#wille is an early bird

[wilmon-endgame23]

Alarm

For the Young Royals Drabble Challenge Week 2024 and the prompt Alarm ⏰

@youngroyals-events

......

Simon wakes up to the sound of his alarm, reaching instinctively for Wille beside him, only to find his spot empty.

He sighs, wishing Wille weren’t such an early bird. He really treasures their morning cuddles and pillow talks, wrapped in their own little bubble.

Slowly, he gets out of bed, following the rich aroma of coffee to the kitchen. Wille is already there, setting the table with two mugs and a plate of arepas topped with avocado.

“God morgon,” Wille says, meeting him with the warmest smile. They both move closer, leaning in for a sweet good morning kiss.

[mc-tummy-blur]

It probably gets lonely up there

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Check my pinned post to see links on how you can help the people in Palestine

[todayisafridaynight]

AYO I was just thinking about that fic... Sorry For Sucking And Not Writing In Yet but it had some really strong imagery so I totally get wanting to adapt parts of it... I think you should go for it if you want to but when have I ever not been all-in on an idea Lol...

Also do you think she remembers his name... do you think she feels sorry for him like he does her... do you think she just thinks of him as her asshole ex-boyfriend or something in between or outside of that...

LMAO S'ALL GOOD no needa stress bout writin in all the time, esp since i know you're real busy nowadays.. you've done more than enough to show your support for the stuff i do i think you can forgo an essay a time or two ♪(´▽｀) maybe if i dont know what to draw and im tired of workin on The Other Comic ill play round with scenes from it lol

i dont think ikumi has any ill will towards sawashiro- i mean if she did she'd be 1000% valid for it OOP but what little we saw of her, she doesnt seem the type to hold grudges. at least From What I've Seen (and what i know how my family and i tend to be), people who come from 'broken backgrounds' tend to internalize their anger or grief opposed to expressing it towards others, or they can at least forgive people quickly. when they were together, sawashiro might not have demonstrated the same grief she did at the time (maybe he dodged the topic entirely for However Long After they stayed together, but As An Audience we know that's his defense mechanism), so whether she feels bad for him or not isn't clear in my head. at the very least, she probably assumed he was handling it better than she was (not to be confused with apathy/indifference to the situation, if his consultation to her at the station is any indication to her that he was aware it was a tough situation)- which uhhhhh would turn out to be The Biggest Lie Ever LMAOOOO

i'd like to think she remembers his first name if anything...

[contact-guy]

📚Watson's Sketchbook PREORDER!📚

Hello! In response to ~unprecedented levels of demand~ for print versions of Watson's Sketchbook Volume 1, I'm doing another print run, and will be opening preorders here on MONDAY, NOVEMBER 11, at 9:00am PST/12:00 noon EST/5:00pm GMT.

DETAILS:

-This run is much larger than the two previous ones, but still limited, so being prompt is a good idea. Last time it sold out in 2 minutes, I do not think that will happen this time, but...early bird, etc.

-They will take a bit longer to arrive than previous orders, but should arrive for everyone by the end of January 2025, print- and shipping-gods willing. Thanks in advance for your patience, as I'm working with a small press printer and a small local distributor.

-If your address changes before the book ships, you can always send a message to the shop to update it. In general, any messages or questions about shipping should be sent there rather than by reaching out to me on here.

-I'm really hoping this run is large enough so that everyone who wants one can get it! Thank you always for your support of this ridiculous project that has consumed my life (positive) and for your support of independent art and queer art!

[terrestrialnoob]

Continuation from Part 1

Jazz took a deep breath. It's going to be fine. She can be normal for one night. Even if Harley is willing to befriend weirdos on a whim she doubted anyone else would. The shadow beneath her feed rolled like boiling tar and emotions that weren't hers poked at her mind.

"It's okay, Jet. They're not going to hurt me. I'm just... nervous."

She took another deep breath, she'd been told to ignore the closed sign, and entered the Coal Mine. She wasn't sure what she was expecting with a name like that, but it looked like a normal, if kinda rustic bar. It was empty except for a blonde woman in the back of the room, setting up a big table with food and drinks.

"Sorry, we're closed to the pub-" She started speaking before she looked up, stopping once she saw Jazz. "Oh! You must be Jazz, Harley's new friend.... You're early."

Jazz's face turned a little red but she stomped down her unease. "Yep! That's me. Early bird Jazz."

The blonde woman laughed wholeheartedly, but Jazz didn't think her joke was that funny. The woman walked over to her, "I'm Dinah, welcome to my bar. I don't often host girls night, but you got lucky."

Jazz shook her offered hand. "It's a nice place!" Though, Jazz didn't really go to bars. She didn't drink a lot and bars weren't really her scene.

"Feel free to grab a snack, grab a drink. I'm going to finish getting ready. Everyone else tends to be late. Which I guess means you're not early, you're here when we asked you."

"Oh, alright! I'll remember to be late next time." Why did she say that? That's so stupid and rude.... But Dinah laughed again. "Right, um, if it's okay, I did bring something." Jazz offered the plastic bag she decided to reuse with a tray of fudge she made inside it.

"Oh, that looks good. I'll go get a knife and plate to set it out with the other snacks."

Jazz more or less sat in awkward silence as Dinah did her thing getting ready. She wanted to offer to help, but this is Dinah's bar. If anyone else was there, Jazz wouldn't feel the need to help, and she didn't want to get in the way. But this was a private party, so maybe Jazz should offer to help. Just to carry stuff to the table or-

Then the door opened again and two women came through. One was in an expensive looking leather jacket and with short brown hair and the other had a cheap looking leather jacket with long brown hair. The short haired woman started talking before she was even all the way through the door. "Dinah, you would not believe how bad traffic is downtown today. An entire hour to get from 19th to- oh, hello."

Jazz jumped to her feet when the woman addressed her. "Hi, I'm Jazz."

"Selina." She said with a raised eyebrow.

"Harley invited her." The long haired woman said. "You really should read the texts."

"I don't want to set a precedent."

"Still." The long haired woman nodded towards Jazz. "Name's Helena."

"It's nice to meet you." Jazz said with a smile, but it started to slip at the sight of Selina.

Selina gave her a hard look, sizing her up, judging. "You're Harley's friend?"

Jazz rubbed the back of her neck nervously. "She's been to my apartment... and invited me here."

There was a beat of silence before Selina gave an amused huff and said, "You do seem like her type."

Dinah laughed again - maybe she was just easy to make laugh. The two walked over to the table and Selina's eyes immediately settled on the fudge. She opened her mouth to comment but the door opened again and Harley burst through, pulling someone behind her.

"We're here! I even got a special something for- Jazz! You're here already!" She turned to the woman behind her and quickly pushed something into her hands before rounding back to the rest in the room. "Heya Jazzy! I'm happy you could make it! This is my wife - Ivy."

Ivy stepped forward and eyed Jazz with more curiosity than the suspicion Selina had or Helena's indifference or Dinah's more welcoming demeanor. "It's nice to meet you. Harley told me about her little visit to your home. You look... normal."

Jazz knew her face was even redder than before. "Well, normal is the goal, right?"

There was a beat when the other's in the room just seemed to stare at her. Harley barked out her own harsh laughter, "Not here it ain't!"

"O-oh..." Jazz didn't have a frame of reference for this. If normal wasn't what they wanted, then what did they want? Eccentric scientist like her parents? Harley was a vigilante, maybe that's what she should emulate?

"Don't worry." Ivy said as she passed Jazz to sit at the table, a potted plant on a nearby windowsill suddenly, and far too quickly, bloomed. "From what I've heard, I'm sure you'll fit in."

"Harley said that too. I'm just worried. I've never had my own friends before." Oh, shit, she shouldn't have said that. Only weirdos don't have friends.

"Same." Ivy said and picked up a piece of Jazz's fudge.

"Here too." Helena added, and gave the piece of fudge she'd been holding for a while a curious look. It must be unusual for everyone to react this way.

"IS THAT FUDGE? I love fudge!" Harley said and grabbed a handful to stuff in her mouth. "This is so good! Where'd it come from?"

"Oh. I made it. Didn't want to come empty handed, you know." Jazz said, joining the other's at the table and taking her own piece before Harley ate it all. "It's my mom's recipe, but it doesn't quite taste the same without the low-level radiation."

"Oh, you have to put the radiation in it next time!"

"Do not do that." Three other women at the table said in almost unison. Oddly enough, it was Helena who didn't join in.

"Why was there radiation in your mother's fudge?" Selina asked as Dinah started to deal out cards.

"My parents are kinda mad scientists - kinda also mad occultists. All the food in the house was contaminated, and part of the reason my brother and I are vegetarian." Jack and three.

Dinah seemed to loose her breath before wheezing out, "Even more the same."

"What?"

"I'm also a vegetarian, mainly because of the environmental nightmare farming is." Ivy supplied, she bet conservatively.

"Right, that's why my brother's friend is vegan."

"Wait, how does the contamination equate to being vegetarian?" Helena asked - getting excited as Dinah reveals the flop, a good hand then. "Did it make meat taste bad or...?

"Oh, it brought it to life." Jazz said as she traded a card. "I can't tell you how many reanimated headless turkeys and chickens I had to kill. Not to mention the hotdogs Dad trained to attack intruders, they also attacked friends and visitors too. That was too much, even for Spike."

"Holy shit, that's amazing." Harley said while Ivy and Selina looked horrified, Dinah was as entertained as Harley, and Helena was enjoying herself. "Can't say I've ever fought reanimated deli meats."

"Bruce has." Selina commented, and directed at Jazz, "My long-term boyfriend. Thought about marrying him for a little while, but it didn't really suit either of our lifestyles."

No animosity, only relief. Jazz smiled at her, "Different people have different needs. Not everyone needs to be married with children."

Dinah laughed, "And boy, does Bruce have children! How many does he have now? Six? Seven? I thought I read on the news he's got a new one."

"Technically yes, but he's just fostering Duke, not adopting. Once his parents are well again, he'll want to go home." Selina saw Jazz's curious face, but deflected to lighter gossip. "I'm not the motherly type, not that I'd be cruel to any kids I could possibly have especially if they're Bruce's-" She sighed "-but Bruce lives for his kids. He has four adopted children, one biological child from another woman - it's fine, we both have our fun - and two foster children.... I think."

"You're not sure?" Helena questioned. Dinah put out another card.

"I think Steph is a foster, but I never saw the paperwork for it. At the very least, she's living in his house." Selina said, then stared at Ivy. "Not getting lucky, dear?"

Ivy sneered and put her cards down. "I don't even know why I agree to this game."

"Is it the one game all night, or do you do other stuff?" Jazz asked. She's good at poker. Between her enhanced empathy and psychology degree, she was rarely fooled.

"Depends on the place. Dinah likes poker, so we play it when she hosts." Helena said, she looked at Jazz, then Harley and folded her cards. "And we quit when Harley wins all our money and play something else."

"That's right baby!" Harley cheered and slammed her cards face up on the table, "No one beats the Harley!"

Jazz and Selina put their cards down too, face up.

"I guess there are exceptions..." Harley said with a mischievous grin.

Selina grinned too, "Someone has to loose all of Bruce's money."

Jazz grinned as the pot was pushed her direction. "Well, then let me know when it gets boring of just me and Harley playing."

The entire table laughed. Yeah, Jazz was starting to feel like she really would fit in here.

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Chapter One (of four)

Masterpost

Danny hit the brakes hard and veered into a bicycle lane with a very Fenton sort of style and disregard for physics. He dodged the gunman in the carpool lane. He stuck his tongue out as he passed and then steered back into the right lane once he’d cleared the pedestrian. 

It turned out that Gotham rewarded the sort of drivers forged in the crucible of the Fenton tactical GAV, which was great. Jazz had gotten a job as a barista for her third year at Gotham U, so he had inherited the car that she had used as a delivery driver. She’d even somehow managed to pay the taxes on it despite the restraining orders that most government offices had on the Fenton family.

Jazz had been a pizza girl, but Danny wasn’t willing to work the late nights. He worked for three different rideshare companies. It was.. Well. It was a terrible way to make a living, if he was honest. It was wretched. But it worked! Until the car crapped out on him, this was a viable option to feed himself while he was enrolled full time at the university. He was available to drive early in the mornings and for a few peak hours on the weekends.

Danny brought an order of 17 coffees to a warehouse with serious ‘murders will happen here today’ vibes and whistled as he left. People in murder warehouses actually tipped pretty well. Worker solidarity or something. He left the early birds to enjoy their 3 am drinks and then idly checked the app to see if there was anyone else waiting for a ride or delivery. 

“Victor,” he read, and took a glance at the address. It was close! He snagged the request and turned on some bubblegum pop to enhance the ride over. 

He saw a man standing outside, haunting a storefront with metal shutters pulled down. Must be the guy! Danny pulled over, checked the app, and then furrowed his eyebrows. Huh. Seemed wrong. He fixed his face before he looked back over. 

In the app, Victor didn’t look especially young or fit. In person, he was easily over 6 feet tall and lugged a huge bulky bag like it weighed nothing. 

He also had a giant ugly motorcycle helmet with the vague impression of a caveman brow ridge built into it. Danny hid his judgmental thoughts and rolled down the window to chirp, “Hi! Victor?”

“That’s me.” Victor sounded like he was auditioning for the Deft Punks, electronics grinding out his voice to a silly robot autotune. Danny hid the way his lips wanted to tremble. You can’t laugh at clients. “Can I put this in the trunk?”

Danny hated that. “Go for it.” He opened the trunk with the button and hid his real thoughts. He didn’t like people using the trunk. Why not just put it in the backseat like a normal person? There was enough room for a person and a bag there.

‘Is there enough room for this guy, actually?’ Danny wondered, looking Victor up and down subtly. Were his shoulders padded or was he actually built like that? Bizarre. 

He had the sense that Victor was tense.

‘Ah., fuck. He caught me checking out his shoulders.’

Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.” 

Victor took him up on the front seat option and readjusted the passenger seat back with a casual ease. 

Danny waited a moment.

Victor cocked his head at him.

“Seatbelt,” Danny prompted.

There was a long moment. Victor silently buckled his seatbelt. 

“Awesome.” Danny put on his turn signals and pulled out. He went slower than he preferred. He’d learned the hard way that most passengers didn’t like his driving. It was great for cutting time off when he was delivering food, but no good for nervous cargo like poor Victor here. The poor guy was so anxious that he kept his emotional support helmet on when a passenger in a car. 

Danny thoughtfully drove the speed limit and let Victor change music.

They didn’t have much to talk about. Danny didn’t mind much either way. He liked quiet rides and he liked chatting alright.

“Stop the car two blocks early,” Victor said. He pointed. “There’s fine.”

Obligingly Danny guided the car to a stop and shifted to park. He jumped out of the car. “I’ll grab your bag!” He called over his shoulder. He popped open the trunk and lifted Victor’s bag with a winning smile that said ‘I deserve a good tip.’

Victor had moved to the back of the car faster than Danny expected. He paused. He looked weirdly stiff. “Thanks.” He took the bag. “...Here’s your tip.”

“Have a wonderful day!” Danny said, pretending not to be interested in how much money it was. He waved Victor goodbye and pulled out. As soon as he was a block away he counted the bills. “Fuck yeah,” he hissed. Victor tipped like a crime boss. He stuffed them into his wallet and made a mental note of the account. He’d definitely try to accept requests from him in future.

He gave two more rides before he could go back to his shitty apartment and get ready for classes. Danny parked in the little underground garage near his place where he paid a monthly fee and jogged to his place. He got his bag and left on foot.

He had a pretty normal day. The only hiccup was that it was kind of hard to focus on his lectures when he could faintly hear what had to be every TV on campus playing the same news bulletin. Danny did his best to block it out, grimacing. Having advanced senses really sucked sometimes. If he heard the breaking news jingle one more time, he might cry. 

By the time he was free he felt pushed to his limit. He went back to his place and turned off all his electronics for some peace of mind. 

The next morning felt better. He turned on the tab that said he was available for work at 3 am and ended up bringing a huge delivery of breakfast materials to the same police station that he’d left Victor at yesterday. Danny hummed as he jogged up the concrete steps with three bulging bags of baked goods and coffee grounds. He handed them to a weary-eyed receptionist and accepted his tip without looking at it. He considered cracking a joke about them being busy and decided it was better not to.

He was still an illegal entity, after all. His parents were covering for him, but scrutiny was not his friend. He didn’t want any interaction with the police or the rogue band of detective freakazoids that ran this crime town.

Back in the car, he checked his tip. Danny clicked his tongue and made a disgusted sound. He hated cops. Cheap! There was nothing worse than being cheap.

His next customer tried to rob him at gunpoint as soon as he got in the car. Danny wrestled the gun away from him and ate it while the guy watched. “Just try and report me to the app,” Danny sneered between crunches of metal. It tasted like shit and the guy probably hadn’t washed his hands, so like, yuck. But it was a choice he was making for the intimidation factor, not because it was yummy.

‘Bet my iron intake is good now.’ Danny held out his hand. “My tip,” he said, and did not unlock the car door until the shaking wannabe carjacker had given him three dollars American money. Hell yeah. “Have a good morning.”

He went into the app and canceled the ride. There was another request waiting, so he drove to it. It wasn’t the name that the app’s request had shown, but- “Good morning, Victor!” Danny waved. “Call from a friend’s app this time?”

Victor stared at him dumbly. At least, that was Danny’s best guess of what was going on inside the helmet. “Yes.” He eventually said.

Cool, cool. Very weird. But he was an ok guy and he tipped well. “Hop in,” Danny said, and unlocked the car.

[muchosbesitos]

good morning!— featuring nanami kento x fem reader

your morning with nanami gets interrupted :(

contents: disgusting amounts of fluff & allusions to smut w no actual smut

word count: 1k+

author’s note: somewhat of a fluffy drabble b4 i work on an angsty wip lol

Mornings such as this one were ones you found yourself cherishing as the months went by—as you started to realize that one day, the man that you cared about may not come in through the door with a tired smile on his face. Mornings where it wasn't an onslaught of alarms waking either one of you, where you'd barely get in an exchange of something in semblance of a 'good morning.'

But rather, where the two of you were woken up by the early morning sun shining through sheer white curtains and the sound of the birds chirping outside. You comfortably laying in his arms with just one of his old button downs while he wore a simple pair of grey sweatpants on. Where your bodies were so intertwined in the white silk sheets that you weren't sure where his started and yours ended.

"Good morning, darling," Kento's pointer finger drew small circles on your back, his other arm wrapped around your waist. From just the sound of his voice, you knew that he planned on keeping you in bed as long as he possibly could. Because every moment short of an eternity with you wasn't nearly enough to satiate him.

"Good morning," you answered back, albeit a bit groggily. You rubbed your eyes in an attempt to get yourself to function a bit better—inevitably failing at the task when you snuggled up to Kento's side. Nanami's lips went down to your exposed shoulder where the shirt was slowly starting to slide off, planting a gentle kiss before moving closer and closer to your neck. The ghost of his stubble barely grazing against your skin when he did.

"So I was thinking.. I found this recipe for crème brûlée if you want to try it out later," Nanami uttered, sliding in between your legs after your neck was successfully peppered in his kisses. He wasted no time in moving onto your thighs, his lips attaching themselves to whatever piece of flesh that he had the nearest. "Mhm?" You were half paying attention to his words, more distracted in the way that his mouth deliberately moved closer to your underwear before moving away.

"And we can just spend our breakfast in bed," you ran your fingers across his 'disheveled' hair, a small hum escaping from your lips as you pretended to mull over the option. As if weren't a simple yes. "I suppose we could do that. If you're willing to prove why it's a good idea," you retorted, a small gasp escaping from your lips when you felt him gently bite down onto your inner thigh—hard enough to leave you with a hickey on there for days.

And Nanami hadn't even managed to hook his finger into the waistband of your panties when a knock at the door distracted the two of you. "You think if we ignore them, they'll go away?" He buried his head into your stomach, making no move to stand up just yet. Or at least, he wouldn't have if it weren't for the knocks at the door growing more and more intense. Clearly they had no intention of going away.

And Kento almost seemed reluctant to stand up from the comfort of the plush bed, letting out a small groan when he did. "I'll get it, just stay here," he pressed his lips against your forehead before grabbing a white t-shirt from his dresser and sliding it over his body. Effectively covering the little bites that covered his collarbones and the trace of your nails on his back. Only when he was somewhat decent is that he opened the door.

And while Nanami wasn't expecting anyone at the door—he would've welcomed anyone that wasn't Gojo at the moment.

Because while Nanami might've been able to hide the hickeys that littered his chest and collarbones, he was unable to hide your presence from the apartment. The beige coat that hung next to his own, the pair of heels that you'd worn when you'd come over last night next to his dress shoes, and the scent of your sweet perfume lingering on the air.

"What can I help you with?" Nanami already sounded agitated with the conversation, feeling a headache starting to form with every second he was forced to endure with the man.

"You finally got yourself laid? Lemme guess, you paid someone? Or you got yourself a dating app?" Gojo didn't even bother with the same formalities as Nanami had done—immediately jumping onto making assumptions about the feminine presence of the room.

"No. I did not get myself an escort, not that there's anything wrong with it," And Nanami was determined to leave it at just that. He figured it was already enough for Gojo to know where he lived.

"Oh come on, Nanamiiii. Give me something to work with," Gojo had a ridiculous pout on his face as he begged, surely giving him puppy eyes under the stupid ass blindfold.

"Was it one of those door to door salesmen?" And before Gojo even got the chance to make any more comments, you waltzed out of the bedroom in the same clothes that you'd gone to sleep in.

Nanami didn't even have to turn around to know that Gojo was giving him a shit-eating grin, opening the door and letting himself into the apartment like he owned the place. At least the white haired bastard had the decency to take off his shoes off. "Nanami's been keeping you hidden, I'm Gojo," he extended a hand out to you, his fingers freakishly long.

"He's mentioned you before," you responded, giving him your name before shaking his hand. Offering what you hoped was a polite smile—hoping you didn't look too exhausted in your state. Leaving out the part where half the time that Kento did mention him—it was usually to complain about what a pain in the ass he'd been at work.

"Only good things I'd hope," Gojo responded, sitting down on the expensive leather couch against the wall and placing his feet up on the coffee table.

"Absolutely n—"

And before Kento had the chance to finish his sentence, you'd taken it on yourself to salvage the situation, "Absolutely, only good things."

"Well, I like you. If we're lucky, our little breakfast might become our lunch!" Because spending nearly every day having to look at him just wasn't enough. Just exactly how Nanami had planned to spend his morning.

[inkskinned]

you have to be sexy but you have to be sexy in a way that's kind of bloody. you learn this early because you are wearing a ruffled skirt and the snow around your ankles kicks little sand particles against your calves. baby's first catcall. welcome to sexiness! welcome to the eyesore of your own body!

you have to be sexy like high heels. like sculpted eyebrows. like lean stomach and highly treated hair. you have to be sexy like youth is sexy, which means you have to be sexy like boxtox and plastic. a 30 year old can be sexy but she's not going to be bloody, and they like the bloodiness of it. a 30 year old is sexy when she is a whiskey glass and a wooden desk.

but you need to be sexy like an open mouth. you need to be sexy like a bitten apple. like plucked skin and white-knuckling the waxing kit.

so sex is a performance, not an enjoyment. for a while, you just assumed everyone else was also in on the joke - nobody actually likes sex that much, right? like, some men probably do, but why would you? it is like a gender - your gender is sexy. your gender is the performance of sex. you are thigh highs and garter belts. which, to be fair, do make you feel sexy.

part of what does make sex good is that you can tell that other people want you, which means the performance of sexiness is both bloody and wanted, which is good, which means you are winning at having a body. being wanted is the prize. being wanted is the thing you are searching for, not hope. you think you are looking for a soft grave in easy loam, but that is bloody but not sexy. to be sexy you must be bloody like a red open sign. bloody like a handprint. this will make you wanted.

any wanted or unwanted body is subject to supply and demand, which is to say that the more demand, the better you are valued. you must be highly demanded to be valued. this is stated in matter-of-fact by some men. sometimes it is a priest that says it, and sometimes it is a podcaster, and sometimes it is the 45th president of the united states of america.

(if you do not have any experience with being told your value, i want you to grab the nearest bird to you and i want you to crush it into a thin paste in your hand. spit into the center, and then hold your fingers closed tight around it for days and days, long after the rot has set in. feel bones itch inside of your fist. this is only a fraction of what it actually feels like, but it will suffice for a moment.)

good sex feels like you have earned their desperation. you have earned your own value. for a while you operated under the understanding that everyone knew about the power structure, even him. that their desire to take you - the violence of it - means that you must desire to be caught. little prince, guardian fox - you would rather have cut your own arm off. you liked the secret, cunning little voice you keep tucked into a box. you think you are fucking me. i am not even here right now. you are fucking what i conned you into perceiving. this is a painting, not a person. dominion over the body before all things.

so you bend your body like a wheat shaft and learn the steps so perfectly that it almost seems graceful. (if you do not have experience faking your own connection to your body and sexuality, cut each of your articles of clothing just a little bit incorrectly. pour fishbones into each of your meals. this way, you will experience the average noon on a tuesday.)

you have to be sexy like light spilled over a desk, but not desperate. not a noose. you can't be sexy like an electric guitar, you are the acoustic. you have to be on top of the bull but you can't have control over the animal.

okay, okay. the little rabbit of your heart went to sleep so long ago that winter has ravaged your concept of the human soul. there's something very-bad inside you, something that has taken over, a little fetid and rabid animal, angry and hurting and willing to bite first.

oh but even that's a pain that's sexy. open your mouth. be careful not to let the canines show.

[megalony]

You've Done Enough

Okay, this is a new Evan Buckley imagine, based on a few similar requests I've gotten. I absolutely love this trope and I am hoping to do a few more like this if I can.

Let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: A family meal with the Buckley parents takes a bad turn when they begin to insult Evan's heavily pregnant wife and upset her.

Enjoy.

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When she felt a gentle hand curling around her thigh, (Y/n) opened her eyes and looked out the window her temple was resting on. They had arrived.

She could feel adrenaline bubbling up in her stomach and fluttering around in her chest like millions of birds wings coming to life within her. She did her best to force a smile on her face and perk herself up, but she could feel her energy draining to almost nothing.

She wasn't ready for this.

Her hand reached down to curl around Evan's wrist and she gave a tight squeeze before she tilted her head to look over at him. He didn't look so eager for this either.

"Off we go."

(Y/n) tried not to groan at Evan's words as she unclipped her belt and heaved herself down from the jeep. She shut the door with a band and leaned against the bonnet while she watched Evan round the front to stand next to her. She couldn't help but fold her arms over her bump, staring up at him with that look which told Evan she wasn't too happy about this.

"We don't have to stay long." He was bargaining with her already because he knew exactly what was running through her mind without her needing to say a word.

Reaching down, Evan cupped the side of her neck and began tracing his thumb along her jawline. He stepped closer until his abdomen was pressed up against her bump and he grinned when he felt (Y/n)'s posture begin to slack. Her arms dropped from her chest and she moved her hands to hold his hips.

Neither of them were usually this uneasy when they came over to Maddie and Chimney's home. But this wasn't just any usual family dinner. Evan's parents were in town.

"We can leave after we've eaten, and we've got the perfect excuse this time." His hand stayed cupping her neck while he moved his other hand down to glide across her stomach.

Evan was more than willing to use the pregnancy as their excuse to cut this family gathering short. (Y/n)'s due date was five days away, it was safe to say that they were almost ready to meet their baby. And that gave them the perfect reasoning to leave early. (Y/n) hadn't been feeling too well lately and they both knew Evan's parents could be a lot. They would stress everyone out.

So this time, when they were ready to leave but didn't want to be rude or cause problems, they could simply say (Y/n) was tired or feeling unwell and needed to go home and rest.

"You'll use our boy to get out of seeing your parents?" (Y/n) looked down at her bump with a pretentious tone to her voice just to tease Evan. Because she would do the same.

"Absolutely."

(Y/n) let him tilt her head back and steal a kiss before he wove his arm around her waist and guided them up the front path.

She could feel anxiety pooling in her stomach, causing the baby to liven up when they got to the front door.

Much like Evan had an estranged relationship with them, (Y/n)'s wasn't much better. They had tried to include her and be civil, but it was simply clear that they weren't very interested. As far as everyone was concerned, Maddie was their child and Jee was their granddaughter, no one else mattered in their small lives.

When they told Evan's parents that they were expecting a baby, (Y/n) thought it would change things. She thought they would try and make the effort, like when Maddie had been pregnant. And they had seemed genuinely happy for Evan, that he was settled down and starting his own family, but that was as far as it went. They hadn't asked after (Y/n), asked how the pregnancy was going or asked about the scans.

(Y/n) tucked herself more into Evan's side when he rapped his knuckles on the door before walking inside. Maddie's home was their home, Evan didn't have to knock, he was welcome to just walk right in or use his spare key, but it was polite to knock first.

She let Evan guide them both inside and they followed the sound of voices to find everyone gathered in the kitchen.

"Oh, there you are! You both okay?" Maddie set down the tray in her hand on the side and wiped her hands on a teatowel before she hurried over to them.

Her arms looped around Evan's neck, pulling him down to her for a bear hug before she turned to (Y/n). With (Y/n) having no siblings, Maddie had become her sister too. She gave her a loving hug and when she pulled back, Maddie gently brushed her hand over (Y/n)'s stomach with a sweet smile. She was very eager to become an aunt.

"We're good." Evan kissed the back of Maddie's head and he held his breath when he saw his mum shuffle over towards him.

He let her reel him down for a brisk, short hug and peck his cheek and he felt his father pat his shoulder.

"How are you Evan? Ooh, that looks sore." Margaret grazed her fingertips over the back of Evan's hand were a blister was just starting to heal up into a scab. It made his skin feel taut and tight and he'd had enough of massaging burn cream into the wound. He'd removed his gloves a bit too eagerly at work last week and found himself diving back into a fire to help a trapped victim. Hence the burn on his hand, and another one on his left arm just beneath his shoulder. Hidden by his shirt sleeve.

"It's healing up now, and we're good. No more work for the next three weeks, ready for the baby."

Evan folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter, crossing one leg in front of the other. He found a grin worming onto his face when Maddie grinned and clapped excitedly. She knew Evan was bubbling over at the thought of having his baby boy any day now. He was now on leave so that he could be with (Y/n) when she went into labour and be home with his family for the first three weeks. He couldn't wait.

His grin broadened and he loosened his arms from his chest when a squeal of "Uncle Buck!" hit his ears and he saw Jee making her way over to them. She had her hair done up into two little bobbles on top of her head and her arms were stretched out in his direction.

"Ahh, there's my girl." Swooping down, Evan picked her up and cuddled her to his chest, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He cuddled her for a few moments before she turned and made grabbing hands out towards (Y/n).

Evan leaned over and gently set her back down to her feet so she could attach herself to (Y/n)'s legs and give her a hug.

"Hi girly."

"Come play, I have ice cream machine." Jee gave a sharp tug on (Y/n)'s hand and started strutting off towards the living room, giving (Y/n) no choice but to follow after her.

(Y/n) cast a look over her shoulder to see Evan grinning at her and Maddie quickly muttered 'play dough' under her breath. So it wasn't real ice cream (Y/n) was going to get. That wasn't fair; the baby had a hankering for ice cream lately.

She let Jee guide her into the living room and when she pointed to the sofa, (Y/n) grinned and obeyed. Her hand moved to her back and she eased down, feeling a lot better when she was sitting than when she was standing. She shuffled to the edge of the seat and ran her hands along her knees while Jee sat down on the floor right beside her leg.

There was a play dough ice cream maker in the middle of the table, with various coloured pots scattered around and moulds for sprinkles and decorations. The machine itself was mainly a tube which play dough was squeezed through the top into a cone or one of the plastic sundae cups.

"What flavour?" Jee held the cone out expectingly, silently telling (Y/n) that was what she was having.

"Can the baby have cherry ice cream?"

A smile lightened up Jee's face and she reached across for the dark red play dough cup before she twisted to look up at (Y/n). Her hand moved to (Y/n)'s stomach and she carefully patted her hand along (Y/n)'s bump. The three year old was fascinated with (Y/n)'s tummy and the fact that soon, she would have a baby cousin to play with.

"One for baby roo." Jee muttered quietly before she set to work making a strange looking ice cream with green and orange sprinkles. She had taken to calling the baby roo and she was adamant that they should call the baby roo because then combined with Buck, it would be buckaroo.

(Y/n) kindly took the pretend ice cream she was offered and made sure to admire it before she slowly deconstructed it to pretend she had eaten it.

After about three pretend ice creams that made (Y/n) desperately hungry for a proper one, she was ready to go get a drink and see if she could help Maddie with dinner.

"Shall I give this one to uncle Buck? It's his favourite colour."

Jee nodded excitedly and watched as (Y/n) took the purple ice cream while her other hand moved to her stomach that always felt low and heavy these days.

She looked over her shoulder when Jee grinned and waved and (Y/n) felt her smile tightening when Margaret walked into the room. At least she could take over playing the customer at the ice cream shop so (Y/n) would have some time to get a drink.

The elder woman walked into the room and perched down next to (Y/n) on the sofa. She smiled and leaned over to pat (Y/n)'s thigh as if they were old friends or close family rather than estranged relatives.

"How are you?" The question rather surprised (Y/n) and she tried to soften her smile. It was nice that Margaret was trying to make a little effort and take an interest. God knows she had been much more involved in Maddie's pregnancy and (Y/n) knew that had really upset Evan, though he never voiced it to anyone.

"A bit tired, but I'm good, thank you. What about you?" The only person (Y/n) would admit she was struggling to was Evan or Maddie. She would never say to anyone else that she was struggling with back ache or feeling sick, which got worse with the strange cravings she'd suffered from.

She wouldn't say anything to his parents because she knew what Margaret was like. She would downplay anything (Y/n) said and make her feel bad or like she was being silly over nothing.

"Oh, finally recovered after the drive down here." She looked down at Jee and nodded to the colour Jee was holding out to her. Somehow, Margaret's smile seemed more genuine when she looked at her daughter or granddaughter.

When she looked back at (Y/n), she hummed quietly and reached over to graze her hand along the side of (Y/n)'s stomach. The touch was slow but surprising, Margaret hadn't done that any other time she had seen (Y/n)'s bump.

It was a bit uncomfortable considering (Y/n) wasn't used to any kind of touches or physical contact with her mother in law. And she was mainly only comfortable with Evan touching her in this manner, other than the odd times Maddie would reach for her bump.

"You've filled out since the last time we saw you."

A shiver crawled down (Y/n)'s spine and the smile faded from her face when she registered those words.

The last time they had seen Evan's parents was three months ago when they came down for Maddie's birthday. (Y/n) had only been six months pregnant by then, of course her body had changed. She was pregnant, she was almost ready to go into labour any day now. She was supposed to change shape and get a rounder stomach and have more curves by now.

"Yeah," Her eyes diverted down to the pretend ice cream she was still holding, and she resorted to counting each funny shaped sprinkle Jee had placed on top for added decoration.

Margaret pulled her hand away with a fond smile and she finally looked away from (Y/n)'s stomach to drag her eyes up and down her frame instead. She made a point of patting (Y/n)'s arm before she gently plucked at the strap of (Y/n)'s dress.

"That's pretty." Margaret dragged her fingertips along the strap before her hand retracted and she tilted her head at an angle to observe (Y/n) who felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

(Y/n) looked down at the dress she had chosen to wear; it was one of Evan's new favourites. It was black with plum coloured designs and swirls along the soft cotton fabric. The straps were thin and it had a V-cut line around her chest and the dress was long enough to reach her knees, even with her bump in the way.

Thank you was on the tip of her tongue before her mother in law made another comment.

"It's not very decent, though, looks rather tight on you lovey. It's a good thing you'll be having the baby soon, you look like you're eating for three."

Her heartstrings snapped, dropping her heart down to the pit of her stomach as bile rose in the back of her throat. She clenched her hand around the plastic cone and moved her free hand to the arm rest, using it as leverage to push herself to her feet.

She could feel tears burning in the corner of her eyes, but she did her best to push them away. (Y/n) didn't want to cry. They had been here for less than an hour and already she was desperate to go home.

Her eyes scanned down her dress as she walked out the room as fast as she could with the shooting pains in her lower back and the constant ache in her stomach.

The dress wasn't tight.

The waistband sat neatly on top of her bump and the cotton was very stretchy, if (Y/n) pulled it she would have a lot of room in here. It was a maternity dress and (Y/n) had been rather pleased that it didn't look like a maternity one, once she'd had the baby she would still be able to wear this dress. Which had quickly become Evan's favourite from the moment he saw it on her.

Did she really look bad in this dress? Surely if she did, Evan wouldn't have attached himself to her the moment she put it on. They were almost late this afternoon because (Y/n) had to keep re-adjusting the dress when Evan pulled the hemline down or raked it up over her thighs.

Did she look like she was having a multiple pregnancy? Did she look that big- too big? Did this dress make her look bigger?

She trailed her free hand along her stomach but it only made her shiver and caused her thoughts to amplify ten times worse.

"How many ice creams did she make you?" Chimney turned his head to speak over his shoulder when he caught sight of (Y/n) walking into the kitchen. But he turned round when he heard a meek 'too many' filter back to him; she didn't sound chirpy.

Evan turned around from the stove where he had been helping Maddie with the last of the veg, but he didn't like the uneasy look on his wife's face. His brows furrowed and a frown pulled at his lips while he set the tea towel down and grabbed the drink he had made (Y/n) a few minutes ago.

"Everything okay?"

"Jee made you this."

Evan took a step back when a play dough ice cream was thrust into his hand and in the blink of an eye, (Y/n) took the glass he held out to her and turned around. He watched, bewildered, as she walked away from them all, taking great care to steer clear of the dining table where Phillip was sat nursing a cup of coffee.

Shock continued to rattle through him while he watched (Y/n) slip out the back door and move over to the garden furniture beside the patio door. He watched the way she leaned to the left, clinging to the arm of the small outdoor sofa to ease herself down. But he couldn't see her expression and see if she was panicking or even crying; her back was to the doors, probably the reason she sat on the sofa and not one of the chairs.

Setting the ice cream down, Evan looked around, sharing a worried but utterly dismayed look with his sister before he stepped towards the hall. Surely Jee hadn't said or done anything to upset (Y/n)? She'd never even raised her voice to Jee, their niece was on her best behaviour around (Y/n). (Y/n) was the only one Jee wouldn't be cheeky to or say no to.

But when he peered into the living room and saw his mum sat playing with Jee, something sparked in his chest and his skin bristled like barbed wire. Had she said something to upset (Y/n)?

"Give me a minute." He murmured to Maddie and carefully set down Jee's work of art on the counter so he didn't drop or crush it.

He headed past the dining area and cautiously walked out onto the patio, being mindful to shut the door behind him to give them both a bit of privacy.

His eyes took in the way (Y/n) was sat. She was leaning to the left, slouched into the arm rest and she was slouched back into the sofa like she was starting to melt or had no willpower left within her. Evan knew more recently, especially when they were out, (Y/n) sat on the edge of her seat and tried to sit straight. So she didn't hurt her back and so she didn't struggle to get up from low seats like this.

Her left hand was propping up her head with her elbow on the arm rest, while her right hand was curled around her glass that was resting prominently on her bump.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, Evan moved round and sat down next to her. The garden furniture was rather small and Evan always sat with his knees spread meaning he was now pressed up against his wife with their knees bumping together.

He stretched his left arm over the back of the sofa, behind (Y/n), and he leaned forward to gently take her glass. He was glad she'd had a few sips, she hadn't had a drink for a while and Evan knew the headaches she got if she didn't drink enough.

"Don't rest things on him." He chided playfully to see if she would smile, and he was relieved to see (Y/n)'s lips quirk up to one side just a tiny bit.

But Evan was dismayed to see a few tear tracks traced down her cheek. He set her glass down on the table but he couldn't refrain from dragging his thumb along her cheek.

"What's up, baby?" He watched intently as (Y/n) leaned closer to him rather than the arm rest and she leaned her cheek on his shoulder. And his eyes followed the way her hands slowly traced her stomach in odd patterns, but she stopped for a moment when Evan pressed his hand to her stomach.

"Do I look okay in this?" She pulled the cotton fabric a little to show what she was referring to. She snapped her eyes closed and leaned further into Evan when she felt his chest tighten against her and his arm left the back of the sofa to curl over her shoulders instead.

"Why would you ask that? Didn't I tell you this morning you looked beautiful?" Evan leaned down to peck the top of her head while his thumb glided up and down her bare arm.

He tried to take the dress off her as soon as she put it on, was that not enough confirmation that he loved her in it so much? He thought she looked devouring in that dress.

"Yeah, but does- does it… nevermind. Let's see if Maddie needs some help." It took a great deal of effort to shimmy out of Evan's embrace and sit up properly. And (Y/n) couldn't help but wince when she felt her back twinge when she sat up.

Her hand moved to Evan's thigh and gripped tight, trying to will herself to move and shuffle to the edge of the seat to get up. But she barely managed to lean forwards before Evan had both arms looped around her waist. His hands splayed out on her stomach and he gently but firmly reeled her back into his chest.

"No, not until you tell me what's wrong. Come on baby, I know something's upsetting you. Talk to me." He pecked her shoulder and made a trail up her neck until (Y/n) was shivering in his arms.

"I don't look too… big, do I?" (Y/n) cringed as she spoke and she kept her gaze on her lap when she felt Evan take another sharp breath.

"Did my mother say something to you?" The brisk tone to his voice made (Y/n) wince. She didn't want to tell him. She didn't want to admit that his mother's passing comments had struck a nerve, but she couldn't help it. Those words had cut deep and (Y/n) couldn't help but take them to heart.

When she didn't respond, she felt Evan uncurl from around her so he was sitting up straight. He moved his right hand to cup her chin and he tilted her head up in his direction so she had no choice but to look at his stern expression and those steely blue eyes.

"What did she say?"

"I look like I'm- I'm eating for three."

A horrible twinge tore through (Y/n)'s stomach when she watched Evan's expression change within a split second. Those eyes became glazed and hardened. His cheekbones popped against his skin and his teeth sank down into his lower lip, pulling it tight causing his chin to tense.

When Evan detached from her, clearly about to get up, (Y/n) scrambled to grab his arm and pull him back to her. She didn't want to make a fuss, she had already done enough by letting the words upset her. She didn't want Evan to go arguing with his parents over this. They needed to be civil, for Maddie and Jee and Chimney. Once they'd eaten, they could go home just like they planned.

"Don't say anything, Evan please-"

"She's upset you! And what she said was spiteful-"

"Babe, please, no arguments… I don't feel well." (Y/n) gave another little tug on his arm until he sat back down beside her.

Her back was starting to ache again and the worry was going straight to her stomach that was doing summersaults. She didn't want to be the cause of an argument between Evan and his parents. She didn't have the strength to play referee or be in the middle of this. She shouldn't have said anything.

When Evan nodded, (Y/n) pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder and moved his hand down to cup the bottom of her stomach where the baby was moving. She felt his fingers tap against her skin and she started to relax when he swooped down to steal a fiery kiss from her lips.

"You need to eat, come on." The fire was still burning within Evan's eyes and his tone was gritty and anything but calm, but he didn't want (Y/n) feeling any worse.

He moved his hand to (Y/n)'s back and his other hand entwined with hers so he could carefully give her a push up. Once she was on her feet, he got up and moved both hands to hold her hips while (Y/n) picked up her drink and walked back inside ahead of him.

(Y/n) leaned her forearms on the kitchen counter when they headed over towards Maddie and she couldn't help but arch her lower back out when her back felt like it was seizing up. She felt Evan's hands curve around to her bump as he leaned over her and peppered a few kisses to her neck and behind her ear.

"You okay honey?" Maddie reached across to give her arm a squeeze and when (Y/n) nodded, she pushed a small plastic bowl towards her.

(Y/n) lifted her head and rose a brow when she saw the grin on Maddie's face as she pointed at the bowl. She took a peek inside and gingerly reached out when she realised it was filled with crisps. (Y/n) could feel her mood lightening and she smiled when she realised it was the smoked crisps she had been eating non-stop lately. Evan must have mentioned they were one of (Y/n)'s new cravings, something she wouldn't have eaten before she got pregnant.

"You found them."

"I have my ways." Maddie tapped the side of her nose before she found some plates and handed them over to Chimney so he could set the table.

"Go sit down, baby." Evan murmured against the shell of her ear and he gave her hip an affectionate squeeze before he moved to the side so (Y/n) could stand up properly again.

When she turned in the direction of the table, she felt Evan's hand on her hip and his other hand hovered in front of her, holding out the bowl of crisps. Maddie got them specifically for her. His hand moved down to squeeze her bum before she walked over towards the table.

Jee had vacated the living room and was now sat at the middle of the table, a colouring book and some pencils dotted around her. While her grandad was sat opposite her, trying to engage her in conversation.

A shooting pain tore through (Y/n)'s hip and down her leg when she eased down into one of the dining chairs so she could sit next to Jee. She took a moment to try and regulate her system and sat up straight against the chair to see if shifting her posture would help her feel a bit better.

"Want one?" She murmured softly to Jee and placed the bowl between them so they could both dive into the crisps.

When Jee handed (Y/n) a crayon, she obliged and began colouring with her, resting both elbows on the table and reaching out for a crisp every now and then. They both looked up and smiled when Chimney walked in and started setting the plates down around the table. Dinner would be ready soon so everyone would be sitting down and they would have to pack the crayons away.

He walked out the room and (Y/n) glanced her gaze across at Phillip, sat opposite her, but she didn't like the tepid expression on his face as he looked between her and Jee.

"I think you've both had enough."

A cold shiver ran through (Y/n)'s blood and she clenched her hand down on her thigh to stop from saying anything or letting another tear cascade down her face. Especially when Phillip reached across the table and pulled the bowl of crisps away from them both.

She didn't hide the unease or the distaste from her expression but she didn't bother responding. There was nothing she could say that wouldn't cause an argument and she didn't feel he deserved a response.

She wasn't a school child or a toddler like Jee and even if she were, Phillip was being unreasonable. A few crisps before dinner wouldn't do them any harm, it wasn't as if they had gone back for more handfuls. But it was the fact that he moved the bowl that unsettled (Y/n). It was a shrewd move and uncalled for, even Jee looked up in confusion. Her parents never took snacks away like that or chided her for eating.

"Let's put these away." (Y/n) packed up the crayons and the books just as everyone started to pile into the room.

She felt more at ease when Maddie and Chimney both sat down after putting the dishes down in the middle of the table so everyone could help themselves. Although it wasn't comforting to have both Phillip and Margaret sat directly opposite her.

She tilted her head back when Evan stood behind her chair and moved his hands to her shoulders. He leaned over her and pressed his lips down against her temple, smiling against her skin while his hands moved up and down her shoulders and along her arms.

"Do you want another drink?" His words were slightly muffled against her temple, but she heard him all the same. She reached behind her to pat his hip and give him a squeeze as she nodded against his lips.

"Please."

"I'll grab Jee a juice." He looked over at Maddie before he let go of (Y/n)'s shoulders and moved towards the kitchen.

(Y/n) tilted forward again once he'd let go of her but when she looked up, she found herself shrinking in her seat. Margaret was looking at her. She had her hands clasped in front of her, elbows planted on the table and her lips pressed together like she was studying (Y/n) for something. And when she looked across at Phillip, he had a similar expression.

Her father in law was slouched back, one elbow on the table propping his chin up while his other hand tapped against the table edge.

"Does he do everything for you?"

She could file bile rising at the back of her throat and her eyes switched to glance towards the kitchen. She wasn't quite sure if she was praying for Evan to walk back in and calm the situation or for him to hear that comment and shut his father down. But if he heard, it might cause problems and they were just about to eat.

It was even worse that she could feel both Maddie and Chimney looking at her, unsure what to say, only knowing that what Phillip had said was by no means fair or just.

He heard.

(Y/n) just knew Evan had heard because she could see the steely expression on his face and the way his jaw was grinding from side to side. Not to mention he was holding her glass so tightly it was about to splinter into pieces.

"I know how to treat my wife." Evan's response was sharp and his expression told his father not to argue with him. At all.

He set down (Y/n)'s glass in front of her and leaned over to hand Jee's beaker to her before he took his seat next to (Y/n) with Chimney on his right and his dad directly opposite him.

(Y/n) did her best not to start shaking or feel the need to flee the table and she felt a bit better when Evan leaned in front of her to take her plate and he began plating up for everyone. She leaned forward and pressed her face into his arm for a few seconds.

The conversation felt somewhat stilted but Maddie did her best to divert it into a different direction.

Once they were all eating, Evan slid his hand down to give (Y/n)'s thigh a gentle squeeze beneath the table. He didn't want her to feel uncomfortable, especially not because of anything his parents might say. But a smile tugged at his lips when (Y/n) held his wrist and moved his hand up from her thigh to press against her stomach.

The baby was lively today. Evan kept his hand there, feeling each movement and each way (Y/n) shifted from right to left, seemingly trying to get comfy or ward off some sort of unease.

(Y/n) wasn't too sure if she felt better or not after having something to eat, but at least she felt a bit calmer with Maddie controlling the conversation. She could still feel the baby moving though, and a few sharp twinges every now and then which felt worse every time she panicked and lit up with adrenaline.

Having Evan's hand constantly reaching out for her bump was comforting though. As if he couldn't be parted from her for more than a few seconds before he was back to touching her again.

"Who wants cake?" Maddie clapped when Jee started to giggle and nodded her head. "Let's go get some." She held her hand out for her daughter and guided her into the kitchen to get some cake and more plates to dish out for everyone.

Slouching a little in her seat, (Y/n) dropped her head onto Evan's shoulder and moved her hands to her stomach to see if it would settle the baby at all. She smiled, nuzzling her nose against Evan's neck and he turned in her direction and looped his left arm over her shoulders, keeping her pinned into his side.

She could feel his hand feathering softly up and down her arm and it made her smile, right until Maddie and Jee handed out slices of cake to everyone. She could feel Margaret looking over at her.

"Anymore snacks and you won't get out of that dress."

Evan's hand clamped down on her shoulder and he straightened up in his chair, glaring holes through his mother who clearly thought she hadn't said anything wrong or insulting at all.

"Why the Hell would you say that?" His free hand curled into a fist on the tabletop and he felt his nose curling as he glared daggers across at her.

Why did she have to do that? Why ruin a family meal that didn't happen often, and think that being insulting was okay? Why did she think trying to pick at (Y/n)'s self esteem was normal or that it wouldn't rile Evan up?

"What? I just think she should take it easy." Margaret waved her hand in (Y/n)'s direction and smiled so coyly as if this was a normal conversation or she had given (Y/n) a passing compliment rather than a rude remark.

"Really? You think a pregnant woman needs to watch what she eats?" Evan could feel his knuckles grazing along his jaw, rubbing back and forth to try and give himself something to focus on. He couldn't understand what planet his mother lived on. She had had three children herself, surely she couldn't believe that (Y/n) looked like she was eating too much or had to watch what she ate.

If anything Evan would be more concerned if she wasn't eating. He was happy she had an appetite considering in the first two months she barely managed to eat a thing.

"Well, yes-"

"Then I think you need to watch what you say to my wife."

"Alright, Jee let's go get some cream for this cake." Chimney held his hand out and waited for his daughter to toddle over to him, unaware of the situation unfolding at the dinner table.

Evan felt the shudder that rolled through (Y/n) and he looked down at her when her hand curled around his thigh. But he was dismayed when she pushed her plate away towards the middle of the table. Suddenly, she wasn't hungry anymore.

"Baby, no." His words tickled the side of her head as he kept his voice low and pushed the plate back towards her.

He didn't want her to feel like she couldn't eat when she was in Maddie's home and when she was rightfully eating her dinner. It wasn't right, but he felt his heart dropping down to his stomach when she shook her head and pushed it away again. She wasn't going to eat anything else. Not if she felt like she was being judged, and the atmosphere was making her too nervous to eat anymore.

Twisting in her seat, (Y/n) turned to Evan's side and pressed her cheek into his shoulder, looking away from the table. She moved her hand from his thigh to curve around Evan's torso so she was practically hugging him. She could feel her heartbeat pulsing in every inch of her skin and she hated it. She hated the sickness clawing at her throat and the tension building in her stomach.

"I don't feel great." She muttered quietly in Evan's ear, squeezing him tighter to try and get the silent message across.

She wanted to go home. She wasn't sure whether she was going to throw up or just feel awful for the rest of the afternoon, but either way, (Y/n) wanted to be in the comfort of their own home. She wanted to go home and curl up and pretend this had never happened.

She moved her hand from Evan's waist to his shoulder and her other hand moved to cradle the side of her stomach as she turned to look behind her at her sister in law.

"I'm gonna- gonna go sit through there." She could sense that Evan wasn't finished with this conversation, but (Y/n) wasn't waiting here to watch the argument unfold. She would sit out the way and try to calm down before she got ready to leave.

And when Maddie nodded understandingly, (Y/n) felt Evan's hands on her elbow and hip, helping her to her feet.

"Look, let's not get hormonal about this. Once the little one's here you'll see you're taking this the wrong way."

(Y/n)'s hand began to shake as she gripped Evan's shoulder once she was on her feet and she looked over at her in-laws. Phillip had made a similar remark once when they found out the baby was going to be a boy and (Y/n) disagreed with them and told them that they wouldn't name their baby after Daniel.

They had not been happy when (Y/n) said Evan had suggested naming the baby after Bobby, something (Y/n) agreed with. But the Buckleys thought (Y/n) was instigating it and putting 'ideas into Evan's head'. It didn't seem to be enough for them that they had inadvertently made Evan feel bad his whole life about not saving Daniel. But asking them to name their boy after the brother Evan owed his existence to was too much to ask.

It would only serve as a reminder of why his parents had already treated him differently. It would remind him that he could save hundreds, if not millions of people throughout his life, but for his parents, it would never make up for the fact that he didn't save the one person he was created to help.

"Funny, I don't remember you being there for most of Maddie's pregnancy, and I don't remember you making the effort with (Y/n) either when we told you about our baby."

"We're making the effort with you, Evan."

"You're making the effort to disrespect my wife and I am this close, to losing my temper with you. If you don't apologise soon, you can kiss goodbye to seeing your grandson."

Evan leaned forward, planting both elbows down on the table while he pinched his thumb and finger together to show how near he was to the end of his tether. If they kept this up and harassed (Y/n) any more, Evan would do what he had done before. He would cut his parents out of his life just like he did for over two years when he left home and went travelling.

Only this time, he wouldn't let them see or be around his son either. They wouldn't get close to Evan's baby if they were going to be disrespectful to (Y/n) and make her feel bad like this.

"Evan! You know we…" Whatever Margaret started to speel went in one ear and out the other for (Y/n).

She turned as if to walk away, hoping to get out of the situation and get away from them. But she stopped and latched her left hand tightly around Evan's neck, gripping him so hard that her nails started to pierce into his skin and made him jump.

He spun in his chair, looking up at his wife in confusion until he took in her stance. (Y/n) was stooped over, leaning forward with her right hand cupping her stomach and tears welling up in her eyes.

"Baby?" His hand moved to grip her wrist tightly and he twisted to try and stand up with (Y/n)'s hand still latched onto his shoulder. But he scraped his chair back and held his breath when (Y/n) whimpered and tilted her head down.

When Evan glanced down to see what she was staring at, his shoulders tensed and his body bristled at the sight of water trickling down her legs.

Her waters broke.

The tears started to trickle down (Y/n)'s face as she lifted her chin to stare up at Evan. The aching twinges in her stomach had turned into a throbbing cramp and her lower back was killing her; clearly this was why. The anxiety and stress of today and helped push her into labour. Thank God her due date was around the corner so this wouldn't cause any problems.

"Still think she's hormonal?" Evan didn't look at his parents for long before he looked back to (Y/n) as she leaned forward and pressed her face into his chest. He cupped the back of her neck and tilted his head down to kiss her head before he looked behind him at Maddie.

She was already on her feet and moving round to his side to help them both while their parents got up, shock splattered all over their faces.

"Okay, let's head to the jeep. We're going home." His thumb glided up and down the back of (Y/n)'s neck while he felt her hands moving to hold his arms.

They needed to head home and get their bags ready and time the contractions. They had to get ready and get everything in order before they went to the hospital to have their boy.

Evan spared his mother one glance when she tried to say something along the lines of 'we'll help you' but she stopped immediately at Evan's glare.

"I think you've done enough."

***

Tilting his head down, Evan pressed his lips to the top of his boy's head, unable to stop himself from smiling against the full head of hair resting on his chest. He had never seen a newborn baby with so much hair before.

He began gliding his left hand up and down his boy's back, grinning to himself when he felt the newborn nuzzling into his chest where Evan had undone the first few buttons on his shirt for skin to skin contact.

He slouched down in his chair a little, pushing his knees into the bed frame so his chest was tilted back to accommodate his boy a little better. He could feel each soft breath fanning against his chest and Evan was rather surprised that they had stayed like this for a while now, and his boy hadn't even woken or made one little whimper. He was completely settled in Evan's embrace.

For a few more moments, Evan trailed his hand in a soft motion up and down the newborn's back, loving the way his tiny legs were curled into his tummy, resting against Evan's abdomen. As if he thought he was still in the womb and had to be tiny and compact.

But he finally lifted his head when he felt (Y/n) lean over and nudge his thigh. She looked more awake than she did earlier. She had taken a nap after almost two days of labour finally ended and their boy was here. And while she slept, Evan had stayed cosied up to their baby.

He looked over at (Y/n) when she held her phone towards him. "Maddie and Chimney are on their way up."

(Y/n) knew Evan had texted them to say that the baby was here and everyone was doing great. He had told his sister she could come up whenever she was ready to meet her nephew, and she had just messaged to say they were here. But they both knew it was a maze in the hospital, especially the maternity ward.

"I'll go find them." Evan didn't want them wandering around the hospital, lost and going the wrong way trying to find them.

He carefully pushed up to his feet and moved to lean over the bed when (Y/n) motioned her arms out to him. ever so gently, Evan eased their boy into her arms and moved his hand to cup the back of (Y/n)'s head, kissing her temple lovingly before he made his way out the room into the corridor.

He headed out the corridor, round the corner and down towards the lift just as his sights set on Jee. The little girl bounded out of the lift, Chimney and Maddie in tow behind her as she clocked onto Evan immediately and ran towards him with a giant teddy held out in her arms.

Evan grinned from ear to ear and quickly bent his knees so he could scoop Jee up into his arms, squishing the teddy between them as he gave her a bear hug. He pecked her cheek and bounced her in his arms.

"Hi girly, is this for me?" He loved the cheeky way she giggled and shook her head, holding the bear tighter as if she thought Evan might just try and take it.

"No! Baby roo."

"Ooh." Evan kissed her cheek again, but the smile on his face dampened when he watched who walked out of the lift after his sister.

His parents.

"Think you can show daddy where the room is? Right round that corner, then right again, room 115."

Jee nodded eagerly, although Chimney was listening to the directions and he nodded. He walked forward, placing a hand down on his daughter's shoulder while the other hand gripped Evan's arm. He grinned up at his brother in law, something akin to affection swelling in his eyes.

"Congratulations, Buck." He murmured softly before he and Jee started their way down the corridor to find the newest addition to the Buckley family. Chimney had to calm Jee down over the past two days since they told her auntie (Y/n) was going to have the baby. She thought it would be an instant thing and was very eager to go down to see the baby. Now she was bubbling over with joy at being able to meet her cousin.

Evan watched them round the corner while he planted his hands down on his hips and turned to look at Maddie. He could see something in her eyes; they didn't need to have a verbal conversation for everything to pass between them.

She had tried. She had tried to tell their parents that coming down to the hospital wouldn't be the best idea with how they had acted towards (Y/n), but they had come down here anyway.

"How are they?" Maddie reached her arms up to loop them around Evan's neck, reeling her tall brother down to her height so she could give him a hug.

"They're doing great, he's seven pounds three." Evan smiled softly down at his sister and ran his hand up and down her shoulder for a few moments before he looked across at his parents.

They were smiling as if wanting to make peace, as if they hadn't done anything wrong the other day and caused problems for them all. If they hadn't of been so rude, (Y/n) probably wouldn't have gone into labour when she did. Her blood pressure wouldn't have been sky-high when they arrived. They might of had a calming family dinner, for once in their lives, and made some sort of peace, if only his parents could of been civil.

"Do you have a name?" Maddie kept her eyes focused intently on her brother, staring up at him so she didn't have to turn and see the hopeful look on their parent's faces. So she didn't have to see that look get wiped away when Evan talked to them.

His eyes set down on her and his expression softened as he nodded.

"Robbie."

They wanted to name him after someone important in their lives and Bobby was certainly someone important. He took Evan under his wing when he didn't have to. He was there for him in their personal lives, not just as an authority figure at the station and he had done everything he could for Evan over the years. Evan felt like Bobby was his father, he was closer to him than to his actual father.

Naming their boy 'Bobby' didn't feel quite right because things could get confusing, and neither of them quite liked Bob. But Robert would be his full name, like Bobby, and they would call him Robbie for short. It was a name that had quickly grown on them.

Evan liked the grin that spread across Maddie's faces, and a small sense of glee lit up his stomach when he watched the dismay plaster across both parent's faces.

"Can we see him?" The raw tone of Margaret's voice made Evan's skin bristle and he tried his best to hold his nerve and not simply back down like he used to do because it was always easier. He never argued or stood up to his parents until the day they told him about Daniel.

It always seemed the best option to just swallow down his thoughts and feelings and let them have their own way. But not this time. Evan wouldn't let them worm their way around him again.

"No."

He felt the way Maddie cringed and squeezed his arm before she ticked her head to the side. She didn't want to witness this argument and she didn't want to get involved either. This was Evan's choice, not hers. She felt Evan squeeze her elbow before she pulled out of his embrace and headed down the corridor to go and see their family.

Evan turned to face his parents, planting both hands down on his hips while he looked over at their aghast expressions and slack jaws.

"Evan, please. This is our grandson, don't keep him from us."

"He's with (Y/n), and I don't think it's a good idea to let you near her after what you've done. Do you?"

"We didn't do anything." The gritty tone in Phillip's voice made Evan clench his jaw and tighten his hands on his hips. They had some nerve trying to defend what they had said and done. They were all here in the hospital because of how they had acted towards (Y/n).

"You insulted her- more than once, and upset her enough to push her into labour. You couldn't say one nice thing to her all night, you just berated her every chance you got. And you haven't shown much interest in the pregnancy so why should I let you near either of them now?"

They didn't seem to have an answer for that, and for once, Evan was glad. He was glad they were listening rather than debating with him because he didn't want answers, he just wanted to explain and have them listen to him.

He ran his hand along his jaw and down the side of his neck before he stepped back, creating a bit more space between them all.

"I don't want you here. You're not going to see him, so you need to leave. We're fine without you."

His nails scratched into the back of his neck as he turned on his heels and walked away from them before he could see his mother start the water works or have them try to change his mind.

It was for the best; it was for his family. All they did was insult and become rude to (Y/n) and she had just gone through two days of labour. She didn't need them around to make her nervous about the way she looked or nervous in case they said anything else unbecoming to her.

And Evan didn't want them around his son if they were going to be so uncaring. They hadn't been bothered with them during the pregnancy, they didn't ask how (Y/n) was or how the baby was doing, they barely acknowledged that Evan was going to be a dad. So they couldn't try and play the doting grandparents now. Evan wouldn't have them around his boy, they had named him after Bobby for a reason.

He headed down the corridor, grateful he couldn't hear his parents walking after him. They were listening, they weren't going to follow and try to plead their case. Evan could go back into that room with a smile on his face, surrounded by his family. And the rest of his family, the team, would be coming down this afternoon to see them.

This was their time to enjoy the newest addition to their family.

[morverenmaybewrites]

Lessons on Love | Jason Todd x Reader

What lesson about love are they still trying to learn?

Asked by @/citrussaurus

Literally everything. 

I think that Jason’s experiences have shaped him into someone who has quite an unhealthy view on love and relationships: the lack of a positive example of a healthy relationship during his childhood years, the confusing (but not entirely loveless) relationship he had with Bruce Wayne, and eventually his years of rage and isolation as the Arkham Knight. 

By the time post-Arkham Knight rolls around, Jason has a deeply unhealthy view on love and relationships.

And yet, despite this, I feel like he craves this. More than that he’s starved for it. 

I think a part of him hopelessly, desperately wants to be held dear. He wants a place to belong, someone to belong to. 

And it’s his great tragedy that he doesn’t know how to ask for it and more importantly, he doesn’t know how to receive it. Sometimes, Jason loves so quietly that it’s hard to see it as love –because God knows that no one in his life ever taught him to properly communicate. 

I picture the way Jason seeks affection like a starved street dog: there’s a hunger to it, a thirst.

(After all, if you have spent your whole life being starved of something, isn’t it only natural to seek it out, even if it’s just the bare scraps? And here you are, willing to give him your whole heart.)

But there’s also a sort of tension, then animal instinct to flee after being kicked more than several times for it.

I picture him as always perched at the edge of things: waiting, waiting for the inevitable moment where the rug is pulled out from under him, when the affection you had always so freely given will suddenly be withheld, and he will be left starving again, a hole at the center of him that he has no idea how to fill.

(But oh you are worth the fall.)

But I always think of him as physically perched on things, especially on the early days of your relationship: the edge of towering skyscrapers, hovering in your doorway just barely stepping into your threshold until you finally have to ask him to come in, your windowsill, just barely keeping himself out of the rain. He’ll try to act relaxed, but really, he’s tense as a bird about to take flight. Always, always prepared for the moment where he’ll be asked to leave.

(And yet, and yet, all he wants is that you ask him to stay.) 

He doesn’t know how to show you affection, doesn’t know how to ask for it. All he’s ever known is how to make himself useful. 

(After all, useful things don’t get thrown away. Useful things don’t get asked to leave.) 

He’ll keep you safe, which in Gotham City is no small feat, keep the villains away from your door: from the small-time crooks who target regular civilians for just that extra bit of cash to the supervillains whose plans would likely involve you (and the rest of Gotham City) as collateral.

And at first, it’s eerie: the sudden silence in your life, the feeling of peace, of being looked out for. You have never gone so long without encountering some sort of mugger or been involved in a bank robbery.

Then perhaps one day, you’ll get a text from an unknown number, asking you to stay away from Gotham Square that day. When you try to call to get more information, it comes up as Unavailable. And perhaps a week after that, you’ll get a similar text from a different, this time telling you to avoid Bleake Island.

Perhaps you solve it quickly or perhaps, not at all and it takes you a while to put together the pieces: Jason has been keeping you safe. 

And when you decide to talk to him about it, he’s cagey, almost embarrassed. He won’t deny it, but at the same time, when you try to thank him or show you appreciate him, he’ll react with confusion. 

After all, keeping his loved ones safe is second nature to him. In fact, I feel like it’s the one act of love that all of the Bats are comfortable with. 

He’ll do other things for you too. He’ll get up and make dinner after a long day, despite having just come back from a grueling mission, he does the dishes without being asked, hell, he’ll sometimes even throw in a load of laundry for you–taking a an unexpected pleasure from seeing the way your clothes are mixed in with his, the simple solid domesticity of it, at how your lives have become so intermingled that he now has to separate your socks from his. 

In short, he’ll do acts that, while on the outside seem nice, would sometimes border on servile. 

When you try to show him how much you appreciate what he does, he’ll be even more embarrassed: there’s an odd tension around his shoulders, the slightest dusting of pink on his cheeks. 

(And oh, Jason hates the way he blushes, knows the way it discolors around the brand on his cheek, the way it doesn’t redden along with the rest of his skin, but instead stands out, ghostly pale.) 

So he’ll shrug it off, barely being able to look at you. Acutely aware of how strange and monstrous he looks.

And even more so, he’s painfully aware of the reason he’s doing these things. Not only because he wants to take care of you (and he does), but because it’s the only way he knows how to be useful, how to be needed. 

How to be asked to stay.   

[shadowdaddies]

I would love an Azriel x reader where they are friends and they have a conversation and Azriel’s scars come up. And he talks about how he hates them and always tried to hide his hands. Then the reader says something about how they find them sexy because all the textures and bumps would feel amazing in the bedroom. Then Az just flabbergasted because he never thought of it like that

Hi! Thank you for the request, lovely. Sorry this took me so long, I hope it is worth the wait.💜

Your Touch

Azriel x f!Reader

warnings: smut below the cut, oral f!receiving, allusions to past injury

Cool autumn wind blew gently across your face, blowing strands of your hair to tickle your cheeks as you stepped outside to the training ring. It was a quiet morning, too early for anyone else to be up, or so you thought. The sound of metal brushing stone drowned out the birds’ morning chirps, drawing you toward the source of the disruptive noise.

Azriel’s dark form contrasted against the light morning mist, the Shadowsinger’s large wings folded tightly behind him as he hunched over his treasured blade. Eyebrows furrowed with focus, Az sharply dragged Truth Teller along the whetstone with more force than usual. 

You were one of few who recognized the spymaster’s subtle tells, who knew when something was bothering him. The way he gripped his blade, scarred hands flexing with each purposeful stroke against the stone... With a flush you looked away just in time before hazel eyes flicked to you. 

It was a practiced dance, a rhythm that flowed in flawless agony each time you caught yourself staring at your best friend. That tug in your chest that pulled you to find him in moments like this also let you know when he could feel you - your eyes on him, your presence - but you would not let him feel your longing.

He was the most thoughtful, loyal male you had ever known, and nothing was worth risking losing his place in your life. So you looked away, time after time, in hopes of keeping him around in any way possible.

“You’re up early,” his warm voice rumbled, snapping you from your spiraling thoughts. Forcing your gaze to his, you thanked the Mother for the cool breeze disguising the blush on your cheeks. You smiled, watching the gold in his eyes shimmer as he offered a small smile back.

“I could say the same to you,” you countered, willing courage into your bones and urging them forward to find your seat next to Azriel on the bench. His wrist flicked blade against stone once more, sparks flying as he huffed a tense breath. “Please be careful, Az,” you murmured, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. “You’ll cut your hand,” you added, nodding to his other hand which held the whetstone.

A short, humorless laugh escaped him, no hesitation in his reply. “As if they could look any worse.”

You both grew immediately still, hearts pounding now louder than the birds in the trees, Azriel’s words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. You tracked how his throat rolled, another tell of nerves, of what he’d admitted.

“Azriel,” you whispered, taking the opportunity of his pause to reach for his arm as you looked into his eyes. You could see the emotions warring within them, the deep tortures of his past swirling, same as those thoughts eddied into darkness itself. “Your hands are beautiful.”

His eyes shuttered at your words, body tensing but not moving away from your reassuring touch. “Do not feel pity for me,” Az gritted out, his chest rising dramatically with unreadable emotion. “I know the hideous scars I have bared my entire life. Do not pretend they’re beautiful when I know they’re not.”

Something sparked inside of you at his words, as if the Mother herself propelled you to take his hands more firmly in yours. The intensity in your gaze drew Azriel from his stupor, his lips slightly parting as he looked at you in wonder.

“I do not ‘pretend’ anything about you is beautiful, Azriel. I know you are. And your hands...” You paused, allowing your gaze to drift to where you held him, his palms laid gently against your fingers. You stroked the skin there, the grooves and ridges surprisingly soft against your own. Earlier thoughts of those hands, how they might touch you, incensed your mind, leading your thoughts astray - for only a moment.

Azriel cleared his throat, drawing your eyes back to his own where instead of those earlier emotions, now lay a hint of mischief. “My hands...?” he questioned, brows raised in intrigue. 

No weather could disguise the burning of your cheeks now, no birds to drown out the nervous laughter that escaped you. “I, um... I think they are very nice,” you managed, dropping his hands and quickly shifting slightly away.

“They’re nice?” Azriel pressed, his curiosity only growing from your statement.

Breathless, you continued, something in your gut giving you the bravery to finally share a small part of what you felt for Azriel with him. “Yes, they’re... they would feel nice.” Panicked gaze finding his, you amended, “I mean, they do feel nice. Just now, when I held them.”

Azriel was now smiling down at you with an amused grin. “No, you said they would feel nice... What does that mean?” 

Fumbling over words, none came to you. Feeling like a rabbit caught in a snare, you prepared to run when those hands found yours. Azriel pulled you close, holding you in place more surely than gravity as one scarred finger ever so lightly traced your cheek. 

“Tell me where they would feel good,” he purred, voice low and commanding as you leaned into his touch.

“Everywhere,” you breathed. 

Instantly, Azriel’s hands were everywhere, grabbing any part of you he could as the two of you frantically stripped each other of your leathers. Laying you down against the training mat, Az’s black hair fell around his face as he grinned and lowered his lips to yours. Soft but precise, he knew exactly what he was doing as your body became aflame beneath his.

Lips and hands trailed down your body, leaving reminders of your pleasure in their path before he paused above your pussy, so warm against the cool autumn air. “I want to hear how good this feels,” Az murmured, giving no explanation before his finger barely grazed your clit, sliding down to your core. 

You had never felt more vindicated than in that moment, when reality proved better than fiction. Azriel’s warm breath fanned over your heat as he watched your reaction to his touch, finger slowly teasing inside of you before he added another. 

Your mewls and gasps echoed through the open air along with his name, giving Azriel satisfaction as his wrist flicked and curled his fingers, working you as expertly as his blade. The moment his lips touched your clit, you were gone. Back arched off the mat, you felt the cool breeze against your sweaty, writhing body. 

Azriel continued working you through your high, pulling his hand from your cunt to hold it in the light for the both of you to see. Studying the glistening coat of your slick on his fingers, Azriel hummed. “That is beautiful,” he murmured, before turning to lock eyes with you while he licked his digits clean, openly groaning at the taste.

Smirking up at him, you lunged to pull Az back towards you, eager to have your hands on him now, but the shadowsinger held your wrists, stepping back with a ‘tsk.’ 

“We’ll have time for that later,” he winked, tossing you your clothes. “Training starts in two minutes.”

Jaw slack, you prepared to argue with him when you heard the doors open, Nesta and Cassian’s voices echoing as you scrambled to get into your leathers before they could see. 

“Gods, it reeks of sex in here,” Nesta groaned, silvery eyes scanning until they landed  between you and Azriel. A brief smirk graced her lips before she muttered something that sounded like “finally,” smacking a chuckling Cassian on the shoulder and settling in on the other side of the training area. 

You looked to where Azriel stood in the spot where he’d just worshipped your body, gaze not shying away in the slightest from his satisfied smirk as you calculated the time until training was over.

[sorcerous-caress]

Early morning cuddling pt.2

[Fluff, wholesome, nb!reader]

[Halsin, Astarion, Shadowheart, Gale]

Part One

Halsin

You'd think that you married a fairytale princess by the amount of small animals you wake up each morning to, cuddling by your side and nuzzling against Halsin's warmth.

Not that he seems to mind. If anything, he seems the happiest sharing his bed with all those willing. His strong arm keeps a hold over you during the night, keeping you close and secure to his chest while he easily falls into a state of meditation. He prefers keeping the window open and listening to the wind outside, swaying of leaves and chipping of bird in the morning.

You did wonder what exactly does he think about during his meditation, and he confessed he replays his favourite memories. Reminding himself of what's worth fighting for in this life.

His palm cupping your face so gently, rough from centuries of tending to plants and magic practice. You can smell the earth embedded in his skin.

Who is worth fighting for.

If you're the type to sleep in during the morning, he happily indulges you as you cuddle closer to him. Resting your head on the rise and fall of his chest.

Letting the drumming of his heartbeat lull you into the land of dreams, just for a short while, maybe five minutes more.

feeling his hand draw circles on your back soothingly. You catch a glimpse of a whispered prayer to the father of nature, Halsin asking him to protect you, keep your soul and heart pure, keep you by his side for as long as this cycle of life allows.

♡

Astarion

You only realise the worth of love after having experienced solitude.

Astarion came to realise how much it meant to have someone just hold you in bed, nothing more, a simple body laying next to him in blissful sleep.

To have someone relish in your company so much, feel safe around him so much that you'd willingly want him to stay by your side while you were the most vulnerable.

It feels strange in his heart, a twing or guilt, even shame.

What did he do to deserve this?

How are you so peaceful next to a vampire? This isn't a camp on some ditch in the backside of Faerun anymore, this is your home that you've willingly and foolishly invited a vampire into.

But maybe he was the biggest fool, for he kept holding you close, fangs tucked away as the smell of blood was the least of his interests at this moment. The living really has a captivating way to steal one's attention.

what dreams do you have?

Each night is like a trance, and before he realises, it ends so suddenly when glowing lines of light just below the thick curtains peak on the floor.

It's morning already, but it felt like a second, he wants to hold you for a lifetime, hug you for a century, kiss you for a decade and whisper your name as if it was his last breath.

He wants so many things, he has so many conflicting emotions. Astarion doesn't want to get attached, you're fleeting, mortal, alive and so loveable.

And he is none of these things, at least not in his views.

But after so much misery, he deserves to steal one good thing from the living, you. It doesn't matter if he has earned it or not, you willingly chose him, loved him.

Embraced him as you woke up, eyes sleepy as nuzzled into him further with no regard to how cold his skin might be in contrast to your warm blanket.

"Darling, you know I'm supposed to be the nocturnal one in this relationship, right? Or did you grow fangs during the night." He voice was laced with an unusual softness, a stranger to his own ears.

You grumbled as he pulled away, chasing after him with adorable slow speed with your hand as you attempted to bring him back.

He's not a sadist.

Okay maybe he is.

But torturing a sleepy you, is becoming one of the highlights of his days. It makes waiting here all night worth it.

♡

Shadowheart

Her eyebrows scrunch into the most adorable glare when she first wakes up. The children of Shar and Selune have never been morning people, present or past.

The tips of her ears slightly twitch as the cold morning reaches her after you manage to steal the blanket in your sleep, wrapping the soft thing around you and leaving her to the mercy of the chilly weather.

Stirred from her sleep, she has a half mind to acknowledge how endearing you look besides her. Peacefully in your slumber and unaware of the crime you've commited, letting your beloved freeze to death in the early morning.

With a sigh, Shadowheart reaches over to untangle tha blanket edge from your iron fist as she squeezes herself inside the makeshift cocoon you've assembled. Instant warmth and comfort greeting her the more she pressed her body onto yours.

Despite how heavenly you feel, sleep has already evaded her grasps. Once she wakes up, she's the type not to fall asleep afterwards. Doesn't help how much of a light sleeper she can be at times.

So she closes her eyes and basks in the moment, fully enjoying the presence. The quietness of the morning where the people haven't woken up yet, the stillness of the air, the slow rhythmic breathing as your chest rises and falls.

She wants to trace your face with her fingers, she wants to admire your eyes, but she doesn't want to wake you up so instead her arms gently hug your body closer to hers.

Safety, comfort and love, things she was taught were a sin to desire, things assumed to make her weaker.

But being weak has never felt so good before, if what she's doing is wrong in the eyes of any god, then she might as well embrace her spot in the hells with your arms as her grave.

♡

Gale

He's changing you slowly, and you're not sure if it's for the better or worse.

What started as you teasing him over his cotton pyjamas with cat paw prints, turned into you wearing a matching one after he bought you one and sweetly coerced you into it.

You look so silly. You can't even deny it as you watch your reflection in the mirror. Watching in real time as your dignity evaporates into thin air while your lover is searching for his reading glasses under the bed by using magic to lift it in the back of the mirror reflection.

Turning around, you feel your lips tugging into a smile as you notice the pair of reading glasses pushed up on his head while Gale is scratching his said head and mumbling about how he just had it close by.

Where could it have possibly went, you wonder.

Calling him over, you watch as he adorable walks over to you with a hopeful look that you've somehow found his glasses like you usually do. As if you were the wizard in this situation who'd make it appear out of thin air rather than the academically acclaimed professor Dekarios in front of you.

Your hand cups his face, and he leans into it without question. Planting a small kiss on his lips, you lower his glasses back onto his face as you pull away. Gale's delighted expression rewards you with a second kiss, calling you his hero.

The two of you fall asleep with a dim light illuminating the room, stray magical star enchantments making the bedroom just bright enough for Gale's midnight reading, or midnight paper grading.

You either learn to tough it out or use that equally silly eyemask that came with your cat pyjamas.

Gale's usually the last one to fall asleep, except on weekends when he's in bed by 9. But since tomorrow, he has to be guiding the future generations of wizards in Faerun, you get his wandering hand playing with your hair or massaging your neck as you drift off to sleep.

By the time morning comes, he's tucked in a blanket by your side. Glasses crooked on his face for he forgot to remove them, again.

Reaching over, you gently take them off of him and set them on the bedside table. Giving his forehead a soft kiss as you check the time and see that you still have a quarter of an hour before he has to get ready to leave for work.

You wrap your arms around him, and he leans into your touch. Even while asleep, his body has complete trust in you, recognising your warmth and letting you cuddle him.

It would've been a very romantic early morning cuddling for the two silly people in embarrassing cat pyjamas, wasn't it for the scratching of paws on the locked door of your bedroom.

The sing-song yelling of Gale's last name following shortly, courtesy to Tara announcing to the whole world how you're a minute late to delivering her morning meal and the carrier pigeons outside are starting to look more and more like grilled chicken wings by the second.

[bizbat]

He Realizes He Loves You - JJK x Reader

~ Reader is implied to be under 6ft but appearance is otherwise not mentioned.

~ Reader is implied to be fem and is explicitly fem + afab in Toji's part.

~ Including: Toji Fushiguro, Megumi Fushiguro, Satoru Gojo, Kento Nanami, Suguru Geto, Choso Kamo, and Sukuna Ryomen (in order).

~ Feel free to request a character not included!

~ Smut included for multiple characters.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ Thank you to (@starlight5cat, @s0ph1a7, @koiromii, @totallydestiny, @local-hopeless-romanic, @dalis-raines,@ryosuku, @liargh, @llotusfeet1, @crustychoco, @cult-of-norman, @broccolihater80, @bringmethewolves, @sohstayshawol, @therealisttheillest, @midnightxsecretary, @skullzgarden, @tiatasha-01, @sardonyx005, and @dimpled-peach) for all the characters they suggested!

~ Cw: Creampie (Toji), Slight Anal (also Toji), Pet Names (also also Toji) :( Mild Groping (Choso), Slight Yandere/obsessive behavior (Geto)

He realizes he loves you.

Toji - Explicit Smut, Wc: 315

The way you're squeezing him like you don't want him to pull out, calling his name like a hymn, God he might just cum right then and there. He's losing his mind as his hips slam against your ass, his thumb in your other hole, gripping the fat of your cheek while using it as leverage to pull you pack onto him.

Fuck, have you always sounded so sweet? And have you always been this pretty? He can't remember. All he knows is that he's not sure he's ever felt this good. He knows he's not thinking straight when his hips stutter, his cock throbbing inside you, and instead of slowing down, he speeds up. If he was a bit more cognizant, he'd consider pulling out, but who is he kidding?

You're too sweet to him, he knew it from the day you met. If he was a less selfish man, he'd have walked out of your life the second he felt his pants tighten at the sound of your voice. But, he's thankful he's not less selfish. "Gonna let me cum inside ya, baby?"

But, at the end of the night, he can cum in any broad willing to spread her legs for him. The second he blows his load, he'll be heading out the door. He's done it a million times. Veni, vidi, veni. Sometimes he'll turn a one night stand to a two night stand, but he never does more than twice.

Wait, how many times has he been over to your place again? Nevermind, he's cumming now. He doesn't still his hips as the thick, creamy white substance spills out of your cute little cunt. But his brain is fried, so when your juices coat his thighs, and your fingers squeeze his forearms, all while pressing your glossy lips to his . . . How's he supposed to help himself?

"F-Fuck, love you baby."

~

Megumi - No Smut, Wc: 265

He's never been the type to "jolt" out of bed. He usually slowly comes to consciousness, his body acting as a natural clock. Tsumiki would always say he was the early bird of the two. It was always just his routine.

But today, for some reason, the second he wakes up he snaps up and out of bed, his back straight as an arrow. It takes a second for his brain to register why. It's you. Here you are, peacefully laying in his bed beside him, his sheets covering everything but your face. You must have fallen asleep here after you and the other first years had movie night.

His eye twitches as he considers what to do. He doesn't wanna wake you, you look like a little angel, granted, you have a bit of drool dripping out of the corner of your mouth, but an angel nonetheless! He doesn't wanna tell Gojo, lord knows he'd never let him live it down. He doesn't want the higher-ups to find out and get you in trouble.

His brain moves damn near a mile a minute as he thinks of possible solutions. If you were awake you'd probably tease him about the smoke coming out of his ears. His eyes anxiously dart across his room, as if something in there could possibly fix his problem-

Until you roll over, your arm limply draped across his lap. It's not really a problem, is it? Gojo can handle it, he thinks to himself as he slips back under the covers, letting you hold onto him as you sleep in.

~

Gojo - No Smut, Wc: 334

Satoru doesn't do it for praise. While the sound of his sweet girlfriend's voice thanking and complimenting him is practically music to his ears, it's not his sole motivation. He's not sure what it is.

Maybe it's the sparkle in your eyes when he gives you your favorite type of pastry, he went out of his way to visit your favorite bakery, even though it was out of his way. Or maybe it's how tightly you hold him when he brings you a new bottle of your favorite perfume, even though the manufacturer stopped selling it. Maybe it's the way you squeal his name with joy and surprise when he appears at your doorstep, a cute little kitten in his arms, a bright blue bow tied around its neck.

He's not sure. It could be all of them for all he knows. Don't get him wrong, it's more than enough to get him out of bed every day. But it might actually be the fact that you almost . . . disregard his gifts afterwards. Maybe that's not the right word, but you're so casual about everything (except the kitten ofc). The necklace he got you last month, the one with his and your initials inside of a gold heart? You wear it everyday. Never say a word about it.

The watch he dropped at least a band on, the one that has five sets of hands and tells the time in Japan and your home country? You keep that in its case next to your bed. In the entire time you've dated, he doesn't think you've ever asked him for anything material. Maybe to do the dishes or take out the trash

Maybe that's it, actually. The fact that you'd rather spend time with him. That you see him as the biggest gift of all, it plays into his ego, sure. But there's something different about the way you cherish him, versus how the world does. Regardless, the thought makes him smile, makes his heart swell.

~

Nanami - Mild Smut, Wc: 336

Nanami has a lot of regrets in life.

He regrets every missed opportunity, every untaken chance, every day he's taken for granted, when others have to struggle so much to get half as far. Sometimes, he worries the thing that will finally do him in is grief. He has nightmares about choking on all of his remorse, and his biggest fear is that the second he gets something good, he'll be too distracted to hold onto it. But he has no regrets about you. He can feel it, even when he was still a student. Nanami knows how special you are. He sees it in the way your soft hands hold his face every morning and every night. In the way your lips curl and your hips wiggle in a little dance when you eat your favorite food. In the way your voice always rasps a small "good morning, my love," even before your eyes have opened.

God, you're special to him. And he knows better than to let you get away without knowing that. So when he has you in his arms, naked as the day you were born, your eyes tired and your skin sticky, he lets you know. He leans down, his nose pressed into the crook of your neck, his lips just barely ghosting against your skin. He thrusts his hips gently, your soft smile and tiny moans encouraging him. He doesn't need to realize he loves you, he already knows that, but until now, right this very second, he didn't realize he was in love with you. And it hits him like a truck. He hadn't realized that your laugh is his favorite sound in the world, that he could eat your cooking until the day he dies, that you could scream at him for hours and hours, and he'd still think you had the voice of an angel.

But God, you're special. He mumbles into your collarbone, something he's always ment, but never fully grasped. "Ngh~ God, I love you."

~

Geto - Implied Smut, Wc: 352

You're so blessed. You have his head resting in your lap, his hair loose as your fingers card through it, his robes barely hanging onto his muscled form. He's so beautiful, you can't believe you're only getting to see him up close now. His dark eyes stare penetratingly into your soul, his soft smile making your heart feel like it's on fire.

He has invited you into his personal quarters, the familiar scent of sage, and oils wafting through the air. It wasn't uncommon for him to invite someone to his room, just to keep him warm or entertained, not that it was frequent, but it wasn't like it never happened. To say that this wasn't what you had expected upon first entering, would be an understatement.

You had introduced yourself to him, bowing at his feet as you began stating your name and how long you'd been a member, only for him to interrupt you, listing information you didn't even know he knew about you, information you didn't even know about you. You sat there on your hands and knees, mouth agape in surprise, until he placed a hand under your chin, gently closing your mouth and guiding you to your feet. You didn't think to question it, of course your lord and master knew everything about you.

He pulled you deeper into the room, going into detail about how you had caught his eye the moment you had begun worshiping him and his ideals. He explained his plan for you to lead alongside him, become his bride and second in command, only if you wanted to, of course. It was a big responsibility, hundreds of people suddenly bending to your every whim. Not to mention his two wonderful daughters.

But why would you ever say no? How could you possibly deny the prospect of being his wife- Geto-Sama's wife!? So here you are, your own robes just as loose as his as you carefully stroke his long, inky locks. You're so beautiful, he's truly blessed to have such an obedient, loving little lamb in his flock, finally, all to himself.

~

Choso - No Smut, Wc: 282

He's happy he has you here. Sat in his lap, the glow TV illuminating your pretty face, his hands up your shirt. The only thing that could make this better would be if his brothers were here, though, perhaps it's better if they aren't. He does appreciate the intimacy of it just being you and him.

He can't help himself from looking up at you, paying attention to the way you mindlessly chew on your lip. It makes his own lips part with desire. "Can-can you kiss me again?" He lightly squeezes your chest, his fingers tightening around the black lace bra under your shirt.

His curious, pleading eyes are too hard to ignore. He moans into your mouth, one hand groping your breast, the other gently holding your tummy. He rests his head on your shoulder when you finally pull away, a nervous smile on his face, he's still learning how to do it right, he hopes you don't mind. Actually, he knows you don't.

If anything, you love it. He can tell by the way you hold his cheeks when he does it, the way you giggle and kiss him more and more just to see it widen. He wants to do that for you. He wants to hold your cheeks and giggle when you smile and kiss you to see you do it more.

His heart erratically beats in his chest as he impulsively reaches out, turning your face and holding you still while he presses messy kisses to your lips. He doesn't stop the barrage of pecks when you ask him what he's doing. He just smiles. And that makes you smile. And that makes him smile more.

~

Sukuna - Implied Smut, Wc: 266

If you were to ask him about it, he'd laugh in your face. Sukana cares for no one, he does not love, he does not enjoy anyone's presence, he does not feel warmth in his chest when you kiss his cheek. Absolutely not. Never. You'd be foolish to think otherwise.

You may be his favorite concubine, who he always lets lay with him in bed after he's had his fill. Who he lets run her fingers through his hair during bathtime. Who he makes sure is seated on his lap at all times. But that does not mean he likes you. It just means he finds you tolerable. Yes, that's it.

He finds you tolerable, at most, and that's generous, even, so there you go, there's your answer. Only, you didn't even ask to begin with. You said "Good morning, my lord," and here he is, going on a rant in his head about how much he doesn't love you. Shit. He's in deep. Far too deep for anyone of his standing, and it's too late for him to pull himself out of this eternal abyss.

Curse you, wench, for having such control over him, unwittingly at that. Who do you think you are? With your adorable face, and your soft hair, and your nice smell-Wench! Mark his words, he may be steadfast in making you his bride, and disposing of any other concubines that expresses too much jealousy, and keeping his palace decorated in a way that you would find flattering, but he is not in love with you by any stretch of the imagination.

[vaaaaaiolet]

Alarm clocks are a little pointless in the Kennedy household, no thanks to your husband's perplexing sleep schedule. What's the rhyme to his reason? Or rather, who?

gn / m, just domestic fluff w/ older married leon of your choice (di leon is personally so husband), pretend i'm funny, animals?? for some reason LMFAO, leon hates sleep

word count: 474 // read on ao3

a/n: tiny drabble for @l1terallylaroxy w/ love <3 yes i was listening to snooze by sza what gave it away. the entire fic? oh okay.

find all my drabbles in my collection: sketches for my sweetheart the drunk!

The dip your mattress developed overnight makes for a better alarm clock than the one sitting on your nightstand. You still check to not hurt its tiny mechanical feelings.

5:30 AM. Leon’s come home.

A roll of your shoulder puts you face to face with your sleeping hill of a husband. You can’t help stifling a laugh at the haphazard way he’d fallen into bed, practically breathing in his pillow as he snoozes away with his stomach pressed to the sheets and an arm slung heavy over your waist. Leon is a staunch back sleeper – you catch earfuls about sleeping on your stomach from him all the time, but here he is, Mr. You-Need-to-Reduce-Pressure-on-Your-Spine, in all his morning glory. He’s lucky he happens to be married to the pinnacle of benevolence.

You simply file away the blackmail for later.

A groan eventually sounds from the mess of blankets Leon’s entangled himself in, something akin to, “Gmmff...mmff, bah.”

Definitely talking in his sleep. You’re half-asleep yourself. Anacondas wrap you closer – no, Leon wraps you closer when he finally blinks awake.

“What’d you say?” you chuckle.

“...said g’morning, baby,” your husband yawns.

Dawn blushes the ivory sheets pink, blooms roses in your cheeks when he presses a kiss to your shoulder mumbling something sweet: “G’back to sleep. Don’t wanna wake you up.”

And then he does something crazy. Leon starts rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and sitting up like he’s getting ready for the day, fully at five in the morning like he didn’t just crash into bed after a graveyard shift at the DSO.

It’s insanity. “You’re waking up already?” you squawk, sitting up with a full eight hours in contrast to his abysmal five. “The sun’s barely up, Leon, you just got home.”

“The alarm’s going to ring in a second anyway. Early bird gets the worm, right?”

Worms be damned, you grouch. You cling to his back, tucking your chin into the side of his neck while he ruffles your hair.

“C’mon, ya koala. I gotta shave,” Leon gripes, too sugary to have any effect.

You pout. “So eager to leave me already?”

“Baby. You’re breaking my heart.” He clutches his chest with a theatrical gasp. “What a thing to say!”

He huffs long and loud, and the anacondas return to snake over your back this time as you try and keep from laughing at the stupidity of it all. You’re in the air before you know it; carried piggyback style to the bathroom as Leon lifts the one burden in his life that isn’t really one in the slightest. You can kick your legs all you want, but he’s not letting go.

Every waking second with you is a blessing he’s not willing to give up. So why would Leon want to hit snooze and miss the moment?

click for my full drabble collection, and find more of my work here!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated <3

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Like Lovers Do

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You and Daemon would dream about marrying each other before both of you became victims of political marriages, very much against your wills: he was sent to the Vale and you to the Riverlands. However, when your lord husband passes away, you return to King’s Landing, only to find out that your childhood sweetheart is now wearing a crown of his own.

A/N: I am finally back for the Daemon x reader fics, you lovely people! I hope you still remember me after that loooooooooong gap... Anyways, I once again wrote too much and couldn't even get to the point I was heading - I intended this story to be a one-shot but it seems I will be writing another chapter for the spicy stuff ;) I hope you enjoy it! (I am also open to any Daemon requests you might have for me!)

Warnings: I am not a native English speaker, strong language

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina

You had almost forgotten the way his voice sounded.

Fourteen long years had it been, the last time you were given the privilege to let your eyes wander on his handsome face as long as they desired.

You had expected time to have changed you in all the possible ways anyone could ever imagine, the years you had spent at the Riverlands being no different than a bird in a cage did harden you to your very core; however, the moment his sweet voice reached your ears again, you felt yourself melting just as you did when you were six-and-ten.

For the first time in fourteen years; for the first time after you had left King's Landing, you were feeling the warmth in your heart again, waking up from its deep slumber, melting the frost that used to be your heart.

At first, you hadn't even believed it when you heard the whispers roaming the castle about the return of the Rogue Prince.

"Prince Daemon is back," the whispers had said, "and he is wearing a crown."

King of the Narrow Sea? You had thought to yourself, following the crowds into the Throne Room. Is he going to challenge his brother now? Have the years turned him completely mad?

And now, you were watching him, King of the Narrow Sea, give up his crown to King Viserys.

He really is back.

After the ceremony in the Throne Room was over, the Royals and the Small Council moved to the Godswood to celebrate the Prince's victory over the Triarchy. You weren't quite sure whether it was expected of you to join them; however, upon seeing the way your father looked at you, you decided to follow them. Your heart was racing as if it was trying to break free from your chest.

Your father's position in King Jaehaerys’ and after him King Viserys’ Small Council had allowed you an easy, enjoyable life within the walls of the Red Keep, allowing you to share the early years of your youth with Prince Daemon, growing up alongside him.

Until he decided it was time for you to marry a rich lord and be shipped to the Riverlands, of course. You had known long before your father made his decision that you would, sooner or later, have to marry someone - preferably some lord from one of the Great Houses.

However, you had expected your father to come to you with this delicate matter first, instead of shaking hands with the lords as if he was doing some kind of trade.

"I do not care about some stupid lord in the Riverlands," you had told your father upon hearing the terrible news about your future. "I am going to marry Prince Daemon, Father. How can you even begin to compare him with any other man in the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Prince Daemon is going to the Vale," your father had responded in a cold voice. It made you realize he had wished for you to become the Prince's wife perhaps even more than you yourself had. "It has been decided that he is to take Lady Rhea Royce as his wife." Upon seeing the tears beginning to form in your eyes, your father had held your hands. "I am sorry, my sweet girl, but there is no other way."

Even though you had known all these years, deep down, that your father's only wish was for you to have an easy, wealthy life (and at the meanwhile keeping his good connections, and establishing relations with the strong houses), the anger you had been feeling never really faded away.

Yes, you had led a wealthy life for the last fourteen years; however, being the second wife of a (compared to your six-and-ten self) fairly old lord had taken all the happiness you had ever known from you. It was almost as if you had forgotten how to enjoy life...

After arriving at the Godswood - since the Red Keep was enormous, it always took ages to get from one place to another - you too poured yourself a glass of red wine as you stood beside your father. King Viserys and some other members of the Small Council were talking with Prince Daemon, mostly about the war against the Triarchy.

Somehow, it seemed like Daemon didn't even notice you were there, maybe he didn't really recognise you after all those years - you couldn't say.

Until King Viserys saw you standing next to your father, the Master of Coins.

The King's face lightened with a bright smile as he turned his eyes to his younger brother, placing his left hand on Daemon's shoulder. "Brother, you surely remember Lord Beesbury's lovely daughter," the King spoke with a delightful tone. "She has, too, recently returned to King's Landing."

The world froze around the two of you when Daemon's purple eyes met yours. Every other person standing there with you faded away, and all the other sounds melted into silence until it was just you and him, the same memory playing in front of your eyes.

"I am going to make you my Queen one day," Daemon whispered in your ear. "I promise you."

You were out at the Godswood, sitting under the moonlight - both of you had to be around sixteen, it was shortly before the calamity that was your marriage.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction. "So you plan on winning me and the Iron Throne?" You asked him, only to earn a cocky smirk.

"You would be surprised to see what I am capable of, my Lady."

I have seen what you are capable of, my Prince, you thought as you came back to reality. You were breathing heavily. Capable of winning a war without the support of the Crown, earning your very own crown - but you still gave it up to your brother.

To prevent the awkward silence from getting any longer, Daemon quickly wore his famous smirk as he nodded at the King. "Of course, how could I not," he spoke with a charming aura surrounding him. Taking a step towards you, the Prince held your right hand gently and brought it to his lips. "It has been many years, my Lady." The Prince told you. "Though, it is somewhat unfair that the years have not touched your beauty, not in the slightest."

The poker face, which only showed a humble smile fitting of a lady of your position, would never give away that you were, in fact, dying inside. Feeling his lips and his touch for the very first time in fourteen years had hit you like a wall of bricks.

"You flatter me, my Prince," you spoke with your best I-am-a-noble-lady tone. "Congratulations on your victory."

Before continuing the conversation with his brother and the other Lords, Daemon gave you a small nod - only you realised that he had allowed his eyes to linger on your face longer than they needed to.

[Time Skip}

"I wasn't expecting to see you here again, after all those years."

Hearing his velvet voice, you raised your head to look at Daemon, who was standing to your right. Fixing your silver dress and crossing one leg over the other, you waited for him to continue speaking.

"Why aren't you at the Rivenlands?"

You raised an eyebrow at the Prince as you responded while mimicking the same cocky tone he always used. "Why haven't you been at the Vale all those years?"

The edge of Daemon's lips curled upwards as he shook his head, he was wearing a red, long-armed tunic under his long, black cloak - proudly carrying the colours of his House. "Your attitude hasn't changed even in the slightest, love."

You rolled your eyes at him, keeping your attitude, not letting it falter under the heavy weight of the love your heart still carried for him. Of course, it would have been a lot easier to give into your heart's whispers and welcome him with arms wide open; however, you had grown overmuch furious with him over the years.

First and foremost, he had broken off every damn contact with you at an instant as soon as you had left King's Landing. You haven't heard from Daemon for fourteen years. News and gossip about his doings had reached your ears, of course, but not from Daemon himself.

And second, it had hurt you too fucking much when you saw he had done nothing to fight for your love. As the Prince, he could have had more of a say in the matter than you, but all he had done was tell you goodbye and disappear into the night. That was the last you had seen of him, fourteen years ago.

At first, you had thought that perhaps, Daemon had found the idea of marrying Lady Rhea Royce more appealing than marrying you. Until the news had reached the Riverlands about the Rogue Prince's failed marriage - not long after, he had returned to King's Landing, never to visit the Vale ever again.

Rhea Royce had never been what Daemon desired, and apparently, you too - else, he would have at least tried to find a way to arrange something, anything.

Placing your hands on your lap, you asked. "Can I be of further assistance to you, my Prince?"

"You can start by providing me with an answer, my Lady," Daemon said, arching an eyebrow in your direction. "Why did you return to King's Landing? Has your lord husband got a place in the Small Council now?"

"He has passed away," you spoke with a low voice while playing with your fingers. "A few months ago."

The Prince licked his lower lip. "I would wish to offer you my condolences, love," he spoke, "but I have never liked the sight of that cunt."

Your eyes widened with shock upon hearing his words, you hissed between your teeth. "Seven hells, Daemon!" The Prince shrugged in a careless manner. "Show at least some respect to the dead!"

"Will you be staying here?" he asked, earning a nod from you. "Why not stay at the Riverlands?"

This time, you turned your eyes away - his intense gaze was making you feel dizzy. "There is nothing for me there, at the Riverlands. My late husband's eldest nephew holds the Lord title now." Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward to pour yourself some wine. "You see, we didn't have any children to inherit my late husband's position, hence there was no more need for me."

Upon feeling Daemon's hand closing on top of yours, you quickly raised your head to look at him. Gently, the Prince took the carafe from your hands to pour you a glass of wine. With slow movements, he handed you the glass.

"I thought the whole idea behind you marrying that old man was to provide him with heirs," Daemon spoke, his purple eyes lighting with curiosity. He didn't even explicitly ask about the reason behind the failure but you could easily read it from the way he looked.

"We did try, for years, but..." Taking a moment, you took a big sip from your wine. "He could have tried with a dozen other women for another ten years and it still wouldn't have changed anything."

Daemon pursed his lips upon understanding the meaning behind your words. "I see, this explains why he didn't have any heirs from his first marriage, too." You nodded. "Good riddance, should I say now? At least you are free from that burden of yours."

"As if you cared about me or my burden," you snorted. Upon seeing the confused look inside his eyes, you first drank your half-empty glass - all at once - and then stood up. Raising your head, you looked Daemon in the eye, your faces standing dangerously close to each other. "It has been fourteen fucking years, Daemon," you spoke with a low voice but still, your fury could be heard in every word. "And not one fucking raven from you. You just walked away from my life, as if I meant nothing to you!"

Towards the end, your tone tended to become higher, thus you took a deep breath to keep yourself under control. From the corner of your eye, you could see Queen Alicent and your father taking a curious look in your direction.

With his left hand, Daemon held you firmly on your right wrist as he whispered, looking down at you. "You meant everything to me," he put emphasis on each word. "Don't you dare act as if you don't know it."

Your chest brushed against his with every breath, you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. At that very moment, the only thing you wanted was for Daemon to push you against the stone wall behind you and kiss you until you couldn't remember your own name anymore.

With slow movements, Daemon leaned into your ear, his warm breath brushing against your neck. You didn't even realise you were pressing your lips against each other - your breaths were heavy, your head felt dizzy and you slowly got drunk with his smell surrounding you.

"Do you have any idea," the Prince whispered in your ear, his voice full of sex appeal. You could melt right then and there, inside his arms. "How many nights I have spent, thinking about you?"

Back then, when you were both young and in love, Daemon had never touched you other than sharing small kisses (and rarely not-so-small kisses) for you wanted to wait until marriage.

In retrospect, you believed your younger self to have been too naive and, well, young - after seeing one could in fact do whatever they desired as long as it was discrete enough.

Now, all the lust and desire you both had been bottling up for years came to the surface.

Holding onto the last bits of your will, you took a step back, putting some visible distance between Daemon and yourself - so that you could think clearly once more.

"Then why," you asked, your voice sounding weaker than you wanted it to. "Why did you disappear from my life?"

The Prince cast a quick look at the curious people around you - some of the council members seemed kind of interested in your conversation with Daemon since they were sending curious looks in your direction every other second.

Muttering something under his breath - he was probably cursing at the nosiness of the people - Daemon quickly put on one of his most charming smiles. "Perhaps the lady would like to grant me the honour of dining with her this evening," he spoke with his velvet-like voice as he took your hand and brought it to his soft lips. The mild wind was causing his silver hair to sway ever so gently. "Where we can discuss further, as long as she likes."

Your heart skipped a beat.

Of course, you knew what his true intention was. This invitation was more than just a dinner where you could both scream at each other about the fourteen years you have lost - it was also to make up for all that time.

Your brain was shouting at you, telling you that you were making a big mistake - the Prince was still married, even though his marriage had been a bigger failure than yours - but your desires were stronger.

"I would love to, my Prince." The words left your lips before you could even think.

Daemon winked at you before leaving Godswood. "I will be waiting for you in my chambers, love."

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roommates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: oral smut, sexual comments, awko moments, kissing?

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6- part 7 - part 8 - Part 9!!

————————

It was the best night of sleep John price has ever had in his life. He wishes deeply his early bird tendencies hadn’t woken him from it. You lay facing opposite of him with his chest pressed snuggly up against your back spooning you. He thought he was dreaming at first, or maybe he died and went to heaven, but your steady breathing and warm skin was much too authentic for that. 

He gently brushes the hair from your neck to kiss at the smooth skin, not in means to wake you, simply cause he just can’t help himself. 

“Goodmorning.”

“Didn’t mean to wake you.” He says while peppering kisses up to your jaw.

“Are you sure?” 

“Not anymore.” You turn over in your spot to face him, he’s a big man, a wall, even as he lays down. He peers down at you as you place a hand on his cheek. 

to your misfortune he’s borderline obsessed. 

“Shower with me?” He asks.

“Sure.” He pulls you with him as he rolls to get off the bed. He’s about to walk into his bathroom to get it started when he realizes you're about to walk out of his room.

“Where are you going?”

“To get my shampoo and conditioner.” 

“I have shampoo and conditioner.” You laugh, confusing him.

“John, I'm a hairstylist, I wouldn’t be caught dead using head and shoulders. I’ll be back.” He watches you leave, still not completely sure what you mean by that.

When you return steam has already filled the roof of the bathroom. You carry your toiletries in both your arms trying not to let anything drop. 

When John takes notice he goes to help you, except you’re not focused on the help he’s offering, you're focused on his bare chest, strong arms and slightly soft belly.

“There will be time for staring doll just not right now.” He says plucking your stuff from your hands. You roll your eyes at him trying to suppress the blush climbing up your neck. 

He undresses fully and steps inside waiting for you to do the same. Suddenly you feel awfully nervous while lifting your shirt. You pause when it gets to your rib cage suddenly feeling self conscious.

“You okay?” He notices your absence and peeks out of the glass door.

“Uh yeah.” You say, willing yourself to pull it over your head. Your pants come off next and you pray soap gets into his eyes so he doesn’t really look at you. 

You step in trying to keep your eyes on his out of politeness even though it feels like your eyes are magnets and the other magnet is in his southern region. He turns the two of you so you're the one mostly under the shower stream. His lustful gaze can’t help but look at the way the water runs down your shoulders and over your breasts.

“You’re shameless.” You say to him with a smile, you couldn’t feel self conscious under a gaze like that.

“Very.” He replies while leaning in for a kiss. He’s awfully warm, the shower at a temperature you like and one he’s not used to, but he couldn’t care less as long as he gets to have you like this. 

“Can I wash your hair?” You ask.

“If you let me wash yours.” You hum in agreement, grabbing your overly expensive bottle of shampoo and pouring some into his hands. You tell him to lather it in his hands before he puts it in your hair and he entertains it even though he bets it does nothing. Lacing his fingers through your hair he watches the way your shoulders relax and your mouth slightly parts. He tries to stop it, really he does, but he can’t help the way his cock begins to harden. He prays you don’t notice, not because he’s insecure, it’s a totally normal human reaction, but because he doesn’t want you to think he can’t enjoy a wholesome moment without getting turned on. 

“Feels good.” You sigh out as he begins to rinse it out. A groan is threatening to spill out and with all his might he is fighting it. 

When you open your eyes you notice the stone cold expression on his face. The way it looks like his eye slightly twitches for a second. And just like his human tendencies have troubled him yours too make you look down to see what may be the biggest dick in your life resting against his lower stomach. 

You look back up quicker than you looked down and it seems he hadn’t noticed. 

“Your turn.” You say scooting closely by each other so now he stands under the water. 

“I’m going to use my shampoo so you can see the difference.” You say as you pour some in your hands. It’s a bit of a reach to get all of his head so he slightly lowers it for you. You run your slightly long fingernails on his head scratching soothingly. He groans at the immensely good and foreign feeling as you make sure to not miss any hair. 

When you’re done he begins to rinse and this is the chance you take to really look at him from head to toe. Do you feel a little perverted, yeah you do.

“Look who has the staring problem now.” If John’s going to do anything he’s going to own it. 

“Who?” You say as you stand on your tip toes for a kiss. He gladly obliges, holding your head at an easier angle for him. You place a hand on his chest, which is normal, nothing that’d raise suspicion. Until it starts slowly dragging down his body. 

He's pulled apart from your swollen lips carefully watching your fingers continue to trail down. When they reach his happy trail you hesitate.

“Go on.” He says softly.

Your fingers softly brush against the soft velvety skin of his awfully gorgeous cock. Your mouth instinctively watering at the sight, and his falling open at the tease.

You grip him in a mostly closed fist giving a gentle squeeze. His hips jolt slightly forward as a pearl of precum appears at the tip. Impatiently you swipe the pad of your thumb over it bringing it to your lips. You sigh softly at the salty taste, spitting into your palm you bring your hand back down to his cock. You give him a firm stroke as your hand slightly shakes. His groans and shut eyes encourage you to continue. You find a steady pace as your hand dedicates itself to providing him pleasure. He tries to control his breathing but it loses its pattern when you quietly moan at the way it twitches in your grip. 

“You're so pretty.” You say quietly.

“Me or my cock?” He sighs out breathlessly 

“Both.” 

“Can I try my mouth?” You ask kindly he chuckles not humorously simply cause he can’t believe this is real life.

“I mean I don’t have too.” You say suddenly which he objects too.

“No, please.” He says watching the way your eyes light up. You waste no time lowering your knees onto the tile floor not caring about how they might hurt later on. 

You grab him eagerly, in your lustful subconscious nature you paint your lips with the tip. He squeezes his eyes closed to try and calm himself down but you’re doing nothing to help his case. 

“I’m losing it up here doll.” He says while leaning a hand against the wall for support. You begin to lick and suckle just to get comfortable, planning a course of action in your head.

Then you take him fully into your mouth bit by bit. His girth causes the dry corners of your mouth to slightly crack. Your eyes close as you try to focus. The sounds of slurping as you try to take him fully is sinful. He watches drool run down your chin and water droplets fall down your whole body almost cinematically. 

“You’re a sight.” He groans out when you pull him from your mouth to simply kiss from base to tip. It’s never been done to him and he would’ve never thought of it, but after that he’s not sure anything else can occupy his mind.

You suck him back in, determined to make him come. You might just want it as much as him. You're putting in your best work, ignoring the ache in your jaw. He has a hand on your cheek stroking the tears that fall from your eyes away. He tries to stop himself from thrusting into your mouth as your hand on his thigh flexes subconsciously. 

He’s so close but is greedily holding it in to keep his cock in your mouth for a bit longer. Your eye lashes bat up at him to watch his slackened features grunt and moan your name. With lidded eyes he watches the hand that once rested on your thigh slide down in between your legs, as you moan into him when he sees the way you slightly part them to give yourself an easier access.

“Mmmf fuck.” You hadn’t expected it quite yet, lost in your pleasure and his. 

He pulls from your mouth as his cum splashes onto your lips, cheek and for his personal pleasure your breasts. When he’s done he pulls you from the floor, sucking your slick fingers into his mouth with a satisfied groan before kissing you long and hard. It’s a mix of you and him as he pulls your tongue into his mouth. His thumbs rub his spend into your cheek like it’s a facial cream as he looks in your big eyes. 

“Shall we finish this elsewhere?” He says with a hand resting on the curve in your waist.

“As much as I’d love to, we can’t, I have to go grocery shopping and have to buy and restock some things at work.” You say with a small smile.

“But you haven’t gotten to finish?” He says with a little discontent.

“I don't need to.” You say giving him another quick kiss.

“That’s crazy.” 

“Make it up to me another time?” 

“Oh, yes” he couldn’t have been quicker with his answer.

“Very well then.” You laugh, grabbing your loofah which he plucks from your hands to pour soap on. He washes you tenderly, kissing every spot of your skin he swipes the sudsy soap over. He can’t help the way his eyes threaten to water at how ethereal you are to him. Call it the post clarity or whatever you want but he wants to put you in his pocket and take you everywhere. 

He doesn’t let you reciprocate the favor but does let you wash his back when the time comes. He leaves the water on for you as he steps out to grab his towel. When he returns with yours you turn it off and wrap yourself in it. 

You dress right then and there in the clothes you brought to his bathroom so you don’t have to suffer the cold. Grabbing your hair dryer to plug it in telling John to watch out for the noise. He dresses quickly and goes to the bathroom standing beside you at the his and hers sink. 

He puts on his beard oil keeping in mind that it’ll need a trim sometime this week. After that he just stands there and watches you do your thing. Admires the fact it’s being done in his bathroom. 

“May I join you?” He says amongst the noise. You click off the hair dryer after asking him “huh” for the second time so he repeats himself a third. 

“Of course.” You smile feeling a little giddy at the fact you’ll have his company. John’s not a man who seems to like to go out much nonetheless shopping. 

“Be ready in twenty?” He asks. 

“Yeah I’m just going to finish drying my hair and put on some makeup.” He nods, walking up to you to kiss your cheek before heading outside for a quick smoke.  

When you’re done he’s sitting on the couch watching whatever is on the news. You call for him from the front door and hear the silence from him clicking off the tv and his footsteps begin to approach you.

“Can I drive?” You ask hopefully.

“No.” 

The weather is beginning to become more livable and sunny. You settle into the seat as he shuts the door and gets in himself. Your hand rests above his on your thigh as the radio hums music. There is something so dreamlike about the feeling he has around you. Like the air is smoother and easier to breathe. 

“Where are we stopping first?” He asks, breaking the comfortable silence.

“My work so I can see what I need, beauty store, then groceries.” 

“Okay just let me know where to go once we get near.” He says giving your leg a gentle squeeze. You nod to him as his focus returns back to the road.

He gets out with you at your job, walks you inside passing up all the private booths of other hairstylists as you lead him into yours. He sits patiently on the chair a client would usually occupy and watches you take product out, put it back and write some stuff down. 

“Okay you ready.”

“Only if you are.” He says as you grab his hand and your purse to walk back out. That’s before you’re stopped by one of your coworkers who’s just walked out of her booth. 

“Hey, who’s this?” She asks, giving you a hug and nodding to John. 

“This is John, my roommate.” You reply softly as his hand on your waist tightens.

“Nice to meet you.” He says kindly.

“Yeah you too, so just roommates then?” You wish you could rewind time and keep her stuck in that room a little longer. Cause truthfully you and John technically still were just roommates.

“Um yeah.” You say trying to end this conversation. She glances down to his hand on your waist and then slowly back up you.

“Okay then, have a good day.” She says walking past the both of you. 

John hadn’t realized till this very moment that he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend or anything official. It’s actually kind of a sickening thought to him that you're not really his. I mean in a perfect world you’d walk around with his name above your head in neon lighting. So he conspires, he’ll drop you off at your little beauty store, leave quickly, buy flowers and cute things, hide them in his car, pick you up and go grocery shopping and cook dinner with you and ask you to officially be his. 

“John you okay?” You laugh as you wait for him to unlock the car. 

“Yeah doll sorry.” He says snapping out of it.

———

You're genuinely a little confused when he tells you he’s got some business to take care of real quick and drives away after you’ve made it inside. Not that you mind, you’ve shopped alone for forever now and it’s kinda therapeutic but it’s unusual. No more than twenty minutes pass by as you continue looking at all the new products from beloved brands that the doorbell jingles as someone walks inside. You don’t look up nor really pay it any mind till strong arms encompass you.

“Where’d you go?” You say looking up at him and the foolish smile on his face.

“Just handling some business.”

“Okay, I’m trying to decide between this conditioner or this one. I love the scent of this one but love the lather on this one.” You say holding up to large bottles showcasing them. 

“Buy both and mix em’.” He says grabbing them from you as he also takes the slightly heavy basket from your hands.

“Yeah right that’s way too self indulgent.” You say while trying to make up your mind. 

“Can I just buy them for you?” You look up at him in disbelief.

“Absolutely not.” You quickly decline his very generous offer.

“Why not?”

“Cause I’m a big girl who has money and should be able to pick a product.”

“I never said you weren’t a big girl with money, I just don’t see the need for you to choose when you can have both.” He retorts back. 

“No I’ll just get this one, fan favorite.” You say hesitantly putting it back and putting one in the basket then looking at your list to see what’s next. He lets you disappear into another aisle before grabbing it back off the shelf and hiding it under the other stuff in your cart. 

You shop for a while longer before heading to the cashier as the lady rings up your items. She makes small talk with you about your day and what not. As she nears the last items John asks you to run to the back of the store for that beard stuff he uses and you quickly do. She finishes up before you make it back and he happily takes his card out and pays for your stuff. 

“I don’t know which one because they all look the same.” you say handing him three different types of the same brand.

“It’s this one.” He says giving it to the cashier along with the extra two. 

“Wait John, where's my stuff?” You ask a little confused.

“In those bags.” He says nonchalantly as he pays for his one item telling the lady to have a good day. 

“I’ll pay you back.” You say as he grabs the bags, heading to the door and pushing it open with his back. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He says ignoring your persistence. 

“I am worried about it.” The bill on your restocks is always over six hundred dollars and you cringe at the idea of him spending that on you. 

“Well don’t.” He shrugs as he hands them to you once you're sat too put in the backseat. There’s no room for disapproval as he shuts your door and heads to his side. 

————-

“Have you been drinking my oat milk?” You ask him as you pass the dairy section in the grocery mart. 

“Oat milk?” 

“Yeah the one in the yellowish carton.” 

“I mean yeah I’ve been drinking it but I just thought it was flavored milk.” 

“No, it's non-dairy, made out of oats.” Although that slightly disgusts him he doesn’t say anything cause he’d enjoyed it up until now. 

You continue to shop around picking up things that you need and different snacks to try. You hate grocery shopping more often than you need to so now’s the time to stock up. 

“Can you grab that for me?” You say point at the top of a shelf for the detergent you use. He does with no complaints as he effortlessly plucks it off the shelf. 

You’re never out of his eyeline, he watches your every move along with everyone around the two of you. Although you don’t stray far from him it wouldn’t even be an option. He tried to trap you between him and the cart that he pushes but unfortunately you escaped quickly. 

“I pay this time, you pay the next.” He says as you load stuff up onto the belt. Although he knows you wouldn’t pay for a thing in his presence. 

“Deal.” It sounds fair to you. Once again he very happily pays and puts the grocery bags into the cart as you stand there and admire him. When you guys are done he tells you to sit inside and hands you his keys as he loads the stuff into the truck.

The drive home is mostly silent. His fingers trail shapes onto your clothed skin as you scroll on your phone looking at other people’s lives through a screen. He peeks over at you from time to time and you smile when you notice. 

When you pull into the driveway you begin to unbuckle your seatbelt and grab your purse. 

“Go on inside I can take our stuff in.” He says, not wanting you to see the stuff he has back there. 

“You know I can help, right?” 

“Yeah but you don’t need to.” He says leaning in for a kiss which you gladly entertain. His mustache scratches your upper lip slightly, it's becoming something you love.

“Ever the gentleman.” You say as he pulls away. 

“For you, always.” If you weren’t experiencing this first hand you’d be giggling and kicking your feet at the thought. 

“Okay.” You say smiling way too hard, something that’s been a recurring situation.

————-

“How do you like it cooked?” You say as you finish seasoning the steaks you guys bought at the store for tonight’s dinner. 

“Medium rare.” He replies, nearly drooling at the sight of you, hair messily put up, apron tied around your waist, as you concentrate all your attention on what’s in front of you. 

“Mkay.” You slightly sway your hips to the tune of the small radio playing music. 

“How’d you learn how to cook?” He asks.

“By spending a lot of time by myself and having a cook book obsession.” He smiles, very you esque.

“I’ll be back in a short minute.” He says as you move onto chopping potatoes. You nod in response as he walks down the hallway. 

As quietly as possible he sneaks back out to his car to grab the flowers, vase and earrings he bought you. And brings it inside walking slowly to his room. You’re too lost in thought to hear a thing. Potatoes in the pot of boiling water and steak in the pan. Your mind was occupied with one not over cooking anything and two not getting splashed by hot butter. 

“John.” You call out. You're thankful he heard you with one yell as he came down the hallway. 

“Yeah doll.” You turn to look at him and tilt your head in confusion when you see a leaf stuck to his half shirt.

“Was just going to ask for help in dumping the water.” You say ignoring it. 

“Of course.” He says walking up to you grabbing the mitts you offer him that were a bit too small for his large hands. He picks up the heavy pot with ease as he drains it. 

“Were you outside or something?” You say noticing another leaf on his pants. 

“No, why?” He asks as he sets the pot back on the burner.

“You have leaves on you.” 

“Oh not to worry, must've gotten there when I brought the groceries inside earlier.” 

After that you pay it no mind as he returns back to whatever he’s doing. You finish cooking and set the table for you two. You plate the food and call for him again. He panicked when he heard you, although he’s going to wait till after dinner. What if you say no? What if you're not ready for a relationship, let alone with him.

“John.” You yell again, he hears your footsteps coming towards him and quickly leaves his bedroom.

“Sorry, I was just picking up.” You know for a fact it wasn’t messy when you guys left. Regardless he follows you back down the hallway and into the kitchen. You two sit in your now assigned seats.

“Looks great, Thankyou doll.” He says caressing your chin affectionately.

“You're welcome.” You watch him take his first bite waiting before you take yours, gauging his reaction then getting distracted by how wide his legs spread out, so much so that they peek out from under the table. 

“Keep looking at me like that and I’ll have to enjoy dessert first.” You look away quickly, beginning to eat your own food. The first 5 minutes is silence that’s filled with chews and clinking. 

“I think I’ll reopen bookings next month.” You say randomly as the reoccurring thought occupies your mind. You took some time off work to get some rest and have been enjoying it too much.

“That’s interesting, what for?” You laugh softly before looking up at him. 

“Because living isn’t free?” It could be for you, he thinks. 

“I could always pick up more bills.” He doesn’t want to push the topic knowing you don’t like to talk about it.

“Or I could just get back to work.” That’s your way of ending the conversation, he ends up finishing way before you do and sits back with a satisfied sigh chatting about some kind of camera he wants to put outside.

“I’m full.” You say pushing your plate away. You’re about to stand up and collect the plates before he stops you.

“Allow me.” He says grabbing them and setting them inside the sink, he washes them quickly and puts them in the drying rack before turning to do the pans you used. 

He’s deep in thought about how he’s going to ask you but  snaps out of it when he feels two arms wrap around his waist and slide under his shirt, then your head on his mid back. It’s so subtle yet so affectionate and foreign to Jonathan Price that he just wants to melt.

“You smell good.” You whisper as you stick your nose deeper into his shirt.

“Thank you?” He laughs.

“I’m sleepy.” You say as he reaches for the kitchen towel to dry his hands.

“Well before we head to bed I’ve got something for you.” Your head perks up curiously. He turns around and smiles softly at your drowsy eyes yet wide smile.

“What?” 

“Well follow me and I’ll show you.” He’s wringing his hands as you both walk toward his room.

“Okay, close your eyes.” He says and you do.

You're both in his room now, you hear him shuffling things around or something of the sort as you stand there patiently.

“Okay, open them.” Once your eyes adjust you see him standing there with a gorgeous bouquet of flowers and a little box. 

“Will you be my partner?” You tilt your head at the question until you realize he’s asking you to be his girlfriend.

“Your girlfriend?” 

“Doll, I'm too old for that.” 

“Yes then I’ll be your partner.” You laugh, grabbing the flowers from him. 

“Open this.” He says handing you the small box and taking the bouquet of flowers to set them down on his dresser. Nervously you flip the top open as your eyes go wide. 

“John, these are beautiful.” You say looking at the pair of small paint brushes with a diamond as the bristles.

“Pretty things for a pretty lady.” He says reaching to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

“This is too much.” You whisper truly admiring them, for a man who doesn’t believe in fate finding those in the small jeweler right next to the flower shop is the closest he’s come to it after meeting you. 

“Nothing is too much when it comes to you, doll.” You close the box, setting it down. You look at him for a couple of seconds just admiring the man that’s been nothing but a blessing to you. 

“What?” 

“Kiss me.” It’s nothing sexual, it’s purely out of affection. The way you feel light as a feather beneath his touch, as he feels real against yours. He’s so enamored in everything you, loves the way you breathe, smell, move, laugh he’s obsessed with everything. 

You feel like the heavens have sent him to you. He’s safe, warm and everything you’ve ever wanted. He cares for you truly. He holds you tenderly and gives you all the attention you crave, and you don’t even have to ask for it. 

“Can we sleep in my room tonight?” You say when he pulls away. 

“Yeah, but why?” 

“I feel like this is too boyish for me, I need to see my plants and sleep in my matching sheets with my thousands of pillows.” He laughs as you put your vase of flowers in his hands and lead him towards your room.

-----------------------------

Thankyou for reading, truly you guys are the greatest motivation to contune writing known to man - All my love

comments and reposts are deeply appreciated<3

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