#that first pic has my heart so impossibly warm

[dy3rs3v3]

Metallica back at it on their M72 World Tour playing their rescheduled Night 2 in Phoenix, AZ, 09.09.23

Pics by Brett Murray & Jeff Yeager

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 13

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 13 🔞

Word Count: 4915

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: A little NSFW in the opening of the chapter, okay? And now... the drama begins to unfold... I'm very torn between downright heartbreaking angst and just a little bit of angst for the ending chapters... I'll be giving this a thought in the next days as I try to finish this story before starting work! Thank you for reading! (I swear Tumblr hates me. I cannot add the song right again...)

|Masterlist| | |Chapter 12| | |Chapter 14🔞|

Morning breaks too soon, but you're roused awake by more than just the call of the birds. It's the gentle caress against your bare back that rubs away the sleep, it's the lull of comfort that his scent brings you and the serenity of it all that warms your heart. You're awake, you're alive, and you're in love. 

“Morning.” You whisper softly. “Am I ever going to wake up before you?” You say after a yawn assaults you. 

Law's soft chuckle makes your head move slightly against his bare chest. “Unlikely. I'm a very light sleeper.”

You snuggle closer, stretching your legs before wrapping them again around his, in a limb cocoon. “Yeah, that makes sense. With the hospital calling, right?” He hums against the crown of your head and places a gentle kiss there. The simplicity of the gesture is a stark contrast to the depth of its meaning. A kiss makes you shudder, a gentle caress makes you melt, a gaze completely unravels you. The hold Trafalgar Law has on you is inexplicable, and totally out of your control. Strangely enough, this is the one thing you don't wish to have any control over. 

Love is better when it runs wild and free. Not leashed or caged, as you very well know. 

“Want to tell me what's on your beautiful mind?” He murmurs against your head and you snuggle impossibly closer, your arms wrapping tightly around his torso. 

“Nothing much.”

“I can feel your brain whirling from up here, you know.”

You snort. “Wouldn't put it past you. I was just…” Everything. He wants to know and hear everything you have to say. “I'm so happy, Law.”

His hand reaches down, tucking your chin gently upwards so your eyes meet. The world stops just for you, the perfection of the moment being carved with intricate detail into the confines of your memory. “Me too, sweetheart.” 

With just three words, you know that your feelings towards Law are reciprocated and mirrored, and damn if that isn't the best feeling in the world. But then he presses his lips softly against yours, and maybe this is the best feeling in the world instead. 

As his tongue swipes your lower lip, sucking and pulling at it for a light nibble, you roll your body over his and part your lips to welcome his tongue. His hands lower from your upper back down your spine, settling on your hips and then your thighs as he parts them so you can straddle him. The kiss deepens, and you can feel how hard he already is, pressed against you, but the pressure of his hands on your thighs doesn't let you move a muscle to even think about grinding against him. 

He parts the kiss, and you chase his mouth, clearly not done yet, but he doesn't care for your frustrated groan as he rolls you onto your back and untangles the sheets from your bodies. When his gaze meets yours, he's wearing your favourite unhinged grin. “I believe I still owe you something from last night.” The velvet in his voice sends a shudder down your spine that gathers at your core.

“Owe me?”

His thumb teases your perked nipple as he lays a trail of kisses from your sternum down to your stomach. “I said fingers, tongue, and cock.”

A rush of heat courses through you as his intentions are now clear. 

“I'm still missing one of those.” 

“Law…” You start, but any coherent thought is quickly pushed to the side when his mouth starts to trace and nibble your inner thigh. “Law!” You repeat his name, but now with the fervour of need behind it.

He hovers just above your wet slit, and you exhale a shaky breath. You’re naked since you both fell asleep almost instantly last night, so there’s nothing between his expert tongue and your dripping self. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” His warm breath tingles and ignites. With a heavy sigh, you push your hips down, trying to force contact, but his hands grip your thighs, and he chuckles. “Impatient and needy. You don’t like mornings much, do you?”

Law flicks his tongue and swipes it lazily between your folds, pulling a decadent moan from your parted lips. You don’t care much for mornings, he’s right, but if he decides to wake you up like this, you might just come to love them.

“But I’m still not sure about what you want.” He drawls, nuzzling your clit with his goatee. The harshness of the gesture just makes you sigh out another moan. How is he so devastatingly good at tearing your sanity apart? 

“Your tongue, Law. I need your tongue!” You say between harsh breaths. You’ve learned to just tell him what you want and need these past days. He’s going to pull the words out of you one way or another. 

“And what should I do with my tongue, exactly?” That! Fuck! Law just rolled your clit between his tongue and teeth, and the closeness of pain and pleasure made little black and white dots float in your vision. 

“Fuck me with your tongue, Law, please!” You gasp out, unable to hold back anymore, your body arching, already seeking more pleasure as your fists grip the sheets for some kind of grounding or purchase. 

“That’s my good girl.” You moan loudly as he plunges his tongue inside you, reaching far and then curling it upwards. It’s heavenly and divine, and, at the same time, ungodly and sinful. Just like the man himself.

“Law! Oh, fuck!” Your hand clamps against your mouth, trying to stifle the loud sounds you can’t seem to contain as Law plays with your clit again, his long fingers probing your insides with expertise. 

“Scream my name loud and clear, sweetheart. I want to hear you fall apart, just for me.” 

You’re barely holding on to any sane thought. All you can think about is Law’s tongue, Law’s deep voice, Law’s fingers, Law, Law, Law. He’s everywhere, he’s everything.

“That’s it, I can feel you tightening up just for me, sweetheart. Let it go.”

You cry out his name just as you unravel, a wave of pleasure washing over you, bright and hot and so, so blissful. He doesn’t stop, even as you bury your hands in his hair and clench your thighs around him, mewling and moaning with overstimulation. He pushes a little further, and your legs start to quiver, pain fluttering to another cresting wave of pleasure, like smaller waves following a huge tsunami. 

Your litany of gasps and moans turns into a desperate prayer or curse, you can’t quite tell, as Law’s tongue draws out the last remnants of pleasure from you, until you’re completely drained, with your chest heaving and sweat dampening your skin. 

You're still trying to catch your breath, fingers entwined in Law's dark locks as he stares smugly at you from his perch between your thighs when you hear it. 

Knock, knock. Two light taps on the door. Fuck. Whoever it was definitely heard you moan and cry out Law's name in pleasure. Law grunts, a scowl immediately twisting his lips as he slips on his pyjama pants and drapes the sheet over your naked body. 

“What?” He asks before wiping his mouth against his arm and unlocking the door. From where you're lying, you can make out the tall figure of Doflamingo, and though you can't see the expression on his face, you can bet he's wearing an insufferable smirk. 

“Good morning, nephew.” According to his long drawl, he's definitely smirking and he more than likely heard you. “I'm so sorry to bother you this early. Baby 5 needs your lovely novia to be a bridesmaid, if that's okay. Her friend couldn't make it, and there's a surprise groomsman who can't walk unaccompanied down the aisle, but she’ll explain all the boring details.” His chuckle seems ominous and foreboding. “I was going to drop the dress at the door but… I heard you were awake, so…”

His words linger in the air, and, even though there's no chance he can see you because Law is blocking his vision, you shrink in the bed and blush crimson. You had been very vocal about your pleasure, trusting Cora’s assurance that you have your own wing of the mansion. You just weren't expecting guests this early. You're horrified. 

You see Law leaning in to accept a dress from his uncle’s hands. “Sure, thanks.” Law's voice is clipped but affected. “Bye.” He closes the door, but Doflamingo wedges a foot in so he can't close it completely. 

“I’ve had a tough time waking up today, what with all the partying last night… but it’s no wonder you look so awake, Law. If I had someone cry my name and make all those pretty noises for me, I wouldn't have needed two cups of coffee already.” He purrs softly, his obnoxious laughter lingering in the hallway as you hear Law growl. This is mortifying! Anyone else would pretend they didn't hear anything! But Doffy had to rub it in your face. You sink further into the bed.

“Get lost, Doffy!” Law's voice is a mix of anger and frustration as he pushes the door against his uncle's foot. 

“Oh, come on, nephew, don't take offence by my comment. It was a compliment, you clearly take to my side of the family.” Doflamingo’s laugh echoes down the corridor as he finally removes his foot, allowing Law to close the door, grunting in dissatisfaction before he finds you hiding in an embarrassed ball under the covers. 

Then his frustration simmers into light amusement as he calls your name. “Have you combusted into ash from embarrassment, or will I find you in one piece if I lift these covers?”

You chuckle at his attempt to lighten the mood but don't emerge from your cocoon. “God, Law!” A giggle escapes your lips. “He's terrible!”

You face a pair of amused eyes when Law slowly peels the sheet from over your head. “He just loves to get a rise out of people, he thrives on getting reactions.”

“How am I going to face him later?” You groan, then immediately pout at Law, gently swatting him in the arm. “It's your fault! He wouldn't have heard anything if we were just cuddling innocently.”

Law's smirk sends a spark of need through you, and you swallow hard. “Sweetheart, I'm never going to apologise for making you scream my name again and again. In fact, I encourage it.” He leans over your form and takes your lips in his in a slow, languid kiss. You can still taste the remnants of your arousal on his tongue and that only makes you moan. “Are you up for an encore?”

Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him down for another kiss, but you groan into him in frustration. “I think my performance was worthy of a Tony. No encore needed. Besides, we need to shower, we have a wedding to attend to.”

Law chases your mouth with his, not letting you go so easily. “The shower works, too. Better acoustics.” Your giggle gets lost in another kiss as he lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom. 

You’ll get to showering, eventually.

-*-

The dress Baby 5 sent you fits almost perfectly, but there’s a note attached to it that says to meet her and the other bridesmaids in her room for a final fitting. The dress is burgundy - a colour you’ve seen throughout all the decorations - and, surprisingly, it actually looks good on you, despite your earlier grimace. It’s tasteful and elegant. 

Law is taking you to Baby 5’s room since you have no idea where it is, and he’s already complimented your appearance twice. 

“Here you are.” He stops in front of a door and smirks. “I can’t stop ogling you, you look perfect.” 

A light blush creeps into your cheeks. “You need to stop that, Law. I’ll become obnoxiously conceited.” He chuckles with you. “Head down to breakfast, I’ll meet you soon.” With a languorous kiss that sends all the butterflies in your stomach into early flight, he leaves you and you enter the bride’s room. 

“Honey, you made it! Oh, the dress looks amazing on you!” Baby 5 is wearing a white silk robe, and her hair is already done, she looks beautiful. After a quick hug, she spins you around, assessing you. “Maybe a little tighter here in the waist? We want the ‘ladies’ to pop up!” She giggles as she refers to your breasts. 

When the seamstress starts to work on your dress, Baby 5 introduces you to the rest of her friends - it’s a party of six, including you - and explains why she needs you.

“You’re a lifesaver, really. My friend had to cancel last week because she got into an accident - she’s fine! But she broke her hip and couldn't come. And then Sai’s groomsman had already cancelled as well - something about a business commitment he had to attend - except yesterday, all of a sudden, he called saying he was free and could attend!”

You keep nodding and moving as the seamstress asks you to, feeling a bit like a dress-up doll. 

“So now I had a groomsman walking the aisle alone! That can’t happen! This has to be a perfect wedding. I was ready to tell Sai that one of the groomsmen needed to already be at the altar when my father suggested I ask you!” 

It was Doflamingo’s suggestion? A chill runs through your spine at the thought. You need to be on alert, then. This could be something else he planned to try and test you.

“Well, I’m really flattered by the invite. And happy to help, you’ve been so welcoming to me.” You’re being truthful, Baby 5 treated you immediately as a friend. 

The seamstress finishes the slight adjustments, and you parade for the bride at her request. She’s dressed in a simple white dress, just for breakfast. She’ll change into her wedding gown after.

“Perfect. You look beautiful. Has my taciturn cousin said so already? Or do I need to bonk him on the head?” You smile and blush a little at her comment. 

“He said it more than once, actually.”

“You two make me gag. You’re so cute!” She laughs. “I saw the photographs on the camera yesterday!” She sighs. “I’m so glad Law found someone who can make him that happy.” Baby 5 grabs your hands. “Thank you. Now, off to breakfast, we can’t delay the schedule.”

-*-

You come down for breakfast that, much like yesterday's brunch, is being served outside. It takes you a minute to find Law, but, as soon as you make eye contact, Doflamingo wanders near you with a wolfish grin. 

“Hello, princesa.” You blush, thinking about what he heard in the morning. “I hope you are well rested.” Your eyebrow shoots up, and he looks to Law, who's approaching you both. “No time for small talk, though, such a shame. Have you told my nephew about Vinsmoke yet? Because you should have done it.” You lock eyes with Doffy's terrifying red gaze. 

You completely forgot to bring that up. Ichiji was the last thing on your mind yesterday, but if Doffy is bringing him up right now... that can only mean…

“Oh well, now it's too late. Hi, Law!” Doffy exclaims just as Law approaches and places his hand on the small of your back, pulling you toward his side. “So glad you're here. Sai’s groomsman has just arrived, and he wants to say hi to you.”

No, no, no, no…

“To me?” Law asks as he scans you over, not missing the erratic breaths leaving your lips or the worried look on your face. Your hand falls limp against his chest, fingers grasping his shirt for support.

“Well, to both of you, actually, being an old friend and all.”

You gasp, your throat constricting as the pounding in your heart increases. A wave of dizziness makes you wobble as you grasp onto Law. It can't be! 

No, no, no, God no. 

“Remember Vinsmoke Ichiji?” Doffy's words are slow and calculated, his gaze lingering on your face. Law looks at you with a raised brow, his grip tightening on your waist since you're clearly not well. 

Your heart drops to your stomach, and it’s so overwhelming that all the blood drains from your face. You can’t stop your eyes from meeting his. He looks as manipulative and imposing as you remember him to be: Tall, dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, fiery red hair coiffed back, and that damn, smug smirk on his lips. You lose strength in your legs again, the air escaping your lips comes in ragged gasps. This cannot be happening. 

“Hello, Doll. Long time no see, you look stunning as ever.”

“Without me, you're useless! Just a pretty face, like a little doll.”

“Be a good Doll for me and be quiet. I have business to take care of.”

“Doll, you don't know better than me! Stop acting like it!”

“Yes, Doll. Don't worry. Tears are just a sign of weakness. We can't all be strong.”

“Doll.”

That damn nickname. You suck in a shaky breath, your body tight with tension. You can barely look away from Ichiji's piercing gaze, too trapped in the awful memories of the past, but you notice Law out of the corner of your eye. 

He looks at you, then at Ichiji, and you can actually see the flicker of recognition when he puts two and two together. Why didn't you tell him earlier? How's he going to react now? 

“Inconvenient as always, Vinsmoke, I see. She's not your ‘doll’.” Law moves his arm from your waist to your shoulders and pulls you closer to him. “She’s my girlfriend.”

What was it? Four months…? Five? Something around that, for sure. Nearly half a year without looking at him, and he still has this strange hold on you. You can barely breathe, it’s as if the world has been tipped off its axis and you’re falling indefinitely. 

“Trafalgar Law… well, she is used to the fine things in life, obviously, she would seek someone who could provide her safety and comfort. I just didn’t think she would downgrade that much.” 

Is he trying to paint you as a gold digger? This has got to be Doflamingo’s work. Law grips your shoulder, and you find your feet. “You wish you were half the man Law is, Ichiji.” You seethe, venom dripping from your words, even though you can feel yourself shaking like a leaf. 

“I love it when you talk back, Doll. It’s so much more satisfying when you finally break.”

“We’re done here.” Law lowers his arm and grabs your hand firmly, turning you both away from the scene as Doffy watches from the sidelines, a glint of amusement behind his tinted glasses. The look Law gives Ichiji before parting is cold and dangerous, and you take pride in seeing Ichiji’s smirk falter slightly before Law guides you away from the scene and into the house.

When you find an empty hallway, your heart starts pounding at an increased pace, the ringing in your ears is unbearable, and you lean against the wall, closing your eyes shut and covering your ears. 

You can make out Law saying something in the background, but you’re trying so hard to keep it together. One… breathe in. Two… breathe out.

Then two strong arms envelop you, and you're pressed against Law’s chest. The next inhale you take smells like home: Law’s cologne and that characteristic ‘doctor scent’ he carries of disinfectant. Pungent, warm, comforting. 

Gradually, you relax your body, your hands finding purchase against Law’s chest as he rubs soothing circles against your back. When your breath normalises, Law lifts your chin so he can look at you, and the care in his eyes almost breaks you again. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s alright. I’m here.”

You nod softly. If it weren’t for Law’s presence, an encounter with Ichiji would’ve triggered a full-blown panic attack. “I’m sorry, Law, I’m so sorry! I meant to tell you who my ex was, but… but… I wasn’t trying to hide it, there’s nothing to hide! I just…”

“Were you scared about how I would react?”

“I was embarrassed…” You sigh, holding his gaze in yours. “I figured you must know Ichiji, and he’s… well, he’s not the most wonderful person in the world… I just… it’s silly, but I was afraid you’d judge my choice.”

Law cups your cheek and smiles softly at you. “I understand why you avoided speaking about him. Hell, how could we know he would show up at my cousin’s wedding?”

“Your uncle came to me yesterday, saying he knew who I was and that, since I had dated Ichiji and now you, it was clear that I was only after money. He realised Ichiji was my ex, so he was definitely the one who brought him into the wedding.” You sigh again and clutch Law’s coat. “I should’ve told you yesterday, but we kept getting interrupted and then…” You blush slightly. “Then we got distracted, and Ichiji was nowhere near my mind.”

Law smirks and leans in, his mouth inches from yours. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I would never judge you, you know that. I know I’ve made poor choices in past relationships. What matters is what we have now. And neither my uncle nor fucking Vinsmoke Ichiji can ruin that.”

“Right.” You agree. 

“Right.” He takes your lips in his, and you sigh into the kiss. Just his touch is enough to calm the rest of your fears. “I got you.”

“I know.”

“I’ll speak with Baby 5 about you walking the aisle. There’s no need for you to accompany him.” That’s right! Realisation strikes you suddenly. He is probably the groomsman who had cancelled and showed up last-minute, and since you’re filling in for the bridesmaid, you’re the one supposed to accompany him.

“I…” You start, almost agreeing to Law’s suggestion. But then you remember Baby 5’s words and how excited she was about having the perfect wedding. She’s been so kind to you and welcoming. You don’t want to ruin her perfect day. “I can do it. I don’t want to ruin her day, Law. It’s just a walk.”

You’re trying to convince yourself more than you’re trying to convince him. And he immediately picks up on your uneasiness as his brow rises and that crease in his forehead makes its appearance. 

“You don’t have to do it.” The caress he lays on your cheek is gentle. “I’m the one who brought you to this wedding, your encounter with Ichiji is partially my fault. I really don’t want to put you through this if I can avoid it.”

His hand feels warm as you take it in yours with a - hopefully - encouraging smile. “Even if I could go back and do it all over again, knowing I would have to encounter Ichiji, I wouldn’t change a thing, Law. The time with you, our connection… I wouldn’t change it.”

The look of pure warmth he shows you is enough to set the kaleidoscope of butterflies that live in your stomach aflutter again. Will there ever be a time when you can tame them down? 

“I got this, Law. I do. I need to overcome my anxiety. Ichiji can’t hurt me anymore.” You try to sound sure, but just thinking about the task ahead churns your stomach in a very wrong way, nothing like the butterflies of earlier. 

“Are you sure?” He asks, a little skeptical, and you can see a flicker of something else in his eyes. From the way he’s gripping you, you’d risk it being just about him being overly protective. But you nod, and he sighs. “Okay, then. You know I trust you can do this. If you need support, keep your eyes on me. I’ll be there for you.”

You nod again in a reassuring way. It’s comforting to know he’ll always be there for you. 

-*-

You had breakfast with Law but barely ate, your stomach twisting and turning with uneasiness, even though Law kept trying to lighten the mood, to bring you out of your self-imposed funk. But you just wanted to get this ‘walking down the aisle’ business out of your mind. Besides, it was completely unfair for Law to be this worried about you. 

“Are you sure?” He asks you again at the door to Baby 5’s room, where you’re going to help her with the final preparations before you all go down to the tents. Law's voice is back to being cool and clipped, and the creasing between his brows has intensified. 

“I'll be alright, Law. It's just a walk. And you'll be there.”

He kisses your temple and caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Damn right, I will.”

You smile at him, and he parts with a lingering kiss on the lips. Damn, how are you supposed to last the rest of the day without proclaiming your love to him? 

“See you soon, sweetheart.” 

As you enter Baby 5’s room, you feel all the dread returning and weighing heavily on your chest. You can do this. It’s just a walk. 

Around half an hour later, the bridesmaids and the groomsmen are gathering outside the tent. There’s a pop song playing in the background, and your heart seems to be pounding at the same rhythm as the frenzied electronic tempo. The wedding planner asks the bridesmaids and the respective groomsmen to get into position, and the song turns to a slower one. 

“I know I've said it before, Doll, but you do look stunning.” You keep your eyes trained forward and focus on evening out your breaths. “But then again, you always did. Remember the dresses I used to buy for you? You left them all at our house.” 

Closing your eyes, you will your heart to beat normally. Slowly, regularly. Law. You need to focus on Law. 

Ichiji takes a step closer to you, and the scent of his cologne starts a spiral of bad memories. They all rush so hard and fast that you get dizzy and wobble on your feet. He reaches out and steadies your arm, his touch burning and searing through your bare flesh. 

With a hiss, you pull back your arm, silently thanking the wedding gods for placing you at the end of the entourage. “Touch me again, Ichiji, and I swear to God I will stab your hand with the cake knife.”

There. It sounded so cold and threatening that Law would be proud. But Ichiji just lets out an icy chuckle. 

“Feisty. There's the fire that made my loins burn.” His whisper is hot against your ear, and you will your eyes to remain glued to the first bridesmaid. She just entered the tent. “The fire that burned so hot until I tamed it down. Remember?”

“Leave me the fuck alone, Ichiji. We're done. The only reason I'm next to you is because I like and respect Baby 5. Otherwise, I would be nowhere near you.”

Another couple down the aisle. Almost there. Almost. 

“There are so many things you can't do by yourself, you need me. Trafalgar can't give you what I can.”

Third couple down the aisle. Almost, almost. You grit your teeth, refusing to answer more of his taunts. 

“You can't tell me that Trafalgar is better than me, right, Doll?”

Nope. Can't take it. 

“He is a hundred times better than you could ever aspire to be! He is kind, honest, good–...”

“That’s bullshit. You don’t need kind, Doll, you need firm, strong–..”

“Shut up, Ichiji. You never knew what I needed, never even made an effort to learn. We are done. I don’t want to speak with you anymore. Leave me alone!”

The fourth couple enters the tent, and sweat begins dampening your forehead. You can feel your heartbeat skyrocketing and your pulse quickening. One… breathe in. Two… breathe out.

“I’m willing to learn. I’ve changed.” As if! Three… breathe in. Four… breathe out. “I can’t stand to see you with someone else. When Donquixote called me and said you were dating his nephew… I trembled with rage.”

So it had been Doflamingo! Five… breathe in. Six… breathe out. Has the sun somehow turned brighter? Focus! You have to focus. Fifth couple in, you’re next. Seven… breathe in. Eight… breathe out. 

“You were mine once. You can be mine again.”

“Alright, cue. It’s your turn, go!” The wedding planner speaks to you and Ichiji. Nine… breathe in. Ten… breathe out. The tent flap opens up, and you immediately find Law. His eyes are already glued to yours, and as you let out a loud sigh, your heart rate resumes at a slower, more regular pace. 

Ichiji extends his arm for you to take, and you take another last inhale before giving him a look full of fire and fury. “You might’ve had my body, and you might’ve controlled me, but you never had all of me, and you never will. I will never be yours, Ichiji.”

You refuse his extended arm and start to walk down the aisle in time with the song, as per Baby 5’s request. Locking eyes with Law, you block everything around you. There’s only you and him. 

And nothing else matters.

Tag List:@rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @rainbow2312 @alexturnersgirl

|Chapter 14🔞|

[softie00]

TO THE MOON 🌙

pairing; lee know x reader

warnings; fluff, established relationship, minho is away so long distance, bunch of texting and calls, reader feeling a bit upset, lil angst, crack, brat reader, humour, teasing, minho showing appreciation, love gestures, images, use of jagi, birthday wishes and a surprise.

words; 2k+

a/n enjoy for whoevers birthday that comes by❣

summary; it's your birthday, minho asked what you wished to have only for you to ask for something which is quite the impossible, or is it not when you have such a considerate lover?

[Minho💜] how are you feeling jagi?

[Minho💜] omg it's your birthday soon!!!

[Minho💜] im going to make sure im the first person to wish you ok

You smiled as you glanced at the text messages your boyfriend Minho was sending right now, it was your birthday in a few hours and you couldn't wait to get wished by him.

[You] just missing you babe 🥺 wish u was here

[You] hehe you better be 😤 or else

[Minho💜] we'd be seeing each other tommrow finallyyy then i can wish you properly, hug kiss you and everything

You bite your lip, you cannot wait for it either. It's been way to long without his presence.

[Minho💜] ofc baby how could i forget my precious jagi's birthday?

You're grinning in excitment at the thoughts of Minho finally arriving and immediately rushing to hug you tight. His kisses which you miss very dearly will soon be on your skin.

[You] I've missed you so much minho I can't wait 💗 ur so cute

Delivered

God it's been so long since you both have met up, his busy schedule unfortunately requires him to be out of the states often leaving to you both just texting, face time and phone calls.

Though lately it's been a bit less. And you know he's busy. It's not fair to blame him but sometimes you just miss having Minho near you, where you can wrap yourself in to his arms.

You're more excited about seeing your boyfriend than anything else, really. But seeing him say these words warm up your heart and reduce any negative thoughts you've had.

He loves you. He does. He says it everyday without doubt.

You remember one time Felix slyly captured a picture of Minho looking completely immersed through his phone screen late at night.

And when Felix peeked up and see what was keeping his attention, oh it was you.

[Felix] yo y/n

[Felix] ur man is whipped

[You] ??

[You] what happened now

[Felix] he's looking at pics of both of u

[Felix] before he goes to sleep what a sap

image.1

[Felix] don't tell him I told u

[You] omg...

[You] that's so cute ??

After that thanks to Felix, you realised how deeply Minho loves you. Not that he doesn't say it, of course he does. But there are moments where he sometimes shows love in other ways which only makes you endear him more. And ofcourse Minho got teased for it by the members which made him fluster.

All you could think of during that time is how badly you want to be near him. To hold him, touch him, cuddle him. To tell him how loved he is with your gentle kisses. Your poor little heart couldn't stop looking at that image sent, to know your boyfriend religiously looks at your images/videos together before he falls asleep, making your heart melt.

To know after his long scheduled days he still finds time for you. Minho always made sure he did, you was his life. His routine starts with you and finishes with you, despite the distance. If only you knew how much energy he gets just by seeing your angelic face.

His worries all wash away. Having a bunch of dance choreographys to do and memorise can become very challenging some days more than others, however during those moments he turns his phone screen on and looks at his wallpaper of the two of you for ease.

As you watch the time tick closer to 12, some thoughts creep back in. Will he be the first to wish you? What if he falls asleep since it's so late there? The constant thoughts begin to form. He didn't reply back to your last message, so what if he has gone to sleep.

If only things were different and the two of you were in close proximity right now.

You sighed whilst watching the time, it's already 11.59pm yet no sign of any message from Minho at all.

Maybe he has gone to sleep.

You know he's always over working, right?

He barely catches a break.

It's okay, it's okay. He can do it tommrow morning too. Even that works.

You muttered to yourself, trying to convince yourself for the lack of response. But you won't lie how it would upset you when he mentioned he would do it.

Already you felt sick of your thoughts constantly watching the screen. You took a deep breath, closing your phone screen whilst you leave it on the table.

Just as you try to walk off and shift your mind, until your phone rings.

Incoming call Minho💜

You immediately jump. Your heart is speeding at the sudden ringing. He called. At exactly 12am. Letting out a little, no loud squeak as you jump around the room. You finally try to calm yourself down with some breaths.

Moving your thumb over to accept the call and talk, Minho has started already singing away.

"Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday my precious darling lovely angel Y/N, happy birthday to youuuuu." Minho managed to whip out despite having the others in his room, which all you could think of is how deep his voice sounds, smiling away.

God, your heart still is pacing fast. Thanks to Minho's sweet but deep voice during this time for making you heated.

"Minho, thank you s-so so m-much." You stuttered, feeling so much overwhelmed at this given moment. However, Minho can tell there's a bit of hesitance to your words. "Y/N is everything okay?" He asks genuinely.

How are you meant to tell him that you thought he wouldn't wish you, feeling like you sound stupid, you huffed, scratching the side of your neck, "N-Nothing babe it's just silly.."

"Nothing is silly, tell me jagi."

"Well I don't even know what to say," you chuckled, "I guess I miss you very much Minho. And because these days we speak a bit less, I thought maybe you won't wish me tonight."

Minho instantly felt his heart sank at your words. Unfortunately with their new album and releases, he's had less time to be talking and he wishes he could just change that and return to you.

"I'm so sorry precious, but I love you. Even if I had to stop my work in order to wish you, I would. I could careless about that stuff, I care about you."

You felt a slight tear drop down, screw your hormones for feeling extra emotional today. You speak up slowly, "Thank you for being so sweet Minho." You try to lighten to mood up, "But that was proven wrong when I heard my phone ring and I just ended up jumping around like crazy-"

"Fuck how cute can you get?" He laughs, imagining you just looking cute as ever jumping around. "Now tell me, was I the first to wish you?" He asks cockily, he loves to be the first that does everything with you.

"Yes babe." You excitedly answer.

You can't see his smile but he is smiling, real hard right now.

"That's good, because I wanted to be the first to wish you and tell you how amazing you are, how blessed I am to have you in my life. You make my life, Y/N. Morning and night all I think of is you. Your cute giggles, your beautiful smile that can turn a bad day to good. Having your arms around my waist while you cutely snuggle. Your mind, your laughter, your presence. Everything about you Y/N, is special."

God, you feel like tearing up again. You sometimes think what you did to deserve such a wonderful boyfriend who cares about you so much and always reassuring you.

"Minho, you're going to make me cry for being this cute." You whined, voice becoming softer.

"I know, you're upset I'm not there right now but Y/N, I promise I will be there soon. God I can't wait to take you out to different places and feed you, buy you gifts and give you all my love and kisses." He expresses with love, as he thoughts of tommrow come seeing you all cute and dressed up for him.

"Ughhhh im so excited, I just need you right now babe," You whined cutely. You cannot wait for it all either, to be with the love of your life and spend your lovely day.

"Me too Y/N, but still is there any gift you'd like to have?" He asks gently, Which makes you ponder and maybe you do want to tease him a little too.

"Can I get anything?" You raised a brow.

"Of course love. Anything you want." He affirms, only for you to tease him.

You responded, "Hmmm, can you get me the moon?" As you bit your bottom lip to suppress a laugh.

Minho felt slight confusion at your wish, "The moon?"

"With my name on it." You proposed. "Saying Y/N is the best."

Minho cackled as his hand brushes past his hair, "Baby I don't think that's possible to get. It's beyond our reach." He explains on, only for you to stay stuck on it.

"But you said you'd get me anything I want!"

Honestly you live for teasing your boyfriend a lot. If only you could see his face right now, you'd burst out. So you continue further.

"Yes but unfortunately I'm not that financially stable to get that for you, Y/N." He sighs cutely. I mean, if he was a billionaire then sure that could be sorted.

"Hmmm, they always said if he wanted to he would," You frowned as you roll your eyes playfully. And maybe it worked, because all he's doing right now is twirling his soft hair thinking thoughts.

"Y/N you're so stubborn babe," He groans feeling defeated.

But suddenly replies, "Actually give me a minute or 2 I'd be back."

Oh? Did you perhaps say something wrong? Did someone wake up? Did you take it too far?

Maybe you shouldn't have said this when it's so late in time for him.

Which made you quickly try to redeem yourself, "Minho i was just joking babe." But you find yourself with no response at all.

A minute seems like eternity when you're overthinking but thankfully you're able to hear some shuffling now from his end which means he's still around.

30 seconds

60 seconds

Still nothing.

God, why was you feeling so nervous all of a sudden? You start to walk around your room, trying to wait and think of what Minho could possibly be doing.

Why is time suddenly moving so slow?

The nerves got you biting your nails, phone placed against your ears waiting for Minho voice already.

2 minutes passed. Nothing. You walk around in circles, until your ears perked up at his deep voice.

"Check your messages right now," He ordered, returning back only to make you feel even nervous. Now it's gotten you thinking what could it be.

"I'm scared now" You slightly giggle as you bite your nail but Minho was reassuring you once again. "Don't be baby, just check."

"Alright."

You start to flick through your phone and opened up your text message thread between you both, only to be left stunned.

[Minho💜]

[Minho] ahhhh jagi I'm in space

[Minho] this is so fun

[Minho] wait let me focus

You looked at the texts sent and felt so confused, trying to decipher his messages.

[You] babe what's going on ??

[You] im confused

[You] minho are u drunk

Minho typing...

[Minho] no im not drunk!!

[Minho] wait

[Minho] img.3

[Minho] im there jagi

[Minho] damn im floating this is so cool

The way you just burst in to a laughter fit. Minho always had a funny sense of humor but this was absolutely hilarious. What even is this game, you thought.

[You] omg why are u like this

[You] babe I'm laughing so hard u look so cute in that fit

[Minho] because someone decided to be a brat 🤨

[Minho] thank u jagi, i look pretty handsome dont i

[You] excuse meeee

[Minho] just got hit on the head by an asteroid

[You] HAHAHAHA

[Minho] u think this is funny??

[Minho] i am suffering

[You] karma sweetie 😘 maybe it'll help u think straight

[Minho] how dare youuu

[Minho] are u implying im stupid

You giggled as you continue poking fun at your boyfriend, he's just so cute.

[You] yes stupid

Minho is typing...

[You] stupid for me <33

[Minho] brat

[Minho] im getting closer to the moon now, had a fight off with jupiter

[You] oh really babe

[You] did u win

[Minho] ofcourse I am on a mission for my jagi i gotta fight for you 😤

[Minho] img.6

[Minho] ha beat his ass

[You] where is the moon then

[Minho] patience jagi

[Minho] don't be a brat

[You] hehe I'm waiting ❣ patiently

[Minho] good girl

You cheeks flared at the pet name, waiting for more details on your boyfriend's little adventure.

[Minho] ahhhhhhh

[Minho] went thru so much to get this 🥲 u ready?

[You] im ready

You don't really know what he was asking you for, playing along with him as he continues only be be left rather surprised.

[Minho] img.5

He did not.

Your mouth opened wide in shock, eyes bulged out in admiration what's on your screen. A gush of wind almost pushing you away, having to maintain composure with a hand on the table for support. Your face flushed in heat whilst you smiled, ears turning red. You was gasping for air, as the jolt flew all around your body.

You can't believe Minho just, did that.

As your still lost in daze, your phone is making a bunch of sounds which was the only thing to snap you back into reality. The vibrations along with your own, your shakey hands places the phone back on your ear.

"You told me to fetch the moon so I fought with the stars, I brought it with your name written across." He continued on speaking already causing you to burst. Your boyfriend was this romantic? "Since your my moon, will you help me find the way back to your heart?" He flirts, causing you to have one massive meltdown.

You gasped so hard with a fluttering heart, "Fuck fuck, Minho I'm so lost for words- my god. This is so... wow... I can't even begin to express the words.. you did this? For me?" your voice getting soft in fondness for the gift. Not only do you feel butterflies but the entire zoo. You're visibly shaken, a hand creeping over your mouth.

You've never had anyone do this. Never anyone who went out their way to do such sweet gesture. This was probably the most wholesome gift you've had. Not thinking your boyfriend just playing a random game would be so sweet?

And that's why Minho left you for a little whlle. He wanted to give you this joy out of love. God, he only had wished he could get the moon itself.

He grins, "Of course Y/N, it's your birthday and your wish is my command jagi.''

"I was just being a brat babe." You sighed quietly, only being playful with him not expecting anything at all.

"And i like it when you're being a brat," he truthfully answered, making you instantly feel flustered. "So did you like it?"

"Liked is an understatement because this just made me fall for you a thousands times more than I ever did, really Minho. I'm so fucking happy yet shocked- this is perfect the most wholesome gift I've received, i am so so grateful to have such a considerate partner."

Minho tugged his ear, you was just as amazing he thinks. But he wanted to tease you, "You better be, my head still hurts getting hit ahhhh." He whines loudly, making you laugh at his dramatic side.

"I am very very happy" you continue before placing the phone above your lips sending a kiss, "Here's a kiss for your cute head." If only you saw the way he was grinning right now, scratching his head.

And that's what he wanted, to see you so so happy that you never feel any kind of emotion except happiness. He felt satisfied knowing you liked the gift.

"Good, because i'm so happy that you're happy babe. You deserve this and so much more. God I wish I could get the actual-"

You quickly interrupted him because what could be better than this? "Nope, babe this is the best thing ever ok? I love you so much Minho, thank you for everything you do." You expressed wholeheartedly.

A smile crept on to his face, feeling the warmth of your love, "You're wonderful Y/N, so cute and kind. I love you." He professed.

"To the moon?" You giggle.

"And back."

do not copy, plagiarise translate my works or ideas. copyright ©2023 softie00

[obviousniklr]

Haven't drawn these characters in a long time 😭

But here's some of my Modern OCs

• Team Skull

A seemingly normal adventure team doing missions/jobs, but under the surface they have a much darker agenda in operation.

Fynx the Red Panda. The leader of Team Skull. He's a conniving and clever red panda who takes what he wants, does what he wants, with a seemingly charming yet deceiving demeanor. He vows to reawaken the power of the Red Zircon one day and reign supreme over every mobian.

Scratch the Raccoon, a selfish and aggressive punk who is very loyal to Fynx. Being the only one who picked him up when nobody wanted him, and gave him a prosthetic arm, Scratch vows his life to Fynx believing that he would have a glorious life under his rule.

And Timothy (Tim) the Tiger, a strong but gentle bodyguard of Fynx. When they first met, Timothy owed him for helping him out on a family disagreement, and saving his life from a near-to-death accident. Now, he ventures with Fynx to repay him but was it the right choice? Knowing Fynx' true intentions now, Tim regrets it. He wants to be set free from his grasp but unfortunately, he knows how dangerous Fynx could be, that he can slit his throat at any moment and leave him to die alone, so he's trapped being his bodyguard. Forever silenced until someone breaks, or pulls him out to safety

• An update on Iyro's Black Quartz look.

Oh right, I haven't told it yet here, but Iyro used to be in a delinquent group called Black Quartz. He joined mainly to have friends, but when he realized they were doing bad deeds, he starts feeling doubtful about his decision. He wants to leave but he doesn't want to let the members of the group, those who needs his strength, down.

• K3io brothers

Three brothers who only rely on each other. After their mother died from an illness 6 years ago, Ron has been trying to keep his brothers safe, and well sheltered, taking on random jobs to offer help. Now at the current time, they work as a guild team in Stone Guild, taking on many kinds of jobs in the wild.

Ron, the eldest of the three, is very reliable and assertive. Always looking out for his brothers. Has a knack for card and board games, and is somewhat bashful towards women.

Ry, the middle child, is a rowdy and thrill seeking doggo. He likes everything cool and daring. He even wants to be a hero one day and beat-up bad guys. He can get in trouble at times, injuring himself, being a bit reckless which leads to Ron scolding him alot for doing something stupid or dangerous. But over all that fiery passion for something exciting, he still cares about his brothers. Worries about Ron whenever he overworks himself or blames himself for not earning enough, only for the next day Ry surprises him with money to buy food (yet Ron also doubts Ry could've stolen it), and looks out after Rio whenever it's just them too, eventhough he prefers to do something else, he still cherish Rio and gives him candy.

And lastly Rio, the youngest of the brothers. Eventhough he wasn't able to experience abit of school like his brothers did, he still likes learning about the world around him. He has an imaginative mind and an optimistic and warm heart. Eventhough he doesn't know the harshness of reality yet, he still want to help his brothers on their work so they can eat yummy foods, and see them all happy together.

A bit of an Easter egg but here's Ron in the Future as well.

In the future, Ron decided to move to a corporate job instead. Though seemingly impossible since he stopped schooling at an early age, he found his chance when he saw a project hiring people without a diploma and just basing their qualifications on their capabilities. Ron studied hard and managed to get a position. Now he works at the same office Alan (Juliet's dad) works in.

(an explanation to the last pic) When Bony went to Alan's office to deliver him a letter of consent for his daughter, since she does work in their guild afterall, for a group camp/expedition, she coincidentally recognizes a familiar blue dog. Same can be said to Ron when he saw Bony. They haven't since each other in a long time since the brothers left Stone Guild. After that reunion, they decide to catch up, see what the other's lives has been up to.

[cassyapper]

okay im in the once in a lifetime mood to talk about my ocs so i will talk about ai (wip name)

most of this is old art forgive me but this is roughly what she looks like. her design is also still a wip but these r her basics. ignore the scar placement inconsistency

so her personality uh. She’s Got Issues. she was always a little funky (i think she has a personality disorder but im still figuring out which one) but things can really be traced back to the fact her home is raided during a war and she loses her baby brother (or so she thinks)

her brother got separated from her and their mother during the raid and despite her wanting to look for him her mother just picked her up and ran. her mom’s reasoning was she didnt want to lose two kids. like. it was an impossible situation. if they stayed they wouldve died, if they left ai hates her but at least shes alive. so she made a choice. ai never really forgave her for this. she misses her brother and has been searching for a decade to find…something. some sort of closure. a body or sign he made it or SOMETHING. he did survive btw (hes the guy next to ai in the first art) but this post isnt about him

anyway ai joins crusades/medieval military bullshit to basically use as a means to travel around trying to find said closure. shes been in it for a long time but she isnt very high ranked cause she just sucks at obeying orders lol. if shes under your command you better hope you get along cause otherwise she can be such a bitch

its not so much that she has issues with authority so much that she has issues with uh everyone. lol. shes very blunt and very smart and very antisocial so shes like impossible to deal with cause shes smart enough to figure out what annoys people and shes inclined to shamelessly act that way so people leave her the alone. she is crazy

that being said some people fall between the cracks of this and she gets really. hm. “friendly” isnt the right word but its the closest i can think of. with them. she has a little buddy named adelia that reminds her of her baby brother and a girl named Arha shes in a weird “im kinda in love with you kinda not” thing with (shes the mermaid in the second pic. debating if shes an actual mer person of sorts in canon. idk how fantasy-esque this is world is gonna be in the end)

ai’s story is kinda about. starting to live for yourself instead of a romanticized past esp once you get closure re that past. she’ll never become like. warm per se but she learns how to properly appreciate the people in her life such as adalia and arha. she learns how to let go and how it huuuuurts and how the tug might pull other parts of her loose too but shes not a fragile cliff face and she can survive it and more than thar she can be happy again

but she is always a bit of a bitch. cause its funny

uhh. yeah. heart

[blondbrat]

𐙚 christmas w/ matt head cannons

warnings ; suggestive content

HE LUVS CHRISTMAS !! acts all chill and ‘eh’ but his handsome lil heart flutters when it snows !! ‹𝟹 loves just being able to stay snuggly inside with his brothers and his girl :3

he’s DRAGGING u outside to play in the snow like a giddy boy !! ‹𝟹 But first making sure ur all wrapped up like a marshmallow 25 layers to many hehe smooching ur face all squished in ur snuggly hoods :)) ur pretty mouth mumbling as u waddle out the door ‘can’t let my pretty girl get cold!’ he’s so irritatingly perfect :((

he’s so rough in the snow :(( shoving u down laughing as he restles ur squirming body, cold snow landing on ur flush face as u whine !! ‘Matty!’ but he’s already laying smooches on ur chilly cheeks, making u feel all soft and fluffy inside !! ‹𝟹‹𝟹

HE IS UR CAMERA MAN !! ‹𝟹 ur personal instagram photographer as he grins cheeky, snapping pretty pics of u making snow angels in the snow, cuddling by the movie and OFC constantly wrapped in his cuddly arms, ur vibrant eyes looked so perfect in the Christmas posts :(( he just had to have ONE of u one ur dainty knees between his legs he has to hold himself back from posting his naughty angel.. ur flustered lips wrapped around his needy cock !! ‘only I get to truly see ur eyes baby girl’

spoiling u all winter long :)) all year long hehe his princess is going to target? He’s getting u a yummy peppermint mocha ‹𝟹 Going to bath and body works? he’s buying u every scent u sniff !! even tho you impossibly always smelled like cinnamon coco ‹𝟹‹𝟹

matts never gonna admit it but he luvs the lil christmas romance films u INSIST on watching, even though he’s being a whiny baby the whole time.. petty man !! watching u giggle at the cheesy scenes as he slyly slides up ur dewy thigh, watching u gape as ur pretty eyes snap to his ! U couldn’t even pay attention to the movie as he fingers find ur drooling folds :((‹𝟹

CHRISTMAS DAY !! MORNING SEX, MORNING SEX AHHH !!‹𝟹‹𝟹‹𝟹 hes waking his angel up 3 HOURS before morning !!! Just so he can savor your warm body, all sleepy and drowsy under his fluffy blankets. Ur plump lips tasting like hot coco ‹𝟹‹𝟹 how could he resist?? It’s ur first present after all !! And ur pussy just tastes so good. ur his Christmas breakfast after all hehe !!

LINGERIE GALORE. pink, frilly, lacy, silky etc etc. !! He wants to see u in it ALL :)) doesn’t even bother warning u as u tear it them open infront of Chris and Matt !! <3 UR SO EMMBARASSED :(( no ur not u love it

dresses up as a slutty santa just for his baby

[sordidmusings]

Started this yesterday but only got a short way when Life was Happening where I was struggling to read. Besides that I def take my time while reading 💀 and I'm glad to have done so so I can fully enjoy the writing instead of just breezing through it. Below are the inane rambles - some of the thoughts/reactions/yada yada yada lol

Comforting Shachi did things to my heart idk man 💀 bring comfort caretaker bring Big Joy 👌🏻 also wish I had the balls to give friendly kisses it’s one of my fav affectionate gestures and Shachi and Penguin need All Of Them

Law being perturbed by sinking to childish showboating and squabbling when in the supernova trio has always been a fav - it just makes it even funnier that he's self-aware but can't help it lol He do also need to know that if he lets it out in bursts when there won't be any true consequences, then it'll be easier to regulate when there are 👌🏻 Also been eternally crying over his need to reclaim a childhood. There are so many charas in One Piece that need this and his case but especially how coping with that lack of childhood manifested in him hits especially hard.

Brook was definitely not ready to get so much info for once in response to his greetin lol and I love the idea of him struggling to decide if he likes the idea of there being no info cuz there's no panties or if simply a color or style would have been better. Also the fact that he ups the ante immediately 👌🏻 love a man who when given an inch of attention will crave many miles 😩

I love that Penguin and Shachi are just immediately on board with helping reader fuck the skeleton 💀 truly beautiful enablers 👏🏻 Also, was wondering why the relationship with them was so kissy (not a complaint trust me lol) and it being for jealousy of a believably misinterpreted action is a good choice 👌🏻

Dressing nice, both in the outfit part and the lingerie part, for Brook would be so nice because you know for a FACT that man would appreciate the fuck out of it lol an absolute confidence boost is inevitable

It only hit be just now while reading this that Brook basically has a form of pic for the tip of each finger so when he plays guitar he could use them as such. To create the warm sound of finger picking and try to fight the more metalic tones that would come out of the strings with his fingers, he'd probably have to wear something. The first thing that comes to mind is leather gloves but that would still struggle to get the right timbre I think. The best it could be would probably be a thin layer of supple leather lined internally with a thick layer of cloth. My first thought was thick leather, but that would be near impossible to keep from being stiff especially when formed to the shape of fingers. The give of fingertips is really essential to the subtleties you can bring out when fingerpicking and it makes me sad to think of Brook trying to endlessly chase that 😭 Of course, like many of the things Brook does, the being a literal skeleton thing has its paradoxes for the sake of a better and smoother story so it is simply a very pedantic long ramble 💀 His soul or some shit makes it happen, just as it makes his voice possible with neither lips, tongue, nor vocal chords

It's so unbelievably sweet that songs reader adored while learning music and through her life were the work of Brook. I'd give my left leg to meet some of my favorite composers and would also very much fall head over heels if I heard them playing their works firsthand 🫠

Knowing he's playing classical I had to think of what to imagine him playing and ended up with a Basic Ass Choice 💀 It is of course Une barque sur l'océan - the title is broadly fitting for the whole pirate thing but It's also a piece that I think fits Brook well because of the section of struggle and despair towards the end, where the boat is alone and at the mercy of the ocean's whims. Of course the song is long and the harsh parts wouldn't quite fit The Vibe so if he did this one it would be smart as the pianist to just play roughly the fist half, using those flourishing arpeggios across the whole keyboard to create a solid enough final cadence

I HAVE A VERY DEEP NEED TO JOIN IN ON THE BUG GAMES YOU HAVE NO IDEA DUDE. Basically all my spiders would absolutely lose in this game, but I'd at leaast get to sow them off without it being me randomly gushing about arachnids to people 💀 If any are interested, my Colombian curtain web spider, Thigh Highs, is the only one of mine I think wouldn't freeze in terror, move at .0005 mph, or die of fright lol they are all such little Weenie Babies. (Came back up to this paragraph to add that I would simply Die if any of my babies entered the gladitorial matches, they are too precious to risk any harm 😭)

Hurdy-gurdy is such a fun choiiiiiiiiiice I love its sound and it holds its own really well irl in backing someone up

Brook's confession at yearning for lips to just receive a proper little kiss has me achinggggg 😭 My heart goes out to the dear dear man

A therapist using their skills for Evil to manipulate Brook into apologizing has me cackling ngl 💀💀💀

Also adore the mood at the end going back to the fun playfulness with Brook!! I think he's at some of his best when he's like that, it feels really natural and charming 🤍

Wonderful job as always love bug❣️❣️❣️

Parts You Left Behind

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 7,300+

Synopsis: You are the ship’s counselor aboard the Polar Tang. Giving your captain the permission he desires to behave idiotically with the two Nakama captains, you give yourself permission to behave with similar unbridled stupidity. The Soul-King Brook has your romantic attention: you love his energy and decide to reciprocate his flirtations, no matter how crass and distasteful they come across.

Themes: Brook x f!reader, therapist!reader x nakama-musician!brook, skeleton kisses, cheek kisses, platonic kisses, romantic kisses, angst, fluff, crews being themselves, validating feelings, requited love, flirtatious dialogue, talks of panties, heart-pirate!reader

Notes: this was meant to be a small drabble. And the same thing happens every time I try writing a small drabble - we end up with a full fic. Apparently I have a lot of angst inside about the Heart-Pirates that needed to get out, and also skeleton kisses. Posted a day late for the Skele-man's bday. Thank you to @sordidmusings and @since-im-already-here for helping me with boney kisses.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @vespidphoenix @carrotsunshine @cinnbar-bun @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff (sorry if you're all not into the skeleton. He needed some love)

The air shifted the weight of salt-forward air through the strands of fallen hair which whipped across your face. The docking of the three ships, joined together by ropes and beams, were thrust into the hull by a soft thump. Your crewmate Shachi instinctively reached for your forearm to steady himself on, gritting his teeth as he adjusted to the new altitude above deck.

“You alright there, big boy?” you cocked your head to the side as Shachi balanced himself on your forearm and the metal beam framing the deck. He hid his head from view, shooting you a swift gesture with his thumb to indicate his well being. You smiled at him, shifting his weight on your arm by weaving yourself beneath his shoulder. 

Rubbing soothing circles onto his back, you aided him in adjusting to the altitude difference, as he grew accustomed to life above the barrier of the oceanic waves. Being at lower altitude saved Shachi’s sea-sickness from the swell of waves, rocking his body and causing his stomach to lurch with every rise of the ocean surface. 

“I got you, sweety,” you cooed at your red-headed crewman, holding him steady as he holds back the rise of bile in his throat: refusing to open the floodgates to expel the contents of his stomach, “Take some deep breaths for me, hun. Big one in,” you breathed with him inwards for three seconds, holding it briefly, “And then out,” you exhaled with him.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Good job,” you praised him, feeling a shudder in his shoulders as he fought back the sickness in his stomach and mouth. You breathed with him a few more times, praising him on every inhale and exhale that he took with you. Once adjusting to the pattern of the swelling ocean, he turned to face you.

“It’s just hard, you know? Being under the water, then over it again,” he commented, leaning into your touch with his back arching beneath your palm, “It’s the rocking that does it for me. Just the constant rocking.”

“I dunno,” you shrugged beneath his shoulders with a bitten-back, downturned smile, “I don’t mind a bit of constant rocking from time to time.” 

Shachi expelled a roar of laughter accompanied with your own at your unbridled jest. He hooked his arm over your shoulder and teetered off into a light chuckle. You looked up at your crewmen beneath your shoulder and shot him a winning smile. He reflected the expression on your lips with one of his own. 

“There’s a few members of the Straw-Hat and Kid-Pirate crews, hun,” Shachi commented, gesturing to the ship that had docked with your own with the index finger of the hand around your shoulders, “Maybe you could find some constant rocking amongst a few of them.”

Your captain, Trafalgar Law, made you aware of all of the crew that served the Captain of the Thousand Sunny. The ever growing list of occupants never seemed to end: Captain Luffy, First-Mate Zoro, Navigator Nami, Marksman Usopp, Chef Sanji, Doctor Chopper, Archeologist Robin, Shipwright Franky, and finally, the Musician Brook. 

Your role as the counselor of the Heart-Pirates, executing your position with the utmost excellence, had you immediately drawn to advise your captain with the Nakama encounters with the Straw-Hat Crew. You knew a few members of the crew, the person you seemed to gravitate towards the most was Nico Robin. Her level-headed dimenure alongside her ability to balance the rapport of the crew was truly admirable.  

The other was the playful musician, Brook. The first time you met with the Straw-Hat “Brook,” you were truly ill-prepared for what was to come of it. Where a few people found his straightforward approach of flirting with the opposite sex repulsive, you found it quite endearing. When he performed his melodic compositions, you were entranced by his musicianship. You adored him, and would love to get to know him in the arena of flirtatious engagement. 

“We’ll see,” you smirked up at him, pressing a small, friendly kiss on your crewmate’s shoulder before you gave his waist a gentle squeeze, “How are we feeling, Shach?”

“A bit better,” he confirmed with a nod, looking over to the docked ship and their crewmen, “Just gotta focus on not locking my knees, and we’ll be all set.” He turned to look down at you, smirking with his eyes shrouded beneath his glasses. Leaning down, he pressed a small kiss on your forehead before breaking from the embrace. 

Shachi, Penguin and you were the closest amongst the Heart-Pirate crew. The seas were incredibly lonely, comfort being scantily found amongst one another aboard the crew. It started one night when the shifts were switching between the ‘am’ and ‘pm’ crews, your body reacting in its exhausted state within changeover.

“Nothing new to report here, just a small blip on the monitor indicating the arrival of a school of fish,” you yawned at Penguin, he nodded in understanding. 

“Alright then,” he confirmed, clapping a hand on your shoulder in his own dissociative and sleep-deprived state, “Get some rest. See you in a couple winks, honey.” You hummed in response, cupping his left cheek within your right hand and pulling his right cheek towards you.

“Night-night,” you uttered, pressing a small peck on his left cheek before turning to his redheaded shift-partner beside him, “Happy shift-watching,” you uttered, breaking contact with Penguin’s body before extending the height of your body by standing firmly on the tips of your toes. Grasping Shachi’s cheeks, you tilted his head to give him a gentle peck on his forehead before heading off to crew-quarters without any further explanation. 

After that moment, the three of you became as close as close friends could be. Jokes, playfulness and comradery were always openly expressed physically between the three of you. Should Captain Law make port, you would wingman for your special boys, just as they would absolutely reciprocate for you. Each time Law made a Nakama encounter, you would all be on the lookout for appropriate couplings for one another. 

“All crew: prepare to board,” your captain’s voice rang over the speakers with a soft crackle, “Reconvene aboard the Straw-Hat vessel. Counselor, to my side.”

Bowing a small nod and giving Shachi a final squeeze, you broke from your position within the arms of Shachi and made your journey to your position beside your captain. Both the Victoria Punk and the Polar Tang bound themselves against the Thousand Sunny: sandwiching the great lion figure between their own figureheads. 

Approaching your captain, you cupped your palm over his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. He huffed out an acknowledgement of your name and title while he bowed his head. 

“You wanted to see me, Captain?” you asked him, stepping into his peripheral view. He continued to have his head bowed low, pursing his lips into a straight line. You furrowed your brows, sinking lower to get a better gauge on his emotions.

“I have a confession, Counselor,” he nodded, opening his eyes and looking above his descended brow, “And I need absolutely no judgment other than the highest level of professionalism.”

“Understood, Sir,” you smiled, releasing his shoulder and quarrying your own as a way of depicting your full attention, “You will always have my ears, along with my complete attention.” He sighed in gratitude, tilting his chin to elevate his eyes upwards. 

“Being with those two captains makes me-...” he paused with a light scoff in his tone, “...-make awful decisions. It’s as if I am no longer in control of myself: always doing something to prove how much of a man I am to not only them, but to myself.” 

Nodding along to his confession, you wordlessly agreed with all points he raised regarding himself. You relaxed your stance, opting to remain more compassionate and empathetic while you listen to your captain speak. As of this moment, your captain was only a man - and one that desired to verbally process with his therapeutic confidant: you. 

“I put our very lives at stake with this utter stupidity,” he continued, shaking his head at himself as he uttered his confessions to you, “All I seem to do is share a single, joint brain cell with those two morons each time we meet. There are no intelligible thoughts I can call my own, only competition and idiocy seem to remain.” 

After taking several moments pause, Trafalgar D Water-Law waited patiently for you to offer a countenance for his predicament. You suddenly allow a warm smile to begin its rise on your lips.

“May I ask what our purpose is with docking with the Thousand Sunny and the Victoria Punk?” you pose your question as simply as you can. He furrows his brows, clicking his tongue in thought.

“It’s a simple exchange of information,” he confirms with you, eyeing your face as you receive this knowledge, “And to determine if our alliance should remain valid in its longevity.” You hum in response, pursing your lips before allowing that warmth to return to your features once more.

“Then I would suggest leaning into the so-called stupidity, sir,” you shrug, scrunching your nose before looking to the hull of the Thousand Sunny. Cyborg-Franky was tying up the rigging to secure the Polar Tang in position to ensure it didn’t slip away in the swell of water with the dark-haired Nico Robin beside him.

“Excuse me?” Law expressed his concern with a low tone, “Lean into it?” You hum emphatically, returning your gaze to meet with your captain. You shrugged nonchalantly, cocking your head to the side to get a better gauge on the emotions of your captain.

“We’re not in any danger here, sir,” you relay your translation of his objective, “We have no threats posed to us, that is not at the hands of one another. I doubt the other two captains and their crew would make any attack on our vessel here, if we’re all in a similar predicament.” 

Law stands quietly, interlacing his hands behind his back as he mulls your words over in his head. He inhales a deep breath, closing his eyes with his brow deeply furrowed in the center of his forehead. 

“If I also may, sir,” you add, stepping closer to your captain, “You are only twenty-six years old. You are young,” you dip your head down to capture his gaze, his eyes now reopened, “And from what we’ve discussed in our prior sessions together: the opportunity to behave like a child in your youth was taken from you by illness and cruel, tyrannical hands. You never truly had an opportunity to be stupid, Captain.” His small gasp was barely audible, eyes widening at you giving him permission to behave childishly.

“Then what would you suggest, Counselor?” He questioned you a final time, floating his gaze with the utmost seriousness between your playful eyes. 

“Allow the crew of the Polar Tang to switch out of their uniforms, and let us all be stupid together,” you smile at your captain, extending your hand up to clasp his shoulder once more, “You deserve to be stupid amongst friends. Even if it’s just for a little while. If it matters, as one of the few members of your crew you trust with the rank and title to dismiss you from active duty-...”

Law’s eyes never left yours as you softened your playful expression

“...You have my permission to be stupid, sir,” you quip with a small wink, releasing his shoulder from within your grasp and turning back to make eye contact with the Thousand Sunny’s archeologist. You give her a small wave and a broad smile, with a final word to the gloomy man by your side, “But really, the person who’s permission you truly need is your own. Give yourself the luxury of behaving like, as you say, ‘a moron’ for a few moments. See what happens.”

With that final word, Law dismissed himself from his place standing beside you and hurriedly scurried below decks to, presumably, his office. In his sessions with you, he has worked through a few hard truths, all of which resulted in him taking a few moments in isolation to allow the truths to sink in. This appeared to be such a moment as this; which left you, in his absence, to be the welcoming committee to both the Straw-Hat and Kid-Pirate crews and their Captains.

As you walked over the wooden plank used as a makeshift bridge between the vessels, Nico Robin offered you her hand to stabilize your footing as you stepped down onto the deck. Her radiant smile elevated her features, mirrored within your own. 

“Counselor,” she addressed you with the smooth hum of her voice. 

“Archeologist,” you acknowledged her title with a soft nod in your welcome, “Are we reduced to titles now? Shall I address all of you in such a manner?” Luffy smiled at you, his pearly teeth shining beneath his upturned eyes. 

“Where’s Traffy at?” Luffy asked loudly, his voice carrying over to alert the red-headed captain at the other side of the deck, “He not with you?”

“Unfortunately not. My captain is not available to conduct the preliminary introductions of our crews presently,” you relayed your practiced response, “Is there anything I can do to make this first step more comfortable for you while we wait, Captain Luffy?” you asked before turning to the taller man rapidly approaching, “Or you, Captain Kid?” you finished your question with a low bow and awaited their responses. 

“Nah,” Luffy shrugged, clapping his hands behind his neck and offering you a tight-lipped smile, “Welcome aboard, Counselor. Tell your crew to get comfy, Sanji has made a whole heap of food for us all.” You rose from your deep stoop, smiling at Luffy before turning to Eustass Kid and awaiting his response. 

“Traffy sends his cute little counselor ahead of him to meet us, instead of showing his ugly mug up here,” Kid smirked, his lip paint cracking in the warmth of the sun, “Smart man, that captain of yours.” You chose to remain stoic at his unbridled, backhanded compliment of your captain. You extended your chin into the air, narrowing your eyes at the tall captain. 

“I would prefer all compliments coming my way be not at the expense of my captain’s intellect, nor his appearance,” you snarled, arching your brow at him, “If that would be all, Captain Kid.”

“Aye. That’s all, little mouse. Scurry on back to your duties,” he smirked down at you, his narrowed eyes training after you as you turned to direct your crew, now in common clothes, aboard the Thousand Sunny. They all seemed more than joyful at their captain’s lax behavior, depicting their personalities in their own styles rather than in boiler suits. The only member of the Heart-Pirate crew that remained in their uniform was yourself, eagerly awaiting for your captain’s dismissal so you could change into common clothes, yourself. 

You felt a presence behind you, your blood running cold as a shudder curled itself up from the base of your spine to the top of your skull. The small rattle of bones indicated the soul which stood behind you, a smile immediately tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Pardon me, miss,” the soft-spoken voice addressed you over your shoulder, “Would you mind terribly if I were to ask you what type of panties you were wearing?” Your tight-lipped grin did very little to stifle your teetered giggle at such an insanely, forward question from the familiar man behind you.

“Soul-King Brook,” you addressed him, turning to meet with the hollowed eyes of the skeletal form which stood before you. He was dressed in a purple, velvet suit, his hair curled and styled in a carefree, circular afro. The beads hanging from his skeletal neck shook and rattled against his exposed ribcage, the perfectly bleached bones secured with a black, leather belt. 

Eagerly awaiting your response, he pressed the tips of his fingers together in anticipation of your response to such an unhinged question. He could not remember if you were the type to yell, if you were the type to respond with violence, nor if you were the type to simply scoff and walk away from him. 

“If I were wearing any, I would absolutely inform you of the make and model,” you smirked up at him, before adding a soft wink with a further hushed utterance, “When I am dismissed from duty by my captain to change into more comfortable clothes, I would be more than happy to tell you the exact shade of the ensemble.” 

If you had never met this man in encounters prior, you would scoff if anyone ever attempted to convince you that skeletons could blush. But you did know him, and here he was: Brook, the Soul-King, the undead skeleton - blushing red at your words. The cracked cap above the crown of his head popped briefly, to which you almost thought you could see steam rise out of the hollow crevice. 

Nami, the straw-hat navigator, noticed the skeletal musician beside you seeming to have a small rush of energy pop out of his cranium. Immediately, she hastily walked to your side to ensure the skeletal man was behaving himself.

“I-If then, it wouldn’t be too much trouble, miss,” he stuttered over his words, tumbling through his teeth without anything to halt them, “Would you mind telling me if the carpet matches the drapes?” 

“Brook!” Nami scolded her crewmate with a loud reprimand, “You can’t just go around asking people if-.” You halted her words with a wave of your hand and an enthusiastic giggle.

“-It’s perfectly fine with me, Navigator,” you huffed a laugh at both his poorly held conversational skill, and the response his crewman welcomed him with, “I am more than capable of defending myself if I were ever uncomfortable, but I thank you for your valiance nonetheless.” From the corner of your peripheral, you notice Law’s presence aboard the Thousand Sunny. He gives you a curt nod before elevating his chin sharply to excuse you from active duty to change out of your uniform.

“If I may be excused, Nami, Brook,” you nodded to the two Nakama crew respectfully, which they both reciprocated. You turned and began to take a few steps, casually calling over your shoulder, “To answer your question, Musician: The last time I checked, I wasn’t bald up top.” 

The whistle of steam sprung into the air behind you, the rattles of the rotation of excited bones clinked together behind you with the familiar, unhinged laughter you had come to enjoy upon your meetings with the Straw-Hat crew. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself as you made your way back to the Polar Tang to redress yourself in more appropriate garb for the encounter. 

Brushing your shoulders against Shachi and Penguin as you began to go below deck, Penguin quickly grasped his hand over your wrist and halted your movement. You quickly snapped your head to him as he lent down towards you.

“You keen on the skeleton, honey?” he whispered his hushed question into your ear, “Need a wingman to set something up? We can be on the lookout for something, if you like.” You laugh at his questioning, shaking your head at his enthusiasm at the proposition of a romantic fling amongst the crews. Feeling the loosening of his grip over your wrist, you quickly pressed a small kiss against his cheek in gratitude. 

“I think I can manage on my own,” you confirmed with a small teetered laugh, “He is quite easy on the eyes, and I find his unbridled lust for the living flesh endearing.” Shachi joined you with your laughter, both quickly dismissing themselves from your presence as you hopped back on board of the ship you called home. 

Hollowed eyes tracked your every movement. From the grip on your wrist, to the kiss on a cheek, to the teetered giggle rising between the three of you. Brook didn’t truly understand how to feel in this moment: a woman of his dreams seemingly reciprocal of his flirtations being more than friendly with her own crewmen. Was this foreign emotion jealousy? 

He turned his head from your position, as your silhouette vanished below decks of the Polar Tang. He felt a warm hand tuck itself within his skeletal palm, giving his bones a gentle squeeze in support. Nico Robin offered Brook a smile alongside her affectionate touch, soothing over his scattering nerves. 

“She is friendly with those two, Brook,” she hummed up at his tall form, “You, of all people, understand how lonely it is on the seas. She’s blessed to have found friends to offer her a gentle touch and a friendly embrace from time to time.”

“That I do, Robin,” Brook confirmed softly, nodding to himself as he knit his thoughts together, “I just-...” he trailed off, his onyx hollows seeking out the former position you were atop the deck of the Polar Tang, “...I would never dream of ruining that, should I choose to entangle myself with her. She’s wonderful.” 

Robin’s gaze floats over to the two crewmen of the Polar Tang you had found a family with, both of which were focussed in deep, private conversation. Their eyes would float up to Brook, as their hushed whispers were scheming in hyper-focussed plotting. 

“Something tells me you won’t be ruining anything, Dear,” Robin chuckles before releasing Brook’s hand and giving him a small tap on his shoulder in encouragement. 

As you stripped out of your boiler-suit, you hastily made yourself more comfortable in clothes you rarely found yourself donning. You quickly made an appropriate arrangement of your favorite dress: cinched in the waist, accentuating your figure in a perfect hourglass and laid it out on your bed. Before you threw on a plain set of undergarments, your fingers halted on fabrics you had yet to have an opportunity to wear.

A small smile grew into a playful, mischievous grin, as your fingers looped over the lingerie: hastily drawing it up onto your body. You usually wore this garment if you were feeling particularly dull in your boilers uniform: something only for you to wear to make yourself feel more confident. You giggled as you hooked your thumbs over the bottom piece and pulled it up over your thighs to settle on your hips. Hooping your arms through the arm holes of the corseted bodice, you tightened the front of the piece to accentuate your breasts within the cups. 

You quickly took a moment to laugh at yourself at your own stupidity, before you reminded yourself: “If I gave the captain permission to allow himself a moment of idiocy, why should I not do the same? Where is the harm?” 

Throwing your dress over your head, you took a final glance at yourself in the mirror. Hastily adding a small amount of makeup to accentuate your features, you hurriedly made your way back up to the top deck of the Polar Tang while adjusting your laced ankle boots as you took lengthy strides.

As you made your way back aboard the Thousand Sunny, you truly took the time to notice the assortment of clothes your crewmen were finally allowed the luxury of expressing. You set an internal reminder to put forward a petition to allow the crew to dress casually at least once a month while serving aboard the Polar Tang. 

Your eyes quickly found the skeleton, sitting cross legged in front of a checkerboard with the archeologist of the Straw-Hat crew: both drinking jasmine tea and engaging in a game of chess. Approaching slowly, she gazed up at you and wordlessly complimented your chosen casual attire for the day. You gestured with your eyes whether it was an opportune moment to interrupt their game to claim the skeleton’s attention for a moment. She tilted her head with a warm smile, gesturing with her hands to go right ahead. 

Brook was confused briefly before he felt a hand press down on his shoulder. He quickly turned his face to glance down at the fingers perched on his right shoulder before his chin was claimed beneath the same warm grip. You tilted his face to gaze into his eyes, taking a moment for Brook’s mind to catch up to what his body was experiencing. You gazed through half-hooded lashes into the darkened recesses of his circular hollows, a playful smile drawn up on your lips. 

“Violet and pastel-lavender,” you uttered in a soothing, low voice, “Laced up with a gold ribbon in the front with a gold embellished trim around the hemline.” Brook would have lowered his eyebrows in deep thought, if he had any hair sprouting over his skull. He was confused as to what exactly you were relaying to him before he focussed on who was relaying the information. 

His spectral breath was taken from him, no further words were formed within his hollow cranium as steam began to exude from every open orifice. Your half-hooded eyes playfully toyed with him, as a feline would with their freshly caught rodent in their teeth. You held your eyes watching him squirm as you bit your smile back with your teeth, while Robin attempted to contain her chuckle at witnessing her crewman be the center of another’s romantic attention. 

“Y-Y-You-...” he choked on his words, the steam rapidly whistling and fuming throughout his skull, “...You’re w-wearing purple panties?” You giggled at his response, pressing your painted lips against the hollow surface where his nose was once located, leaving a perfect pursed circlet of affection painted on the bleached bones. 

“Of course I am,” you confirmed with a wink before pulling away from him, releasing him from your hands and beginning to rise from your stoop, “I had to match with my favorite musician.” You gestured to the velvet suit Brook was wearing, prompting his attention to briefly switch to his own clothes before snapping his head back up. His jaw hung comically slack, prompting a giggle to rise in your throat before you turned back to acknowledge the woman opposite to Brook.

“Apologies for my forwardness, Nico Robin,” you bowed your head in respect to the dark-haired woman before returning your attention back to Brook, “Soul-King,” you nodded your head to the musician before walking over to your captain. 

Sitting beside Trafalgar Law as he shared a single brain cell with the two Nakama captains was truly a sight to behold. You adored how he finally allowed himself to loosen the tight reins he held himself bound by, his playful stupidity was something you would’ve prescribed as his personal councilor. He needed a holiday, and he was finding one beside the two louder captains. 

As the food changed from the savories, to the sweets, to the cheeses and cured meats: you felt hollow eyes fixated upon your form. You were not swayed by the attention in the slightest, it was a welcomed change to your experience aboard the Polar Tang. You embraced the opportunity to express your femininity in a creative way, and it was a bonus that you managed to snag the attention of such a unique individual as-.

“Brookie!” Captain Luffy called over the ramblings of the crowd, “How’s about a song? Somethin’ from the heart while we enjoy being one big crew together?” 

His trance broken by the orders of his Captain, Brook snapped out of his bout of hypnotism as he made his way hurriedly to claim the first instrument set aside on the deck. The old guitar had water-swollen cracks in the base, but the strings were all new and freshly tuned. When he played music, he was in his own world: unaware of the life around him as he let the music carry his soul. 

As his skeletal fingers began plucking at the strings, his voice relayed a heartfelt melody that held you completely transfixed on his form. Both Shachi and Penguin snickered at your awestruck expression, nudging each other with their elbows as your breath was claimed from you. Law attempted to ask you a question over his shoulder, turning to face you as he didn’t hear a word or utterance of response from your direction.

Law's gaze floated over your starstruck expression, the music fully moving your soul was painted intricately on your face. Your eyes began to become glassy as the swell of Brook’s melody reverberated in your eardrums and shook you to your core.

He smirked at you, uncaring that his question remained unanswered. Your captain reached his hand down, claiming your palms and giving them a gentle squeeze as you remained unresponsive to the world around you. 

Nothing existed in this room: just you, and the skeletal man who was singing to every fibre of your very soul. You were entranced, bewitched, captivated and spellbound by his melody.

Brook in his time as a musician in his corporeal form was well renowned for his shanties and musical ensembles. Some of his melodies were taught to you as a child before you decided to embark on a life of piracy. 

Nothing could have prepared you to meet the man who influenced your childhood musicianship, especially one on the high seas between all the quarters of the continent. Nor did you ever picture yourself falling in love with him as he finally concluded his performance aboard his vessel, to which you were a welcomed guest aboard.

You were too stunned to offer applause in response to the song’s conclusion, the world suddenly jolting back into existence as calls for an encore were encouraged from the three crews. 

Brook’s spectral eyes were held in complete focus against your own, noticing the elevation in your heartbeat flooded to dust your cheeks in a warm flush. Your lips were parted, your eyes never leaving his as you blinked the world back into existence around you. Brook took a brief bow before he extended his boned hand out towards you, nodding to you in a gesture for you to take his hand and join him. 

Turning to your captain first, Law nodded his head to excuse you from your position beside him, you rose to your feet and stepped around from the positions the three crews scattered themselves atop the deck, reaching forward and taking Brook’s skeletal hand. He guided you over to the plush stool beneath the piano, taking a seat beside you as he began to perform a classical arrangement that required no vocals. 

Enthralled by the melody once more, your eyes focussed on the piano. The ebony and ivory keys dipped and rose beneath skilled fingers, the passion in the melody depicted with each crescendoed element. 

“Do you play any instruments?” Brook asked in a low, hushed tone beside you. You snapped out of your brief captivity and looked to his vacant hollows. The empty sockets held firm against your face, focussed on every subtle change in your expression. His fingers continued to clack at the smoothed tips of the keys as he awaited your answer. 

“Not since embarking on a life of piracy, much to the disdain of my heritage with my familial title,” you shrugged with a soft smile, his skull now holding your attention rather than the melody, “I did sing in my youth when I was in medical school, which was a long, long time ago.” 

“Not as long as my youth was. Of that, I am certain,” Brook jested with you, nudging you playfully with his shoulder, “And I bet you could still sing if given the appropriate circumstances.” You returned the gentle nudge with your bicep before lulling your head over the curvature of his firm shoulder.

“I highly doubt we would find ourselves in those rare circumstances, Bone-Daddy,” you snickered at him, enjoying the subtle hiccup in his tinkering atop the keys at the bestowal of such a title. 

“And if I were to ask you to sing with me, Liebchen?” he asked, briefly resting his head atop yours and nuzzling against you. His hair tickled your skin as he rested his undead body against yours. The rambunctious merriment aboard the vessel broke you away from Brook’s question, prompting you to raise your head from its position on his shoulder as you witnessed the stupidity your captain’s were involved in.

Each captain had managed to locate several bugs and beetles aboard the vessel, drawing a chalk circle on the wooden floor of the Thousand Sunny. It seemed that each captain had chosen a bug, beetle or arachnid: those creatures needing to touch the chalk ring of the circle the fastest to determine a clear winner amongst the Nakama.

Shaking your head with a warm, melodical chuckle at how much your captain was letting himself engage with the two other captains in their idiocy, you allowed the warmth to spread up to your cheeks. You were proud of your captain in his vulnerability to engage with them in this way.  

Brook concluded his piano concerto to the absence of applause now the attention was on the insects in front of the captains. You turned to Brook and gave him a soft round of kind applause with your hands, to which he bowed his head in response. Cheers and hollers were thrust into the air at the engagement of the insect race, prompting you both to shake your heads as your eyes remained fixed on Brook’s.

“Will you?” Brook asked once more, elevating his hand to capture your own beneath his, “Will you sing with me, Liebchen? Something small and familiar to you?” You sighed in response, upturning your brows and allowing a soft smile to elevate against your lips. He held onto hope, his hand giving yours a small squeeze in eager anticipation of your answer. 

“I would adore singing with you, Brook,” you sighed breathlessly, “Lead me in song, and I’ll follow the melody you set.” The skeletal man, should flesh be imagined on his features, would be beaming a broad and enthusiastic smile at your willing participation.

He reached within the opening of the piano, pulling out a small instrument with four strings and a rotating handle at the base. Several indented cogs and keys clacked at the sides beneath his skilled fingers, the music springing from the instrument sounded not so dissimilar to a violin with the dual tonality of piped bags. 

“This is a hurdy-gurdy, if you haven’t seen one of its make before,” he informed you with enthusiasm. You nodded down at the instrument as he performed with chords and melody over the clacking and winding, stringed instrument. 

“Do you know any melodies to this progression?” he asked as he played a few minor keys in sequence, “I know it would be somber, but I would love to hear you sing something like-.” His words were stolen from him as you began to lilt your voice in a familiar tune from your childhood. 

Although over time the lyrics in certain passages became lost to you, the intention was there with each skilled fluttery phrase. This melody was bittersweet and melancholy, the song depicting a foreign land where death and grief would no longer hold purchase over those who flee to its comfort. 

There was no mention of a lover, nor whisper of romance within the phrases - yet each lyric fleeing from your lips had the skeletal man falling deeper into the trenches of his adoration and admiration for you. As he learnt the melody and the repetition of the chorus, his voice joined your melody in harmony: skillfully floating in perfect pitch within the realms of your vocal skill. 

As the melody ceased, silence once again surrounded you: the world once again free of the colorful atmosphere you were painting with your song. You were in your own little world with the Soul-King, Brook, beside you. Barely comprehending your actions, you leant forward and brushed your painted lips against the bone occupying the space his lips once were. 

Drawing up the heels of your palms, you collected his cheekbones within them and held him firmly as you pressed several more, soft kisses against his boned lips. It was an unusual feeling, teeth where lips should be, bones where cheeks should be, cold aura of hollows where the fluttering eyelashes of a lover would belong. 

Breaking away your lips from his face, you gazed longingly into the dark sockets of his eyes. No word was spoken between you as you held your breath. He turned his face away from you, shaking his head lightly as if battling an internal argument with himself. Your brows triangulate upwards in the center of your forehead, eyes wide and innocent as you bite at your cheek nervously. Resolving his internal struggle with a huffed breath, he turned back towards you. 

Claiming both of your hands within his own, he gently squeezed at your digits. 

“I never, in all my days in this skeletal body, have longed to have lips as much as I do now,” he confessed in a dark whisper. You floated your eyes between the hollowed sockets, searching for further insight to his feelings.

His sorrow was depicted within his tone, his face remaining vacant at each uttered confession, “I have no flesh, no muscle, no organ: I am only bone. I have no heart, my soul is all that remains. I have nothing to offer you in this life-.” You had no choice but to break him out of his spiraling thoughts with your own argument.

“-All of those things are untrue, Brook. Aside from the physical attributes, don’t you dare reduce yourself to merely the parts you left behind,” you chastised him with your verbal warning. He was shocked at your passion, feeling the heat radiating off your body as you drew up further arguments to present to him.

“You have no lips? I am more than capable of allowing you to borrow mine,” you spoke with no hint of irony, nor jest within your tone, “No flesh, no muscle, nor organ? Those are just the tangible surroundings for the spirit within all of us. Are we not merely vessels for our souls to use as hosts?”

Brook remained speechless, hanging on your every word as the fire of your passion ignited your tongue with sparks and flashes. 

“You are only bone? No heart?” Your anger now truly evident on your features, “How dare you reduce yourself to less than all that you are,” you broke away his grip on your hands, and began to rise to your feet from the position beside him on the stool, “Your heart is your music, your soul is depicted in the care you have for your crew. I feel it, Brook.”

He cowered back against the piano, the hurdy gurdy dropping limply on the floor: discarded and abandoned. No crew spared the two of you a glance in your quarrel, choosing to remain solely fixated on the insect race, now turned into gladiator death-matches within the chalk circle.

Brook was in awe, watching your passion ignite in your eyes as you scold him with your words and bless him with your compliments. In all your encounters together: each time the Polar Tang met with the Thousand Sunny, he was entranced by your rapport and support for your crew. Your soothing words and answers to his unashamed lust presented to you had him blushing, but your attention now has him soaring with the reignition of his absent heartbeat. 

From your position now standing, you brushed off your dress and shook your head to rid the prior passion from elevating further. There were no regrets from offering him a kiss, not even the absence of his lips inhibited you from pressing your affection into his bones. At a huff of your breath, you lowered your tone to be in a kinder pitch, softening your features as you turned back towards the skeleton. 

“I will not stand for such self-degradation, especially with my occupation serving aboard the Polar Tang,” you extend your hand out to him, a soft smile slowly creeping up against your cheeks, “For what it’s worth, I adore you, Brook. I have always held you in the highest regard.” 

“The highest regard? Even with only the parts I’ve left behind?” he uttered his question barely above a whisper, seeking out further explanation within your orbs, “I am only a skeleton, afterall.” You sighed, rotating your neck atop your shoulders and stepped further towards him. Pressing a small kiss on his forehead, your lips lingered for a moment longer against his cranium before you simply walked away from him.  

Feeling truly no need to draw out an explanation for your dismissal of his question, you felt your heart break for the Soul King. You had already confessed your admiration for him, uplifted him with your words and then wordlessly expressed your affection for him with a soft kiss. The skeletal face now had several painted hoops from your pursed lips written on his bones, a memorial of love artistically indented into his absent skin. 

Staggering in his rigidity, a boney hand reached out for you as you attempted to retreat back towards your crew. His essence was screaming to unify with you, to lead you in more intentional touches against his corporeal form. 

“I-I’m sorry. I only meant-...” he circled his boney fingertips around your wrist and gently tugged you to return towards him, “...-I cannot kiss, nor embrace you, in the manner to which I desire most. The others aboard can give that which you seek, commit those acts with you. Why would you choose to engage in this way with me when there are so many others available to you?”

You exhaled slowly from your nose, turning to face the Soul-King. You stood between his parted knees, leaning down while seeking out his chin with your fingertips. Apprehensively cupping his jaw, you leant down to hold your lips a whiskers length away from his pearly teeth. 

“Because you’re who I want, Bone-Daddy,” you confessed down to him, smiling as you touched your forehead against his. He reveled in the warmth rolling from your body to his own, feeling your smile mirrored with his spirit. If he had eyelids, he would close them as you did your own within the arms of one another. 

Elevating his left hand, his slender fingers cupped your cheek and guided you in towards his skeletal mouth. Following his lead, you pressed your lips tenderly against the cool bones of his teeth, feeling the divots beneath your pursed flesh. He held your cheek against his face, tracing soothing circles over your wrist with the tips of his phalanges in his thumb. 

Cheers and an uproar of hooted hollers erupted from the three crews, tearing your attention away from one another as you witnessed an exchange of Berry from Shachi, Killer and Nami. The wagers the crews placed on the variety of small creatures in the gladiator ring were as freely given as the drinks concocted by the skilled hands of the Straw-Hat chef. 

Joining your laughs with your crews, you both held each other firmly engulfed within your arms. The Soul-King nestled his head between your breasts as you soothed your hands within his hair. After several moments remaining this way, you felt the tips of Brook’s fingers trailing curiously up your spine.

“Purple, you said?” he hummed coyly against your chest, his fingers brushing with the hem of the back of your dress, “Violet and lavender with a gold trim?” You chuckled warmly, feeling his head turn slightly in your embrace, his chin placed firmly between your breasts as he looked up at you with his jaw seeming to smile up at you.

“And corset-laced, gold ribboning in the cleavage,” you smiled, smoothing over his hair as you collected his cheek within the heel of your palm. You scrunch your nose at him, gazing through half-hooded lashes playfully down into the hollow abyss of his eye sockets.

“Would you like to see them?”

[dynamimight]

warnings/content: domestic fluff, you n atsumu hv a daughter, slight angst, tsumu's business trip pics are super cute :)

thinking of making atsumu a sweater.

it was for no specific reason: you wanted to & he likes wearing the sweaters you make. and the hats, and scarves and gloves. and he keeps your failed attempts at keychains on his keyring simply bc they were made by you.

the sweater is simple enough: just the msby team colors, his name, and his number on the back. it took a while to perfect the pattern & sizing, but it was worth those few weeks once his eyes lit up upon receiving it.

he wore it on the day he left.

a month long business trip has long lost it's meaning of time. to you & atsumu, four weeks away from each other feels like nothing more than a fleeting glance, a "see you later." and atsumu always comes back.

when you first moved in together, those trips were the worst. (tsumie still teases you about the time you cried for days when he went on his third business trip bc "how were you more upset then than you were the first time, bub?!")

in the beginning, the distance was difficult for two people in love: you had only been around each other for the longest years of your lives. childhood, adolescence, the short beginnings of adulthood. but relationships grow, and so do people, and your connection grew too strong, too unbreakable, to be staggered by a few weeks and a couple hundred miles.

when atsumu sends the first pic, it screams a thousand words. you always find solace in the unspoken "i miss you", "i can't wait to come back", and the ever-present "see you later."

when atsumu sends the first picture, a simple smile in his brand new sweater in the airplane, his daughter simply screams. then, she cries.

she cries just like he did when you two were kids, and it's almost impossible to believe he's not right in front of you in the form of a five-year old little girl. you daughter cries for hours and hours; heartbreakingly sobs about how much she misses her daddy. the situation worsens when the baby asks to see him, because you know that passengers have to turn their phones off right now and you can't stand to break your baby's heart by saying no.

so you make your little girl a sweater.

it perfectly matches her daddy's, and her elation stops her crying. she pouts when you take your phone out of her reach ("i wanna tell daddy about my sweater!" she says), but the pouting is the worst you get over the next couple of weeks.

you and atsumu plan for the matching sweaters to be worn on the same day.

he returned home after the little one had already been dropped off for school. you both shared warm smiles and excited giggles in the car ride to pick her up later that day.

it was a memorable series of events: seeing her exit the doors of her school, gleefully shout her goodbyes to her friends, and skip to your car as she does every day. your baby, too-big bookbag bouncing with each hop, yanking open the car door and throwing her bag in before jumping into her seat. as she grabs her seatbelt, your daughter is ready to tell you all about her day and how they watched tv in class before she stops, shocked at the sight of her father in front of her instead of an empty seat.

she smiles. then, she screams.

[from-a-reckless-writer]

iv. couch.

read on ao3

To Lena: r u busy??? U didnt answer my calls. Dinner later?

To Lena: my place.

To Lena: Or yours! Can totally go to urs. If u want.

To Lena: Lena????

To Lena: where are u??

To Lena: Answer my calls

To Lena: Pls?

Kara rounds the corner of her hallway, keys bitten, dangling from her lips, as she types with both hands. Her 67th text message of the day to an MIA Lena Luthor sent. She fails to notice the creature lurking around the front of her door; dark fur shining under the cheap LED lights of Kara’s corridor.

She’s still deeply absorbed in her phone with worry, in the middle of jamming her keys in with one hand, when something furry brushes against her legs and Kara yelps.

She pulls the knob clean out of the wood in shock, her phone dropping to the floor loudly, the cat doing a duet with her with a startled yowl of her own.

Heart hammering and adrenaline racing, Kara looks down and sees the cat for the first time.

“Oh! Oh!” she gasps, “I didn’t see you there, buddy. I’m sorry for startling you!! I didn’t mean it.”

The door knob clatters loudly to the ground as it falls out of her grasp. And Kara sheepishly feels guilty for the hole in her door. But the cat meows loudly, catching her attention, as if in response to her apology.

She crouches down low, and reaches out a hand to touch the furball. She snaps a quick pic, sends it to Lena and pockets her phone.

To Lena: KITTY!!

“Oh, oh come here,” she coos, “where’s your collar? How’d you get here huh?”

The cat reminds her of Streaky. The first stray who ever took to her kindly. Although upon closer inspection, Kara realizes this one has striking emeralds for eyes, Streaky’s eyes were a more softer blue.

The cat surprisingly seems friendly, immediately leaning into Kara’s touch. Nosing at the inside of Kara’s wrist and it’s such a familiar gesture but she can’t seem to remember why.

And...oh, a small rumbling echoes through Kara’s palm!

Oh, they’re purring!

Kara doesn’t know how long she stays there crouched low exactly, but eventually, she stands up, takes her hand away, and picks up the damaged doorknob.

“Well, time for you to go home now, buddy,” she tells them, giving their head one last pat before dusting off her hands on her jacket.

“Go on, shooo. Shoo. Go home. I’m sure your human is looking for you.”

But the cat remains unmoving. It looks like they’ve decided to sit firmly in front of Kara’s doorstep, casually licking a paw, as if waiting for Kara to open her door.

“Are you actually waiting for me to open my door?” Kara makes a mental note to thank Rao that none of her neighbors can see her trying to hold a proper conversation with a cat.

“Look, kitty,” she says firmly, “I’m not your human.”

The cat just blinks owlishly at her. Eyes too green, too intelligent and-

Kara makes up her mind.

She turns her face skywards, takes a deep breath (This will probably backfire, she already knows. But she's always had a soft spot for strays.) and then she pushes her door wide open.

The cat races inside, cutting through Kara’s legs and almost tripping her.

“Well, somebody’s excited,” Kara mutters under her breath, she watches the cat head for her living room couch; watches as they pause all of a sudden, changes course and jumps onto Kara’s coffee table instead.

Where the cat then proceeds to knock down everything in close vicinity, even the picture frame of her and Lena together.

“Hey! No! Bad kitty-”

But the cat is already hopping down from her pedestal, landing on the frame directly.

And then things get weird.

The cat proceeds to stomp all over it, meows loud, like really loud; insanely loud for a cat their size.

Her paw seems to be almost pointing? At the other person in the frame.

“I-” Kara seems taken aback by the bizarre behavior, sure she knows cats are vastly different from dogs, but this…

This is just weird.

The cat’s meowing only seems to get louder.

How you land yourselves in these situations, Kara. I really just don’t know, at this point. She can almost hear Alex say.

“What are you- Are you- are you pointing? That’s- That’s Lena, yeah. That’s my best friend.”

At that, the cat seems to vibrate. They start clawing at Kara’s pant leg, meowing and meowing and meowing—

And then it hits her.

"-but it turns out that she’s a witch. And apparently, so am I."

The green, green eyes.

A pink nose nuzzling against her wrist.

“Lena?”

******

“Oh, Rao! Lena you’re a cat! What happened?! Oh, no, baby what did you do?”

Lena-

Lena The Cat—and okay, so she’s still wrapping her head around that one—just stays silent. She’s sitting on her lap, looking regal than any cat has any right to be. A judgmental look in her eyes.

Lena’s a cat. Cat’s can’t speak. Can’t answer Kara’s questions.

“Right. Sorry. Only meow,” Kara murmurs, embarrassed. For some reason even in cat form Lena manages to be intimidating.

“Okay so, uh d-does that mean you still understand me? Two meows for yes. One meow for no.”

Kara gets two meows.

“Okay, cool, cool. Great. You can still understand me, that's good.” Kara runs a hand down her spine, “Gosh, your fur is just so soft.”

She hears Lena give a small growl, body tensing, “Right. Right. Sorry. Not the time for pets.” Kara retracts her hand away.

“Uhm, so next question then, I guess? D-did you become a cat this morning? Were you testing out your uhm...gift?”

Lena meows twice. Kara nods, clenching and unclenching her fist underneath her chin. Fingers itching to run themselves through Lena’s soft fur again. Lena seems to sense this, and nuzzles her face into Kara’s hand, bumps against her repeatedly.

“Really?” Kara double-checks, giddy. If she were human Kara bets Lena would be rolling her eyes like she always does when Kara does something particularly dorky, but she just pushes her head firmer against Kara’s hand and meows twice.

“So uhm,” she starts, cautiously, noting Lena’s increasing purr, “is there like a spellbook for this or something? Something that can help you transform back?

Lena meows yes.

“Is it in The Tower or back at your place?”

There are no responses.

“Sorry, sorry lemme rephrase, is it in The Tower?”

She gets two consecutive meows.

Okay, to The Tower it is.

******

“Are you going to tell me why you’re cradling a cat in your cape or??” Alex raises a brow at her, a hand on her hip, left foot tapping impatiently. Her sister was heading out for the day, it looks like. It was just tough luck that Supergirl landed one minute before the elevator took Alex.

Crap. Now they have to explain. They didn’t talk about this. Lena still hasn’t told her if it was okay to tell people about her gift.

“I-I rescued it,” Kara says.

Well, that isn’t so far from the truth, right? She stares at the bundle in her arms, Lena the traitor staying silent all the while—green eyes shining all innocent at Kara.

Alex’s stares intensifies.

“From a tree,” Kara flounders, and Lena The Cat has the audacity to yawn, squirm and jump away from her arms. She lands gracefully, tail swishing up in the air and heads straight for the lab.

Alex eyes the cat suspiciously before turning back to Kara. She jabs a finger to her chest. “It better not have any fleas. It better not touch my training mat.”

“She won’t.”

Alex just shakes her head, rolls her eyes, grabs her helmet and walks to the elevator.

Before she goes though, Alex says, “You know, this is gonna sound weird, but I swear I think I saw that same cat slinking out of The Tower earlier this morning.”

“Alex, she’s literally a black cat. There are hundreds of black cats in the city.”

“You're being weirdly defensive about this. Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not.”

Alex seems like she wants to say more, but the elevator dings, and she’s never been more grateful that Kelly makes Alex pick her up from work. Alex huffs out breath, before conceding and disappearing into the lift.

******

The camera flash is what gets Kara busted.

But is it really her fault if she walked in on a cute kitty, hunched over, meowing adorably, trying to flip over the pages of a thick spellbook, with her teeny-tiny bean paws?

Lena hisses at her, teeth-bared and fur puffy.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But you were just really, really, really cute okay?” She walks closer to the desk, carefully lifts a hand and scratches Lena behind the ear.

The hissing slowly devolves into purring, and Kara grins triumphantly. Lena lets herself be picked up after a few moments, Kara leafing through the pages for her.

“So, found anything yet?” She asks, cradling Lena close to her chest. A warm weight on Kara’s arms, and as much as she wants to get her real Lena back, she also isn’t too eager on giving up this version anytime soon. Then again, Kara thinks, it would be impossible for her to give up any version of Lena Luthor.

“Spell? Charm? Anything? Do you need to make a potion? Are we gonna get to make a potion? Oh, oh do you need a wand? Do you have a wa-”

Kara’s words get muffled as two black paws press against her lips. Lena’s green eyes narrowing at her. She meows at Kara. Loudly.

“Mkay, mkay. Shut up. Got it.”

Lena removes her paws, and Kara makes a gesture of zipping her lips together. This seems to appease Lena enough because the next second, a pink tongue darts out and she...licks Kara's nose.

“Did you- did you just lick me?” Kara gasps out.

Lena doesn’t even acknowledge her with a meow, just turns away and jumps out of her arms again. Before Kara can do anything about it though, her phone rings.

The screen lighting up with Andrea’s name.

“Danvers, I’ve got a story for you.”

******

“Alex, please, I’ll be quick. I promise. I’ll only be three hours at the most. Please just look after her,” she pleads, pouting and puppy eyes in full power.

It also helps that the cat burrito in her cape looks to be cooperating. Lena The Cat staring at Alex with wide round eyes.

Apparently, some governor was found dead downtown, and now Andrea wants her on the scene. She can’t just leave Lena all alone in The Tower. No matter how hard Lena’s been protesting, this is brand new territory for both of them. Nobody knows the extent of Lena’s powers.

Point is, Kara would feel a lot better if she were to leave Lena under the care of someone she trusts. Even if said someone, accuses Lena of being a stray with fleas. It's still better than leaving Lena all on her own.

“Ugh.” Alex groans and Kara knows she’s won. “If this cat causes trouble I will throw it out the window, Kara.”

“No!” Kara yells, distressed. “Don’t do that. She’ll behave. She promises.”

She puts her hand under Lena’s arms and raises her up to eye level—Simba style. “You promise to be good for Alex, don’t you?”

All she gets is a lot of squirming and screaming, there were also a lot of attempts at scratching Kara’s nose.

“See?” Kara says, chuckling nervously. “She’s telling you she’s good.”

Alex looks skeptical, her arms crossed against her chest.

Kara sets her down on the couch, and crouches down low.

She tries to pet her head, but Lena bites at her finger, she catches her teeth on the skin of her supersuit’s thumb slot. She bites deeper, her teeth accomplishing nothing but a few dents.

And oh, Rao she thinks she’s such a feral little cat but her pink adorable gummy snarl says otherwise.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be back. I promise,” she whispers, careful not to let Alex hear. “And then we’ll figure it out later, okay? The safest place for you right now is to be with Alex.”

She really doesn’t want to go, and based on Lena’s protests she doesn’t want Kara to go either. But well, Andrea had finally threatened to fire her if she disobeyed...which is...fair.

She’s aware she’s been doing a less than stellar job at being a journalist lately. Rao, what an understatement. This is basically her make it or break it.

“Look, I’ll be quick, promise. Be good to Alex,” Kara murmurs. She presses a kiss on Lena’s furry forehead. Lena finally unclenches her jaw and lets Kara go. The little whine she lets out, letting Kara know that she knows the battle’s lost.

“Both of you, be good,” Kara tells them sternly. “Alex, please don’t yeet my cat out of the window.”

Alex shrugs, staring at the cat with suspicion. “I make no promises.’

Lena is staring at Alex just as hostile. Great. They both deserve each other.

Kara sighs exasperatedly. Well, at least she tried.

******

She gets a very angry Alex Danvers on the line, right after she’s finished talking to some sources. It’s nighttime now, and when she checks her watch—yep, she’s left Lena in Alex’s care for more than six hours.

Crap.

“Hey, Al—”

“KARA IF YOU DON’T PICK UP THIS THIS THIS GODDAMNED HAIRBALL RIGHT NOW, YOU WILL NEVER SEE IT EVER AGAIN.”

There is loud meowing, and then, “What the- Get off! Get off me right no-”

The line clicks dead.

Kara Danvers quickly changes into an alley, manages to break the sound barrier.

******

It’s Kelly who opens the door.

“Hey, Kara,” she greets her. Kara is impatiently rocking on her heels, trying to peer past Kelly’s shoulders.

The place was quiet; ridiculously quiet, and Kara feels fear swoop in her belly.

“Please, tell me my cat is still alive,” Kara bursts out, Kelly just gives her a pained smile and oh, no, oh no.

She muscles her way past Kelly to a brooding Alex on the couch.

Lena is nowhere to be seen.

“Alex, Alex where’s my cat? Where is she? Where did you put her?”

Alex finally looks up at her, Kara taking notice of the red marks on her arm.

Oh no, Lena, what did you do?

“Calm down, I didn’t throw the little demon away. She’s-" Alex sing-songs before finishing, "on time-out.”

“Time-out?” Kara asks, voice shaking. Rao, does she really want to know.

Alex takes too long to answer, taking a swig of her beer first before pointing to a corner in the living room.

And there, she spots it.

It, being a small pile of laundry on the floor, next to an upside down hamper. A big white hamper housing one Lena Luthor. There's a crude cardboard sign stuck on it; "Kitty Jail". Alex has also stacked a few encyclopedia on top of it, no doubt an attempt to keep Lena from escaping.

“Oh! Oh, Lena!”

Kara superspeeds her way and scoops Lena up, the cat meowing immediately and curling into Kara’s chest.

“You named the cat after Lena?!”

Crap.

Kara turns around slowly, “Uhm yeah?”

Alex just shakes her head. “Unbelievable.”

“Her eyes reminded me of Lena, okay?!” Kara yells defensively, pressing tiny kisses onto Lena’s fur.

“I’m sorry that Alex has been such a meanie to you," she coos, "I know you didn’t deserve it, baby."

Alex seems to perk up at that, because she raises up from the couch. “That,” Alex jabs a finger in their direction, Kara cradles Lena protectively, “That baby ruined my couch and she so totally deserves all the mean! All the mean in the world, Kara!”

Lena hisses in her arms.

“No, no. That’s not true. Lena is baby and she’s perfect and you’re just a meanie.”

“She ruined my upholstery! She left hair all over the place and that’s not even to mention the scratching!”

“Because you were mean to her!”

Alex scoffs, eyes bulging wide in disbelief.

“Get out,” Alex says, her brows pinching comically, “Get out of my apartment before that little devil causes more damage.”

“Gladly,” Kara says, and Lena meows her assent. They make their way past Alex, Kara unaware that Lena has stuck out her little tongue at Alex over her shoulder.

“And she’s not a little devil!” Kara calls out.

Alex slams the door in her face.

******

That evening, Kara pores over a thick spellbook, eyes swimming with Latin symbols with a purring machine on her lap.

By midnight, Kara has managed to pass out on her couch, a black cat curled on her chest.

The spellbook lay open on her coffee table, forgotten.

******

The first sight that greets Kara when she wakes up are green eyes.

Green human eyes.

And then it hits her.

“Lena!”

The spell had blessedly wore off by morning, and Kara’s never been more glad to see the sunlight lighting up Lena’s face.

For a moment, Kara’s assaulted with the mental image of laying in a pool of sunlight with a black cat stretching leisurely next to her.

“Good morning,” Lena purrs, and oh Rao, that sound is much, much better than her meowing.

“You’re back!” Kara gasps in awe.

“I’m back,” she whispers, she’s still draped fully over Kara on the couch. A blanket covering them both.

“Rao, I missed you.” A palm comes up to cup her cheeks, Lena automatically nuzzling into the inside of her wrist.

“Mm, I missed me, too,” Lena tells her, face breaking into a small smile. Kara traces her fingers up and down Lena’s spine. Oh, how she’s missed touching Lena’s skin.

Wait-

Skin.

Is she-

“Lena,” Kara begins, swallowing. Her nerves not going unnoticed.

Lena raises a brow at her. “Kara?”

“Are you- uhm- ah. Are you naked right now?”

Lena’s eyes light up like a cat’s and Kara knows she’s in trouble.

“Mm. It seems that I am,” Lena says, and all Kara can do is gulp.

“What are you gonna do about it?”

special shoutout to @mike-wachowski, @sexybread-png and @thebreakfastgod for their cat expertise without whom this silly little fic would not be written.

[ehbeeseedih]

No Feelings, You Remind Yourself - Arin

A/N: My first try at writing a quickie, not my best but it should fulfill your daily bad smut quota. Enjoy!

If you prefer to read on AFF, here ya go.

As Arin’s manager, following her around for her schedules is tedious, but seeing her being successful and thankful to you makes your heart warm.

Today however, not only is your heart warm, so is your whole body and your buddy. Today is Arin’s first foray into lingerie modelling.

Sure, it isn’t as revealing as most. However just seeing her show this much skin …

It’s not like you haven’t had intimate interactions with her, the wet stains on the backseat of your van would disprove your lie. But there was something different this time.

Seeing her showing off her skin and assets in front of so many crew members now, and all the people who will see these pics, and what will those people do with her in their mind, that made you feel things. No feelings, you remind yourself.

For now, those thoughts don’t matter. A loud “Let’s rest for 20 minutes” snapped you out of your reverie.

You rushed towards Arin with a blanket to cover herself up. She beamed a smile at you and accepted it.

As you close the door of the resting room, Arin collapses herself onto the couch.

“Oh no, that was so nerve wrecking. Wearing so few clothes and having so many people look at my body is so embarrassing.”

“Calm down Arin. You did really well just now. Didn’t you say you want to try something new when you accepted this offer?”

“Yeah I know, but I didn’t expect myself to be so anxious.”

You pulled her over to your shoulder, “lie down then, let some of the adrenaline wear off,” her perfume smell tingles your nose.

“No need for that. You know how you can help me relax?” a smirk floats on her baby-ish features, “you can give me your protein shake.”

“Wait! Anyone can walk in at any moment.”

“Then you’ll just have to be quiet.”

Arin’s hand works on unbuckling your belt and removing your pants, her breath tingling your buddy through your boxers.

With one strong pull, she dragged your pants and boxers down. “Look at you, big and hard already before I even did anything. Were you excited staring at me just now?”

“Yes Arin, I couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

“Awhhh, you’re such a good manager, let me show my thanks.” She stands up and removes the excess clothing, leaving only the plain coloured bra and panties.

She lowers herself down in between your legs, spitting on your buddy. Grabbing on it, she slowly rubs it up and down. Arin’s index finger trails down from your tip to your base, her tongue swirling around your tip lightly at the same time.

“We don’t have much time. Ahhh. Don’t tease me like this.”

“So you want it fast and furious huh, as you wish.”

Arin took your buddy in all the way, leisurely dragging her tongue along the base of your buddy as it goes in.

She changes tone as she goes deeper, her head bobs up and down at an incredible speed, the vacuum in her mouth causing waves of pleasure for you. You tried to hold in your moans, shutting your mouth tight with both your hands.

Arin released your buddy in her mouth, with a bop sound on your buddy and a low grunt from your mouth.

“Why did you stop!”

“Don’t cover yourself up, I want to see you struggling to hold in your moans.”

“No. People outside might hear us!”

“Awhhh, please.” She strokes your buddy, sucking the tip of it while maintaining eye contact with you, the suggestiveness in her eyes makes it impossible for you to reject her.

“Ok, let me lock the door first.”

After you reached over to the door lock, Arin took your buddy back into her mouth. Devouring it like it's her favourite food, the loud slurping sounds reflecting round the room.

Your hands move downwards and grab her hair, bundling it up and pushing her deeping down.

Arin’s throat muscle squeezes your buddy lightly as your tip brushes the back of her throat. Taking over the initiative, you slowly pull Arin off your buddy then pushing her all the way down again. Rinse and repeat with increasing frequency until all you can hear is Arin gaggling.

You turn your head down to see Arin’s eyes shut tight, enjoying how roughly you’re using her. Her hands are also in between her legs, playing with herself. Each moan she releases down your buddy resonates with one of yours.

With your frequency ramping up, you begin to feel a tightness in your lower body. On the last push, you pushed her all the way down as you hit your climax. You shoot all of your cum into her oral cavity, painting the inside of her mouth full white, giving her all the protein she’ll need to finish the shoot.

Arin bursts out choking on all the fluids, spitting out a mixture of her saliva and your cum all over your crotch.

“Ugh, you cum so much that I couldn’t swallow it all, what a waste.”

“It’s not my fault that you look so hot in those lingeries. Oh no, your bra and panties are stained!”

“It’s ok. The next shoot is just athletic wear. But I do need to clean up down below to not dirty the next pair too, if you know what I mean.”

Her suggestive tone is a give away, “Let me help you.”

You push Arin down onto the couch and sink in. Remembering that you don’t have much time, you have to skip the appetizer that is her milky thighs and go straight in for the main course.

You drag her panties out of the way, beginning with a lick of her wet lips from bottom to top. A soft moan is all you need to hear from Arin as you indulge in your guilty pleasure.

Your tongue lightly parts her lips apart and dig in, tasting the stream of sweet juices leaking out of Arin’s pussy. Her body squirms and twists around as your tongue begins exploding deeper

Into her folds.

“It feels so good,’ she cutely whines, one of her hands copies your earlier movement, grabbing your head and pushing it deeper.

You should tell her to keep quiet. That was your job as the manager, to protect the image of your artist. Not now, the main task on hand is to help your artist, and that help will come from you sending her to orgasmic heaven.

Focusing all your attention back to pleasuring Arin, you probe your tongue back inside her, swirling it and licking up all the nectar inside. Arin’s hand pressures you more as her hips begin bucking, grinding her pussy against your face and smearing her juices all over it.

You raise your head up slightly, leaving the warmth of her pussy and going for a bigger target. Using your nose to swipe over her clit, you suck and lick it gently.

“I’m cummingg.” Arin’s nails dig deep into your skull, releasing all the pleasure you’ve just given her back on you. A gush of fluid comes squirting out, nearly drowning you as you hungrily slurps up all of it.

Arin’s controlling hand finally lets you off after she recovers, her face still blushed red and her breath unsteady.

“You were really fast just now eh.”

“Don’t say that,” she slapped your shoulder, “It felt too good. Can you clean me up now?”

Your cleaning job begins by cleaning off patches of wetness around her thigh, finishing it off with tissue papers to remove any evidence of the things done here.

A knock on the door. “Arin! Are you ready?” the lady whom you assume knocked the door outside shouts.

“I’m coming. Give me a sec.”

In a haste, the athletic wear is on her body. Your vision stays on her body, but not the body.

No feelings, you remind yourself. Arin is in front of you.

“Don’t frown. They might see my figure and even in lingerie, but only you will see me completely naked. Let this be our secret nobody knows. Shhhh.” she says as she holds your hand tight and looks into your eyes sincerely. It seems like she has mind reading powers.

“Alright then, go finish the shoot. I’ll prepare your favourite food for dinner after this.”

“Thank you, you’re the best”

She’s the idol you’re managing, she’s everyone’s idol, someone like you should appreciate that you can even get close to her, let alone be her semi friend with benefits. No feelings, you remind yourself.

_____________________________________________________________

This idea was inspired by @gammasnippets check them out and follow them after this.

Thank you for reading and hope you've liked it. Hope that we'll meet again on the next story.

[e-102]

When I was redesigning zlaja for the first time since her proto design I didn’t have her reference on hand! I thought I had lost it forever so I was going based on memory, she ended up with a similarly creepy look but a lot more color and sex as the basis of horror. Here’s the original vs 2nd run, these were both long before she became a dnd pc, and i think they were done a couple months apart in 2017.

i made a lot of purposeful and stylistic choices that just didn’t mesh that well together. zlaja conceptually didn’t have many emotions beyond manic, so she was always smiling and i didn’t need to convey anything on her face. the yellow tongue was another draw for attention to her crazy face, her eyelashes had to be long and distinctive because her sclera was the same color as her skin. she had a lot of straps on her body to promote the idea of her body shape because i couldn’t show it since she was pitch.

flash forward to 2019 and i’m playing her in my friends dnd campaign. she’s redesigned again (and i’m gonna call this early version 3) with more cohesion and her hair is sloooowly rounding out. it’s around this time when i was watching a lot of drag performances online and was into drag race that i started to mimic big drag queen wigs in a lot of my art.

it’s hard to pinpoint specific elements beyond design but attitude and body language were also influenced by drag.

zlaja ends up going through some rapid changes because as i play her, her personality grows and changes and suddenly i need her to be a lighter tone of red brown so i can convey her expressions and body folds. the more i draw her the less i like the rigid rules i set up in the beginning. i also waffle back and forth from cool pink to warm pink with her hair, but officially settle on warm pink.

another note: female presenting nipples are officially banned on tumblr at this time so i don’t go back to drawing her nips even though her skin tone was lightened enough to show details like that again!

then comes the new and improved ref, this is probably the finalized Version 3 in 2021. zlaja has huge outlandish features now that don’t leave a lot of room on her face for piercings or even eyebrows 🫣 but now she’s easier to draw, more expressive and cohesive. her gloves get shortened, the straps on her gear are reduced so she’s less visually noisy in the stomach region.

by 2021 zlaja’s story has come to an end and the campaign she was in is finished, i don’t have a lot of reason to draw her anymore other than loving her. but she went through a transformation into someone who values herself and understands the love of those around her.

here’s the last big drawing i did of her in 2022,

elements of her old design still appear, her sclera is still black, the triple stud earrings remain, her eyelashes are still the same. her chin horns are supposed to be here too but hey were just a little too busy for this pic 😅.

at the same time she’s got some impossibly bouncy hair and bright pink leather bondage gear that’s pretty heavily reduced from what it used to be, and yellow is a lot more reduced in her design so i usually draw her teeth whiter rather than neon yellow! which is sad because it’s sort of a left over choice i made from when her tongue used to be yellow, i guess i just missed have yellow there!

for zlaja this visual change coincided with the growth of her character. the more humanized she was the softer and kinder her design reflected. to me it’s all canon! maybe even proto zlaja who knows, she has a place in my heart too. anyways who cares lol. here’s a drawing of her in 2023

we’ve come a long way!

They don’t even know zlajas design was heavily influenced by drag

[jjungkookislife]

Quarterly Fic Recs 2021 #2

Hello! I’m back with another rec list! Here are fics I’ve read, loved and thoroughly enjoyed in the second quarter of 2021! They are all very wonderful fics! Each story has its own genre, warnings (and are mostly 18+), so please take that into consideration before reading. If any authors would like me to untag them, please let me know. Enjoy!

Yoongi

before i leave you @hollyhomburg

summary: Yoongi Disappears- leaving behind a shattered pack. 8 months later, Jimin finds Yoongi in an H-mart of all places.

Hoseok

heart-on @junghelioseok

summary: my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick

Jungkook

charmolypi @njssi

summary: Work and pleasure should never be combined — or so the saying goes. But you were never really one to follow the rules in their entirety and neither were the ones around you. Love, lust, interest. Five people. In the workplace. What could go wrong? Everyone just wants to get something, after all.

when you least expect it @johobi

summary: You’re in love with your childhood friend, Taehyung. The problem is, you treasure your friendship with him far too much to ever risk losing it. Oh, and he’s quite the Casanova. At your wits’ end with feelings you can no longer hide as diligently as you once did, you ask him to set you up with someone, anyone, in a last ditch attempt to avoid a heartbreaking conversation.

wherever there is you @jeonstudios

summary: you’ve been drinking, haven’t you?

instant gratification @dovechim

fuckboi@jungkook x cheerleader!reader

haze @yyooni

summary: So you’ve fucked the biggest fuck boy on campus. It’s a one and done. One night stand. A wham bam thank you ma’am. So why does it happen again?

OT7/Multiple Members

because i’m yours @minniepetals

summary: you should have known they’d never let you go after gathering the courage to ask for a kiss

blazed @ironicarmy

summary: Your friends try to cheer you up during Christmastime, but things go south once Hoseok appears with a mysterious brown bag.

Seokjin

one step @cutechim

summary:  attending an ex’s wedding is never easy, but you might just have the perfect remedy—if you can pluck up the courage to take it.

platonic @joheunsaram

summary: Finding a new method for stress relief, you rope in your bestfriend/fwb to try it out with you.

show me yours and i’ll show you mine @ktheist

summary: you’re a horny bunny yet kim seokjin always seems to manage to slide out of your grasps like a fox every time.

Yoongi

before i leave you pt. 7 @/hollyhomburg

summary: Pack omega kim Seokjin knows how to handle things when they go south (or alternatively you get triggered, Yoongi has a panic attack, and it’s a good thing the pack is there to help)

Hoseok

risky business @yoonjinkooked

summary: The person who invented smart glass office walls knew what they were doing. Your secretary fucks you stupid in the office.

snapshot @xjoonchildx

summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love

keep me warm @ppersonna

summary: camping is always a great time when you’re with your friends, but even better with your boyfriend, hoseok.

it’s you @jinpanman

summary: An accidental confession throws your years-long friendship with Hoseok into disarray.

Namjoon

love bytes @stutterfly

summary: It’s been a year since you first met Kim Namjoon, the passionate, talented English professor at the local campus. He’s always been clumsy and aloof, but he’s on a whole new level in terms of “technologically incapable.” One call to IT was all it took to pull you into his life, and with it a whole string of friendships full of flirtatious banter and undying support.

Your dating situation has been drier than the Sahara for years now, and you’ve wasted too many lonely nights drinking alone, so you try your hand at Tinder. But you’re not getting any bites. When the group finds out, they are more than willing to help–even Namjoon, though he finds it increasingly difficult to deny that he’s hopelessly smitten. You consider their opinions on potential Tinder dates while fighting off feelings you never knew were brewing for the caring soul who becomes the home you never had.

out of my league @/ppersona

summary: Kim Namjoon was never supposed to find out about your years-long hopeless crush on him. And he most definitely was not supposed to find out about it in front of all your coworkers in a company-wide meeting.

so this is love @jinpanman

summary: “So this is the miracle that I’ve been dreaming of. So this is love.”

problem solved @sugasbabiie

summary: Namjoon helps you with more than math problems tonight.

love is @hxseok-honee

summary: they say that love is supposed to transcend time and space and that it knows no limits. but putting an ocean and thousands of miles between two people won’t make things any easier, will it? 

Jimin

potent pink @dntaewithluv

summary: The first time you see Park Jimin you’re instantly entranced by him. And it turns out he lives in the apartment next to the one you’re moving into, so even better he’s your hot neighbor. When the previous tenant confesses to you that he was the best hook up she ever had, you’re that much more intrigued. The first time you meet him, however, you’re deciding immediately that you hate him and want to stay as far away from him as possible. Jimin is determined to be a constant in your life though, and he definitely is that. Both a constant flirt and a constant pain in your ass. Is a ruined second impression enough to prevent you from ever giving him a second chance?

Taehyung

hush, yeah? @kithtaehyung

summary: the innocent accident that started it all

unfinished business @/dntaewithluv

summary: Besides wanting to catch up with some old friends, there’s only one reason you found yourself agreeing to attend your 10 year high school reunion. The boy you were in love with back then is going to be there, and you’re determined to finally make your move. Except, unfortunately, it turns out that Kim Seokjin is very much happily married. Kim Taehyung, however, is very much single and feels like he has something to prove to you after you turned him down all those years ago. One night is all it takes to make you realize you made the biggest mistake of your life.

under the covers @jessikahathaway

spy!au

darling @bloomsuga

summary: “go to sleep, darling.”

as endless as the stars ^

summary: he waited 160 years to meet you again, and now that he has, he’s not letting go. or: “i love you as deep as the ocean and as endless as the stars”

dirty dishes @jaysdimples

summary: when your boyfriend can’t seem to keep his hands to himself so he stirs up a little trouble in the kitchen while everyone else is a few feet away in the next room

devotion @/sweetbunnykook

summary: You and Taehyung were inseparable once. When you come back to your hometown after three years, fate pulls you back to him. And this time, Taehyung won’t ever keep his eyes off of you.

Jungkook

commercial break; twelve @1kook

summary: Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee.

tease @adonis-koo

summary:You came with the intentions of your best friend landing a job as a stripper. You never meant to catch the eyes of the king stripper of the establishment- Jeon Jungkook, yourself. With what was supposed to be a harmless way of paying off college debt faster you find yourself falling into a very odd and passionate relationship with your new mentor. Between infidelity, passion and jealousy there’s never a dull moment at Cherry Bomb.

jock!jk @angelguk

summary: going raw with jock jk

evolution of a lover’s heart @jeonstudios

summary: the rules are simple: first one to take the virginity wins.

euphoria @btssavedmylifeblr

summary: At the end of your life, you are given one day to live again with the man you loved. A lifetime’s love story told in a single day.

idealizations concerning real life relations @venusiangguk

summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.

relax @itsbuffsanta

summary: jk is antsy after the concert, so you help him relax.

employee of the month @/dntaewithluv

summary: Sometimes it truly amazes you how much of an idiot your boyfriend can be. But you also find it impossible to say no to him. Even when it involves letting him fuck you at his work on the same day that he gets awarded employee of the month…

ego 08 @suga-kookiemonster

summary: what’s a girl to do when her sweet, innocent baby lab partner isn’t quite so sweet and innocent? well, he’s a grown-ass man, and you’re about to learn that the hard way.

only you 10 @sweetbunnykook 

summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.  

lunchbox lovers @jiminrings

stem major!koo x cold senior!y/n

crunchyroll & rail @/1kook

summary: Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket.

only for you @jikookiekosmos

summary: It’s the night before your wedding and you should be happy…but a fight with your fiancé leaves you second guessing everything. A visit from the blue-haired boy of your dreams is just what you need to make it right.

lillies @dewykth

summary: “… white lines, pretty baby, tattoos, don’t know what they mean, they’re special just for you…”

bluekooberry @kimtaehyunq

summary: Your adoring boyfriend, Jungkook, surprises you with a brand new hairstyle before your trip to visit him for the weekend. He’s excited to see you, feed you, and give you exactly what you want.

bad reputation @noteguk

summary: in which you have to deal with some strange emotions for the first time.

not yet @bratkook

summary: jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship

incoming: elite chatboy @kookingtae

summary: welcome to Elite Chatroom, a sex chat company with a wide variety of services such as text messaging, phone call, and video chat. you signed up online for the most basic text service plan not knowing what to expect, but you certainly didn’t think you’d end up actually liking the man behind the screen.

ineffable @euphoria-vmin7

summary: your best friend Jeon Jeongguk has always been amazing and deserved the best, so you’ve hid your love for him. But unbeknowsnt to you, there may be feelings that could change everything between you two…

touch @gardentulips

summary: when you tease and please one another

Multiple Members

friendly fire @kpopfanfictrash

summary: The dynamic: Hoseok; your friend and previous fuck buddy. Jungkook; Hoseok’s roommate and subject of your massive crush. The scene: determined not to drunk-gush about your crush any more (to his face), you decide to seclude yourself from all campus parties. Until, of course, Hoseok guilts you into a favor. Things spiral from there.

the boys are back in town @/dntaewithluv

summary: Getting stood up by your date definitely hadn’t been on your agenda for the evening. Also definitely not on your agenda: bumping into Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook. Together. On the same exact night. It’s been a while since you’ve seen your two best friends, as well as lovers on multiple occasions, from your high school and college days. A chance meeting, some drinks, and a trip down memory lane is all it takes to reignite the attraction between the three of you. Old habits die hard, but these two? They just might be the death of you.

ruin you @taegularities

summary: “His eyes hold unfathomable darkness that lures you in, captures your very soul, steals any air you are trying to draw. And you know without a doubt that you’re on the path to utter and irrevocable ruination.”

ruin you (once more) ^

summary: Taehyung and Jungkook can’t keep their hands off you. Not even in the elevator.

Seokjin

kairos @luffles424

summary: When your financial aid falls through for your last year of school, you fear you’ll have to drop out and postpone your degree. Until Taehyung gives you a suggestion to make a lot of money, quick. His idea can’t possibly end well, can it?

appetence @luffles424

summary: appetence (n.) - an eager desire, an instinctive inclination; an attraction or a natural bondIt’s time for Seokjin’s rut. Are either of you prepared for this step?

tiny lights, tiny lies @ggukcangetit

summary: you aren’t sure when exactly your best friend’s brother went from being an oddly annoying set of broad shoulders to the shoulders you frequently fell asleep against.

Yoongi

the little things @kimtaehyunq

summary: When the present isn’t exactly enough for you right now, Yoongi is here for you through it all. He makes sure you know you aren’t alone and that it’s ok to feel alone.

cyberslut @kimnjss

summary:  he has no idea who you are… up front, you’re sweet and innocent - but in reality you’re the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.

yoongi drabble @joonsgalore

life guard au

Hoseok

benefits @cutechim

summary: you and hoseok have taken the ‘friends’ out of friends with benefits, but exclusivity has its own perks.

Namjoon

namjoon drabble @lovetrivia

summary: You’re a hot girl on Twitch and Namjoon is an absolute simp.

Jimin

baby fever @writtenwhalien

summary: Jimin wants another baby, and much to your delight, he’s determined to give you one.

jimin drabble @/1kook

best friend au

small hands jimin drabble @lavishedinjimin

established relationship au

silk and lace @sunshyngal

summary: Min Nara is the newly dumped fiance to the Crown prince of Korea, Park Jimin. She’s not overtly upset , because at least now she can live her life without the pressure of the monarchy hanging over her head. Besides , Nara has a very dirty little secret. While she spends the day as the perfect high society girl with an impeccable pedigree , her nights are filled with lacy lingerie and webcams.  Ignored by the man she’s meant to marry, she revels in the greedy lust of strangers on the internet. It’s her way of saying ‘fuck you’ to a system that sees her as nothing but a toy, molded for the future King. Park Jimin doesn’t know the first thing about his supposed fiancee. And he has no intention of learning either. He knows just what debutante girls are like and he has no patience for the kind. Besides, his girlfriend of three years, the elegant and independent Irene is everything he would ever want in a wife . Or is she?Because in the secrecy of his office , after the day’s work is done , Park Jimin has a very scintillating vice that he likes to indulge in : the beautiful camgirl who calls herself the Temptress. Jimin can’t get enough of the girl’s lush thighs wrapped in silk, the pretty pink of her nipples in see through bralettes and the glittering temptation of the jeweled plugs she likes to stuff herself full with.Jimin thinks she embodies  everything he can never allow himself to have as a Prince : filth, sin and decadence , all wrapped up in Silk and Lace.

Taehyung

nip it in the bud @opaljm

summary: You’re not sure how you ended up here, but maybe a shitty ex and a horrible breakup had a hand in what placed you in front of the tattoo parlor. It was already a nerve-wracking experience, but what you never expected was seeing that the owner and artist giving you nipple piercings was your older brother’s best friend you hadn’t seen in ages. to make things even worse, he got fucking hotter.

taehyung drabble @joonsgalore

sugar daddy au

peanut @jungxk

summary: the making of peanut.

Jungkook

pretty kitty @venusiangguk

summary: you’re jk’s baby, his toy, and now his pretty little pet.

heavy metal @hisunshiine

summary: You come home from a trip to find your fuckbuddy has a… hole-y surprise.

devour @bloomsuga

summary: my sweet angel… i am going to devour you

grain of sand @jungkookiebus

summary: Blind since the age of 18 from a genetic disorder, Jungkook walked through life as if he never lost it, but on one fateful day seven years ago he literally almost runs into you. He fell in love nearly immediately. Fast forward to the present and it’s just another day in your quiet life with him by your side.

under the oak tree @mingoyeob

summary: as the eldest daughter of a duke, it’s your duty to marry at your father’s will. yet you didn’t expect to be marrying jeon jungkook, a knight of low status, especially when he departs for an expedition without another word after your first night. when he comes back three years later, this time as a renowned hero, how will you be able to face him and how will things change between you and your new husband?

jungkook drabble @1kook

dilf!jk

commercial break: thirteen ^

summary: Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today.

sh. @wwilloww

summary: How could you say no to a month away in the mountains with your friends after six months of grueling quarantine?

jungkook drabble @lavishedinjimin

daddy!jk

OT7/Multiple Members

the end @jimlingss

summary: It’s been a habit of yours to vent in the form of love letters. There’s six in total. They’re kept secret, hidden in your closet. But on your 30th birthday, what you least expect is for each letter to become reality. All done by the whacky ghost of Christmas future trying to grant your birthday wish.

[power-of-plot]

Iida, Mirio, and Aizawa dating hcs please

Of course! But holy cow apparently this seriously inspired me, i hope this is ok xd

I I D A

Oh yes robot boi. Iida is someone nerdy in every aspect, his language even with close friends like Midoriya is very formal and polite, the same rule would apply when it comes to his significant other. Unlike what some would think, this doesn’t give your conversations a cold touch, on the contrary, it’d make him look chivalrous.

He’s a classic gentleman, he’d be the kind who opens the door and waits for you to walk in first or gives you his jacket when it’s too cold and you don’t have anything to cover yourself with, the second one would happen often in the classroom if you’re sensitive to cold. We are talking about U.A have you seen the measures of the classrooms and the entire area? It’s impossible they don’t have those huge air conditioners.

He highly respects the rules wich means, no PDA, on a certain level, no kisses to be specific. That doesn’t mean he won’t give you any affection, though every gear of his robotic soul is having a bad time working properly inside, he’d hold your hand or put his over your shoulder pulling you close when you’re sitting together. 

He definitely would do that thing of caressing you with his thumb. As you expected it from Tenya, this is a sort of robotic motion, his finger would move like a metronome but that doesn’t make it any less nicer, he is slow and gentle.

Honestly, he’d be nervous most of the time. ALSO! Tenya is very thoughtful, he’d ask (often verbally) if you’re okay with whatever he’d do, as times goes by the questions turn non verbal, for example he’d hold his hand above yours waiting for you to give green light or grasp it. 

“..Can i hold your hand?” “Sure!” “*DEEP INHALE AND BLUSH*” He couldn’t help to blush the first times. Specially on the firsT kiss but how would it be? A clasic scenenario after classes! And after you both have grown comfortable enough to each other’s touch. Seriously, if you like to go slow he's got you.

You two would be walking around in the campus after classes and he feels the tension grow.. he is analyzing every detail, he wants to ask but what if things get extremely awkward, he’s very tall- he’d have to bend down slightly (unless you’re nearly as tall as him) to do it so what if you flinch because it was unexpected.. he stops walking, he simply manages to say your name. You stared into each other's eye and then it happened, a big smile unexplainably forms in his lips complemented by a scarlet color across his whole face, his haircut made his head look like a strawberry.

There are going to be days you don't see him as much as you'd like, Tenya is very comitted to his hero patrols, he certainly would do extra hours from time to time or if the situation called for it. Let him know you like his hero suit! He’s thankful it has a helmet otherwise his flustered face would be exposed. 

Whatever position you cuddle in Iida would wrap his arms around you, not only that, he’d interlock his fingers so he has a nice grip. His cuddles would be the classic spooning or having your head on his shoulder with your arm over his chest and in case you worry about his arm, this guy doesn’t know limb numbness- he literally tenses and holds his arms up every five minutes.

He sends good morning/good night texts often on the weekends since you're practically living together thanks to the dormitory system, they vary depending on the day, some are a reminder to get a proper amount of sleep or! To get done with homework so you can enjoy your free time and maybe ask if he can go over to study *cough spend time together*

He'd send the classic heart emoji, very detailed but easy to comprehend videos explaining any difficult lesson and history related stuff like paint restorations or facts about iconic sculptures. Please don’t send him those videos of people accidentally breaking things on museums, he’s gonna feel like something breaks inside.

M I R I O

This ray of sunshine fell for you? Your luck is so big you’d get jackpot on a slot machine on the first try-. You’re undeniably going to be good friends with Tamaki and Nejire, specially her, expect to get questions one after another without the chance to reply when she finds out you’re Mirio’s significant other, Tamaki would take it way better.

Mirio’s goofyness and confidence combined with his feelings give a unique result: he literally spoke to the boss of mafia himself twice like he was the manager in a store, but, the case is different when you’re around, he’s saying and actually good joke and suddenly.. it goes away, his mind goes blank. “So what happened after Mirio..?” “Ah.. i had practiced a lot, i don’t know what happened haha my bad!”

You’re going to get tons of his jokes and something more “intense” such as the classic “What’s in your shirt?” to make you look down so he can boop your nose with his finger, you should expect some gentle headpats as well. 

If you’re shy he’s cool about it, he knows what do and adaptates to your pace, you’d start off with hand holding or rather pinky holding, he’d interwine his pinky with yours and show a bright smile. His hugs are the warmest, he doesn’t do it half-assesly, when you hug, YOU HUG, he uses both arms and slightly lifts you up! Height or strength are not a problem he’s actually one cm taller than Iida i just found out

He seems like the kind who loses their pen or eraser despite seeing it on their desk just one minute ago, if you happen to be that kind as well you’re both going to lay down your faith on poor Tamaki’s hands, i’m sure he has all his material complete.

He hardly ever gets nervous or scared by anything, things like the first kiss would go pretty smooth, instead of blushing intensely he’d just chuckle with slight disbelief, his mind is racing like “I just did that? woah!”. The biggest trouble for him would be gifts, he wants it to be perfect but asking Nejire for advice is not a good idea, roses are too formal and they don’t last long, going to the movies seems a little cliche.. his first gift would end up being a plushie of your favorite animal and a bamboo.

He’d sneak a kiss or two, specially before the class is begginning a training session, he’d send you a text telling you to go outside the changing rooms and oop! He phases through the wall poking out his head to give you a kiss kiss. If you don’t mind a prank from time to time he’d give a little scare using his quirk.

This guy is the big spoon during cuddles, no arguing! He could switch but as time goes by he’d slowly shift into the big spoon, that’s just the way he is, the most usual position would be where you’re facing each other with your limbs wrapping around the other’s body. Waking up with him would be adorable and attractive, morning and night are the only times of the day when his hair isn’t gelled into his All Might-like hairstyle, those blonde locks would frame his face, a heavenly sight.

Would send you a pic of stray animals he rescued with a “:D!” and Sir. Nighteye 'torturing' Bubble girl (half of his head visibly on a corner of the image). If you longed for a pet badly he would bring a nice dog/cat he finds around! In his hero suit to make the moment more special. 

He uses the smiling emojis and emoticons! And shares videos of animals he finds adorable, if you sent him fails videos he'd laugh as long as the falls don't seem extreme or too severe, small trips on the beach or slips on the snow are fine. Mirio sends gifs i just know.

A I Z A W A

Have you taken a look at him? You must be a big The Walking Dead fan to like him lmao. Aizawa gives me an unexplainable gut feeling that he'd prefer a civilian (perhaps quirkless?) significant other over a hero, he wouldn't want his partner to go into the same dangerous situations he does.

His affection is tired, let me explain, he'd hug you and all that physical stuff but it'd kinda feel like his arms fall limply around you, still, even with his minuscule clingyness he loves you with all his might! He doesn't fall for anyone.

Not very fond of PDA, in public he'd preferr temple/forehead kisses and having your hand on the crook of his arm instead of hand holding (thinking about it Iida would do that too), seems more discret and! you don't let go when his hands are busy. He'd initiates it by gently resting your hand on his arm and sinking his hand into his pocket.

Surprise! He does smile, not that maniactic-looking grin he has sometimes during his shifts at U.A when a student impresses him, this one is less wide but somehow more tender and sweet, he tilts his head and for once his eyes seem relaxed, a relationship would make his cheeks hurt.. either for he's not used to smile so much or he smiles more than he thought he would.

If you give him a cat.. that's a strong blow straight to one of his weakest spots, he'd stare both at you and the kitten with a dumbfounded look before picking it up in his arm like a baby, his hand gravitates towards his it's head giving some nice pets before he shows a rare and somewhat bright smile "Thank you very much." Next time have a camera ready damnit! That smile rarely shows up.

He's practical, he wants his gifts to be nice but useful as well. He’d get you those mugs with candies inside, you get the candy and you can use the mug later for your coffee or tea; a power bank with a nice color or design and in case he choses something smaller: a bamboo, those one don’t wither away. Aizawa is fine with whatever you get for him, big or small he appreciates it. Sweaters, scarfs and blankets would be his favorite thing to get though, he likes to stay warm while working late at night

He’s sneaky, as an underground hero he’s used to work at times when the streets look disolated and the dark crime has more freedom to do as it pleases, he wouldn’t want to wake you up unless you asked him to. He’d leave a note on is pillow with the time he wrote it at and a short loving phrase like “i love you, i’ll be back soon, good morning”, before he leaves he’d always lift the sheet up to your neck or drag it away if you seem to be kicking it off you and give you a small kiss.

You’d find him passed out in his sleeping bag with his laptop besides him at random spots of his appartment, if it wasn’t because of the unatura position he adopts to fit in his sleeping bag he’d give you a death scare ‘cause let’s be honest he doesn’t look one hundred percent alive even when he’s awake. “Shota..? Shota can you hear me?!” “I’m not dead.”

Hibrid of big-small spoon. Most of the times you cuddle he’s asleep and you go snuggle him, his hair is a mess so better prepare to get tickled all night. He pull you close the best way he can when you’re behind him, not very comfortable for his arm but it’s worth it. He’d have you like a pillow over him, his chin over your head and both arms around you.

This man doesn’t bother typing when he can use his voice, the only situations he uses regular text messages are when he’s on shift or with you sleeping next to him. Send him gifs of kittens and a ‘i love you’ it instanstly gives him a good mood! He’d send pics of cats he sees around and gifts he bought you, doesn’t use emojis.

*COLLAPSES ON THE GROUND* Big oof- requests are open.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

The Daughter of Aphrodite | Leo Valdez

Hello Lovelies! So I was inspired by my classics class and figured hey, what better than to write about Leo Valdez to make the cravings go away? This is my first Leo fic and I decided to take up a third person perspective because it felt right. It’s really fluffy and I hope you all enjoy! Until next time, all my love!

Description: Leo and y/n have been pining after each other for too long. Her friends help her come up with a plan to get close to him, now she has to cross her fingers that her mother, Aphrodite, doesn’t step in.

Pairing: Leo Valdez x Female!Reader

Warnings: Absolutely none

Word Count: 2.7k

Tags: FLUFF

(Pics not mine but mood board is :) )

Her hands were covered in dirt, a trait most uncommon to a daughter of Aphrodite. Somehow, though, she wore it like a pair of silk evening gloves. Her hair was messy, thrown in a bun atop her head, but every strand that fell around her face seemed as though placed by the gods themselves. Even in chaos she was perfect.

Leo leaned precariously against a two by four, watching the daughters of Aphrodite and Demeter replant the gardens around camp. Well, more like the daughters of Demeter and one daughter of Aphrodite. The rest of the Aphrodite sisters were lounging in the sun, avoiding the mud. He couldn’t help but smile when one of her friends gingerly rubbed some dirt off her face. He could almost hear the girl scold her. Always getting your hands dirty, hun.

“Just talk to her already man.” 

“I have, multiple times. At least a couple times a day.” 

Jason ran a frustrated hand through his hair, watching as his friend watched the girl he loved from a distance. Everyone at the camp knew how Leo felt, everyone except her. She was every bit as pure as she was kind. Not to mention loving, gentle, and patient. She was everything he knew he needed and, even more so, everything he desperately wanted. 

“You know what I mean.”

Leo turned to his best friend, a lazy smile plastered on his face, “I know, man. I will.”

Jason only grumbled before heading off. Leo always said that. Clearly he hadn’t followed through yet. Not that it mattered. No one was exactly raring to go head to head with the boy who could light his entire body on fire. His girl would remain his girl until he could work up the courage to, well, make her his girl. Still, Jason just wanted his friend to be happy. 

Leo watched her for another moment before heading off to do what he was supposed to be doing; fixing the door for the sons of Ares. 

Across the green, musical giggles filled the spaces between the chatter. Her laughs were contagious, the Demeter girls rolling around in the plots they were supposed to be filling with hydrangeas, clutching their stomachs with red faces. The other girls, her sisters, also laughed, just a little more contained. They sipped on pink lemonade, twirling the straws in dainty fingers.

“So you’re telling me,” Arabella, a Demeter daughter with wayward curls, barely contained a chuckle, “you have never been kissed.”

Dawn, one of y/n’s sisters, chimed in with a few of her own runaway giggles, “don’t forget the best part: she’s never been kissed because every time a boy gets close, mother steps in!”

They collapsed again in another fit, filling the camp with some much needed life. She smiled sweetly, cheeks blushed like an angel, giggling right along with them. It was funny after all. She liked making her friends smile, it made her feel warm inside. 

“Is it really true? Every time a boy has gone to kiss you Aphrodite has stepped between it?’

Her voice was pure honey, slow and sugary, “oh yes. One time, right as a boy leaned in, a bolt of lightning struck the ground, right at his feet. I’m not sure what she told Zeus to get him to do it. Mother has her ways, I'm sure.”

“Well,” the giggles died down but the atmosphere remained light, “if you could kiss any boy here, without Aphrodite striking him down that is, who would it be?”

Her eyes widened a touch at the question. One boy immediately swam to her mind but she brushed it away quickly, her smile still neatly in place. She knew for a fact that he wasn’t interested in her like that so there was no reason to offer his name to the group. Regardless, though, her heart still fluttered for a certain son of Hephaestus. 

She coiled a loose strand of hair around her finger, her charm bracelet jingling gently on her wrist, “hmm, I’m not sure.”

Her sisters eyed each other cheekily before peering around the camp. When their gaze landed on precisely who they had been looking for, they giggled a collective hum. 

“How about him, hun? Would you kiss him if you could?” Daisy nodded her glass across the field.

Her eyes wandered with her sister’s gesture, past a couple of younger campers playing a game, to a boy fixing what looked like the door to the Ares cabin. Silly boys, always rough housing. That cabin had to have the window fixed just last week. Her eyes lingered on him a little longer than they should have considering she was trying to convince her sisters that she didn’t like him. Her soft lip pulled between her teeth as he ran a hand through his hair. 

Giggles erupted around her again, pulling her from her daze with heated cheeks, “Leo? He would never kiss me.”

The giggles only increased. Her eyes shifted quickly to the Ares cabin, hoping to Zeus that her group wasn’t causing too much of a scene. She wasn’t so lucky. Her eyes met Leo’s brown ones from across the lawn, her nose instantly burning. She tried to look away, she wanted to. Well, she thought she wanted to, at least, but his eyes held hers in a way that made it impossible to look anywhere else. 

She bit her lip again and he smirked, his lips pulling tight in a way that should be a crime. His skin caught the light like a gem, shining from his labour in the hot sun. When he noticed her eyes, drawing over his face and arms, his grin widened and her heart stuttered dramatically. When he winked at her and went back to work, her heart stopped. 

“Oh, hun,” Arabella’s hand swept under her chin, pulling y/n’s focus from the fire boy, “you’re clueless, aren’t you? Have your sisters taught you nothing? That boy is smitten.”

Sarah Beth, her eldest sister, huffed indulgently, a teasing smile on her rosy lips, “oh we tried, Ara, trust us we did. Sis is helpless. Blame it on mother.”

Y/n whined, the sound like one of Apollo’s harps, “what do I do? I’m cursed!”

Even in her torment she giggled, rubbing her cheek affectionately in Arabella’s palm. Arabella smiled lovingly, an idea sparking as she pulled y/n’s face back up. It was a foolproof one, too. Arabella looked at her wide eyes, watching them dart across the green to the boy she was clearly head over heels for. Yes, it needed more than anything to be foolproof.

Arabella poured a fresh glass of lemonade, taking extra care to mix enough ice with the pink liquid. She plopped a straw in it, stirring it once, twice, three times before shoving it in y/n’s perfectly polished nails. 

Her eyebrows scrunched, a cute confusion laid over her features, “I have lemonade, Bella.”

Arabella had to stop herself from rolling her eyes, “it’s not for you,” her eyes tilted to Leo, “he looks thirsty, hun. I think he wants a drink.”

“I don’t think lemonade is what he’s after,” Sara Beth didn’t look up from her own drink but her cat like grin said it all.

Her sisters had to stifle another wave of giggles as she gingerly passed the lemonade back and forth between her hands, contemplating whether or not to go to him. When she looked over at him for the hundredth time in an hour, she made up her mind. It was now or never.

She stood, much too gracefully for a girl with a heart racing a mile a minute, and took a deep breath, “please, mother, do be nice. He’s a lovely boy. I really like him.”

“Go get him, tiger,” Arabella nudged her gently towards the mechanic, a proud smile on every girl in and around the flowerbeds.

The walk across the green felt like it was never ending and much too short all at the same time. Every step that she took towards his crouched figure she debated downing the liquid herself and then running away. But no, she couldn’t. He was like a magnet, drawing her towards him with ridiculous ease. He didn’t even know he was doing it, that was the worst part. The tips of her ears felt hot, her feet stopping a few feet away from him. Oh, gods, what did she get herself into this time?

Leo’s hands stalled, a flowery scent curling around his face and clinging to his skin. He closed his eyes, breathing in as much of it as he could. That had to be what heaven smelled like, he just knew it. Like chrysanthemums and honeydew. Yes, he knew for certain. He drew another breath. Gods, he couldn’t get enough. 

“Hey, Leo,” her voice went high, her words like unintentional poetry, “whatcha working on there?” 

Why did she say that? She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. So silly, what did it look like he was doing? When she opened them Leo was looking at her, a loose grin on his lips, a glint in his chocolate eyes. Her chest squeezed fervently.

“I’ll give you one guess,” his eyes glanced to the door before landing back on her, peering at her from his seat on the ground.

She scrunched her nose at him, trying not to giggle as he stood to face her, “oh ha ha, very funny.”

Leo laughed easily, a sound less honeyed than her own but still so sweet, “that’s my job. Well, when I’m not picking up after Ares’ sons. Can you believe they split the door in half?”

She glanced up at him, her doe eyes dancing over his tanned skin and black curls, unable to fight the butterflies that bounded inside her chest. He really was something. She held the glass a touch tighter when she breathed in his motor oil and nutmeg scent. She was certain this was what Olympus smelled like, not that she’d ever been.

“Honestly yes, I can,” she met his eyes again, sucking in a small breath when they drew down her body to the drink she had yet to hand over.

His eyes flitted back to hers and darkened a touch, a knowing smirk plastered on his lips, “say, is that for me, cariño?” 

Her cheeks flamed and she knew if she lifted a hand to them they would be hot to the touch. How fitting. 

“Erm,” she stalled, pulling her lip between her teeth once more, her eyes shifted to the grass at her toes, “I thought you might like some lemonade? If not that’s ok! It was silly of me, I’m sorry, I can just-”

Leo’s hand closed around hers, pulling the glass, and by default her, closer to his heady nutmeg chest, “I’d love some, thank you.”

His voice had lost its playful edge, only the soft warmth remained. He lifted the glass to his lips, drawing her hands with his as he took the first sip. She could practically hear her sisters swoon from across the grass. Wow, she’s really doing it isn’t she? Way to go, sis! Her whole body heated this time, her neck to her toes consumed by lapping flames. It was intoxicating.

Leo took the glass from her hands and set it on the step beside him, the taste of strawberries pungent on his lips. When he glanced back at her, he ran his tongue across his lip. The light hit her in a way that was entirely ethereal, clinging to her skin in a way that defied the laws of physics. It was maddening, like standing next to one of the muses themselves. God’s when did this ever happen to someone like him?

“It’s my sister’s recipe,” she fiddled with her fingers, lost with what to do without the glass to hold onto, “I hope you like it.”

He closed the small gap between them even more, pulling her fingers into his. Her heart skyrocketed, his hand was warm and calloused. His fingers fit too perfectly into the spaces between her own. Was it normal to be this breathless?

“It was sweet,” he squeezed his hand in hers, his voice carefree but low.

He slipped his other arm around her waist, thanking the gods for wherever his courage was miraculously stemming from. She practically buzzed in his arms, her melon and flower perfume melting around him. He bit the inside of his cheek. Was it perfume, or was it just her supple skin?

“I like sweet things,” he mused, revelling in the way her eyes widened, catching his innuendo without missing a beat. 

Her mind was stuck on his hand. It was on her back, low on her spine, his fingers lightly tickling up and down. She avoided arching into his fingers. It was heavenly. He was good with his hands and it showed.

Her eyes brushed over him once more, stopping on his lips for a millisecond too long, “she makes muffins too.”

He tightened his arm around her, drawing the daughter of Aphrodite against his chest. Gods, she was soft.

“I don’t want muffins, cariño.”

Now or never, Leo. He leaned his head down, his nose brushing hers sweetly.

Please, mother, let me have this. She tilted her head up, her hands sliding up his chest. 

Leo’s lips found hers at the same time her hands circled his neck. His lips were slow, testing to see if she would kiss him back, as if it was even an option for her not to with the way the flames, his flames, were licking at her skin. How did he do it? She felt like the sun; his lips tasted like fire and recklessness. And strawberries, a bushel of them.

She took his sweet kiss, savoured it, and then slammed her lips back against his, slipping her hands into his raven locks and tugging-- hard. He moaned softly against her sweet lips, giving in to every demand her mouth challenged. How could her lips be sweeter than the lemonade? He clutched her harder against him. 

She pulled back only when her lungs demanded it, leaning her forehead against his heaving chest. She took the staggering lack of lightning as a good sign as a dizzying warmth filled her chest. He pressed his face against her hair, nuzzling against her sweetness lovingly. He had been waiting forever for that and he wasn’t about to let her go just yet.

Her fingers slid back down his chest, curling around his shirt, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you, Leo.”

What? He pulled his head away from her hair, staring into her doe eyes confused. And then he laughed, a full laugh that had his whole chest shaking and hers as well, before drawing his lips back to hers. He tugged her bottom lip between his lip, his hands squeezing her hips fiercely. She’s mad, beautiful but out of her mind. Gods.

“Cariño,” his lips brushed over hers, his words mingling with her breaths, “I kissed you. And trust me, I wanted to. Believe it or not, I don’t owe anything to the Ares’ brothers. You, on the other hand, have all my time at your disposal.”

He didn’t wait for her to answer before closing his lips over hers. There was a lot of lost time he was more than ready to make up for.

Meanwhile, across the green stood Jason, Sarah Beth, and Arabella, their heads close together but their eyes glued to the Ares cabin.

“I’m taking credit for this,” Jason and Arabellas’ voices mingled, proud and in sync.

Their eyes flashed to each other, “no, I did this!”

Sara Beth just giggled lusciously, twirling the straw of her own lemonade in lazy circles.

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Something Domestic

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: You never thought your life to be grand, but you never saw as absolutely terrible either. You were always happy with the things you had, but the one thing that you always wanted was to find love. Little do you know love is just two steps away, and across the hall.

Square Filled: Neighbor AU @marvelfluffbingo

Warnings: super cute fluff, anxious Bucky, shy reader, slight smut, implied smut, slight angst 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3573

A/N: This originally was going to be a platonic Sebastian Stan x reader fic, but I got inspired to do something else. I was somewhat inspired by a TikTok POV called Two Lost Souls by hlovesmarvelpov which is where I got the idea to write what life was like for Bucky in Romania. I want to give credit to @nix-akimbo whose art I used in the collage for this story. Pics are linked here, here, and here. Other images we're found off of Pinterest, but the collage is mine made on Canva. Everything in italics is 3rd person POV of Bucky’s thoughts. This is not beta read, so all mistakes are mine.

Enjoy!

I never knew where life would lead me. I knew I wasn’t going to find something to do to make me rich. All I really wanted was to find a good job that paid me enough to get by. Living in Romania was an absolute dream. It was so beautiful, and it was always so interesting. Everyday felt like a new adventure. At the market you never knew who was gonna show up, or what was going to happen.

One day while at the market, just shopping for some fresh produce to restock my apartment with for the week, I saw an interesting looking man. I had never seen him before, and he definitely didn’t look like he was from around here. Something about him drew me in, but I was too shy to approach him to say hello.

I was definitely at that age where I was ready to look for mister right, and finally settle down. I seemed to have met every guy in this city, and none of them were to my liking. They all seemed very bold, manly, and had egos bigger than some of the buildings. That wasn’t really something I was looking for, and to be fair it was probably just part of their personalities, no judgement there.

There was something about this stranger though that was different. Yes, he was very handsome and buff, but he looked very shy and reserved. Not something I was used to, and that probably contributed to why I was so attracted.

He seemingly glanced my way, and I turned to look away. I knew I must have been staring and I felt awkward about that. So, I quickly finished up my shopping and ran home. I really hoped though that I didn’t make him think that I found him creepy. Damn my shyness, and anxiety.

It had been a few days since I saw the stranger at the market. I was walking down the street to my office when I happened to pass him by. He seemed to pause his gaze for a quick second before looking away. I walked past him at a decent pace, hoping he would make the first move to say hi, but alas, he did not.

The week went by, and it came time for me to head back to the market to restock my produce for the week. I ended my shopping spree and turned to head home when I ran right into someone's very muscular chest. I almost fell back when the person grabbed my arm, catching me.

“Are you okay, miss?” The person asked, speaking Romanian.

“I am fine thank you.” I looked at the person, and it was the stranger I saw last week.

“You’re welcome. Sorry I knocked you over.”

“Please, don’t apologize. I was the one who bumped into you.”

“At least allow me to help you carry your groceries home.”

I nodded and handed him a bag. He gestured for me to start walking, and I led him to my apartment complex. “My place is a bit messy, I wasn’t expecting anyone to come over to see it.” I said, going to unlock the door.

“Don’t apologize, I won’t go in if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I feel bad having you follow me all this way, and not even offer you a snack or something.”

“You’re too sweet. I’m okay, doll. I’ll stay out here. It also wasn’t too out of the way for me.”

“Are you sure?” I reached my hand out to take the bag he was holding.

“I’m sure,” he handed me the bag and turned to walk away, “and if you need me, I live just across the hall.” He walked over, unlocking his door, and opening it.

I almost fell back in shock. How did I not know this man lived across the hall from me? I surely would have seen him walking out. He turned and smiled at me before walking into his apartment. I tried not to look shocked, but all this time I had no idea he was living just 5 steps away. 

I close my door quickly and go to put my produce away. I tried to keep the stranger off my mind, but that seemed like an impossible task. Then, I thought of the perfect idea, I would invite him over for dinner. I wanted to get to know him, I needed to. Put all these wandering thoughts to rest.

I made us a lovely dinner of chicken and potatoes. I set everything up to look somewhat nice, and go to knock on his door. When I went to open my door to walk out, he was standing there ready to knock on my door.

He had a bouquet of different assorted flowers. I give him a small, shy smile as he hands them to me. I, of course, take them and find a vase to put them in. As I put them in the water, I look over at him, and he looks kind of sad.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you expecting someone? I didn’t mean to come off straight forward. I just-”

“I wasn’t technically. I was going to ask you if you wanted to join me for dinner?”

“Really?” He perked up, and I nodded my head, “I was going to ask you the same thing. A home cooked meal sounds better than one you can get at any restaurant.” He chuckled.

We sat down, and talked for hours. He avoided some of the questions I asked him, but I wasn’t going to push him for answers if he didn’t want to answer them yet. We laughed, joked, and just enjoyed each other’s company. 

“I realised that I never asked for your name, doll.” He spoke up.

“My name is Y/n. I never asked yours either.”

“I guess we both figured it would come up eventually. My real name is James, but you can call me Bucky.”

I smiled as I thought of what a lovely name that was. I didn’t ask why he preferred Bucky over James. Something in me wanted to make him love it, adore it. I wanted him to treasure his given name as I was right now.

The night came to an end much to our dismay. I didn’t want to say goodnight though. I wanted him to stay, which wasn’t like me at all. I usually said yes to one date, and that was that. I don’t know what was different about Bucky, but he brought out a new side of me. He intrigued me, and I had to know more about him.

“Until next time, doll. Promise you won’t bump into another guy before then?” He chuckled.

I giggle, “I promise. You’ll be the only guy I bump into now. At least that’s my hope.”

He kissed my cheek before walking to his door, and I could have sworn I was flying. If that was the way it felt when he kissed my cheek, what would it feel like if he kissed my lips.

~*~

Over the course of three months every Sunday Bucky and I had dinner together. We started with switching off, but slowly Bucky had been taking over our Sunday night dinners. Tonight when I went over I realised that I was slowly moving into his apartment. 

“You okay doll?” He asked, looking at my far off look.

“Yeah. I just realised it looks like I’m starting to take over your apartment.”

“That was one thing I was going to ask you about tonight.”

“I’m so sorry, I’ll pick up my stuff and take back to my place i didn’t-”

“Not that. I was going to ask if you wanted to move in together. It doesn’t have to be in my apartment, and I know we’ve only been together for a few months, but-”

“You want to move in together?”

Bucky just nods slowly, and I rush to hug him. I no longer had to wonder what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his arms. I no longer had to feel that lonely feeling I felt after our Sunday night dinners. I tried to keep my mind from racing with all the things I had wondered about. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bucky chuckles, squeezing me back.

After dinner, we walked over to my apartment to get some extra blankets and pillows. I hoped I hadn’t rushed him into this by slowly looking like I was trying to move myself in on my own. I hadn’t even realised that our hangouts had left with me leaving my belongings all over the place.

“My place is your place now.” He spoke up, placing the blankets he was carrying on the bed.

“I didn’t rush you into this did I?”

“No. I know it seems quick, but I just get this feeling when I’m around that makes me not want to take things as slow as we probably should.”

“I was worried I was rushing you into things. I didn’t even realise that I was leaving things over at your house.”

“No. I have been planning on asking you for a few weeks now.”

I smile as we curl into bed together for the very first time. He was warm, and I felt safe laying in his arms. Laying there for the first time in a long time, I fell asleep almost immediately.

~*~

It has been 6 months since Bucky and I started seeing each other, and it has been the best 6 months of life. Even the last 3 months have been amazing. I have enjoyed every minute I have spent with Bucky. He is sweet and kind, and I couldn’t ask for anyone better. He had my heart in his hands, and I didn’t want it back.

The only thing that was strange is he didn’t talk about his life at all. He wanted to hear all about my life, but he wouldn’t speak about his life prior to coming to Romania. I knew he originally came from America because we both switched from speaking Romanian to English when we are alone.

“Is everything okay, doll?” Bucky asked, tearing me from my thoughts.

“I was just thinking.”

“About what? You know you can tell me anything right?”

“Tell you, yes. Ask, no.” I kind of snapped as I stood up to put my plate in the sink.

“Is everything okay?” I could hear the panic in his voice, and I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I knew I had to say something, or it would eat me alive.

“I just don’t get why you want to hear all about me, but avoid questions about your life. I get it if you don’t want to talk about it now. I just don’t like it when you dodge it altogether.”

“Okay I understand that, and I’m sorry.”

Bucky really was sorry. He didn’t want to scare her away with the horrors of his past. He wanted her to know more about him. He wanted her to know that he is way older than what she may think he is. That he fought side by side with Captain America during WWII. 

He couldn’t get the words out though. He would lie awake at night trying to figure out how to tell her. Even on the nights when he found it hard to sleep, and he couldn’t lay there anymore, he wanted to wake her and just spill all the stories. 

He found warmth and comfort in her, but he didn’t want to haunt her with his past. He couldn’t taint such an angel like her, no matter how bad he wanted her to know. To hear her voice break just a little as she expressed how she felt broke him.

“You don’t have to be sorry. I just want you to know that it hurts me a little whenever you don’t give an explanation.”

“I want to tell you all about my life, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’m sorry.” His eyes went down, and my heart broke for him.

“James, look at me please?”

Bucky loved when she called him James. It was like she was trying to teach him to love his given name, and it was working. It rolled off her tongue so sweetly, and it came out so easily. He couldn’t help but obey when she asked him in that sweet tone of hers.

“The fact that you want to is enough for me right now. I’m not upset,” I smile sweetly at him, and walk over, placing my hand on his, “I don’t want to push. When you are ready, my love, I will be here waiting to listen contently.”

Bucky’s heart sighed in relief. He was worried that he had mucked everything up. He cared too much about her to let himself ruin things. If she wasn’t content with his response he would have told her everything. If it meant keeping her happy, he would give her the world. 

~*~

My conversation with Bucky seemed to have gone well. He slowly started to open up little by little. He was a bit vague, but at least he was trying. The first time he actually opened up a little was the first night I had noticed he was having a nightmare.

He was tossing and turning in his sleep, and I began to worry. I had heard never to wake someone up from a nightmare, so I sat there till he shot up. He was covered in sweat, and breathing heavily. He went to lay back down not realising I was already awake until I turned on the light. He looked over with sad, apologetic eyes. I just laid my hand on the small of his back letting him know everything was okay.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn't, I was already awake.”

I caressed his cheek, rubbing my thumb against his cheek. He slowly leaned in, and I followed until our lips came together. Sparks flew between us, and I felt butterflies. His lips were soft and gentle. The gentle kiss though soon turned into more. 

Bucky was gentle and slow. Making sure he wasn’t pushing my comfort level, and made sure he wasn’t hurting me. It felt amazing, and was the best night ever. I hoped that with Bucky and I becoming so intimate he would see that no matter what, I wasn’t going to go anywhere.

Bucky wasn’t sure how Y/n would feel if he initiated the kiss, but she put just as much passion into it as he did. He pushed into it more, and she returned it. Before he knew it he was on top of her naked body. He made sure he didn’t push her to do something she didn’t want to, but he could tell in her eyes she had been waiting a long time for this moment.

He made sure to be as gentle with her as he possibly could, but the urge to be inside her was too much for him to bear anymore. The room was filled with their moans as their bodies were connected so intimately.

Bucky felt that everything was going to be okay between them after that night. He held her as tight as possible after that, and was able to sleep through the rest of the night. Maybe he was worried about nothing. He felt like he could do anything now as long as he had her by her side.

~*~

“James, will you run out and get some fruit for me?” I hollered from the kitchen.

Bucky came into the room as he finished getting dressed, “anything specific you want?”

“No, just something I can turn into jam. The stand has been doing really well, and I’m running low on fruit.”

Bucky smiled as he walked over to me kissing my cheek, “anything for you, doll.”

Bucky left shortly after that, and I started to package the batch I had already made. Once I finished jarring what I had, I went to the walk-in pantry we had and started to shelve them. I thought I heard the door open so I called out to Bucky, but I got no answer.

“Everything alright out there my love?” I walked out of the pantry to be met by a man dressed in an all blue outfit. He was carrying a shield on his back that was red, white, and blue with a white star in the center.

He was looking through our kitchen, and I began to panic. I had no idea who this man was, or why he was in our apartment. I couldn’t find words to say when he noticed me.

“Where is Bucky?”

“Why do you want to know?” I asked, speaking in Romanian.

The man just turned around and looked at the top of the fridge. He pulled down a book, and that’s when I felt a hand on the small of my back. I jumped slightly at first then I realised it was Bucky behind me.

The stranger turned around, and saw Bucky. He started asking weird questions like if Bucky knew him, or why he pulled him from a river? All of it was so confusing and worrying to me. Before I knew it we were being attacked by the police. 

Bucky took off and I tried to follow him, but the stranger told me to stay put. Once the fight took the streets, I tried to follow on foot. By the time I got where I thought they would come out of, they were being surrounded. Bucky was being shoved to the ground and handcuffed. 

“James!” I yelled, rushing to him, and fighting the blockade of police.

They shoved me back, but I fought back harder. It was no use though as they loaded Bucky into a huge truck. I felt like my world had just come crashing down on me. Everything that happened this last year all came flooding back to me. I knew I had to get Bucky out of there. He was an innocent man, and I knew as long as we had each other, there would be nothing we couldn’t conquer.

~*~

Y/N tried to move on as best she could, but her heart felt empty. The day they took Bucky away in handcuffs was the day her heart left her. She closed her stand in the market, and went back to her dead end job. She moved out of their shared apartment because the thought, or even smell of him was too painful.

Y/n thought that the love of her life was gone forever. She even thought about moving away permanently, but loved the city too much to do that. The once bright and bubbly girl went back to her old reclusive self before she met him. No one had ever put the light back into her. Her smile was gone, and she hardly ever laughed anymore.

She was returning home from work one night, and decided to take the long way home. She wandered towards her old apartment complex as she often did. Ignoring the weird looks she got from the people she passed by, she kept her eyes to the ground. That was her mistake as she was lost in thought when she bumped into a muscular chest, almost falling to the ground. 

A firm gentle hand grabbed her arm kept her from falling, and she fought back tears as she remembered her very first full encounter with Bucky. “I’m sorry, I should have been paying attention.” Her voice broke as she fought back the pain, not wanting to look the stranger in the eyes.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I almost knocked you over.”

“Please don’t apologize. I was-”

“The one who bumped into me?” 

Y/n heard the man chuckle and almost felt like she could hear Bucky behind the chuckle. She gained enough courage to look up at the stranger who she bumped into, and the person she saw was not who she was expecting.

“You okay doll? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

She didn’t even hesitate to jump into his arms. It was the reunion she waited almost two years for. He picked her up and held her tightly as if he let her go, she would disappear. Y/n nuzzled her face in the crook of his neck taking in his scent.

“I’m sorry I left you. I-”

“It’s not your fault James. You’re back, and that’s all that matters.”

Bucky pulled away slightly from the hug to look her in the eyes. He pulled her in for a soft, gentle kiss. For the first time since that terrible day, Y/n smiled into the kiss. Now that they were back in each other’s arms, she finally felt like her heart was put back together. 

She didn’t care what happened, she was just happy to have him back in her arms. She was happy he was safe and sound with her again. The light in her eyes had returned, and Bucky felt like he was falling in love with her all over again. The world could throw whatever it wanted at him now. He had his girl back, and he felt like he could overcome anything as long as he kept her by his side for the rest of his life.

[orionwhispers]

Swan Song// Thomas Shelby 🍸

(A.N )- holy shit. holy shit. you guys... its finally finished. it took months but its finally done!!here is the long awaited and highly requested lolita wedding. im so happy you guys finally get to read it! i feel like my baby has all grown up lol. there might be errors and stuff bc its 16k words and im exhausted but hopefully you enjoy it. thanks for being so wonderful and patient. ily) also sorry for all the pics in the moodboard being white i try and be inclusive but smh pinterest sucks sometimes, anyone is welcome here. we are all hoes for tommy)

Trigger Warnings; so much fucking fluff, implied smut, some angst and mention of past injury.

PART 1  PART 2

It was one of those dreamy midsummer nights.

When even the sun didn’t want to retire for the evening; the sky a rich, milky blue, and the air still thick and warm like honey. You were on the window seat, clad in one of Ada’s many wedding presents, a blush silk slip and matching robe, a gift she had brought back from her week in Boston.

You were happy. Irrevocably so. The floor and love seat crowded with the people you held closest to your heart, the room smelt of expensive vanilla candles and strawberry wine, and the deep throaty rumble of laughter filled every empty space.

It was perfect. Well - almost.

You missed him.

It was only one night apart, you had spent longer times separated when he went out of town for business or you had a rambunctious girls weekend with Ada and Esme - but still you missed him entirely.

You knew he missed you too. That much was obvious from the disdain on his face when Arthur and Polly laid bare their plans for the night before your wedding. There hadn’t been time for an engagement party let alone a bachelor party - a few weeks after announcing the news Tommy had been due to attend to some business in New York, and he was adamant that you were to come along. He wanted to treat you, show you the vibrant city and all of the glitz and glamour of Broadway, but you knew that was only part of the reason. He didn’t like you out of his sight for too long, the wound on your chest might have been puckering into a scar but the pain was still fresh in his mind and his overprotectiveness had tripled.

After a brilliant few weeks away in the big apple, filled with passionate, breathless kisses and red satin dresses and driving hand in hand down the Brooklyn bridge, you finally returned home - but much like the city you had just left, Thomas Shelby had no time for sleeping. He was knee deep in new deals and navigating his partnership with Alfie Solomon’s, as well as his new venture of manufacturing gin. Despite the long nights and the early mornings, you never felt neglected. You loved him, all of him, and that included his workhorse nature and tenacity. And besides, he struggled being away from you, finding himself noticing the lack of warmth in his office, when at home you would be perched on his lap, pressing dizzying kisses to the base of his neck. He missed the sound of your laugh and the way that you giggled, biting your lip innocently, making him want to bite it even harder.

He loved you, and that god awful summer had shown him that all he truly cared about was having you by his side. So for every night he was at the office, or every morning he was out of bed before you woke up, he made it up to you with a weekend away, or a signed first edition of your favourite book, or a piece of jewellery he had made for you. They might have been material things, but the meaning couldn’t be clearer, he was hopelessly, dangerously, completely, in love with you.

His main present to you though, arrived a few days after his sudden proposal in his office.

He originally wanted to take you into London, show you the finest jewellers by the water and let you choose anything that caught your eye - only the best for his best girl - but, after everything, his plans had changed.

Truthfully, marriage had been on the tip of his tongue since that very first day he locked eyes with you in the Garrison. He knew he had to have you, even before he knew your name, and by the time the two of you first kissed, tasting like sweet strawberries and cigarettes, he knew you would be the woman to take his.

But things got in the way. Marriage wasn’t as simple as it might have been for the people you passed in the streets. Marriage to him was like putting a target on your back, it meant your entire life being intertwined with his, the whole world knowing that you were the woman that made him fall to his knees. It would take everything from you, and the darkness would slowly start to seep into the light that surrounded you, and he needed to keep you safe for as long as he could. He knew he was going to marry you, it was just as clear in his mind as it was that he was the leader of the Blinders, you were the missing piece in his puzzle.

But of course, his plans were blown to smithereens when the bullet shattered your collarbone that summers eve. His visions of red roses and rich wine and getting on one knee, feeling like a goddamn kid again when you gave him that smile as he pushed the ring onto your finger, were flung to the wind. And instead, his honeyed words were swapped with breathless desire and need, whispered in your hair as you were cradled in his arms, in the afterglow of such a dreadful day.

The one thing he knew he could get right, however, was the ring.

It had to be special. It had to be you. Something soft and sweet and gentle, but with an edge - sharp and strong and beautiful. Of course, it would be impossible to find any diamond or pearl that could compete with your beauty, but he wanted you to have the best.

That wasn’t the only reason though.

It had more to do with the jewel that had hung around your neck that day at the ball, the one that haunted him when the sky got dark and you were fast asleep beside him. He had come so close to losing you, only a hair away from the girl he loved being buried, and the thought was driving him mad. He controlled every aspect of his life, but this was something completely out of his grasp, and he needed to stop his dangerous thoughts.

He hadn’t been superstitious since he was a boy chasing his brothers through fields of wildflowers and listening to Polly’s ramblings by the fire, but he had to rule out every possibility. So a few days after he proposed, and with the best doctor in Birmingham giving you the all clear (and triple checking that the house was secured and being watched by practically a small army of Blinders - and a stern warning to Michael, Isaiah and Finn that if even a hair on top of your head was misplaced by the time he got back, none of them would be able to have any children)- he set off.

He told you he was signing a deal in Manchester, but he was really only a few miles away, at the campsite where he had spent the majority of his youth. It was all rolling hills of deep emerald and jade, and fog that curled and twisted around his ankles, and for the first time in a long time, he felt out of place. He had chosen the ring with the help of Polly, who was adamant she knew your taste better than him, something he vehemently denied.

It was beautiful and unique, just like you, and he never felt such a profound rush of love quite like when he pictured slotting it onto your finger. It was big, but not overly so - nothing tacky or too much, Tommy knowing that you never wanted anything glimmering or gaudy and that you’d probably hit him and then faint if you knew the price. But, in his eyes - nothing was too expensive for his little girl. Besides, he particularly liked the way the ring shone in the light, imagining all the men that would fuck off and leave with their tail between their legs when they saw it and realised that the most beautiful woman in the room was already spoken for.

The diamond was brilliant and a “Princess” cut, something that made him smirk because it was one of his favourite pet names for you, and he couldn’t imagine anything more fitting. The band was solid gold, two different paths that intertwined and curled like summer vines, making him think of the lightness and whimsy you carried around you. What really sold him though, were the soft, twinkling rose quartz gems that cocooned the diamond.

“For protection.” Polly had muttered as he twisted the ring between his fingers under the dim lighting in the store. He had rolled his eyes when she spoke but secretly the meaning behind them made his gut twist. Protection was something that he needed you to have in abundance, even if it came from small crystals the size of a half grain of rice.

The ring was so perfect. So rare and alluring and undeniably you, and he walked out the door with the feeling of pure content, something that only even happened when he thought of you. But he knew there was more for him to do. He sent Polly home, ignoring the raised eyebrows she gave him and brushed off the sixth sense his Aunt had always had. And with the ring safely nestled in its plush navy box in his breast pocket, he drove off.

The campsite felt like the past. It felt as though he was visiting somewhere deep in the confines of his mind, somewhere that he had locked and stored away and forgotten about, only now being able to see through the thick haze of smog. He met the elderly woman by the doors of her caravan, noticing the difference between his sharp suit and the furs and shawls she had covering her body. She smiled and invited him in, pouring him a cup of something that smelt like sap and crisp autumn apples.

“It’s been a long time, Thomas.” She said, eyes so dark they almost looked black as she watched him curiously.

“That it has.”

“What brings you to this part of the woods then? I thought you would have forgotten about the rest of us.”

It was a dig, but he refused to rise to it. He wasn’t in the mood for petty jibes.

“I’ve been busy.”

“So I hear.” She exhaled, stirring her tea meticulously with a golden spoon. “They tell me you’re practically running the country.”

He smiled softly and falsely, digging his hand deep into his pocket. “Let’s cut to the chase, eh?” He pulled out the small box, opening it in his palm, and twisting it round so that the clear cut diamond was twinkling right before her.

She grinned, leaning forward on her elbows to get a better look. “It’s beautiful. Must have cost a pretty penny.”

“The woman it’s for is worth it.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“I know why you’re here,Tom. The boys told me what happened at that party of yours.”

He cleared his throat, not liking the lack of control he had over the conversation.

“Right, well then. Just tell me what I need to know.”

She closed her eyes, muttering something under her breath, and Tommy sat back on his haunches, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. Was he really fucking doing this? Sitting in a caravan in the middle of fucking nowhere getting his jewellery cleansed by some batty old woman he knew as a child? It went against everything he believed in, and was the exact opposite of the calm and level headed way he ran his business.

But then he thought of you. And your light. Your sweetness and the sound of your laugh, the curve of your lips and the flowers you wore in your hair and the grass stains on your little white dresses. He thought of the scar that ran along your collarbone, and the feeling of white hot desperation that had coursed through him when he that you might not wake up.

You were worth it. Fuck sensibilities and rationality. He’d drive to the fucking ends of the earth if it meant that it would keep you even just a little bit safer.

After what felt like an age, the woman opened her eyes and raised her head. She used the edge of one of her many colourful scarves to wipe the surface of the gems, her hands moving in quick, rhythmic circles.

“It’s clean.” She said. “There’s nothing bad on it. At least, not that I can see.”

Tommy felt the anvil strapped to his chest suddenly fill and float like a balloon, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he brushed off the relief flooding though his body, and straightened up. “Well I came to the best.”

She smiled, both smugly and bashfully, the way most women felt around Tommy. “That you did my love.”

His fingertips merely brushed the top of the roll of money he had stuffed in his pocket, and the elderly woman sat back, shaking her head at him.

“It’s on the house. Maybe you can bring your girl around one day, I know we’d all like to meet her.”

Not fucking likely he thought. No way in hell would he bring you to a place like this, whilst he still had good memory’s of his youth, he didn’t trust the people that still lurked in the fields around this place.

Wanting to settle the score, he held out a wad of notes. “I insist.”

“And I decline.”

He didn’t like the way the conversation had ended, it didn’t sit quite right with him. He liked to make his deals as open and closed as possible, money was the best way to seal a deal, he didn’t work with favours. “Right, well. Thank you for everything.”

He looked out of the windows of the caravan as he gathered his things. It was starting to get dark, the sky blushing like summer strawberries and freshly sliced peaches, the air still a little thick from the heat. All that he wanted now was to get home to you, everything else had faded to static in his ears. He bit back a grin as he thought of how you would smile, all teeth and round cheeks and wide eyes when he showed you the ring. He imagined it sitting pretty on your finger, the nudge of the jewel against his when you intertwined hands and the way it would dazzle at night, not nearly as beautiful as you as you laid beneath him, sweaty and breathless and ethereal.

As sudden as a gunshot, sharp words from behind him cut through his daydreams like a blade.

“Have you ever considered, Tom?”

He merely paused, not even bothering to spin on his heel and face her. He knew what she was going to say and yet it still felt like a knife digging into a fresh wound as she continued speaking.

“That maybe it’s not the jewels? Maybe it’s you?”

He wasn’t the type of man to back down from a fight, and he was the unrivalled champion of maintaining his composure and remaining calm under every type of pressure, but even he couldn’t deny the shivers that twisted around the bottom of his spine at the implication of her words.

“Yes. I have.”

He could feel her shifting behind him, ready to lure him in, tell him the thing that kept him up at night and clawed at his throat when he watched you sleep; that perhaps he was the poison that seemed to follow you like a dark cloud. He was much too selfish, far too infatuated with you to keep you at arms length. The deafening ache that perhaps you were the reason he finally felt alive, and that maybe he was the reason you would end up buried. 

He didn’t allow himself to think any more, tossing his cash towards her, not even bothering to check if she caught it or if it landed on the floor, instead he raised a hand and walked off, murmuring under his breath. “Keep the change.”

He waited until he was back in his car, with a cigarette between his lips and the sour smell of petrol and ash filling his lungs before he finally inhaled, glad to be out of the fucking fresh air.

—————————————————————

Your reaction was even better than he imagined.

It was dark by the time he eventually got home, and he didn’t miss the buzz of warmth that pulling into the driveway brought. It was bizarre, he had spent so long feeling nothing that meeting you had reignited everything inside of him, he felt like a boy again, nervous and elated to see the girl he loved.

The lights were on, reflecting through the windows like flickering candles, and a pleasant yellow glow engulfed the shadows in the gravel. He could hear voices, (mainly Arthur’s), deep low laughter and the sound of music all throughout the halls. He winced slightly, hoping that whatever ruckus his family had brought wasn’t keeping you from resting. He was certain that this impromptu gathering was his brothers idea of raising your spirits, but Tommy would have felt much more comfortable knowing that you were peaceful and recovering somewhere safe, knowing that you were far too polite to send his family away.

“What the fucks all this noise, eh?” He shouted as entered, his tone was sharp but even he couldn’t stop the tiny grin making its way onto his face as he watched Arthur and John drunkenly dance in the living room.

“Ay! You’re back? How did it go?” Arthur asked, holding out his arms in greeting as his speech slurred.

“Everything’s in order.”

“Hurrah!” Arthur swayed on unsteady legs like a sailor on the rough seas, and

“Bloody hell Arthur, what the fuck are you on?” John laughed,

“It’s a celebration, brother.”

Tommy pushed him aside playfully, tuning out the sound of their bickering as he strode further in the living room, eyes brushing past all of the faces crowded around, his heart stopping when he finally found the one he was after.

You were curled up on the sofa by the fireplace with your legs tucked underneath you, your face flushing deliciously, the spark slowly reigniting inside of you - and Tommy swore that he had never seen something so beautiful. Michael, Isaiah and Finn were crowded around you, looking much younger than their years, playing cards in their hands and big, toothy grins, occasionally accusing the other of cheating. Polly watched from beside the fireplace, something that had once been the beating heart of the house, a place where the two of you coexisted so magnificently. He thought of the flames from the logs and also from deep inside of him, devouring you completely on the hardwood floors, the sound of your moans mixing with the crackle and snap of the kindling. He hadn’t looked at the fireplace since you had been shot, it was too intimate, too personal, memories of early morning laughter and pure carnal hunger when the sun set, his fingertips pressing against the softness of your throat as you melted like paper under him.

Now though, it had been filled with empty wine bottles stuffed with candles, wax dripping and melting down their green glass necks, the room smelling like cherries and lavender. He knew you had put them there, and it made him exhale, because it no longer hurt to look at it, and he knew that eventually, the fireplace would be yours again.

Polly caught his eye from over the sofa, hers glittering and twinkling with suspicion of where her nephew had been, taking a long, poignant drag from her cigarette. He ignored her. He had no doubts that she was completely aware of what he had been doing, and that imagining him back at his roots was conjuring a particular mental image in her head, but right now that was the least of his concern.

He tore though the living room, almost colliding with a dozen bodies, it seemed Arthur had dug up every close acquaintance within twenty miles and invited them over. The room smelt like sour whisky and spilled wine, and he swore he could see his expensive furniture lowering in price by the minute.

He loved his family, he would do anything for them, but God he wished to the highest heavens that they would fuck off so he could spend some time with his girl. If it was up to him the house would be completely empty, nothing but the sound of your laugh and the thump of your heart, fuck everything else.

You were wrapped up in your poker game, head tilted back as you laughed at something Finn had whispered to you, the small creamy corner of your bandage poking out from the collar of your dress. Tommy swore inwardly, the sight making him falter. As quickly as the feeling came, he brushed it away, not wanting you to see him worry, not wanting himself to fall into old and dangerous habits.

Finn saw him first, his youngest brother looking impossibly boyish and playful as he laughed with his friends, a world away from the man he tried so hard to be. One look and he was on his feet, quickly swatting Isaiah and Michael and gathering the cards in his hands. Tommy patted his shoulder fondly, his eyes fixed firmly on you, watching your pupils dilate and sparkle when you finally caught sight of him.

“You’re back.”

Breathless. Angelic. Innocent. It took everything in him to not gather you in his arms and take you upstairs all for himself.

“And you should be in bed.”

He sat down next to you, his knee brushing against yours.

You smelt of home.

Of sweet cinnamon and strawberries and wildflowers, messy hair and woodsmoke. You finally smelt like yourself, not like the chemicals and disinfectants that now filled the halls, making him want to set his whole damn estate alight because the reminders of what they caused were too painful.

“I’ve been resting for weeks, Tommy. Let me have a little fun.”

You gave him that smile. The one that made his knees buckle. The one that would have made him sign his company over to you if you asked - not that there would ever be a time he would say no to you. It was bizarre, how you were sitting there with no makeup on, your hair tied back with a baby pink ribbon, and you were undoubtedly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Alright, alright, enough with the pouting.” He winked at you, making a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt in your stomach. If it had just been the two of you he would have leant in and kissed you stupid, but he didn’t want to give his drunken brothers something else to whoop and tease about. He would save his romantics for later, when you were alone, and he could take his well earned time and leisure to ravage you.

He pulled you close to him, wrapping an arm around the edge of the sofa and over your shoulders, keeping you as close and protected as he possibly could, the simple action comforting him immensely. You snuggled into him, his body so warm and firm and safe, and he pressed a kiss to your neck as you relaxed, his lips scorching you like a brand. He felt his whole body exhale, feeling at ease because he was with the people he loved most in the world, with you tucked into his side like you were carved there, and the feel of your fingertips ghosting over his chest. His life was so fast paced and hectic and his mind was whirring a mile a minute, but at that moment, the there was no where else he would rather be.

His patience lasted exactly 47 minutes. His composure and lenience with his family finally snapped when Arthur bet John that he could do a better handstand than him, proceeded to leap onto his hands, flail about disastrously and then crash right into the console table, shattering an array of fine china and imported vases.

“Oh John, look what you did ya’ stupid cunt.” He said when he got to his feet, his hands slashed to ribbons and blood dripping onto the carpet. Esme rolled her eyes, grabbing her brother in law by the collar and dragging him out of the room to bandage him up before he inevitably passed out from all the alcohol.

Tommy straightened out next to you as Mary quickly rushed in and gathered the glimmering shards with a dustpan and brush. He heaved himself to his feet, reluctant to withdraw from your side, and he cleared his throat once before speaking. “Alright, that’s enough for tonight, everybody fuck off.”

You rolled your eyes at his terrible bedside manner, tugging on the edge of his rolled sleeve playfully, making a small smile cross the edge of his lips. Polly pressed a hand to your shoulder as she herded the boys out of the room, each of them mumbling drunken goodbyes and pressing whisky stained kisses to your cheeks, mindful of the placement of their hands and your scar, mainly because of Tommy’s sharp, warning glare.

Johnny Dogs grumbled something along the lines of parting, but instead passed out face down on the carpet, his body rising and falling with heavy snores. Tommy waited rather impatiently as you said goodbye to the remaining guests, wanting nothing more than some well earned solace with his girl.

When you were finally alone, the moon dancing across your skin through the large open windows, soft music filling the room and the smell of sticky split wine following you both, he pulled you into his arms. He looked at your face and smiled. You were ethereal. Golden and glowing in the twilight, eyes sparkling like diamonds. Your face had changed a little in the time you had been together, your body and mind maturing and adapting, but you still looked so young. A breath of clear, fresh air amongst all of the smoke.

He lifted his hand to wipe a few specks of shimmering rose rouge from your cheeks, evidently left from where Esme hugged you goodbye, but you got there first, playfully taking his finger in your mouth and gently sucking and biting at his fingertip.

He felt a fire ignite in his stomach and his trousers tighten. How were you - so small and sweet and innocent, able to control his body like you were a master puppeteer and he was nothing but wood and string? It was baffling to him, an enigma that he craved to solve but knew that he never could. He was completely and incurably love sick.

You were going to be the death of him.

He pulled you even closer, freeing himself from your grip and taking your head in his hands, smashing his lips onto yours. You melted into him, practically putty in his hands. His teeth clashed against yours, the kiss was messy and desperate, as though you were two kids determined to make the most of the time you had alone. He felt everything wash off of him, all of his stress and tension melting down his spine like candle wax. Because, with your body flush against his and his mouth pressed up against your own, he was home.

You pulled away shyly and reluctancy, and he felt the absence of your warmth immediately. He moved to drag you back, not done with you just yet, but he followed your gaze to the man on the floor. Johnny had somehow managed to roll over onto his back, still asleep and snoring, but with his eyes half open, his gaze focused on the two of you. Tommy let out a rare, genuine laugh, and it made you feel like somebody had lit a firework in your chest. He wrapped his fingers against your own and tugged softly, his voice deep and rumbling like the ocean.

“Let’s go upstairs, princess. I’ve got something to give to you.”

Your room was safe and it was warm. It smelt like ripe peaches and fresh mint and rolling tobacco, like leather and lace; innocence and sin. It had finally become yours again, interlocked like your fingers, intertwined like your hearts, something so precious and belonging to just the two of you. It had broken his already shattered heart when you were separated, and looking at you now through heavy eyelids as you sat on your knees in bed, waiting expectantly for him to reveal his present, he took a moment to thank whoever was listening for giving him a goddamn angel.

“You need to stop buying me things, Tommy.” You scolded gently, shifting on your legs.

“I’ll do whatever I bloody feel like.” He replied, undoing his cuff links and loosing his tie. He liked to always be properly dressed and sharp, but around you he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in your sweet comfort.

You watched him, so beautiful and angelic looking under the yellow lights. You smiled to yourself at his mussed hair and natural pink pout; the side to him that only ever flared up around you. You kept your eyes trained on him as he rummaged around the room, taking off his jacket and folding it over a chair before turning around and pointing a finger at you.

“Close your eyes.”

You huffed. “Is that really necessary?”

“Close ‘em.”

You looked up at him teasingly, exhaling loudly before closing your eyes. You felt him moving around the room, listening to the soft creaks of the wood and the sound of his footsteps as he approached the bed. He lifted your arm and you giggled as his fingertips ran down your skin, stopping at the middle of your wrist, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. You opened your mouth to speak but before you could he pushed something onto your ring finger. Even with your eyes closed you could feel his smile.

“Open.”

It took you a moment to register what you were seeing, the surprise knocking the air right out of your lungs. Your eyes flickered from him back down to your ring, your mouth agape. You hadn’t really thought about an engagement ring, flashy diamonds weren’t really up your alley and with everything that had happened tradition seemed to have flown out of the window, but you should have known Tommy would always be one step ahead. It was beautiful. So brilliant and classic and totally you, and you could feel tears pricking behind your eyes, your mouth going dry.

“Oh, Tom! Oh, Tommy it’s beautiful!” All of your restraint was gone, and you leapt onto him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he caught you effortlessly, like he always would. He let out a laugh, slightly stunned from your reaction, and the feeling of your lips pressing hot, quick kisses all across his skin. He held you tight, burying his nose in your hair and pulling you impossibly closer.

He felt your lips at the base of his ear, brushing against his flesh as you spoke. “This must have cost a fortune!”

He shook his head, not even needing words to convey his feelings. To him it was obvious. Nothing would ever be too much for you.

You admired it from over his shoulder, watching the hypnotising way that it glimmered in the light. He gently walked forward, leaning you down so that you were in contact with the bed, tilting up your face so that you were looking him in the eye.

“There’s something else.”

“Tommy - ”

He had already started unbuttoning his shirt, and you sat back and watched as his nimble fingers looped down his torso, finally grabbing something underneath and holding it towards you.

You inhaled sharply, feeling yourself floating.

He had your name engraved on a silver dog tag, much like the ones he had thrown into the cut with Freddie along with his medals of honour. This was what mattered to him, your name carved into the metal, dangling right next to his heart, because it was only you who owned it.

Your eyes met, filled with love and lust and true happiness. A week ago you had been lying in bed, terrified that Tommy might not be in love with you, but now it was clear that the two of you were bound together, that you were the safety of a lighthouse to his wandering ship.

He kissed you - greedily and open mouthed, and you fell into him, letting him devour you. His hands worked quickly, desperate to see all of you, everything laid bare for him, with nothing but the ring glinting under the pale light of the moon. He kissed your neck, collarbone, throat, his hands and calloused fingertips brushing your flesh.

“I love you, (Y/N).” He said and you melted. You never felt short of love around him, but hearing those three words was like a hit of heroin, and you were desperate for more. You knew that he was as well, that he craved your stability and the sweetness you gave him, and you pulled his head from the crook of your neck, getting lost in those ocean eyes.

“Oh, Tommy. I love you.”

—————————————————————

The weeks passed, and the ring on your finger still gave you goosebumps when you saw it - a reminder of the man you loved. Life continued, business slowly dripping back into your days, the hazy bubble of love you had entered starting to pop but never fully dissolving. Tommy was adamant that you shouldn’t start back at work, making it very clear to you that he didn’t want you doing anything until he was beyond certain that you were completely healed.

You hated being stuck in the house however, and still managed to find a way to get a very reluctant Michael to sneak in some accounting work for you to do. Something that made Tommy see red when he found out, only to have you pout and preen and make all of his anger subside, although Michael wasn’t as lucky.

Wedding planning hadn’t been on your mind, not with business booming or the wonderful trip to New York. You were happy with everything, dizzied with love and lust and laughter, and whilst your finger had gotten much heavier, there was nothing in your relationship you wanted to change.

That didn’t stop Polly or Ada however from trying to plan the best party England had ever seen.

You remembered a sleepy Sunday morning with the two of them, and the shrill sound they both made when you said that you didn’t want a big wedding.

“What? Finally something bloody good happens to this family and you don’t want us to celebrate?”

You rolled your eyes, dunking your biscuit into your coffee with a smile. “I’m not saying we can’t celebrate, I’m just saying that I haven’t really thought about it, I just want something small.”

“Small? Every woman has dreamt of her wedding day!”

You looked over at Ada, wanting her to back you up against such traditionalist views. Instead, she held up her hands and laughed, shrugging her shoulders. “I hate to admit it, (Y/N) but I agree with Pol! It’s about time this family had something good happen, and you and Tom deserve a bloody wonderful day. I’ve never seen a love story quite like yours.”

You smiled at her kindness but didn’t let up, stirring your tea with your matching spoon.“I don’t want a fuss! I don’t need a big wedding to be happy, I just need him.”

“Well that’s sweet.” Polly interjected. “But I want to buy some new furs and get drunk and wake up next to a man who likes to buy me diamonds.”

You laughed out loud.

“Since when do you need a man to buy you diamonds?” Ada snorted, staring down her aunt over her strawberry filled pastry.

“I don’t. But they always look better when they’ve been bought by someone else.”

You sighed, watching the two of them playfully bicker, feeling so grateful that the stars had aligned and they were now your family.

“So you don’t have any plans? Not even a date or a dress in mind?” Polly asked, her brisk voice cutting through the banter.

“No.” You smiled. “The only thing I’m sure about is the groom.”

Polly rolled her eyes. “Well that’s going to need to change.”

——————————————————————

Slowly but surely you started to fall back into old habits and patterns, picking up where you left off at the Garrison, and meeting Michael and Isaiah for drinks in the city. Tommy was reluctant to loosen his grip at first, so used to having you all over him in the comfort of your own home, safe and warm under the protection of his watchful gaze and gentle hands. He knew that he didn’t own you, and that he couldn’t keep you under lock and key like a prisoner, but he spent those first few weeks anxiously pacing in his study, dreading the phone ringing and finding that you had once again been hurt because of him.

He kept his work as separate from you as he could. He knew you wanted to be by his side through everything, but the wound was too fresh for him, too raw, and he needed to know that you were safe. So he kept his sins and misdemeanours away from you, making his home his sanctuary and you his oasis, finding religion in your lips and solace in your touch.

You were in no hurry to arrange anything. As much as you loved the idea of Tommy being your husband, you were happy to just let things slowly fall into place and try to regain whatever normalcy you had lost - but your future in laws had different plans.

Polly was a whirlwind. She spent the majority of her free time writing letters and phoning different market vendors from all over the world, her office filled with sugar icing and the finest loose leaf tea that money could buy, all gifts from those wanting to cater what was set to be the “wedding of the century.”

You didn’t mind - even when she stole you away for an entire work day to pick out cutlery and matching table runners, or you came back from the department store with pin pricks up and down your body from hours of having dresses fitted. She was happy, and when darkness seemed to follow the family like a storm cloud, you were adamant at grasping at whatever you could get, even if it wasn’t quite what you envisioned.

You knew Tommy found the whole thing hilarious. How his stoic and level headed Aunt had been swept up in lavender and lace, snapping at bakers over mango whipped frosting and arguing about the best way to cook lamb. It made him so damn happy though, when you came home after a long day - eyes tired but sparkling, face flushed and glowing, the way that he always wanted you to be. The distraction was what you needed, something sugar coated and dreamy to blur everything that had happened, and he knew that you were in great hands with Polly.

He couldn’t even deny that he was looking forward to the day. He knew more than anything that he wanted you to be his wife, and whilst he loved shiny, expensive things, all he truly needed was you by his side. He didn’t want a fuss, he wanted whatever you did, but imagining you all wide eyed and honey lipped at the alter, rings forever symbolising your connection, the sound of your first name with his last.

Well, that he liked.

Even though you were feeling a little out of your depth amongst all of the wedding planning, there were some things that you knew that you wanted. Like, the powder pink roses from the bushes Tommy had gifted you for your birthday to line the stairway, and ocean blue forget me nots in the bouquet - to match his eyes. You even had a hazy vision of what you wanted your dress to be, the hours spent walking through boutiques in London with Ada paying off as you debated A line, trumpet, and ball gown style dresses.

The main thing you were certain about, however, was who you wanted by your side throughout the whole thing. You had a feeling he knew something like this was coming, he always did have a way of knowing what you were thinking, but even Michael wasn’t expecting you to leap out of his wardrobe hand in hand with Finn, holding out a small cupcake with a candle on the top one rainy evening.

“Holy shit!” He squealed, watching as you and his cousin broke down in fits of laughter, clutching each other as you toppled onto the floor, jackets and shirts trailing behind you.“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Surprise!” You managed to say in between deep throaty giggles. “We wanted to catch you off guard!”

“Well you fucking did.” He tutted, “Hiding in my wardrobe! Nearly fucking shat myself.”

Your laughter was infectious, and soon all three of you were close to tears, your bodies exhausted and elated, gripping onto one another to stop from completely collapsing.

“So what was the point of this ambush, then?” He asked finally, his hands on his knees as he gasped for air, his face slowly returning to its normal colour.

You thrust the cupcake under his nose, the tip of the flame narrowly missing singeing the little hairs on his upper lip. “I want you to be my maid of honour! Well, man of honour.” You corrected quickly.

“You want me to be your what?”

Quick to silence his objections, you added - “Finn’s going to be flower girl!”

“Flower boy.” He interjected, “Katie’s flower girl. I’m just doing you a favour.”

“Yeah. Right.”

You and Michael locked eyes for a moment, challenging the other with your gaze. After a tense minute of silence, he broke out in a smile, one of the classic, cheesy ones that you loved so much.

“Do I have to wear a dress?”

You grinned. “Only if you want to.”

He threw his arms in the air in mock defeat, and he seemed so much younger, reminding you of running barefoot with him through raspberry fields, and throwing pennies down a pretty little well.

“Alright. Okay. Yes! Bloody hell.”

You leapt into his arms and Finn whooped triumphantly, partly pleased for you but mostly happy that he wasn’t the only member of the family who had somehow been talked into something he was bound to be teased over.

You felt Michael press a kiss to the crown of your head, his words getting muffled by your loose hair. “God, does Tommy even know what he’s got himself in for with you?”

You smiled, as sweet as spun sugar.

“Nope.”

—————————————————————-

As much as you wanted to stay in the rose tinted bubble that wedding planning had created, more and more problems with the business started to arise, and everything had to be put on the back burner - but it never dampened your spirits.

The hot summer days bled into crisp autumn nights, and you were trading your short lavender dresses for fur lined coats and boots. You celebrated Christmas with everyone, and discovered that a day you never used to enjoy was now your favourite, all because of the man you would up beside.

New Years passed in a flurry of drunken kisses and gold dresses and dancing until the sun rose. You vaguely remember finding Arthur passed out in the bathtub, surrounded by ice and champagne, the gramophone shaking the paintings on the walls. Your main memory was Tommy pulling you down the hall with him, away from the rest of the family, kissing you right as the clock struck midnight with hands tangled in your hair and a smile on his lips.

He often left for weeks at a time, work taking him up and down the country, and that meant that every morning and night you spent together was treasured.

One particular spring morning, when the air was starting to warm up and the days getting a little longer, you were sprawled on Tommy’s lap in the garden, reading from your novel whilst he read the paper. The day was less than half way though and you had already spent the entire morning in bed, making up for all the time you had lost. Now you leafed through your book with strawberry stained fingers, the curl of cigarette smoke twisting around you both.

Tommy had made it certain that he was not to be bothered that day. It had been almost an entire month of nothing but speaking over the phone and stolen kisses before he had to up and leave again, and the only thing he goddamn wanted was to do absolutely nothing with you. He was exhausted, not that he would ever admit it, but because you knew him better than absolutely everyone, you forced him to take a break before the man you loved completely crumbled like a bourbon biscuit.

So when you knew that he was coming back, you gave Mary strict orders to ignore all phone calls or mail regarding the business until the weekend was over. She had happily obliged, so you and Tom were both confused when you saw her running through the grass in her wingtips, her hands still soapy and wet from doing the dishes.

“Oh Mr Shelby! And Mrs Shelby!” She called, her voice so shrill that a few birds even took flight. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Tommy sat up as best he could with you on his lap, his arms snaking around your waist to stop you from toppling over. You could feel the cigarette moving with his lips as he spoke, his accent deep and throaty in your ear.

“Mary? What is it?”

She didn’t reply, instead thrusting a sage green and gold piece of paper at you. You caught it before it fell to the floor, and let out a loud, genuine laugh when you read the script. You felt Tommy leaning over you shoulder, and felt the rumble of his body as he laughed with you.

“Well,” He said finally, pressing his lips to your neck. “Guess we know what we’re doing next month, Princess.”

On July 20th

Please join us for the union of Mr Thomas Shelby and (Y/N, Y/L/N).

The wedding of the century!

————————————————————————————

Polly had organised everything. Whilst you had been dealing with the accounting from the Garrison and Tommy had been building his business, Polly had managed to do her job, and single handily plan a wedding.

Everything was full steam ahead. The house was a flurry of florists and caterers, the grounds were picked and preened and polished by gardeners that had sailed over from Italy and the south of France. It was wonderful, if not a little overwhelming, but it was worth everything to see your future Aunt beaming as she supervised everything.

Tommy had pulled you aside a few times, determined to make sure that this was what you wanted, ready to pull the plug if he even caught a whiff that all of the glitz and glamour were out of your comfort zone. But Polly knew you well - not that you ever doubted her - and everything was beautiful and muted, classic and beguiling, just like something out of a fairytale.

You tried to be as involved as you could, picking out flowers for the bouquets, letting Esme try out a million different hairstyles on you as you sat barefoot and cross legged on the floor like a child, running around the kitchen with Katie, taste testing all of the frosting you could find. More than anything though, you were excited, elated for the day and it had nothing to do with all of the smoke and mirrors, instead it was the man you would meet at the end of the aisle.

You could tell that Tommy was getting antsy for the day as well. He was softer, calmer, his touch on your skin gentle but possessive, calling you “Mrs Shelby” as you came apart under him. He found himself falling asleep a little easier, his breath not getting caught in his lungs, his mind wandering and imagining his favourite girl in a pretty white dress, waiting for him under an arch of blush coloured tulips.

The real surprise though, came the morning before your wedding. You were curled up on the sofa drinking strong coffee and eating honey toast as Tommy finished some paperwork. He was trying to get everything done before the end of the day, wanting tomorrow and the weeks that came after to be nothing but the two of you.

You told him you never felt neglected. You had been by his side through it all, you knew just how demanding his job was, but that still didn’t ease the niggle of pressure at the back of his neck when he had his nose in his books for too long. He truly couldn’t wait until he could shove everything and everyone else aside. All he wanted was his girl in his arms with his ring on her finger, and a bottle of sweet gin.

Everything seemed so within reach, until the front door banged open like a whirlwind, and you heard the sounds of Polly’s stilettos against the hardwood floor.

“Alright you two, no time to lose!”

You and Tommy lifted your heads quickly, your eyes meeting across the room. “Polly?”

“- and Arthur!” An voice added, accompanied by the familiar face of the eldest Shelby.

You smiled, shutting the cover of your book. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Tommy shot you a sharp look that said, don’t encourage them, but you ignored him, getting to your feet to greet them both.

Polly kissed you quickly on both cheeks, leaving you covered in a light layer of sticky red lipstick as she surveyed you both.

The study was the only place the two of you could find solace amongst the craziness of the wedding planning, every other room in the house filled with servants and buckets of flowers, the floors freshly waxed and polished. You could practically feel Tommy rolling his eyes behind you as Mary pushed open the double doors, holding your pastel pink overnight bag.

“Mrs Grey, I’ve packed all of Mrs Shelby’s things like you asked.”

“You did what?” Tommy said, rising to his feet.

Polly brushed him aside, reaching for the bag in the maid’s hand.“Ah. Thank you Mary, but it’s not Mrs Shelby yet, not till tomorrow. Let her be Miss (Y/L/N) for one last night.”

“Polly?” You asked, “What are you up to?”

She winked at you, her eyes catlike and beautiful, filled with the mischief that always hung around her. “You’re coming with me, love.”

“And you Tom, are coming with me.” Arthur said, pointing a finger at his brother.

“No. Fuck off, both of you.”

Polly put her hands in the air, but you could tell she had been expecting his resistance. “No Thomas. She needs a night as a free woman! Lord knows after tomorrow you’ll be keeping her all to yourself.”

Tommy straightened his back and crossed his arms, never one to back down from a fight, especially with his Aunt. “She’s staying here.”

“It’s tradition!” Arthur interjected, his voice already slurred despite it not even being noon yet.

“Fuck tradition.”

You moved forward, blinking up at your future husband. You knew why he was being so stubborn, the day before your wedding would be the prime time for something to go wrong, or something to happen with you, and keeping you within reach was what he wanted. As much as you loved spending every second with him, you also loved his family, and knew that perhaps a night of drinking and laughing and exhaling, was what you both needed.

He looked at you, his eyes unmoving and stern. You didn’t falter though, mimicking his frown and knitting your eyebrows together, trying to knock down the walls he was so insistent on putting up.

“It might be nice, Tom.” You said. “You deserve to have some fun, and it’ll make seeing each other tomorrow all the more special.”

A moment passed and you felt him falter, the corner of his lips moving ever so slightly.

“Alright. Bloody hell, fine.”

“Good decision brother.” Arthur said,

“We’re not leaving town.” Tommy stated simply, laying down the law.

“We wouldn’t dream of it! Johnny brought his caravan down, all of you men are camping in the woods. Us girls are staying here.”

“Aberama Gold doesn’t happen to be one of these men does he?” You said playfully, nudging Polly with your arm. She rolled her eyes but pulled you closer, her fingers toying with the satin ribbons on your blouse.

“Cmon, love, lets go.”

“Wait.”

You felt Tommy approaching you both, his large hands cupping around your face. You melted into him, his touch so soft and so warm. His eyes were so very blue, cobalt and icy, but they made your stomach infinite. He pulled you into him, smashing his lips against yours, not caring who was watching as he dug his fingers into the roots of your hair, dragging you against his body. Breathless, he pulled away, smiling at the frown on your face from the lack of contact.

“Be safe. Alright? I love you.”

“I love you.”

“Alright you two.” Polly said exasperatedly, but you could hear the happiness in her tone. “Let’s go.”

You let her lead you away, smiling at Arthur as he bounded towards his brother, filling him in on the multitude of activities he had planned for the night.

Every single one of them involved drinking.

As you left, Tommy shot Polly a look, one that told her to keep you near and to keep you safe, and she nodded in response. As soon as you made it into the hall she laughed genuinely, squeezing your shoulder.

“You will definitely fit in with this family, (Y/N).”

“Hm?”

“Yes. You have the Shelby woman’s gift.” She leant down, her lips to your ear. “The power to control a strong man like a puppet.”

———————————————————————

So there you were. Wrapped up in satin and lace, a glass filled with blood red wine, your friends happy and tipsy, swapping stories under the moonlight.

Bea and Violet, two of your closest friends from back in the little village had arrived to be your bridesmaids, their eyes wide and glimmering when they had seen the life you now lived. You watched as they sat with Polly, telling her tales of when you and Michael had been young and stupid - not that much had changed.

Polly had invited all of the girls from work and your friends from in the city, and the laughter bounced off the walls and engulfed you. Ada was enchanting, completely beaming as she sat next to you, telling you every embarrassing thing about her brother she could remember as she downed shots of vodka and cinnamon whisky.

Michael was lounging on the floor with one of Polly’s fine fox scarves draped around his neck. Charlotte was curled up in his side with a cigarette, her hand intertwined with his as she watched him with dopey, loved up eyes. You caught his eye and smiled at him, and he winked in response, joining in with the girls’ as though he was one himself.

You had told him to enjoy the night with the boys, but he refused. You partly suspected that it had something to do with Tommy, and that your fiancé had wanted you to have more protection, but you also knew that Michael wanted to spend tonight with you. Things hadn’t changed per say, but there was no denying that the both of you were getting older, and soon you would be a member of his bloodline rather than just his best friend.

You still had all of your wonderful memories, like running through sunflower fields and swimming in the river until the sun set, but they seemed further away now, almost out of reach. Part of you still clung to the past, the innocence of your youth, all peach skies and daisy chains, but there was no denying that your vision was cloudy, blurry, only focused on the future, and the only man that you wanted to be in it.

Somebody flipped the record over. You listened to the thump and rhythm of the music, smiling at those you loved as they danced around you. You adored everyone in the room, even Lizzie who had arrived already drunk and had glared daggers at you every time you turned around. These were your new family, your new life, and whilst you were elated and excited for it all, you also really needed some fucking air.

Almost on cue, Violet toppled over a champagne flute as she kicked her legs like a cabaret dancer, and you sighed playfully as she covered her mouth with her hands like a small child, her eyes as wide as the moon.

“Oh! Oh! I’m so sorry!”

“Violet, it’s alright! I’ll go and get some cloth, you ladies stay here, try not to break anything else, eh?” You said rising to your feet and darting out of the door, the sound of laughter following you like twinkling diamonds. As soon as you could you ran down the stairs, your feet pattering against the carpet, sneaking out of the back door and into the jet black night.

————————————————————-

The moon was round and full, and you sat cross legged on the grass, your bare feet dipped into the lake that wrapped around the property. It was your favourite place to clear your head, under the weeping willow, listening to the sound of the animals around you, the night air brisk yet comfortable. It was hard to believe that in a few hours you would be married, bound to this brilliant man that had swept you up like a rough wave, capturing you completely.

“Not having second thoughts are we?”

You smiled in the dark. His voice cutting through the night like a knife through butter.

“Tommy.” You breathed, turning around and facing him, the spark of his cigarette as bright as the stars above you both. He grinned at the sight of you, his shirt unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves rolled up, looking like a vision under the moonlight. “What are you doing here?

“I should be asking you the same question.”

“I just needed some air.” You said, curling your toes and inhaling the cool air, you felt his eyes all over you, and you wanted to get as close to him as possible, replace his gaze with his fingertips. You were inches apart and yet you still missed him, and you knew that you would feel this way forever.

“Ah. I take it the ladies are just as boisterous as the men. I only managed to get away after Arthur fell into the bonfire.”

“Bloody hell! Is he alright?”

“Burnt moustache and bruised ego. Nothing he can’t handle.”

You were about to laugh but you stopped suddenly, remembering something important.

“Wait! It’s after midnight!”

“Are you about to turn into a pumpkin?” Tommy asked, amused by your change in tone.

“No! We’re getting married today! You can’t see me!”

“(Y/N).”

“Turn around!” You squealed, pushing him away from you and spinning on your heel.

You heard an exasperated laugh.

“I think we’ve had our fill of bad luck, little one. Turn around, I want to see your face.”

He took you in. No makeup and loose hair and still squeezing all of the air from his lungs.

“We don’t have to do it like this, you know.”

“If this isn’t what you want - all the fucking champagne and caviar. We could leave tonight, get married in a fucking courthouse - just us. Or we could do it in Johnny’s field, get him to marry us right next to his caravan. I don’t care where it is or what we do, I just want - I just need to be with you.”

His words made your gut twist, the sincerity in his voice meaning everything to you, knowing that he would move mountains if it would make you happy, and that you would do the same for him. “I think Polly would murder us.”

“She doesn’t scare me.”

“She should.”

“No. I want this. Yes it’s all a bit... much.” you struggled to find the right word, feeling overwhelmed but ultimately completely spoiled by all of the fuss. “But I think it will be lovely. Your family deserve this. You deserve this.”

Looking at you all sleepy eyed, dressed in silk and satin and lace, your necklace hanging in the sweet dip of your throat, the ring on your finger glinting under the summer twilight, he really wasn’t sure he did.

He pulled you into him, not wanting to be apart from you for any longer. You smelt of home, like violets and green apples and vanilla cupcakes, and he felt like heaven, with his strong body and warm hands and comforting arms. Safe in his presence, you mumbled the words that had been the reason for many of your sleepless nights.

“Do you think she’ll come?”

She being your mother. The woman who had nursed you and bathed you and kissed the scrapes and bruises on your knees when you were a child had all but refused to attend your wedding. You understood why. Your trip to visit Michael in Birmingham was only supposed to be a few days, a week at most, and here you were two years later engaged to a man on the other side of England. You had tried to come home a few times, but the visits were cold and severed, Michaels foster parents filling your mother with poison about the family you had entered.

The phone calls stopped. No more weekly letters from your mother or care packages wrapped in string. You still wrote, but you never got a reply, only a small impersonal card at Christmas and your birthday. Michael understood, and always knew how to comfort you. He had also left the only family he had known and entered the strange underground where you both now lived. He was a boy from the sleepy village who had grown into a man.

It was harder for you, being a woman meant that you were held with certain standards and expectations. But, luckily you had Polly and Ada who taught you that you could be more than just a housewife.

It affected Tommy the most though. If anything was bothering you he knew how to deal without immediately, crushing whatever had made you sad with the heel of his boot, using his power to make everything alright again. He couldn’t do anything about your mother though, couldn’t twist her view of him, not when it was so accurate.

He was bad for you and you were too good for him.

It hurt him though, when late at night you would get that sad, wistful look in your eyes. Or when you would wait for the postman every Monday, the disappointment bleeding from you every time nothing came. He wanted to fix everything, but he didn’t know how. He left the bulk of the comforting words to Ada and Michael, and did his best to show you how much he cared in his own way, with gentle touches and shared looks and those three words that always made him feel better.

Your wedding though, was a different matter. There was no way in hell that you would be anything less than happy if he had something to do with it. His heart broke a little the day that the RSVP came back in the post, a simple “unable to attend.” scrawled at the bottom, as though it was a routine doctors appointment and not her daughters wedding day. Tommy knee he had to fix it when he heard the muffled sound of sobs coming from your bathroom, his heart ripping in two just thinking about the tears staining your beautiful face.

He had a meeting in London but he pushed it back, determined to right the wrongs that lingered around you both. His black matte Bugatti looked incredibly out of place as it trailed down the quiet village lanes, the purr of the engine much louder than the bird songs and running water in the background. It wasn’t hard to picture you in the chocolate box cottage that he parked in front of, smiling ever so faintly at the thought of you running through the grass when you were a child, hanging up laundry in the summer, drinking hot chocolate in the winter.

She opened the door after the first knock, her eyes the size of dinner plates and her mouth agape. Usually, Tommy would be firm and curt and rude, demanding exactly what he wanted and when he expected it to be done, but he knew that he had to be somewhat kind to your mother, even if he currently resented her because of the state you were in.

“I won’t stay long, Mrs (Y/L/N.)” He said, not bothering to step over the threshold, knowing that she’d probably scream if he did. “You might not like it but I’m in love with your daughter. I intend to marry her, and as my wife, I want to make her happy.”

Your mother didn’t interject, merely nodded, and Tommy took that as a sign to continue.

“I know what you think of me and you’re not wrong, but don’t punish your daughter over it. (Y/N) is safe and she is happy, and as her mother that should make you pleased shouldn’t it? Not behaving like a child and treating as if she is a stranger. I want my wife to be happy, so put aside your fucking prejudices and buy a nice hat, alright? For her sake.”

The tension was thick and hot and practically dripping over them, but their eyes met briefly, and something flickered between them.

“I hope to see you at the wedding.” He bit, his tone as sharp as his canines, turning on his heel and heading for the car.

He hummed quietly, listening the sounds of the night. The flicker of the bonfire in the fields behind, the sound of drunken singing and chanting that was louder than a siren.

“I think she will.”

You thought about saying something but held it in, not wanting to ruin the tender moment of him holding you against his chest, the heat of summer nothing compared to the two of you.

He moved you slowly, placing his hands either side of your face, his eyes veiled and moonless.“Go and get some sleep.” He said. “Because you won’t be getting any tonight.”

His voice was low and wolffish, and you felt your entire body setting alight at his words and the darkness in his eyes. His hold on you was so tight it was almost painful, but there was nowhere else that you would rather be. You smiled prettily, already feeling the butterflies coiling in your stomach, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him, sweet as strawberry ice cream and fresh honey, the taste lingering on his tongue. You left silently, leaving him grinning dopily, drunk on you and the heat of the evening.

He watched you as you walked away. His eyes never leaving as you stalked back to the house, his gaze lingering long after your shadow grew small, and the front door opened and closed behind you.

————————————————————————

Polly let you sleep in until 8.

You had crashed out after seeing Tommy, Polly had scolded you for leaving and then insisted that you got some beauty sleep, and you practically collapsed into the powder pink pillows on the guest bed.Sleep had come easily, and you grumbled a little when your new in laws had barged in the next morning, pulling back the curtains and letting in the heavy sunlight.

You were ushered into the master bathroom. The claw foot tub had already filled to the brim, rose petals shimmering on the surface, epsom salts dissolving around you. It was warm and inviting, steam billowing around your face as you undressed, and a cup of cinnamon coffee waiting for you on the cabinet by the side, next to an almond croissant from your favourite bakery in London.

You were slightly confused as to how she acquired it, but you knew by now to never question Polly and her methods.

Mary came in not long after, the maid you now thought of as a close friend unable to keep the smile off her face as she helped wash your hair, dragging a soft toothed golden comb over your locks and massaging lavender oil into your scalp. You scrubbed your skin until it shone, washed your body and dragged a razor across any unwanted hair, soothing your skin with thick coconut cream and honey salve.

You could hear everyone on the floors below, the sound of clattering china and rivalling voices coming up through the floorboards. You thought it might make you nervous, but it didn’t, if anything it made you feel more certain. The butterflies in your stomach were a swarm now, and all you could think of was him.

The girls were spread out in the largest guest room. The big windows had been opened, the lace curtains billowing in the warm breeze, and you could see start of the canopy being set up along the great expansive garden, one of yours and Tommy’s favourite places.

Ada squealed when she saw you, even with just a towel around your body and hair, she showered you in compliments.

“You’re glowing!”

“That’s because I’ve scrubbed off ten layers of skin.” You teased, letting her hug you tightly.

The rest of the girls clambered towards you, cigarettes in their fingers and champagne on their tongues. They were a blur of sweet lilac and warm honeysuckle, the colours of their soft chiffon dresses sparkling under the low lights, and you could feel your heart burst at the sight.

“Oh, Pol.” You said quietly, “Everyone looks so beautiful.”

She came towards you, a vision in her golden draped dress. It was covered in glimmering beads and diamonds, and she looked like a starlet on the big screen. She took you in her arms and laughed, “All you need is Auntie Polly to wave her magic wand.” She shook you slightly, running her fingers along the damp skin of your arm. “Come on, you. I think there’s a very impatient man waiting for you.”

Your nails were filed and painted pink, your hair mused and styled by Mary, leaving it long and wavy down your back, the way that both you and Tommy liked it best. You laughed out loud when Bea and Violet showed you their wedding present, a beautiful swan white lingerie set from the dressmakers in the village, complete with high stockings and a frilly lace garter.

“Maybe keep a doctor nearby when he sees you in that tonight.” Bea giggled as you fingered the delicate stitching and fabric.

Not everything was perfect though. One of the caterers dropped a plate of crab cakes and goats cheese bruschetta onto the floor, and one of the mares that was going to lead the carriage to the church had bolted at the unfamiliar hands and raced around the paddock away from the grooms that tried to catch her. Polly had huffed loudly and left with the girls and promises that she would be back with someone’s head, you had nodded, oblivious to everyones anxiety, too dazed at the thought of the day ahead to worry about the little things.

So they left you alone in the big bedroom, staring at your reflection in the golden mirror. It had been a four woman job to get you into the dress. Ada holding you steady by the armpits as Mary and Polly and a unsuspecting servant from downstairs was roped into helping you slide under the fabric, the tulle and lace as heavy as an anvil on you all. Polly had the dress shipped over from Paris after months of searching for the perfect dress, finally ordering one completely hand made and one of a kind, just like you, she had said.

You had never seen Polly cry.

Once, almost, when she had too much brandy at Christmas and she spoke of how much she wished Anna could have been there, the lump in her throat unmistakable as she told you how much she missed her daughter. And now in her nephews bedroom, her smile so wide and her eyes glistening, as she took your face in her hands.

“Thank you for making my boys so happy.”

You could hear her downstairs. The click of her stilettos and the sound of her voice, and once again you were infinitely grateful for whatever cosmic force had brought this wild, brilliant and chaotic family into your life. You turned back to the mirror, running your fingers over the delicate beading on the corset of your dress.

It was without a doubt the most beautiful thing you had ever seen. It was the colour of a fresh blanket of snow, so angelic and pure. There were thin straps at the shoulders, decorated with tiny crystals and jewels. The bodice was cinched and slightly scooped at the neckline, the puckering of your scar showing just above the pristine chiffon.

It had never been something you wanted to hide. It showed that you were alive.

The skirt was wide and full. Layers of expertly fitted tulle and crinoline holding it together, gilding and cascading like a waterfall down your legs and to the floor. There were pearls and thread and diamonds in the shape of flowers stitched right into the fabric, glimmering and twinkling like the stars in the sky when you shifted in the light.

“I’ve left the car running.”

You turned at the noise, smiling when you spotted Michael in the doorway, looking like a million dollars in his rich navy suit and tie.

“Just in case.” He continued.

You rolled your eyes, laughing sarcastically. “Ha. Ha.”

He stepped further into the room, his eyes soft and kind and as wide as dinner plates. The emotion on his face making your heart constrict, his face suddenly so much younger. “Wow.” He breathed. “You look beautiful.”

You blushed, your eyes darting to the floor as he approached you.

“Really, (Y/N). You look... wow.”

“Thanks Mikey.” You said softly, the two of you comfortable in the silence. In that moment nothing else really mattered, you were two kids again, running through waist high grass, sledding down the hills in the winter, splashing each other in the river. So much had changed and yet it would always be the two of you.

He broke the silence first, not one to linger in the past for too long. “This is for you.”

“Oh. Michael. You shouldn’t have! You’ve already done so much.”

“I wanted to.”

He rummaged around in his pockets, finally pulling out a large scarlet velvet box, slowly lifting off the lid. Inside was an exquisite sparkling marquise diamond necklace, intertwined with yellow and rose gold, oval shaped crystals draping and falling from the band like raindrops. Beside it, were two matching earrings, brilliantly cut, so clear that you could see your reflection, the gems woven together like ivy on a cottage. So stunning that you started to tear up.

You gasped, unable to swallow your shock. “Michael! This must have cost a fortune.”

“Nah. I stole it.” He teased, his voice a little shy.

You pulled him in to your arms. He kissed your head, pulling you tightly against him.

“I love you.” He said, his words muffled by your hair. “You deserve this. God, you deserve the world. I am so happy for you.”

You smiled into the fabric of his suit, muffling an “I love you” into the stitched seams. He squeezed you playfully, making you squeal as he hoisted you into the air.

“Careful. If you smudge my makeup there’s a good chance that Polly will shoot you.” You giggled.

“I can handle her.”

“Can you?”

His gaze faltered and you laughed, hitting his shoulder. He spun you around, lifting the necklace from its box and settling it onto your throat, his skilled hands fastening the clasp. You gasped at your reflection, your eyes meeting his in the mirror.

“It looks perfect.”

“I love it Michael.”

He pressed a kiss to your crown, watching as you delicately picked up the earrings and put them on.

“And tell Tommy that if he ever hurts you that I’ll kill him.”

A moment of silence, and then:

“- you’re not going to really tell him that are you?”

You both laughed as he outstretched an arm, looking you up and down proudly, his eyes already a little glossy and big. You thought of how much younger he looked.

“Cmon.” He said, “ I think they’re waiting for you.”

———��————————————————

Thomas Shelby never felt apprehensive. He wasn’t familiar with the prickling anxiety that lingered at the bottom of his spine, or the dread that that had settled itself low in his gut, or the way that his palms were growing hotter by the second. He never got nervous. Until now.

Perhaps nervous wasn’t the right word. He had no doubt that you would be walking down the aisle in a few minutes, he knew that you would say “I do.” with as much certainty as him, and he knew that the golden band in Arthur’s jacket pocket would soon be on your finger. But still, the foreboding remained, hanging around his head like a dark cloud.

He didn’t deserve you. He knew that much for sure. He was the devil, his hands stained with blood, his lungs filled with ash, his insides dark and mean. You were an angel, soft and sweet and gentle and warm, the girl that could bring him to his knees.

The church abbey felt big, the summer sun filtering through the stained glass windows, the high ceilings making the room feel vast and empty, despite the crowded benches. He needed you to arrive, to settle the unease inside of him, to light up the room in the way that only you could, feeling every single empty space with your light.

He glanced around the room. Arthur was next to him, nursing a pretty tragic hangover and still a little ashy from his burn, but his smile was bright and he winked at his younger brother. There were plenty of blinders here, working rather than as guests, Tommy was insistent that he wanted as much protection over the day as possible, and even though it was your wedding day, he never would stop protecting you. He wouldn’t put it past his enemies to try something on what should be the happiest day of your lives.

He saw your friends from work. John and Esme and their litter of children. Lizzie and her new boyfriend, hanging off his arm and looking at Tommy with already drunk, hazy eyes. He even smiled as he saw Alfie perched in a middle row, his hat bigger than his head, his beard neatly combed and an array of golden rings on his fingers. Ollie was next to him, watching the room warily, always on guard.

Once Alfie had heard about the engagement he sent over fresh loaves and flowers and then invited himself to the wedding. But he needn’t have, as he had always been on the guest list.

Tommy’s eyes grazed over the person he had been looking for though. Your mother. Sitting in a pew near the front, draped in fine silk and a matching hat, looking entirely out of place but smiling tightly nonetheless. Their eyes met, a single flame of acknowledgement flickering between them. Unspoken but still lingering in the air, that they would both always put you first and that was all that mattered.

“You nervous, Tommy boy?” He heard Arthur say from behind him. He opened his mouth to answer but stopped as he heard noises from outside, the clunk of horse hooves and the rattle of the carriage. He felt his palms sweat and his heart race like he was back in battle, but this time the feeling was so sickly sweet and warm, he felt so fucking happy.

There was so much light when the doors opened. Polly was traditional, and even with all of the immorality in her life, she was adamant that you would both be married in a church. Neither of you protested, Tommy would have said “I do” in front of God himself if it meant you would be his wife. None of it mattered to him.

He remembered the day you came back from seeing the cathedral for the first time. How wide your smile was as you laid curled up in his chest, his lips leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck as you told him all about the ivy covered steeples and wildflowers and beautiful black jackdaws.

You were smitten, and so was he.

There wasn’t much they could do to decorate the church. Back at the house was where the main party was going to be held, but Polly was a genius, and every empty space was filled with tall flickering candles and bouquets of flowers. Everything felt clean and soft and pure, a mixture of old and rustic and fresh and new.

Light. So much light coming in from outside. The day already so sticky warm and wonderful, much like the summer the two of you met and fell in love. Katie came in first, giggling at the eruption of “aww’s” from the pews, everybody watching as she threw small white daisies and coral amber rose petals down the aisle.

Finn followed, looking like an adult in his suit and tie and freshly polished brogues. Then the bridesmaids, coy smiles on their faces, hair curled and polished and smiles that seemed to stretch all the way to the moon. Tommy could feel Arthur’s sly grin from behind him, and knew that he would have a job of distracting his older brother from the beautiful young ladies later on.

The fabric of their dresses swished and swayed under the light, the softness of the skirts and the sharp heel of their stilettos such a wonderful contrast. The ladies whose faces he vaguely recognised moved to your side of the alter, young and impressionable eyes looking around the grand room, obviously astonished and surprised that one of their own was going to be married in such a remarkable chapel.

Ada was next. Polly at her side. His sister and his Aunt commanding the entire room with just the sound of their shoes and the sway of their hips. They looked incredible, such a mixture of power and beauty. Polly’s smile was smug and self assured, but also filled with a certain kindness that was meant just for Tommy. Ada’s eyes were glistening, looking at her brother with adoration and pride, and that playful tease that he knew and loved.

The room was quiet for a moment. The anticipation roaring around like a wasp trapped under a glass, and Tommy could see Curly smiling happily, peering down the aisle as they waited for you to arrive.

For Tommy, his whole life had once been so loud, and then, as if by magic, everything stopped. All of the noise, the blur, the people. They all faded and disappeared. It was like having his head held underwater, the rush of the ocean and the pounding of his blood in his ears deafening him. He felt movement around him, everybody in the pews rising to their feet, the orchestra starting the bridal chorus. His friends and family were smiling so widely, enjoying the ambience and the atmosphere, holding their hands to their chest and wiping their eyes and muttering how beautiful everything was.

He didn’t see any of it. He only saw you.

You had always been the most beautiful woman to him, the kind of woman that made the air leave his lungs and his heart beat a little faster, but oh god, did you look magnificent. In your dress that wrapped and dipped and swayed around your legs like running water, the bodice that cinched you in tightly, exposing the dip of your throat and the curve of your collarbone, just begging him to leave a necklace of bruises next to the diamonds. Your eyes were wide, lined with kohl and blush on your cheeks that reminded him of sun soaked days and strawberry jam and wax stamped envelopes. The curve of your lips, raspberry red gloss that made him think of kissing you until neither of you knew where one of you began and the other ended, his hands in your hair, your legs around his waist.

He felt tears prick behind his eyes. Such a foreign feeling that he almost recoiled. He was so used to being strong and in charge, never letting his emotions bubble up on the surface where somebody might see. But seeing you walk down the aisle, filling the room with love and youth and kindness - knowing that you were going to be his wife, that your days would begin and end with each other, that you would fight and fuck and laugh and cry, tell each other everything, hold him when the shovels got too loud, clean him when he was dripping with another mans blood, be the one you called because no one else would ever compare.

He let his eyes grow glossy as you stepped forward, taking his hand in yours. You were so smooth and soft and small and he was so large and rough and hard, but you fit together like you had been moulded that way, as though there was no where else you two could ever be. So in a room filled with people who respected him and trusted him as a cruel, calculated leader, he let himself be washed away with you,

Because he was in love. And nothing else fucking mattered.

———————————————————————-

Champagne and crystal chandeliers. Cotton candy coloured roses across all of the banister, wide full petals looking like silk under the lights. Pearl necklaces snapped in half and black satin gloves ripped up the seams, pretty fine china filled with bourbon, and laughter that never seemed to cease.

Tommy had tried to keep the party civilised for as long as he could, but the Shelby clan were persistent, and with the amount of booze in the house, they saw it as a challenge to drink it all.

The wedding dinner had gone well. Only the nearest and dearest invited to a seat at the grand table, you and Tommy at the head, his hand possessively on your thigh, your shoulder pressed against his chest. There were more courses than you could count, great big plates and bowls of honey roast ham and glazed partridges and peach trifle and jam soufflé. Your glasses were never empty and yet everyone was well mannered and kind, their voices a little softer than usual, their jokes a little bit cleaner.

You suspected it had something to do with the woman sat next to you, safely nestled in between yourself and Michael, the two people she knew. Your mother had been quiet but mellow at the ceremony, even going as far as hugging you with tears in her eyes as you gathered outside for the photos. There had been tension of course, but it meant the world to you that she was willing to put on a smile for the day.

You had no doubt that Tommy had ordered everyone to be on their best behaviour around her and you could feel yourself chuckle lightly as Arthur gave a very uncharacteristically charming toast to the two of you. The rest of the dinner passed pleasantly, and you could even see your mother start to loosen up as Ada spoke to her about her favourite novels and the current political climate.

After the plates had been cleared away and the guests started arriving for the party, your mother pulled you aside before you got to the living room.

“This might not have been what I wanted for you, (Y/N). You’re my daughter. I only want the best for you.” She murmured, wringing her hands as though she was willing herself to continue. “And it pains me to say it but... Thomas clearly loves you, and I truly feel safe leaving you in his hands. He might not be a good man, but he is good for you.”

Those words were more precious than all of the diamonds and jewels you had stuffed in your dresser upstairs, that your mother accepted the man you loved.

“Oh, Mum.” You sighed, pulling her into you. She was so familiar and warm and you could feel tears prickling behind your eyes. She held onto you tightly, kissing the top of your head and wrapping her arms around you as though you were a baby again.

“I must go and catch my train. But - I’ll call you (Y/N).” She said, and you nodded wildly, your smile so big you thought your cheeks might split.

You walked her to one of the cars, instructing the driver to take her to the station, waving at her as the car got smaller and smaller in your eyes. You felt Tommy approach you, his hand snaking across your waist, and you let him pull you close. He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off, kissing him ferociously, letting your gratitude show in your touch. He accepted greedily, devouring you on the front steps of your home, his hands in your hair and your lips between his teeth, the sound of the party and music suddenly sounding so far away.

——————————————————-

With your mother gone, the party was in full swing. People were dancing barefoot because their shoes were stained with blood, sharing wide smiles between friends, the rooms smelling of skin and sweat and expensive perfume. You saw pupils blown up to the size of the moon, horse racing and gambling in the paddocks at the back, whoops and laughter vibrating around the house and shaking the paintings.

Tommy had kept you close, not that you ever wanted to stray. It was obvious that despite the genuine fun and admiration for him and all he had accomplished from those walking through his house with slack jaws, he only really wanted to be with you. It worked for the majority of the time, the two of you nestled on one of the ruby velvet chairs in the lounge, letting the crowds of people come and find you and offer their sincere congratulations.

But as always, being Thomas Shelby came with a price, and he often had to leave begrudgingly, with a tense jaw and closed fist, every time someone (Arthur) tore a painting or someone else, (Finn) crashed a car into the allotment and ripped up all of the courgettes.

He always left with a grumble and obvious annoyance swimming in his ocean eyes, planting a firm kiss to your lips and a promise to be back soon every time somebody called for him. He was never one for public displays of affection, he liked to make everyone know you were his but he preferred to keep his tenderness private. Maybe it was how drop dead gorgeous you looked in your gown, a looser, more intricate number you had donned for the evening party. Or maybe it was the rings you shared, the two solid gold circles looking like a sky full of stars under the lights, or maybe it was a mixture of the champagne soaked kisses and pure, uninhibited bliss he felt when he touched you - but whatever it was, you loved it, relishing the attention wholeheartedly.

You weren’t sure where he had got too this time, and somehow you had been wrangled into a conversation with a very tipsy Lord and Lady something or other, both of them fawning over you, their voices high like children. Your saving grace came in the form of a very tall, very stocky baker, his rings cool and comforting on your shoulder as he pulled you away.

“Yes. Yes. That’s very nice right, I’m just going to take (Y/N) away now, yes. Yes. Finish your drinks.” He waved them off as you laughed, “God, these rich fucks can talk for England. Fucking Liberty. Plus, I’ve seen them finish off all of the crab cakes. It’s not on.”

“No. Alfie, it’s not.” You said with a smile, letting him lead you into the parlour, the room almost empty and the faces that you recognised were pleasantly familiar. You grinned as you thought of how well Alfie knew the inside of the manor, something that you were sure to use as ammunition against Tommy any time he tried to tell you that “they weren’t friends.”

That was how he found you almost an hour later. Somehow the rest of the family had migrated into the room, bar Arthur who said he wasn’t drunk enough yet to be in the same room as Alfie. Tommy had been pulled and tugged in every direction, speaking to people he really didn’t give a shit about just to keep the party running smoothly, for your sake. He was on high alert, Johnny had said his boys had seen a figure running through the back paddocks, and just that alone was enough to send him spiralling. It was probably just a stray, strung out guest trying to get home, but it made his blood feel like it was electric.

He made all his men stay on guard, shut down the gambling and horse racing in the garden and made every single person who worked for him stay on red alert. Perhaps he was over reacting but he would never admit that, better to be overly cautious than have something happen to you. After doing laps of the house, checking on the cooks and gritting his teeth through drunken chats with whoever managed to grab him, he finally made his way back to you.

There you were. Face lit up under the candlelight, eyes tired but still sparkling, obviously exhausted but still enjoying the conversation, wanting to keep everyone happy. You looked ethereal. And for a moment he just watched you from the doorway, captivated by the movement of your hands, the bow of your lips, the way that you formed your words, so careful and light.

Alfie noticed him straight away, smiling cheekily as he pulled you into him. “Mrs Shelby.” He said, putting emphasis on both of the words and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. It was crazy how he could rile Tommy up more than anyone without being tipsy or high, somehow knowing how to push all of his buttons. “If you’re ever in London right, come to the bakery. I’ll show you a good time.”

You rolled your eyes at him, instantly knowing his game. You followed his gaze and saw the man you loved, your husband, watching you from the doorway.

“Tommy.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” He said firmly, brushing Alfie’s hand off you a little harder than he needed to. “I need to borrow my wife.”

God. Were you ever going to get used to him calling you that?

His hand slipped into yours and you melted, his lips grazing your ear lobe, deep accent rumbling like waves. “Cmon, lets go outside.”

You would have followed him anywhere, to the edge of the world if he had looked at you the way he was now, with those goddamn sky blue eyes and that smug, boyish grin.

Instead he led you through the party, playfully tugging on your hand as you both ran, desperate for nobody to see either of you and try to trap you in another mind numbing discussion. He took you through the servants entrance in the kitchen and into the courtyard, one of your favourite areas of the gardens. It was beautiful sculpted, with its high, emerald green bushes and intricately crafted pots and flower beds. You moved towards the fountain in the middle, surrounded by the rows of lilac and salmon tulips that swayed like ballet dancers in the wind.

He cleared his throat as you watched the water drip and fall and ripple down the stem of the fountain, the night sky reflected across it like a painting. It wasn’t chilly out but still he wrapped his blazer across your shoulders, filling your senses with cinnamon and nicotine and whisky sours.

“I want to read you my vows.” He said.

You turned to face him, confused.

“I know we both said we weren’t writing them, and I haven’t, not really, but there are some things I need to say to you.”

You opened your mouth to speak but closed it, watching him under the moonlight, how beautiful and how strong and how vulnerable he seemed all at once. You could feel your heart beating rapidly, your belly coiling and twisting, somehow he always managed to knock you off balance. He came towards you, close enough you could see the faint scars on his face from fights he had both won and lost, see the brilliance in his eyes and the sadness that always seemed to linger deep down in them, the curve of his lips and the sharpness of his teeth, the way that they had clenched around your heart and never let go.

“I deserve a lot of bad things. I do bad things, and I always thought that everything good would be taken away from me. I wasn’t born into a life like this, I’ve worked hard and given my blood sweat and tears to live like this, to get the things I have now. I’ve spent a lot of nights alone. Fuck, I’ve... felt alone since the moment I got on that train to France, and ever since I’ve been trying to find... something.”

“I thought it was all of this, but maybe it isn’t. I was always searching for the next big thing, the next move on the chessboard, the next city to take over. I didn’t realise how none of it made me happy until I walked into the Garrison the day you came here.”

A pause. A beat of silence.

“Look, I’m not the most articulate man, but God, I’m in love with you. I’ve loved you since the very first moment that I saw you. And - and - ” His voice crackles, fizzles out like a firework. “That day that I almost lost you, that nearly fucking killed me. That was when I realised that you were the thing I was searching for. You’re it for me.”

His hands on yours, pulling you in.

“For the first time in my life I don’t have to pretend to be happy. Whenever I see you, I just am. I can’t promise that I’m not going to fuck it up, but I’m trying, you make me want to try. You want to make me be better. You make me better.”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

He said, pressing his palm to your jawline, looking in your eyes with such sincerity and love that you felt as though you were floating.

“Oh, Tommy.” You breathed into the night, swept up and drowning in him, lost in lust and love and devotion, pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”