#had to make a gif set he looked so good 😌

[kokillchi]

jamie bower at the emmanuelle press conference 🖤

[slamminslamminmcgill]

aaaaaaa i need poly deadclaws smoke session 🥺😵‍💫💖 you and wade being cringy stoners ripping wade's gravity bong together and logan walks in on you sitting in his lap on the couch.

"hey, honey badger, welcome home! aw, poor baby, you look so tired! you wanna hit?"

"the fuck are you two doing?"

“it’s called a gravity bong! a hallmark of stoner engineering! would you like a demonstration?”

"no."

“too bad.” wade puts the lighter in your hands, then squeezes them for encouragement. “show him, babes, just like i taught ya.”

you spark the lighter and carefully angle it into the bowl at the top. once it's lit, you grab the inner bottle and slooowly pull it upwards out of the water. the cloud inside it grows thicker, denser, bigger. it swells with the accompanying sounds of water underneath it. glug. glug. glug.

wade explains the mechanics to logan, “now THAT, boo boo bear, is about 2-liters of toke-a-cola right there. almost as fun as when they had cocaine in the recipe.” wade sneaks his hands under your baggy lounge shirt to pinch and pull your nipples, then gives you an open-mouthed kiss on your neck. he purrs his instructions to you. “chug it, honey-cunt.”

you rip the bowl out of the bottle, the smoke billowing out through the spout, and slurp it up as you sink the bottle down into the water. of course, the torrential cloud you had built was at LEAST 2-player content. you started coughing about a third of the way down, and wade had to take over.

“i got it, i got it!” he proclaimed, valiantly chugging what was left of the cloud. he blew some out and sighed with pleasure. “now… this kind of bong gives you… gives you BIG hits. so you get stupid fast.”

you nod in agreement, a hazy, air-headed smile on your face, “it also feels REALLY good for sex…”

"well, shit, why the hell ain't you lead with that?" logan climbs over the back of the couch and sits down next to you two. "give it here. show me how you work that thing.”

also i just KNOW logan gets giggly when he smokes weed it’s a fact god told me. he’s got cigar lungs so he takes to the gravity bong with surprisingly little coughing, but FUCK it makes him STUPID!!!! he gets super touchy feely too and he’ll prolly crawl on top of both of you.

“nngh, c’mon, lemme…” he grumbles, pawing for the bong that wade holds out of reach, “lemme hit it again…”

“i think the fuck not, babe! you will wait your turn in the rotation just like everyone else, young man!”

logan blows a raspberry at him and flops over to wade’s side. “pfft… bitch…”

“yes, sir, and that’s why you love me.”

he watches longingly as wade takes his rip, until his focus shifts to your shorts riding up on your thighs.

“hey. c’mere, boy.”

he tugs you into his lap and starts making out with you, stripping you from your comfy clothes, grinding his bulge up into your folds. you whimper, under your breath, and logan smirks, teasing you in hushed tones.

“ ‘s good, right?”

“mhm…”

“you gettin’ wet now?”

“mhm!”

once wade blows his smoke out, he notices what’s going on and gasps in mock offense.

“are you two seriously excluding me right now? what am i, ugly, or somethi—? wait, don’t answer that, i—“

“yes.”

“yep. knew that was coming. can’t even blame ya. i set you up for that one. anyway!”

wade pulls you to him by your hair and smooches your cheek affectionately before putting the lighter in your hands again.

“your turn, sweetie pie!”

and by the end of that rotation everyone’s clothes are off and you’re all touching each other’s junk 😌

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Walk The Line.

Carmen gets a little jealous. You don’t mind in the slightest.

roommate!carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. semi public antics.

word count - 2.5k

authors note - ask and you shall receive 😌. i’ll never get enough of roommate!carmy. i’ll be writing him forever. <3

as always, if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my writing, which generates more of it. feel free to send me a comment or an inbox, too!! thanks, my loves!! <3

series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.

He’s a little out of his depth, admittedly.

The invitation had been slid under your front door, pretty handwriting on creamy paper.

“A… party?”

“Does it say party, Carmen?”

“No, it says ‘mixer.’ What the fuck is a mixer?”

You laugh, scrubbing a mark off the final dish in the sink before placing it down in the drying rack. Carmy is sat on the counter across the kitchen, reading the invite over and over.

“Seriously, babe. The fuck does mixer mean? So it isn’t a party?”

You dry your hands and make your way over to take the paper from him, eyes scanning over it carefully.

“A mixer is like… a get to know each other thing. It’s sort of like a party, I guess, but not really. Just a casual gathering type situation.”

“Sounds fucking stupid,” he grumbles.

You smack his shoulder, rolling your eyes.

“Lighten up, asshole. It could be fun.”

“Fun? You think having a mixer with all the neighbours from our building on a Friday night is gonna be fun?”

“I think it sounds like an incredible time. My ideal evening. I can’t wait.”

You can’t even pretend not to laugh, grabbing onto his thigh to keep yourself balanced. He puts his hands on your shoulders, trying to look serious, but the grin fighting its way up his cheeks gives him away.

“You really wanna go?”

“Carm, if it’s terrible, we’ll just lie and say we’ve got plans elsewhere. We’ll run away screaming if we need to. It might be good for us though, to meet our neighbours properly. It’s good to get to know them, just in case we ever need anything.”

“What, like a cup of sugar? What is this, the thirties?”

“When you’re testing recipes and fucking them all up, you might be grateful to be able to nip next door and borrow a cup of sugar.”

“I don’t fuck recipes up.”

“No? Then why were you yelling at a lavender and oat crème brûlée last week?”

“It was mocking me,” he grumbles under his breath, hanging his head.

You can’t help but laugh, moving closer to stand between his manspread legs where he still sits on the counter. You brush a piece of hair back from his forehead, tracing your index finger in a featherlight touch down the bridge of his nose. He looks down at you, eyes glued to yours.

“I know for a fact you don’t have anything else planned on Friday,” you whisper.

He rolls his eyes but leans into your touch anyway, where you’re still tracing along the features of his face.

“You promise we can leave if it’s terrible?”

“We literally live in this building. We can just walk up the stairs and be home.”

He huffs, but relents.

“Fine. But please don’t leave me alone with all of the middle aged moms. They love me.”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” you giggle, leaning in to rest your head on his chest. His arms encircle you, pulling you as close as he can.

Is this scene too intimate for roommates? Without a doubt.

Do either of you care? Not in the slightest.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

It’s not as bad as he thought it’d be.

The middle aged moms have pulled through, actually. The lobby is decorated with fairy lights, tables covered in alcohol set up against the walls. Everyone has a drink in their hand, chatting and mingling amongst themselves.

You and Carmen walk downstairs a little late. He’d finished his shift and run home to shower and make himself look semi presentable before facing the neighbours.

“We need a signal,” he says suddenly, right as you reach the staircase. “In case of emergencies.”

“Pat your head.”

“Real subtle.”

“It doesn’t need to be subtle, it needs to be noticeable for me.”

“Fine,” he mutters, bumping his shoulder into yours. “Don’t leave me alone with that Erica lady. She scares me.”

“Yes sir,” you mock salute, slipping your hand into his momentarily. “You’ll be fine, Carmen. Like I said, we’ll just leave if it’s awful.”

It’s not awful, actually. It’s quite fun.

It’s nice to get to know the people in your building, seeing as you have lived there for a couple of years now. Carmen has been there even longer.

“Excuse me, sweetheart?”

You turn around to be met with an old lady, leaning carefully on her cane.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“I’m Dorothy. I live in 2B, and I just had to tell you that you look beautiful in your dress.”

You smile, pulling out a chair for her, which she takes gladly. You sit down next to her, spotting Carmy chatting with a couple of guys across the room.

“Thank you so much!”

You introduce yourself, telling her your name and apartment number.

“Ah yes,” she hums in recognition. “You live with your boyfriend who has all the tattoos.”

You almost choke on your drink.

“We’re just roommates,” you say eventually. “But yes, that’s him.”

“Oh, my apologies. I just assumed.”

You’re curious, suddenly. You know you shouldn’t be, but you can’t help yourself.

“Can I ask? Why you… thought we were dating?”

She chuckles knowingly before placing a hand on your knee.

“Honey, he’s got a hand on you at all times. He looks at you like you are the sun. Every time you walk past my window, you’re both laughing. Sounds like love to me.”

Her bluntness is refreshing, if not a little intimidating. No one will say it how it is more than a little old lady who can’t mind her business.

“We, uh… we’re close. He’s a good roommate. A good friend.”

She doesn’t look convinced in the slightest, chuckling as she pats your leg.

“Uh huh. That’s what I said about my husband - real good friend. We’ve been married 58 years.”

You smile, shaking your head.

“Is he here with you?”

“He’s upstairs. He can’t really leave the apartment, these days.”

“You know, if you ever need anything, me and Carmen would be happy to help.”

“No, sweetheart, I couldn’t ask you to-”

“-you’re not asking me, I’m offering. Carmen is an award winning chef at one of the best restaurants in this city. He’d be more than happy to make a meal or two when needed. And I can pick you guys up stuff from the grocery store when I go, too.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, grabbing your hand in her frail one. “You’re good kids, you two.”

You grin at her, squeezing her hand gently.

“You know where I am, if you need me.”

She nods, standing up carefully.

“I’m going to go see if that handsome Jeremy will come and fix my shower for me. He did promise.”

You laugh, watching as she makes a beeline for one of the dads stood in a huddle. You catch eyes with Carmy, who’s still chatting away with a few of the younger guys. He winks at you, all cheeky and carefree, and you can’t help but flush, heat prickling across your skin. You shake your head, smiling, winking back.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on your bicep. You spin sideways, to be met with the sight of a very handsome man. Dark hair, big brown eyes, tall - he looks slightly like a movie star you can’t quite remember the name of. You crane your neck to meet his gaze, smiling softly.

He holds out his hand to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m Daniel.”

You tell him your name, trying to ignore how his hand engulfs yours.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Have you lived here long? Think I’d remember a face like yours.”

Now he shakes his head.

“A month, maybe. I live in 6C. I’ve been working a lot, so haven’t had any time for introductions.”

“Ah. What do you do?”

“I’m a model.”

Of course he is.

“What do you do?”

As you start to tell him, his eyes fix on yours, not leaving for a moment. He listens carefully, both of you blocking out the noise and focusing on each other.

Turns out, Daniel is good company. The two of you find a spot in the corner, away from the noise and the wine drunk moms. The two of you laugh, joke, and talk about Chicago as if you’re old friends. Time slips away from you easily, conversation flowing with minimal effort.

“I don’t want to leave, trust me… but I have a super early call time tomorrow. If you wanted, we could grab a drink sometime, somewhere that’s not our buildings lobby?”

You laugh, nodding.

“Yeah, I’d like that. It was nice to meet you, Daniel.”

“You too. Here,” he says, handing you a small business card with his number on, “text me.”

“I might do just that,” you tease as he walks away grinning.

You’re on your way to grab another drink when a hand slinks around your wrist.

“Hi, Carmen.”

You don’t even have to turn to know who it is, recognising the feeling of his calloused hand against your soft skin.

“Where’s your friend gone?” he all but grumbles.

“He’s gone home, got to be up early for work.”

“Haven’t we all.”

“Ooo, okay Mr Attitude. You’re not having a good night? You didn’t give me the signal.”

“Would you have noticed if I did?”

You spin around to face him properly now.

“Yes, I would have. Because we’re in a tiny fucking lobby and not a football stadium, Carmen.”

He huffs.

“Didn’t think you’d notice if the building fell down, the way you were lost in his eyes.”

“I know it’s a foreign concept to you, Carmen, but eye contact is actually a very important part of conversation. Try it some time.”

Carmy rolls his eyes, grip on your wrist tightening.

“Come on,” he mumbles. “Wanna show you something.”

He practically drags you up the stairs, and up some more, and up some more. Eventually, you reach the roof.

The sun is just setting, casting the city in a warm orange glow. Everything is so calm, so peaceful, so serene. It’s beautiful.

You’re admiring the view when suddenly your feet are no longer on the ground. Carmy has you over his shoulder, carrying you across the rooftop to the brick wall.

“The fuck are you doing?” you cry as he finally puts you down.

He smashes his lips to yours, choosing to shut you up rather than answer you. You kiss back eagerly, confused but not disappointed at the turn in events. Slipping your hands into his hair, you tug him into you, groaning as he grabs at your ass.

“Carmen,” you breathe, “why don’t we just go home?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he mumbles against your neck, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. When he bites down, you smack his shoulder.

“No marks, asshole. The fuck is up with you?”

Again, he says nothing, just slips his hand under your dress to run his fingers over your underwear. You part your legs instantly, leaning back into the wall to steady yourself.

“Carmen, someone’s gonna see if they come up here.”

“Well then you better come quickly.”

He slips your panties to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat. You keen, knees buckling already.

“Oh baby,” he chuckles. “This all for Daniel?”

It all clicks for you suddenly.

“That’s what-” you choke as he slides a finger into you. “That’s what - fuck - has you so riled up? Daniel?”

“Don’t say his name when I’m knuckle deep, baby. It’s rude.”

You attempt to scoff, but it comes out as more of a moan when he presses his thumb to your clit, circling carefully.

“Am I not giving you what you need, honey? Is that it? Greedy girl just wants more, so she looks elsewhere to get it?”

“No,” you justify quickly. “You know that’s not true.”

“If you can still form sentences, I’m clearly doing something wrong.”

He slips a second finger in, curling them exactly the way he knows you like.

“Carm.”

“He couldn’t make you feel like this, babe. You and I both know it.”

You’re nodding, fingers gripping his shirt tightly as if you’re scared he’s going to walk away. His lips press into your neck again, nipping along the expanse of skin.

“Say it.”

“Hmm?”

You’re dazed, mind hazy with Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen Carmen.

“Say. It.”

He punctuates his words by curling his fingers harshly. You’re seeing stars, legs giving out.

“He - he… fuck, Carmen, please.”

“So close, honey. Try again.”

You know he won’t relent. He never does, when he’s in a mood. You have to just give him what he wants.

“He couldn’t make me feel this good, Carm. It’s all for you, only you.”

“Good girl. Knew you could do it.”

With that, he speeds up his fingers, his other arm snaking around your back to keep you standing upright.

“Give it to me, baby. Know you want to. That’s it, atta girl.”

“Come for me, there we go. Can feel you.”

“Good girl, good fuckin’ girl. So pretty like this.”

You fall over the edge, clenching like a vice around his fingers as you throw your head back. There’s a sheen of sweat coating your skin, chest heaving with every breath you take. Your vision goes white for a second, gripping onto Carmy’s biceps for dear life.

You rest your forehead against his chest, panting as you try to recover.

“Jealous Carmen is kinda mean,” you mumble into his shirt.

He laughs, wrapping his arms around you.

“You know I didn’t mean it, right? You’re free to date whoever you want. You could do a lot worse than Daniel the hot supermodel.”

You pull back, looking at him carefully.

“I know. I just… I don’t know if I’ll go. Seems a bit unfair to date him when my mind is on someone else.”

You both know exactly who you mean. You both also know that tipsy on a rooftop is not the place to have that conversation.

“Did you ever master the lavender crème brûlée?”

He chuckles, not expecting the sudden change in subject.

“Yes, I did.”

“Do we have any left?”

“We don’t. But I did make chocolate soufflé this afternoon, if that’ll satisfy your sweet tooth.”

“Fuck, yes,” you grin, leaning in to kiss him tenderly.

“I’ll make you a crème brûlée in work tomorrow. Promise.”

“Will you make two extras?”

He quirks a brow in confusion, so you continue.

“We’ve got two elderly neighbours. They’re not very mobile, so I said we’d drop stuff off every now and again.”

He smiles at you, all soft and melted.

“Of course. That heart of yours is too big for your chest, you know.”

You take hold of his hand, placing it there.

“Only sometimes.”

He kisses you again before throwing an arm over your shoulders.

“Let’s go eat chocolate soufflés and drink the rest of that wine you bought.”

“You’re a mind reader,” you laugh, making your way downstairs.

Maybe he is, you think later. You don’t mind in the slightest.

[jacesvelaryons]

wing woman.

social media au

tom blyth x fem!reader

prompt: tom’s newly single and fresh off the success of tbosas, and now he’s at rachel’s mercy to set him up and give him a moment to talk to her best friend y/n.

masterlist (to be updated)

please continue to like, and follow and especially comment how much you like my work or anything you want to see from me! and most importantly please reblog so more get to see these.

seeing the feedback and responses from people motivates me to keep writing these. if you ever want to be part of my taglist, let me know!

send me request of soc med aus, blurbs, stories/writing for tom blyth and his characters!

rachelzegler

yourusername i love you so much twin

liked by yourusername and others

happy birthday to my best girl, my twin flame, my other half, the light of my life y/n! as you make another rotation on this earth and continue to bless us with your presence, I hope to remain a part of your life.

↪️ rachelzegler can’t imagine life without you 🫂🫂

taylorswift my babies ❤️

phoebebridgers cute!

sadiesink happy birthday angel!

indiaamarteifio happy birthday girlie!

tomblyth hbd!

↩️yourusername thank you bud!

↩️ user45 oh okay 🤭👀

↩️ random182 this is inch resting

hunterschafer happy birthday my love!!! ❤️❤️❤️

liked by yourusername

↩️ yourusername tysm!

rachel’s messages:

yourusername

liked by tomblyth and others

totally didn't expect it but what a party @/rachelzegler and crew organized for me! so thankful for every year of my life and the people who made it so good. had the time of my life (still trying to wash out glitter from my hair)

tomblyth

ellefanning had so much fun girlie!

↩️ yourusername it's way more fun whenever you're around babe

ayoedibiri party of the year, happy birthday love!

↩️ yourusername thank you boo

daisyedgarjones xoxo

paulmescal ❤️

↩️ user99 all hail ireland 🇮🇪

liked by yourusername

user17 wasn't tom here 🤭 the party pic he posed kinda looked like this

↩️ user9274 you're right omg maybe rach invited him

joshandresgarcia slow down cowboy 🤠

liked by yourusername and others

partied till I lost track of time and woke up the next afternoon. I'd do it again.

↩️ tomblyth not anytime soon partner

yourusername

yourusername yeehaw

liked by tomblyth

↩️ tomblyth thanks for having me at your birthday party! 🥳

↩️ random274 aww this is cute

↩️ user163 glad they met r you got a vision girlie

↩️ rachelzelger ofc I do sweetie 🤭🤭😌trust me

liked by haileybieber and others

❤️

rachelzegler GIRL

rachelzegler PICK UP YOUR PHONE RN?!?!??

rachelzelger OFC YOU GO ON SILENT NOW ANSWER ME RNNNNNN

username723 is that tom omg

↩️ random926 had to be him he's exactly her type

↩️ username534 he's my type too

↩️ user111 girl get in line yn bagged him good 😭😭

oliviarodrigo someone's booed up and hasn't told me 😤😤

↩️ conangray girl pick up! @/yourusername

[buttercupjosh]

The Perfect Proposal (the 4 times you expected that Mat was going to propose + the 1 time he actually did)

(Gif credit to @mattymartin)

word count: 1,968

genres: established relationship, fluff, self-insert

warnings: none

A/N: This story is based off of the song “Joy of My Life” by Chris Stapleton and I make references to this song throughout the story. I highly recommend listening to this song before reading my story. This story is short, sweet and fluffy. It’s not set at a specific moment in time (It’s taking place in a fictional future but you could also say that it’s set this upcoming season or even a past season). It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. This is not a sequel to Your Favorite Secret (which you can still read and check out and if you want this to be a sequel to that, you can interpret it that way). As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

“Someday it will come right on cue.” -Somewhere Love Is Waiting for You from the Schmigadoon TV series soundtrack

Prologue

Meeting Mat changed your life in the best way possible. You took Mat’s breath away when you met up for your very first date and since then, you continued to take his breath away in small doses every time you saw him. He added so much goodness and love into your life and you did the same for him. Mat felt so grateful to have you in his life and even though he made millions, being with you was his greatest treasure. You and Mat deeply appreciated each and every moment you had together, no matter how big or small it was; the two years that you had been together so far were some of your greatest times. You were both so smitten that you always looked at each other with such deep love and devotion and couldn’t get enough of your significant other’s presence. For a while, Mat knew that he wanted to propose to you but he just needed to figure out the best way how to and time when to ask that all-important question.

————————————————————

It finally happened. After 3 challenging years, you finally completed law school and earned your Juris Doctor degree from NYU. All of your friends and family came into town to celebrate your accomplishment. In order to accommodate everyone, Mat graciously rented a large AirBnb house in the Hamptons to host your graduation party. You handled some aspects of the party planning while Mat handled the rest and the party went very well. During the congratulations portion of the evening, Mat wanted to give a quick remark to acknowledge your achievement.

“For the past 2 years, I watched this wonderful person ambitiously work their way through law school. There were a lot of late nights, early mornings and so many case reviews and vocabulary study sessions that I think I could go get a law degree. Y/N, to say that I am proud of you is a massive understatement. My love, you are so amazing and you did it. I love you so much. Because I love you so much, I have a surprise for you.” Mat spoke.

This moment seemed like it was the right time for Mat to ask for your hand in marriage; you had been dating for a while, you lived together and blended your families together, and he had just finished a great speech that made all of the party’s attendees realize how much he was in love with you. Instead, Mat handed you an envelope. Inside the envelope was a copy of a check for the exact amount that you owed in student loans and a letter informing you that your loans were fully paid off. You couldn’t believe what was happening and began to cry.

“How did you do this?”, you mustered out through your tears of joy.

“So you know how you gave me access to your book of important information in case anything happened to you? Well, I asked Liana to call the loan office to pretend to be you and ask for your account balance”, Mat cheesily revealed.

Mat saw firsthand how much distress and frustration law school caused you so he wanted to help out someone he deeply loved by eliminating the stress of having to pay for a student loan; this surprise was better than an engagement ring.

————————————————————

After your graduation party and after the Islanders were eliminated from playoffs, it was the official start of the off-season. This year, it was a milestone birthday for Mat’s dad so the Barzal family decided to do a European summer vacation to celebrate. You were important enough to their family that you had been invited and Liana, Mat’s sister, also invited her best friend to accompany her on the trip.

Hand-in-hand with the man you considered to be the love of your life and his family, for 3 weeks, you explored England, France, Monaco, and Mat’s ancestral homeland of Italy. In England, you indulged in English culture while Mat hilariously attempted a British accent. In France, you shared plenty of kisses with your lover in the City of Love, swooning every time Mat spoke French. In Monaco, you and Mat felt like the protagonists of a spy thriller while hanging out in the city.

Once you arrived in Italy, you got to see a different side of Mat that rarely came out. He had been to Italy several times before but he was thrilled to share all that he knew about that special place with you. Mat glowed differently whenever you got authentic gelato together or when he swam in the waters along the Amalfi Coast. Of course, throughout the trip, you still spent plenty of time with Mat’s parents, sister, and her friend and attended a lovely birthday dinner on a boat for Mat’s dad while visiting Sicily.

On the plane ride traveling back to Canada after your whirlwind European tour, you thought to yourself that you were going to come back to North America with a new jewelry addition to your left hand; you did have a lot of date nights and one-on-one time with Mat on the trip. However, your wonderful boyfriend did get you a gorgeous Cartier love bracelet from the official store in Paris and you were returning back with the gift of good memories that were created with your future in-laws.

————————————————————

The remainder of the off-season went by so quickly; between weddings, summer holidays, and other events all happening, you and Mat were swept in so many different directions. Time flies when you’re having fun and soon, it was already time to return to Long Island for the hockey season.

The usual ups, downs, and chaos of the hockey season lingered in your household but you navigated through it together. As the season went on, you spent a lot of time studying for the Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam and Universal Bar Exam, which allowed you to become eligible to be admitted to the New York State Bar next year. Even though you had those responsibilities, you still supported Mat at most of his home games. One of the things about Mat that you loved was how he would always quietly tiptoe into your shared home after a late game but he loved how you always waited up for him to come home after every game, regardless of what time he returned. Before you both knew it, the year was winding down and it was almost Christmas time. You and Mat had decided to host Christmas this year and both of your families were coming. This wasn’t the first time that both of your families had been together to celebrate an occasion; they were there all together for your law school graduation earlier in the year and both sides enjoyed being together as one cohesive unit but for some reason, things felt different to you this holiday season.

You spent hours preparing and making sure that everything was right for the arrival of your guests. Christmas came and went wonderfully. It was so nice to have your families together during the holidays. You gifted Mat a new game day tie and a gift card to one of his favorite road restaurants; Mat got you a nice bag to carry all of your work things and a personalized padfolio for you to take all of your legal notes in.

Yes, you were secretly expecting a diamond underneath the tree this year but it was okay because you still got other great gifts as well. Despite wanting something else, you still deeply cherished the time you got to spend with your loved ones.

————————————————————

After the holidays were over, you and Mat settled back into your respective routines until it was All-Star Break. Mat was not chosen for the All-Star Game that year and some of the Islanders players and families decided to go to the Bahamas for their team All-Star Break trip. The time away gave you and Mat both some essential rest and relaxation. At the end of February, you were scheduled to take the Universal Bar Exam but you took a break from studying to enjoy your mini-vacation. You stayed with your lover and company at a phenomenal resort; you swam with dolphins, relaxed at the spa, and ate so much tasty food. You also enjoyed lots of group activities with Mat and his teammates and their respective significant others. During the trip, one of Mat’s best friends’, Anthony, and his long-term girlfriend, Emma got engaged. It stung a little to see someone else reach the relationship milestone you deeply desired to share with Mat and you had expected that it was going to be you and your lover’s turn to share that special romantic moment on this trip, however, you were happy for your friends.

————————————————————

One evening, you came home from a long, exhausting day of work. After passing both the Universal Bar Exam and Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam and completing some other requirements, you were admitted to the New York State Bar last month and got a job as a junior attorney. It was a pleasant surprise to see Mat cooking; he was subtly singing in the kitchen and tenderly caring for some handmade pasta. You couldn’t quite make out what song Mat was singing but it didn’t matter what it was because you had caught him singing songs that you’ve played around the house and pop songs from the radio plenty of times before. You smiled to yourself as watched him in his element before slipping away for a much-needed shower.

After you came out of the shower and changed, there was a beautiful plate of pasta waiting for you on the table. Mat tapped deep into his Italian heritage and made a delectable dinner for the two of you. You shared with Mat the details of work and although, he may not quite fully understand everything you were expressing your feelings about, he still listened to you as you rambled on. After dinner concluded, you and Mat were going to share a box of bakery cannolis and watch a movie on the couch but Mat told you to wait at the table and suddenly got up. He returned to the room with a look of nervousness on his face. You asked Mat if he was okay but you could tell that he had something important to say.

“I’ve been holding onto this ring for a while. There were so many other times that I wanted to ask but there’s just something that feels so right about this moment. Sitting here, I realized something very important. I want to spend the rest of my life, making you dinner when I can and listening to you speak. I want to continue to come home from my games to you and wake up next to you. I have the greatest honor of knowing and loving you. You have the sweetest heart that’s made of gold and you are like an angel brought down to Earth from Heaven. I want to be by your side forever. Y/N, you are the joy of my life. Will you marry me?” Mat declared while holding out the engagement ring of your dreams in a Tiffany blue box.

You were speechless because Mat was right; this was the perfect moment. You looked straight into Mat’s green eyes that you admired so dearly and accepted his marriage proposal; you were both super excited to embark on this new journey in your relationship. You and Mat swayed with each other to the sound of your fiance’s voice, serenading you to “Joy Of My Life” by Chris Stapleton, the same song Mat was singing to himself earlier. Patience was an important virtue and all of that waiting paid off at the right time.

[the-californicationist]

Hiii

First of all I wanted to thank you for your amazing fics 🤩. They have become a part of my life and I can’t live without them anymore 🥹💖

Secondly, I wanted to ask about a fic if you would consider. 🫶

Price is injured in his thigh and we are a medic. When attending to the wound the tension rises and a little bit of teasing from our part? 😌

Also, Price can’t take us like he wants because of the wound but we can do 69?

Or maybe something more thrilling! I know you are the greatest in ideas and writing! ❤️‍🔥

Thank you a loooot. (*＾3＾）/～♡

Do No Harm

After being shot in the leg, Captain Price is put on strict bed rest by his medic: you. When he threatens to break your orders, you decide to use your rank against him.

AO3 Link

TW: female reader, face fucking, hurt/comfort, come play

When the captain got shot, all hell broke loose. Ghost and Gaz retaliated swiftly, and the bomb that Soap rigged to blow the enemy encampment was more than a little overkill. The four of them had shown up back at your makeshift base, sweaty, bloody, and exhausted. 

“What happened?” You asked the tall lieutenant, searching his face as he removed the skull mask, looking for signs as to how serious it was. 

“He took a hit to the thigh. Dead bloody center,” the tall Brit rolled his captain over, the latter of whom let out a torrid string of curses and shouts, nasty enough to make you blush. 

You inspected the wound, but his clothing was in your way. Ripping your scissors out of your chest armor, you set to cutting him out of his trousers, and you tried not to let the panic get the best of you. 

The truth was that you were keeping a secret. You were sleeping with their captain. You and John had broken a series of rules (and furniture) over the past four months, enjoying each other in the most primal, carnal way. Every night that he was on base, he sneaked into your medbay, aching with something other than pain and searching for his cure. 

You knew it was wrong. It was so far beyond protocol that you wouldn’t be surprised if they court martialed you when they found out, but you didn’t care. You were addicted to him. When he was away for too long, you crawled through the hallways and out into the common rooms with a slick problem between your legs. Something only his fat cock and filthy mouth could solve. 

He was terrible with you. Nothing was off-limits. He used you like a toy, and his fervid want was enough to burn you alive. In the darkness, his grasping hands and hot breath scorched your skin, searing across your belly, pinching your nipples, playing in your lips, all for the express purpose of making you come. It was his favorite thing. By the sixth, the seventh, when you were begging him to squeeze his pulsing rod inside of you, pleading in whispered cries for him to fuck you, he would chuckle with a dark joy. Teasing you, calling you his pretty little plaything, reminding you that you were fully at his mercy. 

It was hard to see him like this, but you were good at your job, and luckily, the bullet had gone right into the muscle. No broken femur, no arterial damage. Your predator would live to hunt you another day. 

“I need everybody out. Come back in an hour,” you commanded. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Gaz replied, leading the others out of the clinic to debrief and regroup after a hard night. 

You sliced through his canvas pants, slipping the shears through the fabric to reveal his bare skin. He never wore any underwear, which you were always quick to rib him for. Then, you inspected the wound. They had packed it in the field, and as you removed the dressings, more and more blood pooled out of the hole, obscuring your view. You worked as fast as you could, administering as much anesthetic as you had on hand, knowing that it wasn’t enough. He was doing everything he could not to writhe in pain as you threw stitch after stitch. 

“Jus’ wanted to get me alone, didn’t ya?” He teased you through gritted teeth. His voice was weak, but he was feisty, which was a good sign. 

You smiled down at him, joking around,

“You know it. But, you’re lookin’ a little worse for wear today, Captain. Might have to get my fix somewhere else.”

“Don’t even think about it,” he growled, grabbing the side of the table hard enough to make the metal frame whine when you hit a nerve with your needle, “Another man lays a fuckin’ hand on you, and he’ll wish he hadn’t.” 

“Can’t have you reopening this wound, John. I worked hard on these stitches.”

“How’m I gonna sneak in to see you tonight?” He looked up at you with softer eyes, a youthful gaze on his face. 

You pitied him, winking cheekily, 

“Might just have to keep you here for observation.”

His whole body relaxed then, relieved in a way you hadn’t expected. You had just been kidding around, but his reaction made you change your mind. If he felt better with you in your clinic, you’d add it to the orders. The last thing you needed was your headstrong man limping through the base just for a chance at some action. 

You finished up, cleaning the wound and surrounding skin, wiping down the rest of him as best you could. He was filthy, and the water in your bucket was full of sand by the time you were done. But, he still smelled like the sun and his sweat, and it was enough to make the animal part of your mind practically salver at the idea of how his skin must taste. The saltiness, full of his pheromones… you chastised yourself for even thinking about it. 

He was finally asleep, full of morphine and exhausted from his ordeal. Gaz popped back in, and you told him you’d be keeping their commander overnight. You thought you’d gotten away with your little game, but there was a knowing glint in the sergeant’s eye that told you he knew more than you thought. 

You tried not to stress about it. His men were loyal to him, and you knew they wouldn’t rat you out. But, still. You made a mental note to be more careful in the future. 

Your bedtime routine was short and easy. You slipped into some shorts and one of John’s abandoned tee shirts. Luckily, it looked like everyone else’s tee shirt, so no one was the wiser. You could always say you stole a larger one from the supply room. But, it smelled like him, and you slept like a rock when you wore it. 

You climbed into bed, and before you could even think about going to sleep, the ache between your legs reared its horny head, coaxing you to touch yourself, disguising itself as a tingle, an itch that needed to be scratched. As soon as your fingers pried apart your soft petals, you discovered the truth. You were soaking wet, and your core was hot like molten lead, giving your digits no resistance as you played with yourself, slipping them in and out of your slick folds. 

You heard a noise escape from your throat against your will, and you tried to hold it back, rolling your eyes from the slam of pleasure that rushed to your head. You were dizzy with want, and even though you tried to quiet the sound, you could hear your own wet flesh popping and sluicing with more and more of your precome, preparing you for an encounter you knew you couldn’t have. 

You came quickly, and without much warning, clenching down on nothing, biting your hand to keep from screaming for him. You peeked over your shoulder, and luckily, he hadn’t woken up. You thought about how nice it would feel to have his big body curled against you as you crashed into a deep slumber, the scent of your wet hand and his old shirt mixing together and lulling you to sleep. 

There was no way to tell how much time had passed, but when you woke, it was still dark. Your eyes darted over to the clinic table, and John was… missing?

You sat up with a start only to find him fully naked at the end of your bed, getting ready to crawl in beside you. 

“John!” You hissed, “What are you doing? You can’t be walking around.”

“Gotta have you, love. I’m so hard, it hurts.”

“You were shot in your fucking leg, Jonathan Price. Let me see the dressing.”

“Quit fussin’ over me, girl. C’mere,” he covered you with his body and grabbed your wrists, forcing you to lay beneath him, flat and vulnerable. He set to pulling away your clothes, making quick work of it, sighing raggedly when he felt your naked body beneath his own. 

But, he was in pain. You could see him adjusting and readjusting, trying to figure out how he could fuck you like he wanted to, unable to find a solution. 

“John,” you whispered, feeling his mouth on your neck, “We can’t. You’re going to hurt yourself. Don’t make me order you to stop.”

“I’m your commander,” he breathed, threatening you with his teeth, leaving a bruise on your sensitive skin. 

“Don’t…” you gasped as his fingers found your gooey center, “Don’t confuse your rank for my authority, Captain Price. You’re under my care.”

He glared at you, coming to a pause, leaving his fingers in you to play in your hole, gently pulsing in and out, teasing you just enough to keep you on the edge, 

“You want me to stop? Hm?”

The more he teased you, the more hot slick collected on his hands, sticky and clear, covering his fingers and making him harden with every moment. 

Then, he took a sharp breath in through his nose, and paused, hiding his grimace in the crook of his arm. You canted your hips, removing his hand from you, fed up with his defiance, 

“John, that’s enough. If you make me restitch that wound, I will have to do it without drugs. We’re out of anesthetic.”

“Please, love,” he held you close to him, letting you feel his hard length as it rolled against your tummy, making a trail of precome across your skin, “I need you. I’ve missed you so bad. Lemme fuck you. Put my cock in you.”

“Hold on,” you shifted your body so that he would turn on his side. Then, you lay opposite him, your head laying at the foot of the bed, bringing you face to face with his swollen, hungry cock. 

In this position, you could suck him off, and he wouldn’t need to use his thigh. 

You licked your lips, trailing them across his cockhead, collecting his salty pearls of pleasure and wearing them like gloss, suckling from his tip as softly as you could just to taunt him further. 

“Ahhh, fuck…” His sigh was delicious. All of that pain and all of the stress that had made him so tense rushed out of him, making his skin pebble with bliss. 

Without hesitation, John bent his head, pulling your hips to his open mouth, and wrapping your leg under his arm, eating your pussy and groaning with a lurid, feral pleasure. 

The feeling of his soft lips and scruffy beard against your sensitive skin flung you into a spiral of pleasure. You could feel his warm tongue prodding and exploring through you, greedily splitting you to get to your hot, honeyed center. 

You wanted more of his taste, so you went to work, stretching your jaw to accommodate his girth, taking him deeper into your throat, using your tongue to trace a wet circle around his head when you needed to catch your breath, teasing him just beneath his foreskin. When you did, his cock throbbed for you, egging you on, eager to drip its load into your mouth. 

“Fuckin’ hell, love. Gonna make me come,” he threatened. 

Suddenly, you felt his fingers dip back inside of you. He was aggressive with his fondling, shoving two of his thick digits deep inside of you, curling them cruelly to press upon your most pliant, responsive spot. 

As he fucked you with his hand, he let his tongue lap against your clit, making you whine around his dick, muffled by his shaft. You felt his hips begin to thrust forward and back, desperately fucking your throat, getting closer and closer to releasing his orgasm inside of you. 

You couldn’t wait to taste him. You wanted him to use you. You didn’t want to hurt him, but the truth was — as hungry as he was for your body — you needed him just as badly. 

You felt your body begin to tense, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he would have you coming on his hands. He kept his pace, knowing your favorite rhythm, humming to himself as he devoured you, sucking up every drop of your wetness as if he’d never drink from your tight font again. 

Your toes curled, your legs tried to close in on themselves, stopped by his body trapped between them, and something snapped inside of your core, letting loose spiraling sparks of pleasure, breaking you apart over and over, only for each gentle lick from his tongue to put you back together. 

“Mmhm,” he praised you, “Good girl. Just like that. Rub your come on my mouth.”

You did as you were told, no longer in the driver’s seat when it came to your body, fully trained to submit to his will. You shamelessly smeared your pussy across his bearded jaw, humping lewdly against him, all for him to whisper gratefully between licks, 

“Yes, more. More. Give it to me. Fuck my mouth, love. Fuck, I love it. Fuck…”

All the while, he was thrusting into your mouth, deeper and deeper, choking you on his hardness. But, you let him. You allowed him to use you, holding onto his hips for dear life, breathing in every gap that he left, gasping for air, feeling yourself getting dizzy. 

“Are you ready for me?” He groaned, peering down at you between your bodies.

You moaned something you hoped sounded like a yes, and he turned his full attention towards you. You felt his fingers leave your pussy, only to wrap themselves through your hair, sticky and messy, making a strong, merciless grip at the base of your skull. 

He fucked you in earnest, then. It was gratifying to hear his satisfied grunts, and as you felt his cock swell even more, you knew he was about to come. Your mind wanted air, but your body wanted his load. You wanted to feel it slip into your  throat, hot and milky, pouring down your neck like a salacious prize. 

Finally, he went stock-still, and the only thing that moved was his cock. It throbbed inside of you, shooting rope after rope of heavy come down your tongue, painting your mouth white. 

He removed himself from you as quick as he could, pulling your head back up to your pillow, bringing you face to face with him, whispering in an animalistic tone, 

“Lemme see it, pretty girl. Open up. Let me… ahh, yes. That’s it.”

He dipped his finger into your mouth, gathering up his own orgasm onto the tip, smearing it around your lips like he was putting on your makeup. 

You were panting, gasping in the air you so desperately needed, and you tried not to swallow, gathering up as much of his foaming fluid on your tongue as you could, sticking it out for him, showing him what a good girl you could be. 

He took more of it onto his hand and dipped down between your legs, painting your swollen folds with his spend, mixing your come together like some ritual. 

You couldn’t help but whimper. You were overstimulated and raw, and he shushed you, bringing his hand back up to play with your soft nipples, 

“Shh, it’s okay, love. It’s okay. Kiss me.”

You felt his mouth crash into yours, and your own heady taste invaded your senses, folding in with his, making your body roll itself against him, begging him for more. 

“Leg already feels better. C’mon, love. Give us the go ahead, hm?”

“I will tie you to this bed, John Price. Don’t test me,” you looked up at him before laying your head on his furry chest, breathing when he breathed, watching his hairy belly rise and fall. 

“Promise?” He chuckled, pulling you closer and holding you there all night, unwilling to compromise, claiming you in every way he knew how. You dozed against him, sated and happy, wondering how long you could keep a secret this good. 

Sorry for the wait! Work is hellish right now, but as soon as this semester is over with, I'll be posting more. Thanks for letting me know your thoughts.

[onsunnyside]

thinking of JJ teaching you how to kiss 🥺 starting off with little pecks that slowly drag into short kisses. you try hard to follow his lead, but your inexperience is so painfully obvious 😖

this drabble has been turned into a fic 😋 here’s the masterlist: what friends are for

allow me to set the scene: it’s movie night at the chateau, beers and snacks litter the floor, everyone is tucked under blankets as the opening credits flicker on the television screen.

as the marathon went on, JJ couldn’t help but notice that you’d look away during the sex scenes. as your best friend, he knew you weren’t the most experienced, but kissing? “You’ve never been kissed?”

You cover your face, embarrassment flooding in. “You don’t have to say it like that!”

“I’m not—I’m not teasing.” His smile says different. He easily pulls your hands away from your face, “it’s just not what I was expecting.”

“I know, I know. You probably find it so funny.” You huff and roll your eyes, “laugh all you want, jerk.”

And like you expected, he does but quickly apologizes. “Sorry, sorry. Okay, maybe it’s a little funny. But not in a bad way! It’s actually cute.”

Cute?

“It’s adorable.” He coos, pinching your cheek, “itty bitty baby hasn’t had her first kiss… not even with that poster in your bedroom?”

ooohh and when he kisses you: it’s so sweet, so tender. he tastes like beer and a bit of weed, and his lips are softer than they look. he’s slow and steady, pressing his forehead against yours while you take a break.

“You can breathe while we kiss.” He chuckles, nudging your nose with his, “don’t want you passing out on me, sunshine.”

One of his hands slip behind your neck and the other falls to your thigh, warm and gentle. “Do you want to stop?”

You glance at your friends, still passed out on the floor and other couches, the movie playing dully in the background. “No?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?”

“No.” You repeat, firmer this time. “I don’t want to stop. Pl-Please don’t stop.”

How could JJ deny you? Especially when you ask so dreamily with that glazed look in your eyes. He fights the urge to pull you into his lap and touch you all over, and make you into a pretty mess. So he connects your lips again, taking the lead and slipping his tongue into your mouth.

The unmistakable wet noises make you a little tingly 😖 along with him tilting your head to kiss you deeper. “You can touch me too,” he murmurs, bringing your hand to the back of his neck, your fingers automatically curl in his blond hair and draw a low groan from his throat.

That’s when you go completely dumb, totally thoughtless, all concerns flying out of your mind and joining the blue birds above your heads.

JJ pulls away, voice raspy, “you keep forgetting to breathe, baby.”

“I’m sorry,” you exhale heavily, heart fluttering in your chest. “I’m not good at this yet.”

His lips trail to your jaw, the movie long forgotten, “It’s okay, we have lots of time to practice.”

I just know he’d offer to teach you other things too, all in the realm of pleasure and intimacy 😌

some over the clothes touching, getting hot and heavy in your bedroom after he sneaked in through the window:

“You gotta keep quiet, baby,” he coos, rubbing your swollen clit through your panties, your juices soaking the poor cotton, “I know it feels good, feels real nice when I play with your pretty pussy, huh?” He can only imagine how you’d taste, “Are you paying attention? You’re gonna have to show me what you learnt after we’re done.”

[darkserenity24]

hey! would you be opposed to writing a loki x reader one shot where he sees the reader's drink get roofied and protects them? i love me a good fight scene for the reason of romance 😌

𝘽𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝘽𝙖𝙨𝙝

Loki x Reader

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘕𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦’𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳.

𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 4.9𝘒

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯!𝘓𝘰𝘬𝘪, 𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘵!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵/𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘯𝘰𝘯-𝘤𝘰𝘯 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦

𝘼/𝙉: 𝙂𝙞𝙧𝙡, 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚. 𝙄 𝙙𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙖𝙡𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨. 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙖 𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙞𝙚 𝙖𝙨𝙠? 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙣𝙤 𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙄’𝙢 𝙨𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙨𝙛𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣. 𝙇𝙚𝙩’𝙨 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 💚

You met Thor while on a leisure trip in Norway. He was doing his routine check-in with the Valkyrie, the recently appointed King of New Asgard, and you were spending most of your time exploring the land and working on your pieces.

On the last day of your trip, you gathered your work materials and settled down in a nearby park. Thor Odinson, of all people, happened to stumbled upon you in your natural habitat, intensely focused and covered in paint while working on your latest piece. Slowly, he crept up from behind you to take a look at your painting and was immediately blown away by your creation.

“Oh my, you are exceedingly talented!” 

His unexpected jovial tone startled you, causing you to jump and accidentally swipe a blotch of red paint across the entire canvas.

You blinked, disappointment rising within you before looking back at the cause of your now ruined painting.

Your eyes widened when you saw who it was. Yes, you were aware you were vacationing in New Asgard but the last person you expected to see in the park on a Sunday morning was the god of thunder.

“Oh no! My sincerest apologies, my lady.” He uttered, frowning guiltily at your destroyed painting. “I fear I forget that my presence can be quite jarring to others at times.”

You shook away your frustration, granting Thor a small smile. “No, it’s alright. It’s only one painting. I make lots of them.” You shrugged, removing the canvas to set it on the ground and grabbing a blank one to set on the easel.

“Yes, yes, I see. They are truly magnificent,” He praised, observing the various canvases you had lying around. “Are you available for commissions?”

You stopped in your movements, brows rising in surprise. “Umm y-yeah sure,” You stuttered. “I do commissions, but unfortunately this is my last day here. I’m heading back home tomorrow morning so I won’t be around for much longer.”

“Oh? Where do you reside?” He inquired curiously.

“A place far away from here. I’m a New Yorker. ” 

You watched as a knowing grin grew on his friendly features. 

“Oh, that is perfect.”

The next thing you knew, you and your paintings were shooting off to New York in a quinjet headed towards the Avenger’s New Facility. That was where you were introduced to Tony Stark, the man who not only bought a lot of your original artwork, but also commissioned several other pieces from you.

You were even asked to design and construct a mural pretty sizable mural in the compound’s main lobby. 

You couldn’t be happier for the amazing opportunities that came upon you just from your coincidental meeting with Thor, in another country of all places, and made sure you thanked him every time you saw him.

Thor became a very good friend, frequently inviting you to hang out with him and the team any time he was in town. A lot of these hangouts ended up being parties thrown at the tower. 

That’s where you first met Thor’s brother. Loki Laufeyson.

If Thor and Loki were like night and day, you and Loki were like oil and water. You didn’t mix well at all.

To put it lightly, you and Loki did not get along from the start. When you first met him, you were pretty optimistic, however, that changed immediately when he didn’t even give you the courtesy of speaking to you. Or even smiling. He stared at you as if you walked into the room with two heads, sharp eyes scrutinizing every inch of you as Thor introduced you to him. Then he left, only parting with a hum that felt just as judgmental as his disapproving gaze did.

After that, you thought things would get better with him, but it only got worse. You tried to hide your annoyance for a while but couldn’t help it. You could only take so much. His icy green stare and offensive backhanded remarks made your blood boil anytime you had to deal with him. 

It was no secret that you both hated each other.

One moment you were way too happy for him to be around and the next you were utterly boring. Nothing you did or said seemed to make him like you, and eventually you gave up. His approval didn’t mean shit to you anyway.

You were sick of him turning his nose up at you for god knows what and you began returning the favor since he was always being a pompous ass towards you for no apparent reason.

Thor tried to make excuses for his younger brother, stating that he was like this with almost everyone, but something within you knew that Thor didn’t even believe that excuse himself.

Loki was just being an asshole just because he could. He was a spoiled brat and thought himself above you for whatever reason. You tried not to let it bother you but sometimes you’d find yourself daydreaming about smashing his stupid, perfect face into the nearest wall. You weren’t a violent person by any means, but he was starting to make you wish you were. 

Thor and the others did not help the precarious situation between you and both, only seeming to stoke the fire even more at times by watching you two argue. The team seemed amused by your bickering, especially whenever you got in a really clever insult that seemed to make the dark-haired Asgardian tick.

Eventually, they came to the obvious (and much safer) conclusion that it was a bad idea to have both of you around at the same time. They didn’t want to be responsible for allowing you to rip each other's heads off and did their best to keep you separated as much as possible.

You didn’t want to be invited to another gathering unless there was a one hundred percent guarantee that the god of aggravation was not going to be in attendance.

So imagine your surprise when you arrived at Thor’s birthday party with multiple gifts in hand, only to nearly drop all of them when walking right into an unexpected firm, unyielding body.

Frowning, you glanced up in surprise, not having seen anything or anyone in your path beforehand. A cool green narrowed gaze stared down at you, scrutinizing your presence as usual.

“Why are you here, mortal?”

Your face sobered and you felt the beginnings of a hot ball of irritation bubble up in your chest. 

“I came to flip burgers.” You droned sarcastically before shaking your head with a sigh. “Why do you think, Loki? I’m here for Thor’s party, obviously.”

“That oaf informed me that you were not invited.” Loki groused, towering over you like some bodyguard.

“Well, he told me the same thing about you. Apparently, he lied to both of us.” You said wryly. “And don’t call your brother an oaf.”

“Why do you care what I call him?” He snidely questioned.

“Because I’m his friend and it’s rude to call him names. Now move out of my way.” You demanded, barely giving him a second to move out of your path as you charged past him.

You couldn’t even get through the door without witnessing Loki’s overcritical expression and judgy attitude. That man could annoy you like no other. It was as if he made it his full-time job to bother you.

Walking through the room, you spotted the gift table and trotted over, setting your presents down carefully.

“Ah! There’s my favorite artist. Good to see you, friend!” You heard a familiar booming tone and turned to see Thor pranced over towards you.

“Hey, big guy. Happy Birthday!”

He engulfed you into a hug before letting you go and instantly turning his focus towards the gifts.

“Are those for me?” He inquired with an innocent grin.

You raised a brow, shooting him a look. “No, they’re for everyone else but you.” You joked before laughing. “Yes, Thor. They’re yours.”

He feigned a look of shock before grabbing one of your gifts off the table. It was thin and rectangular, covered neatly in dark blue wrapping paper with golden thunderbolts.

Your brow crinkled in uncertainty. “Wait, you’re gonna open it now?” 

He looked at you and shrugged. “Yes, of course. It is my birthday after all.” He smirked with a wink before tearing into the carefully folded wrapping paper.

You watched as his features transformed into a look of curiosity, then quickly switched to one of pleasant surprise as examined the gift thoroughly.

It was a portrait-style painting of complete his family: Thor, Odin, Frigga, and yes, even Loki. From what you understood, all traces of his family heirlooms vanished into space when Asgard had been destroyed in Ragnarok, so you assumed there were no other pictures he had of them all together.

“Wow, this is spectacular! And extremely thoughtful of you. I never thought I would see all of us in one setting again.” He said in awe as he continued to observe the painting.

You crossed your arms with a nod. “I remember you briefly mentioning how you missed your family, so I thought this might be something you would appreciate.”

“I certainly do. Thank you. I couldn’t ask for anything better.” 

“You haven’t even opened all of the others yet so how would you know that?” You scoffed.

“There is a method to my madness. I opened yours first because I know you always bring the best gifts.” He stated as if it was common knowledge.

“I’m not falling for your flattery sir, but I am really glad you like it.”

“No, I love it. Thank you, my friend.” Thor said with a genuine smile, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Of course, buddy.”

In typical Thor fashion, his attention was pulled away, focusing on something behind you. You watched his eyes light up, and he began waving his hand back and forth, attempting to grab someone else’s attention.

“Hey! Loki!” Thor bellowed across the room. “Come here, brother. I have something to show you.”

You tensed and your gaze followed Thor’s across the room, landing on the last person you wanted to see. 

You were slightly startled to see his gaze already fixed on you, green eyes simmering with something indiscernible. As always, he appeared to be upset just by your mere presence. 

You’ve been at the party for barely ten minutes and hadn’t done anything to deserve his ire. The man was confusing as hell.

“She has created a portrait of our family. Come see!” Thor prattled, doing his best to get his broody sibling to come closer. 

Loki continued to glare daggers into you, barely giving Thor a glance before stalking off elsewhere.

You frowned, more offended on Thor’s behalf than anything else.

“What’s his problem? Does me being here really bother him that much?” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “He can’t even get over himself long enough to make this a good day for you.”

“It is alright, friend.” Thor retorted, looking more amused than you expected him to be. “Loki has been having a tough time. I thought this painting might have cheered him up a bit. Among other things…” He trailed off with a raise of his brows.

“What could he possibly be dealing with that put him in this bad of a mood on your birthday? Did he not get his breakfast on time today?” You smirked.

“No, nothing of major consequence. Let us just say he is fighting against himself when it comes to his feelings about certain things, or certain people.”

Your eyes squinted, not fully understanding what he was getting at. “Huh?”

Thor waved his hand. “Oh, nothing truly of your concern. He shall learn how to navigate eventually.”

“Sure,” You replied, giving him a skeptical look. “I should’ve known you weren’t telling the truth when you said he wouldn’t be here.”

Thor had the nerve to look sheepish, his hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck. “Ha- yes… about that-”

“Thor! Get over here, man. The DJ’s about to start and we need to tear up this dance floor.” A voice called out to him. 

You turned to see Sam Wilson, who also greeted you with a nod. 

“Oh, I do enjoy a good disc jockey,” Thor said excitedly before turning to you. “Would you like to join us?”

“Maybe later,” you replied. “I’m gonna go find Wanda and Nat so we can discuss how old you are now. I’m planning to get in a few old man jokes before the night is over.”

“If you must. Though I am still fairly young by Asgardian standards.” Thor proclaimed with a flex of his muscles, causing you to laugh and Sam to roll his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, enough showing off, birthday boy. Let’s get on the floor.”

Once they left, you ambled around the room, eventually finding the others and stopping to chat with them. Thor’s party was now in full swing with people crowding the entirety of the room, all looking like they were having a merry time. 

After a while, the music became a bit too loud so you headed out onto the balcony for a bit of quiet.

Walking towards the edge, you leaned onto the railing and breathed in the fresh night air. It was quite peaceful. However, that peace only lasted for but a moment.

“Is there not any place I can be rid of you?” a deep, resonant voice complained.

Your whipped your head around, meeting Loki’s forever accusing gaze as he stood less than five feet away from you. His arms were crossed as he glared at you, looking as if you were the one disturbing his peace.

You straightened and turned to fully face him, having had enough of his unwarranted antagonism against you for one night.

Placing a hand on your chin, you provided him with an exaggerated expression of thoughtfulness. 

“Oh, I know! How about you just, I don’t know, leave?” You gestured with your hand. “The door’s right there.”

“I was here first, therefore you should be the one to leave. You’re in my space.” He argued.

“I was here first.” You mimicked his accent. “What are you, a five year old? God, I cannot even breathe without you getting bothered. You have some serious anger issues.”

“Perhaps you should stop breathing at all.” He sneered, taking a menacing step towards you. “That way I’d never have to see your face again.”

You flinched, taken aback by his increasing hostility. His malice towards you truly had no boundaries.

“Wow,” You breathed out in disbelief. “Are you sure you’re related to Thor? Because you are nothing like your him. I’m starting to think you were adopted and your real parents were probably monsters.”

His face dropped immediately, and you were about to claim your victory until you saw him swallow hard, a look of intense hurt appearing on his beautiful features.

Just as quickly as it appeared, his pained demeanor was gone, replaced with a look much more sinister. Angrier.

He took slow deliberate steps toward you, and it took everything in you not to back away. 

“Are you aware of how pathetic you are? How pitiful you look while shamelessly flirting with my brother like some desperate harlot?”

Your eyes almost popped out of your head. “What? I never-”

“It is an absolutely nauseating sight to be forced to witness. As if someone as repulsive as you could compare to an Asgardian god. As if your own species would even want to be around you. You are nothing but an insect I’d willingly crush with the bottom of my boot. A pest to be rid of.” 

You stood with your back straight and rigid, watching as he took one last step toward you, barely an inch between your bodies as he leaned down towards your face and whispered harshly through clenched teeth.

“You absolutely disgust me.”

The air was quiet between you for a moment, your chest heaving as you met Loki’s searing contemptful gaze. 

No one was more shocked than you when tears started rolling down your cheeks. Loki blinked, his breath hitching quietly as he realized what he had done.

He opened his mouth, yet no other words came out to your utter relief

You bit your lip looking away, embarrassed at the knowledge that you had finally cracked. 

You didn’t want to look weak in front of him. You didn’t want to cry. He was the last person who deserved your tears.

However, you couldn’t ignore the feelings of extreme hurt filling your chest. You didn’t know how much more of his hatred toward you could take. 

This was it. He won.

Slowly, you lowered your gaze towards the ground and took a step back while nodding your head.

“Okay,” You voice came out weaker than you wanted it to. “You made it extremely clear about how you see me. You don’t have to worry about me coming around anymore. Bye, Loki.”

You backed away and turned your back to him, ignoring his gentle call of your name as you returned to the party.

You wanted to leave, to go home and curl up in a ball and sulk for the rest of the night. You told yourself that you didn’t care about his opinion, yet the hot, tight feeling in your chest was telling you otherwise. 

But you held strong. You couldn’t leave Thor’s party yet. Especially since this was most likely going to be the last time you’d see him in a while. The thought of having to see Loki, or even thinking about him made a huge lump form in your throat. 

You didn’t want ever see him again. He was a complete and utter jackass.

You trailed over to the bar, eyeing the glass bottles with a sad gaze. You weren’t planning to drink at all, but now you felt like you had to be able to get through the rest of the night. A margarita or two wouldn’t hurt.

Sitting down on a bar stool, you stared into space, mind replaying what Loki had said to you. What he had professed to you with a burning passion. The worst part was that you believed he meant every word. He was switched from being petty to cutthroat in only a second.

Did he really think that you wanted Thor? Did it truly seem as if you were always flirting with him? You did love Thor as a friend. How could you not? He’s literally changed your life for the better after meeting him. 

You could barely afford to pay your bills on time before he recommended you as an established artist to all his friends and colleagues. You were appreciative of his support and genuine friendship, but by no means were you interested in a romantic relationship with him. 

Loki’s perception of you was completely wrong, and he didn’t even give you a chance to tell him otherwise.

“Fuck him,” You grumbled, taking a small sip of your drink before walking over to sit at an empty table in the corner. 

You eyed the dancing crowd not too far from you. Thor and his friends looked like they were having a blast. They were indeed tearing up the dance floor. If Loki hadn’t ruined your night, you would’ve happily joined in.

“Who are we fucking?”

You turned your head to the side, startled to see a blonde haired man sitting down beside you. He was certainly not familiar.

“Excuse me?” 

“You said, and I quote, “fuck him”. I was just curious about who we were talking about,” he replied with a charming smile.

We? You eyed him skeptically before answering. “No one, just some asshole that I don’t need to spare a second thought on.”

“Then don’t.” He said. “Talk to me instead. I’ll be your distraction.”

You hummed, slightly confused but not immediately put off by the idea. 

“Are you one of Thor’s friends?” You questioned. You’ve never seen this man before in your life. 

“No, kind of a friend of a friend.” He said with a shrug before holding his hand out to you. “John Walker, and you are?”

You shook his hand, providing him with your name as well.

“Pretty name for a pretty woman.” He winked before nodding towards your now empty glass. “How about I buy you another drink?”

Your brow quirked. “You know we don’t have to pay for these right? It’s an open bar.”

He blinked in surprise, looking perturbed. “Shoot. Then who did I give my credit card to?”

Your eyes widened but you quickly realized he was joking when a smirk crossed his face.

“Just kidding.” He said, chuckling at your expression. You rolled your eyes with a small smile. 

“I’ll go get you that drink. Be right back.”

He left for the bar, returning shortly with a glass of red wine. Sitting next to you again, he continued asking you more questions about yourself. You didn’t normally give men who flirted with you right away the time of day, but considering he was doing a good job keeping your mind off the person who shall not be named, you started to enjoy his company.

At least he didn’t think you were a disgusting insect that should stop breathing.

The drinks were helping, you thought, but you knew you’d have to stop eventually. You had to get home somehow and didn’t want to put pressure on anyone else here to take you because you had one too many.

“Another one?” John offered after you finished your second drink. 

You declined. “Um, no, I think I’ve had enough for the night.”

Your brows pinched as you felt your head start to spin. You only had two drinks, yet you felt as if you had about five. Your body felt lighter than usual, and the music seemed extremely loud. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned for you.

“Um, I-I don’t really know.” You huffed, holding your head. Your vision was getting blurrier by the minute. Panic started rising in your chest.

“I think I need to go to the restroom.” You slurred, attempting to stand up from your seat. When you stumbled on your feet, John shot up and grabbed you, holding you steady. 

“Woah there! I think you had more alcohol than you led me to believe.” He tutted, throwing your arm around his shoulder while wrapping one of his around your waist. “Here, let me help you.”

You shook your head and immediately regretted it as it made you even dizzier. “N-no I got it.”

“It doesn’t look like it.” He protested. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

“But-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before John practically carried you through the busy crowd and out of the room.

“No Joh… please. I wanna stay.”

He shushed you, leading you to a nearby restroom. You were confused when you entered, only feeling more alarmed when you realized it was a private bathroom. 

He released you and you stumbled backward, hitting the wall as you tried to move away as far as possible from him. He stood on the opposite side, locking the door before turning to leer at you.

His hungry gaze traveled down your body and you shivered. 

“I’ve been watching you all night, you know.” He admitted while biting his lip. “I noticed you as soon as you walked into the room, and immediately knew that I wanted you.”

“Please..” You stammered, slowly shaking your head back and forth. “I don’t like this.”

He strolled over to you, running a hand down your face while shushing you. “It’s okay sweetheart, you will soon. Trust me.”

You attempted to push his hand away but failed, barely able to move your arm correctly with your lack of strength.

“Stop,” you whimpered, tears now streaming down your face. “Please stop or I’ll scream.”

He laughed in your face. “Go ahead. Do it. No one will hear you, sweetie. I made sure of it.”

His cruel words made your panic transform into anger, and suddenly a rush of adrenaline surged within you. You used that moment to raise your foot as high as you could before slamming it back down onto his as hard as possible.

“Fuck!” He yelled, stumbling backward. “You fucking bitch!”

You scrambled towards the door in a clumsy hurry but failed to open it. You yelped as you felt John grip your neck before shoving you into the wall. 

Then you heard the loud slam of the restroom door as it burst open from the other side.

A tall, blurry figure stood there, letting out a loud curse before charging in. The painful grip on your neck was instantly removed, and you sank to the floor with your back against the wall.

The sound of pained grunts and cries of anguish filled the room. You peered upward, attempting to focus your gaze on the violent commotion going on before you.

Your eyes widened at the familiar sight of the man who was currently beating into John as if his life depended on it. 

Loki?!

Your mouth went agape as you watched John struggle to remove the other man away from him as Loki continued to pound his fist into his face. 

“You fucking snake!” He yelled, one hand gripping John’s neck and the other hitting his face. “Is this what you do?! Huh? Prey on innocent women and keep them trapped while you take advantage of them?! Is this what you have to do to get attention?!” 

His eyes were wild and dark curls were untamed as he drilled his fists into John’s boy repeatedly. His shirt became stained with red, the same red that John’s face was now covered in. 

He looked to be completely feral.

“Pathetic. Fucking. Weasel!”

When John stopped struggling you knew you had to do something. Though the man clearly roofied you and tried to take advantage of your weakened state, you didn’t want Loki to get in trouble for murder.

“Loki,” you called out to him shakily. “Stop.”

Either he didn’t hear you or he decided not to listen, fists still hammering into John’s now unconscious body. 

“Loki, you’re gonna kill him,” You whimpered lowly. Your hope to save John, and Loki by extension, was looking worse and worse as he continued to beat the man underneath him.

“What is going on here?!” A loud voice thundered as they ran into the room.

You breathed out in relief when you saw Thor crowding the doorway, other partygoers crowding behind him watching and gasping in horror at the disturbing display of violence they were witnessing.

“Thor, please… stop him!” you pleaded weakly.

Thor immediately took action, taking hold of his younger brother and pulling him off of the bloodied and deformed body crumpled up on the bathroom floor. 

“This man doesn’t deserve to live! Release me at once!” Loki hissed at him, chest heaving and adrenaline running through his veins.

“Whatever he has done, he doesn’t deserve your attention right now. She does,” Thor insisted adamantly. “I can handle him, but she needs you, brother.”

Loki’s gaze slid to you, his blood splattered face going white and features tightening. He pulled away Thor, the other man releasing him and carefully watching as Loki made his way over to you.

He crouched down to where you sat on the floor, back against the wall, and head lolling to the side as you struggled to keep your eyes open. 

He said your name softly and you blinked slowly at him.  

“Is it alright if I take you out of here?” He asked in a gentle tone, gaze the most tender you’ve ever seen them.

You gave a slow nod, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carefully lifted you from the ground.

As he exited the small room with you in his arms, you glanced over his shoulder to see Thor, Steve, Bucky, and Sam standing over John’s mangled body, most likely discussing what they were planning to do with him.

“Are you alright?” Loki asked as he carried you down the hall, his normal velvety tone now deep and gravely. The sound providing you with more comfort than you expected it to.

You peered up at him with a small smile. “I should be asking you that.” You rasped. “I didn’t expect the night to end with you coming to my rescue. I thought you didn’t like me.”

He scoffed lightly. “My issues with you wouldn’t have stopped me from caving that bastard’s face in. He was hurting you and planning to do much worse.”

“But for me? I thought you found me pathetic… and disgusting,” you mumbled, closing your eyes.

Loki flinched, not liking to hear his own deplorable words he growled at you only hours ago repeated back to him. He was ashamed that he let his feelings of jealousy for you and Thor’s relationship cloud his vision and paint you in a bad light.

The look on your face when he said those awful things to you earlier made him realize how much of a misguided jerk he was being. 

You were right. He was an asshole and you deserved to be treated better, and he was going to treat you how you deserved from now on. 

“No, you are not those things, pet. Nothing I said was true.” He whispered, not really sure if you were conscious enough to hear him or not. 

“You are truly wonderful, and I care for you more than you could ever know.”

𝘼/𝙉: 𝙒𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙞𝙨! 𝙄 𝙚𝙣𝙟𝙤𝙮𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨. 𝙃𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙄’𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙪𝙥𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨. 𝘿𝙤𝙣’𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙖𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙬 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙞𝙣𝙗𝙤𝙭. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮’𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣 𝙤𝙪𝙩 🤷🏾‍♀️

DarkSerenity's Masterlist

✦ 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰. 𝘙𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 ;)

✦𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 ✨

[sansaorgana]

would benny be a girl dad or a boy dad?

either way I can see him getting teaching his child (let's say 5 year old) how to ride a bike because they want to be just like their dad but benny knows the dangers of a motorcycle and the heart attack it would give his wife (reader) so they just settled on a regular bike.

what about girl dad benny who's daughter has a pink bicycle with a little flower wicker basket in the front

hi! 😌 honestly, I don't know. I can imagine him as a girl dad and a boy dad equally, although I assume he didn't have a good father growing up, so being a boy dad could terrify him a little... anyway, dad!Benny is apparently something I really enjoy writing because I loved every moment of it 🥰 before someone points it out – yes, he's drinking beer & smoking cigarettes with the kid around and yes, his wife (the Reader) is the one responsible for cooking and cleaning around the house (she has a job, too) – it's the 70s, okay? 🤷🏻‍♀️

I had to close my requests for now because I got so many 🙏🏻

The garage where Benny worked as a mechanic was closed every Sunday but the store where you worked part-time was open every day of the week and sometimes they were asking you to show up on the weekends – especially when one of your co-workers was sick – but you didn’t mind it that much since they were paying more for working on Sunday. Today they wanted you for only one six hour long shift anyway so you would handle that with no problem.

In the morning, you prepared breakfast for everybody and went upstairs to change into your work clothes and to put light makeup on. When you went downstairs, Benny and Rosie were sitting on the couch together and watching cartoons. Your five years old daughter was curled up and rested her head on Benny’s chest as they both laughed at something silly.

“I’m leavin’,” you announced but they didn’t even turn around to look at you. You sighed. “I’m leavin’,” you repeated as you leaned in to give Benny a kiss on the cheek. Then you gave one to your daughter. “Don’t let her watch TV for too long,” you furrowed your brows at your husband. “I’m gonna bring dinner with me but you can make sandwiches,” you reminded him.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Benny mumbled.

“Be careful, mummy!” Rosie waved her hand at you and you waved back with a wide smile before leaving the house.

When the door behind you closed, Rosie moved even closer to her daddy as she sighed.

“Daddy?” She looked up.

“Hm?” Benny asked as he put his arm around her and caressed her back.

“But I want to watch cartoons all day long,” she pouted and Benny chuckled before looking down at her face.

“Yeah, I know, baby, but they don’t show ‘em all day long,” he pointed out.

“What are we gonna do then?” Rosie whined.

“Dunno,” Benny shrugged his arms. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” Rosie’s eyes sparkled and Benny nodded – unsurely, though. “Can I colour your tattoos?” She made puppy eyes at him.

“Yeah,” Benny sighed but with a loving smile.

Rosie clapped her hands, forgetting the cartoon on the TV immediately. She kissed Benny’s cheek and scrunched her nose at the itchy feeling of his facial hair before she jumped out of the couch but then, she froze.

“Wait, do you go to work tomorrow, daddy?” She asked, concerned. Benny nodded at that. “Well, maybe then no colouring…”

“It’s fine,” Benny chuckled. 

They had learnt already that one shower was not enough to get those marker pens out of his skin.

“I don’t mind it, baby,” he assured her and she smiled again, widely. Then she ran upstairs to her room for the set of marker pens that you had given her for her birthday.

Benny changed the channel on TV since Rosie wasn’t interested in watching cartoons anymore. He switched to some football game and went to the kitchen to grab a beer. You would usually scold him for starting so early but you weren’t home.

When he went back to the living room, Rosie was already taking out the marker pens out of the box. Benny sat down on the couch and opened the can of beer with a wink.

“Don’t tell mummy ‘bout it, huh?” He chuckled and Rosie pretended to zip her mouth. “Good girl,” he patted her head and focused on the game on TV.

Rosie sat next to him and took one of his arms to colour the tattoos. She was trying to do a good job with it and not to cross over the lines. She was so focused on that task that she stuck out her tongue a little and her brows furrowed.

“You know what tattoo is my favourite, daddy?” She asked suddenly.

Benny, who had been lost in the game, immediately focused on his daughter’s question instead.

“Which one, dollie?” He asked.

“The rose, of course!” Rosie giggled. “It’s for me!” She exclaimed proudly and picked up a pink marker pen to fill in her favourite tattoo with her favourite colour.

“Um…,” Benny looked at her, concerned, and her hand froze in the air. “Could you… Choose a different colour perhaps? I’ve told you already I don’t want no pink on me,” he reminded her and Rosie sighed.

She looked down and started to look for a different marker pen.

“Why don’t you like pink, daddy?” Rosie asked.

“It’s not that I don’t like it. But it’s for girls,” Benny explained as he took a sip of his beer. “Men don’t wear pink.”

“Elvis had a pink cadillac!” Rosie pointed out. “And you have a tattoo of a rose. It’s girly, too,” she added and picked up a green marker pen.

“Okay, alright,” Benny sighed, giving up. “Paint it pink, I don’t care,” he shrugged his arms.

“Really?” Rosie looked up with widened eyes and a big grin.

“Yeah. If someone says something, I’m gonna remind ‘em who’s the boss around,” he laughed and Rosie squealed out of happiness before changing the maker pen for the pink one again.

“You’re the best, daddy!” She hugged him before starting to colour the rose tattoo.

Benny smiled to himself and went back to watching the game on TV. Those words coming from his daughter meant more than anything else to him.

When the game was over, Benny was already covered in colourful drawings. Rosie not only had coloured his already existing tattoos but also added a few new ones – for example a ginger cat she really wanted to own. She had no idea you and Benny planned to adopt one for Christmas as a surprise.

“My second favourite tattoo is this one,” she pointed with her little finger at a heart with a ribbon on it. And on the ribbon there was your name. “The one for mummy.”

“Your favourites are my favourites, too,” Benny smiled at her and opened his arms. Rosie crawled upon his lap and hugged her daddy tight. “You hungry, baby?” He asked and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

“Nah,” Rosie shook her head and scrunched her nose. “Can we play outside?”

“Sure. What you wanna do?” Benny patted her back.

“I want you to show me on the motorbike,” Rosie looked up with a pleading look. Benny laughed at that.

“No way.”

“But daddy…” Rosie whined.

“Rose, your mother’s gonna kill me,” Benny told her.

“She won’t find out!” Rosie promised.

Benny contemplated it for a moment but eventually agreed with a sigh. Rosie left his lap and ran outside and Benny stood up and went to the garage. He opened the door first and saw Rosie already waiting on the driveway while she kept dancing around happily.

He glanced at his Harley with a hint of melancholy. It was not like he wasn’t driving it at all anymore but these days his motorbike rides were rare. Next to the Harley there was his car parked and that vehicle was simply more useful when you had a family and a kid.

His good, old Harley. Benny patted it lovingly. He was grateful to you that you had not wanted him to sell it. Even when you had been kinda broke and needed money for the house. You had told him it would be fine without selling it. You knew the importance of this motorbike for him. And you knew how much it would devastate your husband if he had to sell it.

“Come here,” Benny waved at Rosie and she ran up to him, excitedly. “You can sit on it,” he told her but her smile dropped.

“No, daddy! I want to ride it! And outside, not inside the garage!” Rosie insisted and Benny sighed.

“Do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Yeah! I’m your daughter!” Rosie pointed out with a grin. “And mummy’s, too! You’re both stubborn as a pair of mules!”

“Rosie…” Benny scolded her as he gave her an unpleasant look.

“What? That’s what you are like whenever you’re fighting!” Rosie rolled her eyes.

“Alright, alright,” Benny gave up already. “Move away now,” he told her and she took a few steps back to watch in awe as he jumped onto the motorbike and started it with an aggressive kick. He kept looking behind to make sure she wouldn’t suddenly jump ahead and get hurt.

Benny drove outside to stop on the driveway and beckoned Rosie over. She followed him, curiously.

“You have to hold me very, very tight, you hear me?” Benny explained as he was helping her to sit behind him. He already regretted his decision to agree to this madness.

“I hear you, daddy!” Rosie promised and wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I’m not gonna drive fast and we’re only gonna be riding up and down the street once. Don’t ask for more,” Benny told her.

“Okay!” She exclaimed happily.

Benny took a deep breath in and left the driveway to enter the street – slowly and carefully. He ended up driving with one hand as he kept his other one on Rosie, just in case her grip turned out to be not strong enough.

“I love it already, daddy!” He heard her giggle and that sound was like honey being poured onto his heart.

When they made one round, she asked for another and then another and another. Benny just couldn’t say no.

You left the bus with a takeout dinner still warm in the bag you were carrying. The day was nice and sunny so you weren’t hurrying to go back home. Your walk was slow and steady as you admired the trees and the sky and the sound of children playing in the background.

After a while, you furrowed your brows at the sound that was oddly familiar. No, it could not be… It could not be the sound of the engine of Benny’s motorbike, could it?!

You picked up your pace and when you finally approached your street, you froze at the sight of Benny driving his motorbike with a cigarette hanging from his lips as he was laughing. Rosie was sitting behind him and giggling while her legs were swinging in the air. You got dizzy at the sight.

Yeah, Benny was driving very slow and he was keeping one of his hands on Rosie just in case… But still, it was dangerous.

“Benjamin Cross!” You yelled and they both froze at the sight of you as their eyes widened in fear. It was nearly funny how much they looked alike at the moment – a father and daughter indeed.

Benny stopped the engine immediately and you could see his face got a shade paler. He mumbled something to Rosie and she jumped out of the motorbike before running towards you to give you a hug.

“Mummy!” She greeted you with a smile. “I made daddy show me how to ride a bike!”

“I could see that,” you smiled fakely at her and then gave Benny a deadly look. He was slowly driving back towards the house and inside the opened garage.

You took Rosie by her hand and dragged her behind you as you followed your irresponsible husband.

“Don’t be angry, mummy!” Rosie started as she felt your annoyance. “We were careful,” she assured you. “And it was not like daddy wanted to! I had to convince him!” 

You didn’t answer and just waited outside the house as Benny parked his motorbike and closed the garage door before joining you awkwardly. He was avoiding looking into your eyes.

“You been driving around with a little kid in the back, risking your lives, while the garage door was open all this time?” You asked him and he looked down.

You sighed and squeezed Rosie’s hand tighter before going inside the house. Benny put out his cigarette on the ground and followed you.

You let go of Rosie’s hand and went to the living room to be able to get inside the kitchen where you wanted to put the takeaway dinner but then you spotted a mess in the living room.

“What is that?!” You gasped at the sight of the marker pens scattered everywhere. And on the coffee table there were two empty cans of beer.

You turned around, even more angry than before. Both Benny and Rosie looked down.

“Rosie, put the marker pens inside the box and take them upstairs to your room where their place is,” you told your daughter. “And wash your hands before dinner.”

“Yes, mummy,” she sighed and rushed to do what she was told to.

To Benny, however, you didn’t speak a word. You just gave him a dirty look and went to the kitchen to unpack the dinner.

He followed you with the empty cans of beer and threw them inside the trashcan before washing his hands in the kitchen sink. They were dirty from the grease.

“You’re fucking irresponsible,” you scolded him, trying to keep your voice low.

“I am not, we were careful,” Benny tried to explain himself but you ignored him.

“And the beer… Jesus, Benny. I’ve been telling you not to drink before noon at least, yeah? You think I’m gonna tolerate you drinking that shit right after breakfast?” You shook your head.

“I don’t do that every day,” Benny reminded you and looked at you like a beaten dog.

You tried to keep an angry face on for a moment longer before finally cracking a smile and opening your arms to give him a hug.

“Benny, baby,” you kissed his cheek and caressed his hair as he wrapped his arms around you. “I nearly had a heart attack back there, seeing Rosie on that goddamn bike.”

“Sorry ‘bout that, but she kept convicin’ me and I wanted to make her happy,” he explained and you sighed. Then you smiled, noticing the colours on his tattoos.

“Just don’t do that again, please,” you pleaded as you moved away to cup his face and look into his pretty baby blue eyes. “If something happened to either of you… I’d go crazy, Benny.”

“I know,” Benny cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Rosie ran inside the kitchen that very moment and she hugged your waist.

“Mummy, don’t be angry at daddy, it’s my fault!” She tried to defend him. It was adorable. You caressed her hair.

“No, baby. Daddy’s an adult so it was his fault. But it’s okay now,” you assured her. “That won’t happen again, just so you know. No more riding a motorbike,” you told her and she pouted but didn’t try to fight you.

“Show me your hands, baby,” Benny looked down and Rosie showed him. They were still quite dirty from some marker pens and some grease. Benny chuckled at that and shook his head. “Come on, we gotta clean them better,” he picked her up to help her access the kitchen sink as she began to scrub her hands under the stream of warm water with the help of the dishwashing liquid and you focused on dividing dinner into portions.

On the next day you weren’t working and you allowed Rosie to skip kindergarten. When you were at home, there was no point in sending her there and you enjoyed spending time with your daughter. She was helping you to clean the house since you couldn’t do that on the previous day due to your shift at the store.

Around five, you were preparing the dinner with the help of Rosie while listening to the songs on the radio and singing along together when you heard Benny’s car parking on the driveway. You looked out of the window and waved at him. He waved back and Rosie squealed excitedly, leaving all the vegetables she was supposed to chop behind as she ran outside the house.

You shook your head with a chuckle and wiped your hands in your apron before walking outside as well to see Rosie jumping into her daddy’s arms. Benny hugged her and patted her back.

“I got somethin’ for ya, baby,” he told her. “Your own bike,” he added and your heart skipped a beat.

“What?” You crossed your arms and approached them two. Rosie was excitedly clapping her hands and you put your hand on her shoulder. “You being serious, Benny?”

“Just wait and see,” Benny chuckled and opened the trunk of the car before taking something out of it.

That something was a small pink bicycle with a little flower wicker basket in the front that made you gasp an oh as your heart fluttered at the sight. Rosie squealed and began to jump around out of happiness.

“Thank you, daddy, thank you, daddy, thank you!” She was repeating over and over.

Benny’s face lit up at the sight of her happiness. He opened his arms and she gave him a big hug again.

“We gotta make sure it’s good for ya, come here,” he put his hand on Rosie’s shoulder to walk her up to the bike. “Stand here,” he pointed at the ground next to the bike to adjust the height of the bike’s saddle. “Yeah, perfect,” he mumbled to himself. “I’m tired today, so I’m gonna park it right in the garage and we can try it out some other day, okay?”

“Yeah! I can wait!” Rosie nodded and then she turned around to look at you. “Mummy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Are you angry that I have my own bike?” She bit on her lower lip and you chuckled before ruffling her hair.

“No, love. It’s just a bicycle and it’s very pretty. I’m very happy that you have it and that daddy will show you how to ride it, yeah?” You bopped her on the nose and her eyes sparkled. “Benny!” You shouted after him as he was inside the garage. “We’re going back inside. Dinner’s almost ready,” you told him and you took Rosie back inside.

You finished preparing everything and you put it inside the oven before letting Rosie go to her room to play for a while before the meat and vegetables would be ready. When she was upstairs, you joined Benny on the couch. He was watching TV as usual after work and you put your arm around him to play with his hair. He hummed at your touch while the muscles of his shoulders relaxed.

“That’s so sweet of you,” you told him and took his hand into your free one. He lazily turned his head around to look at you. “The bike and everything… You’re such a good daddy,” you whispered.

“Yeah, who would have thought, huh?” He chuckled and looked down.

“That’s not what I meant,” you squeezed his hand. “But… It had to cost a lot, that bike,” you swallowed thickly.

You loved your life with Benny and your little family. You were happy but it was no secret that money was something you often struggled with. 

“It’s fine,” Benny nodded. “I promise ya.”

“Well, okay then,” you sighed and lowered your head to put it on his shoulder. Benny caressed your back and kissed the top of your head. “I love you, Benny.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart,” he answered with a smile. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You furrowed your brows.

“For everything,” Benny shrugged his arms. “For saying yes and I do, for givin’ me Rosie, for savin’ my life.”

“I didn’t save your life, Benny,” you caressed his chest gently. “You saved your life on your own when you made your decision to settle down.”

It was something you two would never agree on. Benny kept insisting you were his saviour and you wanted him to finally realise that he could be a good man on his own as well and not only because of your love and presence or because of Rosie’s existence.

But what mattered the most in the end was that you loved each other and you were happy.

MASTERLIST || BENNY MASTERLIST

[hp-hcs]

yanxidarlings here~ literally screamed when i saw you followed me because your writings were the direct inspiration for my latest post 💖 but im curious to see your take on yandere! poly! mattheo and theodore with m! reader or just more poly headcanons because i am never. going. to. get. enough. of. them

OH MY FUCKING GOD UR KIDDING I WAS THE ANON WHO REQUESTED UR LATEST POST

IM FEELING STARSTRUCK RN 🙇‍♂️👑

requests open, please dear god

Yk, reader is (lovingly) so fucking oblivious

Like, his friends will be like “hey you’re getting pretty close with like, the two most obsessive and violent guys at this school aha”

And reader will be like “lol they’re so silly goofy aren’t they 😌”

Inspired purely by your “you know people think we're gay and dating, right?” “aren't we?” I present:

“you know people think we’re gay and dating, right?” “aren’t we?” — yandere! mattheo riddle x oblivious! male! reader x yandere! theodore nott

completely unedited cause i gotta sprint to my lecture broski

TWs: possessive/obsessive behavior, brief mentions of violence, one instance of slut-shaming (?)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Honestly, you thought nothing of it when you were informed that due to “space issues” you were being moved to room with The Theos™. You just shrugged and followed the very anxious house-elf who had informed you of the switch to your new room.

Your trunk and belongings were there already, waiting to be set up and organized. Mattheo and Theo were hovering in the doorway looking a bit too pleased with the situation for comfort.

You just quietly said “hi” and moved past them, dumping your school bag on your new bed and flopping down next to it.

Theo and Mattheo practically trip over themselves rushing to “befriend” you. (Their words, not mine)

You all share a dorm, so it wasn’t long before they realized the other was obsessed with you.

Then, it’s all out war.

I’m talking mysterious falls down the moving stairs, getting locked out of the dorm all night, randomly being chased by bludgers—even when they aren’t playing.

Random fistfights between them whenever they see each other in the halls.

That all goes out the window, though, when reader is asked out.

Reader comes back to his dorm after a long day and finds The Theos sitting side-by-side on the edge of the his bed.

“When were you going to tell us that you became the class whore?” Mattheo drawled, his lips thinning in disapproval and disgust.

“W-what?” You ask, completely taken aback.

“We heard that little Y/N L/N’s got himself a date to the Yule Ball,” Theodore adds. “Who is it? That Parkinson girl? The Diggory boy?”

“Wh- no. I said no anyways.”

The boys scrutinize you, exuding an air of judgement.

Finally, Theodore pipes up. “Good boy.”

😳

“Aww, what’s this? Look, Riddle. Y/N’s blushing,” Theodore teases.

They make a quick mental note of that 📝

Anyways, they eventually find out who asked you out. They call a ceasefire on their own personal war, and team up to beat the shit out of the poor guy/girl.

After that, babycakes, if they didn’t already know before, everyone at Hogwarts now knows that you are TAKEN. (Even though you don’t.)

They tolerate each other, but just barely. They can really only stand each other when you three all curl up in one of your beds or on the common room couch.

Then, they’re the clingiest mfs you’ve ever met.

They have absolutely no sense of a personal space bubble. One of them is always touching you in some way, whether it be holding your hand, resting a hand on your hip or shoulder, putting their hand on your lower back…

Theodore charmed your chair in History of Magic to be impossible to move, so you can’t scoot away from him.

If you’re relaxing on the couch in the common room, Mattheo will move to sit right next to you (like r i g h t next to you) and put your legs in his lap. He tried once before to get you to just sit in his lap, but you told him no (like an idiot) and avoided him for the rest of the day. That is, until you woke up to him in your bed next to you.

Homeboy was not happy about that.

He is manipulative as fuck and will gaslight you to no end. He uses his shitty childhood and bad father to get you to pity him.

(It works.)

It’s obviously disconcerting for you when your boyos go from ‘actively out for each other’s blood’ to ‘eh, you’re fine, i guess’

You guys were watching a movie in your dorm one night, all piled onto your bed, and they accidentally fell asleep there. They woke to you already gone for breakfast and them with their arms around each other.

“If you ever bring this up again, I’ll kill you.”

“Oh, believe me, they’d never find your body.”

They become way more open about their attraction to you, everything from kissing your cheek, to making you wear their clothes (esp their jerseys with their last name on them), to asking you your ring size.

I completely agree with your headcanon of Mattheo neck kisses 😩🤌

Eventually though, because you are an oblivious gay disaster, you’re just chilling on the couch and you’re like “Hey guys, you know everyone thinks we’re gay right? And like, all dating each other?”

“What, like we aren’t?”

y/n: 😳🤨☺️🏳️‍🌈👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

[ellesthots]

Fateful Beginnings

XXXIV. “the affliction of pity”

parts: previous / next

plot: Bruce is forced to look in the mirror after the next morning’s antics with you.

pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x fem!reader

cw: 18+, bickering, hurt/comfort, splash of angst

words: 7k

a/n: more Alfred in this chapter !! let’s goooo !! more of a few things 😌 pretty significant chapter, might I say 💬 setting some seeds…

As you rolled over in bed the next morning, everything felt normal. Until you remembered you were in his clothes, in his house, and you’d hugged.

And the gun to your head. That too.

You checked your phone, at a measly eight percent. There were two missed calls from Dr. Crane. You sat up in a rush and called him back, worried something might have changed. He picked up on the last ring this time, a shift that caused a wash of anxiety to run through you.

“Ms. Y/N.”

“I’m sorry I missed your call.”

“As am I. How was Mr. Wayne last night?”

Shit. In the bustle of the evening, you’d forgotten. You lowered your voice. “Fine. We were able to touch base, and everything seems to be going well.” You stammered along. “I didn’t see any of the side effects you mentioned, either.”

“When will you see him again?” His tone was terse. Evidently he didn’t like when you didn’t answer.

“Today, actually.” You hoped he wouldn’t ask why. He didn’t.

“I don’t need to remind you of the stakes. I anticipate another update tonight or tomorrow.” The line clicked off. You wished you hadn’t taken the call first-thing, and struggled to shake it off as you walked down to get more Tylenol. You wondered if this much acetaminophen was good for you, but figured this much pain wasn’t, either.

Thankfully you didn’t have to dig for the Tylenol, or a glass, because they both sat at the counter beside the fridge. Your head hurt less, but your leg was positively throbbing. Bruce wasn’t in the kitchen, which you were grateful for. Last night’s memory was rapidly sinking into you with an anchor weight, particularly how you’d offset your conversation until some time this morning. You didn’t feel nearly as uninhibited now, and didn’t know if you’d be able to bring anything up.

You grabbed a protein shake and walked up the first stairwell. You held in a gasp when Alfred appeared, dressed immaculately as ever, as if he got a lovely full night’s rest. Part of you suspected he heard your shrieking cries, but he didn’t give it away if he did. “Morning, Miss. Would you like breakfast?”

You held the shake up. “I can just have this, thanks.”

“It’s no issue. I’ll be making some for myself and the boy. Come down in ten minutes.” He waved dismissively at your ‘meal’ and headed downstairs. You wondered what the hell he could make with only a few veggies, chicken, and ice cream. Maybe he had a secret butler lair with anything Rapunzel could ever want.

You turned to walk up the second set of stairs when a sleepy voice halted you. “How’d you sleep?”

You didn’t look at him, forcing your eyes to remain forward. Anxious butterflies swarmed in your stomach at the memory of him, on the brink of passing out, holding you while you sobbed. Your throat tightened, shy. “Fine.”

“Want to talk while Alfred cooks?”

You didn’t, but that gave you a time constraint. Alfred would save you from whatever awkward, embarrassing territory you and him might venture into. You still didn’t face him. “Okay.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Where is there?”

“The study, your room, mine. Anywhere.”

Your cheeks reddened at how genuine he still seemed. You’d fully expected him to act like last night never happened. You didn’t want to go in either of the bedrooms, and you eyed the old man’s study just up the stairs. You gestured to it, and heard him follow close behind.

The room was exactly as you remembered it; a thick wood table with a seat behind and in front. There was a decent-sized rug by a fireplace with some newspapers scattered around it. You cringed thinking about sitting across from him so officially, so you went to sit on the floor. He followed your lead, sitting a few feet away, closest to the papers. You fiddled with the unopened drink in your hand, moving its weight from palm to palm.

“How’s your pain?”

You sighed, an embarrassed grin exploiting your cheeks. “An attentive host.”

He waited, and you glanced up at him for the first time since you’d hugged. He had the same pants, and a different shirt. You inhaled so quickly you almost coughed. “I’m sorry about last night,”

“Don’t be.”

“I’m serious. It was weird and awkward of me,”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You shook your head loosely, biting your lip. His eyes focused there a moment before flitting down.

“I want to help.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, tears beginning to well. You were frustrated and self-conscious of how much strain you’d put on him. “You’ve been nothing but helpful.”

Bruce was quiet, watching you try to force back tears and channel your energy into one of his protein shakes. He didn’t know how helpful he’d be perceived when, after breakfast, he’d have to have another talk with you, essentially demanding that you’re never seen in the city again. He pondered how manipulative it was not to disclose that prior to asking you to open up, which clammed him from speaking.

The room felt staticky, like if you reached into the air, the tip of your fingers might spark. You figured he was being quiet so you had space to speak. The skeptical part of you wanted to tie your lips closed, ranting about how he didn’t want to give this to you, he felt he had to. The sensitive side yearned for someone to hear your pain, and he was being persistent about it. It was blood-curdlingly difficult, but you took the first step—chucking the words out of you while forcing your anxieties to the back.

“I’m just lonely.” You stared down at your hands, setting down the drink so you could wring them. “I thought coming here for school would give me community.” Your voice was shaky but you tried not to think about it, throwing the words out as quickly as they formed. “It made it all worse. I had this fantasy that the size of the city would energize me, but it’s just spitting me out.” Tears sprung to your eyes, forcing you to pause, rubbing your eyes hard. “Sorry.”

He could feel the desolation oozing off of you. Every time you apologized made him more indignant. “I’m not judging.” You glanced at him as you removed your hands from accosting your delicate corneas, and he nodded for you to continue.

The combination of his attentive presence and kind reassurance made the tears pass the floodgates. The words were coming quicker now, less inhibited. “Being home isn’t fun either, my mom’s cancer is just, they don’t want to talk about it.” Frustration bled. “They’re acting like everything is fine, like nothing is different. I don’t like being around them and I hate being away.” Your throat was constricting as you held back full-bodied sobs.

Anger was beginning to creep in, your face contorting into a glare. You still weren’t looking at him, looking off to the side, unfocused. “I had this friend group back home but they don’t give a shit about me. I don’t know if they ever did. I have Mar here, but she just parties all the time, and she didn’t even, she didn’t even ask how I was before she left yesterday.” You could hardly believe it hadn’t been twenty four hours yet. You could hardly believe how whiny you were acting.

The devastation and anger was riling you up, making the words spill out before you even comprehended them. “And I fucking hate that I’m even saying all of this right now. The gun, the fucking, the interview, you breaking down in that fucking alley wouldn’t have even happened if I weren’t meddling!” You were beginning to pant.

“Hey,”

You didn’t hear him, and started shaking, breathing so fast you could hyperventilate. Your thighs were starting to become a receptacle for your tears. “I thought he was gonna kill me, I’ve never seen a gun that close; I yelled at you and, kicked you out and, and, you’re tied up and,”

His hand on your knee made you shriek, slapping your palms to your cheeks as you folded over, wailing. “Everyone’s gonna die, everyone around me,” you gasped between every word, which rapidly devolved into trying to catch your breath in painful puffs.

He was melting like butter. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,”

“Look at me.”

You wanted to say no, but you didn’t want to further inconvenience him. Meeting his concentrated gaze filled you with cavernous shame, your eyes stuttering down to his chin in subtle avoidance.

“Stop apologizing.”

Another lump jumped to your throat.

“Can I hug you?”

You nodded, relief pooling in your stomach at his request. You wanted another hug from him even if you weren’t losing your mind. “Please.”

This was foreign to him, but it was the only thing he could think to do. He wrapped his arms around you again, and it felt just as desperate, just as necessary, even for him. You didn’t cry as much as when he hugged you the night before, seemingly getting a lot of it out beforehand, and he struggled not to stiffen when your breathing began to even out, and your sniffles waned. Quickly. Very quickly. Your shaking slowed until the only movement was your breathing. That ‘please’ stuck to him like velcro.

It was extremely disorienting. He’d experienced people clinging to him in the suit, looking at the cowl with a frantic desire to be soothed, but never just as him. Not once. He didn’t know he could calm someone like this as Bruce.

You pulled out of the hug and sniffed, getting up to leave. You almost apologized. “I need to blow my nose.”

Alone in the study, he was worried he’d panic. The way you’d said it, it seemed not like you’d wanted a hug, but that you’d wanted a hug from him. ‘Please’ like you’d wanted one already but wouldn’t ask. ‘Please’ with your eyebrows knitting with neediness, ‘please’ cutting through the tears and shame even when his words didn’t make a dent.

He sat in a haze of dismay as disappointment crowded him at your departure. This wasn’t good.

He stood up to leave, mentally rehearsing a ‘need to shower before breakfast’ shout as he walked past the hallway bath, but you’d already come back.

Both of you wanted to hug again, but neither said so.

“Setting the table.” Alfred’s voice floated from downstairs. It almost sounded like he was whistling.

Bruce walked past, but you caught his elbow. “Thanks.”

Your lashes were still clumped together from crying. Your eyes were puffy and red. His hand twitched to wipe the tears still lingering on your cheekbone, but he cringed instead. “Don’t thank me.” He hurried down the stairs and hastily shut the door to his room.

Doing your best to ignore the tinge of frustration coating his tone, you met Alfred in the kitchen. The scent of a fresh omelet wafted from the stove out to the foyer. He had three table settings in the same fashion as last time, and you sat at your place with your hands tucked in your lap. Alfred was whistling, a jazzy sort of tune, as he scooped up the first one and walked toward you. “Same ingredients as your last visit. No peaches.”

Visit. What a kind way to dress it up. You thanked him as you took the plate, suddenly struck by a hazy memory of Bruce tilting your chin up to drink Benadryl. You swore you could feel his finger there now. You swallowed.

You weren’t in love with eggs by any means, but Alfred made them look salivating. It was plated to perfection, intimidating you nearly into not wanting to eat it. When he walked over with a pitcher of orange juice, you wondered where they’d come from—until you noticed an empty bag of orange netting sitting across the kitchen in the pantry. A few rinds were discarded near the stove, and you hurried to pour some for yourself. Bruce was woken up every morning with fresh squeezed juice? Or at least had the option?

The coolness of the juice was everything you needed, a balm to your hot throat. A satisfied chuckle came from the stove as you reached to pour a second glass. “Sumo citrus. Out of season, but still quite stunning.”

“I’ll drink you out of house and home.”

Alfred finished dishing up, and pulled out his chair before frowning. You followed his eyes to Bruce’s empty seat. After the short pause, he wiped his hands. “Ah, well. We’ll get started without him.” His cheery demeanor was infiltrated by a short grimace, undoubtedly perturbed by Bruce’s absence. “If you fancy any salt, pepper, let me know.”

He’d seasoned it spectacularly, and you told him so after your first few bites. Your stomach felt like an empty pit, realizing you hadn’t eaten more than the odd granola bar in days. You finished quickly, leaving little space for conversation, and he gestured to the stove. “Would you like more? I made an extra.”

You nodded, and he took your plate with a wink. “Finally I have someone who enjoys my cooking.”

“It’s stellar, really.” You eyed the orange juice, now with only a third of the pitcher remaining. You ate the second omelet, surprisingly just as warm as the first. Alfred had just finished his, taking a sip of his juice.

“Thank you. I needed that.” Your eyes trailed across the table to the glaringly empty seat, feeling dejected. He probably hadn’t come because you’d been too much, gone too far. Not only had you pushed the boundaries, you’d obliterated them. Why had you agreed to hug him again? Why had you let yourself lose control in front of him, again?

You’d forgotten how perceptive his butler was, too. He set his utensils in the middle of the plate, untucking his napkin from his lap. “I apologize for his behavior, Miss. It’s truly abhorrent.”

You shook your head so fast you saw stars. “No, it’s fine. He’s had a long day, and night,”

“So have you.” He gathered both of your plates and disposed of them in the sink. He rested his hip against the counter, tucking one hand into his pant pocket, the other grabbing the cane resting nearby. He sighed. “Feel free to have the rest of the juice, a shame for it to go to waste.”

He looked tired. Not as tired as the last time you came, but nonetheless. You obliged, already feeling the pressure on your bladder. You must’ve had half a gallon of this stuff.

Alfred’s head cocked toward the foyer. Bruce appeared not a moment later, his expression distant and cold. He slid into his seat and dug in without comment, not looking at either of you.

You set your glass down, your stomach flipping. You had half a mind he had simply taken too long in the shower, and tried his best to hurry, but no. In the same outfit, same dry hair, like he’d just been ignoring you.

Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Alfred glance up to the ceiling before tossing a dish rag over his shoulder, getting to work at the sink. You stood to join him, but he waved you off. “Appreciate it, Miss; you need to recuperate. I’ll manage.”

You stood there between the table and the sink, the already dim energy in the room withering further with every second Bruce remained unspeaking. You blinked a few times, unnerved and upset, walking quickly out of the room. You ducked around the corner, hoping they thought you gone. A few moments later, Alfred spoke.

“Bruce.”

“Don’t want to hear it.” They were both speaking hushedly, though Bruce was admittedly not trying as hard to muddle his volume.

Alfred’s tone was the coldest you’d ever heard it. “I’ve never been more embarrassed.”

Bruce didn’t respond, only scraped the fork against the plate as he likely hurried his meal.

“She’s been in a terrible situation,”

“I said I don’t want to hear it.” His tone was back to that very first night; back to the hallway at City Hall when you’d blackmailed him. That same haughty, defensive, biting timbre.

“I’m telling you regardless.” The sink stopped. “I fear you’ve become too desensitized for your own good.”

More scraping.

Alfred sighed, his tone gentling. “I know the last week has been difficult,”

Bruce pushed his seat out. “Going to talk to her.”

You tiptoed further into the corner, cloaking yourself in shadow.

“What about?”

“Getting her to leave.”

You’d never before heard Alfred scoff, but now you had. It was freakily uncharacteristic. “You’re better than that, Bruce. Do not.”

“Or what?” Bruce’s tone was mocking, the chair making a final thud into the table. You bit your cheek to abate the rising anxiety. Of course he wanted you gone. Of course you were nothing more than a nuisance. Rage nipped at your skin thinking about how he’d led you on, thinking that he might have cared.

Before Alfred could reply, Bruce emerged into the foyer, and immediately caught on to your presence. You glared at him, feeling tears smart your lashline again. His face fell with his shoulders and you huffed past him. “Y/N,”

“I’m grabbing my phone and you’re taking me home.” You were already halfway up the stairs, but he was catching up.

“Stop,”

You pressed on, breaking into a run up the second set.

He grabbed your wrist and you yanked it back, barely catching your balance. You whipped around, chest heaving, eyes wild. “Sorry for overstaying my welcome.”

You spun around and ran to your room, trying to slam the door but his foot stopped it. Tears streamed down your cheeks in silent fury. You grabbed your dress, shoes, and phone. “I won’t bother you at City Hall, don’t worry.”

“It’s for your safety.” His stepping into the room crowded it. He sounded exasperated. “You need to leave Gotham. Immediately.”

“You don’t get to boss me around.”

He scoffed. “Less than a week and you’ve already been threatened.”

“And he’s in jail whether I leave or not.” No longer giving a shit, you shimmied off the sweats and yanked off his shirt, leaving you in your bra and underwear. He averted his eyes and stared at the wall, audibly scowling. You threw them at him and they hit his shoulder. You wrangled your dress back on, still damp and awfully smelly. You sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on your loafers.

“It could happen again. You’re a target now.”

“I’m not leaving.”

He side-eyed you, checking if you were clothed. He loathed that he knew the color of your underwear now. “And I’m not cleaning you off the sidewalk.”

“Bruce Wayne would never have to do such custodial work.” Your tone was dripping in sarcasm and mockery, forcing him to grit his teeth. You were riling him up, you both knew it. You were riling each other, teetering on the precipice of words better left unsaid.

He stepped fully into the room, shutting the door behind him. You glared at it. “You were going to leave last week.”

You finished fighting with the heel of your shoe, finally able to rush past him. He stepped in front of the door and your heart lurched into your mouth, eyes flashing. “You are not blocking me.”

He hesitated before stepping aside. When you put your hand on the doorknob he did too. “If this is because of last Thursday,”

“You don’t want it, I get it.” You jerked the door open, the phone falling out of your hand. You both stooped to reach it at the same time, your hands colliding once more. His hand tightened atop yours, forcing you to look at him. You ripped the phone away and swung the door open, leaving into the hall. He followed you out, draining the last bit of resolve you had.

“Is it a sin to make sure you’re alright?” You bit back the last half of what you wanted to say: ‘I already see how Alfred’s being punished for it’.

Bruce glared at you. “I don’t need babysitting.”

“It’s not just you.”

“None of it should be.”

“I wanna see where this election goes.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

You bristled, hard. “I do. I want to report on it.”

He rolled his eyes. “You expect me to believe that? In a city you hate?”

“I hate the culture. Which I could influence.” You made the mistake of wincing down toward your thigh, and he stepped closer.

“I want to help you.”

You glowered at him, unappreciative of his indecisiveness. Did he want to help you, or hide away in his room to try and forget you existed? “Would’ve been helpful to show up to breakfast.”

Bruce groaned. You had a physical reaction to the sound.

You hated it more than most things, more than you hated humid hundred degree days and men catcalling—but even when he was angry, and distant, and weird, you wanted to stay in his orbit. You needed to, or Dr. Crane would have your head… and maybe his. “I’m the only one outside of this place who knows. I can be a tool.”

“I have enough tools.” He hated the piece of him that wanted to give in. He hated how his voice lost its edge the closer you got to the stairs.

You were also excruciatingly aware of how close you were to the exit, and how much you didn’t want to take it. Squeezing your eyes shut and imagining the Bruce that cried into your palm was the only way to cool your temper. His hugs lingered not too far behind… if they were even real. The only thing that actually moved the words past your teeth was remembering how deeply you regretted being cold to him at your apartment. “I want you to have someone to go to. And I want someone to go to.”

Your candor surprised both of you.

“It’s not worth throwing your life away.”

The wear of this argument wasn’t sitting right in your chest, and it forced your expectations lower. You shifted quickly back to the matter at hand. “I’m staying in Gotham, at least for now, whether you want to acknowledge me or not.” You didn’t need to be on good terms to keep an eye on him. He’d still come to City Hall meetings, and you’d be able to give some updates to Dr. Crane until he was out of the woods. It would only be a few more weeks. And you would enjoy getting to hear the city’s voice, trying your hand with more interviews.

You turned and set off downstairs. “What’ll it be this time? Packing me in the trunk?”

He barely registered what you said, his eyes fixed on your back as you descended the steps. ‘I’m just lonely’.

He grabbed his keys and walked to the garage with you, instructing you to lie flat again. “I’ll drop you off a few blocks away.”

Staring at the black ceiling of Bruce’s car while you bumped through back alleys and cobbled streets was, to put it lightly, depressing. You were starting to get used to the pain, utilizing it to distract from your whiplash disappointment and deep-seeded fear about being home alone tonight. At some point you must have closed your eyes and been lulled asleep, because his voice startled you into sitting up.

“Just a few blocks south. Closest I could get.”

When he noticed you’d fallen asleep, he drove around a few more miles so you wouldn’t be disturbed. He only started winding back in the direction of your apartment when he heard you begin to whimper. His hands had tightened on the wheel, his teeth gritting, as they so often did around you. He thought he’d mastered letting Alfred’s disappointment seep like guilt through his skin, but he couldn’t stop the thought he might be misrepresenting you.

Selfishly, he’d been centering himself in your distress, when in actuality… your life was bigger than that. You had parents to worry about. Friends to be disappointed with. A burgeoning journalism career to dive into, to which the corners of the internet were behaving like piranhas. A gun to your head, and an empty apartment in a city that genuinely seemed hell-bent on hurting you. Spitting you out, as you so eloquently put it.

Maybe he was pitying you, now.

The Moore was not-so-conveniently located on one of the main streets of town, forcing him back into a side alley between an old pharmacy and a deli that wasn’t open half the time. In the early days he’d stow the Batmobile here. The brick hadn’t changed much, a few new potholes. Wasn’t frequented enough to be as decimated as the roadway. He parked here when he’d visited you those few times.

He woke you, and while you roused, pulled your recorder and notebook out of the passenger glovebox. He’d circled back to Miller’s car on the way to your friend’s before the police got to it. He just hoped you didn’t make too big a deal out of his remembering.

Thankfully, you didn’t. You looked a bit surprised, but took it without comment. You looked disheveled, tired, pained. The passenger door swung open after he told you which direction to walk.

“Can your friend stay with you?”

You’d nearly shut the door on him before he spoke. Too tired to lead with irritation, you gave him a lackluster response. “It’s Friday. She’ll be out clubbing.”

You hesitated before shutting the door, wanting to thank him, but too hurt to commit. You fought not to think about how his laser eyes were focused on your back as you walked away. Struggled not to recall the weight of him.

Walking around Gotham in midday was like walking around an entirely different environment. Late morning to mid-afternoon was the only time kids were seen, and only with older siblings or adult family members. You couldn’t imagine growing up here. How it might harden a person.

It was a massive triumph pushing open your apartment door while holding a feeling bordering on terror that someone was waiting to jump you. You rushed in and shut the door like when you’d watched something scary as a kid. When the anxiety got too high, and you were positively certain a demon was rushing behind you to beat you to your bed.

In a blink you’d shoved a chair under the handle. Once in your room you walked its perimeter, checking all corners of the bath, under the bed, and resigned to shoving the couch in front of the door. A hazard if there was an emergency, but you couldn’t prioritize anything else right now.

You went to get water at the sink, feeling like a paranoid freak inspecting the jenga at your entryway. Once a-fucking-gain your thoughts wandered to the city’s prince; how silly did he think you? All this over one gun? I take fifty billion a night. A dark streak of violence ran through him, one that wasn’t evident in his arms, or gazing into his sleepy puppy eyes… You slammed the rest of the water, almost choking on it.

If you thought too long, you would break down, so you drew up an imaginary list of tasks to keep yourself tethered, trying to ignore how the water was beginning to sour the more you smelled the city’s backwash on your clothes. First: shower. Second: nap.

It was a Herculean effort not pressing DOWN when the elevator doors opened. Alfred was sitting across from it in the kitchen, his hands clasped together on the table. His gaze was focused precisely at eye-level, like he’d been a statue primed for Bruce’s arrival. “I want to talk with you.”

He looked at the ground, stepping out. “I’m going upstairs.”

“No, Bruce.” His tone was deadly serious, with a shaky undercurrent. Bruce conceded, as he so often did once Alfred got to this point. He didn’t come closer, only stepping out enough for the elevator doors to close, making up the difference by stepping to the side.

“I’m disappointed in you. Deeply.”

Bruce stared at the ground. He figured he’d have something to say to him about your leaving, like he had any idea what he was talking about.

Seemingly sensing his frustration, Alfred’s tone softened. “Seems to me you both could use a friend.”

“Look where it got you.” With a shrug of his shoulder, he gestured to where Alfred was sitting. It was evident by the way Alfred’s face fell, and his strict tone, he was referring to Riddler’s blowing up the top of Wayne Tower.

He didn’t miss a beat with his curt response. “Look at where it’s gotten you.”

Bruce slowly glanced up, struggling to see the full features of his face in the unlit kitchen, but still managed to meet his eye, sensing plenty more where that came from.

“Dory and I are getting older. If you keep following this path,”

“Alfred, stop.”

“I’m afraid you’ll end up entirely alone.”

The room’s ensuing silence chewed at that word, alone. Bruce wondered how he could slip past the man without escalating things. He knew he wouldn’t be let off without responding. He knew these situations all too well. “So I should risk someone’s life, for what? Temporary company?

“People come and go, that’s how life works.”

Bruce stepped forward, trying to work up the courage to storm past. The fuel wasn’t entirely there yet. “I’m not speeding up the process.” No matter how many times he explained this to him, he never got it. He never understood he was doing what he had to do, and that—

“The least you can do is be kind to her.”

Alfred was slipping under his skin again. “I am.”

The butler’s voice raised slightly. “By leaving her alone?”

“It’s for her safety.” He took another step, tempting a getaway.

“Or for yours?”

Bruce blinked hard. The old man never failed to tie a rocket to his shoes, and he propelled himself across the kitchen and nearly made it halfway before he spoke again.

“Don’t think I forgot what you said that night.” Alfred shifted in his seat, the boy now a few feet closer. He knew he was losing him, his hairpin trigger temper always half pressed when he spoke. Sometimes he felt like Bruce was waiting for him to give up with his fingers crossed behind his back.

“Year after year you’ve denied my every demand for your safety. Every time you’ve struck it down, as if each night you’re out planting flowers.”

Bruce looked everywhere but the table’s vicinity. “I don’t know what point you think you’re making.” He cloaked his words in as much snarl as he could, hoping he would get the hint and stop where he stood, before stuffing the air with more life lessons.

“Yet, after my accident, I noticed you changed the suit. You began coming home earlier.” Alfred stood up, and Bruce stepped back. He leaned on the cane, taking off his glasses with the other hand. “You know what you do is dangerous.”

He let out a brittle, taunting laugh. “That’s what I‘m saying.” Maybe he was finally getting the point. Maybe he would finally stop wasting his time and keep his projective, sentimental thoughts to himself instead of dragging them both down with it.

“Not in that way, Bruce.”

Sometimes Bruce wished Alfred could read his mind, hear all the things he wanted to say but kept hidden. Right now it was a lot of grumbles, some pointed accusations, but nothing unfurled on his tongue. Instead, his body reacted, quickening his heartbeat and narrowing his eyes.

“I think it goes both ways.” Alfred set his glasses on the table. “I believe you’re afraid if you let someone close, you’ll put them in the same position you once were.”

Heat bloomed in Bruce’s throat, and he tried to storm out of the room and escape the clouds weighing down the ceiling, but Alfred tossed another hook into his arm near the doorframe.

“And if you were honest with yourself, truly faced what you endure each and every night, it would feel like looking down the barrel all over again.”

Bruce could’ve screamed. He wanted to. He could’ve done a lot of things, but his mind was fuzzy. All his tired body did was tremble. All his mouth did was bite his cheek. Say the most benign version of the dialogue swarming inside. “You don’t know what I think.” As soon as he said it, he knew it was a bluff. He felt the tips of his fingers go cold.

“It’s far easier to disregard your life when you have no one to answer to.”

“I’m answering to you, aren’t I?”

Alfred paused, his voice lowering and slowing. “I often think you wish you didn’t have to.”

He locked eyes with him in an instant, Bruce having a visceral reaction to what he was insinuating. Did Alfred really think he didn’t care about him? Was his behavior being represented that poorly? His body filled with blue and purple emotions, his stomach tightening, face heating. The bruise fronted as defiance. “I’m doing what I need to. I—”

Alfred’s voice was bored, frayed. “‘Have a duty’. Yes, boy.”

Bruce bristled, hard, and visibly so. Alfred caught it, and felt a desire to rescue him, looking decidedly dejected. After the last week, however, he knew he couldn’t let things slide as he used to. The path he was on was destructive, and walking away wasn’t going to change anything. “You also have a duty to yourself.”

Bruce shook his head, his vision blurring slightly. “I don’t care about that.”

Alfred hesitated to go this route usually, and reserved it only for occasions supremely deserving—this was one of those times, though he was concerned how it would go over. Bruce was standing a few feet from him, between the fridge and the kitchen’s entry, his eyes darting across the ground like his head was swarming with thoughts. “Your parents would want you to be happy. Are you happy?”

As expected, Bruce responded with silence. Silence that cut Alfred’s heart in two. He knew he wasn’t. He hadn’t seen a genuine smile from him, or a full-bellied laugh for that matter, in decades. It might have even been since that night. The boy held so much pain, and kept so isolated. He gulped back tears.

“What I’m doing is more important than that.”

Against his better judgment, he folded. Bruce never liked to see him cry, going stiff and static. He didn’t do it often, but worried about burdening the boy so soon. So he sighed, shifting the subject. “If you don’t check on Y/N tonight, I will.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and set it near his glasses, moving his hand up to massage his temple.

“She doesn’t want pity.”

He held back another sigh, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “Care and pity are not the same, Bruce.”

Alfred left first, not wanting to chance the boy’s tender conscience with any more guilt at having left preemptively. It wasn’t unusual for these conversations to end with Bruce coming into his room later that night with a thinly veiled olive branch.

Once in the confines of his room, Bruce nearly missed the edge of the bed, fighting off disorienting swells of emotion that left no energy for proprioception. Possibly more than he ever had, he wanted to curse Alfred out. Run into his study and tell him he had no idea what he was talking about. But his body was telling him otherwise. Telling him he was right. He was isolating. It was obscenely dangerous. He didn’t want to look at it.

Care versus pity. Every face from his childhood stuck to the back of his retinas. The pouting, downturned faces at the funeral. The ‘gentle’, rather condescending tone that echoed off the tower walls for years, until people stopped caring. Until he stopped trying. Until he stopped visiting his parent’s room and bolted the lock.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight and clenched his core, subtly rocking back and forth, juxtaposing the two scenes, a task which felt like drowning—whatever happened last night and this morning, and absolutely everything he’d ever experienced from everyone else.

One felt warm. Uncomfortably so, but nevertheless comforting. The other was distant, and cold.

He tried to avoid it again, unclenching his stomach and stripping as he walked toward his bathroom. He turned the shower to scalding, and stepped in, hoping it would soothe his aching muscles to sleep, maybe beam Alfred’s confrontation out of his brain.

One felt like a balm, or a salve. The other felt like it carved him out deeper, eviscerating his insides. One told him it would be okay, and the other said he’d never be the same again. Their eyes gutted him. Told him his parents were gone, slaughtered, murdered. He ran some shampoo through his hair.

He lathered his body while it sat, feeling every pass over scar and scab. He loathed being in his body. Being aware of the injuries painting his skin. The drain in his bones. He was usually adept at avoiding it. Grinding until he passed out the instant his head hit the pillow. Sleeping in until it was time to suit up. Time to plan. To think about anyone else’s problems besides his own.

A bubble of soap slipped in his eye, and he flinched.

He suddenly felt like crying.

Pulling on your own sweatpants and a baggy hoodie was a luxury as you prepped to visit Rai’s. Frustrated at your screaming stomach that wouldn’t let you simply sleep the rest of your life away, you popped a small-dose edible so it would kick in after you’d come back and finished eating, letting you have a semblance of peace the rest of the evening. At the very least it would lower the risk of you screaming into your pillow all night.

Same walk, same street, same people, same sky. The constant ebbs of injury had colored you blue. A leaf startled you on its crunch, the sudden movement and barely-tempered shout causing the parents and children to slink away from you on the sidewalk. You kept your head down the rest of the route.

Rai was helping another customer when you arrived, but he gave you a small wave. You never liked to crowd people, especially the older customers that came in who lived in the historic buildings nearby. They treated Rai’s like a full-on grocery, sometimes bringing their own cart to fill. This lady, with her wispy gray hair and thick red sweater was one of those patrons.

You pulled a sweet tea from the drinks, and an orange soda. Rai was chattering away with the lady, who had ostensibly selected one of everything in the store. You reveled in having less time to spend in your apartment, and wandered to the chip aisle while you waited for your turn at the counter. Your fingers traipsed through rows of Ruffles and Lays, when you felt a buzz in your pocket.

Alfred.

Jesus, fuck. You raced to set the drinks down, your heart pounding. You’d left him in another state again. Too harsh, too unforgiving, fuck! “Hello? Alfred?”

“Hey.”

Bruce answered, and a concoction of relief and bitterness settled on you like a blanket of snow. “Hey…?” Your fingers tightened around the phone.

“I was wondering,” he drew a sharp intake of breath. “If you wanted to watch a movie or something.”

Shit, how out of sorts was he? “Like tonight?”

“Like tonight. I could go to your place, or,”

“Mine’s fine. I’ll bring the TV by the couch.” You were buzzing. You couldn’t very well decline, or what might he get up to? Was this his way of asking for help? You also couldn’t very well ignore the twinge of relief that having company would bring, even if it was his. Or the single atom in your body that preferred it to be him.

“Want me to bring anything?”

Your eyes flickered to the deli. “I’m good.”

“Half an hour work?”

“Yeah. See you then.”

Bruce hung up, heaving a deep breath. He flopped onto his back on his bed, Alfred’s phone falling out of his hand near his pillow. He felt better now. And worse. A little bit of everything.

What does someone wear to watch a movie?

After a few minutes he strolled to his closet, and thumbed a hole in his only clean pair of jeans. Hmm.

Dior. Prada. The sound of metal hangers sliding on a metal rod. Gucci. Dolce & Gabbana. He eyed the black jeans again, and the matching pair of trodden Converse in the corner. He pulled them on and grabbed the least distressed tee from his dresser… they were all worn thin.

It didn’t matter. Did it? No.

He grabbed his keys and headed for the basement. He’d have to leave through Wayne Terminal, take the beater car, drift. He passed Alfred on the stairs, noting the fresh outfit and shoes. “Going out?”

Bruce nodded, not saying anything until he turned into the kitchen and was fully out of view. “Checking on her.”

Alfred grinned with the sound of the elevator’s descent.

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Being Inarizaki’s Manager

Miss Manager is Shy and Cute 🥹

Inarizaki x shy and cute! Female manager (she/her pronoun)

Warnings: Atsumu starts off as a butthole but we reform him, fluff

A/N: I wrote a headcanon set earlier with a shy reader and well, now I think I’m a shy reader expect 💅 so here’s one of my favs with a shy manager 😌

Oof- you good, girl?

Seriously this team is like the opposite of shy and calm

I wouldn’t say they are Karasuno level but they get HYPED

Now, many of them had given up the dream of ever having a female manager

They were prepared to brave it alone (namely Kita, Aran, Omimi, Akashi, Suna, Ginjima, etc)

They knew what their problem was…

Well PROBLEMS

Atsumu and Osamu

But it’s fine because they were efficient 💅

Kita did everything and well, Kita did everything

But that all changed when one day our precious Angel, Riseki, met someone new 👀

You see, you were the new girl in school

A curse honestly

Being the new kid is never easy, trying to find friends or fit in with everyone is so hard

And to top it off, you were ridiculously shy and a wallflower

It’s not that you didn’t want to make friends but your shy, cute nature made it difficult

When you first joined Riseki’s class, he thought you were rather cute

You kept to yourself, didn’t bother anyone

You were smart and capable

And most importantly, you had absolutely NO CLUE who the Miya twins were 😌

Riseki had watched you a few times, and you showed a lot of promise

You seemed to be able to ignore all the Miya chat surrounding you

You didn’t seem bothered by the fan girls

And most importantly, when a Miya fight would break out, you’d simply ✨ignore ✨ it

The problem was that Riseki knew you were shy

You’d never speak up in class, you barely talked to anyone

But he also knew this was his opportunity

So what does he do? Well he confides in Kita

“Hey Kita, so I think I might have found us a potential manager?”

Kita 👉🏻😐😑 *not convinced or optimistic whatsoever*

“Is this person a teenage girl?” Kita asks in return

“Yes but-”

Kita 👉🏻 No 🫶🏻🥰

“Here me out tho, she’s a transfer student and I’ve been keeping an eye on her,” Riseki says

Kita 👉🏻🤨 creepy but ight-

“She has shown zero reaction to the Miyas at all! Like none, not even a second glance!” He says

Kita 👉🏻 tell me more…

Riseki goes on to explain more about you and Kita agrees to give you a small trial run

Ok now that Kita is convinced, all Riseki needs to do is ask you

Simple right?

“Hey Yn!” He yells as you freeze

You rn 👉🏻😐😳

Please you are looking around like “is he talking to me? Am I Yn?”

“Hey I was wondering if you had a club yet?” He asked as you just stared 👁️👄👁️

Please Yn, function

Riseki realizes that he probably came in way too strong, so he backs up a bit

“Umm I’m sorry to come at you so strong but I was wondering if you needed a club? The boys volleyball team is looking for a manager and I think you’d be perfect,” he says as your eyes widen even more

Please blink before your eyes dry up

“Ohh umm I don’t think I umm- I’m not sure I’d be good- I don’t play volleyball or know anything really,” you say as you blush heavily

Riseki is DYING at how cute you are 😭

“It’s ok Yn! I can teach you everything and the guys, wellmostoftheguys, are super helpful!” He says as you ponder for a bit

Maybe this is just what you need? You never take chances like this and maybe now is the time to start branching out

“Umm I guess I can try,” you say, a tiny smile lighting up your face as Riseki dies inside 😭

After school, he brings you to practice

The gym is huge and all the guys in it are huge as well

You start to second guess your decision

Maybe you aren’t cut out to be social, yeah maybe you’ll just be shy forever

Suddenly you are forced out of you thoughts when you are approached by four guys

You quickly take refuge behind Riseki and peer out from behind him as the boys all smile at you

“Kita, Aran, Omimi, Akagi- this is Yn! Yn these are our third years!” Riseki says as you blush hard and peek out from behind him

“Umm hello, I’m YN from class 1-4. It’s very n-nice to meet y-you,” you stutter out as the third years practically perish

How the heck are you so freaking cute?? 😭

“It’s nice to meet you YN, I’m Kita, the captain. Thank you so much for coming to meet with us,” Kita says, already impressed that you aren’t making waves or causing any disruptions

“T-thank you for having me,” you say as you stand next to Riseki now, a little more confident

“So Yn, do you know anything about volleyball?” Aran asks as you shake your head

“Not really but I’m a pretty fast learner,” you say as the boys all nod

Suddenly, a rouge ball comes flying out of nowhere as you quickly take cover as Akagi stops it from hitting you

“Are you ok Yn?” Kita asks as you nod

“I’m fine thank you,” you say before being approached by a boy with a yellowish blonde hair color

“Hey girls aren’t allowed in the gym!” He shouts as you reeled back a bit

Who was this extremely rude person?

“Shut up ya idiot! Obviously she’s talking to the captain!” A silver toned man says

“Yeah well I don’t need to be interrupted by any squealing pigs during my serves so get out of here!” He shouts at you as you quietly back up

“ATSUMU! Knock it off, stop being so rude! This isn’t one of your fan girls, this is Yn and she’s going to be our trial manager!” Kita scolds the yellowish blonde as he scoffs

“This? This is going to be our manager? She’s tiny and looks like she’s afraid of her own shadow! How is she going to ever be a manager for a powerhouse?” Atsumu says as you whince a little

Man he was a jerk ����

“Damn Sumu, you’re being a jerk! Leave the poor girl alone,” a tall black haired man says

“Suna’s right! She didn’t do anything to you,” Omimi says as Atsumu stares at you

“She’s literally taking up space! Like how is she going to even be helpful?” Atsumu says as you finally lose it

“Excuse me,” you say, a little anger and agitation now clear on your voice

Everyone 👉🏻👀

“Yes, I maybe a little shy and skittish at times but it’s extremely rude of you to judge someone you haven’t even been introduced to,” you say as the men all look at you

Kita is like mentally taking notes

Suna has his phone out and recording 📱

Riseki is like “who is this?”

“My name is Yn and I’m a first year. I might not be the best but I’m smart and I learn quickly. If I interrupted your practice, I apologize but I won’t stand here and be treated with disrespect,” you say as you bow and take your leave

Honestly Queen shit 👑

Oohhhh Kita and Riseki are BIG MAD

Kita doesn’t say anything, he just GLARES at Atsumu

Riseki turns and goes after you but not before giving Atsumu the death glare of a lifetime

Aran, Omimi and Akagi are ready to kill

Suna is still recording 📱

Ginjima has now joined the pack and is wondering what the heck is going on

And Osamu, well Osamu is 👀 👇🏻

“YOU TYRANNICAL PIGGGGG!” He shouts as he kicks Atsumu in the back

But this time, nobody stops him from beating up his brother

The team 👉🏻 😙🎶

Meanwhile-

“YN wait! Please wait- I’m so sorry about Atsumu!” Riseki says apologizing to you

“Riseki, I’m sorry but I can’t-,”

“Please Yn! PLEASE! Please just give us a shot! I promise, we will kick Atsumu off the team if we have to just please be our manager!” Riseki says, on his knees BEGGING

Dang these guys really want a manager 😅

You sign, “I’ll do a trial run if it means that much to you.”

Riseki 👉🏻😐😳🥹 really?!?

You smile and nod a little

Riseki pulls you in for a deep hug 🫂 as you simply blush

And this began your journey as Inarizaki’s sweet manager

I wish I could say it was all smooth sailing but alas, Atsumu is still on the team 🙄

You aren’t sure why but at first, he’s just not nice at all

Like he refuses to take a towel from you, or even drink the water you hand him

He kind of makes you miserable

He knows how shy you are so he often puts you on the spot just to embarrass you

“Hey Yn do you know what that was called?” He says as he slams a serve over

Omimi and Akagi 👉🏻🙄 here we go…

Kita 👉🏻 😐😑 Atsumu-

Osamu 👉🏻 just say the word Yn 🙎‍♂️🤛🏻

Suna 👉🏻👀📱

“Umm a serve ace right?” You shyly respond

“Well would you look at that, she can learn,” Atsumu laughs as he walks away

Everyone is GLARING at Sumu rn

Literally Riseki was not joking when he said they would kick him off the team Yn

Idk if you bruised his ego or what Yn but man’s has it out for you 😅

However, one thing about Atsumu is that you can win the man over

It’s simple really… 🙌🏻 praise 🙌🏻

And you do just that

“Sumu your sets are really off today!” Aran says as Atsumu glares at him

“Yeah dude you literally almost flubbed our quick,” Suna says as Atsumu rolls his eyes and walks away

He sits on the bench, putting a towel over his head as he ponders

He’s not sure what’s wrong with him today but he’s been off all day

You noticed something was off, thinking maybe he was just having a bad day

But then you realized that Atsumu Miya wasn’t use to having bad days

So you decide to extend an olive branch

You walk over the him as he sits on the bench

“YN wait!” Osamu tries to stop you but he can’t

Suna’s eyes widen in fear for your life as Kita gets ready to save you from certain destruction

You calmly sit beside Atsumu as he turns his head and glares at you

You smile a little and place your hand on his gently

The team 👉🏻😳😲

“Everyone has bad days Atsumu. If we didn’t have bad days, we’d never get better. I still think you’re an amazing setter and if you ever need a hug, I’m here for you,” you say as Atsumu’s eyes widen

Atsumu is to stunned to speak

Quick Suna take a picture!

Seriously he was so mean to you and yet, you were still so nice to him

You smile and stand up, walking back to practice when it happens 🫣

Two strong arms grasp you from behind as a warmth radiates around you

You smile a little, grabbing his arms and squeezing

“Thanks Yn,” Atsumu says as he lets go and walks back into the court

The entire team is too stunned to speak

You say nothing as you go back to your job, handling towels, volleyballs and notes

“Did that just happen?” Ginjima asks

“I think so? Is this a dream?” Omimi responds

“Holy crap Atsumu actually has a heart?” Suna says

“OF COURSE I HAVE A HEART YA IDIOT!” Atsumu screams from the court

“Not like anyone could every tell ya grinch!” Osamu responds

“EXCUSE YOU SIR?!? WE ALL HAVE BAD DAYS, IF WE DISNT HOW WOULD WE EVER GET BETTER!” Atsumu responds

“YN literally just told you that ya dummy!” Ginjima says, rolling his eyes 🙄

The guys go back to practice

This time, Atsumu is much more on point

You smile and clap as the boys all kill it in practice

You don’t cheer loud, simply clap and smile 😊

It’s literally giving them life Yn!

Now when it came time for tournaments, you can’t say you weren’t nervous

This was your first time around so many people

You were still pretty shy, even thought you’d become friends with the entire volleyball team

Literally they were so protective of their shy little manager 🥹

“Ok is everyone here?” Kita asks as you nod

You had been walking in back with Suna, making sure all the members stayed together

“Ok let’s go get warmed up!” Kita shouted as the guys all nodded and followed

You were walking when suddenly, your notebook fell and your papers scattered everywhere

“Crap!” You silently said as you kneeled down to pick them up

However what you failed to notice was that the team had continued to walk

You see where I’m going with this 👀

“Hey guys- oh no!” You said as you stood up, realizing there was every color of jersey surrounding you BUT black and white

You 👉🏻😐😳😢

“Ok Yn calm down, the team is somewhere,” you silently muttered to yourself as you wandered around giants

You felt like crying, scared and nervous because there were so many people around

You had to ask someone for help

Suddenly, you bumped into the back of someone

“I’m so sorry!” You said, tears in your eyes as she looked at you

“Oh it’s fine, hey are you ok?” She asked, gorgeous blue eyes watching you

You shook your head, eyes meeting hers

“Hey Kiyoko, I’ve got the bento boxes all sorted!” A blonde girl said, walking up to you

“What team do you work with?” The girl named Kiyoko asked

“I-I’m with Inarizaki,” you said as they both smiled

“Come with me and Yachi, we can take you to the gym,” Kiyoko said as Yachi stood beside you

“Thank you so much,” you say bashfully to the two pretty girls

Meanwhile…

“Ok Riseki, Ginjima can you help YN fill up the water bottles please?” Kita asks as they nod and look over to you

Only you’re not there 😅

They start looking all over for their precious bby

Please Ginjima even looks under his shoes incase he stepped on you 😭

“Umm Kita,” Riseki interrupts

“Yes,” Kita says looking at him

“YNs not here,” Riseki says as everyone stops

“What the hell? Where is she?” Kita says looking around everywhere for you

“Suna weren’t you walking with her?” Aran asks as Suna gulps

“She was with me just a a minute ago!” Suna says, now panicking too

“Oh my god and I was just starting to actually like her and you lost her?!?” Atsumu says as Osamu smacks the back of his head

Then they hear their opponents say something

“Has anyone seen Kiyoko and Yachi?” Their team captain says

“OH MY GOD WE HAVE A MANAGER KIDNAPPER!!!” Riseki yells as two of Karasunos memebers RUN from the gym

“We have to find Yn!” Aran shouts following them with the rest of the team

All that remains in the gym is Kita and Karasuno’s captain, Daichi

“We could just text them,” Daichi says as Kita nods

Back with you, you are enjoying talking with the two Karasuno managers

They both seem a little shy like you but they still manage a strong school

“The gym is just up this way-” Kiyoko says when you hear it

At first, it sounds like a stampede of elephants

Then you realize it’s just like 15 teenage boys racing toward you 😅

“YN OH MY GOD WE FOUND YOU!” Riseki says pulling you into a hug as your boys gather around you

“Are you hurt? Do you need help? Are you hungry?” Aran says panicking as you watch Kiyoko and Yachi fight off their team

You giggle a little, the boys taken a back

“I’m fine guys, I actually just made some friends!” You says smiling at Kiyoko and Yachi

Inarizaki rn 👉🏻😐😳🥹 our baby is growing up!

“Thanks Kiyoko and Yachi! I’ll see you in the gym!” You say, waving to the two girls as they follow you

You look over at Riseki and give him the biggest hug

Riseki rn 👉🏻😳

“Thanks for inviting me to be your team manager! Now let’s go kick some butt!” You say sweetly as the team stops

The team 👉🏻👁️💧👄💧👁️

No need to worry about the match Yn, I’m sure everything will be just fine 😌

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#25: The Irresistible (1.03)

gif cred: @figmentof

Now this moment features another top-ranked Richonne kiss and the word of the day when talking about this Richonne scene behind a tree is 'CHEMISTRY' ❤️‍🔥...

We get to see Michonne inside a helicopter for the first time which is cool as she flies with Rick, Pearl, and others to the Cascadia base. Pearl, who just seems fully bought into the CRM ways, is trying to make Michonne feel like she should be so honored to be a part of this since she’s only a consignee.

Rick is sitting quietly in the helicopter and I’m sure he feels like he’s just been having some terrible, horrible, no good, very bad days every day that Michonne has been mad at him. Even tho first and foremost she’s mad at the situation they’re both in. But him a little too lol. 

gif cred: @nerd4music

Michonne again being an A with perceptive questions says, “There’s nothing out here. What’s it protecting?” And Pearl answers, “The security of the Civic Republic, expanded resources, intel operations along the West Coast, the future.”

Then when they arrive at their destination, Michonne is slaying in the CRM soldier uniform. 🔥 Like she serves in every outfit. 👏🏽

Pearl passionately goes over the mission with Rick by her side and again I love Michonne’s stance in this - she looks like she’s the one they should be taking orders from. ��

Rick looks over at Pearl and Michonne looks directly at Rick. I love how she’s not even trying to be super subtle staring at him like 🤨.

gif cred: @perryabbott

Michonne was giving full wife stare-downs and clearly had lots of thoughts going through her head as she expressively blinked and looked away.

As she says later, she saw Rick here standing at attention as a soldier to this army and she knows this isn’t him and that he’s imprisoned here.

I also notice Rick doesn’t really look at Michonne in this scene and it’s probably a smart move. Because if he had looked at her those fellow soldiers would be like - now why is Grimes looking at Consignee Bethune like he wants to consume her more than the delts do?? 🤔

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Pearl is trying her best to seem like an alpha leader but she's dtm and not really selling it. She talks about the importance of what they’re about to do and the stakes saying that if they’re unsuccessful the plan gets set back and then she yells, “Do we allow the plan to get set back!?”

Rick and the soldiers respond, “No ma’am” and Michonne has me cracking up at her response to Rick saying “no ma’am.” 😂 She’s looking directly at Rick like now I know you lying lol.

gif cred: @perryabbott

But honestly, while I know there was some interpreting this as her getting the ick from Rick, I think this look has a lot more to do with her disdain toward the CRM. I feel like she’s thinking something along the lines of 'CRM, you did a real number on my baby and I promise you I’m going to undo it.'

And again similar to Rick in previous scenes, Michonne is not subtle with these stares at him lol. But I love it. She’s looking at him like 'Mr. RJ’s Dad if we don’t get up out of here by tomorrow it’s gonna be an issue because I’ve had it with this place and I’m ready for us to go home yesterday.' #DirectQuoteFromHerMind. 😌

And I’d be remiss if I didn’t note that Rick looks fine yet again in this scene lol. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Rick asks, “Who has the ball, ma’am?” and Pearl says with overconfidence, “I do.” And again Michonne’s whole stance and look is serving, honey. Goddess through and through. 👑

Pearl goes on to address Michonne, and Thorne's energy is just giving forced. She wants Michonne to be intimidated so bad but it ain’t happening. And Michonne is ready to match Pearl’s energy right down to their facial expressions.

Pearl tells Michonne to stay in formation and handle cleanup and no-kills off the line. Michonne just nods and Pearl tells Michonne not to panic if she gets lost because she can just hit the PRB and a helicopter will come get her. And even before seeing the upcoming scene, I was like why do I have a feeling Michonne will be the only one not panicking on this excursion lol. 🙂

gif cred: @perryabbott

So then they cut to them in the middle of the walker takedown and Michonne is about to walk forward and help (and it low-key feels like she starts walking forward cuz Rick is ahead and those magnets are always going to be pulling her in his direction. 🧲). But Pearl tells Michonne to stay back for no-kills.

gif cred: @perryabbott

I was like Pearl, this is basically like you’re keeping an all-star on the bench by keeping Michonne back. Like Michonne and Rick could probably handle all of this just the two of them. But Pearl is adamant and about as stubborn as that R-DIM that won’t budge.

Speaking of - Pearl is struggling to get this R-DIM moving, y’all. I honestly could not take much more secondhand embarrassment for the lady. 🫣 Rick tries to offer a solution but Pearl turns it down and says they should’ve given the last spot to a soldier instead of Michonne. Wrong again, Pearl. 

So Michonne watches, looking all determined, and she knows she can handle this so like a true Get Things Done Grimes she gets it done. 👌🏽

gif cred: @taiturner

Michonne starts pushing the R-DIM forward and Pearl tells her to stand down almost strictly because I’m sure she’s going to be embarrassed if Michonne pulls this off. But Michonne is already off to the races as she pushes the R-DIM.

And Michonne seems to feel like she’s back in her element doing this. See, It's not the R-DIM, It's not the Pearl, It's just that Chonne's that girl. 🎶💁🏽‍♀️

Then when it gets a bit harder to push she looks over and sees Rick by her side coming to help and y’all they’re just the best. 🥹

I love that Rick sees her doing this and joins and says, “Let’s go,” helping her rather than reprimanding her. He knows she’s breaking protocol but when it comes to following Pearl’s orders or following Michonne’s lead, well, his wife is his choice every time.

And seeing Richonne back in action taking down walkers was a lovely sight. It was giving TWD 7.09 when they were in cars mowing down that horde of walkers in sync.

All these years later and they are still that well-oiled machine even during a rough spot in the relationship. And if Michonne felt like she was in her element before, they both really feel in their element taking this on together. It’s the way it should be. 😌

So they get the R-DIM to where it needs to be and Rick turns it on. he tells Michonne, “Come on” as Rick reaches for her hand so they can run for safety. I love that he wants to hold her hand as he leads them somewhere safe and that she does take his hand. 🥰

I feel like amid their fight, they both were longing for some indicator that they’re still in this together and this handhold felt like that. Of course, Richonne + hands are always a great moment. 😌

And then next, TOWL gives us my favorite moment in episode 3.

The R-DIM alarm rings and then Rick and Michonne make it to what many have rightfully deemed the boneless tree. 😋 And I love the little detail of Rick making sure Michonne was able to take cover behind the tree before him. And that they hold hands the whole way. Just the cutest. 🥰

gif cred: @nat111love

The R-DIM sets off an explosion and Michonne and Rick immediately take cover in each other's arms and again I’m beyond here for it. I love that they both just instinctually grab each other. No matter how upset they are, they’ll always love and protect each other. 

gif cred: @nat111love

So they have this moment all up close and personal and because it is a scientific fact that these two are magnets & that adrenaline rushes are always particularly arousing for them, there was no way Rick and Michonne were going to be that much in each other's personal space and not do what they do next.

Like you think those magnets within them care that there are CRM soldiers nearby? No.🤭🧲

gif cred: @nat111love

So still holding onto each other, they have this moment of looking intimately into each other's eyes, once again communicating without words, and y’all the best way to describe the way they look at each other is ‘longing’ - like that deep longing for each other in every way was written loud and clear on both their faces. 

gif cred: @nat111love

Rick looks at her, then right at her lips, then back in her eyes and within a second he leans in and they’re right back to making out. I’m too here for it and I love this kiss. ❤️‍🔥 This was definitely their hungriest kiss thus far.

gif cred: @nat111love

I love how Rick sorta lifts up from the ground like he’s floating on air when he first kisses her. He really does kiss her like he’s still living in a dream.

I love how passionate they always are when they kiss. Even with Rick feeling like he needs to send her away, he cannot resist showing how he really feels as they kiss - and what he really feels is that he wants to be with her entirely and in every way. 

I feel like they both needed this moment of reconnection so much after being at odds. This kiss communicated clearly that before they’re mad, they’re madly in love.

gif cred: @nat111love

And then the second half of this kiss is when I was looking at Richonne like...oh y’all would go all the way right now if you could. 👀

Like I think one of the only things that stopped them from having this escalate was just the fact that those CRM uniforms are so layered lol. Because it wasn’t the fact that CRM soldiers were within walking distance. Richonne didn’t give a damn about that. I’m telling you it was just the layers of clothing and gear holding them back. 😂

gif cred: @nat111love

But being for real, these two really are wild because they weren’t even trying to align with the bark of that boneless tree to at least shield themselves a little better during this kiss. But hey, when they’re in their Richonne bubble like this, everything else goes out the window, so it makes sense.

But yeah the second half of that steamy kiss had them hot and bothered the way they were both moaning in sync and grabbing each other as close as they could. When Michonne pulled his hair Rick looked like he was about ready to get on top of her right then and there.

(Side note: What’s cute too is I noticed in their season 6 canon kiss that the first time Michonne ever puts her hands in Rick’s curls she’s almost hesitant to do it at first and then she just goes for it. And now it’s her favorite thing. 😊)

It’s been years and years since either of them has been physically intimate and this kiss right here lets you know they’re both very eager for opening that door up with each other again. Like it needs to happen expeditiously at this point cuz they’re ready. 

gif cred: @fishalthor

I love that something that’s always been true is Rick and Michonne are irresistible to each other. And truly no one does ravenous passion like Richonne. ❤️‍🔥

So I just adore this kiss for being a passionate moment of the two making their desire and love for each other so evident after not really talking much this ep. I almost forgot that in this episode Michonne hadn’t actually uttered a word to Rick until this scene. And her first words to him are perfectly delivered. 🤩

As they manage to pull away from the kiss, still completely unconcerned about being caught, they have this great passionate moment where they just stare right into each other's eyes and it truly feels like Rick is being hypnotized by Michonne as she smiles at him. #Enchanted😍

gif cred: @nat111love

I love the way Michonne smiles right after the kiss and I really love that Rick is always so helplessly mesmerized by her. He knows he’s going to have to push her away soon but at this moment he can’t even peel his eyes away. Because I really think in moments when he gets lost in her that's when he finds himself. 👌🏽

And (jumping a bit ahead) that’s why it’s crazy he'll even attempt to claim that everything they had is broken because anytime they get close enough, it sure does look like everything they have is perfectly intact.

Like these two stayed operating like a madly in love married couple even during the near eight years apart from each other. Even during that time, they were still more loyally married than some married couples who see each other every day.

And Michonne knows from that kiss that her Rick is still in there. The man who kissed her is the Rick who wants with everything in him to break out of this place and go home with her.

gif cred: @figmentof

So she smiles and all encouragingly and seductively whispers, “Come on.” So good and perfectly delivered. 👏🏽😊 And yet again we see the utterly enchanting effect Michonne has on Rick as he looks at her.

gif cred: @nat111love

Rick seems dizzy and breathless from this whole exchange as he faintly says, “They’ll find us. They will.” It’s clear he’s still so overcome with fear and a lot of that is because he knows how hopeful he used to be about breaking free from this place but every time he tried to escape they found him.

Like this isn’t the guy from the TWD series finale who got caught by the CRM and smiled. This is the guy whose been so beaten down by this place that he believes there’s nowhere he can run anymore. 😥

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne is still hopeful tho as she reassures him, “We’ll make it so they can’t.” It's super sweet to see them holding each other close and swaying in sync while they talk. And I love that Michonne believes in them so much that she’s like even if we don’t have all the answers yet, you and I are capable of figuring it out along the way home.

Plus, if Michonne thinks they can escape and not get caught then that's good enough reason to believe they can because she’s always right. It's just gospel. 💁🏽‍♀️ The way I see it, the only way the CRM would find them is if they keep having these loud moanversations near the public lol, otherwise the two of them can pull off any escape plan they make together. 😋

gif cred: @nat111love

But Rick is not willing to risk it and try to break away right now so he hesitantly says, “Not like this.” I know one of his least favorite things is having to turn down Michonne’s request and as he looks at her you can see it in his whole demeanor that he hates having to essentially tell her no.

Even the way he says it, it’s him trying to say no without having to outright say it, suggesting maybe there’s another way to escape just 'not like this,' even tho deep down he believes there's no way out for him.

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne is super saddened by this. She knows this fear-based response isn’t like her Rick.

And then I love that they do their signature forehead touch, even tho it’s a sad one. 🥲 This moment further emphasized that even when feeling defeated and disappointed, they still want to be connected. 

And y’all, to me Rick and Michonne doing this forehead touch out in the open was actually more wild than the kiss lol.🤭

Because if they were caught kissing they'd still have some major explaining to do but they could maybe play it off like they just really have the hots for each other after meeting in those woods. But this forehead touch says no these two have history and have a deeply committed relationship rooted in serious love.

gif cred: @nat111love

So if Richonne had been caught like this their jig would have been up cuz they would have had those CRM soldiers looking over like...

I always feel so sad when I see Michonne looking in Rick’s eyes during this moment and searching for her Rick who seems to fade in and out ever since she’s reunited with him. Like the back and forth between Sergeant Major Grimes and the fleeting moments with her Rick has got to be hard on her.

But I love the way she lightly nudges his nose cuz again it’s just giving magnets and idk that intimate movement just always feels like such a soulmates thing to me. 🥹 Like she's trying to reach the Rick that's buried inside cuz she knows he's in there somewhere.

gif cred: @nat111love

Rick looks at Michonne and from his expression, it's clear that while it deeply saddens him, he will put himself through the pain of parting from her if it means getting her back home safely to their daughter.

I think too in this moment as they lean their heads together Michonne is realizing just how much she’s going to have to fight to get them both home on her own since Rick isn’t ready to take the risk and break out yet.

Similar to what Rick had been doing up to this point, Michonne is now gonna have to take matters into her own hands for the sake of her family...and oh, she’ll do exactly that in these final moments of episode 3. 😅

gif cred: @nat111love

But as far as this enthralling scene 'behind' the tree, this was another one of those scenes where they were knocking the epic love story they promised out of the park. 🙌🏽 Their chemistry is truly elite. 😍 And I adore this kiss and this romantic moment that was just brimming with emotion and irresistible passion between Richonne. 

Throughout this episode, Michonne had been trying to keep her crazy at bay but now as the episode concludes and Rick proceeds to pull a crazy card of his own, she's gonna have to unleash that unhinged side of herself. And the final moments of episode 3 remind us exactly why they say Richonne has some 'crazy love.' 😝👌🏽

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

Well fuck, I guess this is gonna be three parts instead of two

It was an accident I swear I'm sorry 😭😭

Just kinda want it to develop naturally instead of forcing it

Soooooooooo

Oooh that smile 😌🫠

Well, here we go.

Blacksmith's Daughter

Part 2 of 3 (I'm POSITIVE this time I swear)

Part 1 here

OPLA!Shanks X AFAB!Reader

Wordcount: 4.3k

Hurt/comfort, fluffy as goddeng cotton candy, I guess slow-burn now too? Idfk

Trigger Warnings: mentions of death of loved one, trauma

Tag requests: @zzbloody-animezz

Perfectly harmless.

You very highly doubted that claim was true.

"Well," he said, tilting his head a little closer, "mostly harmless."

Still, almost as if to prove it, Shanks released his hold around your waist, his hand resting at your lower back a moment before slipping away to hold the cell door open for you. You stumbled just a little on your first steps out of the cell, your legs trembling, stiff and weakened in equal measure from three days and two nights stuck with the very limited range of movement that your bindings had allowed.

"Easy, now," said Shanks lightly, briefly slipping his arm around your back to steady you by your waist. "You haven't been on your feet in days, you can take a minute to get your footing. We're not in any rush."

"R...right," you said, uncertainly. You swallowed as he helped guide you over to the brig officer's desk, where you sat heavily in the chair, stretching your legs out for a moment. "I still don't really want to stay here too long. Three days has been more than enough." You leaned forward, pulling your swords across the desk and resting your forehead on one of of the black leather sheaths, laying your hand over the hilt. "Don't want to keep the crew waiting, either."

"Ah, they'll be busy a while," he said dismissively, pulling himself uo to sit on the desk. "There's a good bit of cargo to transfer." He nodded down at the swords. "Yours, I take it?'

You nodded, lifting your head. "I didn't even know if they were brought on the ship or not," you said. "My father made them for me." He had made them just over ten years ago, given them to you on your fourteenth birthday.

"Well, he was damned skilled. They're beautiful. May I?" He gestured a hand toward them. "If you don't mind."

"Go ahead," you said. You lifted one of the cutlasses and drew to from its scabbard, handing it over. His hand brushed across yours as he took the blade, clearly intentionally if the small smirk that briefly curved the corner of his lips was any indication. You watched him flip it deftly in one hand, holding it upright, his eyes scanning slowly down the edge of the blade.

"And well cared for. Sharp as a razor," he commented, impressed. He turning it sideways, flipping it around once more and nodding. "He teach you anything about smithing?"

You shook your head. "Not much," you said. "My brother was his apprentice. He taught me maintenance mostly. He instructed me in a few different weapon types, but swords were always my favorite." You took the weapon back when he handed it off to you, slipping the blade back into its scabbard. "And his."

"Experienced thief, weapons expert...." He leaned back a bit, smiling as he shook his head. "Yeah, you'll fit right in, sweetheart."

The way he was looking at you, the way his eyes burned into yours, had your face growing a little warm again as you turned your own gaze away, swallowing nervously. It wasn't as if no one had ever flirted with you before; you were honestly pretty used to it, ever since you had ended up living in the streets, used to crude comments and catcalling.

And yet here sat an incredibly notorious pirate captain, being incredibly respectful about it, all but making you swoon every time he lowered his voice or so much as touched your hand.

You stood from the chair, picking up your swords and setting to strapping them to your belt at either side of your hips, glancing down at the Marine cadet still bound in the corner of the room as his eyes passed between you and Shanks. You had never been around any pirates before now, but you had encountered your fair share of Marines, as many of them had been customers at your father's smithy.

Many of them had been self-righteous prats, and all the Marines aboard this ship had treated you like scum they had dragged in on the bottom of their boots.

"I think I will fit in fairly well," you finally said, quietly.

"Now that's the spirit!" His enthusiasm was honestly infectious, and you couldn't help but smile a little as he slipped off of the desk. "There's a fair chance you'll end up with a bounty on your head once word of your escape reaches Marineford, anyway. Between that and breaking into a base in a major city." He still sounded particularly amused about that as he rest his hand over the small of your back, stepping over the Marine cadet as if he weren't even there. "I'm eager to find out how you managed it. Oh, no, not yet," he added when you opened your mouth to respond. "I'm sure the whole crew's going to want to hear that tale."

Well, it was quite a tale. You were honestly surprised you had made it as far as you had before getting caught.

Before everything went to hell in a handbasket.

You lifted a hand to shield your eyes as you emerged onto the bustling deck of the ship; the mid-afternoon sun was blinding after days of only seeing it through one small, rounded window in the brig. The Red Hair crew was working quickly and steadily on robbing the Marine ship completely blind, right before their eyes—the entire crew of around fifty Marines was tied up on the deck, bound at their hands and feet, the captain and his officers situated at the center mast to give them the best possible view of the entire debacle.

Shanks called and motioned for his own officers to line up at the starboard side of the caravel, and took his time in introducing you to each of them individually. He glanced back occasionally at the Marines' captain and mates with a smirk, clearly reveling in their growing annoyance.

"Our newest thief has two years experience," he dragged on loudly, pacing slowly between you and his officers—many of whom were cracking up themselves, well aware that the whole spectacle was being orchestrated for the sole purpose of riling up the captive Marines, "and was arrested for—if you can believe it—breaking into a Marine base in a major port city in Arabasta with only one accomplice, and getting so far as to open their treasury vault before being captured."

And he paused for effect at that, waiting as the crew began to break into laughter, as you struggled to keep a straight face yourself, glancing toward the infuriated Marine captain, who had told you before shoving you into the brig a few days ago that he would personally see to it that you never saw the light of day again. For once in your life you were seeing karma in real time—and it was a positively beautiful sight to behold.

"And I'm sure we're all dying to know," Shanks went on, ceasing his pacing and stopping just in front of you, grinning, "how the hell she managed it."

He had given you more than enough time to go over the details in your head. A lot of your success had been pure dumb luck, for sure, but you drew up your resolve to relay it.

"Overheard a few cadets in a tavern talking about how the vaults were never heavily guarded...and the roof access was never locked." His eyebrows shot up toward the bright red fringe of his hair as you spoke. His officers glanced between each other. "A couple days later we climbed the back wall of the base. Knocked out a couple Marines at the top floor, stole their uniforms, and made our way down."

"Bullshit." All eyes shifted onto the Marine captain when he spoke up, glaring daggers at you. "That base is constructed out of sandstone. Five stories of completely smooth stone. There's no way anyone could climb the walls."

"Tell your comrades at the base to check the back wall for holes," you said coldly, your eyes lingering on his. "We used climbing spikes."

The man's teeth gritted together in a visible scowl. You turned your head back toward the snickering pirates, in time to see Shanks mumble something to Benn, who rolled his eyes and scoffed.

Then you heard the Marine captain behind you again, speaking in a low growl. "Disrespectful wench." You turned your head in time to watch him spit at the heel of your boot.

"Disrespectful?" Though the rest of his crew continued to chuckle, Shanks wasn't laughing as he put himself between you and the oposing captain, his forearm resting over the hilt of his saber at his hip. "I get the impression you haven't done much to earn anyone's respect," he said. "That being said, respectfully, captain...."

And with that, he placed the heel of his sandal against the man's shoulder and shoved him over. With the Marine's hands and feet bound, there was nothing he could do to right himself—nothing except glare daggers at Shanks as he crouched down in front of him.

"Don't interupt." Shanks gave him a smile and a rather hard clap on the shoulder before straightening back out and turning to face his own crew. "Now—"

"Goddamned pirates," he spat. Shanks looked back over his shoulder at the man. "A thief's a thief," he said viciously, glaring daggers at you from where he lay on the deck floor. "The whore'll rob you lot blind same as she tried with us."

There was scattered chuckling around the Marines as Shanks stared down at the captain for a long, tense moment. You saw something shift in his eyes, the warmth and humor leaving them.

"Whore?" he repeated lightly, raising his eyebrows. His eyes swept around the rest of the Marines, before he turned to you, taking a couple steps closer. He brushed a few strands of hair behind your ear, offering you a warm smile. "I take it," he said slowly, quietly, "this is how you were being treated for the past three days, sweetheart?"

You swallowed, glancing over toward the Marines, whose laughter had quickly subsided. "More or less, yes," you affirmed.

"Hmm." He nodded, his hand drifting down to your shoulder, lifting the torn strap of your black tank top—torn when you had been flung into the cell in the brig by a couple cadets, while the captain stood watch and told you then that you'd never see the light of day again. His eyes shifted over to the Marines again, and he spoke aloud. "Change of plans, men. We take everything from this ship that isn't nailed down...and then we sink her."

The protest from the Marines was immediate, loud and desperate—some begging to be spared, others calling you several other colorful names and shouting claims that you were lying. Even you found yourself staring wide-eyed at the red-haired captain, at the knowledge that he would sink an entire ship just because of how the crew had treated you.

You were beginning to understand the reason for his bounty.

Shanks ignored the Marines entirely—it seemed his mind was made up. "I think we're just about done here." Your eyes remained wide as he turned his head back to meet your gaze, his expression softening into a smile again, his hand resting at your lower back. "What say we get you over to our ship and..." He glanced down at your shoulder briefly, at the broken strap of your shirt hanging down, "maybe find you something to change into."

You nodded, tugging unconsciously at the broken strap to pull the neck of your shirt up. "I...suppose that would be..."

"There's no need to worry, love" He clearly noticed your unease—there was no doubt it was written all over your face. He curled his arm around your back, leaning in a bit so he didn't have to raise his voice over the mounting protest of the Marines behind both of you. "You're part of my crew now, and we always look out for each other." He glanced over at the metal clink of a lighter igniting at his other side, and grinned at his first mate. "Isn't that right, Benn?"

Hi first mate quirked an eyebrow, taking a puff from his cigarette. "What am I agreeing to?"

"Ah, don't worry about it," Shanks laughed. "Anyway—I'll trust you to handle preparations here." He nodded back toward the Marines as the three of you stopped at the starboard railing around the deck, and he leaned forward against it, his eyes scanning over his ship floating only a few feet away, over the rest of the crew getting the supplies they had taken from the Marines organized. "Half a keg of powder should do the trick, we'll bring the rest with us."

"Right," said Benn, stubbing out the cigarette he had just lit on the railing and tucking it behind his ear.

"After you've—"

There was a light metallic clink right behind you—and all three of you heard it, glancing over your shoulders.

In the same instant you drew one of your swords and spun around, leveling it with the Marine officer's throat, Benn had his rifle pointed at the man's forehead. The officer dropped the flintlock pistol he had pointed at Shank's back, his eyes widened in shock, shaking as he slowly raised his hands.

Shanks turned around and leaned back, hanging his elbow over the edge of of the railing and glancing at you with a quick nod of approval. Then he turned his eyes on the Marine, giving a small chuckle and cooking his head to the side a bit.

"Now that wasn't a very smart decision, was it?" he said, grinning. "You could have just snuck by and sent out a distress call. Did you?" he added, lifting his eyebrows.

"I—I—no, I—I just—I—"

"Check," said Shanks, cutting his eyes toward Benn.

Benn gave a short nod, shouldered his rifle, and headed off toward the quarterdeck in quick strides.

The Marine remained standing there, shaking and stammering, his eyes darting between your blade and Shanks as the red-haired captain rolled his gaze back over to you. "Quite a set of reflexes you've got, sweetheart. You said your father trained you?"

You glanced at him only briefly before training your eyes back onto the Marine, and nodded. "We didn't live in a great area," you said. "He wanted to make sure I could defend myself."

"I would have to say he succeeded," he chuckled, shaking his head a little. He leaned back a bit further, placing the toe of his sandal over the Marine's pistol and sliding it across the deck, stooping down to pick it up. "What other tricks have you got up your sleeve?"

"Well," you said, watching as he turned the pistol over in his hands, and then casually reach behind him and drop it overboard. Benn was heading back down the stairs from the quarterdeck with a coil of rope hanging from one shoulder. He seemed to be in no hurry, so clearly no distress signal had been sent off. You went on, "He rigged this for me, in case I ever get disarmed."

You shifted your weight onto one foot, and hit the back of your right boot heel on the deck, and a three inch blade shot out from a slot in the front of the sole.

The Marine drew in a sharp breath, and Benn stopped a few feet away, speaking one word that clearly echoed his captain's wide-eyed expression.

"Shit."

Shank's brief look of shock quickly faded into an almost childlike excitement.

"God, that is brilliant," he laughed, crouching down and tilting his head to examine the blade. "How's it work?"

"Some sort of spring-loaded trigger mechanism," you said. You knocked your heel down again and the blade retracted. You smirked a little yourself as Shanks straightened back out—his enthusiasm truly was contagious. "My father called them 'Ball-Busters.'"

That cracked him up immediately—he leaned his shoulder into the railing, laughing, while Benn gave a scoff and shook his head. "I'd say that's pretty goddamned accurate," the first mate said. "I got it from here," he added, pulling his rifle down from his shoulder and shoving it against the Marine's shoulder as you pulled your cutlass away and slipped the blade back into its scabbard. "Alright, over there with the other assholes," he said, nudging him with the barrel. "We're as sick of being here as you are of having us here."

You watched Benn usher the officer over toward the main mast, feeling oddly as if you were stuck in the middle of some strange dream you might wake up from at any minute—wake up back in the dark and dingy cell below the deck, down in the brig, getting dragged out to be shoved into an even darker cell in Impel Down for the rest of your days.

"Oh, you are just a treat." So lost in that thought were you that you jumped a little when Shanks wrapped an arm around your back again. "Come on, love. Let's get you changed and cleaned up." He pulled himself up onto the railing and stepped into a sturdy plank laid out between his own ship and the Marines', offering you his hand. You took it and he helped pull you up as well, his fingers lacing through yours as he gave you another charming smile. "I'd say you've more than earned it."

Your eyes remained locked for a long, tense moment, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand, your heart racing a little faster—until a particularly strong wave rocked both of the ships and made you stumble a little. He chuckled lightly, before leading you across the plank and onto the main deck of his own ship.

You felt more than a little out of your element a few minutes later, lingering near the door of the captain's quarters with your arms crossed over your stomach while Shanks rifled through a wardrobe against the wall. You were still a little apprehensive, your mind still lingering on the man's decision to sink the Marines' vessel solely on your behalf, but there was a charm about him that was almost intoxicating, and it was drawing you in quickly.

"Don't really have anything that's going to fit you properly," he said, pulling one shirt out and frowning at it before hanging it back up. "But there might be...something...."

You swallowed, glancing around the cabin—at the table to your left that was covered in maps, a desk in the corner with a closed logbook, a four-poster bed in another corner with a pair of floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the port side of the ship. It still all felt uncanny enough to be a dream.

"No...other women on the crew, I take it?" you said slowly.

"No," he affirmed, still pushing aside hangers and frowning. "Not as if it's intentional, it just...turned out that way, I suppose?" He said it with an air of genuine surprise himself that almost made you chuckle. "Seems most women aren't interested in sailing around with a ship full of—ah, this should do," he interjected, pulling out a white shirt on a metal hanger that seemed at least a little smaller than the others. "Probably haven't worn it since I was a teenager," he said, looking it up and down.

He gave the shirt an appraising nod, and then tossed it to you before crossing the room to take a seat at the desk. He noded once more toward the corner by the wardrobe where there stood a fold-out changing screen.

"You'll have to forgive me if I'm a little averse to leaving a stranger alone in my personal quarters. But..." He lifted his hand, smiling, before covering his eyes with it. "I promise I won't peek. Pirate's honor."

You did chuckle a little at that. It wasn't as though you weren't used to changing in less than totally private conditions—you had been living on the streets for just over two years. You crossed the room yourself, ducking behind the divider screen and pulling it out.

"Nor do I wish to be on the recieving end of the Ball-Buster," he added, and you laughed aloud at that.

"I've never actually used it," you said, hanging the shirt over the top edge of the screen and pulling your tank top over your head. "Not as more than a threat a couple times. The sight of it usually gets the point across."

"I can't fathom any circumstance where it wouldn't," he laughed. You heard him sigh after a moment, while you pulled down the hanger and unbuttoned the shirt he had given you. "Out of curiosity," he said finally, "why exactly were you being shipped to Impel Down?" You paused, your eyes flickering up to the changing screen, in the direction of his sillhouette—and noting that from his shadow alone you could tell he still had his hand over his eyes. "That's a privilege normally reserved for pirates and revolutionaries rather than petty local thieves."

"I, uh...." You swallowed, pulling your arms through the sleeves of the shirt. You hadn't been completely clear on every detail, but it seemed now was as good a time as any—even if it was painful to recall. "I...killed two Marines before I was apprehended."

"Did you?" he said lightly.

"Mmm." You set to buttoning the shirt, slowly, glancing toward his silhouette again. "I didn't...really mean to. After...I guess after my brother took a bullet for me, I just sort of...reacted. I don't even really remember much of it. Just—him falling, then them taking my swords and locking me in a storage closet before carting me off to the ship."

You truthfully weren't even sure how long you had remained at the base before being taken to the docks—locked in the dark, your arms wrapped around your knees, wondering if you were ever going to see daylight again, hoping it was all just some awful nightmare you might wake up from.

"That's...." You heard him sigh heavily. "That's a lot." You gave a small hum in agreement, looking down at the shirt, and sighing yourself—it fit you like a nightgown, the hem drooping nearly down to your knees. You shook your head and set to unbuttoning it again.

"I suppose the Marines had a good reason for treating me like trash," you allowed, rolling the hem of the shirt up and tying it in a knot at your midriff. You fastened a few of the buttons above the knot, and set to rolling up the sleeves. "I did kill a couple of their comrades."

"And they killed your brother," he pointed out.

You frowned to yourself, swallowing back a lump forming in your throat at his quiet, understanding tone. You glanced up again when you heard him shift, and watched his shadow stand and cross the room through the screen as you rolled up the other sleeve to just above your elbow. You pulled the screen back just as he reached it, your eyes meeting his the moment you did. The sympathy in his dark eyes was almost enough to break you in an instant. You glanced down at his hand when it came to rest on your shoulder for just a moment before your eyes snapped back to his.

"That doesn't—" He shook his head. "Nothing excuses fifty plus grown men treating a young woman like something a dog dragged in. Particularly not after what you went through." Your gaze fell away from his at that, down to the floor. "I'm assuming from what you've said—and forgive me if I'm wrong—that you'd never..." He paused, seeming to search for the correct words. "You'd never been forced to defend yourself before?"

You shook your head. You had practiced with your swords for years, sparred with both your father and your brother regularly, but you had never been in a situation where you had to truly fight for your life. You had definitely never killed anyone before. You barely recalled the details even now, and you honestly didn't want to remember them at all.

"Oh, sweetheart..." He let out a slow sigh, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You closed your eyes as he rest his hand lightly over your head, as a little tension you hadn't even been aware of released from your shoulders. Your head fell forward, resting against his chest, and you closed your eyes as he lowered his head over yours. "Just so we're clear...you don't have to stay here," he said gently, his thumb brushing across the crown of your hair. "You're not a prisoner, you're a guest. You can take a few days to decide. Or longer. But if you do..."

He moved his hand to your cheek, lifting your head gingerly until your eyes met his.

"This crew is like a family." He lowered his forehead to yours, his hand drifting down to your shoulder again as he offered you a warm smile. "And you'll be welcome to stay as long as wish. Alright?"

You swallowed, and nodded.

Lowered your head again, your breath shaking as it left your lungs, and you rest your forehead against his chest again, your eyes closing tightly. You weren't used to this—this degree of kindness, of compassion from much of anyone, much less a stranger...but something in his eyes, in the warmth of his touch, told you that he was being completely sincere.

"Th...thank you," you whispered—you couldn't think of anything else to say than that, nothing that could wholly express the emotion swelling in your chest.

He just chuckled lightly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders again.

"You're welcome, love."

[accio-victuuri]

August CPNs round-up ❤️💛💚

it’s bobo’s birth month! let’s start with this chaotic behind the scenes video 🫶🏼

• the letters yb was flashed in xzs vlog

• two people spotted in xz’s mountain drawing

• a hongkong politician posts about xz and wyb being good celebrities that will help promote HK

• 8/5 yibo’s day clowning part one part two - this year was too loud! the bday photo alone is enough to szd. 😂😂😂😂 part 2.5 part 3

• yibo and xz related hot search for bobo’s bday

THEIR VCRs for Han Hong’s foundation, a charity organization they both are a part of. We love them generous Kings!

• in the xinxiangyin live, we see an activity that they filled with things xz likes and will have something to talk about. you will notice a couple are the same as yibo’s. hotpot ( which i must admit is more general ), photography, fitness, tennis and films.

you can say that these are not unique interests, but when you put them together and another person has the same one seem sus. this is something i always say, even if you don’t believe that they are in a romantic relationship — these clues show that they have maintained that connection. no matter how many people cry about the “copying” agenda, we can’t deny that the coincidences are too much. this is why they get along, they can adapt each other’s interest. they have the same values. they are out here ticking all the boxes for a fruitful relationship <3

• the similarity 👀👀👀 right is xz in ELLE’s feature video for XZ.

• QUATRE BLUE 💙💙💙

oooohhhh i love jewelry. tho i’m kinda on the fence about this cause boucheron is a brand that xz is promoting and it makes sense that it will be used for a magazine. he is endorsing this line of rings but has never used this blue which just happened to be something wyb before. i understand why people are going 👀 because the photos were released days after Bobo’s bday.

• XZ’s Elle September issue feature clowning

• 8/10 yibo-official bts video clue

• yibo’s montbell shirt

• bobo shows some bxg bias @ pechoin live

• in the LINSY product launch conference, they were talking about a sofa and it had a special feature thing where you can put stuff in it & wyb mentions you can put chips. lol. that was so fast. he is not someone who likes chips, but we know one who does! i’d like to think that it’s a subconscious answer. he just thought of an important person in his life. 🫶🏼

• matching high school students hair 😂😂😂

• ANTA 🤝 LI NING

• their airport fashion looking so identical 👀 we could argue all day about how this is not unique and just about anyone can do this combo.. but does anyone else do this? no. it’s always these two. it’s harder to tell them apart when they are like this, which we guess is helping them when they visit each other on set.

the two of them doing couple wear!

• bottled joy x tsingtao collab 🍻

• xz’s heurueh boyfriend t shirt

• mengniu fan benefit featuring the boys

• handprints next to each other in the Qixi Wall

• this gif is gold!!!! pleaseeee!!!!! 😂😂😂😂 and it even went on hot search!

• analysis and details of wyb’s new song = somebody else’s arms

• wyb’s post YH concert weibo update 🟡🟡🟡

• i talked briefly about the cpf support during the concert and i have nothing more to add. i’m sure i can make another post that “shows” how wyb appreciated the cpfs indirectly during the concert but i won’t. there is no need for proofs of any kind — we know the truth. 😌😌😌 tho i will never be pro violence or insulting and being very mean to people in person just to prove a point. there’s a whole nasty situation that happened post concert which i have no energy for and i do not condone btw.

• their weibo 15th bday post 🌙

• the final episodes of exploring the unknown is on oct 5-6 because tencent has released the watching schedule. yes, wyb probably had a lot more input in this project but he was probably not alone in deciding when this would premiere and how the episodes are gonna line up. but i’m still happy with this coincidence. ✌🏼

what we wanna know tho is what will be the episode on 10/5 cause if it’s him in the desert i will — 🤯! cause his photo there was the one he used for his bday, which is eerily similar to GG’s from last year. so yeah. we will see!

-END.

<<< previous posts

See you all next month!!!!! 💛💛💛

[fairy-writes]

Hello dear! How are you? I hope you are doing great💕

I'd like to request an oneshot with William J. Moriarty, where he has just returned from a mission with minor injuries on his back and his wife (preferably feminine, but if you're uncomfortable gender neutral is fine!) takes care of him. There she sees the scars from when his foster mother would punish him so she caresses and kisses his back😌.

With prompt 7

I really hope this is not confusing and thank you very much in advance. 😘😘

KNOW WHEN IT’S ENOUGH

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader

Prompt: “Enough is enough, and your best is good enough.” (Dialogue Prompt #7)

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader

Notes: I’m weak for people calling their significant other “love.”

Vague references to the Hounds of the Baskervilles chapter(s) of the manga!

__________________________________________________________________________

It’s late when William gets home. 

You wake to the sound of the bedroom door opening and see him in the light of the dying fireplace. Your husband is haggard, covered in dirt, and looks like he’s two seconds away from passing out. 

You’re out of bed in an instant, gently working his long black coat from his shoulders and guiding him toward the shared bathroom in your chambers. 

“I’m fine, love. Really, it’s merely a few scratches.” He says, and you hush him as you turn on the oil lamps and flit about the bathroom like a busy bee. You gather bandages and ointment from under the sink and draw a bath. Setting your supplies on the counter, you turn to face your husband. 

William is leaning tiredly against the doorframe, watching with something akin to amusement at your fretting. 

“I promise you, I’m alright.” He says, and you shake your head, approaching him and dusting some dirt off of his cheek. 

“I want to make sure, William. Please?” You whisper, and he sighs, cupping your hand and keeping it there. He leans into your touch and offers a small smile.

“When can I ever say no to you?” He whispers, and you grin brightly. 

You turn away to give William some privacy as he sheds the rest of his clothes. You’ve already seen all of him. As he’s seen all of you. But it still seemed appropriate. 

The splash of water alerts you, and you turn to see William sinking into the bath, eyes closed and looking utterly at peace. You fold his clothes and set them aside as he starts to relax. His arms hand out of the tub, and as you drag a stool to sit behind him, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t even move as you lather some soap in your hands and scrub it deep into his hair, getting all the dirt and smoke out from the golden strands. 

Once done scrubbing his hair, you take a cup that was beside the tub and fill it with water to gently rinse the grime from your husband’s hair. 

“What was the mission about this time?” You ask softly, and his eyelashes flutter but don’t open, as if you had woken him from sleep.

“Some nobles had been kidnapping children and hunting them for sport. Fred was worried, so we went and took them down. The children were rescued.” He says simply, and you hum.

“What about the nobles?” You can’t help but ask, and he finally tilts his head back and opens his eyes to look at you. 

They’re tired and dark.

As if he had done something terrible.

He likely had.

You weren’t a fool. You weren’t necessarily privy to William’s methods, but you were well aware of the lengths he would go to achieve his goals. 

“They got what they deserved.” Is all he says, and closes his eyes again as you comb the wet hair from his eyes. You nod once,

“I’m glad.” You reply. The two of you sit in silence as you gently wash the dirt from William’s shoulders. 

Then you noticed the faint red color coming from his back, leaking into the water and turning it pink.  With a frown, you gently push William forward from where he was relaxing to get a good look at his back. He moved without a fight.

William wasn’t necessarily well-built or massive like Moran. He was lithe and lean, built almost like a dancer rather than a fighter. 

He was also covered in scars. Old and new. Some were from past missions. Others were not. 

Though William wasn’t one to talk about his past, you had gathered enough in passing conversation to know that Albert’s family wasn’t the kindest to him and Louis. You knew the both of them were adopted from an orphanage as a charity case rather than out of the goodness of the Moriarty family’s hearts. You knew their birth son, whose name your husband had taken, was especially cruel to the boys. And you knew that the mother was quick to physical violence. 

But to this extent?

You traced what looked like an old scar of a belt buckle, and it was then that William realized just what was going on. He sat up quickly, turning to say something but stopped when he saw the look on your face. 

It was then that you realized you were crying. 

Tears streaked your cheeks, and you wiped them with soapy fingers, careful not to get the suds in your eyes. Droplets of water dotted your nightgown, but you paid them no mind. He turned so he was facing you in the tub and reached with a wet hand to cup your cheek.

“Why do you cry, my love?” He asked, and you gave a rather sad, watery sort of smile.

“Because you’re always doing so much with no regard for yourself. You took all that witch’s punishments without complaint, without so much as a word against her.” You whispered, and his eyes turned so unimaginably sad.

“I have to. I have to try my best to help others.” He replied, and you shook your head, leaning to press a kiss to his shoulder.

“Enough is enough, and your best is good enough. You can’t work yourself to death. I won’t stand for it.” You say, and he doesn’t say anything else.

So, once he’s clean, you fetch his robe, a towel, and a fresh change of night clothes. You wait until he’s clothed from the waist down before dressing the injuries on his back. They’re minor in severity and won’t need stitches, but you clean and bandage them nonetheless.

All the while, William doesn’t say a word.

Until you’re nearly finished, that is. 

As you’re wrapping the last of the gauze around the worst of the largest injury, he speaks. 

“Thank you.” He says quietly, and you smile, although he can’t see it. You lean and press a gentle kiss to his back, right over his heart.

“It’s not a problem. I love you.” You reply, and he hums.

“I love you too.”