#but everyone should watch pushing daisies

[transbuck]

if you’re still answering/if you would like to answer any of these! 💛🦚🏳️‍⚧️🌈

thank you!!! i am absolutely still answering (i'm fighting with my wip and its got fucking HANDS)

💛 - Who or what made you realize you were queer?

I knew I was bi as soon as I learned it was a thing, when I was like, 13 and on the internet for the first time. like, "you can like BOTH???" and then i figured something was up with my gender in high school but i didn't really figure it out until quarantine and i was spending a lot of time by myself. but there wasn't an isolated incident for that so much as a long and annoying journey asdlkfjaklsd

🦚 - Are there any queer books/shows/etc. that you would suggest?

Okay. Hear me out. Because I'm going to recommend Pushing Daisies which is not explicitly queer in any way there are no canon queer characters. HOWEVER the whole thing is easily read (and likely intened to be) a queer allegory, and was written by Bryan Fuller (same guy who did Hannibal!), who is a gay man. The premise is Ned is a piemaker who has the ability to reanimate the dead (with three simple rules, one of which being if you touch a dead person a second time, they die for good) and he ends up reanimating his childhood best friend/crush Chuck (whose real name is Charlotte). Meaning they can never touch again and have to get creative with their relationship! That's kinda the underlying ongoing plot, with each episode focusing on Ned, Chuck, and Ned's private investigator friend, Emerson Cod, solving murders using Ned's gift. ITS A GREAT SHOW EVERYONE SHOULD WATCH IT AND I'M PISSED IT ONLY GOT TWO SEASONS. (also Ned is very ace coded imo)

🏳️‍⚧️ - What Flag do you think has the best color scheme?

The bi flag honestly, I love that sumbitch. Pink, purple, and blue? Iconic, loud and beautiful. But special shout out to the gilbert baker rainbow flag with sex and magic on it bc those two colours make the rainbow soooo much better

🌈 - What's a Queer Identity, Experience or a piece of History you feel deserves more recognition?

I wish I had a better answer to this, I really need to do more research on queer history and read more experiences. But I do wish there was more focus on gender EUPHORIA as opposed to dysphoria. I never really had dysphoria which is part of why it took so long for me to figure shit out, but I got really happy and excited when people id'ed me as a guy or used masculine terms and he/him pronouns for me! Would love to see more focus on that side of the trans experience :)

send me a pride emoji!

[toms-cherry-trees]

Congrats on 1.5k Mars!! 🥳🥳 here’s the first of my submissions to celebrate with you!! Is there something fluffy you could make out of this gif? Who’s Tommy looking at, and why is he staring at them like that?? 👀👀 thank you!! 💕

Early seasons Tommy is the best Tommy and I am always more than glad to deliver, specially for you! <3

'Mars 1.5K Celebration'

Mine || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: None really, some possessiveness maybe

He is always watching her.

Every Friday she is in the club. Her frocks are tailor made and her jewels are of the finest crafting. She glides about the room gracefully, a cigarette holder carefully placed between two gloved fingers, with the faintest stain of crimson lipstick upon the ebony tip. Just observing her, Tommy can feel the aroma of her perfume, mixed with the fragrance of her hair and the musk of her skin. Even from afar, her skin appears so soft; Tommy flexes his fingers, picturing what it would feel like to brush them down the curve of her neck.

He comes down every time he can, around the same hour, just to stand vigil. Leaning into the wall, whiskey on the rock warming in his hand, blue irises tracking her every move as she greets patrons, dispensing warm smiles and greetings to the patrons. Everyone knows her, how could they not? She beams like the moon in the darkest night, a perfectly cultivated rose in a field of little daisies. The eye drags naturally to her figure, almost as an instinct, and she knows it. She basks on the attention and thrives under the spotlight. She is meant to be observed, cherished and adored. 

Tommy treasures the first time he saw her. The same unwavering beauty and the mysterious eyes situated behind the bar pouring drinks, a novelty in itself. The owner had promptly realised that her presence served to drag admirers to the line, spilling their pockets on the counter for a sliver of her attention. A bright beacon to guide drunken fools to the safety of the liquor and the demise of their salaries. 

Tommy’s keen eye soon picked up through various subtleties in her attitude that she did not enjoy her post; her lips always curved in a candide but forced smile, the set of her jaw whenever she looked away, the way her fingers curled every time she pushed a hand away from her arm. One too many times Tommy had observed how depraved fingers clung to the fabric of her dress, forcing her to stay close, men wanting to drown in the glow of her charm.

He tried to put in a word with the club owner, how a woman such as herself should not be hung out like a piece of meat to lure in predators. The owner refused and sent Tommy in his way. The man did not have much to refuse two weeks later, however, when the Blinder overtook possession of the establishment for themselves. Many of the employees chose to desert, but she chose to stay. The way his name rolled off her lips sent a shiver down his spine. When he offered his lighter for her cigarette, he felt the warm caress of her breath in his hand. He had to fight off the impulse of brushing that coquettish loose strand of hair out of her face.

From that moment on, Tommy became obsessed. He had left the management of the club to others, but he still showed up there every night to watch her, to receive her gentle welcoming as the hostess of the club; to watch her strut across the room, dominating the scene, now safely flanked by two gargantuan goons to keep her safe and ward off anyone who dared look at her the wrong way. The charming smile she gave him every time he crossed the threshold was enough to wrap him around her little finger.

He had pursued her, like every other man, but she was tantalisingly elusive, always standing just on the edge of his reach, close enough to entice him, but always ready to abscond. Toying with him, giving him a taste of heaven and then slipping like sand on his fingers. Every time Tommy thought he had finally captured her, caged in his grasp, she simply vanished in a puff of smoke. The chase resumed, the thrill of the chase flaming his fervour.

Suddenly, back in the present, her back stiffens and she peers over her shoulder. Their eyes meet, a Mona Lisa smile pulling at her lips, a smile meant just for him. She has grown used to seeing him there, his attention following her about as she socialises with the patrons. She moves behind the bar and produces from under the counter a feathery fan. The effect on Tommy is immediate; his pupils dilate and the whiskey stops midway towards his lips. He had gifted her that fan. He loved to see her piercing gaze staring at him from above the fluffy tips, concealing her face from view and leaving to his imagination what was happening behind. Is she smirking, is she grimacing, are her lips pursed in a silent kiss?

More often that he cared to admit, Tommy had pictured her with that fan in her hand and nothing else on her skin.

She leans down towards a male, using that same fan to hide their faces as she whispers to him. The beast of jealousy lashes inside Tommy’s chest, growling and gnawing and banging against the bars of its cage, straining to escape and wreak havoc. His free hand twitched and fisted around nothing, the mental image of his fist colliding with the man’s nose burning like a branding iron. He knows she does it on purpose; she loves to rile him up, push on the boundaries of his desires and then reap the seeds she has sown on him. The threat of another stealing what he so desperately covets enough for Tommy to double up his efforts. He cannot slack if he aspires for a woman like her.

As the night winds down and the patrons wane, she finally caves in to him and moves to his side. His posture is relaxed but his jaw is tense and his muscles nearly vibrate with the need to pounce on her, the wait so long and the prize so close. Her hands lay on his chest, pushing him towards one of the shadowed corners of the room to steal a heated kiss from his lips, still tasting of champagne and sweetness of her own self. Tommy circles her waist, all too happy to oblige in her desire. The game has been played, the hunt culminated and the treasure laid before him

Her whispered words tickle his ear, her gloved hand cradling the back of his head, feeling the pressure of a hidden ring against his skull

“I am ready to go home, Mr Shelby”

The smirk dances on his lips, his fingers gripping her chin tenderly and brushing some smeared lipstick from the edge of her mouth

“As you wish, Mrs Shelby”

[livesincerely]

”Hi,” a voice says, much closer than he expects. Davey turns to find a woman at his elbow—pretty, with long, tawny hair and big brown eyes—and her smile is sweet and a little shy. “I’m Julia.”

”Uh, hi,” Davey replies, a little confused.

His first thought is that she needs help flagging down the bartender; Davey’s tall and the place is packed, so it’s a reasonable assumption.

Instead, she says, “I don’t usually do this, but, I thought, maybe— And, my friends said I should just be brave and go for it, so, uh, would you be interested in maybe going out sometime? With me?”

”Oh, uh,” Davey rubs a hand over the back of his neck, a little thrown. He scrambles for a good way to turn her down without being mean. “I’m actually not—“

”Dave, did you want any food or just the drink?” Tony asks, tugging at his shirt sleeve to get his attention.

Davey latches onto him like a lifeline.

”I’m here with my boyfriend, Tony,” he lies, throwing an arm around Tony’s shoulders and pulling him in close.

Tony, because he’s the absolute best and Davey’s new favorite person, doesn’t even miss a beat.

“Oh, hey,” he says, curling into Davey’s side. “Sorry, this one’s taken, but believe me, I understand the appeal.”

”Oh my god,” Julia says, looking mortified. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—“

”No biggie,” Tony says easily. “It happens.”

He turns back to Davey, lifts up on his toes, and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “Come on, babe,” he says, with a ridiculous eyebrow wriggle. “Help me carry our drinks.”

Julia excuses herself with another flustered apology—Davey almost feels bad, but mostly he’s relieved at how relatively painless the whole exchange was.

“I owe you one,” Davey murmurs to Tony as they escape, heading to their table.

Tony snorts. “Oh, trust me, I’m about to get it back, with interest, in sheer entertainment value.”

“What do you mean?” Davey asks.

“Judging by the look on his face, Jack definitely saw what just went down,” Tony says, oddly vindictive. “And he ate the last of my fucking Froot Loops yesterday, so he deserves what’s coming to him.”

“What’s coming to him?” Davey questions, a little too drunk to follow this new thread of the conversation.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony says, patting his shoulder. “Here, sit.”

He pushes Davey into the open seat next to Jack—who's watching them with a strange expression, tension pulling at the corners of his mouth.

That tension only grows more pronounced as Tony plops himself into Davey’s lap and makes himself nice and comfortable. Davey just wraps his arms around Tony’s waist, resigned to this becoming A Whole Thing.

”Everyone here owes me money,” Tony announces gleefully to the table at large. “He didn’t even make it five minutes.”

There’s a collective groan.

“Who was it this time?” Specs asks, digging into his pockets for his wallet.

”Girl at the bar,” Tony says, nodding in the right direction. “The one in the green dress.”

The whole group turns to look as one, not even trying to be discreet. Davey resists the urge to sigh.

“She actually seemed normal,” Tony continues, with audible disbelief. Davey wishes he could take offense but, unfortunately, it’s well-warranted. “Cute, too. I wouldn’t’ve chased her off if Dave hadn’t signaled.”

”And where did kissing him factor int’a the equation?” Jack asks, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back in his chair.

“You kissed Davey?” Albert asks loudly, looking intrigued. He turns to Davey and continues, “You let him kiss you? Don’t’cha know where his mouth has been?”

“Fuck off, Albie, I’m fresh as a fucking daisy—“

“No one should be kissin’ Davey,” Jack insists with a scowl.

“Dave didn’t mind,” Tony says with a smirk. He’s clearly enjoying this way too much. “And anyway, we had’ta sell it.”

“Oh, I bet you fucking did,” Jack mutters under his breath.

“How come Racer gets to mack on Davey?” Albert complains, which tracks—tequila always makes him pouty. “It’s my birthday! If anyone gets to kiss Davey, it should be me.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how that works,” Romeo tells Albert as Jack sputters soundlessly.

“Sure, it does,” Al insists. “Hey, Dave, can I kiss you?”

“No one is kissing Davey!” Jack says. He kind of looks like he’s got a swarm of bees in his mouth, his cheeks flushed and puffed out, his jaw working furiously.

“Uh, not with that fuckin’ attitude,” Albert scoffs, extremely unimpressed. “How ‘bout it, Dave?”

Davey blinks. “Um…”

“No one else is kissing Davey,” Jack orders.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

My love congratulations on 3000! You deserve all of it! It’s no surprise I freaking love!! Your writing so except two requests from me haha 😅 For your celebration may I pretty please get promt 5 and 24 with our favorite god Thor for request one💗🫣  

Always Just One More

Thor x plus size reader

Thor is insatiable for you and being in public won’t stop him

Warnings: smut, fingering, overstimulation, exhibitionism, sex (kind of) in a public place, Natasha knows all, references to oral and sex toys

WC: 636

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

Thor loved to give you orgasms. It was his favourite pastime besides playing video games. Eating you out, fucking you, controlling a vibrator or dildo he slipped into you, all of it was great to him! He was hypnotised by the way your eyebrows would scrunch as you drew closer to your end, how your breathing changed and how your already tantalising scent got even sweeter.

But by far his favourite way of making you cum was with his fingers. He could watch as you were pinned to the bed or the couch or the kitchen counter (anywhere really) and be forced to take his thick fingers assaulting that little spot inside of you that made your bones go to jelly. It was a massive ego boost to have you fall apart on just one of his fingers. And he especially loved walking around for the rest of the day with your scent soaked into the rough skin of his hands.

But his most cherished part of having you like this was that he could do it in public.

The bar was just crowded enough that no one was bothered by the fact that you were sitting on his wide lap, the large skirt of your 50’s-style dress fanned out over his thighs. Everyone’s eyes were hazy with the copious amounts of alcohol they had ingested in the hour they had been there. Even the self-righteous Steve was flushed to the tips of his ears.

Thor’s lips were pressed to the side of your head and to anyone else, this would have looked like a loving gesture between partners but dear god you knew better. Beneath your skirts, his huge palms kept your plump legs spread as his fingers toyed with your clit, your ruined panties tucked safely in his pocket . 

“Come on, just one more. One more and then we’re done.” That was a damn lie. He had said that two orgasms ago when your brain could actually form somewhat coherent thoughts. His black jeans were stained even darker with your wetness and his throbbing bulge was pressed tightly to your outer thigh. 

The noise of your companions and the other patrons of the club faded to a dull white noise as your ears began to ring. Thor held you tighter to him as you squirmed.

You whined pitifully as his fingers dipped down to your entrance, scooping up remnants of your release to push back inside of you. Your hips rolled down into his hand despite the burn of overstimulation that radiated from your core. A chuckle rumbled through his broad chest and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

“That’s it, keep going. Such a good girl. Cum one more time and then I’ll take you home and ravish you.” For a brief moment, you came back to your senses, just in time to see Natasha’s green eyes trained on you, a wicked smirk upon her lips. But before you could warn your beau or even make a sound, your fifth release of the night washed over you and you went boneless in Thor’s arms.

“Hey Point Break!” Tony called over the din, his voice slurred, “Think you need to take Ms Daisy home!” The others groaned at the dumb nicknames but the god smiled.

“I think you are right!” He seized onto the suggestion, “Come on my love, we should get you into bed.” Some of the others gave a whoop. He gently lowered you to the floor, your heels barely touching the sticky wood before an arm wrapped around your thick waist, keeping you upright as your knees buckled.

“Take good care of our girl!” Natasha called out as you were being led away and Thor looked back over his shoulder, throwing her a wink.

“I always do!”

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[darlingshane]

Violent Desires

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank doesn't like being called 'daddy' but you do it anyway to rile him up and have him punish you.

Content/Warnings: 18+, Explicit, Smut, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Overstimulation, Spanking, Light bondage, Mild Daddy Kink, Brat!Reader, Mention of Alcohol, Mention of canon-typical violence.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This is loosely inspired by some events at the beginning of The Punisher’s season 2.

— You can read below or at AO3.

Spending the summer in a grimy motel with no AC in bumfuck nowhere with an asshole you met only a few weeks ago isn't exactly a dream vacation. But trouble always has led you to the strangest of places. And considering that you might be dead if you hadn't met Frank Castle that night, you can't really complain about your current status. You got yourself here, and you should be thankful for still having all your limbs and head attached to your body.

Still, it doesn’t make it easy to show gratitude to a prickling jerk with a fucking savior complex, when all he does is boss you and hustle you around however he desires.

You can’t help but wonder what’s in this for him. At first, you believed he just wanted a piece of ass, like every other bastard you’ve met, but no, Frank is not about that. At least he hasn’t shown any interest in you in that way.

This isn’t about money for him, either. You’ve offered, and he’s declined any of your offers.

Perhaps, it’s all about doing the right thing – being a hero, whatever that means. But you’re not a saint, or a damsel in distress, and he knows that. Messing with the wrong people by holding onto something that Greenway wanted, and never got, thanks to your unyielding knight in shining armor, is what got you into this mess in the first place.

Eventually, you figure out why and realize that this arrangement has nothing to do with you or being noble in the slightless.

It’s about the fight.

He lives for it. Welcomes it. Seeks it. Needs it like oxygen.

Violence fuels him to keep going. It courses through his veins, thicker than his own blood.

Every day, it becomes more obvious you’re merely a means to an end in the hands of The punisher. You figured who he was too when you found an old newspaper piece with his face taped on the back of an old van’s window, when you stopped for gas once.

Frank or Pete. Neither name means anything to you.

His life is a tragedy, there's no denying that. But that doesn't give him a pass to be that inconsiderate towards you.

You’re a stranger to him. He doesn’t owe you shit, and vice versa. But when he saw you in trouble, unlike the rest of the world, he didn't hesitate for a second to risk his own life by getting between you and the men that were chasing after you.

After getting out of that roadhouse, he drove you from town to town for the most part of the last month, killing any dumbass that dared to track you down, until they stopped following you.

Living closely together with him is no picnic. He watches you like a hawk, always alert, and acts as more of a captor rather than a protector sometimes.

At this point, you're not sure what comes next. Is he going to be your keeper forever? Cause you’re getting tired of this situation and you just wanna go back to your life, or whatever is left. The truth is, Greenway killed everyone you knew, so you don’t have much to return to. Maybe sticking by Frank’s side is the best option for you right now.

Warranted or not, this isn’t over yet. He took down some of Greenway’s most dangerous men, and more are on the way. You’re both sure that the big boss is still looking for the woman, you, who has the key to bring him down. It consists of a pesky pen drive that if were to fall into the right hands, it'd mean the end to his crime ring. That's the only insurance that’s keeping you from pushing daisies in an unmarked grave somewhere.

That and Frank.

It’s been a couple of weeks since you were last tracked to that motel in Wyoming. The mileage of Frank’s van has collected thousands of miles since, and tonight you’re up for an adventure. So, you sneak out past your guard the first chance you get to explore the new town. Temperatures are painfully hot, and you just take shelter in a bar with a good air conditioner. You play pool, have a drink or two, and dance with newfound friends for a couple of hours past Frank’s dinner time.

“Where the hell were you?” his voice grumbles, one hand reaching to pull the beaded string from the old-as-fuck lamp on the night table between the twin beds when you step into the room.

It’s past midnight, you said earlier you were going to get some snacks from the bending machine and that’s when you decided to go on a walk around town instead. Because you’re not a goddamn child, or a helpless girl who can’t keep herself safe. He acts like you're both. You’re neither.

You simply shrug indifferently at his question, toeing off your slip-on shoes by the foot of the bed.

“You got anything to say, huh?” he mutters, rising from his bed to tower over you.

“I'm sorry, daddy,” you turn your back to him, and start shedding clothes off.

“The fuck did you just say?” he snarls oh so gravely. Tone laced in anger. You can feel the rough texture of his voice on the surface of your back when you pull your shirt over your head.

“Said I was sorry, daddy,” you pout, slipping out of your pants and kneeling on your bed, stripped to your underwear.

“Are you drunk?”

“Just a lil buzzed, daddy.”

“Stop calling me that. For fuck's sake! What the hell is wrong with you today?”

“Isn't that what you are, though? You act like it. You sound like it. Always telling me what to do, what to eat, where to go… If you don't want me to call you that, then stop trying to control me.”

“You'd be dead in a ditch somewhere if I hadn’t done all that. Hate me all you want, sweetheart, but you and I both know that’s true.”

“So you keep saying, Oh Almighty Savior, but I was doing fine until I met you,” you stick out your pointer finger and poke his chest twice with malice.

“I doubt that,” he shoves your hand away. “And we still gotta find what kind of shit you bring to our door after your impromptu outing tonight.”

“Relax, if the punisher couldn't track me down, neither could they.”

“You better be right. Christ! You’re such a goddamn brat. You say you wanna stop running, but you’re being utterly careless,” he starts pacing the short length of the room, peeking out the window here and there.

“Why are you always so angry?” your lips turn into a half grin, as you shift on the bed, getting on all fours, showing your ass in his direction as he walks past your bed. “You wanna come take it out on me, daddy? I’m sure it’ll make you feel better.”

“So help me, God! Call me that one more time…” stopping in his tracks just for a beat, his teeth grit together, as the muscles of his jaw get all worked up.

“And what? What are you gonna do, daddy? Tape my mouth and handcuff me to the radiator again? You wanna know what I did tonight? C’mere and make me tell you.”

You’re not sure what’s gotten into you tonight, you’re not even that drunk. But you find it quite entertaining to rile him up like that.

For a moment, he stares at you like he wanted to rip you apart, like all those men you’ve seen perish in The Punisher’s wake.

You want him too.

You need him too.

Frank just stares and swallows anxiously, unable to decide what to do with you and your erratic behavior.

“Stop being a pussy and show me what the big bad punisher can do,” you keep provoking him, wiggling your ass in the air. “I know you’ve been sitting there all night, just itching like crazy to beat the hell out of someone. Or fuck someone’s brains out. I guess it’s just the same feeling.”

“Keep running your fucking mouth like that. See how far that gets you.”

You press your teeth on your bottom lip, glance at him over your shoulder before spelling the magic word, “do you wanna use my mouth, daddy?”

There's no doubt you're in big trouble when he abandons his pacing, and closes the window’s blinds in one harsh motion before standing behind you with such an imposing dark shadow it makes the hairs on your skin rise.

Silence takes over for three seconds and without a warning, that silence is broken by the sound of your panties being torn apart effortlessly with his fingers. It makes you ache in a whole different way when you look over your shoulder again to see his nose flaring and his eyes falling into the depths of lust as his fist clutches to your now-ruined underwear.

“Don't fucking look at me like that,” he mutters, lip curling into a snarl. And before you can say anything, he reaches with his free hand to hold your jaw while he shoves the shredded panties into your mouth. “You call me Frank or Sir, but I don't wanna hear you say that word again. Got that? Nod if you understand.”

The brat in you wants to say – yes, daddy – but you do as you're told. Dip your chin, and keep your head low.

His large warm palms roam the sides of your hips now. Gripping firmly to your skin as if he wanted to dig his fingertips past the delicate surface of your body to get his hands covered in your blood, and taste it; drown himself in it. That’s exactly how it feels.

It’s nothing but desperate. All this time without a companion has turned it into something he never was, at least not in bed. A bloodlust creature he’d sworn once he would never become. But you’re a different kind of breed, one that can take him places he’s never dared to visit, he recognizes. And right now all he wants to do is satisfy the monster sharpening its teeth under his skin, and feed him with your desire.

With one hand anchored to your hip, he sends the other to undo his belt. You hear the familiar unbuckling sound and the rustling of the fabric as he slides the fine leather off the jeans’ loops.

For a second, you think he’s going to strike you with it, but no. He instead slides the leather around your neck.

“Stay still,” it falls under a heavy breath between his lips.

A pitched sound echoes in your throat as he buckles it tight around your neck. It doesn't have a notch to hold on to up that high, so Frank curls the end around his fist to keep the leather snug around your neck.

“What? Isn’t this what you wanted, little brat?” he tugs on it a little.

The pace of your heart picks up, but you nod again in your makeshift leash. You trust him, nonetheless. He wouldn’t have gotten you this far if he was going to kill you.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Sir,” you mumble around the fabric of your underwear.

Then, you feel the deft fingers of his opposite hand, gliding from your ass and up your back to unclasp your bra. He lets you slip one arm at a time or off the straps as he presses his bulge against your ass. It stirs at burning arousal in your core. Your walls soften and flutter deliciously in anticipation.

Enjoying himself, he presses his hips a little harder, making sure you can feel the hard outline of his cock swelling behind the denim fabric. It's substantially bigger than you thought. It's daunting and exciting to think about him defiling your pussy with it.

“Let's see what you're made of,” he tentatively moves one hand between your legs, shoving his twitchy finger in your folds to collect your slickness. “Christ, you're so fucking wet.”

In his power play, as he rubs circles around your clit, every time your face dips lower, he pulls the belt to keep your head straight up, facing the ugly headboard of the uncomfortable bed. You can only imagine what people do in places like this, and how many dirty secrets this bed and these four walls have seen. They're about to witness another when Frank releases the end of the belt, letting the leather lose its constriction around your neck.

You let out a shaky breath through your nose as he takes his other hand away from your sex. A second after, both his palms land on your chest and feast on your tits. He fills his eager hands, squeezing as hard as they did on your ass to mark his digits on them. Claiming them as if they existed only for his enjoyment.

Working himself up, he lets out a grunt, and pinches your nipples with vehemence just to hear you squeal again.

“Sh, sh, sh,” he soothes his palms softer on your puckered peaks and frees them at once to finally undo his fly and release his erection.

Frank glances down, spits on his palm, and spreads his saliva around the blunt tip of his cock before guiding himself into your pussy. You're already drenched, but your entrance welcomes the extra lubrication as he slowly sheathes himself inside you.

Your eyes flutter shut, feeling the breadth of his swelling stretching your opening in that first stroke.

“God, you’re so tight,” Frank's lips part as a shy, beautiful moan slides past his teeth at the fine pressure of your slicked walls. He pulls himself out fully, and repeats that motion again to capture how your entrance grips around his length when he breaches you.

Abandoning himself to the depths of your walls, his thrusts are nothing but experimental for a few strokes before unleashing the violent desires of his inner monster to let his hips slam against your ass at full force.

Claiming every inch of you, he keeps your body in submission with his hands clutching the curves of your ass, and you gladly surrender to his whims. His fingers sink in new places, stamping their prints and half moons when his nails press harder on your skin.

The room oozes of sweat and sex and the lewd sounds that come from his body colliding against yours over and over, and the creaking of the bed.

Yours fists ball the flowery bedspread for a long time before sending one of your hands between your legs to care for your clit.

“Did I say that you could touch yourself?” he spanks your ass twice to put a stop to your hand.

“Please… I need it,” you articulate with difficulty.

“Stop whining, and fucking take it,” his palm smacks your rear once more, harder.

Ignoring your pleading, the punishing rhythm of his cock, crawling up to the hilt, becomes more desperate as it brings you closer to ecstasy; thrust after thrust. Your body shudders in delight, and every time you cry out his name, curl your hips against his moves, or beg, you're gifted with a new smack.

As you reach the tipping point, his force turns sharper, meaner. It's at that moment that all your muscles seize up, and everything becomes blurry before letting the orgasm take over your body. You groan and pull yourself away from Frank's reach to lay face down on the mattress.

You might have had enough, but he's not satisfied yet and before the orgasm ebbs he grabs the curves of your ass, pulling them up to their former position, while you keep your head and shoulders pressed to the bed. He keeps you like that with one hand and uses the other to shove his cock back inside, capturing the relentless flutters and contractions of your walls from your orgasm.

“Did I tell you to come?” he breathes fire, using a harsh palm to chastise you once more.

Still up in your high, you can only hum in response.

“Answer me!” he demands, extending his fingers to your lips to pull the fabric out of your mouth.

“I… I’m sorry, Sir.”

The overstimulation barely lets you word that out, as he grows overjoyed, watching you struggle between battling your orgasm and the new strange entity that overcomes your body. It’s a different kind of beast, fueled by a great amount of stamina, that doesn’t waver when it comes to picking up the same wild rhythm as before. He sweats it out, works it out, growls it out like a fucking animal until all his seed is poured into your tenderness and the lust-hungry monster is finally sated.

As that creature goes back to its cave, Frank goes limp on your side.

You stretch your legs and lay on your stomach, as he rests on his back. He notices just now how his clothes are still on and how annoying they become as they cling to the layer of sweat trying to cool down his body.

Glancing to the side, you see his chest rising and falling at a fast rate, as your heart starts to settle.

“That was…” he starts, and you can see a glimpse of a tiny smile taking over one corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” you let out a sigh, sliding the leather that was still partially hanging around your neck, letting it fall to the floor.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, Frank. You didn’t.”

“I know you said that I could. But for a moment I thought– I don’t know what came over me… I never wanted to… didn’t mean to…”

“Frank,” you put a palm on his chest to stop that complicated thought. “We had sex. It was great. Don’t overthink it. I’d have hit you at any point if I felt threatened or unsafe. Trust me.”

“Bet you would’ve.”

Your lips curve up, observing his body completely relaxed for the first time in weeks.

[seullovesme]

my daisy. » kang seulgi

pairing ⥬ kang seulgi x reader

genre ⥬ fluff (happy late valentines!)

summary ⥬ a girl with brightest smile gifted you a bouquet of assorted flowers for valentines day, bringing life to your world that was once dull and colorless

wc ⥬ 1.8k

'so, i'll just wait for you to bloom' - my daisy (w2e)

dread.

that was the name of the feeling that took over your body as you watched all the couples gathering in the hall, everyone in their own pair except for a handful of people. unfortunately, you were in that select few.

you hated valentines day. not because you hate the idea of love, but because out of all years of your life you never had a valentine. ever since you were a little kid, seeing your parents have a whole day where they showered each other in love like they were carefree made you want that for yourself.

but here you are, standing all alone, surrounded by people who weren't. tsk. it's not like you wanted a valentine anyways. the thought of pretty flowers or sweet chocolates in the shapes of heart, or cute letters that held the feelings of love and admiration, yuck! definitely not anything you desired.. not at all.

you push past the mingling bodies as you mutter curse words under your breath, annoyed by the smell of love in the air. you finally reach the door to your class, but you open it to reveal the class gathered in a circle. it intrigued you for a moment, until you realized who sat in that spot. kang seulgi, that silly girl.

god, how long have you had this crush on her and still haven't tested your luck? whatever, not like it mattered. kang seulgi was everybody's crush at this point, you were one of many. the bear was in the school dance team and she was classified as "hottest girl to roam the school grounds". curse her and her good genes. you didn't even like her for her looks.

you loved her kind soul and cute smile, and she really sealed her mark on your heart when she bought you a new folder with a teddy bear on it because these careless kids thought it was okay to rip your original one. she was one of a kind, but nowhere near your league. she didn't even really know you, you were just another student in her class, your only interactions surrounding school topics. it was whatever, you didn't care for love anymore.

when you peeked over, you spotted a bouquet in seulgi's hands, her eyes closed shut with a frown on her face. the people around her begging her to spill who the flowers were for, throwing out names as well. you felt anger rise in your chest at them clearly ignoring how bothered seulgi was. were they brainless? they should leave her alone.

you were going to walk up and give them a piece of your mind when a friend called your name. you were shocked by how loud she was, feeling embarrassed by all the eyes looking over. you walked towards her, but you were stopped by a hand.

the room went silent for a moment, the sound of whispers breaking it occasionally. you looked at the hand and trailed up their arm, all the way to their face. hm, they looked a lot like kang seulgi. wait.

kang seulgi?!

the girl held the bouquet and gave you a soft smile. "hi, y/n!"

"happy valentines day! i was going to ask you to be my valentine, but i was so scared you were going to reject me." she rubbed her nape nervously and directed her eyes to something off to the side. you just opened and closed your mouth like a fish out of water, trying to process this all while thinking of what to say.

your reaction frightens the sweet seulgi, making her sweat bullets. maybe she shouldn't have done this, she was probably making you uncomfortable!

"ahh.. sorry. i thought—i thought that doing this would have been better than asking, but it seems like it was only worse. ahem–" seulgi pushed the flowers out to you. "these are for you. i saw you looking at this flower at the flower shop and i assumed they were your favorite."

you studied the plants she held in her hands, amazed that she figured out your favorite flower, more so that she remembered that you bumped into her two months ago at the shop your friend worked at.

you took the bouquet and formulated the words in your head. "thank you." was all you said as you just looked at your dirty white shoes. you looked up and glanced around when you heard your classmates discussing amongst themselves. you suddenly felt shy under their gaze, particularly the girl who was patiently waiting for you to say something.

"could you.. maybe meet me after school?" you propose, which made seulgi's smile widen as she furiously nodded. you reflected the same expression, smiling at the bear's cuteness. it should be a crime to be so hot and so cute at the same time.

seulgi turned to return to her seat, hopping like a little kid who got candy but only she got something much sweeter.

you waited at the school gate, continuously smelling the delicate flowers. you wondered if your friend crafted the bouquet for her. just the thought of it made you blush like crazy.

"you look like a tomato." you spin in an instant after hearing seulgi compare you to a fruit. you quickly put your free hand on your cheek, trying to cool your face down. "who's making you blush like that? i'll fight them."

seulgi fighting for you? you let out a chortle, covering your mouth at the slipped laugh. she raised a curious eyebrow at you.

you ignored her question and carefully put her flowers into your bag, making sure not to crush a single petal. "i'm serious, i'll fight anyone who tries to steal you from me." she threatens with determination. you're stunned by how straightforward she was, and she saw.

"i mean—if you want to be mine that is." she lets another nervous laugh, rubbing her nape. that was a thing she often did when she was nervous, you picked up from her behavior before. adorable, a nervous seulgi, how funny.

the school crush is scared of rejection too.

"can we take a walk to the park? i just want to talk about, you know, uhm, all of this?" you rushed to say, hoping she could understand your jumbled talk. she nodded and followed your lead as you began walking in the right direction. seulgi just hoped that if you were going to shut her down, that you would let her down easy. her heart could not take the pain of rejection, she could barely handle the thought of you not liking her gifts.

"so.."

"so."

"it was you, by the way." you state.

"what was me?"

"the one who made me blush. it was you.." you felt shy repeating it out loud. "so you don't need to fight anyone."

seulgi's heart was beating so hard that she feared you could really hear it. she made you blush. fuck, she was in deep.

"when did you start thinking you liked me?" you interrogated as you paused at the crosswalk, the light red for pedestrians. you turned to meet her eyes and noticed the small height difference she had over you, the bear was just red in the face.

"i don't think i like you,"

WHAT?

"i know i like you. if you don't believe me, ask my heart." you couldn't help but fold over her cheesy words. if you knew she was such a cheeseball, you would have prepared your heart better. clearly, her effects on you were severe. you plant your face into your palms and turn away from her.

seulgi's shocked by your reaction, but she soon hears your girly squeals. "kang seulgi, where did you learn to be so cheesy?!" you exclaimed. she just watched you in adoration, loving how you were so giddy over two sentences. you cooled down and fixed your posture, trying to look unaffected by her.

"hm, i guess it runs in my blood."

the red hand turned into a green walking symbol, signaling that it was okay to cross. you began walking, yet again stopped by seulgi. she just smiled and grabbed your hand, wrapping it around her arm. you held her arm in confusion. "hold tightly when we cross, okay?"

the same heat creeped to your face once again. you started dragging her, so fed up by her gentleman-like manners. stupid seulgi and her stupid charisma.

you finally reached the park with your arms still linked. seulgi let a small cough out and when she got your attention, you realized you were still tightly holding onto her. you scrambled to untangle your arms, pretending to clear your throat. you watched her carefully set her bag onto the bench beside you, and she reached for the straps of your bag as well.

you let her take it off of you, loving how gentle and kind she was. she just met your eyes with her soft ones.

"well seulgi, thank you for the flowers. i honestly wasn't expecting to receive anything today, i usually don't get anything gifts. i didn't think anyone ever noticed me. i'm not pretty like those girls who fawn over you during your performances, or as confident as those boys would trip over each other trying to be the first to give you a compliment in the mornings." you give an airy laugh, your pained expression seen by the bear.

she was hurt that you didn't see yourself the way she saw you. seulgi stepped forward and wrapped you tightly in her arms, giving her famous bear hug to you for the first time.

"baby, don't you see? i noticed you. you are my pretty girl who sits in the library, falling asleep reading romance novels. my confident girl who hides in the dance practice rooms during lunch, singing and dancing your heart out when you think no one is watching." your eyes widen. seulgi knew you did that?! shit..

"i like you for who you are, so please don't be discouraged by others who could never compare to you." seulgi closes her eyes and enjoys your soft body, tightening her embrace. she feels you snake your arms around her waist. the two of you stood there in such a comforting position.

"baby?" you teased. seulgi whined at that.

"that's all you got?"

"hm.. you called me baby." you whisper, so happy to finally experience a feeling you thought only existed in movies.

"i did. i want to call you that forever, would you let me do so?"

you stayed silent to tease her again. she started to get antsy and tried to wiggle out of your arms to study what face you were making, but you stood firmly, not letting her escape.

"yes. i now declare seulgi as my baby as well!" you yelled. seulgi gasped and spun you in the air, the world's brightest smile on her face.

you looked around and suddenly the sky was bluer and the grass was greener. the color of the flower popped and the world was so colorful. you knew why.

the cause was standing right in front of you, grinning like an idiot. but you couldn't make fun of her when you were doing the exact same.

had to rewrite cuz tumblr keeps eating my posts

[gratelove]

Our Secret

Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Warnings: cursing, physical violence (fist fighting), enemies to lovers

You’re at a beach party when a fight breaks loose and Rafe ends up accidentally hurting you. He comes to you to apologize, and reveals more than expected.

(Thinking about making a Pt 2. Let me know what y’all think! Should I continue this?)

Your hips sway to the music as your hands run through your hair. You feel the sand between your toes and you sing the words to the song in sync with your best friend, Kiara. You both laugh and you hold your hand out for her to do a spin. She grabs your hand and does a 180, then stops abruptly, her body now facing the ocean side. Your eyes follow hers to see two boys standing at the end of the beach. They’re yelling at each other, and it takes you only a second to realize it’s JJ and Rafe fucking Cameron.

“We should go over there before things get worse,” Ki says. Just then you see JJ’s fist connect with Rafe’s jaw.

“Things just got worse,” you say. You and Ki push through the crowd of people. No one except for a few bystanders have noticed the altercation. Just as you’re about to reach them, Rafe rears back, then throws a fist to JJ. It hits him square in the nose, and JJ stumbles back. He brings his hand to his face and looks at the blood left behind on his palm. JJ then sprints at Rafe, wrapping his arms around his torso, bringing him to the ground. Rafe’s back slams into the sand, and JJ starts throwing punches. That doesn’t last for long as Rafe is able to roll them over. Rafe starts wailing into JJ, one fist after the other connecting with JJ’s cheeks.

“You guys, stop!” Ki screams. Everyone on the beach now has their eyes on them. John B, Sarah, and Pope have now joined you and Ki in the inner circle.

“Rafe, get off of him!” Sarah pleas. You see JJ start to lose his fight as more blood appears with every hit. You couldn’t stand to watch this anymore, and didn’t notice the few tears falling down your cheeks.

“Rafe, get off of him,” You yell as you rush toward him. You fiercely grab Rafe’s shoulders, then suddenly you find your body hit the sand, and a stinging feeling comes from your right eye and cheek bone. It takes you a moment to realize that Rafe elbowed you in the face to get you off of him. There are gasps all around you, and you look up to meet Rafe’s gaze. He has stopped punching JJ, but is still straddling him.

“Y/N, I- I’m-“ Before the blonde haired boy can get any words out, John B grabs both of his arms behind his back and pushes him off of JJ and away from you.

“What is wrong with you? Hitting a fucking girl?” John B yells at him, and you look to see Ki and Pope lifting JJ from the ground. Sarah runs over to you and pushes hair off your face.

“Hey, you okay?” All you do is nod. “Let’s get you home.” She wraps her hand around your upper arm and hoists you up. You feel slightly dizzy as you make it to your feet.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry!” You hear pleading words as you make your way down the beach. You take one last glance and see Rafe staring at you, the bonfire lighting the sad expression on his face.

—

You wipe the fog from your steaming shower off the mirror to reveal your bruised eye. You run your finger over the purple and red skin, wincing at the tenderness. You sigh and you dry your hair with your towel. It’s only been a few days since the incident at the bonfire. Now, you had to go to work, which just happened to be on Ward Cameron’s boat. You were dreading the thought of potentially having to see Rafe, but you needed the money, so there was no chance you were going to call out.

Once your hair was towel dried, you tie on a matching two piece swim set, then pull your Daisy duke shorts on. You put your feet in a pair of socks and your beat up, slip on vans. You take one last look at yourself in the full body mirror in your room, grab your bag, and you’re out the door.

You park your truck on the curb outside the Cameron mansion, and make your way to the boat. You hop on and walk inside the cabin. It smells of salt water and Pine-Sol. You pull out the O2 tanks as Ward texted you that he needs them filled, and you set them aside for later. You then grab some cleaner and begin cleaning the table surrounded by a navy blue cushioned couch. This boat was large enough that you could’ve lived on it. It has a kitchen, bedroom, dining room, and more. Everything you would ever need to live. It would be a dream, getting to live in a house boat on the ocean.

You hear wood creaking and it breaks you from your thoughts. You turn slightly to see Rafe and roll your eyes. You turn back around, not wanting him to see your face. You didn’t want his pity. You didn’t need him to feel sorry, and you definitely didn’t want to hear it. To your knowledge, you didn’t even know if Rafe was capable of that. The only people he cared about were himself and Ward.

“Y/N?” You hear him say your name behind you. The word comes out hoarse and melancholy. It almost sounds as if he was scared to say it. You take in a deep breath.

“What do you want, Rafe?”

“I.” There’s a long pause. You still haven’t turned around, but you can almost see his face searching for the right words to say.

“Rafe, I really don’t need your pity, or your apology,” you say, and continue cleaning the dining table.

“No, I need to say it. Y/N, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just… I get so angry, and I can’t control myself. I would never hurt a girl, especially not you.” What does that mean? Especially not me? You question this in your head. “Can you forgive me?” The minute you hear this, anger boils in you. You whip around and meet his gaze.

“For which part, Rafe? For beating my friend to a pulp, or for giving me a black eye?” You dig your nails into the palm of your hands as they become fists at your sides. He doesn’t say anything. His mouth opens in shock ever so slightly. His eyes become glassy as tears pool in the corners. He brings his hand to your right cheek bone, and runs his thumb over the mark he left. You squint and pull away.

“I can’t believe I did that. I never thought I could hurt a girl. I didn’t mean to. You have to believe me.” A few tears fall down his cheeks, and your gut tightens. A part of you felt bad for him. You knew you weren’t his target, but it doesn’t excuse what he did. JJ was much worse off than you. He had a busted lip, and his face was littered with bruises. You know JJ started it, but Rafe didn’t have to continue it. He was clearly winning that fight, and there was no reason to keep hitting JJ. “Can you forgive me?”

“Rafe, why do you care so much about my forgiveness. You don’t even like me or my friends. You hate Pogues.”

“Please. I just do. I need to hear you say it,” he pleads as more tears start falling. You couldn’t understand why he was so upset. You didn’t know Rafe even had this much emotion. This is the most human you have ever seen from him, but then again, you hadn’t seen much. You tried your best to not associate with the Kooks. You were a Pogue through and through, and growing up here, you do your best to stick to your side. You never really got to know Rafe, or any Kook, except for Sarah. Kiara never really counted as a Kook. You were born hating one another, and he’d done enough to your friend group for that hate to grow. You were observant enough to recognize that most things Rafe did were because of the manipulation of his father. Ward used Rafe for his own benefit. “Y/N?” You didn’t realize how lost in thought you got, and look back up at him.

“Why does it matter?”

“Because, I can’t forgive myself if you don’t forgive me. I don’t want to be a bad person. I never meant to hurt you. I would never intentionally harm you. It was an accident, a mistake. I’m so sorry, and I’m not a bad person. I promise! I just get angry. I don’t want to get angry! Please, Y/N.” He starts choking on his words as he begins to sob. You bite your lip to hold back your own tears. Seeing him break down in front of you is hard. He is usually so angry, so full of hate for the Pogues, and your friends specifically. But, seeing a man break down in tears would make anyone cry. You didn’t know what to do, so you grabbed his shoulders and brought him into a hug. He wrapped his arms around your waist and cried into your shoulder. He was much taller than you, and you had to stand on your tiptoes, he had to had to hunch over to rest his head in the crook of your neck. You couldn’t find any words to say, and felt that tightening in your stomach once more. You stayed like this for a few minutes. You ran your hand in his hair, trying to soothe him. His cologne filled your nose and it smelled amazing. Expensive, for sure. His hair was so soft between your fingers.

“Rafe, it’s alright. I forgive you, okay? I know I wasn’t who you were going after. I don’t think you’re a bad person.” He lifts his head from your shoulder. His eyes are red and puffy, but it makes them so blue. You never noticed how blue his eyes are.

“You don’t?” In this moment he’s like a little boy. His eyes are watery as he stares at you sad, and desperate for validation. His face is so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your skin. You give him a sympathetic smile, and move a strand of hair from his face.

“No, I don’t. I promise.” You wipe a tear falling down his cheek, and he leans into your hand with closed eyes, and you feel your cheeks get hot. You realize his arms are still wrapped around your waist, and there is a storm of emotion roaring through you. Guilt for even being this close to him, for comforting him. If one of your friends saw you like this, they’d be furious. Sympathy and sadness for the crying man standing in front of you. Butterflies from his hands on your back and minty breath on your flushed cheeks. You never thought of Rafe in any way other than an enemy. Never saw his soft features or chiseled jaw line. Never realized how handsome he really is. This thought makes you nervous, makes you almost sick. If anyone saw this, all hell would break loose. You wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. You wonder what he’s thinking. His eyes flutter open and he smiles. Slight dimples show on either side of his soft lips. You smile back.

“I know I’m supposed to hate you, but I’ve always thought you were so beautiful. I’ve always admired how kind you are.” Your eyes widen in shock and your breath catches in your throat. You take a big gulp, trying your best to remove the lump in your throat. He begins leaning in toward you, and his lips brush across yours as both of your eyes close.

“Rafe,” you breathe and put your hand on his chest, pushing out of his grip. “Thank you, but this,” you point between the two of you. “Whatever is happening here, is not a good idea.”

“Y/N, come on.” He grabs your hand in his.

“No, Rafe. We can’t. You’re a Kook, and not only are you a Kook, but you’re a fucking Cameron. The king of Kooks. This would be a joke. This would cause chaos.” You pull your hand away.

“Sarah and John B did it.” Your brows furrow and your mouth opens, but no words come out. You are in absolute shock. Is he really contemplating this? Is he really bringing the thought to reality?

“Rafe. We are not Sarah and John B. Look at what happened last night at the bonfire. Look at what you did to JJ.”

“JJ started it! And look at what John B did to Topper.” He was referring to the fight that broke out between them before John B and Sarah started dating.

“You mean when Topper almost drowned John B in the ocean?! And I know JJ started it, but you didn’t have to finish it. He was down Rafe. You didn’t have to keep hitting him. Look what you did to me!” You point to your face. You don’t know how this suddenly turned into you two yelling at each other.

“You Pogues always start shit, and get mad when we finish it.” You scoff at his words.

“Oh, fucking please. ‘You Pogues’. This is exactly what I’m talking about. This is why this would never work.” You’re immediately brought back to reality. You and Rafe? What a joke.

“It can work! I’m disgusted with myself for hurting you. You see that. This just worked a few minutes ago. Tell me you didn’t like that kiss.” You stay silent. You can’t say you didn’t like the kiss, because you did.

“Rafe, I know you feel bad. I thank you for apologizing, and I know it was an accident, but look at us. One minute you’re kissing me, and the next we’re yelling at each other. We’d rip each other’s throats out.”

“Or each other’s clothes off.” You’re thrown off by his words, and your belly tingles.

“Rafe! No,” you fight back a smile.

“So you liked the kiss?”

“Rafe, we can’t. If anyone knew, it would be a disaster. I think the Outerbanks would actually explode. What would your friends say? Topper, Kelce. What would mine say? I’m sure your dad is angry enough about Sarah.”

“So maybe we don’t tell anyone?”

“What?” Rafe grabs your arm and pulls you into him. You put your hands on his chest, and his arms find their way back around you. He leans in incredibly close.

“It can a secret. Our secret. Nothing official, nothing public.”

“So what, I can be your secret side piece?” You laugh at this thought.

“And I can be yours. What do you say?” The little voice in your head is screaming no. Is screaming that this is a horrible idea, but everything else is pulling you to say yes. You think for a long moment.

“No one will know?” You have to be sure no one will ever find out. If they did, your life would become a disaster.

���No one. Just us.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and grabs your chin, pulling your face to his. Your lips collide and you melt into his grasp. You wrap your arms around his neck, and stand on your toes to lean more into the kiss. You feel him smile against your lips, and you can’t help but do the same. You kiss once more before pulling away.

“Fine, as long as no one knows. Our secret.” A boyish smile spreads across his and he kisses you again.

“Our secret.”

[fieldofdaisiies]

Of Birds and Bees

paring: Elain x Lucien | type: fluff/smut | words: | warnings: explicit content playlist: this love | unconditionally | electric touch | pillow talk | daisies | fire on fire | i was made for loving you read on ao3 Happy Valentine's Day! for @sjmromanceweek💕

Lucien stopped.

Elain's forehead, coated in a thin film of sweat, lies in furrows and her lids lazily flutter open, her eyes glazed over with passion and desire. In her fully blissed-out state it is hard to form coherent thoughts, even harder to voice them.

Lucien is only looking at her, one hand, broad and veiny, braced next to her head, the fingers of the other tracing over her face. But his hips are no longer moving, his cock remaining buried deep inside of her, filling her perfectly. His heart swells with admiration and pride over his mate - this wonderful female is his. Only his.

"Wh-why did you stop?" Elain eventually asks, voice nothing more than a breathy whisper. 

Urging her hips upwards, she hopes her mate will move again. Lucien truly follows her beckons, a low, sensual chuckle rolling over his lips.

"I got distracted by how beautiful you are, and momentarily by body stopped functioning." A sheepish smile is plastered on his face, tanned cheeks now a deep red, twin flames burning in both his russet and his metal eye. "I love you, my mate."

Lucien's mouth claims hers in a hungry, almost ravishing kiss, leaving both of them breathless, lips still tingling after they part. 

His hips pick up in pace again, at first meeting Elain‘s gently, then he starts to move faster. His lips glide from her mouth down to her jaw, pressing searing kisses to her soft, and slightly damp skin. He descends further down on her, to her cleavage, then her breasts, flicking his tongue against the hardened peak before sucking it into his mouth. It elicits a whimper from Elain, accompanied by the arch of her back, perfectly bending to Lucien‘s will. 

He sometimes can be a proud and cocky male, and a groan of pure delight leaves his mouth. "Such a good girl," he purrs against her sensitive skin, his eyes dropping to where his length disappears into her body. "Look how perfectly your cunt is hugging my cock." 

His fingers dig into the soft flesh of her hips, definitely leaving marks she will see there the following day and wear with pride. His hands radiate heat, making her skin feel even tighter, hotter. 

Elain is his, only his and everyone can and should know that. Everyone has to know it and so leaving some markings on her is always good.

"I can't wait to fill you up, Elain." Lucien pushes his hips into her and she mewl. His tongue darts out, licking over her salty skin, up to the exposed column of her neck. "Watch this pretty belly of yours grow and let everyone see you are mine." He sinks his teeth into her flesh, hearing how his mate cries out - not in pain but in pure pleasure.

He pounds into her, setting a relentless rhythm that makes Elain move up on the mattress, her hips meeting his with every deep thrust. "Yes, yes!" she cries out, eyes shut, head tipped back. "I want that."

The sound of smacking flesh and a bed groaning under the impact of a couple fully engulfed in pleasure fills the room. They are nothing but heat and love, desire and lust. 

Lucien chases his mate‘s lips, his kiss deep, passionate. "You want my come leaking out from your pretty cunt? You want my scent to be on you for weeks?"

Elain merely mewls, her mind and body already entering oblivion, release nearing in waves of delirious lust.

 But Lucien has none of that – he wants to hear her pleasure-drunken voice, the breathy hue of it.

He clicks his tongue, thumb pressing down on her nipple before gives the sensitive flesh a flick. "Words, my lovely flower. I need you to say it." His lips press a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Tell me what you want."

Her nails dig into the skin of his back, leaving crescent shaped markings there — obviously everyone also needs to see that he is hers.

Elain blinks open her eyes, nothing but swirling pits of heat in them when she meets Lucien’s gaze. "I want you to fill me up so nicely your come is leaking out of me…" She swallows, cheeks burning. Only Lucien can manage to make her say such indecent things. "Put a baby in me. Make my belly swell with our child. Fill me up so much your scent won’t vanish for weeks." She sucks in a sharp intake if air. "I need you harder, Lu."

She lifts her legs, curling them around her mate, heels digging into his ass. The angle allows Lucien to drive even further into her, fucking her with newly found vigour — what she has said, how she said it and the hunger in her eyes, loosened all his restraints. His need is fully unleashed, hips snapping against hers. His pace isn’t brutal, his priority to make Elain feel good, but it brings an enormous amount of pleasure. Sex is, in the first place, always about her. Lucien knows that for him it feels good automatically. Making love to his mate, fucking her, can only bring him utter pleasure and delight as well.

She is squirming, the pitch of her moans rising at least an octave. Lucien once again finds himself fully enthralled by her - damp tendrils of hair curling around her face, cheeks flushed, her body covered in a thin film of sweat, breasts bouncing in the same rhythm of his hips snapping against hers. Lucien knows that his mate, that Elain Vanserra, is truly the most outstanding and stunning female to ever exist in this world. And she is his. Not only through the mating bond, but by choice. She has chosen him. Has chosen to accept the bond, to be with him. She is his and he is hers, by the bond and by choice. His Elain. 

Despite the lust and pleasure boiling inside of him, a huge wave of gratitude and love washes over Lucien, making his eyes fill with tears. He leans in, chasing her mouth, kissing her deeply, softly, with nothing but love and affection. "I love you so much, Elain." He speaks against het mouth, his own lips barely parting, his chest pressing against hers. But it isn’t her breasts nor her hardened nipples he is feeling - it is her heart, beating in the same rhythm as his, singing the same melody. The one melody of lovers who at last found each other. "I love you."

Elain tilts her pelvis, arms curling around Lucien‘s neck to keep him close. "I love you," she answers him. "More than words could ever express." The last part she screams, because Lucien slams in to the hilt, the crown of his cock brushing every oh so pleasurable spot deep inside of her. His hand slides down her abdomen, pressing down gently, and it elicits a cry of pleasure from his mate, that he knows, if they had neighbours they would have heard.

"We are going to be parents, Lu."

"We are," he hums and realisation settles upon him. He will be father. Earlier or later he will be a father. 

Lucien’s pace turns from fast to sensual, affectionate, hips rolling gentler against Elain’s, his thrust now deep and long, languid, making her feel every glorious inch of his cock, massaging her walls.

Her breathy moans, and the delicate curses leaving her are like music in the Vanserra male‘s ears. He loves it, could bottle it up just like the sound when she laughs. 

Lucien slides his hand into hers, interlacing their fingers, and kisses her deeply. "Say you’re mine," he whispers against her lips, voice low, guttural. 

"I am yours, Lucien. And you’re mine." Her voice is nothing but a breathy whisper, the promise in it yet clear and steadfast. 

"Fucking hell, I am. All yours, my love." His tongue glides into her mouth, brushing her gums, then meeting hers in a dance for dominance. "Equal, mate, husband, and soon the father our children."

His words and the feel of his cock buried so deep inside of her, set fire to her abdomen - autumn Court males have fire in their blood after all and whenever they make love Lucien proves this to her.

Pleasure builds, her skin prickles, her inner muscles tighten around him and when her mate rubs his thumb over her swollen clit, circling the sensitive bud, it is her undoing. She grips the sheets next to her tightly, the other hand on Lucien's shoulder, nails digging in, and falls apart, shatters. 

Her soul floats, leaving her body, explodes in colourful sprinkles. Her walls flutter around his cock and Lucien feels how heat pools in his lower back. He is close. 

Elain’s eyes roll back, her powerful and glorious mate towering over her, but she can barely make out his features through her blurry vision, shockwaves of pleasure gripping her body. But she knows it. Knows that Lucien is grinning - as bright as the sun. He made her come once again and he is proud. And happy. She has to giggle, the sound breathy, joyful. 

Lucien follows her soon after, the blissed-out appearance of his delicate mate after her climax being his undoing. It tips him right over the edge, and so do her noises. With one last, powerful thrust, he spills into her.

The growl that leaves him when he comes, doesn’t only make the cutlery in the kitchen below rattle, but also the windows of the bedroom. The entire house. 

"Gods," Elain expresses, air whooshing in and out of her lungs, limbs spasming, chest rising and falling. She brings a hand up, folding it over hear forehead, mouth agape. 

Lucien stays buried inside of her a moment longer, broad hands braced next to her body, hips rolling against hers gently, letting her come down from her high slowly. "My love," he whispers, bending down so he can kiss her brow, lips resting on her skin.

Elain meets each gentle rolls of his hips with her own, milking every last drop of his seed. 

Slowly, he pulls out of her wet heat, his come truly leaking out of her, coating the insides of her thighs and the mattress below Elain.

Using two broad fingers, Lucien scoops up his hot release, pushing it back into his mate, not able to avoid the smirk from appearing on his lips. "You’re going to be even more beautiful when you're pregnant," he whispers, kissing her bent knee.

Once done with his work, Lucien cleans his digits with his tongue, groaning deeply at the taste of his mate, devouring her once again. He debates if they should just go another round, really wanting to have her come on his tongue this time, but he decides against it. Elain looks exhausted and fully content. 

It is perfect to stop right here. So, he hooks his hand under her knee, gently lowering it to the bed. Leaning in, he pampers the soft skin of her belly with gentle pecks, the her breasts and cleavage up to her neck. "Bath, my mate?"

Elain turns her head, kissing Lucien‘s cheek. "If you carry me to the bathroom." 

She smiles at him tiredly when he gathers her in his arms, climbing off the bed.

─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ───

Elain bounces on her toes, one hand placed carefully over the small bump of her belly, the other on Lucien‘s pectoral. Her eyes are wide open, her voice hushed, cheeks rosy, when she says, "They will all know that we…had sex." 

That draws a whole-hearted loud laugh from her mate, his eyes squeezed shut, his head tipped back. 

In Elain’s ears her mate's laughter is the most beautiful sound in the whole entire world, but right in this moment she can’t fully enjoy it. 

Lucien sees the expression on her face, and gently grasps her hand, taking it into his. "My love," he says, "after accepting the bond we disappeared for two weeks, don’t you think they already knew then that we are doing more than just holding hands." He kindly smiles at her. 

Elain purses her lips and chuckles. "Och, you are right, but it is still weird, now it is like we officially announce to everyone that we—"

"–are soon going to be parents to a wonderful child." He lifts his hand to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. 

"Can you believe it?" Elain asks, her chest filling with anticipation that lets warmth spread through her entire body. 

Lucien smiles, and shakes his head. His hands cradle her face, and he leans his brows against hers, their breaths mingling in front of their faces. "It feels surreal, doesn’t it?"

"I can’t believe we get so lucky. That it worked so fast." Elain is beaming, her smile so bright and radiant, it warms Lucien‘s skin. And his heart. "That conceiving worked so fast. That we will be parents soon."

"Mhm," Lucien hums, his heart swelling with anticipation and their mixed joy. He can't believe it himself. It truly feels surreal, but the anticipation about them becoming parents might be one of the best things he has ever felt.  

"Lucien!" Elain expresses and he opens his eyes, meeting her gaze full of radiant happiness. "We are going to be parents!" 

Her mate‘s hands slide down to her hips, pulling her just an inch nearer, but so close their chests are touching. "We will provide the best childhood for our little wonder." Lucien’s voice is a little hoarse, eyes glistening with memories of his own childhood.

"We will," Elain assures him, and kisses her mate‘s cheek. "Nothing but love, and understanding and kindness for our little babe." Her arms slide around his shoulders, around his neck, and she brings Lucien in for a tight embrace, his own arms naturally curling around her waist. 

"It is cruel," he says after a moment, still holding her tightly. He's almost lifting Elain up at that point. She is standing on her tip toes, atop his toes. 

"And it should be forbidden."

"What?" Elain hums, pressing a kiss to the column of her mate‘s neck. Goosebumps appear on his flesh - he is just so sensitive there and Elain loves it.

"That being pregnant makes you even more breathtaking. You are as radiant as the sun, my love."

He means it, he truly does, she can feel it through the bond. And it does something to her. To her heart. To her eyes. She wraps her arms around him tighter, face buried in his shoulder, Lucien‘s lips finding her exposed shoulder, kissing it.

"I love you."

Later when the whole family is gathered around the table at the Riverside Estate, enjoying the lovely dishes Elain has cooked, Lucien finally lifts the protective shield he has kept over his mate the past weeks, allowing everyone to know about their little secret. 

Nesta is the first to whip her head into her little sister’s direction. Tears glisten in her eyes when she searches Elain's gaze, her lips parting. 

Her younger sister slowly bows her head, a sheepish, yet happy smile appearing on her face. 

Then Elain gets up, reaching for Lucien‘s hand. She places their intertwined hands on her small bump, and a big grin, one that reaches from one ear to the other, spreads over the male‘s face.

"There is something we need to tell you."

Cassian’s eyes dip to his sister-in-law's belly, and grinning, he leans back in his chair, on hand always carefully holding his daughter who sits on his right thigh, playing with a little doll. And of course the doll has little wings, she was a gift from aunt Emerie. 

"Go on, Laney," Cassian says. 

Elain and Lucien share their happiness with their family and are immediately embraced in hugs and congratulations, joyful chatter filling every nook of the house.

Nyx and Alayla are more than excited to meet their new cousin, bombarding Elain with questions how it is possible for baby to be in het belly. And how it got in there. And when they will finally be able to meet them. Nyx is sure it will be a boy. Alayla glowers at him and tells him she knows it will be a girl. Laughing, Elain cuddles them both to her chest, their tiny hands resting atop her belly. 

─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ───

"He is kicking." A boyish giggle parts Lucien's lips, his grin spreading from one ear to the other. "I can feel it. He's strong already, his tiny foot kicking my hand." 

Lucien kisses Elain's neck, his broad, warm hand placed atop Elain‘s round belly, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"He?" Elain asks with a smile, one brow lifted, a questioning look on her face. 

Her mate grins in answer, purely male pride etched upon his features. "Yes, he. Little Lucien." 

"What about a little Elain?"

"Two of you? Oh the mother protect me!" Lucien laughs loudly, and after shoving at his shoulder Elain joins in, laughing from the bottom of her heart. Obviously she wouldn’t be mad at him, this was a joke and she loves her mate’s jokes.

He wraps his arm around her shoulders and brings her in for a hug. "Whatever our little one will be, I will love them endlessly and I don’t care one bit about their gender."

Elain leans into him, releasing a contented sigh. He is so good. Her mate is so good. So different-minded to the standards he was born into where males always counted more than females.

"Another kick," he hums, his other hand still on her belly. "Can you feel it?"

"I can, Lu." A single tear slides down Elain’s cheek. "And it is wonderful. I wonder if they will be as active as their father." Elain sighs happily, her chest swelling with the love she already feels for the little one.

"Probably," Lucien chuckles. "But one thing I know for sure is that our little one will be as beautiful as their mother."

─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ───

"I don’t know," Elain sobs, fisting Lucien’s shirt. "I put the vase here and now it is gone. I don't know where it disappeared to. It was here. But it isn't anymore."

"And that is so bad you have to cry about it, my—?"

"Yes, it is!" Elain steps away from her mate, glowering, hands no longer fisting his shirt, but her palms are now pressed flat against his pectorals. "How dare you not see how dramatic the situation really is?" She rolls her eyes and gives her head a shake, snarling. 

Lucien calls upon all his restraints to not burst into laughter — those damn mood swings, he thinks and brings his hands up to fold them over Elain's. 

"Padron, my lovely flower, I'll help you find the vase."

"You better do," Elain pulls her hands out of his hold. "And you better do it quick, otherwise the flowers die." Her lower lip quavers, tears glistening in her eyes again. 

Mother save me, Lucien thinks when his mate storms out of the kitchen, leaving him behind, slightly overwhelmed with the situation. But Cassian has already warned him about how bad the mood swings can be, especially for fae females. Not only once, had Nesta thrown something at the general and then stormed off, only to return crying the next moment, worrying he might end the mating bond with her. It isn't much different with her little sister, Lucien thinks. 

The male turns his head and looks at the top-most shelf and spots the vase in an instant. He has to chuckle to himself. He reaches for the vase, then puts water in it and lastly the flowers. He is about to call for his mate when she already bursts through the door, tears cascading down her rosy cheeks. 

"You don't hate me now, do you?" Her lower lip is pouted and she hurdles to her mate, hugging him as good as possible with the round belly. "Please, don't hate me."

"I don't hate you, my love." Lucien kisses the top of her head, chuckling a little. "I love you and you throwing a tantrum because of a vase won't—"

"I didn't throw a tantrum. I only—"

Lucien shuts her up with a kiss, his index finger placed beneath her chin. Tilting her head up while he bends down, Lucien deepens the kiss and turns them so Elain's backside is pressed against the counter. A small gasp leaves her when he parts her lips with his tongue, gently letting it brush against hers.

"It's just a vase, my love," he whispers against her lips, his breath tingling her skin. 

"But the flowers. The would have died." She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Thank the Gods, I could save them." Lucien's lips split into a grin and Elain tilts her head to the side so she can look past him, at the beautiful vase with her bouquet in it. "Thank you," she whispers, letting her hands glide up the front of his shirt. "You are truly the best mate to ever exist." 

Her grin mirrors his, her smile so radiant it lights up the whole kitchen. 

Lucien's hands drop to her hips and he lets them glide down, giving her rear a gentle, two-handed squeeze that has himself groaning and Elain giggling. 

Her arms curl around his strong chest, the side of her head resting against his hard muscles. She draws in his scent and relishes it. Lucien holds her tightly, listening to the soft thrumming of their heartbeats, marvelling at Elain's scent and the feeling of her round belly against his chest, the happiness about the life growing inside of her.

"Lucien," Elain mumbles after a small moment and tips her head back, chin resting against his chest. 

"Hm?" He looks down at her and finds sudden fire, twin flames of passion, burning brightly in her eyes. 

"I am exceptionally needy for my mate. You think you can help me there?"

─── ⋆⋅ ♡ ⋅⋆ ───

"Bloody, burning hell!" Elain nails dig into Lucien’s hand, most definitely leaving some marks there. 

Each contraction tightens around her belly like an invisible vice, fierce and harsh, her insides feeling like they are shredded apart. And somehow they truly are.

The scent of lavender lies in the air, but Elain can’t even focus on it, her whole body is on fire, her skin damp with sweat, tendrils of hair sticking to her forehead.

"Cauldron," she breathes, and squeezes her eyes shut. "This is excruciating."

"You are doing so well, my mate," Lucien comforts his mate. He leans in and kisses her sweat-glazed cheek, his hand naturally coming up to stroke his fingers over her cheek. "Keep going just like this."

Elain huffs. Easier said then done. Her butt hurts, so do her knees, and her heels — she has been pressing them into the mattress for what feels like hours. Days. Years. But nothing, absolutely nothing, absolutely no pain, compares to what it is like to push a baby out of you.

Elain’s breaths come in shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling in sync with the waves of pain that surge through her body. 

Her thin nightgown is damp as well, sticking to her body like a second skin. Beads of sweat gather on her brow and before Lucien gets a chance to wipe them away, his mother steps in, gently and with utmost care, tabbing Elain's forehead dry with a soft cloth. 

"How did you do this seven times?" Elain mewls, her head lolling to the side, resting on Lucien’s strong shoulder. 

"Not once was it a piece of cake, but every time worth it," Imala smiles, sweeping the cloth over Elain‘s cheek before she pushes off the bed to discard of it. "And you are doing so well, Elain. Just a few more pushes, keep going. You are so strong, I know you can do it."

"Thank you," Elain wants to smile, but another contraction tears through her body, making her whimper loudly, her hold on Lucien’s hand tightening. He wonders how blood still flows into his fingers, thinking the grip Elain has on him must at one point cut off the blood flow. But it is alright. For Elain he would walk over burning coals and travel to Hell itself.

"I can't do this, Lucien! It hurts so much." Elain‘s voice quivers, tinged with desperation. Another contraction tightens its grip, and Elain feels it everywhere.

Lucien leans in closer, his voice a steady anchor amidst the whirlwind of pain and emotions. "Yes, you can, my love. You're so strong."

She whimpers again, brows lying in furrows. "It just hurts so much."

"I know it does and I wish I could take the pain away from, my love, but it is only a little more. Only a little longer."

Together with Majda, Lucien helps Elain get onto her knees, his hand resting on her back, thumb drawing idle circles on her skin.

"The baby's almost here, Elain. You're so close, you’re nearly fully dilated," Madja comforts, voice calm and nothing but kind assurance in it.

"Push!"

Elain does as told, every muscle in her body pulsating with effort. She cries out again, pure agony in the raw sound. 

It’s hurts Lucien to see his mate like that, to watch her go through so much pain and not being able to help. He can’t take the pain from her, and this helplessness…

"Don’t look like there has been rain for months, Lu. You aren't the one giving birth."

A lopsided grin appears on his face and he leans in, kissing Elain's temple. "But I hate seeing my mate in so much pain."

"It will be—f-fucking hell!" The room almost vibrates with her cry. Lucien grimaces. He has never expected that his mate could curse like a sailor, nevertheless would curse like one.

But Majda ignores all the vulgar words — it is probably not the first time she hears them from a female who is about to give birth.

"That is good, Elain, keep going." She gently strokes her hand down Elain’s thigh, offering words of comfort and encouragement. "I can see the head already. Keep pushing. You are doing a great job."

So, Elain pushes again and then pain is agonising. Beads of sweat glisten on her forehead as she grips sheets below her and Lucien‘s hand on the other side, her knuckles white from the effort.

As Elain gathers her strength, her body responds to it, and despite the excruciating pain she manages to push again. Lucien seems to hold his breath, tension so high, his heart nearly bursts out of his chest, his skin clammy. 

"My love," he whispers, "you are doing so well." Despite the blood flow to his hand probably being cut off because his mate‘s grip is like a vice, he strokes his thumb over her fingers. "Keep going. You are so strong. You’re soon there."

The contractions are becoming more painful with each passing minute, but Elain is encouraged by her mate’s voice. His presence alone comforts her, empowers her. Lucien would never leave her, he will always be by her side, always supports her. He will hold her hand throughout everything. No matter what. He will go every step of the way with her. And she knows that if he could take her pain away, he would. He would sit here in agony if only it meant she wouldn't have to feel any kind of pain. 

"I love you." Elain’s voice is barely above a whisper, but Lucien hears her words. Feels them through the bond.

"More than anything else in this world," he answers and kisses the top of her head. Her hair is damp, so is her skin, cheeks flushed but to Lucien she is still the most beautiful female that there is. 

Another contraction tears through her, shattering her insides, and Elain pushes once again. Pushes hard and many times, Lucien not once letting go of her hand. A tremor courses through her, and with her last ounce of energy, she pushes and a sound of triumph leaves Majda.

Elain slumps against her mate, crying out, exhaustion and relief washing over her in tidal waves. She is sobbing, wetting Lucien’s shirt and he is crying with her when Madja cradles the little babe to her chest after having cut through the umbilical cord. Elain is drained, feels both mentally and physically exhausted, but all she cares about is seeing her baby. She wants to turn but she is in pain, everything hurts. She shifts and tumbles, trying to keep her eyes open, trying to search for her baby, tries to hear her baby, but there is no noise. Her lids feel heavy, her vision blurry, her head pounding, a haze lying in her head. 

"Lu?" she breathlessly expresses, voice tinged with panic.

"It’s all good," he says, but his own heartbeat increases, cold sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. But is it truly?

Lucien helps his mate lower herself to the bed before his head whips to Madja. In the corner of his eye, he spots his mother rushing to the healer and the babe in her arms. Why isn’t the little one crying? It should be crying. Lucien heart drops into his stomach. 

Time seems to slow until it comes to a full standstill. Silence falls upon the room, almost like everyone holds their breath. No one dares to move or say anything until—

A piercing cry tears through the silence, and relief settles upon everyone, most importantly Elain and Lucien begin to shed more tears. 

Wrapped in a soft, light green blanket, Majda hands the tiny little bundle to Elain. With a smile on her lips she says, "Congratulations on your son, Elain, Lucien."

Elain feels a sense of joyful relief when she the newborn is placed in her arms, when she feels his presence for the very first time, no longer inside her belly but in her arms. 

He is so tiny, so fragile, almost as light as a feather. Tears cascade down Elain’s flushed cheeks as she cradles the little baby in her arms. 

Lucien leans in, crying tears of pure joy, and pampering his mate’s head with many kisses. And enormous sense of love floods Elain and a sob rips itself free - he is beautiful. And looks just like she imagined Lucien had looked like as a babe. The little boy’s skin is dark and atop his head he already has a dusting of auburn hair. He is tiny, almost nothing in her arms, but he is warm and soft, lying on her chest, on her rapidly beating heart. 

"Lu," Elain whispers and turns her head. She kisses her mate’s cheek, wet with his and now also her own tears. "He is beautiful."

Silent sobs still leave the Vanserra male when his mother steps into him, her hands placed on his shoulders, lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. Lucien lifts his hand, stroking his index finger (which looks absolutely gigantic next to the little bundle) over their son’s tiny cheek.

He leans in again, his eyes shimmering with tears of joy and pride. "You were incredible, Elain. I'm so proud of you."

Madja wipes the cloth over Elain’s forehead once more before she steps away, Imala following her, giving the new parents space. 

"You've brought a beautiful life into this world," she whispers before closing the door behind her.

Elain wants to thank her, but the healer is already gone, so she shifts on the bed, making room for Lucien. He slings his arm around her shoulders, letting her rest against his chest, his hand moving hers. The one she has placed on the little bundle.

Lucien leans his head against Elain’s, both their eyes focused on the little wonder in Elain‘s arms. "Ash?"

"Yes," Lucien hums, squeezing her to him, his heart beating in the same rhythm as hers. "I love it. I love you." 

He revels in her scent and the soft giggle that parts her lips when she moves her index finger over the babies face, almost like she wants to memorise every little feature of their baby boy. "Ash Vanserra," she softly hums. "I already know he will be a little troublemaker, but we couldn't love him any more for it."

tags: @rippahwrites @shadowhunter2003 @my-inner-crisis @ladyelain @acourtofthought @itwasalwaysaboutthetea @multifictional @moonlightazriel @brekkershadowsinger @sunshinebingo @gracie-rosee @a-frog-with-a-laptop @aayo-whatt @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @thelovelymadone

[jjunberry]

HE LOVES ME NOT ˚* ❀ part six ✎

wc! 900

true to his word jake arrived back at her dorm in fifteen minutes. he drove around for a few minutes before she decided on stopping at a convenience store. “let’s have some ramen.” she said, filling the basket with different snacks. jake put some snacks he liked in as well before taking their ramen to cook it for them. she took the basket to pay for everything.

“you didn’t have to pay for this stuff.” he scolded her. “i was going to.” a pout took over his face. she smiled. “i’ll let you pay next time.” she patted his cheek. “so there is going to be a next time?” y/n shrugged. “i don’t see why not.” he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face. the pair sat quietly and ate their ramen. ‘’not to sound rude but why did you ask me to hang out, instead of one of your friends?” the girl sighed. “because they would question me about my boyfriend and i really don’t want to talk about him right now.”

jake nodded before taking a bite of his ramen. “well i’ll be glad to be your distraction and not talk about your totally shitty boyfriend.” y/n groaned and pushed jake’s shoulder. he let out a loud laugh. “jake stop it.” she couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “can i ask you one thing about him though?” she nodded. “sure.” jake turned towards the girl. “ if he continues to hurt you like this why are you staying with him? and please don’t tell me it’s because you love him.”

she sighed and looked at her lap. “ i guess it’s because he’s all i’ve ever known, he was my first kiss, my first time, my first everything.” jake nodded for her to continue. ‘’ he’s older than me, so no one knows about our relationship..” “oh my god are you in danger? i can get a hold of people who can help you.” she placed her hand over his mouth. “no i’m not in danger. he’s twenty-two and i’ll be turning twenty in a month. i met him here.” jake sighed. “i don’t know y/n he seems pretty shitty.” she sighed. “so everyone says.” “but enough about him, let’s go for a walk.”

jake stood and placed his hand out for her to take. she smiled and took his hand. they aimlessly walked around the less crowded streets for what felt like hours. she didn’t mind though. the time she was spending with jake was relaxing. freeing almost. the pair somehow ended up back at the park they first met just a few hours prior. “it’s so peaceful here at night.” she said taking a seat on the same cold bench. the stem of her daisy still laid a few feet away. a soft breeze blew and she watched as the wind carried it.

“i come here a lot while i wait for my friends to be done in the bar.” jake said taking a seat next to her. “that sounds like it happens way to often.” he laughed. “unfortunately, i wish they’d cut back a little, like today they were there since eleven this morning.” y/n sighed. “ sounds like you need better friends.” he shrugged. “no they’re pretty cool when they are black out drunk.” y/n nodded. another gust of wind blew causing y/n to shiver. jake noticed and quickly shed his hoodie and handed her the soft material. she looked up at him. “oh jake i couldn’t take this from you, you’d be cold.” he shook his head. “i’ll be fine just wear it.”

she sighed before putting the hoodie on. it was warm and smelled like his cologne.”thank you jake.” he smiled. “not a problem, i couldn’t have you freeze to death.” she giggled. she checked her phone and realized it was four-thirty am. “we should probably head back, i have a lecture at eleven today.” jake frowned. “time really flies when you’re having fun.” she smiled. “come on lets go.” she stood up and they walked back to his car. she was sad to be dropped off if she was being honest. she enjoyed her time with jake and didn’t really want the night to end. jake watched to make sure she got inside safely before he took off back to his dorm.

he placed his hand on the door knob but it opened from the inside. a girl wearing little to nothing smiled and walked past him. ‘’hey tell heeseung thanks for tonight for me? thanks.” she blew a kiss and walked away. jake rolled his eyes before shutting the door. jay was in the kitchen chugging water. “hey man where were you?” he asked. “i was out.” jake gave a short reply and walked to his room.

across campus y/n’s alarm blared and she jolted awake. not really into the mood she pulled on a pair of leggings leaving jake’s hoodie on. after she freshened up she headed to classes. jungwon met her before classes holding coffees. her eyes light up seeing the cups containing caffeine. “you’re a life saver wonnie.” “is that a new hoodie?” he asked. she looked down at her appearance. jake’s hoodie stared back at her. “yeah.” was all she said before taking a drink of her coffee. once sunoo joined them they headed to their respective lectures.

y/n had completely missed the glare shot at her. heeseung watched her approach jungwon wearing a hoodie he didn’t recognize. it made his blood boil. with a clenched jaw he headed to his lecture.

during her lecture y/n’s phone was buzzing with messages. when the class was finally over she checked her messages and rolled her eyes. he really had some nerve. deciding to ignore the messages she began walking home. tears swelled in her eyes as more messages from heeseung came in.

masterlist

tag list ˚* ❀ @jjunieworld @304files @mrchweeee @sionshiii @kayleeshinee (if your name is bold i couldn’t tag you)

author’s note ˚* ❀ we all need a jake for late night ramen 🤩

love, echo🖤

© jjunberry

[unholyhelbig]

Around season 4: Skye/Daisy Johnson. Reader is a Winter Soldier like Bucky and has been part of the team since the beginning. Reader’s has always been there for the team especially Daisy, and has a huge crush on her, painfully watching on as she goes out with different people. Now the Reader needs help but doesn’t want it, what will Daisy and the team do?

Title: No Control (Daisy Johnson x Female!Reader)

Words: 2452

Trigger Warnings: Blood, mind control, manipulation, night terrors, talks of death, horrible grammar (Let me know if I should add more)

[A/n: Okay, I may have deviated from the prompt just a little bit, but in my defense, this is technically my first time writing Reader/Daisy Johnson so I had to feel it out a little!]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

The rope dug into your skin like a nasty row of teeth, biting at the skin, drawing a flourishing flash of bright blood. The image made you pull harder in a vicious tug of strength. Your jaw ached, tasted thick of metal. If you could just get out of this stupid chair, this horrible cell. It was much too small for your liking.

Quake, Daisy as you knew her, watched you with a lifted eyebrow. Her fingers were curled around the iPad that connected her to the controls of your containment. She grimaced, a wetness building in her stare.

When your struggle against the ropes had proved fruitless, you glanced up at her through wild, unkept hair, chest heaving. “What did you do to me? Why can’t I get out of this? Let me out of this!”

It felt like you were underwater, your chest heavy with discontent, even when you went slack in your binds. The first inkling that something was wrong had been swallowed down, the nightmares that ripped through your subconscious and pulled you from sleep.

For weeks, you’d wake up drenched in your own sweat as you tried to draw any type of air into your lungs. It often ended with you sitting, exhausted and scared, in the kitchen of the compound. First, you’d drink a cup of tea, then you’d pace and drink another, before finally succumbing to exhaustion on the common room sofa.

Agent May had found you the first night, just before dawn. She didn’t’ poke or prod, instead, she gently woke you and wordlessly gestured back towards your bunk. Other agents would be walking in and out, scourging for breakfast and their own fix of caffeine.

Those dreams- those nightmares- would soon leak into your everyday routine. As you sparred with Bobbie, you’d thrown a particularly deadly right hook. It was the color of her eyes, the seafoam dusty grey that you’d always found so endearing flashed and ripped into his gaze.

You’d drawn blood and stumbled back on the blue mat. Other recruits gaped at the two of you, floating by the edge of the training room. Bobbi pulled her fingers from the laceration on her cheek, already forming a bruise.

“I’m sorry,” came your whispered response. You grabbed your bag from the nearby bench, louder this time “really, I’m sorry.”

Bobbi called after you as you pushed open the doors of the training room and shoved through agents until you made it to the safety of your room. Except, it didn’t’ feel much like safety anymore. Your fingers were shaking, and your knuckles had a smear of dried brown blood, Bobbi’s blood, against them.

It had been years, nearly a decade, since you’d first been approached by Phil Coulson with his grandiose idea of forming a team to take down hero-level threats within SHIELD, because after all, everyone needs a backup plan. And while you’d been hesitant at first, that single decision in a Montanna bar changed the course of your life. Changed your isolation tactics, the person you had once been.

SHIELD was your family. They’d slowly ebbed away the distant memories of what had created you in the first place: the brainwashing, the torture, the misguided loyalty was all on the backburner. You’d forgotten just how cold it was.

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong.

Without warning, the icy hand of your captor was closing around your throat once more, but this time, you were surrounded with people who you cared for. The thought of hurting them had you hunched over the bathroom in your room, retching whatever mint-tea concoction you’d swallowed down hours before.

At one point, you blacked out, and when you came to, when you finally pulled yourself from the scent of bile and blood and regret, you were here. They’d moved you to a containment unit and restrained you with ropes that did no favor to your already aching body.

Your fingers were still coated in blood, too much to be from your outburst in the gym. And while you still panicked, while you were still choked with fear, there was a calmness about the situation. If you were in here, you weren’t out there. With them.

“Whose blood is this?” you asked.

“Hard to say,” Daisy replied. “You did quite the number. It’s hard for agents to fight off a super soldier, you know?”

Your jaw began to ache as you pressed your teeth together, peering at her through strands of sweat-caked hair. The rope wouldn’t hold you for long, but the containment unit would. There was an electric buzz from the forcefield strong enough to hold back ten-thousand super soldiers.

Daisy had a tepid stare trained on you that made you squirm. You tested your strength against your binds, pressing and pressing until the frayed edges drew blood, dripped down the tips of your fingers until the floor was puddled with it.

A laugh bubbled up in your throat. You lolled your head, trying to loosen up your shoulders. Everything was weak and fuzzy and above all else, you felt the hiss of someone’s voice in the back of your mind. Eyes seeing through your eyes, hands gripping past your own.

There was a poison to Daisy’s voice “You just leveled a room full of twenty-five agents and you’re laughing?”

She’d clicked off the iPad, set it aside. Daisy stood and crossed her well-toned arms over her chest. God, even in your disillusioned state, you were acutely aware of your feelings for her. They’d been festering under the surface for a better part of the last three years.

“No, no… I just…”

With an extra tug, the mass of rope fell to the ground in a heap of ties and caked blood. You couldn’t distinguish your own from those of the agents that you be felled. Your fingers worked at the lacerations.

“You’ve got a very motherly tone right now. I mean, you’re scolding me, actually scolding me!”

“What do you expect me to do, y/n? What I witnessed in there was one of the scariest, most startling things I have ever seen and you expect me not to scold you? What the fuck is going on?”

Her voice cracked during the last sentence and your heart tugged at the sound. You’d heard it before as she sunk to the floor years ago when Lincon had perished, and when she’d succumbed to the fear of her own powers growing out of control.

The part of you that was still you didn’t want to cause that pain, and most certainly didn’t want the fear to take over. You stood, approaching the barrier. It was the only thing between you both, and it was highly charged.

You’d been tempted to touch it, to place your hand against the electricity save for the pain. Instead, you started pacing back and forth, the length of your makeshift cell. “This is where we held Agent Ward, isn’t it?”

She didn’t’ answer, instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat as you examined the metal frame bed and the cameras that were situated around each corner of the cell. Part of you swelled with pride, being confined in the same spot the biggest threat to the team had been in. You quickly drowned the thought, shaking your head.

 “Does it bother you? Watching two people you love fall down the same path?” The words had slipped past your lips before you could quell them. Instead, you tutted “You’re well on your way to a pattern, young lady. One more good-looking sociopath and you’ll collect all three.”

“Don’t,” Daisy snarled “You need to tell me what’s wrong. This isn’t you.”

You stopped pacing, lilting your head to the side as you stared at her. She was itching to leave, and you wanted her to. It would make all of this easier. Your entire body itched too, wanted to give in to the full control. It wasn’t something you were willing to do in front of Daisy.

“Do you know how much control I have to practice on a daily basis, Zee? Just a little more strength than usual and I rip a cabinet door off. I shatter a mug. I punch a co-worker in the face. It’s a constant push between what’s right to do and what I was designed to do.”

“So what? You decided you’re done watching your strength? That doesn’t warrant an attempt at massacre.”

“You don’t get it!” You punched the barrier, reveling in the feel of electricity that moved through your fingertips, your arm and elbow until it dissipated altogether. She flinched but didn’t step back. “When Hydra… why Hydra trained me it was all I knew. I would wake up, follow orders, and be put back to sleep before I could even register what I had done. Who I had killed, what I destroyed.”

This was something you had refused to talk about. Coulson knew the gist of your containment, of your de-programming because that was all listed in your SHIELD file. But the true horrors of your ordeal were a mystery to the entire team. It was behind you. He was behind you.

“A SHEILD team raided one of Hydras bases and I was there. I was willing to go without a fight and Hydra was willing to leave me there to absolve for their sins.” You chuckled at that, shaking your head “There was months of imprisonment, of interrogation and then deprogramming. And finally, finally after years of trying to prove myself to Director Fury, and Agent Hill, they cleared me for duty. Cleared me to join Coulson’s team.”

You let yourself plop down onto the metal chair, suddenly too exhausted to remember why you were fighting so hard in the first place. Daisy clenched and unclenched her jaw. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Two years of deprogramming doesn’t make up for a lifetime of torture, of molding me into the perfect killing machine.” You swallowed hard “I played my part, I ignored the feeling of being watched, the dark thoughts that tried to break through into my new, good, life. I fought every single day to make sure all of you were safe and unharmed and… suddenly, suddenly the people who were controlling me got stronger.”

Daisy shifted, uncrossing her arms “You’re saying you’re still under Hydra’s control?”

“I’m saying I wasn’t strong enough to fight off their hold on me. A few months ago I started blacking out and the nightmares, they got worse. But everyone was finally settled, finally happy. We were happy”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Daisy’s voice waivered “Y/n, one of the perks of having a girlfriend is being able to talk to them, to tell them things. You should have come to me.”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I thought I could handle it. I thought I could keep things under control.”

Daisy let out a long sigh and lowered herself back into her own chair. Her elbows resting on her knees. She bounced her leg, staring at you with those deep brown eyes that you could drown in. Somehow, her being there, was enough if only for a moment.

“I have to tell Coulson.”

“I know,” you said.

“He’ll know what to do. We’ll get through this, y/n.” Her words were whispered, eyes glassy with emotion. “I love you. We all do. This is just another challenge, okay? We’re here to help.”

“I admire your perseverance, Daisy, but the hold hydra has on me. It’s bigger than me, it’s bigger than us.”

She swallowed thickly “You don’t mean that.”

But you did, didn’t you? Your skin felt like it was on fire and you wanted nothing more than to peel it off strip by strip until there was a new layer glinting under the industrial lights. Anything to stop the uncomfortable feeling of not being in your own body. You’d gotten to complicit under the watchful eye of SHIELD. Hydra didn’t like that, and at this point, neither did you.

It had been so easy, so simple to rip through those agents as they aimed red dots at your center. You didn’t care if they fired their weapons, you hadn’t a care in the world and it was freeing.

It was hard to wager that with the sad look your girlfriend was giving you now. Her fingers were tapping against her knees, hardly a perfect interrogation technique. It was hard not to crave her touch, her mouth hot on yours. Even if you did give yourself up to Hydra entirely, there would always be Daisy.

You lilted your head, narrowing your eyes at her. She’d be just as easy to break; just a little bit of homegrown brainwashing and she’d be by your side again. Both of you dripping in blood. A power like hers, resting under her fingertips, would be invaluable.

Standing, you gently touched the barrier separating you both. There was a subtle electronic buzz that moved through your fingertips and up to your elbow. It was warming, a constant comfort, almost. “Darling, we could make all of this go away. Just the two of us.”

She lifted her hazel stare from the tablet in front of her, reading your vitals like an open book. They were steady, you were sure of it. There was curiosity in her stare.

“Do you remember the house in Vermont we talked about?” You dragged your fingers against the barrier, a blue trail following fast. “The two of us can forget all of this, forget SHIELD and Hydra. We can go there, start a family. Isn’t that what you want?”

You could read it in her expression, it was exactly what she wanted. But Daisy Johnson was no fool. Despite your terse begging and manipulative tactics, she remained calm. One knee was balanced on the edge of the chair, the other foot planted firmly on the floor.

“Rae’s Restaurant… the floorplan that we drew out on the back of a placemat. Two stories, a nursery, and office. A massive backyard. I remember it well.” Daisy stood again, facing off against you with nothing but an electrical panel holding you back. “This isn’t the you I imagined it with. Where is the kindness? The selfless woman that I fell in love with?”

You gritted your teeth. “Gone. Nothing but a fabrication, baby. I’m just offering you one last chance to join me. I have no reservations about destroying you right along with this entire organization.”

Daisy swallowed hard, trying to quell the lump in her throat. She refused to let herself cry. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I do love a challenge.”   

[reasonsmandy]

With love, Eddie Roundtree

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — saw you're taking requests for eddie roundtree x reader so i wanted to ask if you could do something inspired by either tear in my heart (twenty one pilots) or lets fall in love for the night (finneas)!! love ur writing btw!!

✧.* you're reading part one, here's the sequel — Dear Eddie Roundtree

✧.* summary — Your life in the acting business has been very stressful, but in one night Eddie makes you forget about it all.

✧.* warnings — Extremely fluffy content, mentions of drinking and drugs.

✧.* word count — 2.2k

✧.* 🎸 — Eddie's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — I tried to mix a little bit of the two songs, I don't know if I managed to do something very good. but i hope you like it 🫶🏾

"We'll send Harold to your set more often, the gossip magazines will start planting the idea that you two are together." Your manager said excitedly, he insisted on the idea that you should fake a relationship with actor Harold Schmidt. "I can already see the headlines: Y/N L/N and Harold Schmidt the Hollywood lovebirds"

"That would be the most ridiculous thing I've ever read!" You say rolling your eyes with a glass of water in hand.

"Well, I don't care!" Your manager says, getting a little mad. "You know you need these rumors to boost your name, and you're lucky that Harold agreed to fake this relationship with you."

"I don't need anyone to get my name to boost Adam!" You say irritably. "And besides, no one will believe I have something with this guy, we never talked before!"

"Stop making things more complicated Y/N." He says. "You know it's going to be the best for your career, now rest … tomorrow we have recording early"

He leaves you alone in your apartment, you put your face to the pillow and let out a scream in it. Being an actress was amazing, but there were things that frustrated you a lot in the profession like what you were experiencing now, you had never exchanged a word with this Harold guy and now you had to pretend to be madly in love with him for everyone. Just thinking about it sounded crazy.

Despite all this fake dating mess Adam wanted to shove you down into, you couldn't stop thinking about what happened a few days ago. You received an invitation to attend the party of the band Daisy Jones and the six. It was a really fun night where you finally managed to distract yourself a little and it was also the night you met Eddie Roundtree, one of the nicest people you've come in contact with in such a long time.

Let's say you had gotten along quite well…

You weren't really in the mood to leave your apartment, but you felt that if you stayed another two hours listening to your manager talk about absurd things about how you should fake a scandal for your name to go up you would go crazy. So when Daisy Jones' invitation reached you, you thought: Why not?

Which was exactly why you were now in Billy Dunne's backyard, having a beer and smoking a joint. Nothing very interesting seemed to happen around you and there wasn't anyone very interesting to talk to.

Well, at least the music is good... You thought.

As you traveled in your thoughts and watched the unknown people around you, Eddie Roundtree watched you too, he stared at you trying to remember where he knew you from.

"I'm telling you man, she must have stopped by the studio sometime." Warren says to the bassist.

"I'm sure that's not it, otherwise I wouldn't remember her" Eddie says frustrated.

"Eddie, man!" Warren changed his expression, he looked amazed at something. "Rollerball!!! She was in the Rollerball movie!"

"Holy shit, that was it! I knew I knew her somewhere." Eddie beams, overjoyed that he finally remembered. "I didn't remember she was so beautiful, man…"

"Go talk to her!" The drummer says, pushing his friend towards the actress.

You notice the two best friends laughing and pointing in your direction, not understanding you turn to look behind you but no one was there. You arch your eyebrows hoping they'll notice that you saw them, which takes a few minutes to happen.

The blonde approaches you, with a smile on his face and two beers in his hand. He sits down next to you, handing you the drink.

"I have a challenge for you." he says, catching your attention. "Tell me a song you like and if I get a part of the lyrics right, you spend the night talking to me."

"Look, I didn't even need the challenge, I really would have talked to you without a problem" You say laughing. "But since you offered…"

Eddie Roundtree: I was so lucky that Camila showed me this song *chuckled*

Y/N L/N: He had changed 50% of the words in the song but he seemed like a nice guy, so I pretended he got it right.

"Y/N that's my name" you say while taking a sip of beer "You are?"

"I'm Eddie" he smiles, taking a closer look at your face.

You spent a few hours talking about everything, it was impressive how he managed to talk about any subject you proposed. He really seemed to be interested in what you had to say, something you missed. You told him that since you moved to Los Angeles you haven't been to any of the tourist spots in the area, which he found absurd, and that's why you were in Roundtree's car going through the city streets with no final destination.

"I can't believe we're doing this" you laugh at the situation, probably the beers you had had made you a little happy. "I don't even know you well and I'm in your car going to unknown places."

"Ouch!" He pretends to be offended. "I told you my whole life tonight, what do you mean you don't know me?"

"Oh yes, of course I apologize" You laugh looking deep into his eyes, something inside you wanted to be closer to him.

"Wanna get a swim?" he says, parking the car close to the beach, you could hear the waves from afar.

"That's a terrible idea..." You say getting out of the car, alarmed he gets out too. "I'm in!"

You take off your shoes leaving them near the car, running wildly towards the dark sea. Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, taking his shoes off and chasing after you, or at least trying to.

You wait for him where you could just feel the water on your feet, he approaches holding you by the waist and going with you into the sea. Would it be crazy to feel so connected to someone in one night? You didn't know, and you didn't care! When the icy water came into contact with your body and his body heat kept that feeling more intense, nothing else mattered.

Trying to fix the locks of your hair, you looked at him in disbelief with everything you were experiencing that night, it's been so long since you've felt alive like this, free from any pressure.

"I feel like I've known you since forever, Eddie Roundtree." You whisper, kissing the blonde's lips intensely.

He holds you tighter, as if he wants to remember this moment forever, the fear of forgetting what he was experiencing in the morning was intense. After all, with all that they had both smoked and drunk, it was probably that the passion, that love, would fade from their memories during their rest until tomorrow.

The early morning wind hits your bodies making you shiver with cold. You soon decided it was better to get back in the car and go somewhere else. Eddie didn't care that the car would be wet because of your clothes, nothing else mattered to him, that night was so intense and wonderful that he just wanted to stop time to have you there with him a little more.

And logically, after smoking so much, the munchies hit, so nothing more plausible than changing your destination to the nearest bar. It was hard to find anything open at that hour, but after several turns you finally managed to spot one.

There were just the two of you and one other man who was clearly begging for you two to leave as soon as possible, so he could get to sleep.

"I don't think I'll remember anything tomorrow, my head is already exploding" You say, drinking some of the juice you ordered.

"Is that so?" Eddie asks, stroking your hand across the table.

"Uhum" You mumbled, and he could tell that you were getting tired and needed some sleep. "But don't worry, I promise you that if I forget about you tomorrow I at least fell in love with you tonight."

Your words made him feel butterflies in his stomach, he looked at you with affection and without containing the smile that grew on his face. He didn't want to settle for the idea that he wouldn't see you anymore.

"Did you fall in love with me too Eddie Roundtree?" You say sleepily, slurring your words as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

"I for sure did, Y/N L/N." He says, getting up to pay the bill. A few seconds later he comes back. "Can you tell me where you live? I will drop you off at home."

"No please, I want to spend more time with you." You whisper, closing your eyes with long blinks.

"I promise you will see me again" He says, stroking your hair. "Now tell me pretty girl, where can I drop you off?"

You tell the bassist the address of your apartment, so soon after he takes you to the car trying his best to avoid making you feel the wind with wet clothes, afraid you might catch the flu or something.

As the sun slowly rose, you fell asleep in the passenger seat. Roundtree slowed the car down so as not to wake you up with the potholes in the road leading to your house. Admiring you in the moments when he didn't have to keep his eyes on the road, a smile appears on the blonde's face as he observes how much prettier you look with the sunlight on you.

He wakes you up when he arrives at the scene, you mumble something he doesn't understand and you hide your face in his neck, he feels butterflies in his stomach with the contact and already misses you when he finally has to say goodbye.

"So I think that's it…" Eddie said, holding your hands. "Take care, pretty girl".

"You too baby." You place a peck on the blonde's lips, then hug him for a few seconds. "You better not forget me huh."

"How could I?" He smiles, letting go of your hands. "I'll see you."

"I hope so." you say, walking into your apartment and soon falling asleep on the couch.

…

The sun was already setting and you were ready to spend the rest of the night watching anything on television. When Adam shows up opening your door like he has an emergency going on.

"Adam what the fuck!" You exclaim, trying to calm down from the fright, he came in with a box in his hands and a magazine in the other. "What the hell is going on?"

"Y/N L/N you naughty girl, if you were dating you should just have told me!" He says sitting next to you, handing you the magazine. "Now it makes sense why you rejected my fake dating idea"

The magazine had a picture of you in a bar, an orange juice in front of you. You had the straw between your teeth smiling at the man in front of you. Your hair was wet and your clothes looked soaked too, as did the man in front of you in the photo, Eddie. He was looking at you with a smile, his eyes were closed if you looked fast, but as you knew that smile very well you knew that when he smiles his eyes shrink. The headline read: Y/N L/N and Eddie Roundtree the romance of the Stars.

You quickly open to the indicated page to read what it said.

Sub Rosa

AUGUST 9, 1977

Eddie Roundtree and Y/N L/N! they are the definition of a star couple

No, your eyes are not deceiving you! Last night after one of the parties given by rock star Billy Dunne, our Hollywood star Y/N L/N was seen with the bassist of Daisy Jones and the six: Eddie Roundtree, leaving the party.

The charming bassist was rumored to have been with L/N throughout the event and he was even seen with our favorite actress in a bar a few hours after the party. Although this is the first time we've seen these lovebirds in public together, you must agree that they make a great couple.

Would that be the end of Y/N's single life?

You finish reading in disbelief, bursting out with a hearty laugh at the last sentence.

"They basically called me a spinster!" You say when you're done laughing, taking a breath to compose yourself. "Look, me and Eddie we-"

You are interrupted by Adam again, who hands you the box he had in his hands when he entered. Curious you take it, seeing a note on top that you decide to read later, inside the box there was a cassette tape, a rose and a napkin with a phone number.

You are still confused and decide to read the note.

Hey pretty girl, I hope you're doing well.

As I promised you, through these things I decided to earnestly ask you to let me have more wonderful nights by your side.

On the tape you'll find my attempt to sing that song you told me you loved, the rose is for pure chivalry and the phone number, well... I think that's clear.

I hope to hear your voice soon…

With love, Eddie Roundtree.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

[leoniestarlee]

Illyrian Assassin (21)

Pairing: Azriel x OC

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning: slow burn, dr!nking, f!ght

--

“Shot! Shot! Shot!” Feyre and Mor chanted as we sat in our usual booth at Rita’s with four shots lined up in front of me. We’d all agreed to go out tonight, except for Amren who decided to stay at the townhouse and thankfully watch Willa and Daisy for me.

“We’re going to the Summer Court tomorrow,” I said to Feyre, before looking at Mor. “Is this a good idea? I shouldn’t turn up there hungover.”

Mor drunklike giggled. “When have you ever said no to a shot?”

“Did I just hear you right?” Cassian asked, stopping beside our booth with Rhysand and Azriel, drinks in hand. “Rory never says no to a shot.”

“That’s not true,” I grumbled over the music playing around us while other Fae danced on the dance floor. “You make me sound like an alcoholic in front of Feyre.”

Rhysand laughed a real laugh, leaning against Feyre’s seat. “She was bound to find out anyway.”

My jaw dropped as I sent me a small glare. “I’m not an alcoholic!”

“You’re right,” Mor mused, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re a pussy that can’t do shots.”

“Me? A pussy?” I gasped, allowing the previous alcohol to take over my mouth. “I’m not a pussy! I can out drink anyone here and you all know it.”

Feyre smirked, pushing one of the shots closer to me from across the table. “Prove it then.”

I held her stare, picking up the shot. “I will.” And I brought the glass to my lips, tilting my head back. The shot didn’t burn like I expected it to as it went down the back of my throat. That just meant I was already drunk.

Mor, Feyre, and Cassian cheered as I slammed the glass down, already picking up the next and taking it down like a champion. I repeated that two more times before wiping the excess liquor from around my mouth and flashing them a grin.

“Keep them coming!” I shouted, taking Cassian’s beer and having a swig.

“As long as she doesn’t get in any fights, then we’ll be safe tonight,” Azriel laughed to Cassian, sliding into the booth beside me.

“Seems I need another beer.” Cassian narrowed his eyes on his beer in my hand as I smiled. “I’ll get more shots while I’m at the bar,” he informed us, walking away with Mor following him.

“Maybe you should slow down,” Az suggested, his shoulder brushing against mine and the small touch sent heat through my body.

I looked up at him, taking another sip of the beer. “I’ve already started,” I said, cringing at the slight slur in my words. “I shouldn’t slow down now when I have the whole night left.”

“Exactly!” Feyre exclaimed, pointing at me while she leaned into Rhys who didn’t hide the fact he was admiring her.

I smiled more, high fiving her. I turned back to Az, only this time his eyes were focused down at my lips, an emotion I couldn’t read in his eyes. But the look was enough to make me blush as butterflies hatched in my body, taking flight in my stomach.

Since we were young, there had been an unspoken…relationship between us. Our friendship seemed to always take that nervous step toward something else. Something that isn’t just friends. But so much more. We never spoke about it—never actually acknowledged it. Yet we both knew that friends don’t act like we do with each other.

Sure, sometimes I would hold Cassian’s hand or hug Rhysand on the couch. But me and Azriel—we weren’t platonic friends like that. I never shared long glances across the room with Cass or Rhys. They never kissed me on the top of the head like Azriel. I wouldn’t seek either of the males for comfort like I do with Az. And I certainty didn’t sneak into their beds for cuddles like I did with Azriel when we were younger.

“I got more shots!” Mor announced, snapping my attention away from Az and to her as she placed down more shot glasses with Cass beside her with a new beer. “Lets hurry this up so I can dance!”

I laughed, putting my beer down and grabbing a shot with everyone, but Azriel.

“Come on, Az,” Cassian drawled, pushing a shot toward him. “If we’re all doing one, then so are you.”

Azriel shook his head with a small eye roll. “I’ve got to be up early tomorrow,” he said, not moving his scarred hand toward the glass.

I lifted mine up to him, making him face me with a raised brow. “If I can get drunk the night before going to the Summer Court, then I’m sure you can get drunk with me tonight.”

Rhys and Cassian continued to try and convince him, but he paid them no mind as he focused on me, his eyes darting down to my lips, again, for only a split second before looking back into my eyes. I gave him an encouraging smile, trying not to show him how flustered that small glance made me.

“Only one shot,” he said, giving in while I cheered with Rhys and Cassian as Mor and Feyre giggled.

I waited until he tilted his head back—mercifully showing off that sharp jawline—and the liquor went down his throat before I took mine with a smile.

“Now we dance!” Mor said, reaching across Az and grabbing my hand.

“Mor!” I shrieked with a laugh as she tried pulling me out of the booth.

Azriel wrapped his arm around the back of my waist, his hand landing on the side of my thigh as Mor nearly dragged me onto his lap. My hand was still in Mor’s, who wasn’t giving up, still pulling me as Cassian howled in laughter at no doubt my red face. I hadn’t even realized my other hand landed on Azriel’s thigh, softly squeezing it to brace myself until his leg tensed.

“I’m so sorry,” I quickly said, snatching my hand away as I looked up at him with heated cheeks. “That—I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay, angel,” he lowly said, placing his other hand on my waist and looking over at Mor. “Let go of her hand so I can move her.” Mor obeyed, dropping my hand and before I could even stop him, he lifted me up like I weighed nothing and moved me to the other side of him.

I stood up straight as he started to move his hands away from my waist, but I couldn’t help myself as I grabbed his hand, facing him. His scars were rough against my palm, and I prayed I wouldn’t sound nervous as I said, “Come dance with us.”

His brows rose, a smirk tugging at the corner of those sensuous lips. Mor had already given up on waiting for me, dragging Feyre to the dance floor who then dragged Cassian and Rhysand behind her.

“I’m not sure you’d want me dancing with you lot,” he said, allowing me to continue holding his hand.

I arched a brow. “And why not?”

This time he did smirk as he pulled my hand, making me move my feet closer to him until it was only the side of the booth keeping us apart. “Because I might get in a fight if some other male dances with you.”

I had to stop my jaw from dropping and releasing a small, surprised gasp as my eyes widened at him and he chuckled, letting go of my hand to now rest his own on my waist, again.

I quickly recovered, mirroring his smirk. And maybe it was the alcohol that made me bold, but I couldn’t give two shits as I said, “You’re the only male I want dancing with me.”

Was he surprised by my bold words? I couldn’t tell with that smirk still on his lips as he looked me up and down. I pulled my lip between my teeth as I nervously waited, wishing whatever boldness I had a few second ago didn’t disappear from me so fast.

“That means you’re mine tonight.” He stood up, his shadows snaking up my arms like a cold breeze as I didn’t bother holding back my smile.

You’re mine tonight. Why the hell did those three words make me so damn happy?

Feeling confident and excited, I headed toward the dance floor with his hand resting on my lower back while he stuck close to me, the both of us pushing through the swaying bodies as we looked for our friends.

“Rory!” Feyre called, waving her hand out toward me as I spotted them in the middle of the swaying bodies. “I thought you would never join us.”

“And you convinced the shadowsinger,” Cassian mused, glancing between me and Az with a knowing grin.

I playfully rolled my eyes, taking Mor’s hand as she started to dance with Feyre in front of me. Azriel still stayed close, one hand on my back as I swayed to the rhythm, allowing my hair to freely bounce off my back.

A few more shots later, I was still on the dance floor with everyone else, but this time both of Azriel’s hands were on my lower stomach as I pressed my back into his chest. Rhys had winked at us once and Cassian had proudly patted Az on the shoulder but with a warning in his eyes. Illyrians.

I was enjoying my time, being able to feel free and without any worries in my mind as I danced with Az—and the others every now and then. But since the moment Azriel placed his hands on me and pulled my back into his chest, we hadn’t let go of each other. As if we couldn’t let go of each other.

It wasn’t until someone harshly bumped into Azriel’s shoulder, making him drop his hand from my waist did we finally move away from each other. I turned around in confusion, only to be met with more confusion at the icy rage in Azriel’s eyes as a High Fae male squared up to him beside us.

“What the fuck was that for?” the male slurred, the stench of alcohol on his breath as he glared at Azriel.

Azriel’s shadows clung to my arms like a shield, letting me know that he knew I was watching. But he didn’t say anything, didn’t even move his eyes away from the drunken male as he let go of me completely and turned his whole body toward him.

“Is everything alright here?” Cassian asked, stepping close to my back. Even without looking at him, I could feel his body tense and on alert.

The male directed his glare to Cassian, looking at his wings with disgust. “Mind your business, lesser faerie,” he spat, rising his glass up and the golden liquor in it splashed over the rim.

“What the fuck did he just say?” I questioned, my voice sounding unsettlingly calm as I took a step closer to Az.

The drunken idiot looked to me, his tongue licking along his bottom lip as his eyes traced my figure, sending a disgusted feeling through my body. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here with them?”

“That, ‘lesser faerie’, as you like to call him, is my brother,” I stated, disgust and anger lacing with each word. His eyes bounced between us, and I placed myself in front of Az and Cass. “And this faerie,”—I pointed to Azriel without looking at him—“has been mine for the last five hundred years.”

Surprise flashed in his eyes, only to be replaced with disgust and hatred. “So you’re all lesser faeries then. You should be licking my boots,” he hissed, shoving his hand toward me. The liquor in it splashed onto my dress, making me huff in anger as I took a step back. 

“Not only have you disrespected us in front of her,” Cassian started, his voice dangerously low, “but now you’ve split your drink on her dress.”

Azriel deeply chuckled behind me. “I would suggest leaving before my angel does something you won’t like.”

The male laughed, looking at me like I’m nothing more than a weak female. “What’s a little thing like her going to do—”

My anger snapped, along with something in his jaw as I threw my arm out and my first connected with his face. Cassian laughed behind me, the many fae around us gasping as the male landed on the ground with a small cry. I stood straight, clenching and unclenching my hand, embracing the burning pain in my knuckles.

“Call us lesser faeries again,” I challenged, bending down until my face was inches away from his while he held his jaw, eyes wide, staring into mine. “I fucking dare you.”

He aggressively shook his head, trying to open his mouth only to quickly close it with a groan.

Satisfaction bubbled through my body as I sweetly smiled, lightly tapping the other side of his face. “Smart choice,” I crooned.

“What the hell happened here?” Rhysand asked from behind me.

I looked up at him with a smile. “This dickhead called us lesser fae,” I simply said, turning my body away from the male.

Rhys tried not to smile, but he failed and softly laughed, looking at the cowering male on the ground behind me. “You truly messed up by saying that to her.” Then the amusement wiped off his face while I stepped up to Azriel’s side. “If you ever call anyone lesser fae again, then I’ll wipe your mind and drop you in a different court.”

“Come on,” Az murmured, grabbing my unharmed hand and starting to pull me away.

Cassian snorted behind us. “That was the perfect example of ‘fuck around and find out’.”

I looked over my shoulder at him with a small grin. “I’m the definition of ‘fuck around and find out’.”

“There’s no doubt about that,” Az chuckled, before leaning down to whisper in my ear, “and it’s about time you realized I’ve been yours for five hundred years.”

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

@waytoomanyteenagefeels

[mrsnancywheeler]

can’t help but wonder what daisy has to say about billy and his muse… hmm. i feel like she’d have some words about muse’s age, how young she is, and since she’s always starting fights with billy to begin with i can’t imagine it would do poor muse any good. i think daisy would feel some sort of kinship with her because of their shared experiences with absent parents and getting into bad situations with people older than them, i just don’t believe she would handle it responsibly 💀 wanting to help muse develop her own sound and come into herself musically outside of billy dunne and the rest of the band turns into holing up at daisy’s place for days on end and getting ridiculously high together. and i doubt billy would be too happy with his girl showing up completely strung out after vanishing off the face of the earth for a week either. hanging out with daisy feels good but frequently makes things worse instead of better. they’re so interesting i love thinking about them

I'm literally sat for this, I've been thinking about this since it was sent it and need to doscuss with y'all

okay so timeline wise I imagine muse met billy when they were still just the six but like after they'd gained some fame. obviously in this universe there's no camilla, I'd never hurt my girl more, and so billy is just a ticking time bomb of fame and ego and all of his dreams. and he's good but not as good as he thinks he is so when teddy has the idea to give an edge to the six by a collaboration with daisy jones he's still obviously very pissed but now muse is there too, there relationship is probably like 6 months old or so.

and daisy is changing lyrics, she brings so much energy into the studio, she's fun, and muse is young and I think instantly drawn to the magnetic field of daisy jones. kind of in awe of daisy which billy can't fathom because he's too busy being miffed about the whole ordeal. and in this version look at us now is about muse and billy, and daisy see's right through the original lyrics and her changes make muse feel more seen. so she listens to billy bitch and moan but secretly agrees.

and muse definitely pushes for daisy to be in the band, "billy's an ass, but everyone thinks you should join. he'll get over it eventually and realize."

and daisy is just open and honest about her thoughts right off the bat, "why do you stay with him? if he's an ass, then why?"

and muse is taken aback but also honest back because it feels right, "I don't want anyone else. not the way I want him."

daisy does get to join the band and with that she learns a lot more about muse and billy, more to dislike about the arrangement. muse is so young and attached, the only other person she turns to is eddie who obviously also wants to be with her, and daisy feels like any spark that muse has is quelled to play cheerleader for billy. and she respects that muse doesn't want to be a star but she tells her to write, or to talk and daisy will cultivate the ideas.

daisy definitely gets involved in a couple of fights that muse and billy have. "plenty of groupies to go around, don't need one wasting my goddamn time"

"don't fucking talk to her like that!"

"daisy-" you're trying to deescalate because you knows daisy and billy just make the fight worse.

"she's a person, a child, not something you get to call whatever you want when you're pissed off." daisy's turning to you, "c'mon let's go get some air, away from this asshole."

"you can't just walk out of rehearsal, daisy!" billy's calling after but you let daisy guide you.

"watch me!" and you and daisy are sitting outside, she's handing you some pill that you barely question before taking.

"you know, it's okay, it's just the way it is. no reason to fight more because of it."

"no, it's not okay. you know just because he's older and gives you what you crave doesn't mean you need him, right?"

you pause, "I know." you sigh, "daisy, I'm not a baby. I can take care of myself, I know what's going on."

"sure you do, chickadee." and suddenly it's like something lights within her and she's searching her pockets for a paper of napkin, "do you have something to write with?" and she ends up scribbling something you're not allowed to see on a napkin with your lipstick. eventually she makes it a song about you. and then your though and frustrations eventually become many many more songs.

and once during one of the breaks where they've got some time rather than muse spending time with billy she goes to hang out with daisy, which ends up being the whole of the break. she's with daisy, screaming out every frustration into metaphors daisy is scribbling out as they dance around to records taking every pill daisy can get hands on, lines off every surface, so many bottles completely empty. and whenever you just want to call billy or sometimes eddie, daisy totally encourages against it because, "you don't need them!" and when it's finally time to go back to the studio daisy has started to realize she handles highs terribly but better than you, who's not used to taking nearly as much as daisy does.

once they're stepping out of that taxi, billy's first words quickly form from a, "where the hell were you?" to a , "what is she on?" hands softly gripping your face, looking into her eyes, knowing you're gonna feels like crap later. and he's gonna end up nursing you out of a bender, daisy's kind of scared that you were so out of it by the end. so it creates another conflict when she's saying billy is horrible to you and billy brings up how she usually gets you too high to function.

let me know y'all's thoughts bc I'm definitely already cooking up more

[jobean12-blog]

A Farmer’s Delight

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Farmer AU)

Word Count: 4,743

Summary: An ordinary Sunday morning runs turns into something much more extraordinary when you meet the Farmer down the road.  

Author’s Note: So a friend shared this tik tok with me a while back and it gave me an idea for farmer Bucky. Watch the tik tok here I definitely went a little silly and fun with this and of course NEVER go home with any man you just met in the woods or anywhere (unless he’s Bucky Barnes haha) but for real, stay safe! Thank you everyone so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my sweet @firefly-graphics Thank you bunches Daisy!🥰

Warnings: Fun flirting, silliness, fluff, cute animals, flirting, tension, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t do that either), smut, implied oral (18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!)

Every pound of your foot against the dirt road is like a harsh squeeze to your overly full bladder. You silently curse yourself for not using the bathroom before you left for the run and then give your almost empty water bottle a dirty look.

When you’re sure one more step will have you peeing your pants you make an abrupt stop and search your surroundings…there has to be somewhere you can pee.

You notice a small clearing behind some short bushes. If you squat low enough you should be hidden from at least everyone coming from behind you on the path. Anyone running the other way, well, they might get a nice glimpse of your ass.

You gingerly walk over, worrying any jolting movement will be disastrous, and give the area one more check. It looks clear and the only sounds you hear are the rustling leaves in the light breeze.

You pull down your shorts and panties, squatting low and positioning yourself so you won’t get pee all over you.

When the flow starts you sigh in relief, the pressure in your lower abdomen subsiding with every passing second…and the seconds seem to tick on and on until you’re just about done.

And then you hear it.

The loud rush and stamping of what sounds like hundreds of feet, all coming toward you from, of course, the way that you’re exposed.

“Oh shit!” you mutter, struggling to push out the last drips and shake dry.

You frantically try to dry by waving your ass around as the noise gets louder and just as you peak over the bushes you see a stampede of goats galloping toward you. You’re so shocked that you nearly lose your footing and fall over.

You manage to pull up your panties and you’re just about to get your shorts over your ass when a loud and booming voice shouts from behind the goats.

And then you see him.

His dark hair is long enough to hang loose at his broad shoulders and the closer he gets you can see his muscled chest move and flex as he chases after the goats. The sight temporarily stuns you and it isn’t until he spots you still crouched behind the bushes that you let out a shriek and make a run for it, shorts still half on.

“Wait!” You hear his deep voice. “I’m not going to…”

Whatever he was going to say is muffled by the hard ground slamming into your body as you fall, the blood whooshing in your ears and your heart beating rapidly.

You scramble to your feet again, the sound of cracking branches and crunching leaves close behind you.

“Come on,” you urge yourself with a violent rush.

You hear him again. “Are you hurt?”

You realize he’s too close and you’ll never get away so you make a sudden turn on your heal and rush the man with all your strength. You collide with his hard body, hoping to throw him off so you can get away but instead he cushions you against him and you both fall down in a heap of tangled limbs.

“Fuck,” you hear him grunt. “Are you ok doll?”

His gentle touch is surprisingly soothing and you let out a shaky breath.

“I’m…I’m ok,” you say quietly, pressing your hand to his chest to sit up.

Your fingers meet warm skin, the collection of hair along his chest soft under your touch even as his hard muscles strain. You realize he’s wearing denim overalls and no shirt. The image makes you swallow hard against the dryness in your mouth, your eyes lingering on the expanse of his exposed skin.

“James Barnes,” he says with a lopsided smirk, holding out his hand. “But you can call me Bucky.”

“Are these your goats?” you ask, looking past him to see that you’re now surrounded by what seems like hundreds of goats. “Are you a farmer?”

“Uh…well yeah. They got out of their pen this morning and I found them running along the path,” Bucky explains before his eyes drop to your exposed panties.

You suck in a breath and scramble back, yanking your shorts up the rest of the way.

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “I cannot believe you saw me peeing!”

“Well, to be fair, I didn’t really, mostly just saw you running away with your pants down,” he chuckles. “Must have really had to go though. Peeing in the woods is dangerous. Poison ivy…bugs…rogue goats.”

You stare at him, finally taking a moment to look at his face.

A definite mistake.

His perfectly shaped eyes are lined with dark and long lashes and the ocean blue color sparkles in the sunlight. His chiseled jaw is lined with a dark beard, the little patches of gray sprinkled throughout adding to his rugged handsomeness. His lips are pink and plush and when he smiles again you feel a tingling down your spine.

His humor is lost on you, your current embarrassment and twinge of fear overpowering your senses.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter, shaking yourself from your reverie. “How do you I know you aren’t going to kidnap me and kill me?”

“I’m not,” he states, clearly amused.

“And I’m just supposed to believe that! You saw my ass!”

“What’s that got to do with it doll?” he asks, holding out his hand to help you up after he stands. “It is quite nice though.”

You scoff and place your hand in his, squeaking when he lifts you to your feet with ease, the feel of his calloused fingertips sending a tremble through you.

“How many sheep do you have?” you ask as you survey the fluffy observers and ignore the heat of awareness at his touch.

“Oh, probably over two hundred. But this is only half of them. I like them to have a lot of open land so I keep them in two separate very large grazing areas.”

One of the sheep closest to you let’s out a loud and seemingly annoyed ‘baaaaaaaaaa.’

Bucky laughs and pats it’s head softly.

“Almost time to eat,” he says.

You start to walk back toward the path but when you put pressure on your left ankle you wince and cry out in pain.

Bucky immediately slides his arm around your waist and leans you against him.

“Hey now, easy there doll. Looks like you have a nasty sprain and your knee is all scratched up.”

The concern in his voice softens your features and you let yourself sag into his hold.

“I really am sorry,” he says quietly, his tone full of sincerity.

“It’s ok,” you sigh. “It’s not your fault. You were right. I shouldn’t be peeing in the woods by myself. I just had to go so bad.”

“I get it,” he answers, helping you hop back to the path. “How far are you from home?”

“A six-mile run and then a car drive!” you huff. “This is my first time running over here. I recently moved nearby and I usually just go around the neighborhood but needed a change of scenery.”

He nods in understanding.

“Well, you can’t run anywhere with your ankle,” he tsks. “But thankfully my house is just half a mile up the path there.”

He motions around the curve with a smile.

“Are you just going to take me there so you can tie me up in your basement.”

“Mm tempting,” he muses, his eyes bright with playful mischief. “But how about we go get you cleaned up and put some ice on that swelling.”

“Ok, ok,” you relent, giggling when he starts down the path and all of the sheep start to follow him.

“Look at them,” you say in wonder.

He stops to turn and glance behind him, the sheep halting the moment he does.

“Start walking again,” you say excitedly.

He takes a few more steps and the sheep start trotting again.

“Now stop,” you snort.

He stops and so do the sheep.

“Amazing,” you laugh. “They are so cute.”

“Thanks…” he trails off, looking at you expectantly.

“Oh right,” you mumble and introduce yourself.

“That’s a pretty name,” he says, repeating it. “I was about to call you sunshine…since ya know…”

“WHAT?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Your panties are that sunshiny yellow color…” he states, waggling his eyebrows.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute,” you mutter as you continue hobble along.

It’s surprising and slightly disconcerting how comfortable you feel in his arms but if the goats trust him…

The sound of the goats hurrying behind keeps you smiling despite the discomfort in your knee and ankle. When you reach a small path that turns off the main road you look ahead and see a beautiful farmhouse, complete with a large porch and wooden fence.

“Do you live here all alone?” you ask.

“Just me and the animals,” he replies. “A lot of them.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when a large white and fluffy dog comes bounding off the porch, barking loudly and tail wagging wildly.

“Winter!” Bucky commands and the dog slows as he approaches and sits.

“Good boy. Now be careful,” he instructs, calling the dog forward.

Winter inches closer, his butt wiggling with barely contained excitement, and gently nudges your hand.

“Oh, he’s SO CUTE!” you gush, petting him.  

Winter follows you and Bucky as you make your way past the fence and up the steps of the porch.

“Just wait here for me. Winter will stay with you,” Bucky says. “I’m going to get the goats back in their pen.”

“Ok,” you exhale, sitting gingerly on the porch swing.

Winter plops down and rests his head on your thigh.

“Such a good boy,” you coo, scratching behind his ears. “Your dad has to be a good guy…right?”

Winter’s brown eyes study you, soft and sweet.

Bucky returns and before you can stand he lifts you into his arms and carries you through the door to his house.

“Don’t people usually get married and then do that?” you giggle as he sets you down on the couch.

“Already planning our wedding?” he teases.

He walks into the kitchen, somehow managing to move his large body gracefully around, every so often glancing your way with a smile.

“Tea?” he asks. “Coffee?”

“Just water for now please,” you answer.

He comes back with a tray of snacks and a cold glass of water, setting it down on the coffee table before sitting on it and lifting your leg to rest on his knee.

“Sorry if this stings,” he whispers, patting your cut with disinfectant.

You suck your teeth but manage a smile when he gives you an apologetic look. Despite his obvious strength, his touch is delicate and he takes special care to clean your cut, apply antiseptic and cover it with a band aid.

“You’re all set,” he says, stroking his thumb over your thigh.

Your eyes fly to his and his gaze wanders over your face in an interested and appreciative way.  

“I have some ice for your ankle,” he says, clearing his throat. “Sit back.”

You push yourself back against the pillows and move your leg to rest along the couch. He grabs another pillow and sets a towel down with the ice pack then lays your foot atop it.

“Thank you,” you murmur, watching him intently.

“Of course,” he says, as if it isn’t bizarre to have a complete stranger in his house, strewn across his couch.

His gives you another boyish smirk and you have to will yourself to disregard the sudden heat in your lower belly.

“How long have you lived here?”

He stands and walks back to the kitchen, calling Winter to follow.

“I grew up in the city. Loved it but as I got older I realized I wanted something quieter so I sold my apartment, moved out here, bought this farm and well…here I am, almost ten years later,” he explains.

“It’s beautiful.”

As you say the words you look around the space, noting the calm colors and the cozy feel of the thoughtfully placed furniture.

“What about you?” he asks, placing Winter’s food bowl down.

“My story is pretty similar actually, minus the farm…and goats,” you giggle. “Just needed a change of scenery. I like it here.”

You share a sympathetic look before he blurts out, “what can I make you to eat?”

“You’re gonna feed me too?” you ask with raised brows.

“Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly if I didn’t, now would it?” he counters. “Besides, I’m always hungry.”

The hint of flirtatiousness in his voice leads to your next question.

“Did you just say something dirty to me?”

He throws his head back with laughter, pressing a hand to his chest before he settles with a shrug.

“Just stating the obvious. I love to eat.”

You let your eyes sweep over him approvingly. “I bet you do.”

“Now who’s flirting?” he fires back.

His study of you turns intense and you almost squirm on the couch.

“What were we talking about?” he asks, clearly distracted.

“Ummmmm…food!” you say, far too loudly.

“Right. Lunch! What can I get ya doll face?”

“Anything that’s easy is good,” you tell him.

He smiles and settles into the kitchen, pulling things from the cabinets and fridge. You let your eyes close for a few moments, relishing in the sound of the birds outside and the rustle of leaves in the wind.

Your eyes shoot open when something hits your lap and you let out a loud gasp, giggling when you see a white fluffy cat now seated on you.

“Hey there,” you say softly, scratching under her chin.

“I see you’ve met Alpine,” Bucky says, looking over. “She’s never getting up by the way.”

Alpine, seemingly aware of Bucky’s warning, kneads at your shirt before circling once and laying down in a round ball of fur.

“She’s beautiful. Like the cat version of Winter!”

“It is kind of funny how they look the same except Winter has the brown eyes and Alpine the blue. Both rescues,” he adds.

“Lucky them,” you say as the cat purrs contentedly in your lap.

“So, you don’t think I’m a serial killer anymore?” Bucky asks with a grin.

“Can’t be,” you answer with a yawn. “You wouldn’t have such sweet animals.”

He chuckles before carrying some plates past the couch and out the French doors at the far end of the large room. You try to sit up and see where he’s going but he’s lost from view.

When he returns your curiosity is written on your face and he explains, “back porch has a picnic table. It’s nice out so I figured we could sit there.”

He reaches for your hand and then wraps his arm around your waist to help you up. Alpine meows in annoyance but follows you out, Winter right behind.

The wooden picnic table is beautifully made and set with two plates and enough food fit for six.

“You weren’t kidding,” you mutter, taking in the spread.

“Nah doll. I’m a growing boy, need to eat,” he says, patting his stomach.

You scoff with a smile. “Says your six pack.”

“How do you know if I have a six pack?” he says, eyeing you playfully.

“Because of course you would. Look at the rest of you.”

“You’re welcome to look,” he croons, unbuckling one strap of his overalls.

He lets it fall just far enough that you get a peek at half his toned abs and the distinct V shape at his hip.

“That’s unfair,” you breathe out. “Might be eight.”

“Farming is hard work doll,” he states as he helps you sit and moves around to the other side of the table.

“Aren’t you going to buckle that back up?” you ask as your legs squeeze together under the table.

“Nah,” he answers as he serves you some food.

“Tease,” you mutter and look down at your plate. “Wow this looks good.”

He winks when you catch his eye again and the butterflies in your belly flutter to life.

“Fresh eggs from my chickens and the vegetables are from my garden.”

“You really are busy,” you mumble through a delicious mouth full. “And when did you learn to cook?”

You sit for a long time, talking and laughing and nibbling at the food, unaware as the day moves on and the sun starts it’s descent in the sky.

With a yawn and a stretch, you ask for the time, your eyes widening when he says it’s almost four pm.

“Shit,” you groan. “I have to get back to my car.”

“You can’t walk back,” Bucky states with a tone that leaves no room for argument.

“Then what am I going to do?” you ask, popping your shoulder with sass.

He laughs, giving you a challenging look.

“You’ll stay here until tomorrow. Then I’ll take you back to your car on the tractor.”

“Why can’t you do that now?”

“You can’t drive on that ankle; you need to rest more.”

“Are you a doctor now too?”

“Doll,” he warns, standing to gather the plates. “You’re staying. It’s the safest.”

“Staying in some man’s house that I just met is safe!” you argue even though it’s clear by your expression that you’re just busting his balls.

“We’ve already spent half the day together and don’t worry I don’t bite,” he simpers.

He grabs a few things and rounds the table, leaning down close to your ear, his warm breath caressing your skin when he whispers, “unless you want me to.”

You shiver at contact, digging your teeth into your bottom lip to keep your moan quiet.

“Smooth Bucky,” you joke, ogling his ass as he walks back into the house.

“We’ll see…” you hear him call back.

Once the table is cleaned off he comes back and slides his arms under you, lifting you and cradling you against his chest.

“I can walk you know.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” he responds.

“You are warm,” you whisper, toying with the one buckle of his overalls.

“Winter and Alpine think so too,” he says. “They are always sleepin’ on me.”

“Can’t blame them…”

Your words are sleepy and muddled as your eyes start to droop closed. “I’m so sleepy.”

“It’s been a long day,” Bucky says. “A nap will do you good.”

“Mm a nap,” you murmur and snuggle into his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

When you wake two hours later the sun is low in the sky, painting it in hues of pink and orange. You’re curled up on the couch, Alpine settled on your hip and Winter laying on the floor just under you.

“Hey guys,” you say, greeting them both with alternating pets. “Where’s your dad?”

“Right here,” Bucky says and you sit up to find him.

He’s walking down the hallway in nothing but his towel, eyes dancing with mirth and flirt as he watches your lips part and hears your sharp intake of breath.

“Why are you naked?” you ask him, forcing your eyes to stay on his face.

“I’m not,” he smirks. “How was your nap?”

“Nap…?” you question, letting your eyes fall to his bare chest.

“I new it was eight,” you mutter, falling back to the couch with a huff.

You can hear him chuckle before his head appears over the back of the couch.

“Do you want a shower?” he asks. “Or something to eat?”

“I can’t tell if you’re genuinely asking me these questions or you’re just using some sort of code for dirty talk.”

“Take it however you want doll face.”

He walks away back down the hall and you look at Alpine, mimicking Bucky’s words with mock annoyance.

Opting for a shower you turn the water on hot and stand under it for a long time, bearing most of your weight on your good leg. You will yourself to think of anything other than Bucky but the image of him shirtless and wet is burned onto your brain.

“Fuck,” you grumble, resting your head along the tiles.

After washing and rinsing you leave the shower and grab a towel, wrapping yourself in the fluffy warmth.

“Even his towels are amazing,” you say to yourself with a roll of your eyes.

You look around the bathroom, realizing the only clothes you have are dirty running shorts, a tank and a sports bra, not to mention your ‘sunshiny’ yellow panties.

With a groan you quietly open the door to the bathroom and call to Bucky. He jogs down the hallway, now dressed in a tee shirt and fits him divinely and sweatpants that hang low on his hips.

“You ok doll?” he asks, his concern clear.

“I have no clean clothes,” you say.

His dons his signature lopsided grin and holds up one long, thick finger. Within seconds he reappears with a folded shirt and shorts.

“Hope this ok.”

You take the clothes with a thanks and close the door. When you’re dry you throw the shirt over your head, swimming in the fabric and his scent. Your eyelashes kiss your cheeks with your deep inhale and you run your hands down your body.

“This is bad,” you say to yourself as you slip on the shorts.

You find Bucky in the living room, laying across the couch with Alpine on his chest.

His gaze runs down the length of your body and he keeps staring, the intensity of it growing.

“What?” you whisper.

“I just met you…less than twenty-four hours ago.”

He gently lifts Alpine off his chest and sits up. “I shouldn’t feel like this.”  

“It’s crazy, I know,” you say, feeling grateful you aren’t the only one feeling the deep connection.

“I like you in my clothes,” he whispers as he stands from the couch. “Maybe a little too much.”

You look down at his shirt and fiddle with the hem, suddenly feeling a slight twinge of nerves.

“How’s your ankle?” he asks, stepping closer and tucking his fingers under your chin to lift your focus back to him.

“Ok, just a little sore,” you answer.

“Probably shouldn’t put too much pressure on it,” he says, close enough now that his chest brushes yours with every breath.

“Probably not,” you say as your fingers slide down his muscled arms.  

His hands fall to your waist, his thumbs slipping under your shirt and brushing against your skin. You lean into him, closing any space left between you.

You can feel his heart thumping wildly beneath your fingertips and the blue of his eyes blazes.

“Take me to bed,” you whisper, feeling as if you’ll burst out of your skin if he doesn’t touch you.

His arms slip under your ass and he lifts you up, powering down the hall into his bedroom. The door slams behind him and he gently eases you to your feet. You lock eyes and you swear you’re falling.

And then you literally are as he throws you onto his bed, his expression quickly turning to one of concern when he remembers you sore ankle.

“Doll?” he worries, leaning over you. “I got carried away. Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all,” you assure him, brushing the hair from his face. “Don’t worry I won’t break.”

He takes the hint and presses his lips to yours, sliding his arm under you and pulling you closer. The kiss is on fire and it takes everything in you to finally pull away for air.

“Clothes off,” you murmur, pushing on his chest.

He sits up and straddles you, taking off his shirt. You reach up to touch him and in the same motion he has the shirt over your head, his eyes glazing over as he stares.

“Do you even realize how sexy you are?” he asks with a groan, cupping your breasts and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Your back arches and you lean into his touch, rolling your hips against him. He releases your breasts only so he can push the sweatpants down his thick thighs before tugging on your shorts.

He kisses you again, his beard scratching along your skin and sending goosebumps racing across it. Your hands dive into his hair, tightening when his fingertips glide down the soft curve of your waist and between your legs.

“Fuck doll, you’re soaked,” he moans with a teasing touch.

He slowly pushes a finger inside you, his eyes falling shut at the feel of you warm and wet around him. A second finger joins the first and he pumps them in and out, your hips meeting every thrust of his hand.

Your fingernails curl into his broad shoulders, his name falling from your lips like a prayer and when his thumb circles your clit your stomach tightens until the tension breaks like a wave, your walls squeezing around his fingers.

Without giving you time to catch your breath he pulls his fingers free and takes your injured leg to rest it over his shoulder, the action spreading you open for him. He pushes inside you, his teeth gritted at how tight and swollen you are.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “you feel incredible.”

His movements start off gentle, the slow glide of his cock driving you insane. You dig your fingers into the muscles of his back, urging him to move faster and he does. He angles your hips and pushes deeper, every thrust of his hips threatening to send you over the edge again.

He slams into you hard enough to bang the headboard against the wall, the sound barely registering over your pleas for more. Your walls begin to tighten and he swells inside of you before you cry out his name with your release.

He follows only moments later, his hips jerking against you and his face falling to your neck.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, pressing a soft kiss to your skin.

You lay there, loving the weight of him as your body practically melts into the mattress. He gently sits up on his arm, his fingertips ghosting across your warm skin and down to your ankle.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asks.

“I’m more than ok,” you answer. “Fucking fabulous.”

He laughs at that and gives you one more kiss before disappearing into the bathroom. He returns with a soft cloth, walking purposefully toward the bed and letting his eyes linger on your sweaty skin. His cock bounces as he starts to grow hard again and you let out a moan.

“I want you again,” he says like it’s a no brainer and then falls next to you on the bed, his touch delicate as he presses the cloth between your legs.

“But first I’m going to taste you doll.”

Your body slides along the soft sheets, the morning sun warm on your bare skin and the feel of something warm and furry pressing against your legs. With a languid stretch you open your eyes and look to the edge of the bed to see Winter sleeping peacefully, his large body leaning into your bottom half and Alpine curled up on top of your legs.

Bucky’s side of the bed is empty but there’s a small note on the pillow that reads, “I’ll be outside in the yard when you wake up,” and it has a small heart drawn below.

You take your time getting up, rousing the animals who protest with even slower movements and loud yawns. Grabbing Bucky’s shirt, you throw it over your body and go to the bathroom to freshen up.

When you walk into the kitchen and look through the window over the sink you see him out in the pen with the goats. Calling for Winter you walk outside, admiring the view of Bucky in nothing but a pair of jeans and his boots.

Winter barks and Bucky turns around. He has a small white goat tucked under his arm and as he saunters toward you it’s hard to restrain your giggles.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he croons, dipping his head to kiss the corner of your mouth. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a baby,” you answer, reaching out to pet the goat.

“And your ankle?” he asks, looking down.

“Not too bad this morning. Not as sore and definitely less swollen.”

“Good doll face” he smiles. “Now let’s get some breakfast in ya before I take ya back to bed.”

@book-dragon-13 @dreamlessinparis​ @hiddles-and-skittles​ @hiddles-rose​ @jhangelface0523​ @loki-laufeyson-1054​ @goldylions​ @justile @seitmai​ @randomfandompenguin​ @lokisasgardianvampirequeen​ @getwellsoontana​ @whitewolfey​ @whippoorwillbarnes​ @weekendgothgirl​ @breakablebarnes​ @lookiamtrying​

[teenidlegirl]

꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 .ᐟ

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 ┆ 𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐬

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!civilian!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃  𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚  ˖ ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ  since the aftermath between you and miguel, you went your separate ways. occupied with work and other shenanigans but the heartbreak still lingers.

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃  𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕  ˖ ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ  angst, post-heartbreak, hurt/no comfort, swearing, mentions of past character death, a filler tbh

꒰ previous chapter ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ next chapter ꒱

it’s been three days since you last saw miguel. three days since he basically told you to fuck off, get the hell out of his life. three nights of endless teary nights he caused. those salty tears were all because of that fucking asshole who broke your heart.

“i should never have met you.”

that phrase plagued your mind; an endless nightmare. you can’t believe he said that. it was a stab to the heart. a heart that would always beat fast for him. you truly believed he cared about you, liked you at the very least. but now he admits he regrets meeting you? that broke your heart because you actually liked for him. cared too much for him. shit you were developing feelings for that bastard but now that was thrown out the window.

a man who you weren’t even in a relationship with broke your heart. when you broke up with your ex, you didn’t cry as much over him like miguel.

that proves how much you care for miguel.

well, cared for because now you’re not friends anymore. nah that’s a fucking lie. deep down, you still care for him no matter what. that’s what hurts the most, you still care for that asshole.

those daily visits to your apartment, finding him on your balcony and inviting him in, stopped. and goddamnit you miss it so much. how brightly you would smile when he’d land on your balcony. watching daisy get excited with her cute poofy tail wagging when she sees him. those little chitchats you two would engage in while sipping on coffee or munching on whatever pastry you recently bought. god just thinking about those memories makes want to you bawl your eyes out (you already have been).

why does it hurt so bad when it shouldn’t have?

why are you still moping about some guy who pushed you away?

except… he wasn’t just any guy.

he was someone you deeply cared about. someone you trusted wholeheartedly. someone who visited you and hung out with you over some coffee or snack. someone who gifted you your favorite flower. someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer and practically begged you to let him repay you. someone who opened up his past to you because he trusted you. someone who pulled an all-nighter just to make sure you slept okay after experiencing a near death experience. someone who cared about you.

fuck — it hurts so much.

honestly, you want to go find miguel and tell him ‘to go fuck himself’ for making you feel like this. but, that would only make things worse. only add more salt to the already fucked up wound.

other than moping around and crying, you drowned yourself into work. can you even say drowned since you actually drowned, at least almost? hell yeah because dark humor is the best humor. you went back to work like nothing happened. luckily everything happened over the weekend so you didn’t miss days. although, your coworkers and even your boss noticed a change in your demeanor. quiet, pessimistic, gloomy. no iconic sassy or sarcastic remarks. you’re one of the funniest people in the company, everyone would always laugh at your jokes or remarks. laughter would fill the room. but now it was just silence. people were concerned, including your boss. one day he called you in and asked what’s going on. you simply said it was a family issue. he sensed it was something more but he didn’t push the subject further. he suggested giving you some time off but you kindly declined and insisted on working like usual. not only is your boss a smart man but he cares for his employees, especially you since you’re one of his best. but he also knows you’re stubborn so he accepted but encouraged you to not overwork yourself and take breaks.

and you did followed his advice. when you returned home, you indulged in your hobbies. you got back on track with your bullet journal, writing down events and filling in trackers for certain topics. you did some coloring in your big coloring book of mandalas while listening to music. played video games with your online friends. go on walks with daisy at the local park. doing things you enjoy as an attempt to forget how shitty the past week has been. while having fun and enjoying your time, miguel still lingers in mind.

not only him but your other spider friends. you miss them terribly, especially hobie. you can’t visit them since you destroyed your watch and you don’t wanna drive there. one thing you regret is not having a method to contact any of them. maybe you shouldn’t have thrown your watch but you didn’t want anything that had connections to miguel.

except for that white tulip.

it’s slowly deteriorating but remains in the vase on your nightstand. every time you wake up, you stare at it as the memory of him giving it to you replays in your mind. you smile each time at the cute memory.

the heartbreak still lingers. no matter what you do, miguel is always on your mind. sometimes you wonder how he’s doing, probably yelling a lot and is a total mess like you. the thought makes your heart ache but what could you do? the bastard wanted this to happen. it’s his fault; his cause.

but like mentioned before, you still care for him.

and it fucking hurts.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

three days of fucking hell.

three days of torment and regret.

he fucked up for a second time and it hurts way more this time. he hurt you again and miguel hates himself for it, causing you pain. guilt and regret consumed his entire being like a poison fruit, consuming up his already broken heart. he lost you for a second time and possibly he lost you forever.

he had let you go to protect you.

protect you from himself.

protect you from the dangers of his life.

miguel couldn’t bare losing another person he cared about. he couldn’t lose someone again. he couldn’t lose you. but he did, just not in that way. pushing you away was the only way you’d be safe, away from him and the dangers that surrounds his life. superheroes and civilians aren’t meant to be together. to be a hero, there has to be villains which equals to danger and endless violence. when you get close with a hero, whether you’re their friend, relative or lover, you’ll always have a target on your back. villains will strike the hero’s heart, their weakness: loved ones. miguel lost one, his beautiful daughter. whether she was from a different universe, she was his daughter no matter what. his whole world suddenly taken from him due to his actions. his poor gabriella vanished from his hands, crying out to him before disappearing forever right in front of his eyes.

grief and pain consumed his heart, only black with no remaining love inside. just pure self loathing. every spider-person suffered great losses, it’s part of being a spider-person, the canon. miguel’s was a different level of loss; by his own hands. that’s why he shut himself out, closed off close connections with anyone, refused to allow himself to be vulnerable with anyone. concealed his heart, locking it with a chain from allowing others to open it.

but look what happened with you.

you unlocked his heart, making him feel vulnerable. making his heart flutter every time he saw you, that beautiful smile or laugh of yours. those sassy remarks that he always enjoyed, even if he rolls his eyes or grunts. being with you made him feel happy, safe and vulnerable. it’s like a warm feeling that he wants to stay in and never leave. miguel never believed he would experience those feelings again.

you made him feel those things. you made him feel love once again. you made him believe in love again.

and yes, miguel fell in love with you.

but the fear of losing you betrayed everything, consuming his already fragile mind. it was one of the most painful decisions he made, letting you go in order to protect you. letting go of his heart.

sometimes, heroes don’t get a happy ending.

miguel still watches over you through the same monitor of your apartment building and street. those scarlet eyes following your tiny figure through the screen, filled with hurt and guilt. even in separate paths, he still looks out for you and protects you from afar. the only way he can still see you, even if it’s through a screen. miguel will always look out for you.

your protecter from afar.

ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @loser-alert @keepitreal001 @iamperson12280 @nostalgicdaira @flordelalunas @oharasfilipinawife @cho-coquette @lavenderslemonade @palesatan @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @lilscast @beanieboy23 @dorck26 @kakabskbskdnd @4crew @deputy-videogamer @36namey @sin4tra @holographicang3l @migueloharasoulmate @darlingz99 @opalesquegirl @freehentai @rinverse @colorfulbluebirdpainter @razertail18 @shadowzena43 @undf-stuff @miatjie @leshasnolife

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[funnygirlthatbelle]

If You Like Benoit Blanc...

Ever since Glass Onion came out, it seems like everyone’s obsessed with Benoit Blanc and these types of mysteries! Which is great; as someone who loves them, I’m thrilled to have more people interested in the genre. So, if you’re looking for more murder mystery stuff, might I offer some recommendations?

Hercule Poirot

Agatha Christie’s delightful Belgian detective might be the most similar to Blanc of any of the big detectives out there. And with countless novels, short stories, the tv show, and the recent movies, there’s plenty of Poirot content out there for you to enjoy! I personally recommend buying a collection of the short stories and starting from there, but really, there’s no wrong way to get into one of the world’s most famous detectives!

(Note: Agatha Christie was a wealthy British woman who began being published in the 1920′s, and this shows in some of her stories. Most of what I’ve read I’d construe as not meaning badly but definitely of the times, but it’s worth noting!)

Columbo

If you like the parts of Glass Onion where Blanc plays up the old fashioned, Southern charm and acts like a simpleton, Columbo is the detective for you. The whole conceit of this show is that we actually know whodunnit and the question is how is Columbo going to figure it out. Usually the answer is looking shabby, rambling, talking about his wife, and trapping people in their own lies. It’s incredibly satisfying to watch, and Columbo himself is very memeable.

Murder, She Wrote

The late, great Dame Angela Lansbury and her hit show Murder, She Wrote have actually been referenced in both Knives Out movies and it’s no wonder why. Jessica Fletcher is an acclaimed murder mystery author who uses her keen observation skills, knowledge from researching her books, and grandmotherly demeanor to solve murder mysteries. It’s a delightful show filled with tons of guest stars you’re bound to recognize, and J.B. Fletcher really is one of the great fictional detectives.

Pushing Daisies

Okay, admittedly I’m mostly including this one because I think everyone should watch Pushing Daisies at some point. It’s part murder mystery, part romcom, part musical, part absurdist comedy with an absolutely enchanting style. Our leads are a piemaker with necromantic powers, a dead girl walking, a jockey turned waitress, a private investigator who also knits and writes pop-up books, and two retired mermaid entertainers. It’s whimsical and wild in all the best ways while still having really creative, engaging mysteries.

There are so many incredible, unique murder mysteries out there- the genre really spans so many wonderful stories. These are just a few that I think are really fun and fans of Beniot Blanc will enjoy! For my fellow murder mystery fans, I’d love to hear what you’d recommend to folks just starting to get familiar with the genre as well!