#last night when i wasn't sure which beer to order

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 14 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The guys and Nat pull through with something big for your baby shower. Bradley can't get enough of your body, and then he gets the biggest surprise of all.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral sex, adult language, lactation kink, pregnancy topics

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"I told you this would be a shitstorm," Bradley muttered quietly before taking a sip of his mimosa. Nat did her best to decorate the Hard Deck for the baby shower, and she even wore a dress for the occasion. But most of the attendees were the guys who decided to show up in essentially their gym clothes. In fact, the only one who looked halfway decent was Jake, probably because Cat told him what to wear.

"I don't mind this shitstorm," you told him, kissing his cheek as you picked up your orange juice. Jimmy was bartending since Penny was technically a shower guest, and he kept filling up your juice and making sure you were eating the snacks. Next time Bradley saw him on a regular night, he'd make sure to leave a big tip.

"What the hell?" Bradley groaned as Javy arrived and dropped another case of beer off on the gift table. "Even I know that pregnant women can't have alcohol. What in the actual hell is wrong with these people?"

You shot a glare in his direction before you stepped away to hug Javy. You had on another one of those bodycon dresses, and Bradley knew for a fact you weren't wearing any underwear. Not a single thread of it. Just that sexy, stretchy pink dress squeezing your curves like he wanted to be doing. Javy's hand slid a little low on your back for his liking, and he raised one unamused eyebrow before you stepped away.

God, he was so fucking cranky today. He still maintained that Valentine's Day was stupid, because he loved you every day, all the time. Last year he took you to that weird hotel with the hot sauce vending machine, which was fun, but he didn't need a special occasion to do anything. Having Rose's shower on the holiday should have given it more meaning, but he was irritable. 

He knew this day would come toward the end of your pregnancy, but last night, you fell asleep while he was going down on you. And this morning when you woke up, you didn't say a word about it. Like you'd completely forgotten. Then you put on that pink dress and made yourself look all cute for the baby shower, but he could tell you were tired. The exhaustion hit you like a ton of bricks after the trip to Mexico, just when Bradley became accustomed to having sex multiple times per day. Just when you were more glowing than ever.

"Bradshaw," Jake drawled, the sound alone grating on Bradley's nerves. "Did someone piss in your mimosa?"

The stupid smirk on his face made Bradley roll his eyes. "There are two dozen people here, and I'm your best option for someone to annoy?"

Jake laughed merrily in response. "Oh, Rooster. You're always going to be my top pick. Your reactions alone are priceless. Don't tell me you've got cold feet about the baby? You can't unfuck Angel. You know that, right?"

"Jesus, you're annoying," he muttered under his breath. "It has nothing to do with that." But he kind of wanted to pout. Or get a blowjob from you. That would probably make it better. "I'm excited for the baby. Obviously."

Jake shook his head. "Then may I suggest you put a smile on your face before you upset your wife? Let her have a good day. Also, she looks hot pregnant."

"Why are you even looking at her?" he mumbled before he walked over to you. It wasn't your fault that you were exhausted and achy with delectable tits. It wasn't your fault that you fell asleep last night, even though you could have definitely held on for five more minutes so he wasn't second guessing himself now. 

"Hey," he whispered, wrapping his arms around you from behind and letting his chin rest on your shoulder. "Having fun?" he asked as the final few guests arrived. Another case of beer and a bottle of champagne ended up with the rest of the gifts when Reuben walked in. "What is wrong with these men?"

Your laughter was light as you said, "I think it's kind of charming how clueless they are. I'm not sure why we even bothered to make a gift registry. Also, can you just tell me why you're pouting, Roo?"

He shrugged against your back as he ran his palm slowly up and down your belly, hoping to feel the Nugget kick. She seemed to be running out of room in there at this point, and the kicks were harder to feel. And maybe that was part of it, too. He was used to not only your horny ass on him 24/7, but he was used to his daughter greeting him when he talked to her.

"Does this have anything to do with me falling asleep while you were giving me head?"

Bradley's eyes went wide. "Sweetheart, do you really have to announce it to the whole place? If it wasn't any good, then it wasn't any good, but you know I'll try to make it up to you later."

"Stop it," you said with another laugh as you turned to face him. You were too beautiful. All he wanted to do was make you happy. "I've been trying to think of a way to make it up to you."

"I wasn't even sure you remembered falling asleep like that," he whispered.

You ran our hand down along his cheek as your belly bumped against his abs. "I'm sorry, Bradley. I couldn't stay awake for another second last night. Rose is requiring a lot more sleep now. I think we need to mess around earlier in the day. Oh! Maybe we can mess around in one of the Broncos this afternoon! You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah," he replied, unable to keep a smile from his lips. "I'd like that."

You kissed his lips softly and ran your thumb along his mustache, leaving him wanting more. "As soon as this shitshow is over, I'm all yours."

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

"Thanks," you told Reuben as you patted the case of beer he bought for you. "So thoughtful."

"Oh, there's a gift card taped on the side, too," he told you with a smile. And sure enough, when you turned it around to look, you found it. A gift card to the liquor mart in Coronado.

"Thank you so much," you told him with a smile as you tried to figure out why everyone brought so much alcohol. "Just out of curiosity, why do you think I need this much beer and fifty dollars worth of booze?"

The guys all burst out laughing. "Because you have to live with Rooster!" Javy shouted, earning a swift middle finger from your husband. Then you started laughing, and even Nat, who looked fed up with all of them, had to hide her smile.

"We were wondering when you were going to ask," Jake said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out another gift card. "This is from us. For real this time. Congratulations."

He placed it in your hand, and tears filled your vision. Javy, Mickey, Reuben and Jake had all scribbled their names on the paper envelope, and someone had written Bob's on there even though he was still deployed. "It's for Amazon, for a thousand dollars," you whispered, afraid you were going to start actively crying.

"We heard diapers are expensive," Reuben said as he shoved chips and spinach dip into his mouth.

"We heard babies are expensive," Javy added.

"Babies are definitely expensive," Cat called out from the other side of the bar.

Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders, and you buried your face in his chest as he said, "I'm not going to apologize for flipping you off, because I'm sure you deserved it for something, but thank you."

After a few deep breaths, inhaling the comforting scent of your husband, you looked up at everyone and said a very watery, "Thank you."

There was another card from Maria and Cam attached to a high chair, and Cat picked out a onesie that said Future Aviator. Maverick and Penny bought every bath accessory a baby could ever need, and then you were left with an enormous gift bag that Mickey was handing off with a bright smile on his face. 

"You got us something else?" you asked, bewildered since he already contributed to the hefty gift card. But when you looked inside, everything was blue. Blue bibs and outfits and crib sheets. Blue everything.

"We're having a girl," Bradley told him with a furrowed brow.

"What?" Mickey asked as he turned to look at Nat. "You said they were having a boy!"

She scoffed. "I never said that."

"You said the baby's name is Ambrose!"

Nat was rubbing her temples as she looked up at the ceiling. "I said the baby's name is Rose. It's a girl."

"Ohhhh. That's why we got Rooster a box of pink cigars," Mickey said, nodding as if that made sense as he handed you a gift receipt.

"You just ruined the last surprise," Javy complained, hitting Mickey on the back of the head with a cigar box before giving it to Bradley. "Save some of those for next time we go golfing."

You watched your husband hug everyone in turn as he held onto the cigars and the gift card. And you didn't even mind that you'd probably need to exchange most of the stuff Mickey picked out. Everything was actually pretty perfect. It was chaotic, for sure. The guys ate all of the elaborate hors d'oeuvres that Nat picked out like it was a bag of Doritos, and you started crying again when Cam and Maria kissed your cheeks at the same time. But nothing prepared you for what Natasha said when you and Bradley insisted on helping her clean up at the end.

"I didn't really get anything for Rose, because I don't know what she likes yet. But I wanted to make everything easier for you both, so expect a ton of diapers and wipes to be delivered to your house this week." She pulled two wrapped boxes out from behind the bar as she said, "And these are for you."

"Nat," Bradley said, trying to push the boxes away. "You weren't supposed to get us anything at all. You threw us a fucking baby shower! It's too much!"

You watched her press her lips together for a few seconds before she whispered, "You're my best friend, Soul Sister. I never imagined I would ever see you as happy as you are now. Just take the fucking gifts. They're personalized, so I can't return them."

Bradley gave your hip a little squeeze before handing you the boxes, and then he pulled Nat in for a hug which lasted all of three seconds before she shook her head. "God, you're the worst. Just open them," she muttered, trying to pretend like she wasn't crying.

Your emotions were all over the place. You were happy and excited and horny and everything all at once. And you loved Natasha, but you weren't expecting her to pick out something so simple yet so perfectly beautiful. You unwrapped your box while Bradley opened his, and then you were both holding up luxuriously fluffy white cotton robes. Across the back of yours was stitched Rose's Mom in beautiful rose colored thread, and there was a rose embroidered on the front in the same color. Bradley's was the same but larger with Rose's Dad on the back. You slipped it on over your pink dress and did a little spin.

"This is beautiful," you whispered while Bradley put his on as well.

When you hugged her, she said, "I don't want either of you looking frumpy while you're taking care of my goddaughter."

While you hadn't given extensive thought to the honorary titles, you knew she would fit the role perfectly. You smiled and nodded. "You're absolutely right."

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

"Nat would be disgusted," Bradley said with a smile as he led you out to your quiet driveway later in the afternoon. The sky was a little dark from the storm clouds moving in, but it was still light enough out that he knew he needed to be cautious. He opened the back door of the blue Bronco and helped you in, and he was careful to help you keep yourself covered as you climbed in wearing nothing but your new robe. He tightened the sash on his, holding the front closed with one hand, and he followed you in.

"Roo," you whispered with a giggle. "I can see your cock."

He closed the door behind him and let the robe fall completely open, and soon you were yanking the sash so you could see all of him. Of course he was already hard and bobbing in excitement. "I'm pretty sure she intended for these to be worn over pajamas or underwear or something."

You just shrugged and straddled his lap, and told him, "I like it this way." You kissed his cheek while he cock was nestled up against your pussy, and he groaned in pleasure. "I'm sorry I fell asleep last night. I've been thinking about this moment all day. Wanting to make it up to you."

He felt a little bad for being so frustrated earlier, and he intended to say so, but then you pulled at the sash of your own robe, and he was treated to the sight of your swollen tits. When you shifted on his lap, they swayed ever so slightly, and he made a feral sound before leaning in to taste them. "Jesus," he moaned as he ran his nose around your breast. "So fucking warm." 

He sucked gently on your nipple while you played with his hair, hoping that the neighbors couldn't see through the line of trees into the Bronco. You tasted as good as you smelled, and he was salivating just knowing your milk would be coming in soon. Soft whimpers escaped you as he nibbled gently before sucking on you again, and you wiggled your hips until his tip was inside you. He slid his hands along the sides of your belly, and you gave him a little clench.

"Just a few more weeks, Daddy," you whispered, taking him deeper as he ran his tongue all over your chest. "Oh, you're such a good Daddy."

"Fuck," he growled, easing you back along the seat and hovering above you. "I thought this was gonna be sweet," he muttered, pistoning his cock into you, making your tits bounce. "But you're too hot."

You were whining his name, hands scrambling around for something to hold on to as he fucked you. "You don't have to be sweet, Roo. I like it rough."

"I know you do," he grunted kissing along your neck and palming your breast as he let you have it a little harder. "You're everything."

Eventually, like clockwork, his steady movements and whispered sentiments had you close. He let his hand cup your clit, his thumb stroking softly as he fucked you with sharp, strong strokes, and his other hand settled on your neck. You came instantly, your back arching, belly rising up to bump him.

"Bradley!" you screamed, and he glanced up to see if anyone was nearby. 

"Shh, Sweetheart," he coaxed, sinking his cock into your spasming pussy over and over until he couldn't take another second. "Oh, God." He pushed himself deep and dipped his thumb between your lips to keep you quieter, and he came and came. His balls were tight as he filled you, letting your body suck everything out of him that he had to give until he was a little dizzy. "Holy hell."

Your lips and tongue worked at his thumb as you lay there beneath him placidly. He kissed your nose and the perfect curve of your cheek before sitting up with his cock still inside you. You looked beautiful with your dainty rooster tattoo and your hard nipples, and when he withdrew slowly, he ran his fingers along your most intimate parts, collecting his cum.

"I hope the robes are machine washable," you whispered as you sat up, letting his cum dribble onto the fabric as you licked at his messy fingers. 

You had his cum on your lips, and your gaze was glued to his as he whispered, "Happy Valentine's Day, Baby Girl."

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

Later that week, you were climbing into bed while Bradley was adding to the Nugget Notebook. He was reading softly out loud as he wrote, and you were trying to enjoy yourself, but you didn't feel great.

"Hey, Rosie," he muttered with a smile. "Mommy's belly is looking enormous these days, and that means you'll be here soon. I don't think I've ever been this excited before. Nine months is a long time to build up this anticipation, and I'm ready to meet you. Your nursery is finished. We even had your baby shower the other day. All we're missing now is our little girl."

"That's sweet," you whispered, trying to get your stomach ache under control, but a second later, you jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom. "Oh no," you groaned before emptying the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

Bradley was pounding across the floor right behind you, and you felt his hands on your back as you threw up even more. "What's wrong?" he asked, rubbing small circles. "What do you need me to do?"

"I don't know," you wailed, wiping sweat from your brow. "I feel awful. It started a few hours ago."

"Shit," he muttered, helping you lay down on the cold, tile floor. "Why didn't you say anything before?" He got to his feet and immediately had the blood pressure cuff on you while you closed your eyes and tried to get your heart rate to calm down. "Your blood pressure is low," he whispered. "This is inconsistent. It's been on the higher side."

Your mind was swirling with information as you tried to sit up, but Bradley was already on his phone. "What are you doing?"

"Calling Dr. Morris. Just lay still, Sweetheart." He rolled a towel up and tucked it under your head while Rose squirmed.

You did as you were told, because you were suddenly so tired, you couldn't think. You started to doze on the floor as Bradley spoke with someone. You only had four more weeks to go, but you felt like this was the beginning of the end. You just wanted to get the rest of this pregnancy over with as soon as possible. As you pulled the towel over your eyes to block out the light, your head started pounding. And when Bradley checked your blood pressure a second time, you heard him sigh.

"It's a lot higher now," he told whomever was on the phone. "Yes... yes... no... okay." A few seconds later, he was laying down next to you with one strong arm wrapped around your body. He kissed your ear and whispered, "They said it could be normal for this late in your pregnancy. The last month can get rough again, but we'll keep an eye on everything. If you don't feel a little bit better by the morning, I'll take you to get checked out."

You swallowed hard. "But you're supposed to be teaching tomorrow. Remember?"

He wanted to try his hand at flight instruction. He'd been talking about it for months. There would be fewer deployments if he thought it was a good fit for him, and Maverick was giving him the opportunity fill in on occasion now for an opening in the future.

"I don't care about that," he replied easily. "Let me get you girls back in bed."

Eventually you fell asleep while he rubbed your back. You could make it a few more weeks. Probably.

You felt a tiny bit better as the days wore on, but you were exhausted and achy. Your feet started to get puffy and swollen, and you could barely make it through a day at work.

"Are you almost ready to come out?" you asked your own belly in early March. 

But Bradley shook his head and got down in his knees in the middle of cooking dinner. "Absolutely not," he whispered. "You stay in there as long as you can, Rosie." He looked up at you with wide, brown eyes. "We're all doing great. Preeclampsia is under control again. You look incredible. I'm holding down the fort. That Nugget needs to stay put."

"I'm so tired," you whined. "My mom keeps saying I need to rest now before she's born, but I can't. I can barely sleep, and I always feel like I'm on the verge of throwing up again. And I'm just so fucking tired, Bradley."

"I know," he whispered, letting his cheek rest on your enormous belly. You were handily the largest pregnant woman you'd ever seen in your life, and you swore you got bigger by the day. "I'm taking care of as much as I can so you don't have to."

You started crying. "I feel disgusting. Everything hurts. My tits feel like they're on fire. My back feels like that time I woke up hanging halfway off the bed when I was drunk after my bachelorette party. My face is broken out, and I'm hungry."

Bradley sent you to the table with a bowl of homemade soup and spent thirty minutes trying to coax you to start your maternity leave early. But what were you supposed to do with your time if you were at home? Worry about the baby? Eat until you gained another ten pounds? Get frustrated that you can't sleep?

"No," you said, shaking your head. "I like going to work. I want to go to work."

He ran his hand along his face and asked, "Are we still doing maternity pictures on Sunday?"

"Yeah," you whispered, annoyed that you had scheduled it so late in your pregnancy, but you wanted to have some photos taken while you were still pregnant for his birthday calendar. He told you ages ago that was something he'd enjoy, and at least your breasts looked pretty nice at the moment. "I need you to meet me at the beach after you're done playing golf."

"There's no way I'm going golfing, Sweetheart."

"You have to. You promised the guys you'd smoke those pink cigars with them. And you'll look adorable in the photos with your cheeks all flushed from your outing."

He rolled his eyes and grouched as he walked away. "We'll see," he mumbled. "We'll just see."

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

Bradley was sipping pink champagne from the bottle and smoking a cigar in the golf cart, and he had to admit you were right for making him come today. You were miserable now. Sometimes when he touched you, he saw you wince. The last time you and he had sex was in the backseat of the blue Bronco a month ago. He kept telling you it was okay, but you cornered him this morning when he was trying to shave around his mustache, and you gave him a blowjob.

He was still thinking about his cock sliding expertly along between your lips when Jake lit up a cigar next to him. "You're almost there old man. More responsibility than you've ever had before."

Bradley grunted in response. "I'm ready. Can't wait to meet her." He couldn't stop thinking about passing along his last name and his mom's name to a new generation. If he never met you, he was sure he'd never be at this point now, but you made everything so exciting for him. "My Nugget."

Jake smirked in response. "Feel free to call me crying a few weeks after she's born when you need a break."

"Okay. Like you're some sort of baby professional," he muttered before taking another sip of champagne. "You weren't around when Jeremiah was a newborn."

"Well, I'm around now," Jake replied with a hard edge to his voice. "And I intend to keep it that way. Been thinking about proposing."

Bradley looked him in the eye and asked, "You think she'll say yes?"

While he looked just as cocky as ever, there was something unsure in his eyes. "How could anyone say no?"

Bradley shrugged in response. "I could say no to you all day long."

"You're not a woman."

"My wife told you no as well."

Jake glared at him before laughing. "Aren't you supposed to be getting photos taken or something? We've got two more holes to finish up."

"Yeah," Bradley grunted in response, ready to get out of here and get back to you. "Javy! Let's go!"

Javy was practicing his swing while smoking his own pink cigar, and that fact that Reuben was filling in with his thirty-four handicap and chugging champagne made Bradley really miss Bob. They all wound along the pathway toward the seventeenth green. Bradley got par on both holes and handily beat the other three, and then he ended up getting changed in his Bronco to head to the beach.

He was supposed to meet you and the photographer who had made both of his dirty Baby Girl calendars at a very specific spot on a very specific beach up near Oceanside, and when he arrived, you were topless.

"Jesus," he moaned, watching you cover your tits with your hands as you spun to face him.

"You're early!" you complained as he glanced along the deserted stretch of sand.

"I don't see the issue," he told you, closing the distance until he could kiss you. His eyes drifted down to your chest as he asked, "What are you doing, Sweetheart? Dirty maternity pictures?"

The photographer snorted as you shook your head. "Don't worry about it, Roo. It's for a special project," you said, leaning up to kiss his cheek. He desperately wanted to grab at you, but the two of you weren't alone, and he didn't want to make you wince again.

"I love special projects," he whispered, a little concerned that he might get hard as you dropped your hands and took your top back from the photographer with a thank you.

Then he was subjected to two hours of photos. Two hours of being posed and prodded while sand blew in his face. Two hours of being told he was only allowed to touch you in a specific way.

"Wouldn't it be better to take photos after Rose is here?" he mused when he was finally allowed to just watch you pose alone with your hands on your belly.

"Oh, don't worry about that. We'll have another round of pictures with her, too," you informed him.

"Great."

It was one thing to enjoy pictures of you, but Bradley wasn't a very good photography subject. He got tired of smiling after about three minutes. Honestly, he'd probably smile a lot more with his tiny daughter in his arms at home instead of on the beach where the wind was kicking up.

"We're just about done," the photographer informed him, but he knew what he wanted.

"Can we get a few with the sun setting where we aren't posed at all?" he asked.

You were standing with the waves rolling up around your toes as you asked, "What did you have in mind?"

He reached for you and pulled you close, one big hand coming up to your cheek as he said, "Maybe something like this." Then he kissed you just like he always would, and his other hand found your belly. "I love you," he murmured, and you kissed him harder. Your arms were around his neck like it was your very first kiss, and he couldn't stop smiling. 

He honestly forgot there was anyone else there at all until she said, "These look perfect."

He was still smiling as his forehead came to rest against yours. "Of course they do. I'm with my girls."

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

As the month of March wore on and the days grew hotter again, you were getting more uncomfortable by the hour. Your due date was fast approaching, and you felt like you lived at Dr. Morris's office now. They were constantly taking urine samples and blood samples, and when they finally sent you home on March twentieth with a cotton ball and a bandaid on your arm, you pouted at Bradley as he drove.

"Can we stop and get some ice cream?" you asked. "I was really good during my appointment."

"You were so good, Baby Girl," he crooned playfully, giving your thigh a squeeze. "I'll get you some ice cream."

He stopped at the super secret little ice cream spot near base, and you sat on a bench together with double scoop cones. Bradley's tongue was a major distraction as he licked along his strawberry and raspberry scoops, and you had to try to keep up before your treat melted everywhere. 

When he kissed your cheek, his lips were cold as he said, "You're too slow," before stealing a huge lick from your scoops. "You're dripping onto your shirt."

"No, I'm not," you insisted. You hadn't felt anything dribble onto your outfit, but when you glanced down, there was a damp spot on your shirt. Your brow furrowed, wondering how that could be, and then you gasped. "Oh. Ohhh. Are my nipples leaking?" you asked softly, handing him your cone and trying to discreetly look down your shirt.

"Oh my god," he groaned loudly, ice creams forgotten as he tried to get a peek, too. "Please tell me the answer is yes."

You bit your lip as you pulled your tank top and snug sports bra away from your tender breasts, ready to moan from the pain and pleasurable sensations. "They are," you gasped. When you looked up into his brown eyes, there was ice cream dripping onto both of his hands, and his lips were parted in awe. "Do you want to go home?"

He grunted something unintelligible, and you watched him inhale the rest of his ice cream. The fact that he let you eat something so messy in his Bronco was almost unfathomable, but he buckled you in and sprinted around to the driver's side while you held your cone. His cheeks were bright red in the setting sunlight, and he drove a bit faster than he usually ever did, his knee bobbing in anticipation.

As you licked at your cone and rubbed a hand on your tender belly, you sweetly asked, "What exactly do you want to do when we get home, Roo?"

He glanced over at you several times, pupils blown wide, before he rasped, "I need to taste you."

"Bradley," you moaned, squeezing your thighs together as he pulled into the driveway. "Please. I want you to."

"Fuck," he grunted, shifting into park and running back around to get you. He tossed your cone over his shoulder onto the grass, and he didn't complain when you wrapped your sticky fingers around his neck. He hauled you inside and took a seat on the couch with his legs spread wide and his erection bobbing in his gym shorts. "Show me, please," he begged, and you started to strip off your shirt. When you peeled off your bra as well, his eyes went even wider, and he took you gently by the hips until you were straddling his waist. 

"Jesus Christ," he whispered, eyes darting from your face to your breasts as a small bead of your breast milk dripped from your nipple. His fingers flexed on your hips and he whimpered.

"Go ahead," you coaxed, running your fingers through his hair. You were completely mesmerized by how badly he wanted this, and when he ran his tongue along your nipple before sucking gently, you whined.

He released you with a pop as your aching belly rested against him, and the possessive look in his eyes left you breathless. You guided him closer again with your hand at the back of his head, and this time, he didn't stop. He sucked and laved, lapping up your milk and buried his face in your breasts. You were leaking from both sides now, and he didn't let a single drop go to waste. He ran his nose and his fingers through it, tasting you on his skin as well as your own.

"You're so fucking warm," he whispered reverently. "And sweet. Oh my god, Baby Girl. Oh my god." Then his flat tongue swiped out for another taste. You let him keep going, loving the feel of his mouth and mustache, almost soothing you. By the time you pulled his cock free from his shorts, his tip was bright and angry looking, and after two pumps in your hand, he came all over both of you. Your leggings and his clothing were covered, but he was still lapping at your nipples, cheeks rosy and pupils wide.

"Daddy," you whispered, pulling away as you started to feel a little overstimulated and dizzy. "That was so hot."

He sank back against the couch, looking around like he was surprised to find the mess he just made. "Oh. Fuck. I'm sorry," he whispered, chest rising and falling with each deep breath. "I'll clean you up."

But you were laughing softly. "You got so carried away."

"I know," he groaned. "Your magic tits are killing me."

You whimpered and let him help you stand, and then you took him with you to get a shower. He didn't lick them again, but his hands were right there and his eyes were hazy as he looked you up and down.

"You're obsessed. What are you going to do when I'm no longer pregnant?"

His eyes lit up. "Well, I'll be delighted. Both of my girls will be here. And it's not like I wasn't obsessed with you before you were pregnant."

"Hmm, I suppose you're right." But as you climbed into bed, completely exhausted, you smirked as Bradley wrote a few paragraphs in the Nugget Notebook. You were wearing nursing pads now, but you came up with a little plan for the following day.

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

Bradley left base a little late. He was honestly so thankful that Maverick was giving him an opportunity to help teach the newest batch of aviators to arrive at Top Gun, but it was a lot of extra work that he wasn't used to. He drove home with a folder of things he needed to take a look at, but all he could really think about was your tits. Big, round, warm, perfect.

He hadn't seen you all day, but he blushed every time he thought about how he blew his load everywhere last night. He was also a little afraid he might do it again if you let him loose on your lactating nipples. Jesus, how was he supposed to function now that he knew what you tasted like?

Anxiously, he ran his fingers through his hair. Okay, so he knew he needed it. If you were home already, he'd just ask you nicely if he could get in there before he cooked dinner. And to his delight, he saw your Bronco in the driveway when he drove down the street.

"Excellent," he muttered, trying to waddle up the walkway with a semi erect cock in his khakis. Ah, but you knew him so well. You knew he was going to be a mess all the time now. When he walked inside, you were standing there in the living room topless. He could barely see your lace panties for the size of your belly, but you were smiling as a droplet of your milk formed on your left nipple.

"Hi, Daddy," you greeted playfully, and he took two steps into the room before the look on your face changed from smiley to shocked. "Oh!" you gasped, looking down at your feet and taking a step backwards. "I think... oh my god. I think I just wet myself!"

Bradley's eyes went wide as he dropped everything he was holding. "Sweetheart. I think your water broke."

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She's coming!!! Rosie!! I'm so damn excited! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 15

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[alexiswritingstuff]

Everyone can heal.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Gn!reader

Summary: Logan falls asleep in the day room at Xavier's school, you accidently startle him awake and end up getting hurt.

Genre: hurt/comfort.

Warnings: mentions of blood, and descriptions of wounds, mentions of nightmares.

This is the first time that I am writing in a while, so I hope this isn't just straight up terrible.

A/n: this if my first fic for Logan, so like I usually say when writing for a new character, I may not have portrayed him in an accurate way. There might be parts that seem out of character and such, so please keep that in mind while reading!

Anyway, I've watched the X-men movies since I was a kid. And after watching the new Deadpool and Wolverine movie I was put right back at square one. So, here you go!

I hope you enjoy!!

It had been a long few days.

It was one of the first weeks that you had actually tried to be a professor. Of some sort.

Now, generally, you weren't exactly the kind of person that worked well with kids. It was a lack of experience on your end, as you hadn't gotten the chance to grow up with much others.

But you wanted to learn. Or... did.

The main fault was that you had forgotten to weigh your personal life, more so the things you needed, alongside being a professor in a school.

See, there were a few things that you didn't know about your abilities beforehand. Charles managed to bring some to light, and in turn, you had to figure out how to use them: Incorporate them into your training, into your fighting skills.

It was a lot to relearn. And you misjudged just how much it was going take it out of you.

Though, you didn't seem to be the only one.

Logan was practically in the same boat. Maybe even a little worse. I mean, he was good with kids, but working with them was different, especially when it's a whole group of them at a time. He even bailed on his own classes once. Or twice... could’ve been more.

But you couldn't exactly blame him.

This was the man that barely stayed a week anyway. He was always leaving, whether it was for a bar or something else, you didn't know unless you went with him.

He wasn't used to it yet. The change of being alone, pretty much all the time, to suddenly being surrounded by a boat load of people 24/7. It was understandable. Especially to you, which is probably why you had got to know him so well.

It was the end of the day. The sun was tucked far beneath the horizon, blanketing your part of the earth in a complete darkness. Minus the slight light pollution.

The hallways of the schools were empty at this time, each kid, hopefully, getting a good night's sleep for the next day of learning. But you could never be sure when it came to the teenagers.

It meant that there were less things in the surrounding area for the sound of your footsteps to bounce off. And that, combined with the size of the archways themselves, allowed the echoes to ring a lot longer than needed. 

You were on your way back to the day room, having made a quick stop by the kitchen to get more sodas in order to soothe the joint annoyance of having a lack of beer. 

It was where the two of you usually set up for quiet moments like these. There wasn't really anywhere else to go, unless you wanted to be stuck in an empty classroom, or have to sit on a freezing bench. And neither of you had an interest in being near a bed.

The most important factor about the day room, however, was that it had a TV. Which just so happened to be the first thing you heard after passing through the final corridor.

It was distant, set at a cautious volume. It must've been one of those talk shows, or maybe some kind of sitcom, as a chorus of laughter would erupt after almost every sentence said.

Either way, it didn't really matter. It had only been put on for background noise. A sound that would carry the silence whenever the two of you had stopped talking, unsure of what to bring up next.

Though, it seemed it had worked a little too well.

The last time you got a look at Logan, he had resumed his usual position. He was upright, back pressed firmly into the sofa as if he were trying to meld with it, and leant against the palm of his hand that had his elbow digging into the armrest.

Your feet halted in a matter of seconds of turning into that doorway. Your tongue was curled in your mouth, lips parted and remaining so, as your eyes had landed back on the man.

He was lying in the opposite direction. His body was sprawled across the length of the couch, though his feet were cursed to hang loosely over the edge. His muscles looked tense, regardless of the usual relief that sort of position was supposed to give a person. But that wasn't the interesting part.

His eyes were closed.

At this point the condensation on the bottles had begun to grow into little drops of water, joining together, one by one, before leaking onto your skin.

Your steps were slow, testing each of the floorboards beneath your shoes to avoid the ones that creaked like an old door.

Logan wasn't a person who got tired easily. It was part of his mutation, that of which you had learned very quickly, but apparently it had manifested into thinking that he couldn't even feel it at all. I guess you were wrong.

Though, in his defence, he may not have even meant to fall asleep when he closed his eyes.

Eventually, you had made it to the edge of the couch. There was a side table on each end of it, the safest and the closest option regardless of the fact his shoed feet were almost right above it.

You took one of the bottles in your free hand, making sure that your grip was just right, before beginning the descent to the table.

You held your breath, narrowed gaze flickering consistently from the eventual destination to the sleeping man. The concentration had even caused your tongue to poke through your teeth as you took about a step closer--

And then bam.

Right as the bottom of the bottle had touched down on the wood, this sudden guttural sound rippled through the air. It had you stumbling backwards, gaping in the direction of the continued noise that sounded like fear itself.

In front of you, now, was not the same sleeping man. In fact, this man was sat up, though almost hunched over most of his body. His arms were raised, aimed straight ahead, and that happened to be right at you.

“Whoa-- hey!”

He was heaving. Each breath taken almost shook his entire body. And the noises... They were almost like growls.

They were so deep and harsh as they pushed out of his throat one after the other, but his inhales were somehow even worse. It was like all the air in the room had suddenly dissipated.

It wasn't until you heard the seams of the couch starting to rip that you realised his claws were even out, the ends just about digging into the pillows beside him.

“Logan, hey, it's me, okay? Look,” you attempted to call, trying to lower your head so that he could properly meet your eyes, “Look, it's me!” And then he did. He saw you, even if It took a moment for it to actually kick in. 

He was still heaving, his gaze was fierce and his eyebrows never eased. He had even slightly choked on a breath on its way out.

But you saw the way he had slightly leaned back. There was a relief within the swirl of other emotions.

Until his gaze lowered.

Now, at some point in the past few minutes, the other bottle in your hand had been discarded. It most likely hit the edge of your shoe, sending it to roll off into some corner of the room where it would be forgotten about until morning... But it hadn't smashed.

So, why did something sound like it was dripping?

“Y/n.”

By the time your eyebrows had furrowed in confusion, Logan had hurriedly shoved himself up from the couch, his claws shrinking back between his knuckles within seconds. “Shit.”

You were lost. The sudden switch in atmosphere had you just standing there, fixated on the man that was moving towards you with this look on his face. Similar to one of guilt.

“Logan?” You had barely gotten the name out before you suddenly felt a hand on your arm. Your head snapped in its direction, lips parting so that you could ask what the hell was going on. And then he slightly tilted your arm.

There was your answer. “Oh.”

Three marks. There were three lines etched diagonally into your arm, one deep enough that it led the pooling blood to trickle down your skin. How did you not feel that?

“Fuck,” Logan's hand was careful. His fingers were light and gentle as they grazed the side of your arm. Hesitant. His breaths were getting louder again. “I'm…”

“I'm sorry,” he attempted, his voice barely escaping as a whisper, “I'm so sorry.”

His eyebrows were more furrowed than they were before. The rest of his face was sort of scrunched up too, like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Or he was disgusted by it.

“Logan,” You tried placing your hand on his closest wrist, but he immediately retracted. He let go of your arm, “Hey, look, I'm fine, okay?” you started louder, more insistent, “It doesn't hurt.”

Logan shook his head for a moment. He took a slight step backwards, his stance heavy. His eyes never moved. “I'm sorry.”

He grunted, the frown taking over his lips deepening for just a moment before his torso twisted. He grabbed the neck of the successfully placed soda, and then just walked around you.

“No, wait,” You tried to reach out, wanting to grasp his arm or even the fabric of his top, but he swerved, completely avoiding you, “Logan?”

You couldn't even make another attempt as if your other hand was away for longer, more blood would end up dripping on the floor. So, your body turned, desperate eyes following the man in a way that was more of a plea than anything else.

But he never looked back. He continued walking through the doorway, rubbing hard against his temples with a final grunt before disappearing behind the wall.

~~~

The time, at this point, was unclear. The clocks in this school were usually around the learning areas, mostly in the classrooms, which created a sort of guessing game anywhere else.

It was apparent, however, that the sun had just begun to rise. Peeking over the horizon enough so that a bright mist seeped into most of the corridors.

You found yourself back in the hallways. There wasn't a very clear reason as to why than this inability to sit. A failure to be still for seconds at a time, regardless of the tiredness that had started to cling to your skin.

But that was the last thing on your mind.

You kept thinking about it; the previous encounter. It was sort of plaguing your mind, more so how you handled it.

Granted, it was in fact your first time having to deal with a situation like that, and usually you were on the other side. Though this seemed different, like something had just been exposed.

You were aware of the fact that Logan had nightmares. I mean, it was one of the most believable things about him, considering the things he'd gone through. The extent, however, was undetermined.

Until today.

A huff of air sifted through your lips as you attempted to straighten your spine, stretch the accompanying muscles that had grown tense over the past few hours.

The aimless walking was almost nice. The surroundings were mostly quiet, excluding the wind that whistled against the glass of the windows, having picked up some time earlier.

It was that time of year again. The group of months where the weather grew cold and the plants began to change. It almost made the school feel cosy even if there was no heating in the hallways.

In fact, where you were now was the coldest, and it wasn't until you looked up properly that you realised you were about to walk into a dead-end.

Slowly, your feet came to a stop, your lazy eyes blinking hastily in the blaring yellow light, which was starting to mix into this sort of orange.

Your shoulders lowered, a sense of relief filtering through your system as the decision had been final. You were going to go to your room, maybe even get to lay down for a few hours until it was time to teach.

So, you turned on your heel, taking about a step in the other direction as your blurry eyes attempted to focus on the closest doorway, until you could note the surroundings. It was the kitchen.

Now, that door was always open, usually swung all the way back and held by a stopper. But a light was on. Allowing you to properly get a view of the room and what was in it.

More so who.

Your movements had halted right as you were about to take another step.

Logan.

He was sitting at the narrow table at the back, set between the array of windows. His elbows were against the surface of it, one of his hands clasped around a bottle he had just set down. He swallowed, and so did you.

There was an initial pause, seconds taken to calculate the right decision, before you went in. Your lips parted, ready to release the script you had gone over in your head for the last hour--

“I didn't mean to hurt you.”

Instead, you were frozen. The volume of his voice, and the angle he sat at, almost made it seem like the words didn't even come from him. He probably heard you before you had even come down the hall.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “Logan–” you tried, but his mouth opened before you could even finish, “Just let me talk,” He hadn't moved. He was in the same position, still holding the bottle, and staring straight forward like there was someone there across from him. “Okay?”

You brought your lips together, placing a hand on the kitchen island to distribute your weight. Logan took the silence as acceptance and he cleared his throat. “I'm sure you already know,” he had begun, sparing the slightest glance your way for confirmation that didn't even need, “about the... nightmares.”

It was as if something in his mouth went sour when he said it, like the words itself tasted bad.

“Some are about the past, you know-- bits and pieces of it, anyway, but…” Logan paused for a moment, both verbally and physically. It only held for a few seconds. And then he sighed. “There are other ones too- Ones... ones where people get hurt, and, I'm…”

“I'm the one doing it.” It was a slow movement, an action that looked like it had to be forced, as Logan suddenly began turning in his seat. He met your eyes with a look that had your eyebrows furrowing all over again, “I'm the one hurting people.”

“Y/n, I'm sorry.”

“Logan,” you started, shaking your head in disagreement with the apology, but he only repeated it. “I'm so sorry.”

You made your way to the edge of the island, pace slowing once round the corner, “Hey,” Logan's gaze had shifted as you moved. It was lower, directed at a specific point. He was looking at your arm.

It had been engulfed by a layer of, hopefully, the appropriate bandaging. An attempt at following the tips Jean had given you from previous injuries.

But it being covered somehow made it seem worse than it was.

“Hey, look at me,” you called, stopping at a good place where you were actually in front of him, yet still a good distance away so he wouldn’t want to back off. “Look at me.” 

The next words only left your lips when he had finally decided to comply. “I'm fine.” you assured, the tone of your voice much lighter than before. But that made the look on Logan's face shift, “I hurt you.”

“It was an accident,” Your response was quick, your voice making it sound so simple. Like the sentence said should’ve been accompanied by a shrug of the shoulders. Logan didn't like that, “Accident or not, I still hurt you, Y/n.” His tone was riddled with this disbelief, as if he couldn't believe that he had to tell you that in the first place.

“And, I'm still here, Logan.”

You didn't understand it. The two of you had trained together many times, each round ending with either one receiving a new injury until your skills developed. Hell, you had been in battle together.

A little scratch was nothing. “It was a mistake-- my mistake. I'm the one who startled you, shit like this happens.” you tried to assure. Logan scoffed immediately, “What-- Does that make it magically okay for me to hurt people?”

“No!” you huffed out, the ability to contain your annoyance dwindling the more he challenged your statements. “No, okay? But-- You know, what-- Look.”

You took a few more steps, the care for all of the previous caution going completely out the window as you grasped an end of the bandaging, and unwinded the material before pulling back the padding beneath.

“See?”

Logan almost looked like he had buffered for a few seconds. He blinked, and then again, and then twice really fast, as if it would change what was in front of him. His hand had even flexed, like he wanted to reach it out, though it remained on the table.

They were gone. Each mark, each line that was carved into the skin had completely gone. Disappeared without a trace. There wasn't even a scar.

“You…” He spoke slowly, his eyes trailing up the length of your arm to your shoulders. And then your face. “You can regenerate?”

“Granted, a little... Well, a lot slower than you-- But, yeah.” you confirmed, wrapping the bandage up in your hands before placing it on the kitchen aisle behind you.

Logan leaned back slightly in a way that straightened his up spine. He brought his legs from under the table and set them in the direction the rest of his body was facing. He had turned right towards you.

“Are you serious?” The complete deadpan had you staring right back at him. You couldn't read the expression, nor the stance. You didn't even know what to call it. “Yep.” You blinked. Logan didn't move a muscle, “You can heal.” 

Now, you could hear it in his voice. It wasn't just a statement, a form of repetition to clarify the new information. He was getting mad.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “I... I don't really know what else you want me to say.” Which was the truth, the whole healing thing was one of the things you had discovered with Charles. 

It's an entirely different process than it is for most anyway, let alone when it comes to Logan. At the moment you actually had to activate the process for anything to heal. But you were working on it.

I guess it just slipped your mind.

“So, you were just willingly acting like a damn damsel?” The lines around his eyebrows deepened the way they usually did when he was getting angry. And they weren't stopping.

“A damsel?” you repeated, even tilting your head as a wordless question, and he just nodded. “You stood there. You just stood there until I came to you-- You didn't even try to stop the bleeding. Hell, did you even notice?”

That look on his face never changed. You hated it. The way it darkened his eyes, or tensed the surrounding muscles. The most bothersome thing, however, was the fact that it was aimed at you. “No,” you started, this time with a deeper voice. “No, I didn't-- You know, why?”

“Why?” Logan commanded, the veins around his neck becoming apparent. It was as if he was trying to win an argument, get the upper hand and serve some kind of justice, like you had done something wrong.

He was supposed to be relieved.

“Maybe, it's because that was the last thing I cared about, Logan!”

The two of you were just staring at each other. At this point, both of you were almost heaving, the past few minutes taking the air out of both pair of lungs.

The expression on Logan's face twitched for a moment, a crack in the anger that usually wasn't breakable. His posture had become more of a slouch as he suddenly decided to lean back a little, like before.

You watched with curious eyes when he then sighed, breaking the held gaze to grab his bottle of soda and bring it to his lips.

It all resembled a puzzle. A constant attempt to find the right piece, the right thought, that would fit it all together. But there was a lack of progress. You were at a loss. 

Was he mad that you didn't tell him? Was he actually mad that you didn't do anything about the scratches? Were you reacting the wrong way? Did he want you to hate him? Were you supposed to?

Or did he think that you couldn't grasp the situation? The severity. The big 'What if?' Maybe he was in fact tired. 

Just a different kind.

You started to move after another few seconds, the sound of your shoes against the tiles piercing through the layer of created silence. It was apparent that Logan was watching, albeit discreetly, following what he could as he took another swig.

Your movements concluded by the length of the table he was sitting at. You leaned onto it, releasing that weight that had started aching both your knees and your feet from standing for so long.

By the time your eyes were back on Logan, his own had snapped away.

You took in a deep breath of the cold air, feeling it hit the back of your throat, your shoulders deflating, “I get them too, you know... Nightmares.”

There was a beat of silence again. A lack of movement, or reaction. And then he met your eyes again. Slower this time, almost hesitant. He set his drink down ,listening. So, you continued, “I wouldn't go about comparing them,” 

“But, I understand enough to know what it's like.”

Logan sort of huffed a laugh after that. Not a malicious one, or in disbelief of the sentiment. He was acknowledging it. “You shouldn't have to.” 

He was back to that whisper of a voice again. It was still deep, and a tad gravely, almost forceful. But it conveyed enough. “Neither should you.. yet,” you paused, shrugging your shoulders, “Here we are.”

This time, the huffed laugh was louder. More pronounced in a way. It left a mark on his lips, leaving them curling at the corners. It fit right in. You wanted it to stay. Maybe a little too much, “At least, now, I get to say that I was attacked by The Wolverine and survived.” 

The comment was a little dangerous, especially if taken the wrong way. In all honesty, your eagerness allowed it to be blurted right through your lips before you could catch it. 

But Logan practically snorted. “Shut up.” he breathed, bringing the soda back to his lips. You pretended that you didn’t hear him, even crossing your arms over your chest, though a grin had slightly appeared, “I could even say that I defeated him.” 

In about a second his eyes had snapped to yours, a singular brow rising as the bottle smacked onto the surface of the table, “Okay,” He swallowed, “you did not defeat me, bub.”

“Oh, really?” you challenged, attempting to mimic his expression. “You were done after one move.”

Logan pushed the chair with his back in a way that had the legs screeching against the tiles. He stood from it, moving about a step to the side before continuing towards you.

“I was distracted.” he pointed out, gaze narrow as his eyebrows decided to furrow in an attempt to support his justification. “Excuses, excuses,” was all you said, accompanying it with a light shrug.

Logan was right in front of you now. He was close, about a step away. Though, the longer he looked at you, his eyes scanning across the skin of your face, that amusement once held had begun to fade.

He became sort of serious, the tension making the lines of his face more prominent all over again as his lips curved into more of a frown.

“I don't want it to happen again.” He was avoiding your eyes now, his own gaze cast downward. They were following his hand as he had brought it to your arm, the fingers of which ghosting across where the marks had been like he could still see them.

“Logan,” you started, your voice quiet yet loud enough that his attention was recovered. The two of you were looking at each other again, this time properly. Your features eased, all of the concern and the previous anger completely melting away.

You brought the hand of your previously injured arm upward, and he watched it until it went out of his vision.

You gently placed your hand on the side of his cheek, your palm pressing into the hair of his mutton chops which brought his gaze back to yours. And then you smiled lightly, just enough that he could see it, “Even if it did, I am not going anywhere.”

There was this quick twitch in Logan's expression. A split second of movement that had almost gone unnoticed until it happened again. His eyebrows pinched together.

Before you could say a word, he had suddenly pulled you forward, away from the table you were once against.

By the time you were up straight, his arms had wrapped around your body one after the other, entrapping you in this warmth that the kitchen could never achieve. It had you copying him as fast as you could, letting your hands land across the skin of his back and the fabric of the tank top.

Logan's head was planted on your shoulder, his hair sort of tickling the side of your face as he tucked himself in further. 

His body slightly deflated after a moment, a sort of gravelly hum of content rumbling from his throat. He obviously wasn’t putting his entire weight on you, the two of you would've tipped over within seconds. But you could feel it.

An extra weight that you were glad to carry.

[blorbocedes]

BROCEDES! ROOMMATE AU + UNEXPECTED VIRGIN!

‘Take a shot if your body count is more than 5!’

Most of the crowd drinks, even those with obviously shifty eyes and guilty demeanours. Lewis drinks.

He was coursemates with Adrian the previous semester and had to hear his bitching and moaning about the bitches he gets – the lack thereof, spots him drinking too. Nico’s standing at the end of the couch, expensive loafers careful to step around the sticky spilled beer.

He nurses his red solo cup, untouched. Lewis frowns.

‘Take a shot if your body count is double digits!’

Fewer people drink this time. The crowd goes ‘ooh’ at the ones who do. Technically, Lewis’ is 7 – 8 if you count the blowjob and her getting her period at the last second, opting out. But college athletes have a reputation to maintain, so Lewis finishes off his cup.

This time, Nico is watching him. Smiles when their eyes meet and does a mock salute, lips still not grazing his drink.

What the fuck? What could it be? It bothers Lewis that Nico’s not being honest. He's seen Nico half-lidded hanging off some guy’s arm at a party or cuddled into some girl to know better. Although, since Nico has access to all the population instead of 50%, it would make sense if his count is twice as high.

A pretty girl in a low cut top and blonde highlights taps Lewis on the arm to dance with her, and all thoughts of his roommate and how many people he fucks are forgotten.

A few hours later, the party has died down. Cold pizza and the music is less in-your-face, more indie. A small group gather on the floor playing the laziest truth or dare with a half empty bottle of Bacardi. The guy beside Nico is in an obnoxious leather jacket and tight pants, and his hand rests on Nico’s thigh.

It falls on Lewis.

“So… Lew-iss,” Natalie? maybe asks, voice slurring a little. “Do you remember when you first met Nico?”

Nico raises an interested eyebrow. Of course he remembers. However, Lewis is aware they asked the question because people think him and Nico are secretly hooking up because they live together, and since Nico’s seen with everyone. His teammate Felipe and his girlfriend are within earshot.

“Nah, man. I don't remember shit like that. I remember when I like, lost my virginity.” Lewis offers as bait.

Nico frowns, it's cute on him. Brows wrinkled up.

Naomi(!) bites. “Tell us about how you lost your virginity.”

“That's two questions.” Lewis leans back, flashing his most charming gap-toothed smile. Everyone's too drunk to keep track of whose turn it is.

Nico disappears off with Mr. Skinny Jeans.

It's a little while later when Lewis has smoked a spliff to clear his head, rejecting the blonde highlights girl’s offer back to her dorms which is on the other side of campus, when Nico returns, hair mussed and shirt buttoned more than it was when he left.

“Home?” He asks. Lewis follows.

Nico’s a pretty chill roommate. He grew up with a silver spoon and an only child, so he has no concept of sharing. Instead, when he orders Thai, he makes sure to order for two so that Lewis doesn't try to eat any of his dumplings. Lewis gets to have the flat to himself a lot since Nico disappears for the night, returns at early hours of the night with glitter on his cheek or bite marks on his neck and a cheeky smile before collapsing on the couch. Lewis can't complain, it makes bringing girls over easier. And when Nico is studying, he keeps to himself. Lewis will know, because there will be an extra coffee for him. In turn, Lewis gets rids of the bugs in the flat – the first time Nico seeing a cockroach asking if they should call pest control or sue their landlord for unhygienic living conditions.

“Why didn't you drink? At the body count question?” Lewis asks, breaking the amiable silence of their walk home, and the lack of filter signalling he was drunker than he thought.

Nico hums thoughtfully. “Cause that would be a lie?”

Lewis tries to make sense of that, doing math in his head. “No…? It wasn't about the exact number, just if it's more than.”

“Yeah,” Nico smiles, unlocking the door and stepping side. “That would be a lie.”

Lewis rolls his eyes. Nico and his riddles and his games. “It would only be a lie if you're a virgin. Which you're not.” He snorts at the thought.

Nico’s eyes flash dangerously. “Yeah?” Nico turns around, effectively trapping Lewis between the door. “You think about who gets in my pants a lot, Hamilton?”

Lewis feels a flush rise in his neck. Thank god for melanin, if he were Nico he'd have two giant red spots on his cheek right now.

“I don't care who you sleep with. Or don't sleep with.” Lewis tries to go for gruff, chill, but it doesn't quite land. He gets out of Nico’s cornering, going to the couch. “It's just weird you’d lie considering Jenson–”

“Oh if Jenson said it, it must be true.” Nico’s sarcasm is shrill and annoyed, betraying how drunk he is.

It does make Lewis pause. Jenson has a habit of embellishing stories of his conquests. The fated twins threesome never happened, he had separately hooked up with twins. Lewis remembers Jenson bragging in the locker room how he rocked Britney’s world and Lewis had worn his his shin guards with a little more force than necessary.

“Rock my world?” Nico rolls his eyes, leaning against the wall. “Hardly. We made out for forty minutes until he came in his pants.”

TMI because now Lewis is inundated of images of Nico, mouth swollen and bodies entangled while fully clothed.

“So you're actually a virgin? What about all those people?” Lewis is still trying to wrap his head around it. Nico is the most sexual person he knows. He eats yoghurt off the spoon distractingly, and has no shame walking around the apartment naked. Very sexual liberation chic, and Lewis had to draw up boxers boundaries.

Nico wrinkles his nose. “So you get with the easiest lay on campus and you're the only person he won't fuck. Do you want to admit something's weird and wrong with you, or do you just go about inferring you had sex? It's not like I'm going to correct them.” He must see something on Lewis’ face because he interjects, defensively offensive, “Don't ask why it's better to have a reputation. I know your tells. You drank twice.”

Lewis chooses his words carefully, gentle like he's not trying to spook a wild cat. “I'm not judging. I'm just surprised. Nobody figured it out?”

Nico softens at the tone. He sinks on the couch beside Lewis. “Honestly, you're the first person to notice.”

Lewis finds that sad. “Hey, we don't need to talk about this if it's a sensitive topic. I'm sorry I –”

“Jeez, Lewis. I don't have trauma, I'm just frigid. A pricktease. Nothing bad ever happens to a Rosberg.” Nico works on the complicated laces of his boots. He hates being pitied.

Lewis leans over. “It's really not all that cracked up to be. The first time, at least. Cause you're bad at it and you don't know how to pace yourself. Lots of people wait until they're ready. My first time, it was this girl I was seeing after GCSEs. We couldn't find a place so we got in my dad’s old Subaru. Lasted like 30 seconds. Wiped the whole place down but I was convinced he would know somehow. Come Sunday, I went and told him. He hadn’t the slightest clue. So that was an awkward drive to church.”

Nico gawks him, crumpling into himself laughing. Lewis regrets being a vulnerable and oversharer of a drunk. Nico’s gelled hair has come undone from hours of partying and falls over his eyes. Lewis is never going to open up to anyone ever again.

“On God's day, Lewis?! And you think I should save myself until marriage? Find myself a nice, righteous wife?”

“Someone you trust. Someone you're into.” The room spins a little. Nico Rosberg is a virgin.

“Someone who’d remember when we first met?” Nico challenges. "That's not very nice, is it? I can't believe you forgot--"

“You were checking out an encyclopaedia on space at the library. I wanted the Senna autobiography. We were 12.”

Nico’s eyes go wide. Lewis holds his gaze.

[starry-eyedblog]

just found your account and it’s been lovely diving thru your work, your amazing ✨

If your still taking requests can I suggest celebrating with John as he goes from Lieutenant John Price to Captain John Price

hello, thank you so much anon <3 i'm glad yer enjoying my work, stay as long as you'd like!!

this is such a juicy idea, i'm actually ravenous thinking about it

warnings/tags: john price x gn reader, oral (blowjob), drunk sex, tiny mention of power imbalance

when john officially found out that he was moving up rank to captain, he kept his cool around the superior officers, saying his thanks and showing gratitude before hunting you down to share the good news. of course, you were the first to find out and hugs and kisses were in order.

after around ten minutes of praising him in-between breathless kisses, you rewarded him with a very much deserved blow job. really taking your time with him and doing all his favourite tricks to give him the most pleasure you could with your mouth. he came pretty quick, your eyes staring up at him while you swirled your tongue around his leaking tip.

after you cleaned up, he was off to round up his troop of soldiers he commanded and oversaw to tell them the news with you wrapped around his arm. they cheered and clapped for their now captain, saying there had to be a party tonight to celebrate.

it didn't take long for his soldiers to set up a party last minute that night, making sure there was plenty drink and snacks to enjoy the night. a few of them hung up banners that were kept in the cupboards waiting to be used for all kinds of celebrations, a generic saying written sparkly on them.

you sat on the couch for the majority of the night, watching from afar how a stream of people all different rankings came up to congratulate your boyfriend or make small talk. it made your heart warm, seeing him climbing up the ranks and getting the respect and recognition he deserved.

throughout the night, people would sit next to you and make conversation with you, mostly about john but you didn't mind, getting to speak about your partner and his achievements just reminded you of how proud you were of him but also just how much you loved him.

at some point through the party though you were dragged down a dark corridor by john and into a room you'd never step foot into. as he flickered the lights on, your eyes adjusted and was able to make out that it was an office, and a pretty big one at that. it then clicked, this was john's own office.

"pretty nice, eh doll?" he said smugly as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist from behind, head resting on your shoulder and you could smell the beer and bourbon from his breath. it's not like you were any better though, throwing drink after drink back in happiness.

"they are letting you have this?" you slurred quietly, resting your hands on top of his with a giggle and price chuckled against your neck which had sent a shiver down your spine. "all fuckin' mine sweetheart. c'mon we gotta christen it, dontcha' think?" he mumbled into your neck before he started to suck and bite at the skin, his hands tightening around you.

you squirmed in his grip, moaning and whining before you begged for him to take you over his new desk. it was beautiful, dark mahogany with no scratches or marks and took up a good amount of space in the office.

john had wasted no time in pulling you over to the desk and pinning you down on your back so he could see your face. it wasn't long before he was fumbling with buttons and zippers, desperate to get inside of you but after a bit he finally had managed to get his cock out enough to slip into you and fuck you into his desk.

he felt so powerful here, taking you on his new desk in his new office that was all his. he was a captain now, an even higher rank than you and it just made him harder due to the power imbalance. though he was pretty boozy, his thrusts were relatively on time and he was hitting all the right spots for you.

"fu-fuck captain, so so good." you slurred out, eyes rolling into the back of your head as john pounded into you. when it clicked in his drunk mind what you had called him, his thrusts came to a stop and a rough hand wrapped itself around your throat.

"what did you jus call me?" he grumbled, looking into your dazed eyes. "ca-captain," and after those words had left your mouth, john moaned lowly. "yeah that's right baby, c'mon call me it again." he panted, his thrusts picking up again as you continued to cry and moan for your captain to make you cum.

@bjornthebearguy

@iciclesses

@mothymunson

[yelenasdiary]

Platonic idea! Nat meets reader (female) undercover while on a mission. Maybe R’s a waitress trying to make ends meet for her kids, while Nat frequents the restaurant for her mission as that’s where she meets her target. They develop a friendship, but R doesn’t know nats true identity. One day, shit hits the fan w the mission and R is caught in the crosshairs. Suddenly her “friend” is in a fight with random people. But Nat makes sure to protect R. When it’s all done, Nat explains herself and her true identity. Bonus points if she helps R w her financial situation. Thanks!

You're Too Nice!

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Single Mom! Reader (Platonic)

Summary: With struggling to make ends meet with your current job, you were surprised when a guest tips you every time she comes to eat, leading to an unexpected friendship.  

Comfort? | Slight Angst | Mentions of Blood | Gun Violence | Reader has 2 children | Held Hostage | 2K |

AC: Thank you for sending this!! I miss platonic Nat!! I hope you enjoy this x

"What can I get you today, Nat?" you smiled softly at the red head as you came up to her table. The new guest now eats regularly at the restaurant you worked at. She told you she'd just moved to town and was a terrible cook and enjoyed the food here. Although, this place wasn't a place you thought somebody could afford to eat at almost every night for dinner, but it was clear that Natasha had money, with every tip she left you was bigger than the last. 

"I think I'll have the rib-eye steak tonight" Natasha looked up with a smile.

"Good choice, would you like a wine to go with it?" you asked, dotting down her order. 

"Sure, what not. Surprise me, I trust you have good taste" she replied.  

"I'll be right back" you gave the redhead a light nod before walking over to the bar and getting your co-worker to find the best wine that would go down with her order. "What's her deal? She eats here every night" the bartender asked. 

"She just moved here and enjoys the food" 

"Ha! I wonder how long it'll take until she gets bored of this place" your co-worker poured a glass of wine before handing it too you, "I don't know, she seems different" you took the glass and made your walk back to Natasha. 

"Here's your wine, your food shouldn't be too far away" you smiled once more, placing the glass on the table. "Thank you" Natasha smiled but her eyes stayed glued to the table of gentlemen a few tables away. A group of 17 men all in suits, laughing over poorly made jokes as they sipped on their beers, whisky. You tried to work out, slyly, which gentleman she was so intrigued by, but you noticed she wasn't just watching one, but all. 

"If those gentlemen are too loud, I'd be happy to move you to another table" 

Natasha looked up at you then back at the table of gentlemen, "no it's okay. I was just wondering what they were laughing at" she replied, brushing off your offer. "My mistake, I'll be back with your order shortly" 

That you did, you placed her order on the table and told her to enjoy and that if she needed anything just to holla. You waited on other guests while Natasha sat by herself, eating her dinner and sipping her wine. By the end of the night, Natasha along with the table of gentlemen and a few others, were the only ones left. 

Natasha waved you down and asked for the check as she got out her purse. You returned to her table not long after, placing the check on the table. "I hope you enjoyed your meal tonight" you smiled. 

"It was lovely, and the wine went down just as well, I knew I could trust you with" Natasha replied, placing $300 on the table. "Oh, please. this is too much!" You looked to her, she was tipping you $150 for your service. "Please, take it. You deserve it. I've seen how hard you work and how little you get. Also, it seems you need to get home to your child or children so you're not paying the babysitter too much, right?" she explained to your surprise.

You nodded, "How'd you know?" you asked. 

"You keep checking your watch and the butterfly sticker on your name badge gave it away. How old?" 

You totally forgot that your 4-year-old daughter had placed a blue colored butterfly sticker on your nametag before your shift started. Money is tight and you try your best to not work late as the babysitter charges by the hour, on some occasions when you knew work was going to be busy around the holidays, you'd ask her for a flat rate which she was kind enough to set a price but you always felt bad that you were taking from her rather than giving. 

"My daughter is 4 and my son is 6" you answered the redhead with an almost embarrassed look. 

"They sound lovely" Natasha smiled, handing the check back to you, "If you're working tomorrow night, I'll see you then" she added before standing up from her seat.

----

It's been a few weeks since you told Natasha about your children and since she was new to town you offered to show her around on your day off. Quickly, the two of you formed a friendship that honestly surprised you. Going from waiting on her whenever you had a shift to now sitting in a park drinking a hot coffee while your children played. 

"What made you move here?" you asked, dying to know. 

"I heard it was peaceful and I need peaceful in my life right now. Besides, the café near my apartment makes great muffins" she replied before taking a sip of her coffee. 

"I've got to ask, do you not know how to cook?" 

Natasha laughed, "I guess you can't count making peanut butter sandwiches cooking, can you?" 

You shook your head, "not, that's barely a meal!" You chuckled, "Look, I love cooking. I'd be happy to cook a little extra and drop it off to you. It'll save you from having to come to the restaurant every night, which now sounds really bad like I'm trying to drive you away from us" you offered before blabbering on. 

"I don't mind it; in fact, I enjoy it. The service is really good" Natasha replied with a chuckle. 

"Maybe you should get a job there, you've seen pretty much how it works and what we do, how we do it. If you're looking, I can talk to the manger" you offered before taking another sip of your coffee. 

"You're too nice, did you know that?" Natasha turned to you, "is that a bad thing?" you questioned. 

"It can be. Some people might take that for granted" 

"The world is already full of crappy people doing crappy things, there needs to be more people doing kind things" you explained, making Natasha chuckle at your choice of words. "Crappy things?" she questioned with a raised brow. 

"Sorry, I try to reframe from swearing. I don't want my kids to swearing just yet" you explained.

 Natasha nodded, "So if you think that there needs to be more people doing kind things, why do you try to refuse to take my tips every night?" 

She had you there. 

"W..I..well, I am very grateful for your tips but I feel bad for taking them. I give you the same service I give any other guest an- "

"and they don't see how wonderful your service. Lets make a deal, I'll let you drop off some food if you take my tips without trying to get me to stop, deal?" She interrupted you. Again, she had you. 

"Fine, deal" you playful shook your head. 

----

The night started off normal as usual, except Natasha hadn't come in. A table of 3 gentleman in suits waited patiently for a fourth member and none of them seemed happy to be there. But regardless of their rudeness towards you, you gave them your best service and did your best to make sure they would leave without complaints.

"That wasn't the deal!" one man shouted as you quietly came up to their table, placing their second round of drinks on the table. "I don't care if you don't think it was the deal, it's the deal now!" another snapped. 

"That's it!" the first man replied with anger before standing from his chair. 

"Sit down! Don't make a scene" the other muttered, "I'm sorry miss, somebody has had one too many drinks tonight" He looked at you with an apologetic smile. Before you knew it, your life flashed before your eyes as the angry man wrapped on arm around your neck, trapping you in a headlock while having a gun pointed to your left temple. 

You instantly dropped your notepad and pen in shock. Other guests took cover under the tables while staff called 9-1-1. 

"Let her go, idiot! You're over reacting" one of the gentlemen spoke. 

"We had a fucking deal! If you do this, my entire business will go under and I won't let you do that to me! Not again!" your attacked spat back, pressing his gun harder against your temple. 

"P-please, let me g-go" you sobbed, tears rolling down your cheeks. All you could think about were your children and how badly you just wanted to get home to them. "Shut up! And as for you bastards, if you do this, I will make sure the entire world know what you plan to do!" 

"Damn, looks like you guys beat me to the fun" a familiar voice caught your attention, Natasha. "Who the fuck are you?" Your attacker turned you both slightly to face her. "How about you let her go and I'll show you who I am?" Natasha replied with a light smirk, her own weapon pointed at the man holding you tightly in his hold. 

 The man pushed you to the floor and quickly fired his gun at Natasha, missing her as she took cover and taking him out with a clear shot between the eyes. The other man quickly jumped up from their seats with their own weapons pointed at the red head you considered a good friend. Meanwhile, you took cover under a table with other guests while the sounds of guns and bullets flew across the restaurant. 

Moments passed and you along with all the other guests were too shaken up to come out from under the tables as the restaurant grew with silence. Some guests began to emerge from the safety, "It's safe now everybody, you can come out" Natasha announced but still, you couldn't bring yourself to come out from under the table until Natasha came to you. 

"Are you okay?" she asked with worry in her eyes. 

"W-what, I m-mean who are you?" you asked, hesitant to take her hand. "How about we get you home and I'll explain everything" Natasha offered. You had no reason not to trust her, she did just save your life. So you took her hand and nodded softly, still in shock. 

----

"So you're an avenger? That explains why I've felt like I've seen you before" you looked up at Natasha she handed you a cup of tea, Nat chuckled, "I couldn't say anything. I was undercover and I'm so sorry you got in the middle of all that" she sat down beside you. 

"Hey, the way I see it, I now have a fun story to tell the kids later on when they're older" you chuckled, taking a sip of your drink. "I guess you'll be moving back to New York?" you asked, your eyes dropped to the mug in your hands. 

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean we still can't be friends. I'll give you my number and we can catch up whenever. Besides, I think I'm going to really miss the food" Nat smiled softly. Making you playfully shake your head at the Avenger, "I should get going, I have to report back to my team but I'm going to write down my number and leave it on the fridge for you, okay?" she added. 

"Sure" you smiled, "thank you for the lift" you added. 

Natasha left, leaving her number stuck on your fridge for you to put in your phone later on. You placed your now empty mug in the sink for tomorrow's problem when you noticed a small bag on the countertop, you did recognize it and assumed that Natasha had left it behind, so you called her. 

"Hey Nat, it's Y/n. You left a bag in my kitchen" you spoke when she answered the phone. 

"Open it, it's yours" Natasha replied, "I'm going to hang up before you can say anything about it" she chuckled before she hung up. Slowly you unzipped the bag to be greeted with a sight of cash, more than enough to help you get on top of rent for months to come with a little left over to buy general things for your kids. On top of the cash was a note;

"Just a kind person doing a kind thing, don't think too much about it. Thank you for your lovely service, I'll see you again soon. 

 ~ Nat x"

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @natasha-belova | @blackwidow-3 | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @ahintofchaos | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @donnietarantino | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @hehehehannahthings | @pandaemonium111 | @imnotslouching | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie | @marvel-madnessx | @scarsw1fe | @toldthatdevil | @itsmv3 | @natashaswife4125 | @katiemay-025 | @aphrcdtes | @romanoffs-widow | @natsxwife | @maria-403 | 

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Imagine # 1,060

Picture NOT mine.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (Roughly) - 12 minutes

This one was actually a request, which I don't typically do, but sometimes I simply can't resist!

Tag(s) - @rishdrago

With a tired sigh (Y/n) sat the last of her groceries onto the counter in her kitchen. It was another long day at work, with another grueling case coming to a close. While she loves her job, sometimes it really takes a toll on her. But now at home all she needs to worry about is putting away her groceries, and making a quick dinner. Easy enough. If it wasn't for the sound of a floorboard creaking in the hallway that set her into fight or flight mode.

Spinning on her heel in an instant, she unholstered her pistol and aimed at the doorway to the hallway. "You really messed up you know, but if you know what's good for you, you'll come into the light nice and slow. Otherwise you're gonna leave my house in an ambulance, or a body bag." (Y/n) called out to the would be intruder, bracing herself for a potential firefight. But when the intruder rounded the corner, and came into sight, she nearly dropped her gun. "Frank?" She breathed out in a whisper, her arms falling to her sides. "Frank's dead." He muttered mournfully. "You look pretty fucking alive to me." She sassed as she holstered her pistol, knowing deep down that she could still trust Frank with her life.

The behemoth of a man simply shrugged his shoulders, taking a small first step into the room, as if he was testing the water. "What are you doing here?" She asked turning back to her groceries, while letting him come into the room at his own pace. "I killed Gianni Franco." He stated as he walked up to the other side of the counter, leaving the space between them to prove he meant her no harm. "Trust me Frank, I am well aware of that. You do realize I'm still a detective right? And I'm still friends with Jake you know, so I'm the one he goes to, to vent about you." She glanced his way, trying to get a read of his reaction to her words.

He seemed unbothered, which really didn't surprise her. "I'm sorry." Now that surprised her. Setting the box of noodles down, she turned her full attention to Frank. "Why are you apologizing to me? I'm not the one you should apologize to." She pointed out, but Frank didn't seem bothered, as he casually scratched at the scruff on his face. "Frank why are you here?" She asked now standing across from him at the counter, looking into his eyes which once swirled with so much life. "I don't know... I'm not exactly sure what to do now." He admitted.

"Jake would tell you to turn yourself in." (Y/n) mused with a small smile, her words making him chuckle softly under his breath, a sound she had missed more than she ever realized until now. "That's why I came to you." He admitted, now leaning against the counter. "I knew you wouldn't arrest me on the spot like Jake, and I could just talk to you." Frank admitted with a small smile, though it didn't reach his eyes.

"Well that's where me and Jake are different, I actually believe you're doing the world good by killing those guys. People like that have to much money and power for us to touch, and we could use a vigilante to even out the odds." She hummed as she grabbed a beer from the fridge, sliding it across the counter to Frank, who took it with a small mutter of thanks. "I knew you'd feel that way." He said before sipping his beer. "Then why didn't you come to me sooner?" She asked as she leaned again the counter.

"Because I don't want you trying to join me." He stated matter-of-factly, making (Y/n) chuckle softly. "That's fair I guess, but what's changed? Why come to me now?" She pried, hoping he would open up to her. "I had a dream about you last night." His words stuck a cord in (Y/n)'s heart, one she didn't realize was still there until now. "A dream?" She played off her nerves like a natural, making her glad she was trained to hide her true emotions, in order to effectively interrogate suspects.

"It started as a nightmare, I was reliving their deaths." She knew he was referring to his family, so she didn't pry for clarification, knowing it only hurt him to talk about them. "But before I could wake up, you appeared from the shadows. You didn't say anything, you just..." He trailed off as he stared at his beer. "You just pulled me into a hug, and held me while I cried for them." (Y/n)'s heart broke at his admittance, she knew he hated showing vulnerably before he lost his family, let alone now that he's The Punisher.

"It made me realize how much I've missed you, and I also realized I can't keep doing this alone, I can't keep being alone." He looked up to her, his eyes ever so glossy. "I know Julie would want me to move on, to come to terms with what happened. But I couldn't do that while the Franco's were still alive and free." He sipped his beer. "But now... Now I need help getting through this, and you're the only one that can help me (Y/n)." Frank wanted to hold her hand as he spoke, but he resisted the urge.

"I'll always be here for you Frank." She assured him, her words pulling a genuine smile from him. "How about I make us some dinner, and we can figure out where to go from there." She offered, smiling when he nodded in agreement. "You should stay here tonight, get a shower and have some normalcy for a change." She added. "Are you trying to say I smell bad?" He asked with a playful smirk.

"Frank dear I've been holding my breath this entire time." (Y/n) joked, making him roll his eyes, despite his smile. "Still a smartass I see." He huffed. "You wouldn't have it any other way." She sassed before pointing to the hallway. "You still remember where the guestroom is." She added, smiling when he nodded and walked off to take a shower while she cooked dinner.

"Well what are you planning on doing now that you've dealt with the Franco family?" (Y/n) asked before she finished off the last bite of her dinner. "There are still people who are not punished by the justice system." Frank stated having finished his dinner long before she had. "Are you planning on doing to them what you did to the Franco's?" She asked. "Only to those who deserve it." Frank clarified, setting (Y/n)'s mind at ease.

"I'm glad you've come to me Frank, but I'm unbelievably exhausted, and I need to get some sleep." She rose from her seat, picking up her plate, and moving to grab his. Frank took her plate, and grabbed his own. "I'll deal with the dishes, go to bed, we can talk more in the morning." He insisted. "Okay thank you." She leaned over and pecked his temple like she used to as a quick thanks. "Oh and I forgot to ask, you didn't break any windows to get in did you?" She asked.

"No don't worry, I just picked the lock on the back door." He shrugged casually. "You still have that spare key I gave you don't you?" She arched a brow at him, and his faint smile gave him away. "Goodnight Frank." She called as she walked away into the hall. "Goodnight (Y/n)." He called back to her. When (Y/n) reached her bedroom, she began shedding off her clothes, in desperate need of a warm shower before going to bed.

As the water washed over her sore muscles, (Y/n)'s mind drifted to Frank. She'd been so torn up when he was declared dead, and mourned for him and his family for many months. They were a big part of her life, they were family to her. Even though deep down (Y/n) had loved Frank in a deeper more heart wrenching way. She knew it wasn't right, she knew that then, and even now she feels guilty for it.

She never acted on it, and never intended on trying to take him as her own. He was happy and he deserved the love he already had with Julie. Now things are different, but it still doesn't feel right, even if it's been over a year since she passed. He clearly still loved her, and (Y/n) wasn't going to make a fool of herself, and potentially push him away and loose him again. Still she couldn't deny the way her heart fluttered at the sight of him again, so much more gruff and rugged.

And knowing that he trusted her enough to come to her made her head spin. By the time she finished her shower, her eyes grew heavy with sleep. Her mind was still stuck on Frank, even as she crawled between the sheets. She wondered idly if he would still be here in the morning, or if he'd ever come back when he did leave. As she began drifting to sleep, she heard the sound of the guestroom door opening and closing. Telling her he was still here, and most likely would still be come morning.

(Y/n)'s sleep was dreamless and peaceful, which was better than she'd had in weeks. While Frank's dreams were chaotic and filled with memories that still hurt him oh so deeply. He dreamt of his children, of his wife, of the look of betrayal and hurt on Jakes face. Then he dreamt of (Y/n), and her never ending acceptance of the choices he's made. He felt at ease while he dreamt of her, his tense muscles relaxing as he dreamt of walking with her beside a lake.

She always had a way of putting him at ease, just by simply being there and listening to him vent whenever he needed it. He knew she meant more to him than just a friend, but he much like her, had never intended on exploring those feelings. But now after everything, despite knowing he's putting her in danger by coming around, Frank knows he needs her. He needs her help more than ever, and he knows deep down that Julie would understand.

When morning came Frank woke up to the smell of breakfast. Something he's missed more than he realized until now. In a bit of a groggy daze Frank wondered into the kitchen, dressed in the sleep clothes he found in the closet in the guestroom. "Mornin' bud." (Y/n) mused as she pushed a fresh cup of coffee his way. "Morning." He muttered as he slipped at the hot brew, slightly surprised she remembered how he likes his coffee.

"You want some breakfast?" She asked as she pulled two plates from the cupboard. "Please." He nodded his head in agreement. "Good because I made plenty." She mused with a smile, as she placed a plate in front of him. "I'm glad you're still here and you didn't slip away in the night." She added sincerely. "I half expected that last night would be the last time I'd ever see you." Her words cut him deeper than he would have expected, but he understood where she was coming from.

"Like I said, I need your help." Frank said earnestly. "Well then, what's the plan?" She asked as she sat beside him with her own plate. "I don't really have a plan, but for now I think we'll just take it one day at a time, and figure it all out." He shrugged. "Wow the Frank Castle doesn't have a plan, that's a first." (Y/n) joked, making him chuckle. "So are you planning on staying here?" She asked a few moments later. "No I don't want to put you at risk of being caught hiding a fugitive." He shook his head.

"I appreciate that." She hummed softly, having worried a bit about that last night. "I think it'll be best if I just come in the evenings when I need... Well a shoulder to lean on I guess." He said, picking at his food a little. "And when you need patched up I imagine." She added, trying to lighten the mood a bit, and Frank agreed with a small chuckle. "Yeah I'm sure I probably will come to you when I need patched up." He smiled at her before going back to eating his breakfast. "I'll be sure to stock up on some supplies." (Y/n) mused more to herself, than to Frank.

(Y/n)'s pager went off with a shrill beeping, signaling that it was time to get to work. Her partner letting her know they already had a new case to work on. "Well that's my queue, I've gotta get going. I'll see you later Frank, don't worry about the dishes, I'll deal with that when I get home." (Y/n) moved back into the kitchen, placing her half empty plate into the sink for now. "Hey (Y/n)." Frank called to her before she could rush off. "Yeah?" She asked, turning her attention to him. "Thank you, for everything." He stood from his seat, and crossed the room, pulling her into a hug. "You're welcome Frank." She hummed as she hugged him back, feeling as though she's already made a difference in his chaotic life.

Buy me a coffee sometime? ☕️

(Click the coffee for my Kofi link, IT'S NOT NECESSARY BTW.)

I honestly couldn't think of a better way of ending this one, but I hope it was satisfactory either way. I'm a little rusty, as I haven't consistently written in ages, so I apologize if it didn't turn out as good as you hoped. (゜-゜)

[just-j-really]

Unsoulmates part four (a new hope)

Masterpost

Hob texts Morpheus two days after he and Audrey break up, because he's got two tickets to a ballet and absolutely no use for them anymore. He'd offered them to Gwen, first, but her girlfriend (her soulmate, actually, her soulmate she'd met at a Ren Faire in a moment out of a fairytale, complete with a kiss-print soulmark on the back of her hand) has even less interest in ballet than Hob does. And he knows bringing it up to any of his other friends will only get him concerned questions about why he keeps doing this to himself, wouldn't he be happier if he stopped actively avoiding his One True Love.

So offering them to Morpheus, who hasn't spoken to him in a month but probably won't do that, is the best option by default.

Shockingly, Morpheus replies. He even offers to meet Hob at the White Horse, a pub they'd frequented back when they were still sort of talking, to pick up the tickets.

Even more shockingly, Morpheus is already at a table when Hob arrives at the pub four nights later, like he's planning to sit and talk with Hob. Like before.

Hob is not entirely sure how he feels about that, but he's also running on maybe three hours of sleep, and the chair next to Morpheus looks extremely inviting, so he lets himself topple into it.

"If you ask me how I'm doing I'm going to get up and leave," he warns Morpheus, leaning back against the headrest and closing his eyes. He might just take a nap here. It's been impossible to fall asleep, these past few days, without the warmth of someone else in bed with him. And it's so easy, lying there with the tangible reminder of how alone he is, to let his thoughts spiral into why didn't she stay why didn't she even consider it wasn't it worth it?

But here, with the warmth and the noise of people around him and this unbelievably comfortable armchair, an uneasy half-doze starts to overtake him. He's drifting, wondering where in the world Morpheus found an armchair, when a soft tapping noise drags him back to reality.

When he opens his eyes, Morpheus is sliding a beer across the table to him. He doesn't say anything, just looks at Hob levelly, and Hob thinks that's why, why he opens his mouth to say thanks, what comes out instead is a cracking, "Do you know what it's like, having people congratulate you for having your heart ripped out?"

His voice sounds even worse than he feels.

Morpheus inclines his head at Hob in that familiar little nod; go on, I'm listening.

It's a small kindness, but it still makes Hob feel like his chest is cracking in half.

"Everyone acts like it's fine. Like it's a good thing. 'Yeah it hurts now but at least you'll stop wasting your life, at least now you'll find the person you were meant for.'"

He takes a breath. Takes a drink. "Nevermind that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her."

And then the whole story is spilling out of him, in an out-of-order slurry: the moment it happened- Audrey gesturing wildly as they ducked through the concert crowd, hand in hand; her stunned little gasp as her arm bumped another emphatic gesture-er; they way he'd stood there, confused, still holding Audrey's hand, while she and her soulmate stared longingly into each other's eyes.

The way she'd yes-anded even his stupidest bits, the way they'd had their own shared language of in-jokes, the way conversations with her were a dance and she always knew the next step.

The way, within a week, she'd scrubbed herself out of his life entirely, like she needed to fake her death to start her new life with The One.

"And- and I knew marriage wasn't happening, right?" he finds himself saying, some time and several drinks later. "Fuckin nobody marries their not-soulmate, which is STUPID. It's so stupid, remind me to tell you how stupid it is. But I thought. I thought we- I thought there was something. Something good. I thought maybe we could last."

The sentence gets much too wobbly at the end, and Hob swipes a hand roughly over his eyes.

"What did you want, then?" Morpheus asks.

Hob glares at him.

"If not marriage," Morpheus says, as though clarity were the problem there. He seems... sincere, though. Like he's actually asking the question, not trying to nudge Hob into an epiphany about the futility of his life goals. Hob's heard the second thing enough to know what it sounds like. And Morpheus has that- look, on his face. The Hob-is-an-insect look, but not. It's... it's like if that look were kinder, more genuine. More vulnerable.

So for what may be the first time, when asked that question, Hob actually considers his answer before responding. "I dunno what I wanted," he says. "I just want- I want someone to choose me. Not have me forced on them."

Morpheus stares at him. Studies him. As though the secret of life itself has somehow been hidden in Hob's face.

Hob stares back, pinned. Entranced. A little confused.

"You know," he says, after a moment, "I'm not actually a bug."

Morpheus sighs. "Come on," he says, "Let's get you home."

Despite Hob's insistence that he is fine, really, just a little tipsy and a lot heartsick and sleep deprived, Morpheus does walk him home.

Hob only remembers the tickets when they reach his building, and only then someone had stuck a sticker of a dancer to the back of a lamppost. "Here," he says, rooting around in his jacket pocket until he finds the envelope, and handing it over, "At least someone will get use out of them."

Morpheus stares at the envelope like he's never seen one before.

When he looks up at Hob, his eyes are glistening with tears. "Are you," he asks, quietly. He pauses for a long time, long enough that Hob starts to wonder if he'd handed over the wrong envelope, and then wonder what deeply tragic envelopes he could possibly have been carrying around.

"Are you going to look for your soulmate now?" Morpheus asks. His voice is as even, almost soothing, as ever.

He's looking at Hob as though the wrong answer will be his death sentence.

"Are you kidding me?" Hob asks. Despite everything, he finds himself grinning. "Never. The love of my life is out there, somewhere, I'm not going to discount them for something stupid like soulmates."

Morpheus smiles.

Truly smiles, for the first time that Hob has seen. It's a lovely expression, soft, hesitant, but so genuinely, contagiously delighted. And Hob knows, with the same bone-deep certainty as his disbelief in soulmates, that he'd protect that smile at all costs.

"Also," he says, because there's not much protection he can offer right not but there is always the shining, thrilling possibility of coaxing another smile out of Morpheus tonight, "I'm starving. Do you want to get dinner?"

[jerseyshoresy]

I froth at the mouth over your fics!!!!!

May I please request something where some drunk asshole confronts the reader at MoDeans and hits the reader, then all of the LK crew starts coming over but reader just decks the cunt and lays him out. Wayne already guessing you'd be fine but everyone starts fussing asking questions and shit bur you're cool as a cucumber?

Okay so I'm OBSESSED with this idea of this because uh yeah anything with the LK crew at MoDean's is sure to be fun to write lol. And thank you SO much for your kind words, you're so sweet! I'm glad you like my writing and I'm honored you all trust me to bring your creative vision to life :) much love!! <3 <3

OH! ALSO! This isn't explicitly romantic because I wasn't sure if you were looking for more friendship or romance so it's implied Wayne x reader but it can be read either way tbh. Enjoy!

All Hands on Deck

Implied Wayne x gn!reader

Warnings: cussing, fighting, mention of blood, Gail being... Gail

Done was another long day of chore'n so you decided to hang out at MoDean's with your best friends, relieved to finally relax in good company. You greeted the group, all of whom already had drinks, and so you ordered yourself one, too, taking a seat at the bar next to Wayne.

"Y/n, how're you now?" he asked, his expression softening ever so slightly when you sat near him.

"Good, and you?"

"Not s' bad."

You smiled. "Glad to hear it."

Everyone was listening intently to Squirrely Dan, who was in the middle of a story about some guy and an ostrich--you weren't all too interested in the details-- so you took the time to peek around the bar, seeing who else from Letterkenny had shown up for the night. The regulars were there, naturally, as were some people you knew from high school. You even spied Jonesy and Reilly who had stopped flirting with women to flirt with each other. You shook your head, enjoying the stereotypical evening with the same people who were always around. Turning your head a little more to the left, though, and you almost choked on your drink. There was some guy you had never seen before, sitting at a table and downing beers like nobody's business.

"Who's that?" you asked Gail when she brought over your drink.

"Dunno," she replied, leaning in closer to you, "but he's from out of town. Heard he's from the city. Montreal."

"Really? Their downtown is pretty nice from what I've heard."

"I'd be happy to show him what a real nice downtown looks like," Gail groaned, gyrating her hips in a way that felt so dirty you had the urge to clean the countertop she was gripping seductively.

"Don't you have customers to serve?" you asked, earning a glare from the bartender.

"Don't you have a tab to pay?"

"Fair enough," you grumbled, taking a sip of your drink. You looked at the man one last time before turning back around in your seat. You were surprised someone from the big city would come all that way to be in Letterkenny, but it didn't matter to you. The guy was spending big money in alcohol consumption and singlehandedly keeping MoDean's in business for the next month, which was great for Gail and even better for you. You tuned into the conversation with your friends, wondering what the next topic at hand was.

"...and that's how I got cow spit in my eye," finished Daryl, earning looks of disgust amongst the group.

"How about you, y/n? How was your day?" inquired Katy.

"It was alright, nothing too interesting," you said. "The most exciting thing to happen to me was hearing some guy's here from Montreal."

Right as you said that, you accidentally made eye contact with the man from Quebec. You quickly averted your gaze, not wanting any trouble.

"So yeah, that's been my day. I'll be right back, I gotta go to the bathroom."

After you did your business, hands washed and dried, you starting making your way back over to your seat. All of a sudden, the screech of a chair being pulled out from under a table caught your attention and in no time, you were face to face with the stranger from the city.

"You got a staring problem?" he snarled, very obviously intoxicated with the way he was slurring his words. "You've been lookin' at me all night and I don' like it."

You went to reply angrily but you couldn't get any words out--the only thing in your mouth at that moment was a a drunk dude's fist. You staggered from the momentum of the swing, your face bleeding profusely, and your mind reeling from the audacity of this city dweller. You heard the chorused yells of the Letterkenny residents, all equally unhappy that the out of towner hurt one of their own. You knew your friends would be over any second to take care of the guy, you could see them running from your peripheral vision, but you wanted a piece of him first. Fueled by anger, you threw a power packed punch right back to the man. In an instant he was knocked out, his unsteady body crumpling to the floor.

"Holy shit, y/n, are you okay?" Katy asked, putting a hand on your back in a soothing manner. Daryl held a clean rag to your nose and mouth to stop the bleeding while Dan pulled out a chair and had you sit in it. You even saw some of the regulars take the man's unconscious body and throw it out behind the dumpster. Throughout the aftermath of the ordeal, though, you realized you never saw Wayne.

"Are you sures you're okays, y/n?" Squirrely Dan questioned.

You laughed. "I appreciate everyone's concern, but there's no reason to fuss. It was just one punch, I'll be fine. You guys go sit, enjoy your drinks. I'll be over in a minute."

They relented, taking in your condition one last time with worried looks before taking up their spots at the bar.

And now here came Wayne.

He stalked up to you, taking a swig of Puppers.

"Fuck, bud, you didn't even give him a chance." Another sip of beer. "I almost feel bad for the guy."

"Yeah," you sighed, "me too."

You enjoyed comfortable silence together for about a minute or so before Wayne spoke up again.

"You know, I didn't rush to your side because I knew you were okay. You're tough."

"I know." You met his eyes, the dingy lights of MoDean's doing nothing to dim their shining deep blue color. "Thanks."

Wayne was a man of little words, and you didn't feel like there were more words to be uttered anyway, but his look said it all. You spied the smallest hint of a smile on his lips as his head turned to the rest of your friends at the bar, already back to smiling and having a good time.

"Yeah," you answered, his question not needing to be asked out loud, "let's go have some fun."

[flownwrong]

something like this (due south fic)

F/K + F/K/V, rated T; ~1000 words

Summary: Ten ways Ray Kowalski's day can go.

A/N: For @thegoodthebadandtheart's birthday. Hap birth, friend! You're the real one <3

read on ao3

1. Back before The Great Frasering, my days went something like this: groan my way out of bed, try not to slip in the shower with my eyes not quite opening the whole way, inhale the coffee smell from the coffee mug, inhale the coffee from the coffee mug, Turtle feeding time, pants, shirt, holster, car, work—repeat in reverse, swapping coffee for beer and shower for a jerk-off-and-feel-sorry-for-myself session. Sprinkle in some evenings out with the guys—good collars, or someone's birthday, or impending fatherhood, or retirement—with bar games and shooting the shit, out of which I'm mostly good at that last one.

Work went something like this: come in, argue with anyone who's looking for an argument, try to make sure that doesn't include the witnesses or the Lieu, talk to people, shout at people, slap cuffs on people. On a good day, help people. Or at least try. Sprinkle in staying late in the attempts to keep all the papers in check, which wasn't as hard as you'd think considering back home it was mostly the TV and the Turtle waiting.

2. Then there was one day when work went something like this: Lieu calls me in, says, here's a doozy, wham, bam, I'm outta there, outta my own skin, outta my depth.

3. During The Great Frasering, my days went something like this: get to the station, hang out with Fraser, take a fat pill's worth of trippy shit, argue with Fraser, work with Fraser, hang out with Fraser, get slobbered on by wolf, go to bed, sleep the sleep of the dead—not necessarily in that order. Same on weekends, only without work. Well, not every time. Sprinkle in some letting Stella go, some letting Fraser in, some times my heart would feel so huge with needing him I was sure that was all she wrote.

4. Then there was one day that went something like this: Fraser catches a weirdass fish, gets on the trail of the killer of his mother, wham, bam, I'm outta Vecchio's skin, outta a plane, outta a partner. I'm lucky Fraser didn't get the memo.

5. The adventure went something like this: learn so much new stuff my brain felt three sizes too big for my skull, get why Fraser can't shut up about this place, spend so much time looking up at the sky one night I got a crick in my neck and felt dizzy, kiss Fraser, some more dizzy, try to figure out whether I said I loved him out loud only for him to say it first. Not find any hands, reaching out or otherwise, except for Fraser's hand down my pants, which, I'll be honest, I'll take over Franklin's any day of the week.

6. Then there was one day that went something like this: pack up my shit and go back to Chicago, listen to Fraser snuffle in his sleep on the plane, thank whoever's in charge about two hundred and eighteen times. Come home, curl up together in bed in the puzzle pieces way we worked out, only this time it's my bed, and technically it's the next day, but it's not like I stay up to check the clock.

7. After, it was The Great Frasering 2, bigger and better and like nothing I ever hoped for, until—

8. —the day that went something like this: Fraser sneaks off after lunch, which is nothing that pings my radar because he's his own guy, but then he comes home late and miserable and tells me Vecchio's back in town, which, yeah, maybe isn't something I was gonna do a victory lap about, but he looks way worse than I feel, which is ten different kinds of wrong, and then he says he owes me a bare minimum of honesty about his desires, with this face that gives me the idea he maybe isn't talking about me decked out in latex swinging a whip at him kind of desires, which scares the brains out of me because when it comes to the big feely things Fraser hardly ever talks, and I don't know if I will sock him one or curl up on the floor and sob until he tells me and it's so queer I end up laughing.

9. The days after that went something like—like something I don't even—but the important part is Fraser stays right where I want him, where I will always want him, and it turns out that's not the only thing I can want.

10. So, today went something like this: wake up late to an empty bed, inhale the coffee—the good stuff I never ask for but get nonetheless, have a bad hair day, go to work pissed off, piss Fraser off, piss the perp off, watch Fraser piss the perp off, take one in the jaw, give as good as I got, slap cuffs on the perp, sit through his song and dance, finally get rid of him. Endure the party, blow the party early, drive Fraser home. Open the door to Vecchio cooking, see him see me and swear, get the third bag of peas today slapped onto my face, get a beer and watch him chew Fraser out, better than TV. Eat half the whatever Vecchio's cooking right from the pan, listen to Fraser chew me out for bad behavior when all he really cares about is that there's less left for him. Make out with Fraser, pause for dinner, make out with Vecchio, try to stop the wolf from making out with me because I still smell like the good sauce, watch Vecchio make out with Fraser. Say wait, wait, what about the cake, hear Vecchio say what cake, say the one you made, hear the eyeroll as he says if you wanted one, should've made it yourself, say fuck you and get only today, Kowalski. Get herded off into the bedroom by Fraser, get horizontal, get—well, use your imagination.

So maybe this isn't exactly how I envisioned forty, but hey, my definition of a good day? Probably something like this.

[peqchsoup]

Pumpkin | dbf!Joel Miller x Reader headcanons

a/n: I haven't written anything in a hot minute and I really want to write a chaptered fic but I don't wanna pressure myself so I'm starting with headcanons and then building up from there

This is set in a 'no outbreak' setting because life's better when you pretend things never happened :)

This is a sfw version, but I'll probs do a nsfw version too!

Pet names - Joel has always called his daughter Sarah "babygirl", so it goes unnoticed by your parents when Joel begins to call you Pumpkin and Sweetpea. He tags it onto the end of his sentences, whether he's getting you something or asking you a favour, he's always got an endearing term to add on the end.

Joel's lying under his truck with his toolbox sitting open beside his knee. You're sitting on a cushion next to him, radio playing quietly and a can of soda in your hand. Suddenly you see his hand appear from under the car, "could you pass me the wrench, princess." You blush and pluck the wrench from his toolbox, making sure your hand grazes his when you place it in his palm, "thanks, Pumpkin."

Movie night - Every Friday night, Sarah stays at a friends house for a movie night and sleepover. So, you and Joel made Friday night your own movie night too. You would slip over the road from your house, avoiding your parents' house (which was situated next door to Joel's) as much as possible. Joel always supplied the beers from his beer fridge in the kitchen, but you took turns in supplying the popcorn and choosing the movie. On the weeks you brought the popcorn, Joel would often pick a cheesy Spaghetti Western that you would talk over. On the weeks he supplied the popcorn, you made him watch romcoms, even though you knew he wasn't watching them. What you didn't know was that he wasn't watching them because he couldn't take his eyes off of you; especially the smile on your face when the characters finally got together.

Your eyes lit up when Natalie and the Prime Minister kissed on your third watch of Love Actually in 6 months. Joel smiled softly and thought about all of the times he kissed you. He needed to kiss you more. He needed to show you just how far he was falling in love with you. His heart ached in his chest when you turned his way, eyes tearing up at the on-screen kiss, and lay your head on his chest so you could cuddle up to him.

Music - When the house across the street from your parents' and Joel's houses went up for sale, you were quick to get a deposit down, thanking yourself for all of the saving you did while you were in college and then living with your parents for the last couple of years. Joel knew you worked from home on Wednesdays so he would make sure he didn't work those days in order to come over and sit on the sofa in your home office, plucking away at his guitar and serenading you while you were trying to write reports.

Joel let himself in through the French Doors of your home office. You were typing furiously, a long email showing on your screen, so he placed your breakfast bagel on the desk and planted a kiss on your head. You smiled to acknowledge his presence, and he took that as his cue to manouver to your sofa. He pulled out his guitar and started playing "Here Comes The Sun". It was the first thing he played every week, without fail. When you asked him why one day, he replied with "it's the first thing that came to my mind the day I fell in love with you."

[rayshippouuchiha]

Concept, Skull gets hella drunk one night, and the others are doing general drinking games/teasing type of stuff. They decide to crack on Skull cause he's the youngest and so he's probably not got much experience. Cue Skull whipping out an unnecessarily erotic comparison between what he's like as a sex partner and his abilities with a motorcycle.

Reborn refuses to let Skull get on a motorcycle around him ever again, he can't embarrass himself with his thirst like that in front of others.

So I, of course, had to tweak it just a bit:

The thing is, Skull's never been much of a drinker.

And, despite what Reborn and Colonnello like to say, it's not because he's a lightweight.

No, it's always been the opposite problem with Skull.

It takes a staggering amount of dangerously high-proof alcohol to get him actually drunk.

So much so that Skull had only ever been actually and fully drunk once in his life. He'd never bothered again because, well, most bars wouldn't serve that amount of alcohol to a single person and, most importantly of all, it was an outrageously expensive ordeal.

He'd always had better things to spend whatever money he might have on than trying to get wasted.

Skull's long suspected some kind of Flame fuckery at work but hasn't bothered to really look into it.

Still, whenever drinking had come up with the Arcobaleno before the curse Skull either hadn't bothered to drink at all or had gone for the kind of fruit-filled or extravagant cocktail that always got him a lot of ribbing.

Because if he wasn't going to be able to get drunk but they weren't going to let him leave, then he should at least be able to drink something interesting that doesn't taste like actual paint thinner.

But now? After a handful of decades in the Mafia and with all of the money he's actually managed to accumulate plus an entire case of the specially formulated liquor Verde had cooked up?

Now Skull is well and truly on his way to being wasted.

Which is the perfect time for Skull to remember that, unlike what most would probably think, he's not the loud and overly obnoxious or casually violent type of drunk.

No, that's Colonnello and Fon in order.

Instead, Drunk Skull tends to be way more honest and mouthy than Sober Skull.

"Boo," Colonnello tosses a handful of pretzels in Skull's direction even as he folds yet another hand of cards to Reborn. "You suck Skull, thought you'd be more interesting than this when we finally got you wasted. Come on, be entertaining."

Skull's not sure why anyone's willing to play poker, even Mafia Poker, with Reborn when the fucker so obviously counts cards no matter how many decks are used.

"Save the pigtail pulling for Lal, okay Nello?" Skull finds himself saying, eyes on his own game of Mafia Solitaire and one hand playing with his glittery purple crazy straw. His tall glass of violently green alcohol is a little less than half full and Skull is feeling more than a bit loose. "I'm not gonna fuck you no matter how drunk I get, you're not really my type."

"Hey!" Colonnello squawks, the beer bottle in his hand suddenly hurtling in Skull's direction. "My heart and body belong to Lal alone, asshole."

Skull catches the bottle and then casually tosses it toward the recycling bin that's just visible in the kitchen from where he's sitting. It goes in of course, Skull hadn't filled in for the knife-throwing act as a teenager more than once without learning how to aim his projectiles.

"I've seen your dick, Nello," Skull can't help but tease as he lays down an Ace Of Knives, "that's not as much of a flex as you think it is. Be happy to give you some tips though if you're ready to stop disappointing Lal."

Colonnello looks appropriately scandalized, Reborn's sporting that little smirk of his that's basically a laugh, and beside Colonnello Lal Mirch just snorts into her whiskey tumbler, obviously amused.

Which is both true and false. Skull's absolutely seen Colonnello's dick enough to last him a lifetime but he's not actually as tragic as Skull's making him out to be. Not that Skull will ever admit that.

If there's one thing he's good at after all it's committing to The Bit.

"Brave talk from the group baby," Colonnello cuts back. "Bet you've never even touched a woman, and no your mom doesn't count."

There's a round of immature snickers around the table that Skull honestly can't find fault in since even Verde, Viper, and Fon had joined in.

But, for once, Skull is nowhere near ready to back down.

"Well if my mom doesn't count, then your mom probably doesn't either huh?" Skull bats his lashes at Colonello. "If so then you should probably tell her to stop calling me."

He gets a fist full of peanuts thrown at him this time.

"You know, Skull," Reborn practically slinks his way into the conversation, voice sly, "if you're interested in getting some actual experience I'm sure I know a few ways to help you out."

And as is so often the case with Reborn, Skull's not sure if that's an offer or a threat.

Probably both if he's being honest.

Either way it's also a taunt Skull just can't let stand like he normally would.

"Yelena and Drago Marckovich," Skull lets his tongue wrap around the names.

"Oh?" Reborn's attention is, as always, like being put underneath a combination spotlight/microscope. "And who, pray tell, are they?"

Skull leans back in his chair, aware of how he's somehow gathered everyone in the room's attention.

Which, to be fair, is what he does best.

"They were fraternal twins whose parents ran our high wire act," Skull tells them all. "Drago was one of the group's apprentice mechanics and Yelena was a contortionist."

Skull takes a sip of his drink.

"They were eighteen, gorgeous, and never did anything apart. They're the ones who helped me put my first bike together from the ground up too." Skull can't help the happy little sigh he huffs out. Those really had been an excellent six months. "Couldn't have picked a better pair to lose my virginity to. Taught me how to do all kinds of tricks, both on and off the bike."

There's a moment's silence.

"Bullshit," Colonnello barks out, one hand slapping down onto the tabletop. "No way in hell you bagged twins."

"Absolutely not," Skull agrees readily only to cut Colonnello's smug look off at the knees. "I was sixteen and had no idea what I was doing. They bagged me. Wasn't like I was going to say no."

Across the table, Lal actually hoots with laughter.

"They taught me the foundation for everything I know," Skull keeps going. "Yelena? Now she was all about taking those curves and corners you know? Girl could get in and out of the tightest spaces, taught me how to do the same."

Lal is outright giggling now and Colonnello's all flush faced with his mouth hanging open.

"And Drago?" Skull pauses, flicks his tongue out to play with his lip ring. Cuts his eyes just a bit in Reborn's direction. "Well let's just say he really lived up to his name. He helped me with my stamina. Helped me learn how to really ride."

The twins had been kind and fun and when their arrangement had run its course they'd parted as friends which is something Skull will always be thankful for.

"Of course," Skull waves his straw carelessly through the air around him, "when I left to strike out on my own I had to refine my technique on my own, develop my own skills and tricks, that kind of thing. Luckily there was never a shortage of eager and willing volunteers to work with. I learn better by doing and I've always been good with my hands anyways so it was fun, finding new bodies to work with and figuring out all the ways to lay each one of them out and make them purr."

Skull tosses back the rest of his drink and pushes himself up onto his feet.

"I grew up in the circus and had my own traveling stunt show by 19," Skull tells them all, more than a bit amused by the turn the evening had taken. "I've fucked my way across six continents, various oceans, and a wide variety of islands."

Skull shoves his hands into the pockets of his low-hanging sweatpants and ambles towards the veranda door.

The cool grass, wide open sky, and quiet of the garden out back are practically calling his name by this point.

There's a moment's silence and then he hears a chair scrape across the floor loudly behind him.

Skull keeps walking, doesn't bother to look back.

The fedora that drops down on top of his head isn't as much of a surprise to Skull as it might have been five or so bottles ago.

"I could stand to hear a bit more about your ,,, unexpected expertise," Reborn practically purrs from Skull's side, one large, warm hand splaying itself possessively across the small of Skull's back.

"Jealous?" Skull can't help but snip back.

"Oh no," Reborn's grin is more than a bit dark and his eyes are a hawkish sort of golden. "Jealousy implies a lack of skill. And trust me, bellissimo, that's one thing you'll never have to worry about with me."

[familyvideostevie]

HAPPY ONE YEAR!!! For your celebration, what about a 🐚 Seashell Blurb for Steve Harrington with the line: "It's been a long year and all of our book's pages are dog-eared," from "Everywhere, Everything" by Noah Kahan!

hi!!! you've been here for so long, so thank you so much!!!! i love this song <3 great pick! here's you and steve reflecting on a year of knowing each other :) friends to lovers hehe <3

--

You're not sure he even realizes what day it is. Steve always has a lot on his mind and while he's kind and a good friend and takes care of people he isn't always great with details. Sure, he remembers birthdays and that Dustin hates tomatoes and Robin's favorite color, but why would he remember the day that you two met?

You're just friends. Still, after a year.

But you, for reasons you only dwell on late at night alone in your bedroom, know the date of when you first met -- when you spilled beer all over him at someone's summer party. You went home that night with butterflies that never went away.

"You're going to go cross-eyed if you think any harder," Steve says. You snap out of your thoughts to find him staring at you across the table. He'd called you tonight and asked if you were free to go to the diner. It's practically empty and you share a big order of fries and sip on shakes.

"Sorry," you say. He gently kicks you under the table and looks a little shy.

That's something you've learned in the last year: Steve Harrington can get shy. He gets nervous when he wants to say something serious and cracks his knuckles but doesn't find speaking to crowds scary. He gets annoyed easily but forgives even easier. He snores in the spring when he has allergies and sleeps hot in the winter even when it's freezing outside.

You've learned a lot about him, but he still manages to surprise you. Like right now -- you can tell he's nervous but you cannot imagine why.

"I hope I didn't drag you away from important plans tonight," he says. He looks at his hands, brow furrowed, which is unusual. When Steve talks to you he always looks at you head on.

"No," you say. "I didn't have anything to do, I told you so." You'd actually debated all day whether or not to call him and just hang out, even if he didn't know today was special.

"Shit," he mumbles. He runs a hand through this hair and the other down his face. He's really nervous.

"Are you okay?" you ask, concerned now. Did he bring you here to tell you...bad news?

Your concern seems to bring him out of his own worry. He takes a deep breath and looks at you, finally, steely determination in his eyes. "I'm going to do something and I'm scared it's going to fuck everything up," he starts. "So I need you to promise me that you'll hear me out and then...be nice after. Okay?"

No words come. You nod. What?

Steve grips his shake with both hands like he's trying not to reach for something. "We met a year ago today, did you know that?"

Your heart rises to your throat.

"I wasn't sure you'd remember, which is fine. I mean, it was a stupid party and you spilled beer all over me, but it was just another night, yeah? But since then you've just...you've taken over." You curl your hands into fists on your thighs. "You're my best friend. You know me so well and every time something happens and you're not there I want to tell you about it. I hear your voice in my head and when I see you it feels like...like a relief, if that makes sense?"

He looks frustrated that he can't articulate it the way he wants to but you're having a hard time not leaping over the table to hug him. "And sometimes over the last year I feel like...there are times that it's like..." He sighs. "It just feels like maybe you're feeling something more and I don't know if I'm reading it wrong because I'm feeling something more but..."

You close your eyes because the eye contact is getting too much, but you can't help the smile that creeps onto your lips. Steve must take it for a good sign because he keeps going, sounding more hopeful.

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm in love with you. I might have been since the day we met."

"A year ago," you say, opening your eyes. "I remember." You're not sure who reaches first but then you're holding hands on the table, fries pushed to the side. "I can't believe I thought you didn't know it was today but actually you're in love with me." Your voice sounds giddy to your own ears.

Steve smiles shyly, the tips of his ears turning red. "Well, yeah. 'Course I remember. Changed my life."

"I'm in love with you, too, Steve," you tell him. The shy smile turns wide, smug. It makes you brave. "You gonna kiss me, or make me wait another year?"

He almost knocks over your shakes in his rush to get to your side of the table.

join the celebration!

[sugar-soda]

Kids Shouldn't be Here: Piper Wright

Fallout 4 Platonic Companions x Child! Sole

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Child in dangerous situations

A/N: This is NOT romantic at all! This is all platonic relationships that explore how the Fallout 4 companions and game would change if the Sole Survivor was a young child. Any romantic suggestions or reblogs will be blocked.

Masterlist

______________________________________________________________

Diamond City wasn't always the perfect place to raise a kid.

Sure, there were a lot of pros to the place. Big sturdy wall to keep the rest of the Commonwealth out, plenty of food and shelter, and plenty of services that you couldn't get anywhere else, like haircuts and a year round doctor. Hell, they even had a school. So many in the Commonwealth couldn't even read and the children of Diamond City got to learn that along with science, math, and history. So yes, there were some good reasons to have a kid there. 

If anyone were to ask about this to the Mayor, he would puff up like a peacock and proudly state that “children were the Commonwealth's future,” and “it takes a city to raise a child,” and other nonsense like he was still campaigning for office. 

If you were to ask someone who was not the Mayor, they would tell you that the city was nice, but it still had problems.

For one thing, with 2 bars and a chems dealer right in the market, there were plenty of chances for any kid looking for mischief to swipe a Mentat or a bottle of beer when no one is looking. Dr. Sun had taken to meticulous combing through his inventory everyday to make sure he didn't become a target of little, sticky fingers as well.

While they didn't have to worry about their kid being killed, the concerns were replaced e with others that were almost pre-war in nature. After all, they couldn't attach their child to the hip like in small settlements, so the children were left to run amuck with no supervision between school letting out and their parents coming home. Between those times the adults would worry.

 Did their kid do their assigned reading? Would they eat their tatos for dinner later or would they insist on surviving off of sugar bombs and snack cakes? What if they fell and hurt themselves on the rusty, dirty metal that made up most of the city and get an infection? Were they leaving poor Sheffield in peace? Were the other kids playing nice?

Those ran through their minds until they could go home.

The suspension was also something everyone dealt with. The Institute had rooted itself into everyone's mind as the Commonwealth's boogeyman, and no one could sleep at night anymore. Anyone could be kidnapped and replaced by an identical synth, so anyone could be a threat. Trust was in short supply, so there would never be that sense of community other settlements had. Every man was for himself. But no good man could go without his children.

____________________________________________________________

If you were to ask Piper Wright, she would say she is great with kids. After all, she raised her sister Nat, and she's great in Piper's biased opinion. Nat was smart, sassy, and incredibly self-sufficient. Piper liked to think she made Dad proud with how she raised Nat.

As self-sufficient as her sister is, that doesn't mean Piper thought she could live entirely on her own. Which is exactly why Danny needed to stop screwing around and open the gate!

“Danny, I swear to God, if you don't open this gate and let me in you will be sorry. I’m standing out here in the open for God’s sake!”

“I got orders to not let you in, Ms. Piper. I’m sorry. I’m just doing my job. The mayor’s pretty steamed about your last article. Said it was nothing but lies”

Ah. Right. In hindsight, accusing McDonough of being a synth was probably going to get her in trouble. But not like this! She thought she'd get another lecture she wouldn't listen to or a fine she'd never pay.

She left the city this morning to interview a few guards on duty. The barracks nowadays were too small and the guards too many. So her next article was a push to expand their barracks up into the stands. The rich folk already living up there will complain about “ruffians” being in the stands, even if they would be on the opposite side of the city, so she had to get everyone else on the same page to get the expansion approved. Which she couldn't do if she couldn't go home!

“God damn it, Danny! You can't just lock me out! I live here!” Piper slammed her hand against the speaker.

As Danny told her to lie low for a few days and let the Mayor cool down, she caught the tiniest movement to her left.  She squinted against the harsh afternoon sun and saw a rather…odd group was making way toward the entrance. 

The most notable was the Mr. Handy, or Miss Nanny, she never could really tell the difference. While Diamond City had its own share of non-humanoid robots and she herself had gotten a few drinks from Whitechapel Charlie when visiting Goodneighbor for a story, all of them were in cities, places where there was supplies and space to do maintenance to keep them running smoothly. Seeing them out of the city normally meant to turn tail and run as it shot lasers and tried to make you into minced meat with its saw blade. This one, luckily, didn't seem like it was crazy. It floated gently alongside its companions, keeping its three eyes on a swivel.

The second was a man. Judging by his militia hat, he was a Minuteman. Huh. She thought they were all gone after Quincy. That tragedy had destroyed a lot of people's faith in the cause. Piper was the first in Diamond City to hear about it, having heard about it from Mayor Hancock himself while visiting Goodneighbor. She cried her way through a whole pack of cigarettes before typing up the article. Like hell she was gonna let McDonough tell the city first and try to spin all those deaths into some Diamond-City-Superiority propaganda bullshit.

He tried when he made a speech about two days after she made Nat hand deliver a copy to everyone in Diamond City. By then everyone knew what happened. It was the least she could do. 

Her eyes narrowed in suspension. If he was alive now, there was a high chance he was one of the ones who didn't respond when the emergency call happened. Coward. She would have to keep an eye on him.

The last person had her back to her, with a duffle bag slung across her shoulders and a pale purple ribbon holding any hairs that escaped her messy twin braids out of her face. A sharp looking sniper rifle accompanied the duffle bag. Looks like she was just a kid, judging by the height difference. Strange. She didn't share any physical traits with the Minuteman, so Piper wouldn't guess they were related. Unless they were distantly related, or the kid was adopted, or maybe they were related through marriage?

 The Minuteman stopped to talk to a guard, likely asking about the city. The girl shifted on her feet, obviously impatient to go. The duffle bag moved and revealed a tiny shoulder wrapped in blue and gold numbers across her back.

So the kid was a vault dweller then. That kinda made sense. She probably was sent out to do trading for supplies and the Minuteman was likely her guard and the Mr. Handy was probably from the vault too.

Piper wrinkles her nose in distaste. Why would they send someone so young? Someone older wouldn't get scammed to hell and back at least.

Piper hadn't realized she was staring until the kid started staring back. Those big eyes seemed to stare into her soul, full of curiosity and questions. Just what Piper needed. While Danny always tried to follow orders, he could be a bit of a soft touch for kids. She's seen him sneaking books he bought from traders into the school. His bleeding heart was her ticket in.

“Psst. Hey, kid.” Piper tried to keep her voice at a volume where the speaker wouldn't pick her up. The girl looked around to see who she was addressing before pointing at herself quizzically.

“Yes, you. Come here.”

The girl peaked over at her guard, who was still talking. At some point, the Mr. Handy had joined the conversation, leaving her in the clear. She silently shuffled over and leaned closer.

“You wanna get into Diamond City, right?” The Vault Dweller nodded quickly, large eyes still unblinking.  “Play along. I'll get us both in.” Piper leaned back toward the speaker, raising her voice exaggeratedly. “What's that, kid? You're here all on your own? What about your parents?” 

Luckily, the kid picked up on Piper's plan. “ Oh, my parents are…they're gone,” 

“ You hear that, Danny? You really going to leave a little kid out here, all alone, surrounded by raiders, and super mutants, and ferals and-”

“Okay, okay! Geez Piper, way to lay on the guilt trip. I'll open the gate up but McDonough better not be on my ass about this.”

A loud beep resounded out and Piper couldn't help but feel smug. That feeling didn’t last long as Mayor McDonough was already there, sour expression making even a radroach look pleasant.

“Piper! Who let you back inside? I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut! You devious, rabble-rousing slanderer! The-the level of dishonesty in that paper of yours! I'll have that printer scrapped for parts.”

God, this man made her blood boil. It was like his voice was nails on a chalkboard every time he opened his mouth. “ Oooh, that's a statement, Mr. McDonough? ‘Tyrant mayor shuts down the press?’ Why don’t we ask the newcomer, huh? Do you support the news? Cause the Mayor is threatening to throw free speech in the dumpster.”

McDonough seemed to just register the kid, who had stopped her trek inside to wait for the Minuteman and Mr. Handy, who had finished talking to the guard. She clearly wasn’t expecting someone to drag her into the argument, startling at being addressed.

“Piper! You can’t expect a child to understand the delicate situati-”

“My dad always said that politicians who try to control the press are the ones who know that they are doing something wrong.”

Piper barely held back the sputtering laugh. She wasn’t expecting such a harsh reply to the Mayor but it was sure funny.

McDonough quickly tried to pivot back to his ‘for the people’ persona as the Minuteman and Mr. Handy joined them.

“Oh, I didn’t mean for you to get involved with our argument, young miss. No, no, no, why you and your father look like Diamond City material,” McDonough said. His eyes were glued to the Mr. Handy, knowing that if they could afford to keep a Mr. Handy while on the road, they likely could afford to stay a while.

The Vaultie squinted at him confused. “Father?” she asked, before realizing, “Oh, you mean Mr. Preston? He’s not my dad, he’s just a friend.” The Minuteman stepped forward and held his hand out to shake the Mayor’s hand, but his expression could best be described as thinly veiled annoyance. “Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen. I escorted Miss Sunny here from a new settlement up North.”

Ha. Called it. Piper knew they couldn’t be related, though now she wonders how recently the Vault opened, if it had started a new settlement and she hadn’t heard about it. Vault dwellers typically didn't like to leave their underground homes, even if they did open for trade. At least that's what the folks in Vault 81 did, from what she heard.

The mayor at least had the decency to look embarrassed by his assumption, a faint blush dusting across his face before he tried to cover it with a cough.

“Ahem, well, I can assure you that the trip will be more than worth it. Diamond City has all the finest comforts: a safe, comfortable place to rest your head, great food, and anything you could dream of can be found in our fine market stalls. Was there anything in particular that you were looking for, young miss?”

Garvey’s face shifted slightly from annoyance to sympathy, focusing on the girl (he said her name was Sunny, right?) who’s expression dropped from a polite, neutral face to fragile, fearful hope. Even the Mr. Handy seemed sad, which was almost impressive given its lack of face. Whatever they were here for, Piper guessed it wasn’t a shopping spree in the market. 

“We were informed this would be the best place to look for help in finding a missing person,” the Mr. Handy said, posh British accent clear as the day he came off the assembly line. Damn. Another missing person? That would make 4 in as many months. And that would only count the ones Piper knew about. Who knew if anyone else had been taken and replaced by a perfect look alike. The ones not replaced just added to the fear of who had been, and if they could trust them should they ever return. A city filled with suspicion but no help. Diamond City Security wouldn’t hear anything about missing people and any complaints to the Mayor were tossed in the trash. Piper would know, she dug through it. “An infant boy was taken from Vault 111 and we are most fearful of what could have happened to him.”

“He’s my baby brother,” Sunny said, her voice cracking like she was about to cry “His name is Shaun. He’s only a few months old and I need to find him but I don’t know where else to look.” Piper’s heart broke for the girl. She was so young, she couldn’t be older than Nat. She didn’t want to imagine her sister out by herself out here in the wastes. And she was looking for her brother? A baby? The whole situation was heartbreaking.

Crap. That line she said about her parents being gone wasn't just a fib was it? Now Piper just felt like an ass.

McDonough's attempt at looking sympathetic was unsuccessful, so he just looked uncomfortable. “I'm sorry, Miss. But Diamond City Security simply doesn't have the time to look into every missing person's case. I'm afraid they're too busy to look for your brother.”

Sunny crumbled and tears started flowing. “You mean we came all this way for nothing?”  Garvey looked pissed, opening his mouth to start spitting fire at the useless Mayor, but Piper, in her rage and experience yelling at the spineless bastard, beat him to the proverbial punch.

“Seriously, McDonough? A kid crosses the Commonwealth looking for an infant and you tell her you can't spare one guard to help! What the fuck!”

Sensing the danger he was in from the reporter and Minuteman, McDonough tried to cover himself, “However, there is a private citizen who might be willing to help. Nick Valentine. A…detective of sorts. He specializes in tracking people down. I'm sure he'll be happy to take your case.” That did little to comfort the kid as she kept crying and hiccuping.

“Hey,” Piper said, stepping in front of the girl and leaning down to be closer to eye level with her. “ I know ol’ Nicky myself. He's the best in the business. He'll find your brother, I know he will. Come on now, dry those tears. You can't see your way to his office with blurry eyes.”

Sunny nodded, as she tried to wipe her eyes and nose, even as more tears gathered in her eyes. The Mr. Handy placed a gentle claw on her head. “Come now, Miss Sunny. You can't go into a new city with the sniffles. You need to make a good impression.”

As he fussed over her appearance, Preston said, “Thank you for the help with the Mayor. I don't think he would have given us any information if you didn't put pressure on him.”

“Aww, it's nothing. Giving McDonough a hard time is part of my job. I'm Piper Wright. I write Publik Occurrences articles.” She offered her hand. From the corner of her eye, she caught Mayor McDonough just as he fled up the stairs. The Mayor of Diamond City, folks! Makes kids cry and leaves you to clean up the mess.

 Preston smiled, “Oh, so that's what that yelling was about,” 

“Well, not everyone wants to know the truth. But don't let me bore you with my job. You’re here to see Valentine, right?” She took a quick glance over him, trying to see if there were numbers on his coat or any significant markers of which Minuteman company he was part of. She didn't know exactly how Minuteman identified each other, but she knew only one company responded to Concord's call for help. Colonel Holis was their leader, she thinks. If Piper could figure out which company he was in, she could know if she could trust him to not tuck tail and run at the first sign of trouble.

“That will be our first stop after we get supplies, though we could use some directions. This is my first time in the city.”

“Sure thing,” Piper agreed, “follow me. Won't get anything done standing in the entrance.”

“Sunny,” Preston said “come on, I want you to stay in my sights the entire time we are here,”

“Ok, Mr. Preston,” She said, drying the last of her tears. Her face was still red and puffy and downtrodden but she was calmer now. Holding on to one of the Mr. Handy's arms, she was gently led to join them toward the steps.

As they walked, Sunny looked at Piper, “Thank you for helping us get in, Miss Piper. Sorry we got you in trouble.”

Piper smiled gently at the girl, “Don't worry about it, I was already in trouble with him. You guys didn't do anything.” 

Sunny and the Mr. Handy crossed the threshold first and stopped to stare. “Wooow,” Sunny drawed out, “it looks really different from before, Codsworth.”

“Quite different,” the Mr. Handy, who Piper now knew was Codsworth, replied, “but I do believe that the change is not all that bad. It has quite a lot of character if I do say so myself!”

“Welcome to Diamond City,” Piper grinned and pointed down to Nat yelling out the headlines, “ See that girl down there? That's my sister, Nat. She can give you a good run-down of the place if you ask.”

Sunny looked over at Preston, silently asking for permission before taking off once he gave it. Nat immediately jumped into her sales pitch, but Piper knew she would be excited about a new kid when she got out of “work mode”. Even if she did have a robot following her around.

“So, Preston,” Piper started, her eyes not leaving the pair as they talked, “I'm surprised you've never been here before. I thought being a Minuteman meant you got to travel all over.”

Preston started going down the steps at a slow pace as he answered. “Typically, you are right. I've been everywhere from Bunker Hill to the edge of the Glowing Sea. I guess Diamond City is just so well protected, it never needed to call for help.”

She continued pressing. “Anyplace interesting? I've only been as far as Goodneighbor and that only takes half a day.” She needed to know if this guy had really ignored Quincy's need for help or had just not been told by his superiors. If he really did turn his back on the settlement, Piper was sure he'd do the same to the kid.

“In recent memory? Sanctuary has been the best. It's this old Pre-war subdivision that Sunny showed us after we met in Concord. It's peaceful, with plenty of space to grow food, a small river, and isolated enough that raiders aren't too big of a worry.” 

Damn it. Nothing. Piper decided for a more direct approach. “Anywhere else? Like…I don't know…Quincy?”

Preston stopped so abruptly that Piper nearly ran into him. He turned around and his face had changed from a kind, strong Minuteman to a stern, angry soldier.

“If that is your way of asking if I was at the Quincy Massacre, yes, I was. I was there as my entire company died one by one waiting for backup. I was there when I realized I was the only one left and Colonel Holis was dead and no one was coming. I had to make the decision to retreat with what few survivors left in hopes their sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. And I was there as we wandered through the Commonwealth looking for somewhere that we can be safe. So yes, I have been to Quincy.” He turned back around sharply and continued down in a march.

Shit. So he did go to Quincy's aid. And paid heavily for it, if he was the last one left. Today was just the day Piper insulted everyone, huh?

“Wait, Preston!” Piper quickly moved in front to stop him from storming off. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything.”

He scoffed.

“It's just that… When Quincy happened, everyone was devastated. The Minutemen were supposed to help people! Now, we don't know if we can trust the few left. I didn't know if you were gonna run and leave that girl behind when things get dangerous. But I am sorry. I can only imagine how terrifying it was going through all of that.”

Piper hoped he would accept the apology. She already made enough enemies by exposing scumbags with the paper. She had no desire to add a genuinely good person to that group.

Preston exhaled deeply through his nose before all the rage seemed to drain out of him. Leaving behind only a man who looked really, really tired.  

“I understand,” he said. “ Just don’t bring it up again.”

Piper agreed quickly, just as Sunny came running back up to them. The bright, cobalt blue of her vault-suit stood out like a beacon against the faded reds, browns, and grays of the city. Even when partially hidden by the brown of her leather armor, the only thing that rivaled that suit's color was the jewel green wall that gave the city its nickname.

“Do you charge for your paper, Miss Piper? Cause your sister completely forgot about that if you do.” Even as she spoke, Sunny’s eyes roamed around the scenery. It was probably super different from the vault she grew up in. Piper had never been in one before, but she was pretty sure she would react the same way Sunny is if she went inside one.

“It's on the house for first timers, kid. Next time you're gonna have to cough up some caps.” She quipped, even as the wheels in her head started turning. Sunny couldn't have been out of the vault for too long. What did someone who was raised on pre-war values, with pre-war history, surrounded by pre-war technology think of this post-war society? What did she learn in her classroom that's been lost to time for them? What stayed the same no matter where she was?

“Thank you very much for the assistance, Miss Piper.” Codsworth said, “ You said that you did know the way to Detective Valentine's place of work, correct?” 

Snapping out of her thoughts and coming back to the present, Piper nodded her head. “Right. Sorry about that,” She pointed toward the space past Moe Cronin and his swatters. “Go past all the stores and take a hard right into the alleyway. Valentine Detective Agency is the only thing down that way and it has a neon sign to boot, so you won't miss it.” 

Sunny nodded her head along to Piper's instructions then looked at Preston, expecting him to say something. He was silent for a moment, leaving an awkward tension in the air as Sunny’s gaze flicked between them confused. Piper wondered which would win? His lingering anger and offense or the exhaustion that now seemed to settle deep into his bones.

The exhaustion won as he simply said. “ You take care, Miss Wright. We won't keep you any longer.” He gently placed a hand on Sunny’s back and started leading her away. Codsworth gave his own polite wave and farewell before following, but Piper had her focus back on that blue suit. 

Sunny looked back at her and waved over her shoulder, giving a toothy grin. The dark screen of her pip-boy caught the light of the sun and gleamed slightly. The thing looked so big and bulky on such a small arm.

Piper decided to go with her half-baked idea and quickly caught up with the group, placing a hand on Sunny’s shoulder opposite of Preston. “Hold on a minute, Blue. I got one more thing to ask ya.” The new nickname slipped out easily past her lips. It seemed to fit the girl as well as her actual name.

Sunny didn't seem to notice what Piper had called her, or at least didn't acknowledge it. She turned back around and cocked her head, slightly confused on what the woman could need from her. Preston looked somewhat annoyed at being stopped yet again, but he didn't look as mad as Piper thought he would. Codsworth even seemed curious, continually zooming and un-zooming on her.

“What do you need, Miss Piper?”

“How do you feel about doing an interview for Publik Occurrences?”

“Huh?” Sunny’s brows furrowed in further confusion. “Interview? What do I need to do an interview for?”

“I want to put your story in print,” Piper told her. “I think it's time Diamond City and the Commonwealth to have some outside perspective. You haven't been outside the vault for very long right? So, you could provide a fresh pair of eyes to what everyone thinks is normal.”

Sunny stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. 

“Okay, but I’ll have to do it later. We need supplies and I need Detective Valentine’s help.”

____________________________________________________________

It was late into the evening when Piper heard a polite knock on her door. All the shops had closed down and a dinner of cram and salisbury steak had long been eaten. Piper had finished up her last touches on her article and was writing down questions to ask the young vault dweller up in the loft and Nat was patching up a tiny tear in her coat. Having been grounded for getting detention while she was away, she was banned from playing with her toys, comics, and magazines until the end of the week. As her guardian, Piper had to be responsible and teach Nat that she should have talked to the teacher instead of punching a boy in the nose when he wouldn’t leave her alone. As her sister, Piper was damn proud. 

“I got it,” Nat piped up, setting her sewing down easily. Piper was glad she actually enjoyed the activity cause she never had, nor did she have the patience for it. It was a necessary chore that needed to be done if you wanted to have decent clothes in the Commonwealth. Unless you were a yuppie in the Stands who could shell out the caps for new clothes when your old ones were ruined, someone in the house had to pick up a needle and thread.

Piper kept her focus on her notepad, wondering if asking a Vault Dweller if they were technically inbred was inappropriate before scratching the idea away completely.

“Hey, Piper? That vault dweller and her bodyguard are here to see you.” Piper finally looked away from her work and down toward the door. Sure enough, Sunny, Preston, and Codsworth were in her home. Sunny trying to diligently kick the dirt off her boots and Preston realizing it wouldn’t matter anyway. 

“Hey! Glad you guys remembered!” Piper shoved her notepad in her pocket and descended the stairs. Now on the ground floor, she got a side by side comparison of Nat and Sunny.

Okay. Maybe she was older than Nat. While the girl still held baby fat on her face like her sister, Sunny was several inches taller. She seemed…smoother, too. She didn’t have all the small scars across her hands Nat did have from handling paper and the printing press everyday. Her face didn’t have a random cut or bruise that kids normally sported around here due to falling and eating dirt. Nat and other young girls kept their hair chin length, so as to not have to spend a ton of time taking care of it. Even Piper made sure her hair never got past her shoulders. Sunny’s went past that, probably longer if they were out of the braids.

It was like she was missing parts that Piper was used to seeing in kids, and had them swapped with completely foreign ones. Vault kids really were an entire different breed from Commonwealth kids it seems.

“Hello, Miss Piper. Sorry for coming by so late but we are just stopping to tell you that we are going to have to delay that interview until later.”

Piper raised her eyebrow. Why stop and tell her if they decided not to do the interview? Did she anger Preston enough for him to forbid the interview? No, he would have shot down the idea when it was brought up and wouldn't show up to delay it. Did someone bad-mouth her enough in the market for them to change their minds? She wasn't exactly friends with most of them, but she didn't think any of them hated her enough to actively discourage an interview. Did they…

“Did Valentine forget to show some of that Diamond City hospitality? Normally, he’s better about that,” Piper tried to joke. Nick was always willing to help anyone who needed it, but a lot of people were put off by the bolts and exposed wires. If they were rude about the whole “prototype synth with memories from a pre-war cop” thing, she wouldn’t be surprised if he kicked them out. 

“Unfortunately, Detective Valentine was not there to receive us, only his assistant.” Codsworth answered.

“Miss Woods says he left to investigate a kidnapping by a gang led by a man named Skinny Malone and hasn’t returned. Does the name ring any bells?” Preston continued.

Piper’s mind went right back into work mode. Going over to one of her filing cabinets, she opened a random drawer and started flitting through the unorganized papers. “Nat, where’s my files on Skinny Malone and his gang?,” 

Nat shot over another cabinet, “His personal file is here,” a quick shuffle and Nat pulled out a folder.

Another cabinet and quick shuffle, “His gang's criminal history is here.”

Tucking under Piper, she closed the first drawer and opened the one below it, “And every article about their crimes are here.” She closed the drawer with her elbow and handed her sister the now decent stack of paper.

“Why do you know my system better than I do?”

“‘Cause you don’t have a system at all.”

Piper pulled out his personal file and the crime list. Handing the personal file over to Preston, she gave a quick rundown, “Skinny Malone is a small-time gang leader who wants to make it big. He grew up here in Diamond City. His family was well-off in the Stands, and spoiled him to be more rotten than brahmin shit. His dad cut him off 20 years ago after an altercation that ended with Skinny in the city jail, and told him that his bail would be the last time he spent caps on him. Skinny couldn’t handle an actual job, so he shot his parents in the head, took all the caps they had, and started his own gang .”

Preston followed her explanation on the paper, a serious look on his face. “And one of this gang’s crimes is kidnapping?”

Piper started skimming the list of crimes, cursing herself for not at least alphabetizing the stupid thing. Robbery, Assault, Murder- the whole thing was copied down as his crime list grew but kidnapping wasn’t one of them. She chewed on a nail.

“Nothing on kidnapping, but I do know he’s got a thing for pretty ladies way too young for him, and doesn’t like to be told no. If one got his interest enough and rejected him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he decided to just take the poor girl.”

“Miss Woods said that he was investigating Penn Street Station. We are going there to see if Detective Valentine needs help.” Sunny stated. “If he is as good as everyone says, I bet the girl will be there too.”

Piper flicked her eyes back over to the group before handing the paper back to Nat and heading past the couch. “Penn Street Station is past all the guard stations and is a good walk away. When are we leaving?”

Sunny immediately caught the addition in the question. “I’m sorry, we?” Piper had picked up her 10mm pistol and was now counting her bullets. 

“Yes, we. Valentine has been a part of Diamond City for as long as I can remember and he’s my friend. If you guys are staging his rescue, I’m coming.” Satisfied with the amount of ammo she had, she put her pistol in the pocket opposite of her notepad and pencil. She’ll need that too.

“Besides,” she added, “I still want that interview.”

____________________________________________________________

They had to leave Codsworth behind. Sunny had pitched a massive fit over it, but it was sadly the most practical. Penn Street Station would be crawling with Skinny’s gang, so a stealth approach would be needed. Codsworth was just too loud, his engine, singular thruster, and multiple arms always making an audible noise. His shiny metal finish and inability to crouch made him a giant silver beacon. It was only after she was told that he would stay at Publik Occurances and Piper lied that Nat needed someone to watch her for the night did Sunny agree to him being left behind. (Nat never needed anyone to watch her and had glared at Piper for saying that.)

By the time they had left the city and passed all the guards, the moon was high in the sky and the streets were quiet. Piper fished her notepad and pencil out of her pocket and flipped to the questions she prepared earlier. Not as many as she would have usually liked to have, but she could improvise a few if needed.

“So Blue, you up to answering a few questions for me?,” Piper asked the girl in front of her. A Stealth-boy had been attached to the girl’s armor and her rifle now held steadily in her hands. It looked so big in her hands, Piper couldn’t believe she used it. 

Sunny turned slightly to glance at the reporter. “Why do you keep calling me that? Blue?” she asked.

'Cause of the blue jumpsuit you're wearing?,” Piper answered, “You're a Vault dweller. That and the Pip-boy are dead giveaways.”

Sunny pulled at her collar and looked down to inspect her outfit. “Nothing else that fits me is any good. Everything else is either too big, in shreds, or a dress. I even have to tighten up the armor that I’m wearing with it as tight as it can go.”

Piper smiled and continued, “ I'm going to ask you a few basic questions first, just some simple information until I get to the bigger questions.”

“Okay.”

“Name?”

“ Sunny Evangeline Roberts.”

“Birthday?”

“April 4th.”

“Vault?”

“111. It's on my suit.”

“Age?” 

“12, technically.”

Piper frowned at that answer. “What do you mean by ‘technically’?”

“I mean, I'm only technically 12. If we actually counted the years between now and when I was born, it would be about 212 years.” 

If Piper had a drink, she would have choked on it. Instead, she just choked on her spit. Sunny’s tone didn’t sound like she was joking but Piper couldn’t imagine her being serious. The only ones who lived that long were ghouls and Sunny had the very strong distinction of having a nose. As she was trying to regain her breath, Preston lightly scolded the girl.

“Sunny, you can’t just tell people like that.”

“But you told Paladin Danse, why can’t I tell Miss Piper? If she is gonna write about me, she’s got to know.”

Piper couldn’t believe they were so casual about this. “Wait, wait, wait! What do you mean you’re over 200 years old?” she asked, voice jumping higher and louder than she meant it to.

“All Vault-Tec Vaults had an experiment built in,” Preston answered seriously, “none of them were good, which is why most are either abandoned or destroyed from the inside. Vault 111 put all of the original residents in cryogenic suspension.”

“They didn’t tell us,” Sunny’s voice had a hard and shaky tone to it, like she was trying to be tough but couldn’t. “No one would have agreed to it otherwise. It was too risky. So, they lied and told us the pods were for decontamination. ”

“Oh god, Blue.” Piper’s brain was having a bit of trouble catching up. This kid was old enough to be her great-great-something-grandmother. She had seen the bombs fall. She didn’t know anything about Vault-life, but knew everything about before the war like it was yesterday, because to her, it was yesterday. Most of her questions no longer applied, but a million more took their place in her head, and over half of them would be twice as insensitive as the inbreeding question.

“How…how did…how did you get out? When did this happen? ” Piper’s mouth finally settled on.

Sunny kept walking, but her steps slowed down and her hold on her rifle became looser. “ About two weeks ago. There was a malfunction in my pod. The fact that it was able to still open after not being maintained is nothing short of a miracle.”

Preston now slowed his pace to match Sunny’s, and Piper had to slow now too so as to not topple over the girl. Their brisk walking pace was now a shuffle. Piper’s pencil seemed to move on its own as it wrote down Sunny’s answer.

“Did anyone else make it?” Piper asked softly.

“No. Mom and Dad were killed when Shaun was taken and life support failed for everyone else.” Sunny’s nails dug into grip, scratching at the faux leather. “The scientists and guards that were supposed to watch us had some sort of…fight? Rebellion? Whatever happened between them, when I got out, all that was left was bones. Codsworth was the first person I found when I got out.”

Piper bit her tongue to avoid adding any commentary to the girl’s tale and just asked her question, “Why was your family allowed in the vault? I know only specific people were allowed in each one, or else we wouldn’t have so many ghouls.”

“Vault 111 was advertised as a military vault. They said it was to honor and thank our great American heroes, both past and present. Dad was retired military. His squad were the first to test out new Power Armor on the field, so they were really important. He injured his leg when I was nine, so he was honorably and medically discharged.”

Piper couldn’t contain her curiosity. “Was he the one who showed you how to use this giant thing?” She reached over Sunny and tapped her pencil against the stock of the gun gently.

She couldn’t see it, but a small smile was now on Sunny’s face. “Yeah, he did,” she reminisced, “After he retired, he stayed home while Mom went to work, taking care of the house and me. He was a bit paranoid afterward. He saw things while deployed, but they never told me what it was. He wanted to make sure I would be safe, so he taught me and Mom how to shoot, how to hunt and gather food, how to get clean water, stuff like that. I complained at the time, but now? I don’t think I’d be alive without them.”

Sunny looked up at the crumbling towers and shining stars. “Even with how worried about the future he was, I don’t think he could have imagined it being like this. Otherwise, I don’t think they would have had Shaun.” She looked straight ahead at Preston’s back again.

Piper was going to need to sharpen her pencil, trying to keep up with the girl’s words. She knew what the girl ment. If her brother was just an infant, there was a big age gap between the two, just like her and Nat. If their Dad had survived and their Mom stuck around, Piper wouldn’t have to play the stressful balancing act between sister and parent. She loved her sister with all of her heart, but Piper sometimes resented the responsibility on her shoulders. Sunny’s parents were now gone, and she was putting herself in the role of a mother on a mission to find her baby. After a beat of writing, she spoke again.

“What do you think of this?”

Sunny turned her head to look back at her. “Huh?” “All of this. What do you think of it? It's obviously different from before the war. I think everyone needs to hear how we are doing in comparison to before.” Sunny was silent for a short while, tumbling the answer around in her head. “ Things are different, that’s true. We didn’t have raiders and our toilets worked and the cows had only one head. My parents were here and my brother was safe. The buildings were safer and there was a lot more of everything.”

She paused as they had to climb over a large amount of debris. The rubble was loose and unsafe to walk on, so crawling uncomfortably on their hands and knees over it was the best way to get around the rocks and concrete. 

“There is good though,” she started again, “I have Codsworth, and I met Mr. Preston, and Dogmeat, and Paladin Danse, and everyone back at Sanctuary. Some things are different, but still nice. Diamond City was beautiful in a way I have never seen and when there aren't gunshots, everything is so quiet. And so many people are trying. They are trying to survive, and build homes, and have families. They have hope, so I have hope I can find my brother and have a good life.”

Piper smiled and scribbled down the last words of Sunny’s little speech. This was a lot to work with, and Piper didn’t want to cut anything. She hoped her old printer would survive all the extra work and not kick the bucket like Nat keeps saying. Once she finished her notes, she looked back through quickly, and found something that brought up another question.

“What’s a cow?”

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

The Wager

Mayans MC Masterlist

Based on this post by @darklydeliciousdesires

Contains: Fluff, consent and negotiation, smut (oral sex, F receiving, fingering, P in V, MFM threesome, aftercare.)

5.8K words

Angel and Manny have a bet, you get to be the one decide who wins.

"You eat ice cream like a child, look at your face Angel." You took your serviette and wiped his face, "and you, I expected better for you Emmanuel."

Manny shook his head, "what, ice cream is good, if you don't get your face all wet, you haven't done a good enough job."

Angel chuckled, "he's right you know, messy is best."

You shook your head, "and now we're not talking about ice cream, I can't take either of you anywhere." The three of you had been back and forth like this for weeks, sometimes, it felt like friendly ribbing, other times, it felt like an invitation.

"Are we wrong?" The smugness in Manny's voice was painful.

"I bet you say that to all the girls and when it comes to it you're whining after five minutes."

They looked at each other, "you wanna see for yourself corazón?"

You glared at Angel, "no, I do not, now finish your ice cream."

****

"Where's y/n?" Manny looked around the room, expecting to see you at the bar nursing a beer.

"On a date, she said he seems nice." Angel didn't sound impressed, "we still have a score to settle man."

Manny huffed, "no, we don't. I'm pretty sure the noise from my dorm last night made it clear that I'm the better man."

Angel shook his head, "bullshit, she's been into you since you arrived, how do you know she wasn't faking."

Manny chuckled, "oh, trust me, she wasn't faking." Something from the corner of his eye pulled his attention away, "looks like the date went south."

Angel took in your pissed off expression as you walked over to the bar and took a beer off one of the girls, "yeah, it looks that way." He waved you over and you headed towards them, plonking yourself on the chair with a huff.

"How did it go?" Manny's tone was friendly.

You sighed, "it was shit, I'm never going on another date again."

"Oh no, what happened?" Angel was the one being smug this time.

"We ordered, the conversation went to the bill, one thing led to another and he went on and on about how he doesn't go down because only weak and submissive men do that. I never even brought up sex."

Manny huffed, "bullshit, I mean.."

You cut him off, "I don't want to hear it dude, just let me wallow in my misery for the night."

Manny raised his hands with a slight smile, "alright, I'm not going to say a thing." You wished you could believe him, but how he and Angel looked at each other made you think differently.

****

They approached you the next day when you can by the metal yard to drop something off, the way they were acting had you very suspicious, "what? What the fuck do to two of you have planned?"

Angel smiled, "we have a.." He thought for a minute, "a small rivalry between and we think we could settle it."

"Yeah, and it would also solve your man problem." Manny had his head tilted at that angle that showed off his perfect face and it was making you kinda mad.

You exhaled, "let's hear it, you won't shut up otherwise."

Manny smiled, "we have a bet going on who's better in bed and we can't find a winner, you can't find a winner full stop, I suggest we help each other."

You crossed your arms over your chest, "and how will that work, if you need me to settle a bet then we need rules and it needs to be fair."

Angel smiled, "you get comfortable and we handle the rest."

You shook your head, "no, because whoever loses will blame it on which turn they had, or the other guy sabotaging it."

They looked at each other, still determined, "fine, then we take turns on different days." Manny seemed so sure of himself.

"Then the loser will accuse the winner of cheating." You were half hoping one of them would come up with a solution.

"That's an easy fix, the other guy watches." Angel said it like he was talking about baking a cake, and you were sure now that they had planned every single detail.

"No, as much as I think it would be fun, I don't want things to turn bad between any of us. I like you guys, you're my friends, and I don't want to ruin our friendship or worse, drive a wedge between you two. So no, you're going to have to find someone else to settle your bet."

You went to walk away but Manny stopped you, "we had a feeling you'd say that but we've already talked about it and agreed that if shit gets weird, we'll stop. We want to do it for you and we promise, it won't have any impact on our friendship."

You sighed, "my place, how does Saturday sound?"

Angel smiled so wide his face must have hurt, "Saturday's great, we'll bring the food."

You blinked, "wow, you're going to feed me too, I am one lucky woman."

Manny leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear, "oh, we're going to do more than feed you."

****

"Shoes please boys, Manny already gets a point for not needing to be asked."

Angel kicked his shoes off with a huffed, "I brought your favourite dessert, do I get a point for that?"

"Sure, but it's a pity point that doesn't bode well for you."

Manny was far smugger than first impressions let on, "I think this is going to go my way."

You tried to take the food from them but they stopped you, "nope, Querida, this is all about you. We can get the food, we know where your plates are."

You sat at the table about waited, it didn't take more than a few minutes for them to return from the kitchen with everything ready to go, "who's going first?"

Angel raised his hand, "I am."

You nodded, "and why is that?"

He smiled, "I'm older by three months."

"Yeah, he's got to go home early and have his prune juice before he goes to bed."

"Be nice, or I'll take your point away from you Mister."

He chuckled, "sorry, it doesn't matter, I get to go last so I'm fresh in your mind when you make your choice, Angel's at a real disadvantage."

"Nah, you'll have to measure up to me, you're the one at a disadvantage."

You sighed, "fighting will also lose you points, be good or I'm going to enjoy my meal then have fun all by myself."

Manny's eyebrows wrinkled, "how does this point system work anyway, it seems pretty arbitrary."

You smiled, "that's for me to know and you to find out."

****

You were all sitting on the couch watching TV after dinner, trying to figure out where to start.

"So, these are my thoughts about it. I want you both to stay the night, my bed is big enough for all three of us, I want to kiss, and condoms are mandatory."

They were smiling from ear to ear, then Angel's hand was on your thigh, "would you like to go to your bedroom?" You stood up and held your hands out for them to hold then led them into the bedroom.

You pointed to a chair in the corner, "well, that's your spot Manny, we should get to it."

Manny shook his head, "we realised that sitting and watching from a distance would give me an unfair advantage and you said it yourself, the bed is big enough for all three of us."

"How is you sitting on the bed any different?"

Angel stepped closer, his hand coming up to hold our waist, "we've agreed between ourselves that there's nothing wrong with the other guy lending a helping hand, a kiss here and there isn't going to change the results."

"Oh boy. Ok, we're doing this." You looked up at Angel and he closed the distance while Manny came behind you.

One of Angel's hands held your waist while the other came to stroke your cheek, "can I kiss you?"

You swallowed, "yes, yes you can kiss me, both of you can." Angel's lips were brushing yours before you could say more, it was soft, close to teasing, he finally sealed his lips to yours when Manny's found your neck.

You went to unbutton your top but Manny reached around your body and stopped you, taking your hands in his and rubbing them, "hey, let us do that." He dropped your hands and picked up where you left off, Angel breaking the kiss to look at your body as Manny's hands revealed it.

Angel's silence had you worried, "are you disappointed?"

He blinked, "fuck no, I just waiting to wake up from this wet dream."

Manny chuckled behind you, "he's right you know, you are perfect." You fought the urge to hide your face as you turned your head and pulled Manny into a kiss while Angel started to press his lips down your body. Your jeans went next, Angel kissing over every inch of skin he could reach. Manny pulled your head to the side with one hand so he could return his lips to your neck while the other undid your bra.

When Manny went to get his hand on your breast, Angel slapped his hand away, "wait your turn bro, we agreed to help each other not join in."

You giggled, "isn't that the same thing?" You reached out and started on Angel's top, removing it then going his jeans, "you too please, I'm feeling a little underdressed." Manny rushed to get naked and you barely had time to appreciate his lean muscle before Angel demanded your attention.

Angel huffed and pulled your panties off then pointed to the bed, "I have a bet to win, go get comfortable." Manny followed you, lying on his side as you settled on your back, and you could see his hard cock tenting his tight black boxers.

"You never answered by question." They looked at each other a chuckled but never followed up.

Manny's hand found your cheek as he pulled your attention away from Angel, "you're still talking, if this was my turn you'd already be begging."

"Begging? Don't worry corazón you won't need to beg me for anything, hell, I'll beg you for it." Angel was lifting your legs over his shoulders slowly and by the look on his face, something was about to happen.

You bit Manny's lip and waved your hand towards Angel, "I don't have a comment about that but I do find begging undignified, you couldn't get me to beg if you tried, either of you."

There was a charge in the air after you said that and you could feel the unspoken agreement they made between themselves. Angel's hand ran over the tops of your thighs, "you ready? You can tell me to stop at any time."

You nodded, "go for it."

Angel smiled, "I'm going to have so much fun." Manny took your face in his hands as Angel's tongue went from your entrance to your clit in one long, broad stroke and swallowed your gasp.

You felt Angel replace his tongue with his thumb as he lifted his head, "she tastes amazing, you say the word corazón and I'll kick him out and I'll have you all to myself."

Before you could respond, his mouth was back on you as you wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, "oh my God."

Manny chuckled, "that good ay, or have you just never had a man give you what you deserve?" You flopped your head onto the pillow and relaxed into the mattress as Angel slid two of the long, thick fingers inside you and Manny's hand brushed your skin.

"I can't talk right now." You couldn't decide what felt better, Angel's chuckle or his fingertips on your G-spot.

"That's alright, Angel might be hopeless but I don't think he's so hopeless that you need to give him detailed instructions. Me? You won't need to tell me a thing, I'm just that good."

There was another chuckle from Angel but he didn't move to say anything. You beckoned Manny for another kiss and he smiled against your lips as you got closer, "she's close bro, you better make the most of it because the way I see it, you're already losing."

Angel wrapped one of his substantial arms around your legs and pulled your body as close to his mouth as he could, you barely had time to warn him before you were arching off the bed and contracting around his fingers.

Manny swallowed your moans like he was starving and Angel showed no signs of letting as his fingers worked you open. Manny smiled as your legs started to twitch when you started climbing again, "and you're a twitcher, you are spoiling us."

"Oh fuck you Emmanuel, you are a smug…" Angel didn't like that he didn't have your undivided attention and was intent on fixing that, he did something with his tongue that had your vision whiting out as you flew headlong off the cliff.

"That's two, you think he can get another one out of you." You struggled to answer and Angel lifted his head without removing his fingers, in fact, he doubled his efforts.

"What do you need pretty girl?" Angel's tone was soft while Manny touched you gently and you couldn't tell whether he was trying to steal your words or help you find them.

"Whatever you want."

He smiled, "alright then." His head dropped back and he seemed determined to prove a point. You reached towards Manny and ran your hand down his hard chest and tried to slide it into his boxers but he stopped you.

"Another time Querida, this is about you." His hand moved to your face as you felt another orgasm arise. He looked into your eyes as you came, a small smile gracing his face, "there you go, he's doing a pretty good job, isn't he?"

You nodded, trying to stammer out a reply, "I feel empty."

Manny looked at Angel, his face full of mischief, "yeah Angel, she feels empty. Are you going to do something about that or are you going to leave it to someone who knows what they're doing?"

Angel dropped your legs off his shoulders and kissed his way up your body to your mouth, the kiss deep and full of passion as he pressed his lips to yours, "where are the condoms?"

"Top drawer." Angel reached across while you turned your head and kissed Manny, his moan filling you with warmth.

"You do taste good." The sudden realisation that Manny could taste you off your lips from Angel's kiss had you desperate for more.

Angel tearing open the condom box pulled your attention away, tapping his leg with your foot as he went to open the packet with his teeth. "Let me do it." You took it off him and opened it as he dropped his boxers, "oh, ok then."

Angel smiled, "don't worry, I'll go slow." His breath caught in his throat as you rolled the condom down his shaft. He crawled on top of you have hovered over you, waiting for you to give consent.

"Please."

Manny snorted, "you gonna deny her man?"

Angel shook his head as he lifted your legs over his waist, "hell no." He ran his cock up and down your slit and you turned to Manny with imploring eyes, hoping that Angel might stir to action if he didn't have your attention.

"He's being me……" You couldn't finish your sentence as Angel slid slowly inside you pausing to let you adjust to his ample size. Manny rushed to remove his boxers and his hand wrapped around his cock, "I feel like I'm neglecting you."

He kissed you again, then Angel gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger to bring your lips to his, millimetres away from kissing you, "I keep saying this is about you. If you keep this up I'll make sure you're sorry."

He closed the distance and you were too busy enjoying Angel's lips on yours to reply and Angel started to rock his hips slowly, his moan filling the air as he pulled back, "shit mano, you are really in for it, it's like the wettest warmest hug….fucken hell."

"Hey man, if you can't last I'm not going to judge you, she's something else and I haven't even gotten to touch her yet." You whimpered as Angel brushed your G-spot and Angel turned to Manny with a hard look on his face.

"You don't stand a fucking chance bro." He grunted and shifted his weight onto one forearm so he could reach down between you and rub your clit.

"Angel, I…" He pressed his lips to yours, his beard scratching your skin.

"I know, I can feel you squeezing me. You can let go, I'm here." You were powerless to resist and Angel buried his face in your neck while Manny captured your lips with his.

This was one slow, the warmth spread from your core and up your spine and filled your body with pleasure. Angel chuckled and hurried his hips, ramming himself inside you while you tried to twitch away, "don't run Querida, he just wants to make you feel good."

You gasped as Angel doubled his efforts, pushing you over the edge one last time before you felt him pulse inside you. Manny grunted and you turned your head just in time to see him reach bliss before Angel's weight fell on you as he caught his breath.

"That was really good."

Manny chuckled, his voice slow, "just really good?"

Angell chuckled and rolled off you, pulling off the condom and dropping it into the wastebasket before going to get up, "I'm just going to get something for the mess, you guys wait here."

Manny waved his hand and stood up, "let me do it, you guys stay here." Manny walked towards the bathroom and you rest your head on Angel's chest while you waited.

"Did you have fun?"

You sighed, "I did." Manny returned and threw the towel at Angel who took his time to clean up the mess he made, chuckling as you flinched away from him. "Sorry corazón."

Manny settled in next to you and ran his hand up and down your arm while Angel got rid of the cloth before taking his place on the other side. "Did everyone have fun?"

Angel huffed, "shouldn't we be asking you that?"

You shook your head, "I feel like I should have done more."

Manny chuckled and pecked your cheek, "I told you to stop that, you are fast on track to getting your ass spanked before we do anything together."

You turned to Angel who raised his eyebrows, "I agree with him corazón." You sighed and rolled onto your side facing Angel while Manny pressed his chest to your back and Angel pulled you into his arms.

"Goodnight gentlemen."

Manny's lips press to your shoulder while Angel's pressed to your forehead, "goodnight y/n."

****

"Morning." You rubbed your face and sat up then felt two sets of hands running up and down your back.

You kissed both of them, Angel then Manny and then got up, "who wants pancakes?"

They both smiled, "I'll take that as a yes, there are spare stuff in the bathroom, I'll get the food ready while you two start the day."

You sat down from breakfast and then they left, still smiling like little boys, they both said they would keep in touch through the week and you had a feeling the rivalry would only get worse until you could settle in next Saturday.

****

They messaged you everyday, it went from one on one to a group chat and then the group chat when from civil conversation to you telling them to not to fight. Needless to say, you were excited.

****

The knock on your door had you jumping up to open it, they were early. You opened the door with a smile, "I thought we agreed that you'd be over here at seven, it's only five."

Manny lifted some shopping bags and Angel sighed, "he wanted to cook for you." They walked in and tossed off their shoes then headed to the kitchen. You walked in planning to help but Manny waved you off.

"Go soak in the tub, we're fine to cook."

You sighed, "please don't burn my house down. Also, this doesn't count towards anything, I don't want Angel to feel bad because he bought take out and you decided to cook."

Angel smiled, "don't worry, I don't feel bad at all, I think I came off better in the end anyway, and now I'm getting a home cooked meal? I'm a lucky guy."

You paused before leaving for the bathroom and stood in the of the room and slowly removed your clothes while looking back and forth at them stark naked, "well, I'm going to go enjoy my bath, you kids have fun." You felt their eyes on your ass as you walked away, smiling to yourself when you heard them whispering to each other.

You enjoyed the warm water until there was a knock on the door, Angel's voice floating through the air, "it's ready when you are."

You stepped out of the tub and dried off, then dressed and headed into the dining room, "wow, this smells and looks amazing, what did you make?"

Manny smiled, "penne ala vodka with a garden salad."

Everyone sat down and you tucked in, "wow, I'm impressed, I really hope you measure up in the bedroom because if you don't I'm going to be very disappointed."

Angel chuckled, "he won't, but don't worry corazón, I'll make sure you don't go to sleep unsatisfied."

You shook your head, "Angel, be nice."

Manny smiled, "yeah Angel, be nice."

You slapped Manny on the shoulder, "I know you're younger than him but we both know you're more mature, I expect better from you."

Manny smiled turned heated, "and you're going to get it."

****

You skipped watching TV this time and headed right for the bedroom after dinner and dessert were over. You stood back in the same position in the middle of the room and waited for Manny to act. Unlike Angel, Manny waved his hands for Angel to sit on the bed and then circled you like a hungry animal.

His fingertips grazed your cheek as his hand drifted towards you night shirt then he flicked the buttons open. Your eyes drifted to Angel and you watched as he licked his as Manny slowly undressed you.

He took his time touching you as each item of clothing was removed, his eyes racking over your skin, "are you going to do anything man or are you just going to look at her?"

Manny huffed, "unlike you, I want to savour this vision before I drive in, you should take note."

Angel shook his head, "aren't you feeling frustrated? You were happy for more right away last week."

"Be quiet Angel, if y/n doesn't like something she knows she can tell me." Normally people talking about you like you weren't there would piss you off but there was something about the way they were playing off against each other that was hot.

When you were in nothing but your panties, Manny slid his hand between your legs and stroked you through the fabric, "I don't know what Angel's going on about because you are soaked."

"Lose the underpants and go lay on the bed." You did as he asked, and Manny was close behind you, his lips brushing your shoulder as you reached the edge of the bed. Angel moved to lay next to you, his eyes stuck on your breasts as Manny's hand ran up your legs from your ankles to your thighs.

His lips followed after he kneeled on the bed, paying extra attention to the sensitive spots he noticed when you were with Angel. You thought he would start right away but his lips bypassed your core and he made his way up to your lips. He brought you into a kiss, it was slow and deep, his nose brushing yours as he went.

Manny turned his attention to Angel briefly, "hold her leg up?"Angel smiled and sat up, reaching over to grab your leg and hold you open for him. Manny's lips never left yours as his hand trailed down your body and to your centre, his fingers collecting wetness from your entrance before landing on your clit.

You gasped and Manny smiled against your skin, pulling back to smirked at Angel, "sorry man, I've been leaving you out."

Angel shrugged "I'm fine with just watching, she is beautiful from this angle." Angel got his chance when Manny started to kiss down your body, stopping to pay extra attention to your neck. You reached your hand out and placed it on Angel's cheek while he leaned in to kiss you.

The angle was a little strange but Angel seemed happy to twist himself around in order to deepen the kiss. Manny huffing as his hand moved your from leg to your face, "dude, can't you just do this one thing for me?"

Angel pulled away from you with a chuckle, "just throw her legs over your shoulders bro, unless you're too lazy."

Manny shook his head, "nah, I figure if you hold her leg she won't twitch as much."

You sighed, "I don't know but I think that might be cheating Emmanuel, just a bit."

Angel smiled, "yeah Emmanuel, that's cheating."

Manny shook his head, "you're really asking for it now Querida." He lifted your legs over his shoulders and wrapped one arm around your leg, angling it so it was hard for you to move away. Then he smirked up at you and drove in like a man possessed. Angel laid down and placed his hand on your cheek, looking into your eyes as your vision blurred from pleasure.

"I can't tell which is my favourite, watching her face and making her cum. What do you think Manny?"

Manny's thumb replaced his mouth as he raised his head to answer his friend, "here, you were underselling it when you told me this was heaven because I'm pretty sure you're right."

Your eyebrows wrinkled and Angel smiled, "what, you think we didn't talk about it nonstop after we left? The other guys might not know what's going on but we haven't been able to stop talking about it."

"He's right, I think I'm going to be reliving this till the day I die."

You smiled, "you know Manny, Angel didn't talk anywhere near as much, considering his mouth was busy elsewhere." Manny shook his head with a huff.

"Alright then." He made eye contact with you as he slid two fingers inside you and wrapped his lips around your clit, Angel taking advantage of your parted lips to pull you into a searing kiss.

All the buildup served its purpose and you felt yourself approach the edge as Manny found your G-spot and made quick work bringing you closer to the end. You reached down to push him closer but the lack of hair made it hard and Manny chuckled.

"Is he being mean to you?" Angel's tone was filled with affection.

"Yes."

Angel shook his head, "good." You blinked and tried to make sense of his response but he leaned in and kissed you again, "if he's mean then I might get the chance to win."

That seemed to spur Manny to action because his arm unwrapped from your leg and then his forearm was holding you down as his fingers pressed your sweet spot and his tongue brought you right to the edge. You gasped as it hit you, Manny's arm pushing down harder as he rode out the buck of your hips.

"Oh my God." Angel shook his head took your hand in his.

"Is he making you feel good?" Manny hadn't stopped working you past the post orgasm sensitivity and into another while you tried to close your legs, "I'll take that as a yes."

You were expecting Manny to stop but he didn't and you went to shove him away but he grabbed your hand like a viper, "I'm not done yet, you know what to say if you want me to stop."

Your breath quickened as he went right back to where he left off, there was something about what he was doing that it your whole body feel like it was on fire and then you were falling again.

"Please, I can't." Manny chuckled against you, seemly feeling merciful as he pulled away and started to kiss your inner thigh.

"What do you want?" It was taking a lot for you to reply.

"He asked you a question y/n."

You swallowed and tried to get the words out, "I want you inside me." Manny smiled, his lips moving over your hips and then your stomach and then your breast and finally your cheeks and your lips.

"Are your condoms in the same place?"

You nodded, "why are you both still clothed?" You had never seen Angel move so fast, he was naked before you could blink, on the other hand, Manny took his time, smirking as your eyes followed his hands as he undressed.

Your eyes were stuck on his cock as he pushed his boxers down, he and Angel were about the same size, equally as big and Manny smiled, "you still want this?"

You nodded aggressively, "yes please."

Manny chuckled and got a condom then placed it between his index and middle finger and wiggled it, "you want to put it on me or do you trust me enough to do it?"

You sighed and sat up, taking the packet from him, "I'm not the one who tried to open it with my teeth, you're just being difficult now."

You opened the condom and slid it over his cock then laid back down with a sigh, "please, go for it."

Manny smiled and shook his head, "with pleasure."

Unlike Angel, he only lifted one leg over his hip as he slid inside you, "holy fuck."

Angel chuckled, "see what I mean? You've talked a good game all week but now that you're in my position you get it."

You shook your head, "Angel, don't tease."

Manny smiled, "yeah Angel, don't tease." Despite the attitude, his tone was tight, almost shaky.

Manny moved his hips slowly, rocking into you while making sure to brush your G-spot with each stroke.

You whimpered as he picked up speed, Angel's grunt pulling your attention away. His hand was wrapped around his cock and when you reached out to lend him a helping hand, Angel stopped you, "we've been over this, relax and enjoy yourself, this is about you."

You went to protest but Manny kissed you hard, "if you keep this up I'm going to get Angel to hold you down and then you won't be able to do anything." Manny grunted when you clenched around him, "you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Before you could respond, he was yanking you down the bed to make room for Angel, "hold her wrists." Angel moved in a rush, the hand that was resting on your cheek going to encompass your wrists in a solid grip.

"Thanks bro." Manny reached one hand down to rub your clit and Angel smiled.

"Don't mention it, I can tell how much she liked it. Unless we're reading you wrong?"

You shook your head, "no, I like it."

Manny smiled, "we can tell." Manny's hips ramped up to full speed and your breath caught in your throat, "you're gonna cum for me again, aren't you? I can feel how hard you're squeezing me."

You nodded and his lips found yours, the fingers on your clit making tighter circles. You didn't have time to warn them before it hit you, Angel's hand tighten around your wrists as your back arched.

That must have done it for Angel and with a grunt he pressed his lips to yours as he came. Just like before, Manny didn't let up and no matter how hard you tried to twitch away, you couldn't, not that you really wanted to.

"Come on, just one more and then we can call it a night." It wasn't like he was going to give you a choice. It hit you fast, just as the other one was winding down and the noise got caught in your throat.

"There you go, good girl." Your head lolled to the side and Angel took the chance to press his lips to yours in a soft and gentle kiss. Manny pulled you away from Angel and buried his face in your neck as he came.

Manny rolled off you and disposed of the condom with a sigh, "so, who wins?"

You whimpered, "ask me again in the morning."

Angel chuckled, "you guys stay here, I'll go get something to clean up."

You rolled into Manny's arm and he stroked your cheek, "you feeling alright?"

"Yeah, I'm great."

Angel threw the damp cloth at Manny and climbed into bed next to you while Manny cleaned up.

"Have you been having fun?" Angel's voice was rough with tiredness.

"I have been, it's been great but we should really finish this conversation tomorrow with clear heads."

Manny disposed of the towel and took his spot opposite Angel , "we can talk about it in the morning, for now I think it's time we all get some sleep."

"Goodnight boys."

"Goodnight y/n."

****

You were up early the next morning, unable to sleep from nervous energy, Angel coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your body while you did the pancakes.

"Is Manny in the shower?"

Angel nodded, "yep, I'll help you finish. How are you doing?"

You smiled, "good, I'm doing good."

He smirked, "that's great. I can't wait for you to tell me I won."

You huffed, "go and sit down, this is almost done."

Manny came out of the bathroom just as you were bringing out the plates. Everyone sat at the table and you flopped down with a sigh.

"I can tell you can't wait any longer but I don't have a winner and that's what I wanted to talk about. I like you, both of you, like a lot and I'm worried that no matter who I chose it's going to change things. And I don't want that. What I want, is for this to keep happening."

They smiled, each one reaching out to grab one of your hands, Manny speaking first, "we'd like that too, it's all we've been talking about, we just had no idea how to bring it up."

You smiled, "really? You both want to share me?"

Angel nodded, "fuck yeah, you're a total catch, we gotta sweep you up before someone else does. I'm honestly kinda sick of EZ asking me if you're single."

Your smile widened, "after breakfast, I have some favours to return, you should eat up, you're going to need your strength."

You had never seen two men eat so fast in your life.

Fin

[violentferalcat]

“I once loved a pirate and she was courageous and beautiful. Her excellence in sabre and the humour which she brought to the table were all that I needed. The first glance at her was enough. The first word.

“That day when I noticed her in the greasy pub in the narrow and cold alleyway near the pier I rejected my feelings for her. How can a woman love a woman? How can a citizen of the mighty crown love a pirate? But the longer I stared at her, the more often I saw the cruelty of soldiers abroad and within the country, the less guilty I felt. Still, feeling guilty brought me pleasure, for I knew I was doing something wrong. And no matter how absurd that might have sounded, it made it better.

“That day when she noticed my longing stares I left the pub in haste. I heard men hollering, the yellow light from the musty windows lit my reddened, ashamed face. I put on my hood over my head and hurriedly walked home. I couldn't have slept that night even if I wanted to.

“I approached her the next day. It was at night, as it usually was. I never told my sister nor my mother about my nightly walks. I feared for what they'd do to me once they found out.

“She was tall and her tanned skin once again reminded me that she was a pirate. A small part of my mind rejected that look, rejected her lifestyle. My soul, on the other hand, wanted to break free and run away together with her. She kissed me when I left the pub that night. It was outside and I still remember the way the wind blew in our hair as her lips touched mine. I told her goodbye. She did the same.

“I met her almost every day. She waited for me with as much excitement as I had while walking to the familiar greasy pub. One night I forgot to look behind myself. There was a man following me whom I didn't notice. I entered the pub and forgot myself in her embrace. That man saw us kiss. The next day he arrived at my home. He was from the royal guard.

“I denied ever seeing the woman. I strenuously tried to convince the man that there wasn't any connection between us. He didn't believe me. There wasn't any convicting evidence to throw me in jail. That night I didn't leave my house. Just like I didn't for the next week.

“When everything settled once again and the man had finally left me alone, I put on my night hood and walked to the pub. I made sure no one was following me. When I arrived there, I saw the same familiar faces of regular patrons and pirates. Among the crowd I didn't see her. I wandered for a few minutes before sitting down at the counter. Another friend-pirate that I had made sat next to me. He ordered me beer. I thanked him.

“I asked him about the woman. He told me that she left for the sea yesterday. She'd sit at the pub every night waiting for me, but last night she couldn't wait any longer. The woman feared that I had left her forever and she had turned to the only love that was left in her life – the sea. I cried into the man's shoulder. He hugged me.

“I wait for her everyday. I stand at the pier and see ships arrive and leave. I visit the pub every day in hopes that I will once again see that beautiful face. The friend-pirate offered to take me on a journey. He offered me a pirate's way of life. But what if I miss her while I'm at the sea? But what if I see her dead body on the grey stones somewhere near a small island? But what if my hope dies together with me in a storm?

“Today I walk to the pub to answer the man's offer. Today I make the big decision...”

– from diaries of an unnamed woman, circa 1717

[warsofasoiaf]

If Aegon I really did prophecise the return of the Others (as HOTD claims), shouldn't he have tried to reform Westeros' military structure to prepare? A standing army might be too difficult to keep fed in a world with variable winters. However, in some medieval themed stories I've read there have been kingdoms with a "central band" that is always active, and is augmented by levies when a war actually occurs. Also, in your response to my last question you mentioned the possibility of making those eligible for military service train for a certain number of days every year.

I did mention that, but I also mentions that such a provision, even for a kingdom not as ridiculously huge as Westeros, would be laughably unenforceable. Even countries with greater bureaucratic organization, like Rome or Byzantium, struggled with mobilization and readiness - time spent doing drill is time not spent having a living. In later eras, governments tried all sorts of carrots and sticks to make sure there was at least some levels of training: everything from fines for people who did keep their kit in good order such as in the Asize of Arms to the Anglo-Saxon fyrdsmen being trained by the regions to act as a first line against raiding Vikings to militiamen getting free food and beer to show up for drill day in the Thirteen Colonies. Enforcement for these provisions was typically done at the local level simply because having a national-level system for doing so was simply not feasible. You could have a smaller organization have regular training, such as town watches which might be able to organize with the help of city-wide entities like burghers and guilds. So while that would be very smart, it is likely beyond Aegon's capacity.

There is an entity that can act like this, and in fact, is supposed to act like this: The Night's Watch. Regular tithes and donations to the Watch to help support cashflow problems that early armies would struggle with (hence why mercenary companies frequently turned brigand when there were no wars to sign up for), but it's simply not sufficient without regular payment. If Aegon wanted to support this in a way that was much more politically feasible - he'd mandate a percentage of taxes taken in be sent to the Night's Watch, or possible tax forgiveness up to a certain amount for donations to the Watch. This is a little bit easier to manage, as tax assessments could be made a little more regularly than unit inspections of far-flung regions and the Night's Watch can easily record donations received to help simplify the accounting process.

The fact that this isn't done, and that Aegon is smart enough to know this, is yet another indication that this "plot twist" is not integrated very well in the story. As I've said in the past, it feels like poorly-executed, tacked-on nonsense and significantly hurts Aegon's characterization, introducing a bunch of plot holes while addressing only one rather insignificant question regarding Aegon (why conquer Westeros?) that wasn't even all that important to begin with.

Thanks for the question, Ryu.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King