young ladies had dresses, and he desperately wanted to explore more of them.

“-son!”

“Hm?”

“Wow, you have it bad.” Waylon shook his head in mock sympathy. “What’s the lady’s name?”

“Ste-what young lady?”

Waylon looked at him, unimpressed. “The one you’re thinking about and can’t stop thinking about. I’d like to meet this woman who’s managed to make you reconsider your stance on marriage this fast.”

“I’m not reconsi-” Jason paused, realisation washing over him, and swore violently.

Waylon patted him on the shoulder and laughed, the traitor.

“I’m not marrying her!” he yelled after the boxer.

He laughed louder.

~~~

Steph knew that she was being impractical, but didn’t particularly care. She’d have to live with her practicability soon enough, she was going to take this moment while she could to daydream.

The babblings of a baby roused her from her thoughts of dancing with Duke Altheban, and she peeked into Emma’s carriage.

“Hello, darling. Have you woken up from your nap, sweetie? I knew the fresh air would be good for you, and look at that! You’ve finally slept longer than an hour!” She cooed to the baby, turning the carriage to head home. “Yes, I imagine you’ll be hungry rather soon, I’ll get you back, never fear.”

The afternoon stroll in the sunlight had done both Emma and Steph good, the fresh air giving them both an appetite. Once Steph had gotten Emma fed and back in her crib, she started making the evening meal, feeling the beginning pangs of hunger in her stomach as well.

The door opened just as she’d finished setting the table and she greeted the arrival with a small smile. “Good evening. Emma’s been walked and fed and is now asleep, and supper is ready. Wash up and I’ll have it on the table.”

“Thanks, Steph.”

~~~

Jason looked around the Crowns’ ballroom for a familiar head of blonde curls but found nothing. So far his sudden appearance on the ton’s scene hadn’t caused any major questions of his identity; even the Waynes were quiet, though he knew better than to dismiss them simply because he didn’t see evidence of their activities.

Dick walked in, Babs wheeling herself beside him, nodding politely to acquaintances as they passed. And there, just behind the couple, was Stephanie Brown.

That would explain Stephanie’s familiarity with the Waynes, if Babs was her sponsor, as Jason gathered from what she had shared. He laughed inwardly at the thought of Tim’s immersive nerdiness and Stephanie’s bubbly interests meshing. No wonder she’d laughed when he’d half-jokingly suggested Tim as a solution to her marriage problem.

Jason tapped the side of his glass thoughtfully as he subconsciously tracked her circle around the room.

She needed a husband, and he was going to find her one. He didn’t want to marry, but he could find her someone. She was only somewhat younger than him, which in society’s eyes was fairly old for a debutante–though not for a man, who was always eligible and never shelved with a derogatory title, Lady Gotham had noted a day or two earlier.

She needed a man older than her, which removed several of the more juvenile options, and one who was respectful of women, which sadly removed even more.

He thought back to what else she had said. Stephanie was looking for money, someone to support her family. He supposed he should figure out just how large her family was first and how much her future husband should expect to pay up, first.

The best way to find out such information was by asking the woman in question, of course. Jason approached the woman in the lavender gown, holding out his hand in silent question. She turned, sensing him, and accepted with a wide smile.

They moved swiftly onto the floor in time with the quartet, settling into a comfortable rhythm.

“How have you been, Your Grace?”

“Well, thank you. How have you been, Miss Stephanie?”

“Oh, rather well. I visited a friend yesterday and had a lovely walk in the sun. It seems rather rare for this city, doesn’t it?”

“Indeed, it’s rather a gloomy place. Do you enjoy nature?”

She moved to another man, then back to him in turn.

“Oh, definitely. Although I must admit, I quite enjoy the comforts of home, meagre as they may be, when there is a blizzard raging outside. My fondness for it does not extend quite so far.”

Jason chuckled. “I can’t blame you for that; I rather agree with you there. Is that your mother?” he nodded towards an older lady with blonde hair curled similar to Stephanie’s.

She smiled slightly. “No, that is Lady Aurora. My mother would never be invited to such an event–I’m only here because the Duchess of Bludhaven is sponsoring me. My mother is a nurse in the Bowery.”

The Bowery. The polite name for the red light district, known for its crime and pleasure houses. A place Jason was intimately familiar with, much against his desire.

“A nurse, how noble of her. It’s hard work, I imagine.” He gently spun her into a twirl.

Stephanie seemed grateful, knowing he knew exactly where the Bowery was but hadn’t let on that he did. “Yes, it is, but she is good at it. I’m proud of her.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

Nothing like asking point-blank–in Jason’s experience, pointed questions yielded the clearest results, since there was nothing to be confused or semantical about.

“No, I’m an only child. My father is… was an entertainer, but he got injured some time ago and is now recovering at home.”

Ah, that was why she needed the marriage. He could read between the lines easily enough. Well, only having parents-in-law to support would be easy enough to sell to a prospective suitor, he supposed. It certainly beat having a dozen siblings to also support.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Miss Stephanie. My father was also injured before he died, and my mother had consumption. It was heartbreaking to see. I wish your father the best.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Your Grace. I shall pass on your wishes to my father. Thank you.” She curtsied and stepped away, clearly ending the conversation.

Jason wished to speak with her more, but he had the information he had wanted.

Surely there wouldn’t be more than one Brown family in the Bowery comprised of a nurse and entertainer.

~~~

Steph cuddled Emma in her arms, cooing at the baby’s chubby cheeks. “You’re adorable, yes you are. The sweetest baby I ever saw.”

Dancing around the room with the baby, making her giggle with high-pitched laughter, lightened the weight on her mind. Nothing else mattered when she was with Emma.

A man passing by the window had a build and hair similar to Duke Altheban, reminding her of the times they had danced together at the past several events.

“I wish he was courting me, but I know he’s not looking for a bride. And even if he was, it certainly wouldn’t be someone like me,” she told the child pulling at her dress’s neckline. “I mean, look at me,” she laughed.

“But he’s such a gentleman, Emmy. He’s considerate and funny and smart and well-read and respectful and attentive and handsome and such a good dancer–not like Lord Mayburn–and he’s traveled and he speaks seven languages, he told me. Seven, Emma!” She exclaimed to the non-responsive child. “I only know English and passable French, and a few words in Latin and Spanish. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s a duke and a successful merchant. He’s the perfect man, Emma…but not for me. But, if I can even keep him as a friend, that would be worth it.

“Do you think it would be strange if I asked him for his opinion on some of the men I’m thinking of flirting with to get them to court me? I wouldn’t want to make him think I’m hinting at him courting me–I’m sure he’s tired of women throwing themselves at him…literally, like Eugenia Sorren,” she shuddered at the memory.

“But men talk differently around women they’re courting than other men, and maybe the duke would know something that I don’t that could help me with my decision. If I’m going to marry for money and not love, I should at least make sure it’s to a decent man I can be friends with, right? Friendship is the foundation for love, or so Babs says. Yes, I should ask him, but clarify it first so that he knows I’m not suggesting anything,” she decided, nodding her head. “Good chat, Emma. Thank you for your insightful contribution.”

The baby spat up on her dress in response.

~~~

Jason pulled at the button on his glove’s wrist as he stood outside the weathered door opening onto the dirt street. He hoped Stephanie wouldn’t be too piqued with him if she discovered he’d done this.

A woman who looked much like an older Stephanie, only with brown hair and green eyes instead of Stephanie’s blonde and blue, answered the door. Her eyes trailed from his freshly-shined boots up to the crisp knot of his cravat, and slowly widened as she took him in.

“May I help you, My Lord?”

“Are you Mrs. Brown, ma’am?”

“Yes, I am.” She eyed him warily now. Rich folks looking for you was never a good sign, he was well aware.

“Is your husband in?”

“Yes.”

“Is now a good time to speak with you, then? I can return later if it’s more convenient, but I’d like to speak with you and your husband.”

“Now is as good a time as any, My Lord,” she replied, ushering him into the house and taking his hat. “May I take your coat and gloves?”

“Thank you.”

She showed him to the dated front room, where a man sat in a cushioned chair, reading the paper.

“Arthur, we have a visitor. I’ll go put on the tea while you talk to…” she looked to him for help.

“Jason Head. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Brown, Mrs Brown.”

Mrs Brown nodded at his polite introduction and headed to what he assumed was the kitchen, leaving him alone with her husband.

“So, what brings you to my humble home this afternoon, Mr Head?” asked the man gruffly, setting the paper aside.

“I understand you have a daughter?”

“Yes, Stephanie.”

“I’ve made her acquaintance recently, and her telling me about her family prodded me to pay you a visit.”

“Whatever for?” asked the man, finally gesturing for him to sit down.

Jason hemmed and hawed for a minute, trying to figure out the most tactful way to phrase it. Talia was always telling him to polish his blunt, sometimes borderline impolite, honesty.

“I wanted to meet the folks that would make a lady like that…” he trailed off, suddenly rethinking his whole endeavour. What was he doing? Meeting the parents of the woman he was trying to find a bridegroom for so he wouldn’t be forced to confront his own feelings for her?

Mrs Brown came bustling into the room a moment later, a steaming pot of tea on the tray in her hands, alongside a plate of baked goods.

He jumped up, taking the tray from her and setting it on the table before heading to the hallway to retrieve his things. “I apologize for disrupting your afternoon. I’m sorry, I’ve just started to feel unwell, I must leave. Good day Mr Brown, Mrs Brown.”

Tipping his hat at the confused couple, he practically ran to his horse, swinging onto Jericho’s saddle carelessly.

Kicking Jericho into a trot, he made his escape. From behind him, he thought he heard a confused “Your Grace?” being called after him.

He nudged Jericho even faster, heading to the fields in an attempt to outrun his feelings.

~~~

Stephanie ran up the steps to her house, surprised to see her mother in the doorway already.

“Was that the Duke of Altheban I saw riding by just now?” she demanded incredulously.

“Who?”

“Oh, nevermind. Thought I saw someone I knew. How was your day, Mama?”

“It was good,” Crystal Brown said, closing the door after her daughter. “I was just saying goodbye to this visitor who dropped by unannounced.”

“Hello, Papa. What’s this I hear about a visitor?” Steph took in the tea tray on the table, pouring three cups. “You even brought out the china,” she noted with surprise.

“He looked important, that Mr Head,” explained her mother.

Steph choked on her tea. “Your visitor said he was Jason Head?!”

“That’s right. How do you know his first name?” asked Arthur suspiciously.

“What was he here for?!”

“I couldn’t really say. He only stayed a couple minutes. Didn’t even have a cup of tea! Said he was feeling ill suddenly–I didn’t even get the chance to say I’m a nurse.”

“He said he wanted to meet the folks of a lady he’d met–you,” said Arthur. “Would you like to explain why we got this surprise visitor?”

“I’d love to explain that but I don’t have a clue, myself,” sputtered Steph. “I never even gave him your address or names.”

“Is he courting you, Steph?” asked her mother.

“No. We’re…friends, I guess. We dance at parties and talk over punch but that’s it. He’s not looking for a wife, and even if he was, he wouldn’t look at me. Foreign dukes don’t marry untitled old maids from the red light district with-”

“Steph, don’t say that about yourself, honey.” Crystal pulled her into her arms. “You’re a catch for any-did you say he’s a duke?”

Steph nodded. “Lady Gotham says he’s close with the royal family of Nanda Parbat, that’s how he became duke there.”

“A duke in my home! I never thought I’d see the day!”

~~~

Jason cut the connection to Talia’s two-way magical communication stone and sighed. She’d helped him through facing his feelings for Steph (she was much better at that than Waylon), and now he had a directive.

Back to the Browns’ it was.

She was at a friend’s house for the afternoon, but she had accepted an invitation to the Dumas’ ball that evening.

Jason thanked Crystal for her help and headed back to Jericho. The day was sunny but not too warm, so he decided to enjoy the fresh air a little longer and plot out what he would say when he saw her.

For a moment, he thought he was so invested that he was imagining seeing her, but no, there she was in all her glory, walking down the street…pushing a baby pram.

“Miss Stephanie!”

She glanced around, then up, surprise covering her face. “Your Grace?”

“May I join you?”

Her eyes flicked from the pram to Jericho to him, then she nodded slowly.

He slid out of the saddle and strolled beside her, leading Jericho along the edge of the street, such as it was.

“What are you doing here?”

“I…was just out for a ride after I visited your parents. I wished to speak with you, but you were out. This was pure coincidence.”

“It’s a lovely day for a ride,” she agreed, subdued.

“Are you alright? Not overcome with heat?” Jason bit back any more comments, recalling that women did not take the concern as such.

“I am fine, thank you.” She glanced in the pram, then back to him. “Not going to ask?”

“I didn’t think it was my business to ask.”

“This is my best friend’s baby, Emma. Sarah died in childbirth.” She turned to him. “Not a happy or comfortable story, I’m sure. Her father is working, so I often take care of her.”

“Who cares for her when you are busy?”

“One of the neighbours usually looks in on her. She’s a very easy baby,” Steph smiled, cooing at the child.

“How old is she?”

“About eight months.”

“You like children, then?” he asked, very much hoping she did.

“I do. What about you?”

“I love them, and they tend to like me, I find.”

Steph turned to a small house and opened the door. “I’ve just got to feed Emma and put her down for her nap. Would you like to wait in the parlour?”

“If it’s not an imposition. I can-”

“No, no trouble at all. Her father should be home soon and we can talk while you escort me home, if you don’t mind?”

“That sounds delightful, Miss Stephanie.” He tossed Jericho’s reins to a boy standing around. “Want a job?”

“Yes, mister,” he nodded, gap-toothed grin wide.

“If you make sure my horse here doesn’t run away in the next while, I’ll give you two more of these, what d’ya say?” He placed a shiny coin in the boy’s hand, smiling at his awed grin and ruffling his hair. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

Jason made himself comfortable on the sofa in the parlour, watching Steph move around the kitchen heating up milk for Emma with smooth, oft-practiced movements. The house was small, with one hallway connecting the foyer, kitchen/dining room, parlour, and bedroom. With all the inside doors open, Jason perused the house at his leisure, often pausing to watch Steph instead.

She fed the baby, burped her, and put her to rest in the bedroom.

The faint sound of a lullaby drifted to Jason’s ears, and he closed his eyes to focus better on her song. She had a lovely voice.

Once Emma was asleep, Steph closed the door and joined him in the parlour. “I often leave supper for Emma’s father. Would you mind joining me in the kitchen while I prepare it?”

“Certainly not. Would you like my help with anything? Fetching wood for the fire, perhaps?”

“Oh, no, that’s not necessary.”

Steph deftly spun a cast-iron skillet on her palm and Jason noted to be very careful around her, especially when she had a possible weapon in her hands.

“So, how did you find my parents, Your Grace?” she asked, slicing potatoes.

“I asked around. I have some contacts in every part of the city, I imagine, and I knew yours were in the Bowery.”

“Then, why did you find my parents?”

“I wanted to meet the people you loved enough to give up your own love for.”

Steph’s knife paused, then resumed its slicing, slower than before. “And that’s all?”

“That’s the meat of it.”

She turned to the stove, her back to him, tossing the potatoes in with a healthy chunk of lard.

Jason had just begun to worry she’d decided never to speak to him again when she turned, shaking the potatoes onto a plate before immediately turning back around to cut something up..

“I suppose it’s none of my business. Thank you for waiting for me.”

“You’re more than welcome.” He resumed his seat on the sofa, glancing out the window at the sun setting on the horizon. Someone walking up the path caught his eye.

“There’s a man approaching,” he called to Steph.

“That’ll be Dean; I’ll be ready to go in a minute.”

Jason heard the door open, the sounds of someone coming in and making themself at home quiet. The man walked straight into the kitchen.

Steph greeted him cheerfully. “Good evening, Dean. Supper is warm in the oven, and Emma’s sleeping. I’ll be out of your hair in a moment.”

“Thanks, Steph, it smells good. But what if you don’t get out of my hair?”

Jason stiffened at the tone. He didn’t like how familiar this Dean was being to Steph, but he chalked it up to mere jealousy. The sight of Dean grasping Steph’s wrist, however, was something more than jealousy.

Steph saw him stand and silently asked him to stay back. He nodded, acquiescing for the moment, but stayed standing.

“What do you mean, Dean? It wouldn’t be prope-”

“Oh, come on, Steph, who cares what’s proper? Proper is for the snobs. You and I both know that no matter how much you end up in those society papers, you’ll never be a real lady. You’re from here, Stephie, you know no one gives a damn about us. No one would care about us and our ‘property’.”

Propriety , Steph mouthed to herself. “Dean, let go of me. You’re not doing yourself any favours by disparaging my ladylike reputation.”

“Oh look at you, Miss Brown,” Dean mocked, “all snooty with your fancy words. You think you’re better than me, huh? Just ‘cause your Duchess got your back? You think you’re better than Sarah was?”

“No, I do not. Sarah was better than me and she was certainly better than you. Social status has no bearing on a true gentleman, Dean. For the final time, I will not sleep with you, nor will I marry you so you can sleep with me.” Steph pulled her knife from behind her back and held it to Dean’s chin, leaning into his personal space. “Let. Me. Go. Now.”

Shakily, the man released his grip, practically flinging her away from him. “You crazy whore!”

“And never call me that again.” Steph tossed the knife at his chair, the point embedding itself in the wood between Dean’s legs.

She brushed her loosened locks out of her face, straightened her dress, and approached Jason with a smile. “I’m ready to go.”

He grabbed her hat and cloak and escorted her as quickly as he could out of the residence.

“Are you okay, Miss Stephanie?”

The cool twilight air was refreshing, cooling his overheated blood from watching the altercation. He walked calmly beside Jericho, collected from the kid and given double the pay since the time had extended.

She nodded and gave him a small, fake smile. “I will be. His words don’t hold much weight, but even a single sheet of paper can cause you to bleed.”

“You handled yourself remarkably back there. If I may ask, how did you learn to throw a knife that accurately?”

“My father worked as an entertainer at the circus for several years,” she explained. “I became friends with many of the performers there and during the quiet times, many of them taught me their specialties. I had an affinity for the knife tricks and acrobatics, among others.”

“A woman of many talents, indeed,” he complimented with a surprised grin. “Is it safe to leave Emma there?”

“She will be fine for the short term. I’ll go get her and her things in a day or two once he’s calmed down and bring her home.”

“Would you like an escort?” He saw her look and hastily added, “In case there is more luggage than you can carry when you’ve also got the baby?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, that would be very helpful. Thank you.”

“I live to serve, my lady.”

~~~

The next week, Jason barely saw Stephanie at all, as she was occupied with caring for Emma and getting her settled into her new home. She had turned down several invitations, and Jason began to wonder if he should even bother attending the last few events of the season at all.

Then Steph showed up at the Waynes’ Summer Celebration Ball, the event that heralded the beginning of the season’s end.

She looked beautiful in her new lilac dress, the blooms entwined in her updo. Jason bet Babs had a hand in that.

She was popular tonight, and Jason didn’t get a chance to dance with her or even talk before her card filled up and she was handed around.

Doing his best not to lose his temper at something so beyond their control, he headed out the open patio doors to the garden, enjoying the quiet from the boisterous event and the beauty of nature. He still preferred it on Stephanie.

He didn’t know how long he’d been brooding in the gardens (far too long and far too much like his previous father figure for his liking) when he noticed a flash of lilac in the maze.

“Miss Stephanie?” He followed her, only catching glimpses of the silk as he headed deeper and deeper into the maze.

As he walked, the layout came back to him. He could see the path Steph had been taking, and he knew a shortcut. Granted, he’d grown both in height and width, but he’d been very careful not to lose his flexibility along with his scrawniness. If he just cut through…

His arms came out, supporting Steph as she ran into him with a muffled shriek.

“I apologise for scaring you, Miss Stephanie. Are you quite alright?”

“No,” she panted. “Dean…after me…”

“What?” His head jerked up, looking around for the odious man.

“He was following me, I tried to lose him, thought you were him,” she breathed, not moving away from his hold.

“I’ll have Wayne’s men spread out and look for the man, okay?” he said, brushing a loose curl behind her ear.

She nodded, smiling up at him gratefully, before suddenly realising their position and jumping away. “Oh, my.”

“My apologies, Miss Stephanie. I’ll escort you back to the ballroom and then find Wayne.”

He tucked her arm into his and headed down the quickest way out of the maze.

“You seem to know this maze quite well, Your Grace.”

He shrugged. “I’m good with directions.”

~~~

Jason did not call Wayne’s men. Jason headed out to the grounds alone..

Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply, letting the velvety scent of Alfred’s roses, the mingled perfumes of the party, and the rich scent of damp earth fill his nose.

The hoot of an owl sounded deep in the woods behind the Manor, blending with the chittering of bats flying about eating bugs and the muted strains of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony from the ballroom.

Light tremors under his feet told him that someone was approaching him. He inwardly snickered. Trying to be stealthy, the fool. He was trained by the League of Assassins, who lived–nay, thrived–in the shadows.

He turned, unable to see his companion’s face as they were backlit by the Manor. “Is that you, Harper?” he drawled, striking a match and lighting a cigar.

He didn’t care for the things after…well, after , but sometimes a man needed a cigar to light to see his companion’s face.

“You’re not Harper,” he said brilliantly, lifting the cigar to his lips.

“You bet your lily-white ass I ain’t,” snarled Dean Smith, the glow of Jason’s cigar reflecting on the silver blade of his knife.

“No, you’re Dean Smith, widower of Sarah Smith and father to Emma Smith, employee at the My Alibi saloon, where you apparently take supporting your job a little too seriously. You’re also someone who insulted the woman I intend to marry, and I don’t take that lightly. She’s too good for you to even look at her, nevermind propose you touch her.”

“Oh, what are you going to do, my lord?” Dean bowed mockingly. “I saw you at my house with her. So she’s too good for me, but not too good to take your lordly c-”

Jason punched his lights out in one blow. Apparently Waylon might have some truth to his words of having a thicker skull than average.

He put out his cigar and pocketed the knife Dean had dropped. Sauntering up the hill to the ballroom, he caught one of Bruce’s footmen’s attention.

“There’s an uninvited guest having a little snooze out in the garden. Bring him to the Commisioner, please, and tell him to hold him overnight for disturbing the peace. Thanks.”

Humming the final bars to the Symphony along with the musicians, he opened the patio doors and entered the ballroom.

The chatter died instantly as everyone turned to look at him. He looked back in confusion. He was sure no one had seen him punch Dean, and anyways, he was a duke and Dean a commoner. No one here would care, he sneered inwardly.

Steph’s watery blue eyes met his from her place in Babs’s arms and she shook her head minutely. He frowned a little, confused. He knew she hadn’t seen him punch Dean out, and he was fairly sure she’d praise him for it, anyways.

He missed the punch thrown his way by a blur of black and blue.

~~~

Steph rubbed her thumb nervously over Jason’s, his hand between hers. His eyelids fluttered and his gorgeous teal eyes stared into hers. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She smiled back. “You’re awake.”

“What happened?” He sat up, running his free hand along his facial features. “ Ow .”

She winced in sympathy. “Sorry about that.”

“You did this?” He turned to her in disbelief. “Did I do something?”

“Did you do something?” came an echoing growl of disbelief from the doorway.

Steph winced again. “Dick, stop .”

“No, I will not.”

“ Dick . Let me explain. In peace ,” she gritted out. “It’s the least you could do after punching His Grace out and making a big deal out of nothing !”

Dick huffed and opened his mouth to retort, but subsided at her fierce glare.

She turned back to Jason.

“I am so sorry for him. What happened was that Lady Adelia Elliot was getting proposed to by Lord Duma in the garden and saw me, alone with you, in the garden, and then loudly announced that the garden was the most lovely, romantic spot to get engaged in, and she hoped we had found it to be like that as well, which, of course, meant that society is convinced that I am compromised and a whore and we should get married to get back in their good graces. But not too fast, because that would mean I’m with child. Which is ridiculous, I mean, in the garden ? All wet and pokey? No, thank you.”

Jason huffed a laugh. “Thank you for that explanation. So I assume that blur that was the last thing I saw was Duke Bludhaven over there protecting your honour?”

“More or less,” she admitted. “I am so sorry for this mess.”

“Nonsense, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have followed you knowing what society would think of it. I’m sorry for putting you in this situation. As a man, my reputation is much less delicate than yours, and I sincerely apologize.”

Dick snorted from his doorway, the heavily implied ‘you should be’ hanging in the air.

“Steph, can you give me a minute with His Grace?”

She sighed but nodded, removing her hand from Jason's. “You get one free punch,” she stage-whispered as she left, leaving him with a smile on his face.

It was the least she could do after being part of the cause of this fiasco.

~~~

“What happened out in the garden?” Dick demanded immediately, taking Steph’s chair as soon as she was gone.

Jason straightened his position on his chair in response. How do you like being the little brother now, huh?

“I was outside, enjoying the fresh air in the gardens, when I noticed Miss Brown entering the maze. I followed her, as I had been intending to speak with her this evening. When I found her, she told me a man she knows had been following her. I escorted her back to the courtyard. I stayed out longer for a cigar and saw a commoner with a knife. He threatened me and insulted her, so I punched him and had one of Wayne’s men take him to your father-in-law.”

Dick stared at him, measuring his words.

“Are you interested in courting Stephanie?”

“I was attempting to get her attention tonight to talk to her about that. I would like nothing more than to court Stephanie Brown with the intention of marriage.”

Dick nodded once. “Good. Your timeline is moved up; you will marry her once the banns are read.”

“If she says no?” Jason asked curiously.

Dick sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “She won’t.”

Jason raised his eyebrow but dropped the subject. Nodding curtly to Dick, he exited the small study he’d been sat in while he was unconscious.

Alone, he ran his hand over his nose and jaw once more. Thank goodness for Lazarus-enhanced healing; he could feel the bruises already beginning to fade. With a sigh he dropped his head to inspect his boots.

How was he going to break the news to his lovely bride-to-be?

~~~

Dearest gentle Reader,

Nothing is more sought-after by society than a scandal, which is the lemon to our tea, the butter to our bread, and the very reason I picked up my quill.

I have picked it up once more to inform you all of the latest scandal, which has set the whole ton abuzz.

The Waynes’ annual Summer Celebration Ball last night was a veritable goldmine of news. Lady Adelia Elliot is engaged to be married to Lord Aleksander Duma, a fine match indeed.

But the true scandal comes from the revelation Lady Adelia shared with the ton as she announced her engagement, namely, that Miss Stephanie Brown and the Duke of Altheban were seen in the garden together, unchaperoned.

Rumours have been shared with many that the protegee of the Duchess of Bludhaven has borne a child out of wedlock, with sources saying they have seen her with an infant many times.

Thus, it is to my surprise that I share with you the news of the Duke’s engagement to Miss Brown. Perhaps he has not been so recently appeared in our midst as he would have us believe?

Steph threw the paper across the room. A hand caught it in its fluttering descent. She turned in surprise. “Your Grace?”

“Good afternoon, Miss Brown,” he bowed over her hand politely, then turned back to peruse the paper.

“Please, don’t-”

“I already know what they are saying, Miss Stephanie. It appears even being a man and a duke does only so much for my reputation.”

She winced.

“I wonder if I accidentally slighted this Lady Gotham somehow? She certainly does not pull her punches,” he shook his head.

“I am sorry that you are put in this mess because of me–and because of Dick. I can try and reason with him, to let you out of whatever ridiculous plan he’s cooked up to attempt to salvage my–our–reputations. It’s been sensationalized for the papers, of course–they’re even saying we’re engaged, for goodness’ sake!”

Jason coughed. “Yes, about that…I came here to ask you to come somewhere with me.”

She paused, then shrugged and drew closer to him. “Where?”

“Do you know how to ride?”

“Yes.”

“Lovely! There’s a beautiful spot I’ve found that I’d like to show you.”

“It’s not like our reputations can get worse,” she decided. “Lead the way, Your Grace.”

The ride was peaceful, with only Jason and the sounds of nature to torment her. The green grass, the texture of the trees, the birds wheeling through the air, the smell of fresh sea breeze all painted a lovely picture.

Jason nudged her horse to the left, towards a short copse of trees. They arrived at a large flat stone, spread with a blanket and cushions, a basket sitting in the midst.

Jason slid off Jericho and offered her his hand to dismount her horse, Spoiler.

“I thought you might like a picnic.”

“This is lovely.” She took in the preparations and the view, realising that this was the type of thing a man did for the lady he was courting.

“Your Grace…are you courting me?” she asked slowly, unsure which answer she wanted to hear.

He looked up from the wine he was pouring into two glasses, the white streak in his hair failing into his eyes. He looked so casual and comfortable there, and her heart did a funny beat.

“What if I am? Would you accept it?”

She settled onto one of the fluffy cushions, picking at a bunch of grapes. “If this is about the scandal…”

“It is not.”

She decided to take his word for it and popped the grape in her mouth. The lunch went smoothly, the two of them easily settling into their usual conversation comfortably.

Then Jason pulled out something from the basket. She was sure they’d exhausted its contents and opened her mouth to politely refuse.

Then he revealed his hand and looked up at her earnestly. “Stephanie Brown, will you do me the honour of marrying me and becoming my wife?”

Her mouth snapped shut, unsure what to say. His steady smile made her want to melt and agree to anything, but she didn’t want to jump into what would be the rest of her life.

“Are you sure? This isn’t something Dick is making you do? I assure you, I will not be hurt if you retract your proposal.”

“My proposal has nothing to do with Duke Grayson and what is currently in the papers,” he assured her.

“Then, yes, I would be honoured to marry you, Your Grace.”

He slid the gold ring onto her finger, the light catching and playing on the amethyst set in it. “Now that we are engaged, you must stop calling me ‘Your Grace’ and instead call me Jason.”

“I will, but only if you drop the ‘Miss’,” she replied.

“Deal, Stephanie.”

“Deal, Jason.”

They shook on their first decision as a couple.

~~~

The next couple weeks, Steph barely saw her new fiance, occupied as she was with wedding planning and looking after Emma. That was another thing she needed to talk to him about.

Babs hadn’t been married that long ago, and she still knew all the best places to get the best deals for all the preparations, which was a huge help to Steph, who did not frequent the places that duchesses did.

Oh, she was going to be a duchess. She couldn’t stop the nauseated anxiety she felt, wondering if she had completely ruined her life beyond repair.

She really needed to talk to Jason.

“Steph, the duke is in Dick’s study, asking for you.” Babs told her, breaking her attention from the fabric swatches for her wedding breakfast’s napkins.

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Babs. Everything on the right here I’ve already dismissed.”

“I’ll have it removed, then, and replaced with some tea. Or would you like me to send it to the study so you can have it with His Grace?”

“I’ll ask him if he’s got enough time for tea,” Steph replied. “Just have it brought here and I’ll come get it if he does.”

Babs nodded in response and Steph headed out of the drawing room to the study down the hall.

She paused outside the door, hearing her name.

“-marry you. You were quicker than I expected, Head,” Dick sounded almost pleased.

“It’s not what I wanted, but I’m an opportunist; I couldn’t let the situation go to waste,” Jason replied.

“I’m pleased you did the right thing. Steph deserves what you can offer her.”

There was some sound from Jason but Steph didn’t listen, opening the door with a firm click.

~~~

“Babs said Jason was here,” Steph said neutrally, but Jason couldn’t tell if she’d overheard what he and Dick had been talking about or not. “Is there something we needed to discuss, Your Grace?” she raised an eyebrow at him.

“Not right now,” he replied slowly.

“Then it’s good to see you. I hope everything is going smoothly on your end, and I’ll see you in the church on Tuesday.”

He bowed his head as she left, turning back to Dick with a bewildered expression.

“Babs was very short with me when we got married, too. They’re busy planning the wedding breakfast, after all.”

He nodded, but thought it was a little more than that. He needed to speak with her privately, but they hadn’t had a moment alone, never mind a moment, since they were engaged.

~~~

Steph opened her window, frowning. Jason stood below, waving at her with a smile, dropping a handful of pebbles behind his back into the garden.

“It is nearly midnight, what do you want?” she called in a loud whisper, too tired and put out to care about niceties.

“I’m sorry it’s so late, but will you come down for a minute so we can talk, please?”

She huffed and closed the window. They were getting married in ten hours, what couldn’t wait until then to say? Unless…they weren’t getting married?

She threw her robe on, yanked the tie shut, and speedily tiptoed down the steps, avoiding the creaky ones, to the side door, where Jason was waiting.

“Thank you,” he said when he saw her. “I needed to ask you what you heard when I was talking to Grayson in the study.”

“Why?” she looked at him sternly. “Is there something I need to know?”

“No. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t misunderstand a fragment of conversation you didn’t have context to.”

“Tell me, then, what were you talking about before I came in?”

“Grayson was thanking me for proposing to you so quickly, and I was refusing his thanks because I did not do it for him.”

That sounded rather rehearsed . “Well, then, sounds like everything’s clear,” she crossed her arms. “Anything else to say, Your Grace?”

“We’re alone, can’t you call me Jason?”

“I am capable of that, yes.”

“You seem angry at me, but I don’t know why. If I did or said something, could you at least tell me so I can apologise or attempt to fix it?”

She huffed at his rational words. “I’m being unfair. Just let me hold this grudge for ten more hours, okay?”

He gave her a perplexed look but agreed.

“Oh, I also wanted to speak to you…would you mind terribly if I brought Emma with me?”

“Of course not. I assumed you were part of the same parcel, I have a room already prepared for her.”

“You do?” she asked in disbelief.

“I’d show it to you, but I’m afraid that would be even more scandalous than what we’re doing right now,” he grinned.

She punched his arm.

“Ow!”

“I’m sorry, did it actually hurt?” she gasped, running her hand gently over the spot she’d hit.

“No, it’s just a little sensitive from my boxing earlier.”

“You box?” She tilted her head. “I could see that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t mean anything by it, I just- your figure-”

There was no way to save herself, and she gave up with a blush as he grinned at her, pleased.

~~~

Babs was Steph’s witness, and Roy stood with Jason, the rest of their handful of family and friends filling the two front rows of pews in the church. The ceremony was short and simple, and the congregation headed to the fancier wedding breakfast held in the Graysons’ manor, in lieu of the bride’s house.

The couple were bounced from person to person, receiving well-wishes and advice, most of which they ignored.

Finally Babs gave Steph the signal to leave, and she breathed a sigh of relief at the escape.

Jason handed her into his carriage, then sprang in after her, still holding her hand.

They waved the remaining well-wishers off and headed to Jason’s home.

His home turned out to be a small (compared to ones like the Waynes’ or Kanes’) manor on the edge of the city, about halfway between the Waynes’ and Graysons’ and the Browns’. He had bought it before he even met her, but Steph still found it a happy convenience. Maybe it was a sign they were meant to be together.

“I apologize, there are very few servants around, since it was just me here and I don’t need much help,” explained Jason. “Feel free to hire whomever you think we need.”

“I grew up being the servant, Jason,” she reminded him. “I think I’ll manage with who you have now. Babs did recommend I get a maid now that…now that I’m a duchess; it’ll make things easier.”

Jason made an agreeing noise. “I had your things delivered already, so they should be in your rooms already.”

She glanced at him but he didn’t appear to notice, continuing the tour.

“I don’t use this wing much, but it’s in good shape if you want to have it turned into a music room or something.”

The tour continued, Jason pointing out his most-used rooms so she could find him easily. She enjoyed this peek into his life, measuring all the things he’d furnished his home with. It wasn’t nearly as fancy and pretentious as some of the other nobles’ houses, but seemed more lived-in and arranged for comfort and ease. If this was the bachelor touch she’d heard about, she couldn’t fathom why society hated it so.

Various items from his travels were scattered about, interspersed with weapons from different cultures and paintings and artwork from a range of eras. “You have lovely taste,” she complimented.

“Thank you. My mother would be proud to hear that–she taught me most of what I know.”

“Is your mother still alive?”

“Oh, yes, she’s quite well back in Nanda Parbat. I was meaning to ask you, what do you think about travelling to Altheban soon?”

Steph blinked. “I think that sounds lovely. How soon is ‘soon’?”

Jason hesitated. “Within three weeks?”

“That’s doable, then,” she agreed. “I won’t bother unpacking much of Emma’s or my things, then.”

“Where is Emma?” asked Jason.

“My mother said she’d keep her for the week until we got settled in, so she wouldn’t be in the midst of all the mess.”

“Oh. Thoughtful of her.”

~~~

Steph paced in her room, the continual breeze of her stride making the candles flicker every time she passed. She should’ve taken Babs up on her offer of a temporary maid until she found one herself. Now she was stuck in her dress, trying to figure out a way to get out without asking her brand-new husband for help.

Stupid fancy dresses.

Expelling her pride with a long sigh, she headed to the door separating her from Jason. It opened to reveal him shirtless, his back to her as he appeared to be fiddling with his pants.

She stepped back into her room, an apology on her lips, when he turned. “Did you need something?”

Her hand dropped from her face. “What happened?” she gasped, taking in the marks covering his body. She’d helped her mother often enough to know those were scars, and they weren’t easy to get.

“It’s nothing,” he shrugged, reaching for his discarded shirt.

“It’s not nothing,” she insisted. “Who hurt you?”

He took her hands in his, lowering them from tracing over the marks and facing her with a reassuring smile. “I’m okay, Steph. I’ve been in some…situations…of my own volition, and this was the price I paid. They’ve been healed and treated by a professional. I appreciate your worry, but I’m fine. I’m sorry, I should have warned you.”

“No, it’s my fault, I should have knocked. I apologise.”

“What did you want?”

She tore her gaze away from his well-defined chest muscles to meet his concerned teal gaze.

“I…my dress is too difficult to get in and out of,” she muttered. “Could you…?”

She turned her back to him, brushing her hair over one shoulder.

He took a breath and stepped closer. His fingers brushed against her neck as he brushed some stray strands out of the way.

She could feel his body heat behind her, warming her through and igniting a fire in her belly. Each accidental touch as he undid the buttons, each gust of air over her shoulder, every cell he touched as he undid the laces only stoked it higher.

The dress and corset loosened as the bands of anticipation tightened around her chest.

Her dress pooled around her ankles as it finally slipped free.

Jason released a long breath behind her. She barely felt the graze of his lips on her bare shoulder before they were gone.

His warmth moved away. He cleared his throat. “All done.”

She turned to face him, holding her breath. “Will you kiss me?”

He nodded once, shuffling forward so their toes touched and wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her to him. The other trailed up her arm lightly, raising the small hairs and making her shiver in anticipation.

Her eyes slid closed as his face drew nearer, and then his lips met hers. Softly at first, tentatively, feeling her out. She pushed back, determined not to let this be the only kiss they shared. The fire in her spread through her veins, making her wrap her arms around his neck and pull him into her.

The arm around her waist tightened, and he deepened the kiss, his fingers curling around her neck and kissing her back with just as much passion.

They finally separated, gasping for air, eyes dark and mouths panting.

“Do you really wanna do this?”

She nodded vigorously. “Do you?”

He snorted a half-laugh. “Look at you, of course I do.”

Then he pulled her closer and proceeded to kiss any further remarks out of her head.

Steph ended up naked as the day she was born on the bed, underclothes spread over the room, watching in fascination at just how fast a man could undress when he was truly motivated.

He looked up and returned her grin with a hungry one of his own. “Ready?”

“For whaaa-Jason!” she exclaimed as he grabbed her ankles and pulled her down the bed.

He grinned up at her surprise, head bracketed by her knees. “Hold on to the duvet.”

“For whaaa-Jason!”

He knelt between her thighs, licking at her core like a man starved. She grasped a handful of bedsheets, throwing her head back in pleasure as his nose bumped against her clit with every movement of his head, his steady ministrations quickly building her pleasure up to unbearable heights. She fell with a loud gasp of his name, hand flying to his head to grip his hair instead of the sheets.

He pulled away, licking his lips in a manner far too indecent, and gave her a pleased look. She scooted up the bed to lie against the pillows, and he joined her on the other side.

“Come straddle me,” he said, pulling her hand toward him to kiss her fingers.

Affection shone from his eyes, and she felt herself melting even further.

Settling over his hips, she leaned forward to kiss him softly, her fingers tracing the raised skin on his chest and arms. “Is it very dangerous in Nanda Parbat?”

“It’s probably the safest place you’ll be in the world,” he told her between kisses. “I think you’ll like it. You’ll fit right in, with your knife throwing.”

Steph thought that raised a few more questions, but then Jason was nibbling on her neck and she decided they could wait for later. The fire inside her had been temporarily held under control when he gave her that orgasm, but it was steadily burning hotter again.

She shivered as Jason’s warm hand brushed lightly over her belly, the sensitive skin there not used to touch. He moved to her legs, running his fingertips teasingly up her calves to her knees, then her thighs.

His head dipped even lower as his mouth found her breasts, heightening the flames within her. He still seemed so composed, even with her kissing up his neck and teasing his nipples.

She wanted to make him burn just as much as her.

His fingers trailed up to the apex of her thighs, finding her still thoroughly wet. One slid in, making her gasp in pleasure. Yes, that was what she needed. She felt so empty.

“More,” she told him breathily, nipping his earlobe. He added a second, finding her sweet spot and rubbing in just the right way. She shifted so the angle was better, feeling her orgasm coiling in her lower belly.

Her hand trailed down his chest, uncaring, until she reached his rather erect cock. His fingers paused as he let out a pained sound.

She wrapped her fingers around him slowly, stroking him at the same pace he was using on her. He added a third finger, stretching her nicely.

Abruptly he pulled his fingers out of her, leaning back to see her. “Please stop, or I’m not gonna last,” he asked, his other hand stilling her wrist. “Can I-”

“Please,” she begged, missing his fingers already. She could only imagine what his cock would feel like inside her.

Settling herself over it, she slowly slid down, relishing the look on Jason’s face. There, now he was showing how unravelled he was feeling. She took him until their pelvises met, swaying her hips teasingly.

Jason groaned. “Steph, please, don’t tease.”

Feeling too wound up and close to orgasm to be bratty, she began setting a steady pace. His fingers gripped her hips as an anchor as he began to thrust up to meet her. Her temporarily delayed orgasm came building up with a vengeance.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she came with a cry of his name; he followed after her.

They lay in each other’s arms, content to be skin-to-skin as they caught their breath.

Steph hummed contentedly as Jason ran his fingers up and down her spine.

“Was that good for you?”

“Of course it was–I orgasmed twice. What about you?”

“Better than good,” he kissed her quickly, then lay silent for a while. Finally he took a deep breath. “I know you married me because of the situation, but…do you think you could love me one day?”

Steph blinked rapidly at him, surprised at the sudden deep talk and the implications of the question.

“I didn’t marry you because of the situation,” she finally said. “Although that was certainly a part of it. I am already halfway in love with you, Jason. I know I’ll love you.”

“Really?”

She nodded definitively. “Really. Could you love me ?”

Jason kissed her softly, full of feeling. “I do love you. It’s hard not to, believe me, I tried.”

She narrowed her eyes at him but decided to drop it, snuggling further into his chest. “Would you have married me if we hadn’t been forced to?”

“When I was looking for you in the garden that night, it was to ask you if we could talk. I wanted to propose to you before…that, although it didn’t happen in the way I’d hoped,” he sighed.

“It’s not what I wanted, but I’m an opportunist; I couldn’t let the situation go to waste.”

Steph recalled his words from the study, context helping it make more sense. She kissed him thoroughly. “You make me happy, Jason Head.”

“You make me happy, Stephanie Head.”

Dearest Reader,

As the season comes to a close, so too does the Duke of Altheban’s stay with us. We wish the duke and duchess and their newly adopted daughter safe travels as they take their leave, heading to the Duke’s native lands in Nanda Parbat, where they are sure to have many more adventures. We hope to see the Head family back in our midst one day.

With the season over, so I too shall disappear from your lives, gone but I hope certainly not forgotten. Until next season,

Adieu.

Lady Gotham

A/N 3:

-Thank you for reading and to @jaysteph-events for hosting this <3 -Join the JaySteph Discord (18+)! -The Duma and Elliot families are from DC canon as Gothamite socialite families. Duma is Polish, so I used the Polish spelling of Alexander for Lord Duma’s name. I couldn’t think why that had a nice ring to it until I remembered Alexandre Dumas, the author. He’s a few decades later, though, so there’s no overlap between him and my character. -Nursing wasn’t exactly the respected career it is now, since it was pre-Florence Nightingale. Jason, having trained somewhat [my hc] with (Middle) Eastern healers, who were more advanced and hygienic, would have more respect for nurses. -Jason’s horse is named Jericho, not after Deathstroke's kid, but after the make of Jason’s primary guns. I’m pretty sure Jericho 941s didn’t exist in 1810, so I used the name for his horse instead. -I was listening to Beethoven’s 5th as I wrote the scene where it’s playing in the background. Classical music is surprisingly fun background music for a scene where a character gets punched in the face :) And to those of you curious about if the 5th symphony existed in 1810, yes, it did–I looked it up: Beethoven wrote it in 1808. -I purposefully left this somewhat open ended so I can come back and write more in this AU when I want, such as Steph meeting Talia and the Bats finding out Jason is their Jason. -If there’s something I left unclear or you’d like to know more about some scene or read a specific future scenario, please leave a comment!

#jaysteph #fic #ali writes #jaystephvalentinesday #bridgerton au

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