#this is the first thing I saw after I woke up

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

hii i was wondering if you could do logan with reader that owns a cat and the cat acts JUST LIKE HIM and he cant stand it until reader points it out. thank you!!!!

I loved this request! I have my own little cat, so I wanted this to be as well written as possible. I'm sorry it took so long to be posted. I hope you like it! If you do, please like, comment, and reblog! It really helps me with motivation to keep posting on here <3

This is my kitten rocket 🤭

Logan was never afraid to meet anyone in your life. He had met your friends and family; he met your colleagues and even your old roommate, but for some reason, everyone is telling him he should be afraid to meet your cat.

Logan can remember every warning he got from the people in your life when they found out he hadn't met your cat yet. "Oh, that's her baby" "Oh he has brought a lot of joy into her life since she found him, he really is her number one" "That cat hates anyone that comes over-I swear it's crazy" "Her cat is just very territorial, very protective" "Make sure you wear shoes, he goes for the toes."

He scoffed at these warnings, it's still just a cat. He wanted your cat to like him, of course he did but he also wasn't afraid to meet the damn thing. He knew you loved you cat, that was your baby, and you took care of him more than you took care of yourself something Logan hated, but he didn't think it mattered what a cat thought of him.

You usually would stay at his place after a night out, but for the past few dates, you two went back to your place instead. It wasn't a big deal, but you were worried for how your cat would react to a strange man coming into his territory. "He just doesn't like people Lo', I don't want him to lash out at you." He could hear in your voice how worried you truly were, and he tried his best to reassure you that the cat and him would get along just fine.

He lied to you. Logan can't stand that fucking cat and that cat has it out for him too. The first night the cat didn't even come out of hiding, it completely broke your heart and Logan ended up leaving a bit earlier than planned because you were worried for your cat's wellbeing, as he was leaving he heard you cooing at the cat calling him your baby and your handsome man and though he'd never admit it aloud a twinge of jealous did echo through Logan's chest. The next night the cat did come out of hiding, just so he could attack Logan's legs. When Logan didn't kick him across the room like he wanted to you came and put the cat in your bedroom. "I am so sorry!! Are you okay??" You exclaimed while you closed the door to your room before trying to check on his scratches even though they healed before you could. He grumbled... sort of whined a bit too, and honestly, he was enjoying the attention, so maybe he milked the injury? Sue him.

What really pushed him over the edge was your cat literally pushing him over the edge. It was around 1 in the morning, and you had just fallen asleep. Logan was holding you in his arms and trying his best to fall asleep himself when the door to your bedroom creaked open. Logan, now fully awake, sits up, trying not to disturb you and is greeted with a sharp meow and sharp little claws to the stomach. "Mother fucker" Logan mumbled under his breath as he pushed the cat off of him, "why are you even in here?" he asked quietly so he wouldn't wake you but sharply enough to try and scare the cat away. The cat meowed louder than before as if he was arguing back and went to lay on your chest, purring as he curled himself into a ball. Logan was pissed but he tried to stay cool and just ignore the cat, then around 4 in the morning, Logan was awoken to his body meeting your bedroom floor. When he stood up, he looked at the bed and saw your fucking cat in his spot. "That's it." Logan had enough and grabbed a blanket before going to the couch.

You woke him up hours later, very confused as to why he was on the couch and was replaced by a cat in the middle of the night. "Baby?" You asked softly, handing him his cup of coffee, "don't. Just don't." He grumbles and sips his coffee, sending your cat a glare as he walks around smugged.

Logan refuses to lose against a damn cat!

It's just a stupid cat, not even 4 months old yet. So why was he letting its behavior get to him so much? Because it was your cat, and even if Logan wasn't ready to admit it yet he really did love you and for some reason you loved that asshole cat more than the world so for fuck sake that cat will like him even if it is the last thing he does in his very long life.

Honestly, it was truly ironic if Logan took the time to think about it. Your cat was a grump. He didn't want people around unless he allowed them to be around, and even then, he wanted his distance. But not when it came to you. When you were around, that cat was glued to you and had the loudest purr Logan had ever heard, and your cat really did get protective of you. It was something Logan had never seen before. Usually, cats don't care, but if you came home upset, the cat wouldn't settle down until you did, too. If he took the time to really think about it, maybe he could see the resemblance the cat shared with another grump you have allowed into your life that you loved more than the world.

Tagging:

@userchai

@mahi-tamashi

@100percentlazybonez

@lanassmarty

@western-pyro

@misscrissfemmefatale

@marit332

@navs-bhat

@fluffy-b33z

[fools-ramblings-and-whatnot]

Drabble: The Prefect's routine

I wonder if Yuu's friends ever realize how awful their circumstances is, how innately lonely and scary it is to be far away from home, with a slim chance of returning?

Yuu has put effort Ramshackle dorm to make it livable. They expended time, effort, and their meager allowance to make a home out of it. It distracts them from thinking too much of their home.

Yuu can still remember the coldness of the night they first arrive. The aching of their body as they battled ghosts and the taste of dust in their tongue when they woke up. The wind blew open the window shutters, the hinges of the doors were groaning. There was no peace or comfort except from the warmth of Grim's body.

They found no rest the following days as they had to deal with the first overblot.

Then they had to deal with renovations. They had to fix the broken faucets, replace the waterpipes and throw away rusted metal or rotten wood. They had to clean every corner that they could. The cobwebs on the walls, in the corners and under the tables. One time they fell to the basement due to a rotten floorboard.

In the weekdays they had to study those they were unfamiliar with, alchemy, magic,flying, and history. They felt like a kindergartener as they knew nothing . At night instead of immediately resting they had to do their homework, which they do not understand . Then it was back to trying to fix the faucet to get some water. If the boiler wasn't working, they had to boil hot water in a kettle to take a soothing bath.

Grim and the Ghosts atleast offered them companionship. They had no phone so they take any interaction they get.

The only clothing they ever had with them were the clothes behind their back, which they used as pajamas. Crowley gave them 3 sets of wrinkly old school uniforms,one for class, one for Pe and one for ceremonies, they were ill fitting but atleast they could change . Alas, they had to sew it up together as the seams fell apart after one washing. It still smelled like dust and old mold.

They had nothing else to wear during the weekends, so they settled in sewing up old curtains into shirts. Ace and Deuce were kind enough to donate to them a pair of shorts each, taking pity when they saw Yuu struggling to fix an ancient sewing machine so they could sew more clothing.

Yuu has gotten pretty good at mending old clothes and making new shirts. They even patched up the couch and the curtains.

Then there was the roof. Oh the damn roof keeps leaking and the damn window shutters keeps banging! It drove them insane that they went and tried to fix it themselves, reading up on an old book to learn how to fix it.

That was the first time they fell off the roof.

Luckily they landed on a particularly strong branch. Their stomach was bruised the whole month, which they hid from their friends.They were resilient and stuborn to a fault.

Then theres the laundry that needs to be done. They do it all one friday night, so that if it ever rains by Sunday they'd have fresh clothes to go. The harder part was washing the beddings and the couach, the curtains and the carpets.

The worst was when the electricity turned off or the light bulb bursts. The nights were very cold and they had to huddle closer to Grim while they wait for the next day.

And let's not forget the garden, the trees needd trimming. The fence needed repainting. The gate needed replacing. The lawn needed mowing.

It was like that, day by day. Study, clean up ramshackle, find another broken thing in the dorm, fix it, do homework, do Crowley's errands, hang out with their friends.

Repeat.Repeat. Repeat.

If there was a moment of peace and quite, it never lasted long.

It surprises the others when Yuu doesn't keep a grudge against those who overblotted. The guys who were the reason Yuu had more on their plate. The persons who were the reason Crowley made Yuu write an entire report on the happenings.Alas, they still did it with no complaints.

Yuu makes sure that they do not have the time to be idle. If they hands are, their mind shouldn't .

Never ever EVER be alone with their own thoughts.

They cannot allow themselves to wallow in self pity. They had a dorm to maintain, a cat to take care of, friends to entertain and school work to be done.

Their hands have never felt rougher.Their shoulder never felt so stiffer.

But that's just the way things go.

[damiansgoodgirll]

this is an odd request so i understand if you don’t want to write it 🩷 but i was thinking what about reader having a night out or movie night with rhea damian and jey and rhea and jey going to sleep together (iykyk) and damian and reader realised that they were doing the deeds as they were sat in the living room and like make their reaction as funny and disgusted as they were 😂 reader being young and platonic would be even funnier as damian acting like a desperate father trying to distract reader from the noise upstairs 😂😂😂

terror twins x reader (platonic) / jey uso x reader (platonic) / rhea x jey

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

‼️mention of sex, mention of smut, angry damian, general fluff

untraditional movie night

what started as a simple movie night at rhea ended up being the most awkward night of your life. things between rhea and jey were going good, you knew it, you saw it. from the way jey tagged along with you and the terror twins, from the way rhea asked you if she could bring jey everytime you had a dinner night at your house. you honestly didn’t mind, she was happy and after what happened between her and dominik, she deserved to be happy.

so, now, you and damian were laying together on one of rhea’s big comfy couches as she and jey were laying on the other one.

you were falling asleep as horror movies always tired you out. you weren’t a fan and rhea knew it but it was her house, her rules so movie night turned out to be horror night for that week.

next week they would be at your place and you knew you were going to get revenge on her, knowing that she hated musicals, you already knew three or four movies that you were going to show them.

as your eyes closed, damian saw that you were falling asleep so he gently laid your head on his shoulder so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

he covered you a little with the blanket and continued to watch the movie.

about twenty minutes later, rhea yawned, catching damian’s attention.

“you tired mama?” jey asked to the dark haired woman next to him. she simply nodded “do you wanna go to bed?”

“please…” she yawned again.

“let’s go…” jey helped a tired rhea standing up. damian smiled seeing the way rhea was being taken care of. with such tenderness and grace, love and respect, that he was glad it was over between rhea and dom “damian, you can stay here if you want and finish the movie” jey spoke to damian.

“yeah absolutely. you know where the guest room is if you’re too tired…mi casa es tu casa” rhea tiredly said to damian.

he chuckled “thank you…i’ll finish the movie and then i’ll take princess y/n to bed” he joked seeing how fast it took you to fall asleep “goodnight guys” he smiled, waving at the couple.

they waved goodnight back and moved their way upstairs, where the master bedroom was.

40 minutes later and damian finished the movie but he wasn’t tired. he wasn’t even in the mood to start a new movie but he definitely wasn’t tired. so he started looking for something fun and entertaining to watch and he landed over the big bang theory. he probably saw it fifty times as it was one of your favourite tv shows but he didn’t mind. as soon as you heard the title rolling, you woke up. lifting your head from damian shoulder, you wiped your eyes and took a minute to reconnect with the ambiance you were in.

damian chuckled “do you have a radar or something?” he said referring to the moment you woke up when you heard the big bang theory song playing on tv.

“maybe…” you were still tired but definitely interested in whatever episode damian was watching.

as you two watched episode after episode, a strange noise came from outside - or so you thought.

at first you thought that it was someone of rhea’s neighbours, or some animals outside but the noise progressed, as if something was hitting the wall.

“what the…what is this noise?” you looked up at the window trying to see if there was something going on outside but everything was calm and quiet.

“i have no idea” damian looked at the window too. but then you both heard it, moans, coming from upstairs and not outside.

there was a moment of silence between the two of you. your face was in-between being shocked and disgusted, damian was just disgusted.

“tell me it’s not what i think…” you joked making damian close his eyes and take a deep breath.

“those fucking animals…” he growled. you couldn’t contain your laugh anymore and you bursted out laughing “it’s not funny y/n…they have guests here…don’t you have a little dignity?” he screamed, thinking they could hear him but he was so wrong. in the meantime you couldn’t stop laughing.

“this is hilarious” you laughed.

“no it’s not…what are they? fucking horny teenagers?” damian was mad.

you thought they would be finished soon. but they kept going, almost forty minutes later the noises stopped “finally…” you breathed.

you and damian shared a look. when the noise stopped you both relaxed against the couch, watching the episodes playing on the tv as the rain started falling down. everything seemed back to normality. damian moved the blanket so he could cover the both of you and when you tried to relax against his shoulder, you heard it again.

noises, moans coming from jey this time.

“no fucking way” damian murmured. you hid your head between his shoulders and the pillows behind you. your laughters could be heard through the walls of the house “don’t laugh y/n…you shouldn’t be hearing this things” you knew damian was very protective of you but you weren’t a kid anymore and it wasn’t like you’ve never had sex.

“let them have fun…” you tried to calm him down but he was pissed.

“two adults. two freaking grown adults, not teenagers. couldn’t they keep it in their pants for one more night? wasn’t rhea tired?” damian was like a desperate father with fifteen kids, always trying to keep the group together and grounding you in case you all needed it.

you laughed, smiling at damian’s reaction “damian calm down…please”

“stop laughing” his deep voice only made you laugh harder “kid…” he sounded annoyed but deep down you knew he could never be annoyed at you.

“is he calling her mami?” you tried to focus on what jey was saying to rhea but his moans were low so you couldn’t really understand.

“i don’t know. i don’t care. i don’t want to know…” he said grabbing the remote and putting the volume higher.

“she definitely called him papi earlier…”

“y/n please! go back to sleep…” he sounded desperate and you loved teasing him like that.

“oh i’m definitely gonna tease the both of them tomorrow…” you already knew that both rhea and jey would be so embarrassed by the idea of you hearing them but you couldn’t care less.

“how long is this gonna take…” damian raised his look up to the white ceiling and pretended to look everywhere to distract himself.

“he gotta be pretty good if they keep going…” you whispered but damian heard you and he was clearly disappointed by what you just said.

“really?”

“i’m guys saying…”

“no y/n, please don’t say anything” he growled. you tried to keep your mouth shut but you couldn’t stop laughing, not when rhea kept calling jey ‘papi’. you tried to focus on the show playing on tv but the whole rhea and jey routine was hilarious to you and annoying for damian.

it took four full episodes of the big bang theory for them to bed done, without counting the hour prior. when you found peace you fell asleep back on damian shoulder, letting the rain be your lullaby. damian spent the night watching tv, not getting much sleep as he was still shocked at the events of the night.

around seven in the morning he woke up and made some coffee - he much needed it. almost twenty minutes later the delicious aroma of coffee mixed with pancakes and bacon woke you up. you felt your stomach growling and you followed the perfume to the kitchen where you were met with a grumpy damian.

“not a word…” he whispered when he saw your little smirk.

you nodded, not hiding your smile and you poured yourself a cup of coffee.

rhea and jey met you in the kitchen about thirty minutes later and they both had the biggest smiles on their faces.

“good morning” jey smiled at the both of you. you returned his smile while damian ate more pancakes to avoid any weird conversation.

“did you sleep good?” rhea asked waiting for you to answer.

“uhm…yeah, you?” you were so in for teasing her.

“we did thank you…” she smiled as she sat next to damian.

“i can imagine that…” damian mumbled making rhea and jey look at each others.

“oh jey, right there…” you teased her, trying to replicate her voice. laughs filled the kitchen when you saw rhea’s cheeks getting redder and redder.

“you guys didn’t hear us, right?” rhea asked a little embarrassed.

“we heard everything, mami…” you teased her once more before damian shot you with a death stare, just like an angry father.

“oh god…” jey was embarrassed but not as much as rhea was.

“i guess you had fun…” you winked at her.

they were both speechless, trying to find words but couldn’t find none.

you were sure it was going to be an interesting morning with an angry damian and an embarrassed couple.

[darnell-la]

𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥

pairing: the wolverine x assassin!reader

warning: Wolverine struggling to regenerate, stabbing, brutal killing, manhandling, pinning, trapped, cutting clothes off, breaking skin, rough sex, begged, hard orgasm, etc.

request: After Logan gets taken back to Japan for his old friend buddy's last goodbye, idk if you've seen that movie but you know how their interaction goes, and then the old friend dies. Basically, people start going after his granddaughter uh sorry anyway after the old friend's funeral Logan gets away with the granddaughter and heads to the safe house. Once there Logan gets to relax for a few days till more bad guys show up and try taking the granddaughter. It makes Logan angry and as he ends up fighting one of the bad guys he discovers it's a female and that's when female y/n comes in place. Maybe Logan is just too tired and overall angry he takes it out on y/n in a very aggressive nsfw fashion of course

note: this story is a bit all over the place because of how angry the Wolverine is in here. He isn’t as nice as usual. He takes what he wants, and of course, y/n’s going to take it all.

Please comment, like, reblog, request, and follow us!

———

How do you guys feel about a x men story with reader? Logan being rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again, because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

“Mariko?” Logan growled as he woke up on the couch he chose to take so the princess could take the bed. “Hey — Mariko!” Logan groans, sleeping from the well-needed nap after all he’s been through for the past few days.

“Hey?” Logan heard Mariko speak as she opened the front door. Logan quickly leaned up from the couch, remembering that there were people after her.

“Shit,” the man groaned under his breath as he got up, falling at first, but got back up and ran to the front door. She was speaking to someone who he couldn’t see.

“Alright, talk time over,” Logan said as he pulled Mariko from the door. He went to shut it until he saw who stood in front of him. A woman.

“Hi, I was just wondering if you were interested in some fruits?” The woman asked, making him look down at the covered basket she had in hand.

“Come on, Logan — We haven’t eaten a good meal in a while,” the princess spoke behind Logan. He had jumped at her voice, almost forgetting she was there. He was too focused on the woman standing before him in a white wavey dress.

“Uh- Sure, sure — Two for the lady and one for me,” Logan said as he dug into his pockets, looking down to see if he had changed on him.

As Logan locked for chained, he saw the woman open the basket. He saw the fruit, but under the few was a knife. A sharp snide that looked like it was made out of carbonadium. Something that can kill him.

“Shit- Princess, safe room-“ before he could finish as he turned around, the woman kicked open the door, making the man fall to the ground.

Mariko screamed as y/n ripped her dress off, showing her in a suit. The wavey skirt and the tight shirt that was swordproof, made Mariko’s heart pound. She knew this was the doing of her father.

Y/n jumped onto the man’s back as several other men came into the house from different angles.

Y/n quickly stuck the man in his upper shoulder, causing him to yell out in pain. She twisted in carbonadium knife, smirking at the pain he finally could feel. “You won’t be healing soon,” she said before getting off of the man to go after Mariko.

“No, no!” The man tried grabbing after the woman, but he couldn’t. The pain that went through his shoulder only angered him. This whole fucking situation angered him.

Logan growled as he struggled to get up onto his knees. It took him a while, but he finally got to his feet, almost tipping over, but he held himself together.

The man reached behind his back, struggling to find the knife until he did. The man gripped it hard before pulling it out with an animalistic yell.

“Hurry! He’s coming back!” Y/n, the woman yelled at her men as they tried breaking done the steal door Mariko was hiding behind. She was quick to run, giving Logan time to get up and active.

“Who sent you?” Logan asked, slightly knowing who it could be, but he needed to know for sure. “He’s back! Fight!” Y/n yelled, making her men turn around and attack Logan.

Y/n stayed behind, trying to cut the wires to the key, but it would take a while. She needed to cut the right ones.

The noises Logan made as he fought the men with carbonadium swords, slightly scared y/n. She told Mariko’s grandfather that she was ready, but she knew nothing about Logan.

He was an animal. An animal that has been holding anger for years, and these past few days have been bottling up inside of him.

The carbonadium wasn’t working on the man. Yes, it cut through his skin, making it sting worse than usual, but he still slightly healed. The adrenaline in his body was the danger.

“Retreat! Retreat!” One of her men said, making her turn around to see Logan rip apart the last few remaining. She jumped at the way his claws sliced one’s neck.

Logan was on one knee, in a superhero landing position as he breathed heavily, claws out and to the side as he tightened his fists.

“Shit,” y/n took off and ran towards the back door that was open after Logan looked up at her. His eyes were dark, his fangs showed, his mouth quivered and his growls were deep. She was the last one left. She needed to get out.

Y/n almost made it to the front door, hoping she could make it to the van they all came in, but she was caught and thrown back in the house.

Y/n whined as she grabbed her side, feeling pain in an instant. She was no mutant. She was a human. She’s trained almost her whole life, but she would never stand a chance against someone like the Wolverine.

“I’ll give you a chance like I gave you men. Who sent you!?” Logan asked, walking over to her as she slowly crawled backward on the floor.

“Please, spare me,” the young lady said as he held a hand out, still not willing to give up her senpai’s name. “Who the fuck sent you woman!” Logan yelled as he hovered over her.

“Logan! The fight is done, just let her go! This is not her fault!” Mariko yelled from inside the safe room. As Logan heard her pushing the codes, he ran over to the door and roped out the outside keypad, making the inside malfunction.

“Logan? Logan! Logan!” Mariko yelled, feeling his anger from inside the room. “Stay there, princess. I’ve got some business to take care of,” Logan said as he looked back at y/n.

Y/n quickly got up in pain and ran. She yelled, hoping someone would maybe hear and help her, but even if they could hear her, who would want to go against the Wolverine.

“You ain’t gettin’ out of here,” Logan lunged after the young lady until he got her, picking her up and slamming onto the hardwood table in the dining room.

Y/n yelped, trying to move and get rid of the pain, but Logan picked her up and slammed her back onto the table.

“Ow!” She cried out as he stared down at her in anger. One hand retracted his claws as he pushed her shoulder down and the other stayed out, hovering over her face.

“Don’t make me hurt you if I don’t have to, Bub. Who sent you?” The man asked as his blades slightly stuck at her neck to scare her.

Usually, he would’ve killed her but now, the way she looked at him in fear and struggled with his one hand on her shoulder, made his breathing slow down. She wasn’t alarming. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

“You were badass just a second ago. Climbing in my back and stabbing me with that carbonadium or adamantium shit,”

“Please, just- Just let me go,” y/n begged as the blades broke the skin, making tears slip from her eyes. “Why can’t you just tell me, kid. You’re risking your life for someone who doesn’t care for yours,” Logan said, feeling a bit sad for the young lady, but he couldn’t show that. At least not at this time.

“I will never give his name. I serve him with all my life,” y/n said, eyes so glossy, she could barely see Logan. “That’s a shame, princess,” Logan traced his blades down the girl's neck, making viable scratches.

The man watched the woman’s mouth part, trying to keep in the pain, but she was human. It stung like hell.

“You’ll do anything for your master? Anything?” He asked as his blade stopped in the middle of her shirt, at the top of the collar. “Anything,” she tried seeming tough, but that soon faded as the made ripped at her suit.

Y/n’s tits flashed the man, making him groan low. “No bra on a mission? What did you expect when you got here?” Logan said, making it seem like she dressed this way for him.

“W-Wolverine, please,” y/n sobbed low as his eyes trailed down the rest of her body. “Pretty girls shouldn’t be out on missions. Especially for me. Do you know what I do to those girls?” Logan asked as he slowly lifted her skirt.

Mariko had no idea what was going on from front the outside. He had destroyed the speaker on the keypad. He can tell himself he didn’t plan this, but distorting the speaker could argue against that.

“P-Please — Take her, and I’ll leave. I won’t follow,” y/n said, feeling her heart rate speed up. “But I haven’t told you what I do to pretty girls like you,” Logan said as his blade trailed down her stomach until it cut her panties.

Y/n whined as she bucked her hips, trying to get from under him, but there was no use. The man chuckles as he rips the rest of her panties off.

“I teach them a real lesson,” Logan said as he began tugging on his belt. “W-Wolverine, stop this. Spare me, I swear I won’t follow,” Y/n said as her eyes kept switching from his eyes to his crotch.

“After I’m done with you, you’ll be coming with us. You’ve fucked yourself over,” Logan said. “N-No — No, I can’t,” y/n finally began pushing at his arm and pushed her shoulder down.

Logan retracted his last claws before he reached into his jeans and pulled himself out. Y/n had stopped moving for a second, eyes widening as she scanned his length.

The man was painfully hard, cock red and slightly blue as pre cum slipped past the slit of his tip. “N-No,” y/n stuttered as she slowly began to fight again, kicking and clawing at him, but nothing was working.

“You said you’d do anything for your master. Let’s see how much you’ll do,” he said as he moved up in between her legs, making her legs part wide.

“N-No, sir!” Y/n pushed at his lower stomach as he pushed at her entrance. “C’mon, princess. Let me in,” Logan growled, hands coming to her waist to grip and pull her into him.

“S-Sir,” y/n stuttered with a whine as she threw her head back. The young lady's back arched as her hands grabbed his wrist, trying to grab onto something to help the pain she felt in her lower stomach.

He was huge, and he knew that. He was just too angry to care about it. He needed to take it out somehow, and this random assassin that was sent to kill him and take Mariko was perfect. She was perfect.

“Should’ve quit, baby. Should’ve said no to this mission,” the man began moving at a fast hard pace, watching her body jolt at his strokes.

“P-Please, stop!” Y/n cried out, feeling her orgasm near. She was going to cum by the Wolverine pounding into her. How could she? How could she do this to her people?

“You sure, Bub? You’re about to cum — I can feel it,” Logan growled as he snapped his hips faster, watching her grip his worst tightened and shake her head.

It was getting hard to hold in her moans. He used her so well, and she couldn’t lie and say she hated it. Her body said the complete opposite. She was going to gush around him, and he was going to shoot it.

“Names Logan, by the way, Bub, and I’m gonna use all my anger out on you,”

Logan pulled back and picked the girl up, throwing her over his shoulders, and made his way into the spare room he let Mariko have last night.

“L-Logan,” y/n said the man’s name, not actually knowing why. The man threw y/n on the bed, instantly hovered over her, and turned her onto her stomach.

“Please, spare-“ y/n went to beg again, embarrassed that she wanted to explode, but he ignored her as he forced his way back through her slit, stretching her at a different angle.

Y/n cried into the pillow as her hands flew back, trying to slow his thrust by placing her hands on his lower stomach.

The man was shirtless when he opened the door, and at first, y/n was thankful for that because she could stab him better, but now, she was glad that she could feel him.

She was a struggling mess, giving him a hard time, but she knew deep down she loved this. She loved being taken just like this by him. By the Wolverine.

“C’mon, baby — Take it,” Logan grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them on her back before pushing down and snapping his hips.

Y/m felt like her back was going to break. Her vision had already gone blurry and her legs had started trembling.

With no words, only moans, y/n came around Logan’s cock, soaking him and the bed. “Ah huh, ah huh,” the man groaned as one of his hands gripped her hair and pulled her head back to hear her.

“Don’t fuckin’ hide it, kid. Cry on my cock proudly. Keep sickin’ me in for your master,” Logan said with a smirk, knowing she’d feel embarrassed if he knew what she was up to.

“Assassin my ass — Look at you. Fuckin’ weak. So fuckin’ weak, you can barely talk,” Logan teased before pushing her head into the pillow she was just crying in.

“Take it, take it! Fuckin’ take me, baby,”

[icarusredwings]

It's Bed Time, Kiddo. Part 1/3

Writing this was kind of hard because imagining being tucked in by THE Wolverine is the safest feeling, and It makes me tired.

No tws!

Standing at the door with all of her things, Vanessa had a bitter sweet smile on her face as she saw how melted Wade was into his shoulder, clinging to him like wax that was still moveable but so warm and content where it was.

"Thanks again for coming on such short notice. And for the food.. how uhm.. How much do I owe you?" He says to her, very gently moving him to the other shoulder in order to grab his wallet.

She shook her head. "Nothin' just... take care of him. He deserves it."

"He does, doesn't he?" He muttered, running a hand over his back as he whined.

"Yeah.. Hey, uhm.. Logan?" She asks, tilting her head and took a breath after moving her weight to the other foot. He could already tell that she was nervous and now he was too. It's not that she wasn't nice and all. It's just.. He's tried being in the middle of stuff before. It never works out for him.. and he didn't want to ruin what they already had going on.

"Look, Vanessa I-"

"I want you to keep this.."

He blinks as she hands him the faded Spiderman sippy cup. Looking at it for a moment, he tried to process what this meant.

"But... this is yours?"

She nods. "I know. I want you to have it."

"...Why?"

Ness rolls her eyes with a sigh. Were all men this stupid?

"Because. He likes it. Just keep it okay? Besides, I'm going to buy some bluey one's soon so.. you know.."

He didn't connect it just yet but was starting to get there. "But.. This is his first cup.."

She nods again. "I know."

Just before Logan could understand, Wade whined something about his "Mommy cuppie" being his favorite.

"Yeah? I know honey. But now it's Kitty's cup. Okay? I uhm... I have work tomarrow. So.."

"Yeah..." He said this as if just now realizing that the transfer of his cup was more than just a cup. He didn't quite understand what exactly but knew that there was something definitely more than her deciding to gift him the old cup.

"Anyway.... Time to get this one to bed. See ya around, Vanessa?"

He asks, giving her a stern look as if threatening to break her skull in half if she was trying to leave him. The both of them. He wasn't ready to take sole responsibility for him, nor knew how to explain to him that Vanessa... left.

In the not so physical kind of way.

She let out a scoff of a chuckle. "Yeah. Just give me a call whenever. Okay? Bye bye baby." She says to Wade, kissing his limp hand.

As if hearing "Bye bye" woke him up, Wade sat up, gruggily and tired. "Noo... no no no noo nooo." He whined, his arms lazily reaching out for her to take him instead. She couldn't leave if he slept on top of her, right? That was his logic, anyway.

Snorting, Logan smiled, closing the door, rubbing his back, and kissing his head. "Oh yeess, yes yes yes yes yeess." He coes, having adored when Wade was like this. Sleepily babbling for Mommy and that he 'wasn't tired' despite both of his eyes struggling to stay open and his chin was leaning on his shoulder, starting to drool.

"Shhh. It's bedtime."

"Nnnoo... mommy.." He groaned, softly kicking his legs as if trying to squirm out of his grip.

"Mommy's going to bed, and you are too. You've had a rough day. Sleep all ya want, Kid."

"MmmMMmfh!!"

"Oh yeah?"

This was Wade's 'If my feet were touching the ground right now, I'd SO stomp my feet' grunt.

"Cranky little thing, ain't you?"

Taking him into the bedroom, he collected his stuffies, laying him down, and began to tuck them in with him the way he liked.

" 'm not liddle.." He mumbled.

"Oh, my mistake. What are you then? A big tough guy?" By now, He was just teasing him. It wasn't often he was so tired that he could treat him this way. It's taken him a bit to get used to the baby talk, but he had to admit it was kind of fun. To be able to tease him.

Wade was so tired that he shrugged.

And yeah, that sounded so messed up, teasing a guy who was just a kid right now, but to Logan, it felt.. natural. Because Wade wasn't a kid in the sense that he's said way worse things with that potty mouth of his, but because Wade kind of enjoyed a bit of fuss. A bit of play fighting. "For Funsies"

"Good night, Wade. Don't let the bedbugs bite." He tells him.

"Kitty.."

"Yeah, Bub?"

He pointed to his star night light.

"Oh, right." He bends down to click it on. "Better?"

No response but a snore. Logan can't help but smile and sigh heavily, beginning to quietly clean up the room of the cryaons and other toys out. He didn't need Althea tripping or dying because of a coloring book.

Finding that crumbled up paper from earlier, He glances back at him, watching as his chest and shoulders rose and fell with each deep breath through an open drooling mouth. God, he was so cute. How could anyone want to hurt him? He quite literally played himself to sleep.

Picking it up, he gently unfolds the crinkles, trying to make out what it said in the dark. Shaking his head, he put it in his pocket, putting everything away before leaving. After silently closing the door, he took out the paper again, curiosity killing the cat.

It said "I Kitty" with a heart made out of blood in the middle of the two words. He knew it was blood because the blood was coming down from a picture of a dead guy. On the drawing, too, was him in his suit, claws drawn and full cowl.

He chuckles, blushing some. Wade had made him extra buff in the picture. So buff that his biceps had biceps and in the other corner was wade in his own costume with big heart eyes.

Was this how he truly saw him? As such a powerful person to rely on? Someone to look at with massive pink heart-shaped eyes?

Coming into the kitchen, he pinned it to the fridge with a hello kitty magnet. "There.." now it was where it belonged. Stuck to the fridge for everyone to see instead of half ripped up on the dirty floor.

[opal-owl-flight]

Heat of the moment.

Well….a first kiss is one way to end the Grandfest.

*Takes place after the results were announced, but before this comic, and after this piece!

Follow-up dialogue below!

*The situation is that 3 had woken up before everyone else, as is usual. Went to check on their team. 8 woke next, and checked in with OtH. Theyre her close friends after all! 4 woke last. She woke right as the splatfest winner was announced. And she saw 3 being carried by their team, tossed up and down.

Back to the dialogue after the comic:

"T-TANARA????"

3 scrambles back, signing apologies over and over. "|It was heat of the moment- Im sorry! Im sorry! Im sorry!!!"|"

4s glowing. "I-its fine! Its nothing, really. I get it! Calamari Inkantation does things to you!"

"|Its nothing...yeah. Nothing.|"

"AAANYWAY," John yells, breaking the silence, "ITS TIME WE CELEBRATED A WIN JUST LIKE OLD TIMES! COME ON, TEAM! AY! AY! AY! AY!"

hes crowing that victory theme, and the team scramble to pick 3 up again, running them off to the nearest tacticooler soda tub to dunk them into it. Old, veteran tradition.

4 stands there, stunned. Why-

Why did they kiss her? Did....did they actually like her back, or...

Was it really just the heat of the moment?

Oh cod, what is 8 going to think? She KNOWS that she likes them. She TOLD her she likes them!! And yet-

And yet she STILL fell for them, she STILL allowed 3 to do what they did-

She'll...try to forget it.

(But as the night passes later, she realized she cant let it go. Oh man, she has to talk to them about this...)

She knew 8 was elsewhere. She grabs one of those pamphlets they give out when the results are announced and goes to find her.

Shes gonna bury that event for now. Its nothing. Its nothing. Its...

Its important that she find her first. Yeah.

---------

GOD THESE SQUIDS ARE SO GAY LMAO

*the way 3 runs to greet 4, and then 4 picking them up and spinning them around, is something they do after 4 comes back from patrol -- both post Hero2 and after they made up post Hero3. Its their special little greeting :]

**All the ship art takes place AFTER this! I never quite figured out when it all started, it was always "vaguely in the future." With the end of story updates though, I think its safe to finally pin down where I can let the ship(s) sail!

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (part 10)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds 📍

Part 10 Good Deeds

Alastor takes you out as promised, but work/hobbies call him away. Not that you mind, you have your own hobbies to pick up.

「Warnings/Promises: Human Alastor x Fem!Reader, references to racial violence, reference to a word that’s now very much a slur, Hate for Aubrey, inaccurate portrayal of how easy it was to drink, oh yeah murder, mentions of a dismembered body, bloody shoes, physics hijinks with a corpse, these idiots in love, gators aaaaaye baby, domestic fluff?? Kind of?? Did I do it?!」

I think about Emmett Till often. Though his heinous murder came after the time this story is set, what happened to him wasn’t an isolated incident. So it is referenced here in a sense, because I can’t stop thinking about him when I think about racial violence in the south both what it looked like before and what it looks like now. I don’t say anything explicit and change the act, but it is still important to warn you. If you don’t know about the tragic death of Emmett, here’s a site with links to articles and essays. Be careful, it is awful and his deceased and battered face will come up on some links, as his mother wanted the world to see what they did to her baby. It’s an image I cannot forget and I rightfully shouldn’t. I know it’s off to have such a heavy topic before this love story but this case is the kind that would motivate such a killer as Alastor, and I don’t want to miss an opportunity to remind us of Emmett’s short life even if it’s done in a silly fanfic surrounded by nonsense. So forgive me for perhaps an odd real life addition, I’d be disappointed in myself for not addressing it when Emmett has been on my mind every time I think about the era someone like Alastor could have lived in. An era that did exist and people did live and suffer in.  An era not far removed from us, my father was alive when this happened.

Part 10 - Good Deeds

minors if you interact I will interpret that as a deep hate for me as a person so MDNI 👌🏼

“I’ve got to speak with the valet, go on ahead and find a table you like.” 

You didn’t want to do that at all, but knew Alastor wouldn’t ask if he didn’t want it. Well, he didn’t really ask, did he? He was certainly in his element, the shining and towering hotel every bit as pristine as his own public image.

It was as if every head in the room spun around to look at you. Everyone’s hair freshly styled, jewelry shiny and heavy, clothes immaculate. Your dress was lovely, no doubt, but no one looks at the elephant in her tutu at the circus and proclaims, “A ballerina!” This was, rather obviously, not your scene.

Alastor had presented the dress to you so sweetly, though. You woke up to find it hanging on the closet door hook, the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes. He had either waited for you to fall asleep to hang it or woken up before you for just the reason. It was red, his favorite color for you. The latest fashion, loose and straight. No corset. The neckline showcased a large, flat bow. 

“Partly a gift for me,” he had said as his hands slid down your sides when you had gotten dressed, “Such softness shouldn’t be hidden behind rigid boning.”

You settled into a large seashell shaped booth, the back coming up and over like you were the speck of sand yet to form into a pearl. The table was small, a glittering pattern under its shiny veneer. Everything was…glistening. Even the darkness past the windows seemed to be sparkling back at you. A few people turned to look you up and down, smiling and beginning to speak to their group before even turning back to them. 

You could wither, or bloom. So you learned back as if you were bored, legs crossed and feet gently shaking with anxiety or boredom, you hoped no one could sus out which. 

It was so odd. In your usual haunts, newcomers were greeted with curious smiles and maybe the tiniest suspicions. You were being picked apart to the bone by sharp stares and even sharper tongues, no matter how silent their jabs were to you. 

“They’re probably jealous.” Your head snapped up, when had Alastor made it in? “They look at you and know, ‘oh, that’s the kind of woman my husband would rather have a conversation with.’” You laughed, you absolutely could have stolen the attention and more from at least one of these women’s husbands.

“Perhaps they recognize these earrings, gone missing from their jewelry box earlier this year.”  You weren’t above accepting a woman’s stolen jewelry. It was her husband's fault anyway, might as well enjoy it. 

Alastor’s finger came to your chin, lifting your face further into the light, “Give em a good look, darling. I want them to eat their hearts out.” The blush that swept across your features was so fierce, the difference in temperature between your cheeks and your arms caused a chill to run down to your shins. He took a seat beside you, scooting up close and flashing that smile. A smile that had you chasing him into dark alleys and grabbing dead men by the ankles. 

A waiter came by, placing a drink in front of Alastor and asking what you’d like. You were so used to being in such spaces with the kind of men who answered for you that you didn’t reply immediately. When Alastor brought his drink to his lips, you realized it was you who was expected to speak. 

“Oh! A corpse reviver please.”

The man smiled and left with a nod. Alastor choked, hitting his chest with the fleshy part of his palm, “That was intentional, wasn’t it?”

You danced in your seat, “I’ve never been somewhere that has the stock for it that I was…allowed to order what I want.”

Alastor set his drink down and leaned back, shoulder pressing into yours teasingly, “I can’t imagine anyone disallowing you a thing.” With a sigh, you reminded him of the things you did to get your marks drunk and off their guard. You were surprised when he nodded like he remembered. “I saw that! You would sit so quietly on their laps. I remember thinking you were much more boring than you had initially made me believe.” You recoiled, and he shot you a look, “Who stalked who first, hm?” 

With a huff, you let it go. You weren’t actually sure the answer to that anyway. Focus let free from Alastor, you began to notice the looks were back. But no longer cutting into you, but wide and devouring. A few smiled at Alastor, some tipped their heads to him and offered a look of recognition. “Aren’t you popular.”

“I haven’t been out in awhile. They’re probably curious.” He took another sip, “Should be, atleast.”

A prideful smile slid up your face. You uselessly tried to mask it by licking your teeth. 

Something that happened when in public with Alastor that was unlike you was the tendency to become small. Not shrinking to provide him space; it was a turning in of your shoulders and touching of your knees in a subconscious effort to curl into a little ball of joy. Actively fighting the tug, you leaned back and opened your chest. An exercise in mental focus. 

“It’s weird. How you can be friends with my kind of people and….well, whatever is happening here.” Your hand waved at the room before you both. 

“My friendship with these people compared to our friends at the dives is…. A light bulb compared to a fire. One was manufactured to fit a need, one exists somewhat naturally.”

Tall and slim, body flat from collar bones to knees, a slip of a woman entered the room and you felt a shift in the atmosphere. Her hair was short and pitch black, fashionable to say the least. A few heads turned, a few upturned lips shifted into sneers. Side glances, hushed words, intentionally heard huffs. You turned to Alastor to find his face was as confused as your own. 

“Who is that?” You said it low, not knowing if she was friend or foe. 

“That would be Mrs. Aubrey Debreaux. Popular socialite and frequent hostess.” A sip of his drink, speaking about her like a character in a novel. “This icy reception is news to me though. She’s usually the life of the party.”

“She’s a real wet blanket now…Your circles seem really fickle. Always a bit of gossip.” You realized as soon as you said it that, well, that was the point. Alastor needed the gossip, and, well, he clearly enjoyed it.

“That’s what the wealthy do. Gossip and pretend the drama is as stressful as someone looking for their next meal.” Swirling his drink absentmindedly, his eyes followed Aubrey through the hotel bar. When you asked if he knew everyone there, he said it was his job to know people.

“Your job is in radio. You host a show, Alastor.” You laughed through your nose.

“Well, my other job.”

“I’d call that a passionate hobby.” Your hand came to rest half on his and half on the booth bench low and hidden, not wanting to monopolize, but he quickly took it and held it on the table. Another struggle to keep your shoulders from drawing inward.

The room moved on, forgetting you both were there and eventually about Aubrey too. Or so you had thought. When you drink was starting to mellow you, you turned to Alastor to admire the view. You’d come to enjoy that silence, the kind that only existed between people comfortable enough to know they didn’t need to entertain each other to enjoy each other’s company.

He was scanning the bar still, elbow on the table as he rested his chin there. From a distance of space or familiarity it could be seen as boredom. But up close and personal, you could see the wheels spinning behind his eyes.

“Golly, when in Rome!” Alastor hooted and grabbed you by the hand with one of his and carried his drink in the other, “Let’s go gossip. Bring your drink.”

He pulled you into a group of four people in a circle talking. They opened and let you both in, smiles warm. A clamor of excited ‘how long has it been’s, ‘how are you’s, and ‘you look well’s.

You’d expected him to ask for gossip like he’d said, but realized that’d be pretty conspicuous. Instead he waited, and when Aubrey passed by one of them rolled their eyes and he had his opportunity.

“What’s that look for?” He asked. 

Everyone got quiet and passed a glance between them. Finally a woman in a beaded dress and finger wave bob piped up.

“She reported a young boy touched her on the street.” Alastor watched Aubrey cycle through the groups as the friend spoke. “Grazed her hip with his hands, made a comment about white women as he did it.”

Alastor’s head whipped back around. “He got taken away that night.”

You gasped, hand coming to your mouth in sincere horror, “Just for touching her? Is he still in jail?” 

The woman’s lips pursed together, no one looking at you.

“Bless your heart. He didn’t touch her and he didn’t make it to the jailhouse, sugar.”

Suddenly the way everyone was looking everywhere but at each other sunk in. 

Panicked, you looked to Alastor. His expression was still, like the calm waters of a deep and foreboding bay. What horrors lie underneath? His tongue wiped across his teeth, and you reached out to take his drink from his hand. The action snapped him out of his daze for a second, expression softening a tad as he nodded a thank you.

If he shattered that glass now, people would remember. And when Aubrey went missing they may recall Alastor’s dramatic reaction. You knew his smiles intimately, the ones that were true and the ones that were illusions. The expressions of joy and the mask for his rage. The smile painted on his face now was nothing short of shallow.

You spent so many days in a bubble with Alastor, shielded by his grace or by the accepting and illegal circles you ran in that you sometimes forgot the reality of life. A dark privilege you hadn’t seen until you were the one looking naive for once. 

That’s right. The world was a bad place, of cruelty and injustice. Not just for you, or for parts of you, or for sides of you. Not just for women with smart mouths or a love of dance. No matter how safe the comfort of your friends and the dark halls you all commiserate in, no matter the like minds and mixed complexions of your peers, you were all just one cruel voice from being dragged into the night. Just a single accusation from being a whispered story in a glittering hotel bar. A headline no one would write. 

And some of you would be mourned more than others. 

You took a second, blinking rapidly to dry your eyes. 

“Apparently, she did it to get Hubert to leave his mistress’s apartment and come home.” A short man whose name you never got took a drag of his cigarette, “Worked. He’s been yapping all week about the state of New Orleans society and the importance of protecting the fairer among us.”

Alastor was quiet still, lips tight. You’d seen the photos in his home. You’d never discussed it, no need. Things can’t become normal if you’re always pointing them out. Plus, that was his piece to share. 

“Glad to see most of us here aren’t too keen to welcome her. I’d hate to have to find another bar.” Someone said, glancing around the room. “George just started making my martinis right.”

“Care to dance?” Alastor abruptly turned his entire body to you with a slick swivel on his heels.

You nodded, offering small polite goodbyes and setting your drinks back on the table before turning to him.

His open palm was outstretched and offering you a dance. You spread your hand over his and felt him hold you firmly before pulling you into him. 

He held you so close, much closer than anyone else on the dance floor. A scandalous lack of distance between you two. Quiet, Alastor’s eyes were distant. You were in front of him but he wasn’t seeing you. You let the song carry on a little longer for appearances before sighing into a smile.

“Why are we dancing when you have work to do? You have your tools.” Looking up at a man was rarely a view you enjoyed but the way his eyes slid down his nose and landed so sharply on you made it worth it. A look that said he’d devour you if he didn’t adore you so much. Your hand snaked behind his back to touch the hidden outline of this trusty little knife. He briefly wondered if this could be considered foreplay, the way he felt your hand on his lower back and running over his weapon. Much more intimate than he’d ever let anyone else be.

As your bodies swayed, the lights slid across the curve of his eyes and lit that bright honey brown color like a diamond twirling in the sun. The facets of his irises mesmerizing you. 

How terribly did you love him? 

How far would you fall for him?

“This would be a long one. You’d be waiting… could be a couple of hours. I need to be out of sight before she leaves.” A chill. Oh, you’d forgotten for a second, Alastor was a killer. He didn’t do it for ‘justice’ alone, he enjoyed what he did. Immensely. His voice had a note of giddiness and anger that didn’t mix well, but was oddly arousing. 

“Correction, I’d be dancing for hours. Drinking. Letting handsome men waste their money on me.” 

“Oh? Can they buy me a drink, too?”

You brought up your pointer finger, “You remind her of her humanity, and I’ll get a man to buy you a drink.” 

He linked his finger with yours. “I’ll need to give her special attention. She’s earned it.”

You loosely understood this wasn’t attention like you’d be given. This was attention that ran opposite affection. 

“I’m not here to be in your way, Alastor.” A quick kiss to your hand, one you hoped no one else saw. While no one here would be bothered by Brady, you still wanted to keep some semblance of confusion on what you two were to onlookers. 

His laugh was louder than you expected, a few heads turning, “Impossible. I’m always going wherever you are, dear.”

Would you never get up again?

“I’ll stay at the bar. If they close, I’ll just go to Beth’s.” Your fingers lingered in his, “Be careful. The best good deeds are done in the dark.”

A kiss to your nose. So gentle despite the topic. You could imagine it, the violent death of a woman. You could hear the sounds. Hers, his, the knife’s. A pang of guilt set in before you could remind yourself why this woman was going to die. A tiny smile settled on your face, he offered you a gentle command in return, “Understood, honey. Be safe.” 

You let him kiss your hand again and bow out of  the dance. You were doing it, it dawned on you as you watched him walk away. Truly kissing him goodbye at the door as he went off to work. The closest you’d ever gotten, atleast. 

He stopped by a group and said some quick goodbyes, apologies for leaving early, and left the hotel bar. 

You knew he had killed women before, Alastor was all for equality, but a part of you worried. Women tend to scream louder, and be heard more often, than men. A man screams and people just…keep walking. What would he do? Where would he do it?

With a sniffle, you let the jealousy of just what he would need to do to get her alone flutter away. Taking a seat back at your table, you sipped your drink and watched the others dance and chat. How odd, they could sway in such large places with big windows and bright lights with no fear of cops. Your scenes were dark, dusty, never seeing the sky. 

“He left ya?” One of the earlier women came by, someone you vaguely remember him nodding a ‘hello’ to at some point in the evening. 

Thankfully you were still quick on your feet. “Well, we came separately, of course we’d leave separately.”

A laughed, “Of course.” She leaned down, touching at your hair for a second, curiously, “Don’t hold your breath. But, it is nice he got you in here, huh? Must be a treat for you.” 

Your own laugh was just as abrupt as Alastor’s earlier, your hand coming to hide your smile. All you could muster was a nod. Yes, you stood out. Yes, you didn’t fit in with these people for many reasons. But, it wasn’t your first time in nice spaces. First time not pressed into a man who’d been made to believe he was more important the whole time, but still. 

It took two more drinks for Aubrey to leave. But there was a problem. As she was trying to bow out of the room, a man kept hooking his fingers under the loose belt of her boxy drop waist dress.

With practiced skill, you took note of where her eyes lingered on him, how her hand came to his arm but didn’t actually press him away. Not earnestly.

The pushy man saw it too, every little soft ‘no’ was a half ‘yes’. And Aubrey seemed to like that. It was almost ironic, given what she had done, how she egged on the younger man before her now by pretending she didn’t want him. His hand landed on her hip forcefully, her hand on his chest gingerly. He leaned in close, she pulled away barely.

The next act was the most classic to women of your era. The false exit.

Aubrey whispered something, he nodded eagerly and his many hands returned to himself.

She smiled at the back of everyone’s heads, as nearly no one would look her way, and she slipped out the doors.

You couldn’t stop yourself from shimmying as you slid from your booth. Barely a step away, you leaned back and grabbed the last sip in your glass. You swished it around your mouth like listerine, and swallowed it. Before you got too close, you pinched your cheeks until your eyes began to water.

You’d just found a way to make yourself useful.

“Whoopsie Daisy!” You giggled, shoulder colliding with the man’s chest as you stumbled past.

“Watch - ooh, hey,” the free hand that had come to keep you from getting closer quickly softened, curling around your waist. The same hand that’d just been on the socialite. You were sure to look up and sigh into him, your breath soaked in alcohol. “You okay, doll? Had a bit too much?”

With glassy eyes you nodded, closing them and letting your head nod lazily, “I lost my thing!” You laughed, hitting his chest.

“Your what? I happen to be a thing.” 

How quickly he forgot his target when easier to pick fruit appeared.

“No, silly!” A practiced hiccup, “my little…”

“Your little…?”

Your fingers wiggled in the direction of your hip.

“Purse!” A beaming grin. He asked if you needed help finding it. “Well, how else am I gonna get another drink!” The hand on your waist fell to your hip and slunk lower. 

“Oh well, I could help ya with that.” He leaned in, looking around first as if he had a secret, “I have a room upstairs.”

You tutted, “No no, I am a married woman!” He lifted your left hand, turning it over in a dramatic search for a ring. “Well, engaged…” you diverted your gaze. He lifted his hand to his brow then and scanned the room like a sailor to the horizon. “He’s working late.” You whined.

Why did his kind of man always want the taken woman? Did they think the chase was more meaningful then? Did they feel like they’d won some tug-of-war with an invisible, unaware opponent?

Maybe they were hardwired to hoard resources.

You let him seat you at the bar, and when he ordered you a drink you asked to know your savior’s name. William.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Alastor was none the wiser, smoking a cigarette under the streetlamp just off to the side of the hotel awning. He didn’t smoke often before you, but he found the lure of sitting on the porch passing a pill between you both too hard to fight. And soon enough the habit grew from a drinking pastime to just… something to do with his hands.

As Aubrey appeared, waiting for her driver to retrieve the car, Alastor tossed the butt to the street and walked up on her.

“I’m quite cross with you, Aubrey.” His tone was smiling as his hand slid behind her neck and tugged her away from the safety and lights of the awning.

“Oh! Alastor, I’m actually waiting for my car.” She struggled to keep up with his pace in her heels, weakly pointing back to where the valet had stood earlier. She resisted a little, the palm on the nape of her neck silently shutting her down.

“Nonsense. We have business together.” Alastor let his hand fall to her upper arm as he yanked her into the closest side street. “I hear you’ve been a very bad girl.”

Aubrey huffed, pulling back against him once, then twice, but ultimately acquiesced when she could see his car down the street.

“Fine, you can drive me home then.” A misplaced giggle, her survival skills dulled by ego.

He tossed her roughly against the car, hand gripping her face tightly. She tried to say his name, but his hold was so firm her jaw was locked.

“You’re going to get into my car now.” Alastor’s eyes had lost their pupil, an expanse of a seemingly endless dark brown in the heavy shadows left by the lamp’s light. When he let her face go, she rolled her eyes and pulled open the back seat door.

That wasn’t what he had meant, not there, but he closed the door behind her and got into the driver’s seat. He hadn’t brought the tarp tonight, not expecting to need it, so maybe the backseat was his best option regardless.

When he pulled away, she reminded him he didn’t know her address.

“I’m not taking you home. I told you. I have a bone to pick with you.” Alastor found himself incapable of putting on a ruse for her. His patience was entirely lost in his unraveling anger.

“Oooh? A bone, you say. Well, well.” Aubrey leaned forward onto the front seat, hands snaking down his shoulders and chest so she could nip at his ear, “Finally letting me have a ride.”

He had to set his right hand in the darkness of his lap to hide the tremble, a disgusted rage manifesting in uncommon ways. 

As her fingers found the buttons of his waist coat, Alastor struggled to see the road in front of him. His vision was going white, and then red. His blood pressure was so high he was nearly blind. 

And when two hot fingers broached the small space between buttons of his dress shirt and touched the bare skin of his chest, the car came to an abrupt halt. The force threw her into the backseat. 

Alastor slammed the front seat door shut before opening the back and caging her in. “I can’t stand another second of your existence.” She crawled backward, making room for him. “I’m going to fucking kill you.” 

Aubrey settled her back against the opposite door, “Oh, the petit mort.”

His head hung low in frustration, a growled  “No, the big one.” as he raked his fingers through his hair to keep from punching his own car seat.

“So I’ve heard.” She pulled up the hem of her dress slowly.

“For fucks sake Aubrey! I’m not using double entendre!” His hands wrapped around her neck. “Must I really remind you of what wrongs you’ve committed?!”

A brief panic finally came, “Wrongs?? Excuse you.”

He could have sworn the snap in his brain had been audible to her as he lost his last bit of patience.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Excuse me.” You settled back into the seat, having taken a bathroom break to down some water in secret. You weren’t trying to actually end up blacked out.

“Anyway,  that's how we secured the riverside house.” William leaned into you. You tried to sip your drink and found it empty, having managed to finish it absentmindedly while he rambled on about himself earlier. As you stared at him you let your eyes lose focus and drift into plans for the morning. You’d like biscuits. Alastor had some sausage he’d picked up the other day, maybe a little gravy and some eggs. It’d be like a Sunday meal nice families ate after church. You assumed. Out of the peripheral of your daydream you saw him tap the bar twice and hold up two fingers. “Charge to 1033.” He said. With the clarity of someone who wasn’t pretending to be drunk you quickly held up three.

William shot you a confused look.

“One for my darling.” He made a show of looking around, the bartender pausing. You gave him a confirmation nod, “Three, please.”

“And is he in the room with us now, Helen? I’m beginning to think he’s imaginary.”

It seemed a fine enough name to give him.

“No! But I made a promise. Or…,” you returned the lean, head resting on his shoulder, “are three drinks a little steep for you?“ With a huff, he pulled out a pair of C notes and set them on the bar. The bartender nodded, reaching for the top shelf. You whistled at the sight. Too much money for the total seven drinks he’d ordered, if you weren’t somewhere Alastor frequented you’d have slipped them under the lip of your stockings when the man wasn’t looking. He was charging the room anyway, the large bills were just for show…

“One reviver for the miss, one brandy for the sir, and a rye whiskey neat for the beau.” The bartender set the drinks down on red napkins. The whiskey sat between you both, and after a beat you realized you hadn’t actually told him what to make for Alastor. And come to think of it, your last drink hadn’t been a reviver at all but a brandy ordered by William.

“Ya know I stood up another woman to help you,” he said it into your cheek, stealing your attention by breaking your line of thought. His arm around your shoulder curled to hold you closer, “Don’t I get a reward for that?”

His breath reeked of sickeningly sweet brandy, the taste sticking to the back of your throat. Your head tilted back so you could look at him down your nose, right hand coming to rest on his thigh.

The heat of his body was radiating through the fabric of his pants and made your stomach turn. How many hot and sweaty bodies had you had the pleasure and displeasure of touching?

A smirk painted your face, remembering seeing sweat sticking to Alastor’s forehead the last time he fucked you. What had you done for that reward? Ah right, the somehow shocking act of not withholding praise for how well planned out his greenhouse was. How impressive he was to you in so many ways. You could have lingered on that recollection, on how Alastor set down his coffee and kissed you. And how he didn’t stop until you were both left undone and flustered. But movement stirred away the pleasant memory to bring you back to an unpleasant reality.

His hand roamed down your arm, uncomfortably warm palm on your exposed skin. 

“Oh, I know you did.” You said.

William chuckled, absolutely no idea what you were talking about and not particularly giving a shit. “Did I mention I have a room here?”

“Ten thirty three.” You repeated. 

He looked genuinely shocked, “How’d you know that?” The man was absolutely mystified.

“I— you just…,” your mask slipped in the face of such abject stupidity, “Lucky guess.” William drank his brandy slowly, mentioning you should bet on the ponies together. You nodded. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Alastor didn’t care for strangulation. It took so much time and wasn’t particularly satisfying. No pleading, no screaming, no blood and gore. Just…. someone flailing beneath you and turning purple. Boring. 

He brought up the accusations before he began to squeeze, and her panic transformed to relief. “Oh that?” She tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down, “Are you really miffed at me about that?”

“Yes, Aubrey! You condemned an innocent child to a horrid death!” His hands loosened, all of his neurons firing off to feel pain in his own heart. 

She rolled her eyes, “I wouldn’t call them children. You seem so upset, hun. Did you have a mam-?”

The rest of the word was barely squeaked out of her, he couldn’t let her finish it. He wasn’t sure what face he made. But whatever it was, it scared her. The carefree way she’d been handling the interaction finally died, and he could register actual fear in her eyes then. 

But the rage just … withered. How many children had his mother loved and doted on before her last, much kinder position? How many Aubreys had she raised. It was nothing short of an overwhelmingly violent sadness that laced his finger together around her neck and tightened, the full weight of his body coming down to crush her airways. He wanted such sentiments to be smothered out of the world like the air in her lungs. If he killed enough, could he make a dent in their influence? He could try. For her. For his mother. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Ya know, I could take real good care of you. If that’s what’s stopping you from coming upstairs.” 

With a deep breath, you gulped the drink halfway down. “Your fella doesn’t need to know. I could even get you your own place, you could wait for me there when he’s late with work. Have dinner ready. Slip off my shoes like a good girl.”

“Trust me; you’ve got a better chance of her smacking you with your shoes than slipping them off like a maid.” Alastor was resting his elbow on the bar behind you, head leaning on his hand. “Hey doll. That one mine?” He pointed at the glass.

“Oh? Alastor is the fiancé?,” William gave off a snide laugh as he was interrupted, Alastor standing up and walking to come between you two, “This guy?! Everyone knows he’s a frigid bitch. You must be a dive alley-cat if you’re—,” Alastor’s fist connected with the man’s jaw, eliciting a sickening crack. He needed both hands to keep himself from falling down with William as he was knocked back out of his bar stool. Alastor’s feet slipped on the spilt brandy, causing him to seize the stool for momentary support.

Alastor took the glass of whiskey with his non-dominant hand and downed it. He cooed, “Top shelf, Georgie?” The bartender nodded. “Good choice. Picked a worthy sucker, sweetheart. Ready to peel?”

You watched William try to stand, glass stuck to his palm. He did manage to get on his knees, shouting at the staff who stood motionless and unphased behind the counter. They didn’t say anything at all, oddly, until Alastor extended his swelling hand to you.

“Have a good evening, sir.”

Alastor flashed his signature smile and guided you out of the hotel bar. You only got a few steps before quickly running back and snatching one of the 100$ bills from the counter. William would’ve taken it back from the bar anyway. What a waste!

When a waiter offered Alastor a warm and familiar look you had to wonder, did people really not know what he did in the darkness of the New Orlean’s alleys? Did a part of them not feel some kind of debt to him? Or was he just painfully friendly when socializing?

“Just to be clear,” Alastor let the doorman open the lobby door, “It’s not the accusation of sex work that compelled me to sock him. It’s the implication you’d be cheap.” He waved the valet from the car and opened the door for you, “If you chose to sell your companionship at true worth, his daddy’s money couldn’t even buy him a kiss.”

“Aww,” you smiled at him through the thin windowpane, “Would you really be so cavalier about such a job if I did?”

“Would I? Gosh that’d make retirement much quicker for me.” He slid into the driver's seat and the door shut with a sharp ting. As he took hold of the wheel he reclined to let his hand settle behind you on the backrest, and then you three were off. 

“Oh by the way, Aubrey’s in the backseat.”

You turned slowly, first coming into view were her tiny, shining silver shoes. Your eyes kept traveling; stocking covered calves and then the bottom of her dress just past her knees.

Alastor’s coat draped over her torso and shoulders caused you to flit to him, confirming his jacket was gone, and back to her. 

Her face looked like that of a sleeping passenger. 

No blood.

When the car was a few blocks from the hotel, you leaned back and lifted the jacket. Her abdomen was clean, the white of her dress pristine. At first her neck seemed clear of cuts or abrasions until you rode past a streetlamp and a beam of light revealed the slowly forming collar of bruises.

Special attention.

For a hair of a moment you began to gently cover her again, before remembering her crimes and dropping it on her unceremoniously.

“Trunk not good enough for her?”

“Got interrupted. Booked it back to you.” He shook his head and patted the seat in tandem.

What luck that just as he felt sure she was too far gone for revival, he let go over her neck and sat up in time for someone to notice him. Fishing in his jacket draped over the seat, he found his cigarette case just as—

“What exactly are you two doing?” An officer was flashing his light through the passenger side back window.

Alastor froze, Aubrey motionless between his legs and a cigarette dangling unlit between his lips. “You startled me, officer! We were just canoodling. But she’s gone and fallen asleep before the main event.”

The officer’s brass light shone down but couldn’t reach the dead woman’s face past the shadow cast by the car door and glass. “She alright?”

Alastor’s eyes drifted down to the deceased socialite, “Truth be told sir, she’s had a bit too much of the giggle water.” Fishing your lighter from his waistcoat pocket, he lit this cigarette before setting the jacket over Aubrey like a gentleman.

“Alright y'all better get lost. Tell your moll this ain’t ladylike.” The officer tapped the window with his knuckle and when she didn’t stir just left with a huff.

Alastor was quick to leave the backseat and drive off, circling around at the next block to head back to the hotel.

“Is… everything alright?” You asked, very obviously concerned.

“Peachy! I just said we were necking before she passed out drunk.“ he leaned over and kissed your cheek, “Anything exciting on your end?”

Patting his leg you beamed up at him, “Always so quick on your feet! I don’t know why I worry so much.” His face lit up and you wanted nothing more than to launch into a praise filled rant that fueled his smile. But, you moved on to the question at hand. After a moment to think, you remembered ‘the best good deeds are done in the dark’. “Nope! Just got tipsy on William’s dime. An odd woman did touch my hair…,” you recounted every second, leaving out why you chose William, to Alastor. You hadn’t meant to, and he hadn’t actually asked, the evening’s events just seemed to flow out of you. The way he always added little comments and nodded made it feel like a conversation and not just you rambling. 

When the car was pulling into the driveway, you asked Alastor if you could drive it behind the house. Puzzled, he put it in park and let you sit between his legs. You started slowly, but quickly began to accelerate. As you approached the house you turned sharply to the left, right side tires ever so slightly leaving the ground. A sharp correction to the right to straighten out. One of his hands clutched you at the waist, the other gripping the seat.

He tried to form some kind of words but they came out a jumbled and panicked mash of sounds as you barreled toward the greenhouse. 

You slammed your foot on the brakes and Aubrey flew off the back seat and hit the floor with a loud thud.

“Ha!” You slapped the wheel, “I’ve been wanting to hear that sound the whole drive!” 

He used both arms now to squeeze you appreciatively, “You’re just the bee’s knees.” Alastor nuzzled into the back of your neck, truly feeling his heart flutter. You made him skip a beat. So many days and nights not even imagining such a pairing.

The best scenario he could think up was a partner who wouldn’t ask questions, who didn’t care to know, who was maybe a little too naive but otherwise capable. Even in his wildest dreams he hadn’t dared to think someone would exist who could support him.

And not just in the killing, which was a hurdle of course, but the other parts of him. The little sacrifices you made for him without complaint. 

What did he do for you, he worried. Your body was his on the occasions he wanted but never did you ask for him. You shared the housework equally. Yes he drove you around but your skills with the car were still new. Insignificant things, like making your coffee when he awoke first and waiting for you after work. With the detective still looking for connections, he couldn’t even properly introduce you or flaunt you around to his circles.

Like a flash of lightning taking down a tree, insecurity shook him. What on earth was keeping you there? Of all the people in New Orleans, how was he any more worth your time than the next?

If anything, he was nothing short of troublesome. His hold on you twisted from thankful to desperate.

Even the lovely evening out he had promised you, he’d left you alone in a strange place. A stranger had bought you more drinks than he had. 

“Would you like to go to the woods with me tonight? To dispose of Aubrey?” His lips swiped across the fabric of your dress as he said it.

The sudden advancement into his hobby took you by surprise. You hugged his arms against you, “Really? Are you sure?”

“If you don’t want to…”

“Is that what I said?”

“Well, no….”

“Don’t put words in my mouth! I absolutely want to go!” Your arms squeezed his.

He chuckled into your shoulder and gave your hip a pat, “Let me get her packaged up. You go rest your feet and I’ll come get you when I’m ready to go.”

You watched from the kitchen, the light he hung from the greenhouse ceiling setting the entire space aglow. When he finally emerged, his sleeves were rolled up past his elbows and his hair was falling into his face, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose before he could push it back into place. He waved from the porch, and when you made it out to him he was already pulling out small bundles.

“We’ll bury the pieces in separate places.” He dragged out a small trash tin with the lid already clapped down. “And this goes into the water.”

The packages were like Tommy’s, but smaller. They fit easily into the trunk, and beside them he snuggly fit the metal bucket.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The Ford was parked down a dirt road far from sight, taking a parcel at a time and a shovel, you followed him into the woods. 

You had to ask, why not just his land? Wasn’t that safer? Easier?

“Well, a skull found out here is easier to act shocked about than on my property.”

The ground was still soft, but you could imagine it was rock solid in winter. “Isn’t this dangerous? Aren’t you slowed down in the colder months?” You kept your eyes open wide, adjusting to the pitch black of the forest. The trees were too close and too full still to see the stars. But soon they’d brown and die, revealing the sky’s light. Revealing Alastor.

“Eh it’s mostly busy during mating season because the hunters come out in numbers. But in general I avoid being here in the very early morning hours.” He paused and you reached out for the shovel for your turn, “It’s not too bad overall.”

“They mate in fall. It’s almost fall now.” You widened your stance for balance and began to dig. 

“Yeeees but I’m not alone!” He chirped.

“Fine… just, don’t come out when I’m not able to join you. Just wait or, I don’t know, burn them or something.” You tried to dig fast, wanting to spare his injured hand another turn.

“Very ineffective, brings too much attention and the body never burns all the way. It’s still identifiable in many cases.” Alastor said it quickly, as he’d had nearly a lifetime to think of these things and test them. 

You huffed, “Well, fuck. Okay. Still.” You leaned over and offered your index finger, not looking at him as you did. He laughed before wiping his hand clean on his pants and hooking his with yours. 

A small scream erupted from you, startling him. Your short heel sunk into the dirt when you leaned to lock fingers. The sudden loss of balance startled you. “Sorry… flat shoes. I need flat shoes…these are gonna be the death of me.”

Alastor’s hand came to his heart, pounding in his chest, “Of us. My heart nearly stopped.”

You dug many holes, all of them quite small in radius, just wide enough to slip in what you needed to. After each was deep enough by some standard you didn’t know, he would untie the twine around the package and let the contents spill out and down into the little cylinderical pocket of dirt. 

The first package had her hands. Then next was her feet. Her arms in pieces and then later her legs. The hips, the chest and shoulders, and finally, her head. You were grateful for the darkness, not wanting to see her face now that it was no longer attached to her body. 

The brush was so thick and the woods so dense that you found it hard to distinguish the burial spots once they’d been filled in and covered up. He explained most people came out there with a purpose, not really noticing some disturbed dirt here and there. It’s not like they’re people sized.

“You’re just something else, ya know that?” You said it into the shadows and didn’t see him wince. But you somehow, accidentally, knew to clarify, “I’m always so impressed by your way of doing things. You’ve really thought it out well huh? I know I should worry less but it’s hard.”

Because of the shade you didn’t see the way his shoulders relaxed. You never made him regret your inclusion.

Alastor carried the bucket as you slowly made your way through the darkness. You could hear the sounds of bugs, though you couldn’t see any.  The water surprised you, his arm coming to stop you from walking into the bayou.

“In winter they’ll get really still, so I slow down then too. But we still have time, it’s not too cold yet for them.” He took off the lid, the smell of copper blossoming from the tin.

With practiced moves, he tossed the viscera as far as he could into the small inlet marsh of the river. 

Within seconds the water frothed and rolled with the snapping of powerful jaws.

“Gosh they’re so neat.” You said, reaching out into the darkness for his hand. You couldn’t see him looking at you as you watched the prehistoric animals dispose of his crimes.

He wanted to kiss you. To confess every little happiness you filled his formerly hollow chest with. But he held back. He knew better. He’d tried before, once. When he thought settling was better than nothing. It ended terribly. It was better to just exist beside you for as long as you’d entertain his company. If you knew, he thought, of all the futures he imagined with you, you’d just feel tied down by his hopes. You weren’t a small bird he could hold in his home. 

You promised to not get in his way. The least he could do was not cage you with his love. He wouldn’t hold you back.

“Alastor.”

“Yeah?” He said dreamily.

“I think… ” You fought the urge to scream at the sensation between your toes, “Aubrey dripped into my shoes.”

Alastor yanked the bucket away from you, the angle he haphazardly held at it with a single finger to hold your hand having caused the liquid remains to leak out.

“Ankle boots. Ankle boots, no heel.” You muttered, the shoe rinsed off in the water with a paranoid speed now squishing under your sole. The action was enough to draw attention to your shore, long and round snouts moving toward you in the night as you got rid of Aubrey. It was time to go. 

The drive home was dark and silent. The bucket and tarps rinsed with the gas can full of water he always kept in the oversized, custom built trunk. It had taken longer than you had realized, which just brought up renewed worry for his sleep schedule.

When you finally made it home and into the bedroom, he mumbled it was too late to shower. A coordinated grumble between you that you’d both just wash the sheets in the morning. Alastor sat on the end of the bed and bent down, your hand coming to his shoulder to stop him. 

Exhausted, aching, and quite confident you smelled of sweat coated dirt with the tiniest hint of dead Aubrey mixed with alive William (blood and brandy, respectively), you lowered yourself to your knees. You untied the waxed laces of the right shoe, made of a shiny brown leather, and slipped it off. 

Alastor felt his throat tighten as he had to blink to keep tears away. You always seemed to listen when he spoke. Really listened, even when he was just being playful. Another tiny sweetness piled onto the mountain you were currently burying him under. Another ounce of inadequacy tipped on his self measured scales.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Hush, I don’t have to do anything.” You said it and he laughed breathlessly knowing he’d heard it before and praying he’d hear it forever. “I want to.”

You set the left shoe beside the right. When you didn’t stand but instead stared at him patiently, Alastor undid his pants and lifted his hips to push them down. You folded them neatly beside his shoes. Feeling up his legs as if you couldn’t see them there in front of you, you found his sock garters. 

“Keep the socks, please. It’s getting chilly.” He undid his shirt and folded it on his lap. 

When he was in just his underwear and socks, you looked up at him and wondered if he knew. That this was the closest to expressing “I love you” you had ever been. The act itself perhaps far louder than any words could be.

Sitting back, he patted between his legs like he had in the car. As you sat, he undid the buttons down the back of your dress. Why were so many women’s clothing items made in a way that required two people?

In the mirror above the dresser you took in the sight. When the dress fell to your waist he kissed your shoulder and met you in the reflection.

“Quite a pretty couple, if I do say so myself.” He rested his chin where he had just kissed and smiled at you. “What did I do to deserve your attention?”

“Affection,” you corrected. “Aubrey got attention.” He nodded slightly. “I think it’s karma.” You watched his brow arch. “You’ve earned me. Whatever that means, or looks like. We were put together for a reason.”

It was the sappiest thing you’d ever said and a year ago you’d have laughed in someone’s face for saying it. If a character in a novel spewed it out in a confession you’d have closed the book. But you meant it. Every single word was part of the fact this was supposed to happen. The idea that any timeline existed where your paths never crossed gave you the shivers.

Alastor closed his eyes, exhaustion catching up quickly as comfort opened the door for it. That didn’t make any sense to him at all. Why would anyone, god or the devil, give him something good just for the sake of being a good thing. He was very plainly bad. There must be a catch. That fear he felt before, the fear of wanting something too much, reappeared. Turning its ugly head to him as if called by name. 

Why? He could feel something, someone, setting their sights on him. 

When he opened his eyes, you were there still, looking at him. A smile too sweet. He felt the compulsion to tell you to run. That if this was his karma, it would end the way he deserved. And he didn’t deserve happiness. He didn’t deserve you.

But instead he leaned down, lifted your dress, and unclamped your garters. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to cling to what good he had now. Even knowing he couldn’t possibly get to keep it. His fingertips delighted in rolling down the delicate nylon. He watched the red stained end loosen around your toes, a mental note to burn them before he continued his undressing.

“Lift your hips, my love. I’ll get you all ready for bed.” As he pressed forward and bent into you so he could slip off the stockings he turned to look at the you in front of him, “And I’ll keep you warm.”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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[squirting-sub]

I have trouble sleeping and sometimes I take light medication for it. It comes in liquid form and oftentimes my dom will remind me to take it and give me the meds.

I also have a huge somno kink.

We talked about it and my dom now feels comfortable using me while I sleep. Yesterday, she gave me the meds and said it's perfect because I'll never know when she slips me just a little more (because the first time she tried, I woke up as soon as she touched me).

The meds made me tired and I fell asleep holding her in my arms (yes, I'm the big spoon). Sometimes she gets up after I fall asleep for some me-time and she did that night.

The moon was shining brightly into my room and when I turned onto my back the blanket slipped, only covering one of my legs and part of my hip. When she came back to the bedroom, she saw me in the moonlight. My chest on display as I sleep in just a thong. My legs slightly spread.

I woke up to her using my hand as a toy, rubbing and fucking herself with it before flipping me and pushing me into the mattress to grind on my ass. The things she said turned it into light cnc. With the meds, the sleepiness and just the moonlight, it wasn't hard for me to imagine her being a stranger that broke into my room just to use and abuse me. She ended up fucking me hard and even fisting me because the whole thing turned me on so much.

Later, she told me she had planned to do it on the weekend when I don't have work the next day, but when she saw me laying there in the moonlight, the blanket barely even covering me and in the perfect position... it clearly was an invitation and too perfect of an opportunity to pass it up.

[blurbfics]

There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part four]

Summary: Time skip. Cassian decides Eowyn could benefit from a little extra training. a.k.a., let the slow-burn begin

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: swearing, sexual implications, male/female sparring, shy!Azriel, use of the word "ginger" to refer to Eris

Minors, do not interact.

a/n: thank you so much for accompanying me in this journey! let's figure out where this story is headed together, shall we?

part one -- part two -- part three

"I just kept hoping, I just kept hoping

the way would become clear.

I spent all this time

tryna play nice and fight my way here.

See, I've been having me a real hard time

but it feels so nice to know I'm gonna be alright."

Alabama Shakes, This Feeling

CASSIAN POV

He knew, from the moment he woke up, that today would be a good day.

Knew it when he woke up with his mate’s lips wrapped around his cock, knelt with her ass up from between his legs as she looked up at him, her gray eyes lit with knowing mischief as she roused him in his second favorite way of waking up (second only to his gaining of consciousness from between her thighs, a game they liked to play– how long until Cassian realizes he’s being suffocated by his mate’s pussy?)

Knew it when he went down to breakfast, to find his usual porridge, the gruel made better when his mate added those tiny dashes of cinnamon and allspice she’d been obsessing over since Eowyn began to introduce a myriad of spices she assured didn’t carry empty calories and made everything taste better.

But getting punched in the face? That solidified his assessment for the day.

The sound of bones hitting flesh was not an uncommon sound in the training ring. After all, that was what they were there to do. But the sound of Eowyn’s small but fierce fist connecting with the side of his jaw echoed through the ring with such a thunderous smack that everyone stopped what they were doing and focused only on them.

When he saw Eowyn’s wide, almost fearful eyes, the only part of her face revealed from her coverings, the only thing he could do was grin in reply. “Think you can do that again?” He challenged, moving his jaw side to side to relieve the familiar ache.

Instantly, the fear disappeared as she remembered that this was what they were here for and she had done absolutely nothing wrong.

It had been a few months since the young priestess had joined their little group of Warrior Priestesses, as he liked to call them. Although he had to admit he was rather partial to his mate and her friends, Eowyn had been quick to sneak her way into his limited list of favorite people. The girl was strong, both in character and when it came to the constant drilling they did. She was determined and always hyper-focused, never hesitating to repeat a motion or new move again and again until she got it right— did so, with little to no complaint, as well.

She was funny in a strange way, sharing that dry wit that he always came to associate with his mate, one of the reasons he believed the girls got along so well. And she was incredibly smart. He had no need to see her septganiums to know that, she simply oozed a certain sense of knowing. One had only to take a look at her deep dark eyes (in the rare and far between occasions she didn’t cover her entire head, that is) to see that shrewdness in her eye, as if she was in on a joke with the world at everyone else’s expense.

But most of all, she was fast.

The first time he’d seen her and Azriel go at it during their hand-to-hand combat sessions (as she was the odd-fae out when the females paired off to spar), he hadn’t hesitated to insert himself, practically trembling with excitement as he proposed a trade with his brother. Azriel could train with the three Valkyries, as they were honing in their sword-fighting and everyone knew that swordplay was Az’s area of expertise, while Cassian gave Wynnie a whirl, he had said, winking at the priestess whose only reply was to jut out a hip and rest a hand on it in an endearingly sassy way.

He hadn’t missed the way his brother’s jaw clenched in annoyance despite his otherwise unmoved face, as he merely nodded once, stilted, and left them to spar. He also hadn’t missed the fact that he could often feel his brother’s penetrating gaze on them whenever Cass had to physically adjust Eowyn’s elbows or whenever he landed a slightly-too-hard blow upon the young priestess (who actually took the jabs with much more grace and sportsmanship than others he knew— I’m looking at you, Rhys— he called out into the open void of his head in case the High Lord was eavesdropping).

But today of all days, Eowyn’s training had paid off. Months of hard training and half-taunting her had culminated into the perfect moment where she had landed a concise and heavy blow to his jaw, in a manner much too fast and skilled for him to catch immediately.

He had never been more proud of her.

Surprise gone, she smirked at him from under her covering, eyes glinting with mirth, “I’m about to drop you like a sack of potatoes.”

Grinning back, he got in position, wings ruffling slightly and beckoned her to try.

—

Although no one had the remotest intention of allowing any of the Valkyries near the upcoming Blood Rite, Cassian and Azriel had decided that the obstacle course from the previous year had been an invigorating and perfect team-building success.

The Valkyries, both the new and the slightly more experienced, continued their tradition at the end of each training session to attempt to cut the ribbon, not so much as the true Valkyrie rite of passage, but out of respect and tradition for their predecessors. The obstacle course had been something that was itching at Cassian’s brain again and he was looking forward to seeing what this batch of Warrior Priestesses could do.

Thus, he had dragged Azriel over to the kitchen table that same night to begin to brainstorm possible courses for the girls that didn’t overlap with what they had done before. Thankfully his brother was an endless pit of ideas, some more fatal that others, but all so concise that Cassian knew Azriel had been planning this for much longer than he thought.

Yawning behind his mug, Cassian inspected his brother before taking a sip from his lavender and chamomile tea, yet another addition to his routine influenced by Eowyn. The reminder of the young female brought a sudden idea to his mind.

“What do you think of Eowyn?” He asked his brother casually, trying to remember if he’d ever seen the pair interact beyond the basics of training.

Azriel, to his credit, didn’t choke on his own tea, exactly, but Cassian— not the most observant by nature but also not an idiot— noticed the way his brother seemed to tense, his breathing halting before painstakingly exhaling out the smallest hint of a shudder, his eyes suddenly fixed on the fruit at the center of the table.

“What… do you mean?” Azriel asked slowly.

Cassian chuckled lightly, a little confused as he looked at his brother in a way to say what do you think I mean? Just exactly what I asked.

“She punched me in the face today,” Cassian stated obviously, as if that hadn’t been the talk echoing through the mountain all day long. His brother looked up at him and blinked, face blank. 

Cassian took that as encouragement to continue, although he found himself slightly concerned at the fact that he had to spell it out for him. “She’s skilled. And she works hard, wants to work hard,” he emphasized. “I mean she hasn’t said anything to me, but I think some extra training would do her good.”

“You want her to train more?” His brother seemed to gather his composure, and although his strange behavior sparked a little tendril of interest in Cassian, he let it go for the moment.

“I want you to train her more,” Cassian corrected, placing his clasped hands on the table in a manner he’d seen Rhys do one too many times.

“Why don’t you do it?” Azriel bristled.

“Because I have courier duties with what’s-his-ginger-face.”

“And you assume I have nothing better to do with my time? Weren’t you assigned that job specifically because I was too swamped with work?”

“But all that shit with Briallyn is over and done with, and we haven’t heard a peep or anything related to Koschei in months,” he took another sip of his tea, making a mental note to send Eowyn some flowers or something. He’d quickly gotten addicted to his night tea, almost as much as the fancy roasted beans she liked to grind together and brew for him and the other girls whenever Nesta had them over for lunch. “That is, unless you want to take back your place and deal with that pompous asshole?”

Cassian thought about it. “Actually, that does sound better.”

“No,” Azriel spoke with such finality that Cassian could only stare at him. Azriel cleared his throat, “you know I can’t stand that prick.” He looked away and sighed, “alright, I’ll train her.”

“If she even wants to,” Cassian chuckled. “I know you don’t stay here as much as you used to, but you should consider coming back here if she agrees. And don’t start with that ‘I don’t want to intrude’ bullshit. Wynnie hangs around here all the time and we barely even see her.”

“That’s because she’s always in the greenhouse.”

“And how would you know that?” Cassian couldn’t help but prod, disregarding his earlier decision to leave things alone. Azriel only motioned to his shadows, eyebrow raised. Cassian continued, although with no small amount of doubt at his brother’s nonchalance. “You know, it’s actually been pretty nice having her around. Granted, she’s always talking to herself, but she’s got good taste,” he brought the tea cup up in mock salute.

“You don’t have to convince me, I already agreed to train her” Azriel rolled his eyes.

But there was more there. Cassian knew his brother, knew him better than anyone other than Rhys, who could quite literally enter his mind, and he knew there was something there, something simmering under the surface.

He only hoped no one got burned in the process.

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in surrender, “we’ll ask her tomorrow then.”

—

As he settled down for bed after taking a long and quite enlightening bubbly bath with his mate, he listened as she shared the details of her day with him. Nesta’s back was to him as she sat on the bed, hands expertly plaiting her hair into a long loose braid as she recounted her day, asking him about his own as they had come to do as part of their nightly routine since they solidified their mating bond.

He shrugged as he told his wife about his day, tactfully avoiding his plan to reconstruct the obstacle courses that she and the priestesses hated so much, but recounted everything else, including his idea to have Azriel train Wynnie.

He noticed, as he noticed every fluttering eyelash and breath his mate so much as took, the way she tensed up slightly, back still to him before she swung her finished braid over her shoulder and settled into her side of the bed, eyebrow raised questioningly at him.

“What?” He asked immediately, “you don’t think it’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s going to complicate things, that’s for sure.”

“What do you mean?” He frowned, “has she complained to you? Am I being too hard on her?” He asked, suddenly thinking back to his interactions with Eowyn and trying to decipher if she ever expressed any discomfort or displeasure by the training. But damn, it was so hard to tell without being able to see her face properly.

“No, it’s not that,” his mate assured, immediately, knowing her mate well enough to know he’d spiral into a hole and start overthinking his friendship with all the priestesses while he was at it. “It’s just that..” she trailed off slightly, gray eyes turning up to think about her words, “you know… Gwyn hasn’t spoken a word to Azriel since you let it slip that he hated the dagger she gave him-“

“I apologized for that!”

“-yes, but she hasn’t spoken to him for two months. And Azriel has barely even noticed,” she huffed. “But do you know who Az can’t seem to take his eyes off?”

He knew this. Of course, he knew this. He had felt Az’s eyes on them on more than one occasion, and he knew well that his brother seemed to have a thing for unattainable and uninterested females.

He only frowned, not needing to answer.

“And Gwyn has noticed. Of course she’s noticed, she watches him like a hawk.”

Cassian settled into bed, pulling his mate into his chest. “You think there’s something going on between Az and Wynnie?” he mumbled to her.

“No,” Nesta said immediately, settling further into the spot between his shoulder and neck that she’d claimed as her own. “Wynnie wouldn’t do that to Gwyn.”

Cassian hummed, mind turning before coming to a decision. “But we can’t meddle in their business, Nes. I think Eowyn would really benefit from more training and I can’t do it myself, otherwise I would.”

“I know,” his mate sighed sleepily, “I’m just saying it’s going to be a proper mess.”

—

After training, a session no less grueling than the rest, but not quite as backbreaking as the obstacle courses they were going to face in the next few months, he called Wynnie over after her daily attempt at cutting the ribbon.

The practice had become a staple in their daily training, and every day the priestesses would stand before the ribbon, swords raised in their preferred manner of combat and would slice the swords down with precision, if not quite the necessary finesse required to cut the ribbon clean off.

“I know, I know, ‘it’s all in the wrist,’” she huffed when she approached them. 

Despite his own suspicions that his brother held a special interest in the young priestess that went beyond a trainer/trainee status, he hadn’t truly considered why until his conversation with his mate the previous night. After his mating bond with Nesta— no, after meeting Nesta, even while she was still human— he hadn’t bothered to look at females in any other way that wasn’t purely platonic or inconsequential. 

He knew Eowyn was a rather pretty fae, of course, even despite the scars she kept well hidden, but he’d never seen her as anything other than his mate’s friend. As his friend.

She was of average height, neither too tall nor too short. Her clothes were no different from the rest of the priestesses, if perhaps only darker tones, and she often wore what he thought were skirts but were only very loose pants that allowed for unrestricted, if only heavier, movements. She also lacked the circlet and stone placed upon the center of the forehead that most, if not all, priestesses wore, even over their face coverings.

He’d seen her face only a handful of times when he "accidentally" walked in on the females having their bi-weekly lunches, and although he couldn’t pinpoint every feature exactly, not wanting to be caught staring at her, he knew she was pretty and had possibly the darkest eyes he’d ever seen.

And perhaps it was that. Her eyes. So dark and expressive and full of knowing that had his brother in a trance, for when she approached Cassian and Azriel wearing only a mask-like covering over only the bottom half of her face— her eyes shining bright from the exercise and dark hair pulled away into two braids down her back, a few stray hairs rebelling against their captivity, his brother only stared and didn’t say. A single. Word.

“So, what do you usually do after practice?” Cassian asked casually, feeling the need to ease them into a conversation that truly shouldn’t be all that difficult to have.

She gave him a weird look, one eyebrow raising slightly, “Unless I’m needed at the library, I like to go to the greenhouse while the sun is still out and tend to the plants. Then I go back to the library and work,” she looked at him questioningly, “why?”

“How would you feel about a little extra training?”

She snorted, “you’re kidding, right?”

“I’m not,” he said seriously, glancing at his brother from the corner of his eye to see if he had anything to add, but his brother’s gaze only remained fixed on the young priestess, taking in the unfamiliar sight of her dark hair. “We think you could really benefit from a few extra hours of one-on-one training and-“

“Am I doing that badly?” she asked, eyebrows furrowing, “I thought this was all just to create a routine. To destress and gain strength and all that.”

“It is” he assured immediately, “and on the contrary, you’re doing great. We can see how hard you’re working and all the effort you put in, and we just wanted to offer you some—“

“You come back to the ring sometimes. At night, when everyone’s in bed,” Azriel spoke up, if perhaps a bit softer than was normal for him. “Do you have trouble sleeping?”

If she was surprised that he knew about her late night prowling, she didn’t show it. Her dark shrewd eyes scanned his face before meeting his eyes. “Sometimes,” she replied in the same tone.

“This could help you with that, if our group training isn’t enough,” Cassian added.

She considered their words for a few seconds and crossed her arms over her chest, finally nodding slowly. “How would it work? I just stay here and train with you both for another hour or..?”

“Well, it would just be Az, mostly. Maybe if I get a day off, I could stop by for a bit” Cassian clarified, “and we can work around whatever routine works best for you. If you’re needed at the library on any day, you can just let us know and we’ll figure something out.”

“To start, would you be willing to stay for another two hours, maybe three times a week?” Azriel asked.

She considered it for a second and then sighed, “alright. I can’t say I’m looking forward to getting my ass handed to me by the Lord of Shadows, but that should work out fine.”

Cassian snorted a laugh, glancing over at his brother to see his lip barely twitch in amusement and his ears turn red. Lord of Shadows, huh? Maybe not so unattainable and uninterested, after all.

“We start tomorrow,” Azriel said, a smile barely grazing his lips, hazel eyes shining bright.

part five

disclaimer: image is not mine. i found it on pinterest :D

taglist: @lilah-asteria @a-courtof-azriel @honk4emoboyz @feyretopia @mrsjna @buttermilktea11 @bravo-delta-eccho

[smilingformoney]

Sharing Part IX | Eli/Reader

Summary: Eli reminds you who's who when you accidentally say the wrong name.

Read now on Ao3 or below the cut:

Although you were missing Lionel already, you were excited to see Eli again after six months away from him. Your flight landed quite late at night, so when the taxi pulled up at your house and you lugged your suitcase to the front door, the lights were already off, and Eli undoubtedly asleep.

You were exhausted after such a long flight, and you’d not slept on the plane in an effort to stave off jet lag, so as soon as the door closed behind you, you left your suitcase in the hall and zombie-walked to the bedroom, pausing only to strip down to your underwear, then climbed into bed and promptly fell asleep.

When Eli woke up, he forgot momentarily that you were due back, and his grumpiness at being woken by his alarm was mitigated when he rolled onto his back and found a gorgeous woman sleeping next to him.

He smiled smugly and wrapped an arm around your waist. You instinctively backed up into him, and his morning wood pressed into your ass. God, he’d missed this. Letting a grad student blow him for a good grade was fine, but no one could get him aroused like you could.

You were still asleep, but Eli had no intention of letting that stop him. He pawed lazily at your breast, his cock grinding against your ass in an effort to get a bit of relief. For six months he’d been jerking off in the morning, using the sexy pics you’d sent him to spur himself on, but now he had the real thing, and boy was he gonna enjoy it.

Hoping to wake you up, Eli pinched your nipple, and you let out a squeak. He grinned.

Your eyes were still closed, but Eli saw you smile, and he knew you were awake. He pinched you again, and you sleepily tried to bat his hand away. Eli let go of your nipple and took your breast in his hand instead, massaging it as he savoured the feeling of having his hand full of your tits again.

You stirred a little more. That’s it, Eli thought. Wake up and let me fuck you, [Y/n]…

“Lionel…”

Eli froze.

“You did not just fucking say that.”

Your eyes opened then and darted around, your brow furrowed in confusion, then landed on him and you smiled as you recognised him.

“Mmm, Eli… I forgot I’d come back…”

 “Yeah, you clearly fucking did.”

He rolled on top of you, pinning you face-down into the mattress, and you grunted as he winded you slightly.

“You’re not with your rich lover boy now, slut. You’re back with the boring old Chemistry professor. Sorry to disappoint.”

“‘M sorry, I’m still half asleep,” you mumbled against the pillow.

Eli slapped your ass, and you let out a yelp.

“That wake you up? This is Eli, by the way.”

“Shut up, I know who you are. C’mon, babe, lemme see you properly —” 

You tried to roll onto your back, but Eli dropped his entire weight on you, leaving you squashed between him and the mattress, your face only just turned to the side enough to breathe.

“I was so looking forward to a nice morning embrace with my girlfriend after not seeing her for six months, but I guess I gotta fuck some sense into you first, huh?”

You scoffed. “Like you weren’t gonna fuck me anyway.”

“I don’t need you to get off,” Eli snarled, knowing full well it was a lie. He squeezed your ass, feeling for bruises Lionel might have left behind, and slapped you again when he found a nice tender spot.

“What, you’d rather your hand than me? I doubt that,” you teased, getting more and more frustrated by the second that he wouldn’t let you turn over to see him properly. You hadn’t even kissed him yet!

“Mmm, or a grad student’s mouth. They don’t say another man’s name when my cock’s in their throats.”

You grunted in surprise when he took hold of your thighs and spread them apart, giving himself plenty of room to get between your legs. He released one thigh to free his hand to shove between your legs, fingers diving greedily into your warmth, and he laughed at you when he felt that you were wet already, easily letting him slide his digits in and out of your cunt.

“Don’t - don’t exaggerate, Eli,” you grunted, trying not to give away how his aggressive fingering was already driving you crazy. “Those girls don’t know how to open their throats wide enough to get your stupid cock in there.”

“Mhm, that’s true. Only a slutty throat like yours can take me all the way. When did Lionel last blow his load down there, huh?”

“In the - in the car on the way to the airport.”

Eli scoffed. “Of course. Bye, honey, I love you - by the way, can I get one last blowjob?”

He curled his fingers inside you, and you squealed, your legs twitching involuntarily.

“Right, that’s enough pretending I give a shit about foreplay. I gotta get my dick in that cunt.”

Eli grabbed your hips and pulled, forcing your ass in the air. He finally got a good look at it, Lionel’s bruises fading now but ready to be replaced by his. Your asshole stared at him teasingly, but he decided to leave that for when he had time to fuck you for as long as he wanted. Right now, he had to get to his lecture soon, so he dove straight into your pussy, his cock sliding in as easily as if it had never left.

“Mhm, Eli…” you groaned, and he smirked with satisfaction.

“That’s it — you know whose cock is whose, huh?”

“Oh, I can tell when it’s your cock, babe. Yours is bigger.”

Eli lowered himself over you, and you could feel his breath against your ear.

“You just saying that to butter me up, sweetheart? ‘Cus I don’t appreciate being lied to, you know that.”

“Nah, it’s true. Lionel’s fucking big, but you’re bigger. Now, you gonna put that massive cock to good use or not?”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

Fuck, he felt good. His balls slapped against your clit with each thrust, and there was something about the frustrated, aggressive way he fucked you that went straight to your core. His fingers dug into your hips as he held you tight, as if worried you’d try to slip away.

“God, I fucking missed this. Did you miss me?” Eli panted.

“You know I did, Daddy. Missed - missed your cock so much - fuck, yes, Eli…”

“Good girl. Now you know who you’re with, huh? You know just whose cock is in your tight cunt.”

“Mhm, Eli, Eli…” you mumbled, your brain filled with nothing but him, the pleasure he was giving you, and the sound of his desperate pants as he fucked you harder.

“I hope Lionel didn’t fuck the respect out of you, slut,” Eli said between grunts. “I am a doctor, you know.”

“So am I!” you insisted, but Eli just wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing slightly, just enough to make you gag.

“And yet you surrender to me so easily, Dr [L/n]. You should be fucking grateful that you get to fuck me. I’m a Nobel Laureate - best mind in my field, don’t you know? So you’d better treat me with some fucking - respect - fuck, that’s it, squeeze my cock - milk me dry —”

“Eli…”

“That’s Dr Michaelson to you, slut. Call me by my proper title and I might let you cum.”

You might be a brat, but he knew you couldn’t resist an order when you were so close to orgasm, and all your impertinence fell away when he had you on the edge.

“Oh fuck, yes - yes, that feels so good - oh, Dr Michaelson - please —”

You wished you could see his face. He always looked so deliciously deranged when he was fucking you this furiously, every inch of his face etched with a mixture of anger and pleasure. Instead, you made do with feeling his skin against yours, his cock thrusting inside you, and the sound of his desperate grunts.

“Who’s in charge here? Huh?”

“You are,” you whined. You could feel your orgasm building, but you knew he wouldn’t give it to you until he was satisfied he’d fully reminded you of your place. “You’re in charge, Daddy. I’m all - all yours - fuck, Eli, please, I gotta cum!”

“Dr Michaelson,” Eli growled in your ear, and you groaned in frustration.

“Dr Michaelson, please, let me cum. I need - need to cum - need to milk your cock dry, please…”

Eli chuckled derisively.

“Such a desperate little slut. Alright, then. Show me how well you can milk me, Dr [L/n].”

He reached around your waist to flick his finger against your clit, and it was mere moments before you were cumming around his cock, crying out with pleasure into the pillow, and it was only when he was sure you’d ridden the aftershock of your orgasm that Eli let himself go, his hips slamming into yours with one final thrust as he groaned, his cock filling you up with his seed as he finally reached the climax he could only get with you.

Panting, Eli pulled out of you and rolled onto his back. You were relieved to finally be able to move, but even more relieved to be able to turn to him and look at him properly.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous,” you said as you looked up at him, and you meant it. His hair was a mess, his brow was dripping with sweat, and he looked exhausted. And it was fucking glorious.

Eli put an arm around you and held you close, his eyes closed as he caught his breath. He opened them and looked down at you, and grinned when he saw that you were just as sweaty and exhausted as he was.

“Mhm, I must be, ‘cus you’re gorgeous and I’m fucking you.”

“I missed you,” you purred, nuzzling his neck. You heard him chuckle and he wrapped his arms securely around you.

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of your head. “God, I wanna cancel today’s lectures. Maybe I’ll just stay here and fuck you all day instead.”

“And deprive your students of the wisdom of the great Dr Michaelson? You wouldn’t dare,” you teased, looking up at him with a mischievous look in your eye. “Besides - I gotta get to the faculty meeting this afternoon to discuss next semester. Otherwise I would gladly stay here and fuck all day.”

“How ‘bout we get takeout tonight? Rent a movie and not watch it while you suck me off.”

“God, that sounds like Heaven,” you said with a dreamy smile. You kissed his shoulder, then rolled onto your back to let him up.

Groaning his protestations at having to get up, Eli rolled out of bed and trudged into the bathroom. You, meanwhile, not having any obligations until the afternoon, stayed in bed, your face pressed into Eli’s pillow. You smiled as the scent of him filled your nostrils.

Eli emerged from the bathroom to get dressed and had to resist every instinct in his body that was screaming at him to get back in bed with you. You were so tempting lying there, a cute little smile on your face as you held his pillow. You were back where you belonged, in his bed, and he was going to make the most of every moment with you over the next six months.

He had to turn away from you to get dressed, otherwise he really would just get back into bed, as much as he loved his job. He loved imparting his knowledge onto the eager students, he loved experimenting in the lab, and he loved it when a desperate student would crawl between his legs and suck him off instead of studying.

That last part would have to go, though. All the girls he was fucking were graduating this year, and he had no desire to be with anyone else when you were around. How you’d managed to control his philandering dick, he had no idea — maybe it was the fact that you let him do it that made it less appealing. Or maybe he’d finally met his match — after all, you hardly ever turned him down when he wanted to initiate. He’d always had a high sex drive, one his ex-wife Sarah had never been able to keep up with, but you were plenty able to keep up with him. Even better, you worked at the same college, so you were pretty much always around for him when he needed you.

If only he’d spent 20 years married to you instead. He’d loved Sarah - even with all the women he’d fucked on the side, she was the only one he’d ever loved - but she was nothing compared to you. He’d do anything for you. Hell, he’d once flown 5,000 miles on a whim because he was terrified of losing you to Lionel Shabandar. He couldn’t say he’d ever have done that for Sarah.

As Eli buttoned up his shirt, he glanced at you in the mirror. From the way you were breathing steadily, he strongly suspected you’d already fallen back asleep.

He smiled to himself. Leaving you in bed while he went to work was torture, but he’d take that every day over waking up without you. Hell, he’d even take leaving you in bed with Lionel if it meant he could wake up next to you at all.

He didn’t want to keep passing you back and forth every six months. He wanted you every day, and if he had to share you with Lionel, he would.

He wanted to marry you.

He knew you’d never agree. Marriage was monogamy, and it was clear you weren’t built for that. Neither was he, and nor was Lionel for that matter. But still, he loved you, and he wanted to call you his wife.

“You’re gonna be late,” your voice mumbled from the pillow.

Eli chuckled.

“I got the best reason to be,” he replied. “Sorry I’m late, class, I was fucking my girlfriend. She just got back from six months of fucking another guy and I had to remind her whose cock is better.”

You snort-laughed, and your phone went off. You rolled over and grabbed it from the spot on the floor you’d thrown it when getting undressed the night before.

“Is that him now?”

You hummed the affirmative, blinking the sleep out of your eyes as you read Lionel’s texts.

Lionel: Did your flight get in okay? You: Yep. Headed home now. Going straight to sleep. 😴 Lionel: I doubt Eli will allow that. You: He’ll be fast asleep by now. I’m sure he’ll say hello in his own way in the morning.

Lionel: Good morning. I’m just about to go to sleep. Everything okay?

You texted your reply:

You: I may have said your name in my sleep… Lionel: Of course you did 😉 I bet Eli loved that. You: I think he’s still pissed at me. Lionel: You can always come back. Clearly you want to.

“I’m going now, if you care,” Eli called from the door.

“Nooo!” you whined, putting your phone down so you could make grabbing motions towards him. “Kisses first!”

Eli rolled his eyes, though he smirked at your eagerness for his attention, and crossed the room to lean down and give you a passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, trying to pull him back into the bed, but he was stronger than you and reluctantly stood his ground.

“I’ll see you later, sweetheart. Love you.”

“Love you too, Eli.”

He gave you one last kiss, gentler this time, then straightened his shirt and made his way out the door before he could succumb to the temptation of staying in bed with you.

Your phone buzzed again.

Lionel: I miss you.

You smiled.

You: I miss you too. Good night ❤️

[observeowl]

Second Chance | Chapter 8 - Life Lessons

Series masterlist

sorry! i haven't been putting the taglist for the last 2 chapters. but you can reach it through the masterlist. hopefully i will remember it from now on.

You woke up about an hour later, sitting peacefully on the bench with Andrew. It was night out, and hardly anyone was walking outside except the few who came out to refill their bottle or take a breather. 

“Are you awake?” You hummed, still not wanting to go back in again despite having an hour's break. “Shouldn’t you at least finish the last half hour of training? I know Clint came out a few times looking for you, even though he didn’t say anything.” 

You stretched your limbs, resigning to the fate that you have to head back in. You used to take this opportunity to see Nat when she came to see Clint each week. You no longer feel the spark of interest you had when you first joined Archery. Now, it’s more of a mandatory thing than something you look forward to every week. 

With a clap of your hands, you stood up from the bench and headed back to range. Clint gave you a silent disappointed look before looking back at others. You ignored him and got back to your position to shoot the last few arrows before everyone called it a day. It was tough for everyone to have such a long training session when the minimum was 2.5 hours. Some come for the whole 5 hours in school, and this was practically twice that. 

He dropped you off at your door and passed you your archery bag. “Have a good night’s rest. I know you’re not staying long tomorrow, and you have a long way back.” You suggested to Andrew to head back to his room for some sleep as you were planning to stay behind to use the gym here tomorrow morning. Andrew has his basketball training session in the afternoon, which he has to get to; otherwise, he would have stayed and waited with you. 

“How are you going to head back though?” 

“I’ll figure something out.” He nodded before saying goodbye to your friends in the same room and left. 

“You two are in your honeymoon phase.” Your friend was stating the fact without any malic when she saw how lovey-dovey you were with him. You didn’t have anything to defend or deny as you knew this was how you and Nat started. Always next to each other, texting one another, until you saw disagreements that were too hard to settle.

“Have you ever been in a relationship?” You asked. She shook her head, and you just smiled. This was what you felt before you fell in love with Nat. Those couples that over-display affection was interesting to you. You never understood why they were always in each other’s space. But ever since with Nat, every little thought brings you back to her. It may not even be something she liked, but you wanted to share everything with her, the little things that made you happy such as seeing a cat on your way to work or a nice dress that you saw someone wearing.

“You’ll understand when you get one.” 

===

In the morning, you woke up in time to have breakfast before seeing Andrew off. You decided that since there were still 3 hours before checkout, you’d pack your bags, leaving out the things you require for your gym session. 

You were slightly self-conscious entering the gym, not because you weren’t confident in your own body, but because you were a gym noob. This was the first time you entered the gym alone, without anyone guiding you. You weren’t sure if you were going to use the equipment correctly or if you were hogging the equipment that someone was planning to use. 

You liked to stand in the corner with your weights, surveying everyone through the mirror. No one was going to use your weights, right? You were using the lightest one available, and most gym goers use the medium to heavy weights or the other machines. But either way, your mind was louder than the music in your ears, and you eventually left the gym after an hour of workout. 

“Didn’t think I'd see you here.” You lift your head to see Natasha looking at you. She was heading to the gym, the one who taught you gym basics. You ignored her and continued making your way to your room. “We have to be around each other, and you can’t keep ignoring me.” That made you stop walking and look around. You didn’t see anyone, so there was no point putting up an act to acknowledge her. 

“Hey, Y/N! You went to the gym too?” Suddenly Maria came out of nowhere, and you just smiled and nodded. “We are about to head to the gym too. Nat needs to get over her hangover, and she’s offering to guide me on what to do.” 

“Have a nice time. I’m sure you’re going to learn a lot.” You turned to leave, but Natasha called you once again.  

“How are you going back? I heard from Clint that Andrew left in the morning.” You had the intense feeling to give her a sarcastic comment, but you held back since Maria was here. 

“I can figure it out. I’ll take a bus or Uber if I feel like I’m rich.” You shrugged your shoulders before finally leaving. 

Your friends were doing their final packing as you entered the room. Since they were staying in the dorm, they were heading back together. You begged them to bring your bow bag with them and place it in the school locker because there was no way you were going to be carrying that heavy ass bag alone. 

As the logistic director of the archery team, you was designated to collect everyone’s keycard to return to the front desk after making sure everyone returned it. The only ones remaining were part of the executive committee. Since everyone was here, they decided to hold a quick meeting regarding the upcoming tournament. For your part, you have to get everything ready for the captain, such as the toolbox and first aid kit. 

This was the first tournament you were going to be participating in. Not exactly the first, but the first in this version of this life. Before this, you used to only head to the tournament to cheer them on, even though it starts really early and is held more than an hour away from your home. 

In actual fact, it has been a long time since you participated in any tournament. The atmosphere of hearing and seeing forty people shoot all at the time was something you were unable to find anywhere else. 

Once everything was settled, everyone was free to leave. Some already had a car and drove here, but they stayed in a different direction than you. Just as you were deciding how you were going to head back, your phone received a message. 

Gave you some money for an Uber back home :) 

It was Andrew. Before you could reply, he sent another message. 

I know you can well afford this, but you don’t have to save money every way you can. Plus, I want you to have a comfortable ride home. 

A smile plastered your face when you read his text. You didn’t think he remembered when you said you were trying to get a head start above everyone else in terms of earning money and getting a job because your parents were significantly older compared to your peer’s parents. As the only child, the burden of taking care of your parents falls on you. As much as they tried preparing for their retirement, the rising cost of living and inflation stresses you out. 

Thanks. How about we meet for lunch? I can pay it back to you then. My treat. 

Sure. I’ll hold you to it.

You picked up your bag, getting ready to leave and say goodbye to the group when Clint came forward to talk to you. You resisted rolling your eyes, not knowing what he was trying to talk to you about. 

“Look, I… you’re improving a lot, and I believe you will do well in the competition. I have never seen someone improve as quickly as you. Someone such as you in the novice section would do very well.” 

“Thank you. But I wouldn’t put too much faith in myself. There are others out there that do amazing as well.” 

“Have a good rest. I know training was tough, especially yesterday.” 

You nodded before giving him a small wave and pointing to the back, suggesting you were leaving this place and the conversation. 

===

A few days later

You brought your family out for lunch since their work gets quieter during the year-end. You brought them to a ramen place your future self found and thought it would be nice to introduce them to if they were still around. It also has a mall nearby to shop around if they like to do so. 

As long as the shop sells spicy ramen, you know what you’re going to order for your father. However, your taste buds and stomach were like children at times, more often choosing to share with your mother as you may not be able to finish the food yourself and not want to waste any. 

“Do you want the corn or pork option?” You asked your mother for her opinion. 

“I don’t mind; either is fine.” 

Such a tough decision. Ultimately, you decided on the ramen that includes corn since you were going to order gyoza as a side dish. 

As you were eating, your phone started receiving a lot of messages. You took a peek at what was happening from your lock screen and noticed it came from Camellia and Diana. They seemed really excited at what they were discussing, so you took a break from eating and checked your phone. 

C: Guys, guys, the results are out!!

D: Really?

C: Yeah, my friend checked hers

D: Ok, ok, I’m going to check.

OMG… I’m so nervous

C: Me too! I totally forgot what was on the test, though. 

You would love to check your results too, but you preferred using your laptop to check instead. And you would like to get your emotions in check before getting your results. This part of the test always freaks you out more than taking the actual test itself. You took a few deep breaths before putting your phone down and resumed eating again. It isn’t uncommon for you to feel irritated after looking at your phone, so your parents don’t think too much about it. 

You’ve always wanted to get those high-cut Converse, and you took this chance on Christmas sales to get one. You could have gotten it after you started working, but you felt it was too casual even though people wore them. You couldn’t lie, you were tempted though, but your morals stopped you. 

You tried different designs of shoes, so while waiting for the store assistant to get one in your size, you went out to tell your father he could wait somewhere else or in a pub, drinking his beer. He isn’t one to shop for a very long time. You got your mother’s opinion as you walked up and down, trying to get comfortable in the shoes. Ultimately, you decided on one and paid for it as your mother texted your father to meet at the car in order to head home. 

Once you get home, you quickly open your laptop and log into your school email account to check for your results. You felt your heart beating out of your chest, and your hands shook as you typed in your details. The more you felt you could do well, the more nervous you were especially since you have gone through one round of this

So, when you saw you only received a B grade for all of your subjects, your body slumped back down on your chair in a daze. You had a hard time registering how badly you did. How was this even possible? 

You really wanted to excel in this life and get rid of always being the average person in the class. But, even with this second chance, you’re stuck with that title; how was this fair? 

A B grade generally isn’t bad, but it is when that’s all you get. Were you only capable of getting a B?

You checked the email one more time before going to the official application and saw the same results. You resigned to fate and closed your laptop after that. 

After seeing the sad news, a nice day out with your family has ended badly. Thankfully your friends weren’t the type to ask to share results, so you flopped onto your bed and went to sleep. 

That was the first time in forever you let a tear slip because of your grade. 

===

“Hey Nat! Have you checked your results?” Clint asked when he realised today’s date. 

“No, is it today?” She pulled out her phone and checked her calendar. 

“Yeah! Hurry up and check it so I can gauge what I got!” He rushed her, giving her his phone with the login page ready for her. Maria, who was having lunch with them, also went to check her results using her phone more peacefully than her friends. 

“What’s the rush? Not like your results will change if I check now or later.” Despite saying that, Nat accepted his phone and checked her results to give her friend peace of mind. It took a while for the page to load, but she got there eventually. Happy with her result, she returned the phone to Clint without saying anything. 

“Holy shit! An A for everything!?” Clint exclaimed when he saw Nat’s results. Nat smirked at his response. She was confident that she was going to ace her exams. Law test was more practical in that sense; whatever she did in her career could be used in the exams. Unlike yours, you specialise more in the audit side, which was not tested.  The diners at the restaurant turned to look at them for a moment when he shouted. “What about you, Maria?” 

“Aced it too.”

“Right, right. So I should do well too, right?” Clint asked tentatively as he logged in with his details. Both women looked at each other sceptically, knowing he was not the brightest student in the class. 

“Well, I don’t know, Clint.” Maria sighed. “Who was the one who had to remind you a test was coming up?” 

“Nat?” 

“Who was the one who had to help you when you were doing your group project?” Maria continued asking. 

“Nat...” 

“Who was the one who had to give you their notes when you weren’t listening in class?” 

“Nat. Okay, okay… I get it. My grades aren’t going to be that good.” Clint grumbled as he waited for the page to load. Nat and Maria crossed their arms and stared at him as they waited. Sensing their stares, Clint turned his body away and shielded his phone from their prying eyes. “Alright, I got it. Not that good, but good enough.” He informed them as he pocketed his phone. 

“You’re not going to tell us what you get?” Maria asked. “How’s that fair? We both told you our results.”

“You told me willingly. I didn’t force it out of you.” Clint defended. 

“I got it.” Nat’s phone displayed Clint’s results, and Maria moved at the speed of lightning to grab it before Clint could even react. 

“How?!?” Clint looked at Nat, feeling betrayed. 

“Do you really want to know?” Nat raised her eyebrow. “I memorised your school ID since I always submitted the work. And your password is so easy to decipher. For the sake of god, find something else.” 

“Maria! That’s enough, give me my phone back.” She decided that it was enough of teasing Clint. “You didn’t do too badly. Just one B and one B+, and three As.”

“But it pales in comparison to the both of you.” 

“Why don’t we invite the others to the bar? Celebrate our results and drown in sorrow that the holiday is ending.” Maria suggested. 

“Alright, let me just text someone.” Maria nodded and went ahead with Clint to the bar they often visited with the group. 

Nat unlocked her phone and was about to press on your contact when she remembered you wanted nothing to do with her. She wanted to know how you were doing. On the surface, you always looked like you were okay with your results, shrugging your shoulders and waving it off, but she knew you cared a lot more and wanted a lot more. In the end, she closed her phone and went to the bar. 

Series masterlist

@queen-of-chaotic-surprises @esposadejoyhuerta @gemz5 @natsxwife

@dyslexic-dreamer @unexpected-character @eternalnight410

@leenasayeed @oh-thats-sad @skz-xii @gay-frogs-dancing-around

@justspance

[redheadspark]

Hiii. Sorry to bother, but do you mind repeating Characters for your september prompt session? And if the answer is no... can I ask for Benedict Bridgerton with #12- Dreamy? Please?☺️

A/N - Hello! Sorry for not getting to this sooner, but I'm so happy I got to write this! I hope you like it!

Walk

Summary - Benedict knows how to love you, even in your dreams

Warnings - Mostly fluff with a hint of angst

It started with flowers floating in your dreams.

Not just any flowers, your favorite.  Beautiful peach-colored roses that bloomed at the perfect time. You loved those flowers, they reminded you of your father when you were very little and he would find them just for you.  The sweet scent they carried brought you peace and tranquility, and the velvet touch along your fingers brought you reality when you were lost in your mind.

You dreamt of those flowers, and it made you smile.

Next, it was your favorite lake, the very lake that was near your summer cottage that your family would go to every June.  It was a lovely lake, with tall grass along the sides, and instant memories of swimming in the waters from dawn until dusk, or until your mother had to drag you out.  You missed that lake as of late, and to dream it was another sign that something was going on in your dreams. 

Or someone, and you knew who it was.

Being ever observant and inquisitive about your life, your husband and soulmate Benedict Bridgerton was willing to “walk” in your dreams.  It wasn’t walking really, it was more like peeking in, like poking his head through a window and seeing on the other side.  It was a cool little trick that soulmates could do: seeing the other’s dreams or tapping into your mind when they were sleeping. It seemed like a childish thing to do, you sharing with other couples that were soulmates how they would see their spouse's dreams and uncover deep dark secrets.  But that was never the case for you and Benedict. 

You were more tight-lipped than your spouse was, not that he would chat about anything and everything if he had the chance.  You were simply an introvert who would prefer to have a small cluster of friends with you then be in a ball with thousands of others.  Benedict seemed to be the opposite: having a big family filled with brothers and sisters and the in-laws that also came with them.  You loved his family, they were nothing but warm and kind to you when you were introduced as his soulmate months before.  Your mother-in-law, Violet Bridgerton, was especially taken with you when she hugged you close.

“You two are simply lovely together, I can tell Benedict will make you very happy!” She said in glee.  And she was indeed right.

Benedict loved making you smile and bringing you happiness, whether it was his flirtatious nature with his word and longing gazes, or the small gifts he would give you since he knew you were not a big fan of massive gifts and huge proclamations of love.  He showed it also through his craft in artistry, the paintings he would gift you on a random day or on your birthday would always make you grin from ear to ear and feel that love again.  He was a wondering soulmate and husband.

Even more when he visited your dreams and saw what was plaguing your mind.

Sometimes it was good and sometimes it was bad, but it was mostly good thanks to Benedict.  You could see the same about Benedict and his own dreams, which were always light and filled with optimism and dreams that he’s had.  He was an amazing artist and was known far and wide for his work, keeping his family close by, and did not lose them at any moment.  And most of all, his marriage to you.  Some of the dreams were worries that he had if he was a good enough son to his mother or a husband to you. If his work was going to be well received or if it was something he should give up.

You woke up and ran to him, hugging him close in your arms after seeing one of those dreams of his insecurities.  He was taken aback at first, but you simply held him and whispered in his ear, “You’re good enough, my darling,”

You could have sworn you felt tears hit your nightgown.  

From then on, both you and Benedict it is a rule to never invade one another’s dreams to the point of annoyance.  Not that either one of you was prone to negative dreams, it was rare really.  If there was a dream questionable, there was room for discussion the following morning.  But that rarely happened, you two were ever open to one another and never left anything out of a conversation.  Benedict helped you blossom and be bold in your opinions and in how you spoke, in return you helped Benedict be calmer in the chaotic times.  

Even in the dire times, Benedict was there for you within your dreams.  Right after you both were married, your father fell ill and passed away within months.  It was a devastating blow to your family, you took the loss very hard since you were very close to your father.  After the funeral, Benedict held you in his arms as you cried yourself to sleep.  Though you were filled with love and comfort thanks to your soulmate, the hole that was left behind because of the absence of your father was still evident.

Yet there was Benedict, in your dream, holding you close and swaying with you as you both danced among the clouds.  

“Thank you, my love,” You thanked him in the dream, seeing him peer down at you and trace your face with his fingers.

“You don’t ever have to thank me for taking care of the love of my life,” He replied in a loving tone.  

Years later and with several dreams already shared, you both were growing as a couple in a new phase of life. Your mother gifted you the summer cottage, something your father wished to do when you were a bit older but your mother figured it was the right time to gift you the small home that was filled to the brim with memories. Benedict whisked you away for one summer, 4 weeks of the pair of you in nature and using the lake for all it’s worth.

9 months later, your son was born.  Affectionally name after your father.  You and Benedict would bring your son to the same cottage every year, making new memories together and always looking forward.  Leaving the past behind.

The End.

[pastelwitchling]

Alex calms Michael's nightmares.

***

Alex was a very light sleeper. Spending so much of his life in the military had left him restless, jolting up in bed at the slightest sound and ready to attack. Except when he woke up one night to rustling bedsheets, it was Michael he found at his side, fidgeting and turning over onto his back, his brows furrowed. Sweat beaded at his forehead despite the chilly night and sleeping completely naked, and his fingers kept clenching and unclenching in the blankets.

Alex sighed, reaching out and gently tracing Michael’s temples with the tips of his fingers, moving down to his jaw. Michael whimpered and turned his head to follow Alex’s touch, even in sleep, and Alex leaned down on his elbow, stretching alongside his husband and turning him onto his side. He wrapped an arm around Michael to keep them facing each other, and used his other hand to rub his temples, his chest, his shoulders – anything to keep part of Michael anchored to the waking world.

He shushed him softly and kissed his lips and swore into the few inches between their mouths, “I’m here, baby. You’re safe here with me.”

After a long few minutes, Michael’s fidgeting ceased. His body turned heavier in the circle of Alex’s arms, his breathing deeper and steadier, and he whimpered under his breath as he nuzzled his chest, seeking his comfort even now.

Alex didn’t go back to sleep. He couldn’t, the insomniac part of his brain too consumed with Michael’s fears and what was haunting him. He knew, of course. He’d already had plenty trouble sleeping before he and Alex had ever gotten together – something they had morbidly connected over – and then even worse trouble after the whole thing with Jones and Alex disappearing into the liminal space.

Sometimes, like he was doing now, Michael would murmur Alex’s name over and over, his grip on Alex’s waist almost painful, imagining him lost again.

“I couldn’t handle it, Alex,” he’d confessed one morning after a particularly bad night. “I wasn’t good about it. I wasn’t smart. If you ever vanished like that again . . .”

Alex clung tighter to Michael as the first rays of dawn peeked in, and buried his face in Michael’s curls when the sun hit him in the eye. He breathed his husband in, content to stay here like this for the next few hours, when Michael stirred.

Groaning, he took one hand off Alex’s waist to rub his eyes, instinctively curling in deeper against him, his hug providing more warmth than the duvet ever could. He sighed deeply and, eyes still closed, pressed a kiss to Alex’s pec before he peeked one eye open and looked up, a content smile tugging at his lips. Alex would do anything for that smile.

Except it dimmed when Michael saw him already awake, the dark circles under his eyes no doubt deeper than usual, and took in the way they were clinging to each other, his nails having already left marks on Alex’s waist. His face fell, and he covered his face with one hand, already retreating.

“Damn it, Alex,” he groaned, “I’m sorry, baby.”

Alex tightened his hold on him, and nuzzled his crown. “I’m not.”

“How bad was it?”

“Not bad at all.”

“Did I break anything?”

Alex smiled into his curls. He couldn’t help it. “Nope.”

Michael ran his fingers over Alex’s ribs, his waist, like he wanted to soothe the bruises he’d left there. “It’s not funny,” he said quietly.

Alex’s smile softened. “You don’t think I hate nights like that? When I know what’s bothering you, but can’t save you from it?” He exhaled deeply. “If I could take your nightmares, Michael, I would.”

“Don’t you dare,” Michael said, wrapping his arms around him. “I don’t want them near you. They can’t have you, Alex.”

Alex wrapped his good leg around Michael’s waist. “If you start apologizing for your nightmares, then I’ll have to start apologizing for mine, and we just don’t have the time for that every morning.”

Michael, despite himself, huffed a chuckle. “You’re such a . . .” His shoulders slumped. “Get some sleep? For me?”

Alex stretched a little, his eyes still burning from a sleepless night, his limbs heavy, but he couldn’t seem to let go of Michael for a second.

“I’m okay,” he said, “I’m not tired.”

Michael saw through the act right away, and moved up in bed until he was the one holding Alex, one hand on the back of his head, in his hair. “Sleep, baby,” he said, the low rumble of his voice immediately making Alex’s eyes flutter. “I’ll take watch this time.”

Alex could hardly resist, not with Michael’s heartbeat right against his ear and Michael’s strong, warm hand on his back, keeping him safe. He hugged his husband back and closed his eyes.

***

I've been in essay research hell this past week, so I'm taking the day sort of off before actually writing it. Wish me luck? 😅

[lila-lou]

✨Rough around the edges - Pt. 2✨

Summary: Jack's day couldn’t have gotten any worse. Exhausted from a grueling shift under the scorching sun, he just wanted to crash at home with some wings and a football game. But his plans for a quiet night were shattered when the racket from his new neighbor echoed through the walls.

Pairing: Jack x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap

Word Count: 5393

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The next morning, you woke up early, still feeling the lingering awkwardness of the night before but determined to smooth things over. After a quick shower, you threw on some comfortable clothes and decided to head down the road to a small bakery you’d spotted the day before. The morning was crisp, and the walk helped clear your head. You picked up a few croissants and donuts, figuring it was a simple, easy way to say thank you to Jack for helping with the bookshelf—even if he had been grumpy about it.

On the walk back, you debated how to leave the bag for him without making it awkward. Maybe just set it by his door and knock? That way, you wouldn’t have to face any more of his sarcastic remarks. Yeah, that seemed like a safe plan.

When you reached your building, you quietly made your way up the stairs, the warm bag of baked goods in hand. Standing in front of Jack’s door, you crouched down, just about to place the bag on the floor, when his door suddenly swung open.

You froze, your eyes darting up, and there was Jack, standing in front of you in nothing but sweatpants. His upper half was completely bare, his muscles still slightly glistening as though he’d just woken up, his hair tousled in a way that somehow made him look even more rugged. His annoyed expression only deepened as he saw you crouched there, the bag in hand, clearly surprised by the sudden confrontation.

For a moment, you both just stared at each other. Jack’s eyes flickered down to the bag in your hands, then back up to your face, his brow furrowed. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, as though he couldn’t quite believe you were standing there in front of him again.

“Seriously?”, he muttered, his voice still thick with sleep. “What are you doing?”.

You stood up quickly, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. “I… I was just, uh…”. You held up the bag awkwardly, your words stumbling. “I got some croissants and donuts, you know, as a thank you. For last night. With the bookshelf”.

Jack raised an eyebrow, still looking unimpressed, but there was a glint of something else behind the annoyance—maybe confusion, or just the fact that he wasn’t expecting to see you standing there first thing in the morning.

He looked from the bag of pastries to your face again, and after a long pause, he finally let out a grunt, running a hand through his messy hair. “You didn’t have to do that”.

“I know”, you said quickly, still holding the bag out toward him. “But I wanted to. Just as a small thank you”.

Jack hesitated for a moment longer before finally reaching out to take the bag from you, his movements slow and deliberate. His fingers brushed against yours for a brief second, and you felt a weird jolt at the unexpected contact. He held the bag like he didn’t quite know what to do with it, as if the gesture was somehow foreign to him.

“Thanks”, he muttered, though his tone was still rough. He shifted uncomfortably, clearly not used to this kind of exchange.

You smiled awkwardly, hoping this would break the ice between the two of you. “No problem. I just… didn’t want you to think I was a total disaster”.

Jack looked at you, one corner of his mouth twitching slightly as if he was trying not to smirk. “Too late for that”, he said dryly, though his voice had softened. “But thanks. I’ll eat these”.

You nodded, trying not to laugh at his bluntness. “Glad to hear”.

Jack stared at you for a few moments, his expression shifting as his brows furrowed even more, as if something had just clicked in his head. He crossed his arms over his bare chest, his muscles tensing slightly, and then, out of nowhere, he asked, “Are you even legal age yet?”. His chin pointed lazily in the direction of your apartment door, a skeptical look on his face.

You blinked, completely caught off guard by the question. Seriously? After everything, now he was questioning your age?

Rolling your eyes, you muttered, “I’m twenty-two, thank you very much”. You crossed your arms, mimicking his stance, though you were half-exasperated at his remark.

Jack raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting your quick reply, and gave a small grunt. “Huh”, was all he said, as if still sizing you up. He seemed to be trying to reconcile the fact that someone as young as you were living alone, fixing up shelves, and—most importantly—dropping off croissants as a thank you.

You could feel the heat rising in your face again, but this time, it wasn’t embarrassment. His constant skepticism was getting under your skin, but at the same time, there was something about the way he talked, the dry humor mixed with genuine curiosity, that made it hard to be fully annoyed.

“Yeah”, you added, letting a smirk slip onto your face despite yourself. “Legal, independent, and perfectly capable of buying my own donuts".

Jack just stood there for a second, as if processing your sarcasm, and then, to your surprise, he let out a small chuckle. It was low and short, but it was there. “Alright, twenty-two”, he said, shaking his head slightly. “Still looks like you could’ve just graduated high school”.

“You really know how to flatter someone”, you replied, your voice thick with sarcasm.

Jack just shrugged, the early morning grogginess fading as he started to wake up more. His gaze lingered on you a little longer this time, his eyes narrowing slightly, but not in annoyance anymore. Now, he was just observing. You were pretty—really pretty, if he was being honest with himself.

But the realization hit him hard. Twenty-two. He was about to turn forty-four. You were literally half his age. The thought settled uncomfortably in his mind, though he tried to shake it off.

"Alright, kid", he said, his voice gruff again, retreating back into the casual distance he preferred. “See ya”.

With that, he stepped inside, closing the door right in front of you without waiting for a response.

You stood there for a moment, blinking at the door that had just shut in your face. Kid? That word echoed in your mind, and you felt a strange mix of annoyance and confusion. He wasn’t wrong about the age gap, but calling you “kid” after everything felt dismissive, almost like he was putting up a barrier between you two. You shook your head and exhaled, trying to brush it off.

It was clear Jack had some walls up. Maybe he wasn’t used to people, especially people younger than him, making any kind of gesture of kindness toward him. And maybe the whole interaction with him shirtless in the morning had thrown him off just as much as it had thrown you off.

You turned and headed back to your apartment, thinking about the strange dynamic between you and Jack. Grumpy, yes. But there was something else there. Something guarded.

As you closed your own door behind you, you couldn’t help but wonder what Jack was like beyond the tough exterior.

A week had passed, and it had been even worse for Jack than the last one. His days were long, the heat relentless, and his body ached from the grueling physical labor. He was counting down the days to his time off—just two more weeks. Two weeks until he could finally take a break, sleep in, and forget about the stress of his job for a while. But for now, he just had to survive the grind.

Oddly enough, he hadn’t seen you since that morning when you’d left him the croissants and donuts. You’d been quiet, which he appreciated. No more hammering, no more disasters coming from across the hall. But there was a tiny part of him that had occasionally wondered what you were up to.

Right now, though, there wasn’t much time to think about anything other than the job. The afternoon sun beat down on Jack and his crew as they worked on the roof of a building they were constructing. He and Anthony were just placing the last few beams on the roof’s framework. Jack’s muscles strained as he lifted another beam into place, sweat rolling down his back, his shirt sticking to him.

Anthony grunted as he helped steady the beam. “Man, I’m ready for a beer after this”, he muttered, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

“Yeah, no kidding”, Jack replied, his voice rough from the heat and exhaustion. “Two more weeks of this shit, and then I’m off for a while”.

Anthony let out a low whistle. “Lucky bastard. I’ve got another month before I get any real time off”.

Jack just grunted in response, focusing on securing the beam. His mind drifted as they worked, thinking about the small, simple things that were keeping him going: cold beer, quiet nights, and maybe catching a game or two. He wasn’t a complicated man; he didn’t need much. Just peace.

As they secured the final beam, Anthony gave it a satisfied pat. “There we go. Done for the day”.

Jack wiped his hands on his jeans and glanced around, feeling the familiar sense of relief that came with finishing a hard day’s work. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm orange glow over the construction site.

“You heading out after this?”, Anthony asked, stretching his back.

“Yeah”, Jack replied. “Just gonna grab a shower and maybe head to the bar later”.

Anthony raised an eyebrow. “You ever bring a date to the bar, or is it just you and a couple beers, like usual?”.

Jack shot him a sideways glance. “Not in the mood for company lately”.

Anthony smirked. “Still? Man, you’ve been single too long”.

Jack shrugged. “I like it that way”.

Anthony chuckled but didn’t push the subject any further. As they packed up their tools, Jack found his thoughts drifting back to you, just for a moment. He wondered why you had been so quiet lately, and then quickly brushed the thought aside. None of his business, he reminded himself. You were probably just living your life, and he had his own to deal with.

Later that evening, Jack, Anthony, and a few other colleagues met at their usual bar, a dimly lit dive with a worn-out charm. They sat at their usual spot, a round table tucked into the corner where they could relax after a long week. Beers in hand, the group laughed and traded stories, trying to shake off the stress of the day.

An hour in, Jack was halfway through his second beer, quietly listening as Ben told a story about some mishap on the job site. Just as Jack was about to take another swig, Anthony nudged him sharply in the ribs.

“Eh, look over there”, Anthony said, smirking mischievously. “A younger version of Samantha”.

Jack’s brow furrowed as he followed Anthony’s gaze. Samantha had been out of his life for a while now, and he wasn’t exactly eager for any reminders. But when his eyes landed on the group near the bar, he froze.

There you were.

Standing with two other women, slightly dressed up but not over the top. Your outfit hugged your figure just right, your hair styled in a way that made you look effortlessly put together, and the confidence with which you carried yourself drew his attention. Jack blinked, a bit taken aback. You were laughing with your friends, completely unaware of his presence, and it hit him.

Jack’s jaw tightened as he continued to stare at you, the resemblance to his ex-wife, Samantha, undeniable—but also maddeningly different. You were younger, sure, but there was something else that set you apart. You weren’t just a mirror image of Samantha from years ago—you were prettier, more effortlessly captivating. The way you carried yourself, relaxed and laughing with your friends, was light years away from the strained, complicated relationship he’d had with his ex. Samantha always had a tension about her, like she was waiting for something to go wrong. But you… you looked carefree.

It was unsettling, and Jack hated that he even noticed.

Anthony, still watching Jack’s reaction, chuckled and leaned in. “Man, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were having a flashback to better days. But she’s got that young energy, huh? Way different from Samantha”.

Jack clenched his beer tighter, trying to keep his face neutral. He didn’t want to give Anthony the satisfaction of knowing how much the resemblance rattled him. “Drop it, Anthony”, he muttered, taking another long swig from his beer and feeling the tension creeping up his spine.

He could still feel Anthony’s gaze on him, the teasing grin plastered across his face, waiting for Jack to break. Finally, Jack muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Anthony to hear, “She’s my new neighbor”.

Anthony’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, a slow grin spreading across his face. “No shit?”, he said, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying this new piece of information. “Your new neighbor, huh? Well, that just got interesting”.

Jack shot him a warning look. “Don’t even start”.

But Anthony, of course, wasn’t one to let things go so easily. “I mean, come on, man. She’s hot. And right across the hall? That’s convenient”.

Jack shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. He didn’t like the direction the conversation was heading, especially with how complicated his thoughts about you had become since seeing you tonight. “She’s too young”, Jack grumbled, trying to shut down the conversation. “Way too young”.

Anthony snorted, taking a sip of his beer. “Yeah, she’s young, but legal if she’s here".

Anthony grinned, leaning in closer to Jack, clearly relishing the chance to stir the pot. “Look, man, I’m not saying you should marry her, but you seriously need to get laid. You’ve been walking around like a grumpy old man for months now. Maybe a little ‘neighborly connection’ is exactly what you need”.

Jack shot him another glare, but it lacked the bite it usually did. He was already worn out from the long week, and Anthony’s relentless teasing was only adding to his frustration. “I’m not getting into any of that”, Jack grumbled. “Especially not with someone that young”.

Anthony laughed again, clearly enjoying himself. “Come on, man, it’s not like you’re a hundred years old. You’re in good shape, and hell, you’re just across the hall. Perfect setup for something casual. And trust me, she looks like she could use a good time, too. She’s been in there quietly, right? Bet she’s bored out of her mind”.

“She’s just a kid, practically”, he muttered, though even as the words left his mouth, he knew they sounded weak. You weren’t a kid—you were twenty-two, an adult. But the age gap, the differences in life experience… it all felt like a bad idea to him.

Anthony shook his head, grinning like the devil on Jack’s shoulder. “Dude, you’re talking like a grandpa. You’re forty-four, not dead. If she’s hot, she’s interested, and you’re both adults… What’s the harm?“.

Jack shook his head, muttering under his breath, “She probably has a boyfriend anyway. And even if she didn’t, there’s no way I’m getting involved. I’m not that guy”.

Anthony rolled his eyes, clearly not swayed by Jack’s reasoning. “Boyfriend? You sure about that? I don’t see a guy around her tonight, do you?”. He gestured toward you with a casual wave of his beer.

Jack rolled his eyes, clearly fed up with the conversation, and mumbled, “Yeah, whatever. I’m going to take a piss”. He stood up from the table, pushing his chair back a little harder than necessary as he made his way toward the restroom, trying to escape Anthony’s relentless teasing.

As he walked away, he could feel Anthony’s grin burning into his back. The whole conversation was irritating, but what was bothering him more was the fact that Anthony wasn’t completely wrong. Jack hated that his mind kept wandering back to you. It was the last thing he needed—to be thinking about his neighbor in a way that would only complicate things.

Reaching the restroom, Jack splashed cold water on his face after handling his business, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Forty-four. The lines on his face were deeper than they used to be, but he was still in good shape, and he knew it. But that didn’t change the fact that you were too young, too different. He wasn’t about to get involved in something that could end badly.

“Get it together, Jack”, he muttered to himself before drying his hands and heading back out.

Just as Jack stepped out of the restroom, still mentally shaking off the conversation with Anthony, he collided with someone. His hands instinctively went up to steady himself—and you.

It was you.

You had been walking by, not paying much attention as you laughed about something one of your friends had said. The sudden impact caught both of you off guard, and you stumbled slightly before Jack’s firm grip steadied you.

“Whoa, sorry”, you said quickly, blinking up at him. It took a split second for the recognition to set in, and then your eyes widened. “Jack?”.

For a moment, Jack froze, his brain not quite catching up with the fact that you were standing right in front of him. It was one thing seeing you across the bar, but this? This was too close, too personal. The scent of your perfume mixed with the warmth of your skin made his pulse quicken in a way that unsettled him.

“Yeah… it’s me”, he muttered, his voice gruffer than he intended as he let go of your arms, stepping back a little. He cleared his throat, his usual composure slipping.

You smiled, completely unaware of the storm brewing in his head. “I didn’t expect to see you here”.

Jack shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to act nonchalant. “Same goes for you”.

You smiled again, your expression easy and carefree, while Jack fought to keep his usual gruff exterior intact. The bar felt smaller now, more suffocating, with you standing there so casually in front of him. Jack was suddenly hyper-aware of every detail—how the soft light from the bar highlighted your features, how the scent of your perfume lingered in the air between you two, and how unprepared he was to be dealing with this moment.

"Yeah", you said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "It's my first time here, actually. Just wanted a chill night with the girls".

Jack nodded, still trying to figure out what to say that wouldn’t sound awkward. “It’s a good spot. Been coming here with the guys for years”.

You glanced back toward your friends for a moment, then turned to face Jack again, your smile softening a bit. "Well, it’s nice running into you. You’re usually so… quiet in the building".

Jack huffed a small laugh, though it was more to cover his discomfort than anything. "Yeah, I keep to myself mostly".

There was another brief pause, and Jack couldn’t help but notice how easily you seemed to talk to him—like there was no tension, no awkwardness on your end. For you, it was just a casual run-in with a neighbor. For him, it felt like the ground was shifting beneath him.

“So, what are you doing here? Out with friends?”, you asked, tilting your head slightly, genuinely curious.

Jack shrugged. “Yeah, just with some of the guys from work”.

You nodded, looking over toward the direction of his table, and when you spotted Anthony watching the two of you with that ever-present smirk, you chuckled. “Looks like your friend is enjoying this”.

Jack followed your gaze, and sure enough, Anthony was still grinning like an idiot. Jack let out an exasperated sigh. “Ignore him. He’s been running his mouth all night”.

You laughed softly, a sound that made something twist inside Jack. “Well, I won’t keep you. Just wanted to say hi”. You gave him a small wave, a little flicker of warmth in your smile as you stepped towards the toilet.

Jack nodded, still standing there awkwardly. “Yeah. See you around”.

As you walked away, Jack stood there for a moment longer, watching you go, trying to process the strange mix of emotions that had taken root.

Finally, he turned and walked back to his table, where Anthony was grinning wider than ever.

“So”, Anthony began, clearly eager to tease, “did you ask for her number, or are you still pretending you’re not interested?”.

Jack groaned, sitting down and taking a long sip of his beer. “Anthony, I swear, if you don’t shut up—”.

But Anthony just laughed, clapping Jack on the back. “Relax, man. I’m just saying, you could do a lot worse than your hot new neighbor”.

Jack scowled, though his heart was still racing from the brief encounter. He hated to admit it, but Anthony had a point.

As the evening dragged on, despite Jack’s best efforts, he couldn’t help but steal glances in your direction. Every time you laughed, there was a brightness in your eyes that tugged at something deep inside him, something he’d long buried. It was a carefree, youthful spark that he hadn’t felt in his own life in years, and he found himself drawn to it, even as he tried to keep his distance. A couple of times, your eyes met his, and each time, Jack quickly looked away, hoping you hadn’t noticed the stolen glances.

By the time the night had worn on to 1 a.m., much later than Jack had planned to stay out, he decided it was time to call it. His body was tired, and the thoughts swirling in his head weren’t helping. Grabbing his phone and car keys from the table, he knocked lightly on the surface, signaling his goodbye to Anthony and the rest of the crew.

“Alright, I’m heading out”, Jack mumbled, half-expecting some teasing comment from Anthony, but the guy just gave him a lazy wave.

“Take it easy, man”, Anthony replied, clearly deep into his drinks.

Jack nodded and made his way toward the exit, the cold night air hitting him as soon as he stepped outside. As he adjusted his jacket, he spotted you almost immediately.

There you were, standing just off to the side, arms crossed over your chest as you looked to the right and left, your eyes slightly glassy from the booze. You were shivering slightly, your short dress doing little to keep the chill off, and it didn’t take much for Jack to realize you were alone, waiting on a cab.

He hesitated for a moment, watching you from a distance. Part of him wanted to walk straight to his truck, drive home, and forget about the whole night. But the sight of you standing there, vulnerable and cold, stirred something in him. He wasn’t the type to just leave someone like that, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

With a sigh, he walked over to where you stood, his footsteps quiet against the pavement. As he got closer, you noticed him, your expression flickering from surprise to recognition.

“Hey”, Jack said, his voice low but steady. “You alright? You waiting on a ride?”.

You nodded, your arms tightening around yourself as you tried to ward off the cold. “Yeah, I’ve been waiting for a cab, but… it’s taking forever”.

Jack glanced around the empty street. The night was quiet, save for the occasional car passing by in the distance, and it was obvious that the wait for a cab could stretch on for a while.

“You want a lift?”, Jack asked, trying to sound casual, though his voice came out a little more gruff than he intended. “I’m heading home anyway”.

You blinked, a little surprised by the offer. “Oh, I don’t want to be a bother…”.

“It’s no trouble”, Jack cut in, shifting his weight. “Better than standing out here in the cold”.

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes searching his face as if weighing whether or not to take him up on it. Finally, you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Okay, thanks. I appreciate it”.

Jack gestured toward his truck, parked a little ways down the street, and you followed him, still hugging your arms for warmth. The air between you two was quiet, the sounds of the bar fading as you both walked to his vehicle. Jack unlocked the door, opening the passenger side for you, and you slipped in gratefully, rubbing your arms as the warmth from the car’s heater started to kick in.

As Jack settled into the driver’s seat, he glanced over at you, a mix of emotions swirling in his chest. He didn’t know why, but something about this moment—about you sitting next to him—felt heavier than he expected. Like there was more to this ride than just a simple favor.

Jack quietly turned on the seat heater for you, not saying much as the truck rumbled to life. The warmth slowly began to fill the cab, cutting through the cold that had settled over both of you outside. For a few minutes, the silence between you was thick but not uncomfortable—more like two people processing the unexpected moment they found themselves in. Jack kept his eyes on the road, his hands steady on the wheel, but his mind was anything but calm. Having you there, so close, stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in a long time.

After a while, you cleared your throat softly, as if testing the waters for conversation. “So… are you married? Got kids?”, you asked, your voice casual but curious, clearly trying to fill the quiet.

Jack’s grip on the steering wheel tightened for a split second, his mind flashing back to a time when those words didn’t sting so much. He let out a slow breath, his voice low and a little rougher than before. “Nah, no wife, no kids. Not anymore, at least”.

You tilted your head, sensing something behind his tone. “Not anymore?”, you echoed softly, not pushing too hard but leaving the question hanging there.

Jack hesitated, wondering how much he should say. It wasn’t exactly a light topic to get into, especially on a late-night ride home. But something about the darkness, the quiet hum of the truck, and maybe even the fact that you were his neighbor, made him feel like he could let his guard down just a little.

“I was married”, Jack admitted, keeping his eyes on the road. “For a while. No kids, though. Didn’t work out”.

You glanced at him, your curiosity evident, but there was no judgment in your eyes. “I’m sorry”, you said softly, your voice sincere.

Jack shrugged, but the weight of his past was still there in his voice. “It’s been a long time. Just… didn’t expect it to go the way it did”.

He didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t press, sensing that the subject was a tender one. Instead, you nodded quietly, letting the moment sit between you for a while longer. The truck rolled smoothly along the quiet streets, the heater doing its job as the warmth began to spread through the seat, easing the chill in your body.

Trying to shift the mood, you offered a small smile. “Do you ever plan to settle down again?”.

Jack let out a quiet, dry chuckle, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “Not sure that’s in the cards for me anymore. I’m not exactly great at relationships”.

You laughed softly in response, the mood lightening a bit. “I think a lot of people feel that way these days. It’s not easy”.

Jack glanced over at you, appreciating the fact that you weren’t prying, that you seemed to understand without pushing him too far.

“What about you?”, Jack asked, surprising even himself with the sudden question. He hesitated for a second before adding, “The guy from that picture in your apartment? Is that the one?”.

You blinked, taken aback by the directness of his question, but you understood what he meant. The picture of you with your ex, the one Jack had noticed the first night he helped with the bookshelf. You let out a small sigh and shook your head, a mix of sadness and relief in your voice.

“Yeah… that… was him”, you admitted, your tone soft but resolute. “We were together for a while, but it didn’t work out either. Turns out he wasn’t exactly… loyal”.

Jack’s grip on the steering wheel tightened again, the familiar sting of betrayal hitting a nerve. He understood that feeling all too well. “That’s rough”, he muttered, glancing at you for a brief second before turning back to the road. “Sorry you had to go through that”.

You shrugged, though there was a hint of bitterness beneath your calm exterior. “Yeah, well… it happens, I guess. That’s why I moved here. Needed to start over somewhere new”.

Jack nodded in understanding, the weight of shared experiences creating an unspoken bond between the two of you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the truck filling the silence again.

After a beat, Jack spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “It gets easier… eventually”.

You glanced over at him, sensing that he was speaking from his own pain. “Yeah”, you replied softly. “I hope so”.

Jack gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “Just takes time”.

As the truck rolled on, you found yourself feeling a strange sense of comfort being around Jack. Despite his gruff exterior, there was something genuine about him—something steady that you hadn’t realized you’d been craving. The conversation shifted something between the two of you, a small crack in the walls each of you had built to protect yourselves from the world.

The rest of the drive passed by in quiet, comfortable companionship.

Eventually, Jack pulled into his usual parking spot outside your shared building. The truck came to a slow stop, the hum of the engine fading into the quiet night. You both sat there for a moment, neither of you in a rush to break the comfortable silence that had settled between you.

Jack glanced at you as you began to unbuckle your seatbelt, the warmth from the conversation still lingering in the air. He wasn’t sure why, but something about the evening felt different, like a line had been crossed without either of you realizing it. Not in a bad way, but in a way that shifted the dynamic between you, making things a little less distant, a little more real.

You turned to him with a soft smile, your eyes still carrying that spark of gratitude. “Thanks again, Jack. For the ride and… well, for the talk”.

Jack gave a brief nod, his usual gruffness slipping just a little.

As you reached for the door handle, Jack hesitated for a moment, then spoke before he could stop himself. “Hey”.

You paused, glancing back at him. “Yeah?”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 48 (He Had Him At Hello, Bromance Edition)

Leaving her friends in Old New Henford after dark, Heather, Ash, and Conrad returned to her childhood home with her parents.

They found River and Cassandra still in their work clothes, the two having spent most of the evening trying to get their infant son to sleep. "Doctor Scott says its a phase, it'll pass, but when he doesn't sleep well, we don't sleep well," lamented River. "These days we're thrilled if he sleeps for more than two hours at a time."

Conrad already felt at ease around her siblings, and Heather left them chatting upstairs while her parents showed her the new plants in their always impressive garden. When Michael woke up fussy, she soothed him back to sleep to give his tired parents a break.

Upstairs, River studied Conrad with keen interest. His sister's taste in men had always been a little...off, and he wanted to be sure this one deserved her. "Driving between San Myshuno and Brindleton Bay must not be easy."

"We make it work," said Conrad. "We're waiting for me to get a transfer, but all that driving can be pretty tiring."

"Sometimes I dance just to keep myself awake," said Cass, grooving a little to the music. "Since I left the art studio to help my mother-in-law with her floral business, it's been a bit easier working from home. I never realized the artistry involved in floral arranging, but I can be just as creative with a bouquet of flowers as I can with a palette of acrylics!"

Conrad couldn't relate, but he empathized with their lack of sleep. "I don't know much about raising kids, but Ash likes a story I tell him that my mom used to read to me when I was a kid. The Giving Tree."

"I love that story," Cassandra mused. "I think I saw a copy at the bookstore in the square."

River nodded. "I'll try anything. I'll pick up a copy tomorrow." Despite his fatigue, River's wall crumbled as he got to know Conrad. "What made you think our sister was worth risking your career?"

The question was sincere. Conrad had asked himself the same thing a thousand times. "At first I thought it was because her son needed her more than the Landgraabs needed a win, but then they dropped the charges and I couldn't stop thinking about her. I booked a vet appointment four hours out of the way just to run into her again."

"Why didn't you ask her out, then?"

"River, stop interrogating him," Hazel pushed, but Conrad smiled.

"I wanted to, but I knew she'd been through a lot and I wanted her to be sure she was ready. I sort of knew it would be it for me if I knew she was interested."

"It's a good thing Holly intervened," said Hazel, smiling. "You might still be waiting for her, otherwise."

River grinned. "He definitely would be."

Hazel left to meet Nicola and some friends at the Gnome's Arms, and River and Cassandra finally changed and sat down to dinner. Because they could know no peace, Ash talked their ear off about dinosaurs. "Conerd say t-rex no swim, we safe," he babbled. "T-rex roar!"

"You know there were less scary dinosaurs," River said. "Smaller ones who ate plants. Also big ones. Like brontosaurus."

Ash listened with intense curiosity. "Bront-so-us?"

"Yeah, they were even bigger than your dad's apartment."

Cassandra stifled a laugh. "River, hush."

They were interrupted when Michael woke again from his nap, wailing from the bedroom. With her plate still full of food, Cass left to tend to her son as Heather walked into the kitchen. "We should probably head out. It'll still be an hour on the Simmerloop at this time of night, and we should get Ash to bed before midnight."

Cassandra brought Michael outside for their goodbyes, but the fussy infant didn't last long in the cool autumn air.

River, meanwhile, had found a new best friend in Conrad. "When I found out my sister was dating a cop I wasn't sure what to think, but now I'm pretty confident you've never played bad cop in your life."

Conrad shrugged. "I mean, I don't see the point. It doesn't get me to the truth any faster. But I admire what you and your father do. Building green infrastructure for your community is just as important as what I do."

River laughed. "Please, don't flatter me. You deal with hardened criminals like my sister."

Daisy turned to Heather as they watched River bond with Conrad. "Riv grew up with a house full of sisters, but I think he always secretly wanted a brother."

When Conrad left to get the car, River turned to Heather. "I recognize the way he looks at you, and he's not going anywhere unless you tell him to. I know you like to think you're better off single, protecting your independence, but he's the guy who's perfect for you. You and Conrad finding each other is one in a million, like the day I met Cassandra. He's your Cassandra."

(Can confirm, Jane Simsten's Soulmates mod kicked in for these two way back on the night they ran into each other with Holly and Kris in San Myshuno, but Heather's unflirty and she's been burned in the past, so it's had to be this way. I'm sorry!)

River's beautiful wife gazed at him with love while he spoke. They were so sweet together, and their love used to make Heather feel like she was missing out. Now she had Conrad, who was as close to perfect as anyone she'd ever met, and she couldn't shake her insecurities.

"I know raising Ash with his father isn't easy and you're afraid to get hurt again," River said. "But that is a guy who's waiting for you to say 'I love you' so he can say it, too."

Neal frowned. "Huck, you don't know that. Don't test your sister's emotions-"

"I do know that, and I'd die on Old Mill Hill defending that take!"

"He makes me so happy," Heather admitted. "But what if he moves in and I find out he's a criminal mastermind masquerading as a detective?"

"Then you're even more perfect for each other than I thought."

Heather couldn’t deny her feelings for Conrad, as afraid as she was to put them into words and make them real.

Despite her fears, she was grateful for her family's approval, and she embraced her brother warmly when Conrad brought his car around. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: This got it's own post because Conrad and River literally said hello to each other and were basically best friends (they became official best friends later, when it mattered for Conrad's Friend of the World aspiration. tbh by then I thought they already were but either something glitched or broke with the Lovestruck patches or I never bothered and forgot). Their instant bromance felt so right - River looks up to his older sister and wants the best for her even though he can't help but tease her, and he and Conrad are both responsible guys focused on bettering their communities. It's a perfect match and I loved this development.

[thebearchives]

charles 🥹