#sorry for those tags even though he's not in it

[seelestia]

✧ i'll show you (if you'll let me).

⎯ there is a certain touch of beauty to witnessing a side of theirs revealed to you so naturally. it becomes as easy as breathing if you just let it happen... so, will you? ( or in other words, a way you enable them to be themselves. )

#STARRING. aventurine, dr. ratio, sunday, dan heng ft. gn!reader. { 4.2k words }

#TAGS. fluff, established relationship. more: minor spoilers for aven's backstory (described mostly abstractly), ratio is referred to by his first name, i called sunday a nerd (sorry), dr. ratio & dan heng are certified workaholics.

#P/S. i think i may have yapped a little considering the word count but i hope it ends up being a good kind of yapping. tysm for reading! ♡

© seelestia on tumblr, may 2024. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

will you let aventurine hold you close when he sleeps? . . . whether it's an arm slung over your hips or his nose buried in your shoulder or fingers tracing shapes onto your skin. he doesn't ask for too much; only that you grant him the permission to cradle you in his arms, somewhere within his reach. it's a habit, he hopes you don't mind.

you have to wonder, though. considering the plenitude of pillows on the bed, why do his hands still seek you out? with all the credits he spent on those cotton-stuffed angels, you thought aventurine would relish them a bit more. but ah-ah, see? that is where you're wrong. sure, the pillows are extremely comfy but he always has a preference for things with much, much more value.

and the truth — well, his truth — is that even the softest cushions from oti mall couldn't compare to the privilege of laying his head on your chest, he'd say. especially when you brush his hair with your fingers - oh, one of the easiest ways to paradise. truly, the best value there is! can you blame a man for being honest and a little lovesick?

(“sappy,” you accuse. he pouts, offended.)

but aventurine has a flair for theatrics, you know that. his witty quips are as feather-light in weight as light-hearted they are in intent. but his touch - in the forms of kind caresses or rhythmic taps to a tune from his forgotten culture - lingers on your skin, with a yearning so heavy. you question whether it could be nostalgia or instead, silent awe at a reality he never imagined could ever be his.

(kakavasha remembers. clinging onto you for warmth like he once did to his sister, falling asleep with her prayers to mama fenge in his ears. the avgins believed gaiathra triclops to be the symbol of humility; so naturally, their prayers to her should also be humble, not too quiet but not too loud. all in moderation. for a frail child like him, those gentle prayers alone were enough to let him drift into a dreamless slumber and to ignore the shackles of reality if not for the briefest moments.

time passed. came a time where the melody he associated with slumber was no longer a soft voice lulling him but pure static, a noise to distract his mind from the chains around his wrists. they burned themselves onto his skin, searing, but he was already too familiar with the sensation to care. the mark on his neck was unwelcome, laughing at him, but he too laughed at his own pitiful reflection so what's the difference, anyway?

time passed again, the call of slumber then turned into clattering noises of chips doused in gold and dice thrown onto a surface. he thought it'd stay that way forever but before long, it morphed into up-and-down waves he couldn't decipher initially. they're gentle, faint like a human's breathing: your breathing as you allowed him to lie beside you for the first time, he realized back then. although he deems himself unworthy, an ugly grime on your pristine existence that still insists on cradling him — but despite it all, he finds this last melody to be his favorite so far.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

ticklish.

the sensation, minor yet still impactful enough, causes you to stir out of sleep. the light of noon greets your eyes and you become vaguely cognizant that the root of it all is the tufts of blond hair brushing against your neck.

there is a solid weight on your torso and a pair of slender arms loosely wrapped around your waist - but they're nothing you haven't grown used to. you comb your fingers through the messy locks licking at your skin, instinctively, and the fragrant scent of what you register as penacony's limited edition perfume kisses your nose.

“...ugh, what system time is it?” you let out a grunt, shifting around slightly to let your limbs breathe. you don't get an answer to your question, instead, aventurine's arms reestablish their hold on you. hooking you closer to him as if to wring out whatever proximity is left, if there is even any. his simple proclamation of “who cares?”, in a sense.

there it is again, that ticklish feeling. you feel soft lips grazing feather-like kisses against your collarbone. oh, he definitely isn't letting go just yet. truly merciless, a dozy morning thought accompanied by your tired sigh. the noise still comes out fond, however, so your feigned act of annoyance is fooling no one.

“it's warm, you know,” you grumble. but the yawn escaping your mouth right after betrays whatever stern image you're trying to adopt. not like you can ever be too stern with him. aventurine knows this, yes, and he gives you an A+ for effort each time.

“mhm,” he finally speaks, snuggling into your chest with no care about anything in the world, “g'morning to you too, lovely.”

his favorite mornings aren't his favorite if not thanks to your innocuous complaints and delightful attempts at pushing his pretty face away, no? a lazy grin graces the stoneheart's lips and eyes like exquisite gems, although sleepy, flutter open to gaze at you languidly. he takes the sight of you in then lets out a sigh - a fond noise just like yours earlier; the both of you really are two peas of a pod.

you must look a terrible mess right now and yet, the sight of you has aventurine smiling dazedly. “ah, what a spectacular sight. i really am the luckiest man in the galaxy,” he hums in approval. you want to roll your eyes but stops as he leans up to pepper (ah, one necessary correction: smother) kisses all over your face, arms dragging you closer to his chest like a cage. your eyes widen comically. what a nefarious trap, he has the advantage!

every remnant of sleepiness clinging to your mind evaporates. you squeal with laughter, shoving at his shoulder using the strength of a baby deer because no, you don't really want him to stop. he knows that too, of course.

“mwah, mwah, mwah—”

“pfft...! kakavasha, i can't breathe!”

(he has half a mind to pinch his skin, as if to remind himself that this is real. he can feel your giggles tickling his skin as if to tell him in return: yes, you are.)

will you let veritas pour his heart out after a long day? . . . well, that could count as too much of an overstatement. others say, “that man is like a brick wall!” some more dare to whisper, “doesn't his temper already exhaust whatever emotional quota he has?!” needless to say, everyone knows that dr. ratio is a man ruled by the mind, not by the heart. alright, that's quite true - but does that imply he has discarded the latter altogether? if so, then you beg to differ.

(not in the literal sense, of course! the heart is a vital organ of the body. saying otherwise would be akin to spitting on his shiny phd in biology... or his seven other phd's at that.)

the pedestal which the public places veritas ratio on reaches still great heights, even if it may not rival an ivory tower a member of the genius society resides in. it is so high up that mundane troubles of those below can't reach a genius like him, surely? well, as tall as he stands - somehow, the universe grants you a front row seat for a particular sight that proves otherwise.

if only they knew the doctor has a habit of mumbling these incomprehensible (more like barely intelligible) grumbles under his breath, striking a resemblance similar to a grumpy old cat. if you strain your ears hard enough, you might catch a “...this has to be it...” or “...i dare not think so...” from time to time as he roams around the room with materials in his hands.

(absurd, people would say. but you think it's extremely cute.)

veritas doesn't say it out loud - but you can tell by the hunch in his stiff shoulders, by the one or two sighs he huffs every six minutes - that he is itching to tell somebody of all the tomfooleries he has encountered today. of course, the topics he laments about vary; it's only when you hear him exhaling the loudest sigh that you get to find out.

mostly though, it's about his students and remarks on how they can further improve their performance — sure, he could phrase it a little gentler — but you still find it sweet that he cares. if not that, then it'd be about indolent colleagues, complicated formulae and more. on some days, he'll even let out an exasperated “truly mind-boggling! could you believe that?” to which you'd reply with an “uh-huh, go on.”

at the end of a ranting session, veritas takes careful note to leave a kiss on your person afterward. no matter where it is - on the lips, the cheek or your hand. no matter where you are - sitting on the couch beside him, behind the kitchen counter or across the room. the warmth that stays on your skin when he pulls away is somewhat tingly. appreciative, you think, especially when he looks at you with such loving eyes that his colleagues would be sure to retch in shock if they were a witness.

looks like you are right on the money; he has never discarded his heart, after all. so yes, to rephrase - will you lend veritas a listening ear when he needs it?

✧ a moment among the stars:

“...yet another headache.”

as unsubtle as ever, the doctor's complaint is barely hidden behind the guise of a mumble. those neatly styled violet bangs of his aren't doing an excellent job at concealing that frown strewn across his forehead either. veritas's posture is tense, a dead giveaway, as he goes over the piles of documents on his desk.

you cock an eyebrow upon seeing the stamp belonging to the intelligentsia guild on one of the papers. definitely work. it has been two system hours since he took a seat at the work desk, you concur, or lifted a finger to do something besides flipping through drafts. a mere glance at the stack of documents is enough to convince you that those researchers at the guild must really value veritas's input.

a perk of being a genius, maybe? the phantom of a weight lands alight on your shoulders. with a mug of black coffee in hand, you make your way to him. your footsteps are without a sound, only the noise of porcelain being placed down onto woodenware is enough to announce your arrival. “rough day at work?” you ask, peering down at his progress.

(a doctor's handwriting really is something. you resist the urge to squint.)

veritas doesn't seem to mind. if the way he smiles at the sight of you, albeit tiredly, is any indication. “hah,” he rests a hand on his temple and scoffs wryly, “so much grievances like you wouldn't believe.”

oh, he is teetering on the precipice of a tangent but stops himself. “...fret not, i'm fine. this is hardly something beyond my expertise,” he shakes his head, the motion causing his reading glasses to slide down a smidgen down the bridge of his nose.

you're too familiar with the self-assured bravado he puts on. you're quite endeared, actually. “okay, mr. i-require-no-rest,” you take the glasses off his face and he breaks into a frown. at the childish tone you're using or for having his reading glasses taken away, you don't know.

“why don't you take a little break?” you suggest. veritas sighs, “need i remind you that dilly-dallying is for fools who wish to waste their time?” and crosses his arms defiantly. he knows your strategy, he has come face-to-face with it several times.

“do you think a break with me is a waste of time?” you present him with a rhetorical question, quite the difficult adversary.

(and he keeps losing to it every single time.)

“well, that's—” the doctor nearly splutters, taken aback. “that's different if you insist on inserting yourself as a variable,” he infers, putting emphasis on the last part accompanied by an incredulous look.

“the answer is up for debate then,” you shrug with a cheeky smile. your hand then deftly lifts the mug you previously set down to your lips, veritas's eyes dilate in bewilderment. “so,” you hum at the rich taste of your handiwork, “wanna tell me about your day? haven't heard about the council in a while.”

“you—” he gasps in defeat, “i thought that was supposed to be my mug of coffee.”

(he has a slight pout on his face, but you dare not point it out lest it disappears in the blink of an eye.)

“our mug of coffee,” you take a few more sips with an innocent decadence. “all is fair in love and war, doctor.”

“i can never win with you,” he buries his face in his palm with a groan. you laugh heartily, a sound that chimes like quaint little bells in his ears - it elicits a reaction from his lips, for them to quirk up at the corners in the smallest of ways.

“regardless. . .” veritas relents and reaches for your free hand. you let him. “it seems a break wouldn't be so amiss, after all,” he then presses a kiss on the side of your wrist, affectionate.

(your heart skips a beat.)

will you let sunday regale you with facts you've never heard of before? . . . a man of eloquent words, no less a man of educated mind. you have no doubt that the books in the dewlight pavilion really aren't just there for show - not that you're allowed to browse through them at your own desire. a servant's voice would stop you in your tracks should your fingers ever brush against something in the family's secret bookshelf.

how mysterious.

but sunday makes it known to the staff that you, in particular, are allowed more access to the shelves - perhaps, not too much - but more than even mr. mccoy, at least. with the way you have to crane your neck far up to pinpoint the tallest height that the shelves reach, you wonder: has sunday gone through everything here personally?

your immediate answer is most likely. you know sunday fairly well; to have something that he hasn't scrutinized from the inside out in his possession will surely gnaw away at his psyche incessantly. not being in the know at all times is a looming fear for him. but of course, you have other ways to confirm the answer for yourself.

pick out a book from a shelf there, either intentional or purely arbitrary, and watch as sunday carefully traces his steps towards you. his curiosity is piqued, which topic has caught your interest this time? but he tucks it under proper cordiality. with a hand behind his back, he'd utter your name in the softest tone and ask the familiar question of “would you like to know more?” — asking for your permission to ramble, essentially — you find this tendency of his to be charming, so you nod each time.

(and he smiles when you do. a smile less refined at the edges, kinder and relaxed.)

the best place to start from is always the beginning. you think sunday agrees because he often starts by telling you the history and its origins before moving on to its impact on the galaxy, then his personal stance on the topic. it's a pattern, you notice, his ramblings have a pattern. and it's consistent every time, you might've believed he was reading off a script. and what's more? sunday is blissfully oblivious of it.

fascinating. you ponder: what kind of things you can do with this information? decisions, decisions, decisions. . . but ultimately, you opt for keeping it a secret like a treasure only you're allowed to see.

(that might be true in a way. you don't doubt that robin, his dear sister, is familiar with this side of him. does that mean he treasures you like he does her? your chest starts to feel a bit lighter.)

if you were to point it out, you fear you might never witness it again - goodness, to know that he has been displaying such foolishness or rather, what he viewed as an embarrassing freudian slip in front of you? his wings might as well resort to covering his face for good until the end of time.

as you listen to him talk (with such elegance at that), you can't help whatever tender look you have on your face. really, who would've thought the head of the oak family could be such. . . a nerd?

(you hope in secret that sunday will be more willing to show sides like these to you in the future. and that they're not a weakness at all, not when they're shared with you.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

“it looks like you're fascinated by the dreamscape nursery rhyme this time.”

sunday spares the article in your hold no further inspection. one glance at the cover and walls of memorized information rush to the front of his mind. he looks familiar with it; could it be a part of his childhood too? but then again, everything found here is within his knowledge.

“i am,” you say with intrigue, “it got me ruminating for a while.”

you meet his gaze, stumbling upon yellow irises that glimmer akin to gold under penaconian chandeliers. you think you see a hint of affection in them, swimming around your reflection like a school of fish in a pond. it makes you smile.

he smiles back, oblivious to your thoughts but returns your gesture. he asks, “how so?” and you reply without delay, “i read through it and the morbid undertone took me by surpri—”

or at least, it's supposed to be without delay until you realize sunday has stepped closer in order to peer down at the page you're holding open. and suddenly, you're extremely aware of every minute detail like how his breath brushes against the side of your cheek and how his chest rumbles as he hums in acknowledgement.

(you flush in the neck and he perceives this reaction of yours with mirth.)

“my apologies,” sunday chuckles and pulls away, “i've simply forgotten the rhyme and wished to refresh my memory.”

“somehow, i feel that isn't the case...” you mumble accusingly. that seems to amplify whatever little amusement he gets from flustering you. “oh, my dove. i can assure you that it is,” he caresses your head, a little placatingly.

most times, sunday isn't so laidback about giving affection in public — since he has an image to maintain — so you assume the fact that the servants are out and about, leaving only you and him here, plays a role in his unusual boldness. you accept the gesture with a bashful pout.

“now, where were we?” sunday clears his throat, “ah, yes. some people have noted on the nursery rhyme's strange quality but still, it retains its popularity in penacony. it is also widely assumed that the hound resembles the bloodhound family while—”

you hold back an amused sigh, but it's more out of fondness than anything. he'll start from the history then the effect on the general public, as per usual, but you're not the only predictable one here. you'd listen to him anytime too, won't you?

(you do adore when the head of the oak family would put off his public figure mask around you. if only for just a while.)

will you let dan heng rest his head on your lap when it's just you two? . . . the sense of comfort it provides isn't something he can explain with words. as if he has ever been good with words in the first place. saying a sentence bereft of logical reasoning or witty remarks doesn't come easily to the express’ guard. neither does intimacy. . . but you know that already, don't you?

after all, it isn't a secret that dan heng prefers speaking with his actions. if to show one's intentions is the end goal, then actions are the fastest route to choose. words, although able to sweeten the trip like how a beautiful scenery can, will eventually lead to actions regardless so why take the extra step?

but you're different from him; you articulate what you think and what you mean. you're honest in ways that keep catching dan heng off guard without fail — just like the first time you offered your empty lap to him when his head was swirling in pain — but he supposes that is one of your charms. “words can be useful. we're not all born mind readers,” you told him once and he hummed, accepting of your perspective.

(“look at you two! opposites attract!” march chirped. he recalled shooting her a look of indignation and she rubbed the back of her head sheepishly in response.)

dan heng has learnt to grow used to your propensities - but by far, your shameless invitations are still one matter that can't be comprehended even with time. he cannot understand; how you smile as you sit on his futon in the archives (he doesn't mind), how you link gazes with him so effortlessly, how you pat your lap knowingly and say, “why don't you rest your head here?”

(he has to restrain himself from bursting into flames like a heliobus.)

sometimes, he'll accept reluctantly or he'll decline with an underlying tone of longing he doesn't want you to notice. because as much of a good hold dan heng has on nonchalance, he cannot deny that this particular gesture of yours has left a mark on him.

(it remains persistently.)

when he rests his head on your lap, he can't help but take a deep inhale - your fragrance fills his senses and he discards the selfish desire to keep it all to himself. your fingers are soothing as they thread through his hair gently. the feeling that washes over him is serene, almost comparable to submerging himself in the pure waters of scalegorge waterscape.

when overcome by such a tranquil state of mind, dan heng wonders what expression he might be making at that moment? he always keeps his eyes closed, so it's a shame he may never know. but you do, and you don't think you've ever seen him look so at peace before like he does now.

(perhaps, that's why you keep offering him this in the first place.)

✧ a moment among the stars:

“someone looks tired,” you state with a pointed stare. the archives isn't a room too spacious and the only ones here are you and him. the target of your sentence is obvious.

but dan heng doesn't take the bait, barely looks away from the entry he is currently authoring. still, he spares you a glance and hums glibly, “are you projecting? if so, feel free to use my bed in the meantime.”

you let out a noise, something gibberish that conveys disappointment but it is effectively drowned out by the typing noises. “you haven't even touched the food i bought you,” your voice becomes mellow, “why don't you rest for a while?”

he isn't convinced, you think, since his fingers are still hard at work. the new info the team brought back must've been a lot if he's that focused.

“dan heng?” you try again, hopeful for the last time. you don't take him for a fool, of course, he'll know when he reaches his limit and have proper rest then. but would that really be ideal? a second passes and that hope flickers like a dimming light. but just an inch before the edge of giving up, the typing slows to a stop.

“. . .alright,” he murmurs. finally, after a good hour spent drawing patterns on his backside with your eyes, dan heng turns around to face you. he look tense, you note with abject concern.

“here,” you usher him to your lap, empty and conveniently so. dan heng shoots you a blank look - this isn't the first time you offered and this isn't the first time he reacted like that. you try to suppress a laugh, failing gloriously at it. “just for a little bit,” you utter through a stifled fit of chuckles.

dan heng shakes his head, not in rejection but in defeat. his eyes slip close, second nature, as he leans to situate his head on your lap. you welcome him with a hum and let your fingers card through his hair. a calm sigh falls from his lips like a water droplet in springtime.

“this. . . is nice,” he admits, sudden and unprompted. you nearly doubt your ears for a moment there. did he— “i don't hate it is, uhm, what i mean to say,” dan heng adds and it dawns on you that your ears are still working. his eyes are still closed, not that you'd expect anything else, he prefers to treat it as a shield from being face-to-face with embarrassment.

(or to avoid your ecstatic gaze. he can feel warmth rushing to his cheeks already.)

“i know,” you smile, brushing away a few messy strands from his forehead. he isn't an open book but you think you've read the pages enough to remember all the little details. “but thanks for telling me. i'm no mind reader but i think i can read yours pretty well.”

“i shall provide no further comment,” he holds back an incredulous exhale, yet his lips still curl slightly at the corner. you feel the teeniest desire to trace the curve of his lips with your fingertip but settle for silently admiring them instead.

“it's fine. i know the answer already,” you say, words dripping with affection. such a shame dan heng never looks up at you during a time like this. because if he did, he wouldn't have missed seeing the sheer fondness in your gaze that rains down on him in light showers. a true shame.

(one day, he'll gather the courage. maybe.)

— thank you for reading! reblogs with comments are most appreciated. ♡

[missmatchablossom]

summary: you finally got hired to work as a teacher for your dream school, jujutsu high. everything was perfect until you ran into gojo satoru, your first love and heartbreak.

a/n: angst + fluff, female reader. this is the first time I've written a story more on the angsty side, so please let me know if you like it : ) I was feeling angsty after listening to eternal sunshine and bam this story suddenly came to me

tags: @kenqki @sad-darksoul

~

When you caught a glance at that familiar shade of blue, you froze. That specific hue was a color you avoided at all costs, the color of heartbreak and dreams you never followed.

He looked at you, and suddenly you were 18 again. It was simultaneously the best and worse year of your life; the year you fell in love with Satoru, and the year he left you. 

Your heartbeat felt sickening in your own chest as he walked towards you, his eyes widened and jaw slacked as if he were in a trance. Like he hadn’t expected to see you again.

It’s not like you thought you’d see him again either. You had told yourself that even if you did, it wouldn’t hurt, because you’d moved on. It had been years since you gave up on him, so you should be feeling nothing as your first love came to a halt in front of you, gazing at you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him.

It didn’t feel like nothing, though. It felt a whole like despair, relief, and joy warring with each other, causing your fingertips to tremble as if your body couldn’t decide which emotion to settle on.

“Long time no see, Gojo,” you said, attempting to offer a warm smile. Though the tremulous note to your voice must have betrayed how you were truly feeling.

He frowned ever so slightly when you said his name, like he wasn’t used to you calling him by his last name. It was formal and cold - when things between you two used to be anything but. 

“You’re here,” he said, though it sounded like he was saying it to himself rather than talking to you. 

“Ah, Gojo. I see you’ve met our newest hire. She’ll be working with your students for the summer, I imagine you two will be working together closely,” the principal said. But Gojo wasn’t looking at him. You still felt the heavy weight of his gaze, like he was scared you’d disappear if he looked away.

“Why don’t you two grab lunch together? Gojo can catch you up on his students,” the principal said. So why did your body go rigid at his harmless suggestion?

“Sorry, I have to make a phone call during lunch! Gojo, feel free to email me any details I need to know,” you said quickly, smiling before you darted towards the courtyard.

You cursed yourself for running away, like a coward. What was there to be afraid of? He was someone you loved years ago, and time washed away any lingering feelings you had for him…right? 

At least that’s what you’d always told yourself. But maybe deep down, you feared some of those feelings would never go away. And that they’d definitely resurface if you let yourself be near him, if you let yourself remember how much he used to mean to you. How badly he hurt you.

You shook your head, hoping the crisp morning air would wash some sense into you. This position was your dream job, and you weren’t gonna let your past demons take that away from you. You could be civil, you could work with him like the mature adult you were. It would be okay.

~

“I wonder if our new teach would tell me where she gets her lipgloss?” Nobara asked aloud, walking in step with Yuji and Megumi as they filed out of the classroom.

“She’s really pretty,” Yuji said, smiling cheesily. It was a buzz amongst all the students actually, how beautiful the newest teacher was. The students warmed up to her quickly, captivated by her knowledge and how easy she was to talk to. 

“Gojo always looks like he’s in a trance whenever he sees her,” Megumi said, making his two companions snap their attention to him.

“Do you think they’re dating?!” Nobara nearly yelled, her eyes widening comically.

“Maybe not. They both look kinda sad when they look at each other and they think the other person isn’t looking,” Megumi noted, looking deep in thought.

“Woah, you’re so observant. Maybe they’re exes, I heard they knew each other when they were younger,” Yuji said.

“Eh? No way sensei could pull someone like her,” Nobara said.

~

Two weeks have passed since you began teaching, and you loved it. Plus, you’d managed to have as minimal contact with Gojo as possible. Things would be fine after all.

You stepped into the teacher’s lounge, eager to grab your bag and head back home now that the day was over. But your bag wasn’t on the hook where you usually hung it up. When you turned around however, Gojo was leaning against the doorframe, taking up nearly the entire frame.

“Can I help you with something, Gojo?” you asked politely, willing your heart to settle down at his proximity.

“Can we talk?” he asked, and there it was again. The inexplicable feeling that swarmed your senses whenever you heard the sound of his voice, no matter what he was saying. Your traitorous body responded to it no matter how much you told it not to.

“Um, tomorrow might be better during our free period! I’m actually looking for my…” you began, stopping your sentence as Gojo used two fingers to effortlessly lift your heavy bag.

“I’ll give this back to you when you agree to have dinner with me. Tonight,” he said, flashing a boyish smile at you that was oh so painfully familiar. 

“You can’t be serious,” you said, crossing your arms as Gojo took another step towards you. He was so close, and much taller than you remembered. He seemed to take up the entirety of the room you were in, making it harder to breathe and think clearly.

“I thought you knew me better than that, tea. I absolutely am,” he drawled, and the butterflies in your stomach swarmed at the mention of his old nickname for you. Hearing it used to fill you with love and light, because he began calling you the endearment after learning how much you adored tea. He’d often show up at your door with your favorite drinks, happily indulging in your obsession. 

You blinked the memory away, refocusing your gaze back to the man in front of you. 

“This isn’t funny,” you said, reaching towards your bag. He lifted it up and out of your reach easily.

“What isn’t funny is how you’ve been avoiding me since you got here. Why can you barely look me in the eye?” he said, the slight hurt in his voice hitting your heart. Your eyes darted around the room in a panic before you answered.

“Can you really blame me? We don’t have the best history,” you said, your voice coming off harsher than you intended. 

“That’s what I want to clear up. Just hear me out this once, please,” he said, his tone softening as he spoke. You hated it, how quickly you could feel yourself giving into him. After a beat of silence, you spoke.

“Just this once,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. 

There it was. That familiar, triumphant upturn of his lips. 

~

You second guessed your choice as you walked towards Gojo’s car - a sleek, navy luxury car you remember he’d gotten for his 18th birthday. But there was no way he didn’t have other cars by now, so you couldn’t help but wonder if he picked this car today on purpose.

He swiftly opened the door to the passenger seat, allowing you to slip in before he slid into the drivers seat.

There was something undeniably intimate about being alone in the car with him. Being in such close quarters meant you could smell the cologne clinging to his skin, the minty remnants of the mints he always carried with him. You felt bespelled watching his long fingers wrap around the wheel, blushing as he wrapped his arm around your headrest and leaned towards you to look behind him as he backed out of the spot. 

A memory flooded towards you. Of a freshly 18-year old Gojo excitedly picking you up in his shiny new car, nearly getting you into a car crash as he carelessly spun the wheel in his excitement. You’d given him a firm talking to about him being careful, and he smiled at you sheepishly before he walked you to get ice cream. 

The sound of buttons clicking pulled you from your reverie. You watched wordlessly as Gojo set the seat warmer to the lowest setting and turned the ac up to 71, the exact settings you used to switch them to whenever you were his passenger princess.

“Is that still how you like it?” he asked, casting you a quick sideways glance before returning his eyes to the road. You wondered if you imagined the hopeful note to his voice.

“Yes,” you answered quietly. 

Oh , I definitely still like it, you thought, eyes roaming across Gojo’s figure as he drove. His seat was leaned back to make room for his long legs, and he kept one hand on the wheel as he drove with the elegant ease he must’ve developed in your time apart. It was stupid, how attracted you still were to him.

You didn’t miss the way Gojo glanced at you ogling him, the corner of his lip tipping up like it so pleased him.

~

You followed Gojo into a gorgeous restaurant that you were undoubtedly underdressed for. A smartly dressed man greeted the two of you immediately, leading you to a table right in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows. It offered you a gorgeous view of the skyline, the soft glow of the sunset making the silverware sparkle. 

You couldn’t help but look around in confusion at the quietness of the restaurant - save for the nice host, you were the only ones there.

“I booked out the place for the night. So we could catch up in peace,” Gojo said easily, as if that were something normal to do. You couldn’t say you were too surprised though, as he had the same penchant for spending and the fortune to back it since he was younger.

“Of course you did,” you said, shaking your head as you smiled to yourself.

Gojo leaned forward in his seat, studying you like you just performed magic.

“I’ve missed that smile of yours,” he said softly. It wasn’t fair, the way the last bits of sunshine of the day lit up the gold  flecks in his eyes. The way his hair nearly shone silver, making him look otherworldly as he told you he missed you. 

“I don’t know what to say to you, Gojo,” you said, forcing neutrality into your tone. But as soon as you spoke the words, you could hear how sad they sounded.

“Do you hate me?” he asked, sounding like his younger self once more. 

You met his eyes, releasing a deep breath as you did your best to offer a smile.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you,” you admitted, watching the way his shoulders eased ever so slightly.

“But you hurt me,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

“I was ready to stick out long distance when you moved away. You stopped answering my calls, responding to my letters. I tried reaching you for months before I gave up, Gojo. There was no goodbye, no explanation. What was I supposed to think? How do you expect me to greet you with a smile now as if nothing happened?” you said, your voice cracking towards the end. 

“I know we were 18 and stupid, but I…” 

I loved you. You were everything to me. And no matter how much time had past, how much you dated around, no one ever compared to you.

You shook your head, unable to get the words out.

It would forever be fresh in your mind, the day you found out Gojo was being shipped off to a different country by his stupid family to train. 

The devastation was overwhelming. You curled up in your room, crying into your pillow as Gojo sat silently on the edge of your bed.

“Do you really have to go?” you sniffed, though it didn’t sound like that, with your throat clogged with tears.

Gojo laid beside you, pulling your back to his chest as he held you and buried his face in your hair.

“I don’t have a choice, tea. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking off at the end. You turned around, wrapping your arms around him as he held you brusingly tight. You rubbed his back as you felt his tears hit your shoulder.

After the cry you both needed, you faced each other silently, as if you were committing each other to memory.

“I won’t give up on us. I’ll call you everyday to bug the hell out of you,” he said, giving you the first lopsided smile of the night.

“For how long, though?” you said sadly, feeling the hope leeching out of you with each word you said aloud.

“For as long as it takes for me to become the strongest. And for you to become the teacher you’ve always wanted to be. I’ll come back for you,” he promised, lacing his long fingers through yours. There was hope alight in those eyes of his, convincing your own hope to stay.

“You promise?” you asked, sounding so much more like a young child than you wished.

“I promise.” he said, and you kissed him then. There was something so magnetic about him, the type of person that made you want to believe anything was possible. But you hadn’t known that would be the last time you kissed.

You had no way of knowing that your boyfriend would keep up with his promise for a month, and then suddenly leave you with nothing. He stopped responding to your letters, stopped his calls, stopped reminding you how much he loved you. The only time you ever heard about him was when the news featured his growing talents.

The sound of Gojo’s voice ripped you away from the memory.

“You have every right to be upset with me,” he began, his cerulean eyes betraying his grief.

“Was there someone else?” you asked before you could think better, cursing yourself.

“No,” he said forcefully, wincing like it hurt him for you to think that.

“There was never anyone else. Never,” he said, and you couldn’t help the relief flooding your chest.

“They got in my head about you. Convinced me that I was holding you back, that you could never focus on school enough to become a teacher good enough to teach at Jujutsu High if you were in a long distance relationship with me. I thought I was doing what was best for you,” he said, his voice low and regretful as he spoke. 

The man across from you blurred as tears filled your vision. You spent months agonizing over the possible reasons he would abandon your relationship, and your young, heartbroken self was convinced it had something to do with you. That he found someone, and suddenly you weren't his cup of tea anymore. Never did it cross your mind that he thought he was doing you a favor by ghosting you.

“God, Gojo. Why didn’t you just talk to me?” you cried, doing nothing to mask the grief in your voice. 

“I knew you’d tell me that it was incredibly stupid of me. And I know it was now, but back then I thought it would be easier if I made the choice for you. You deserved to have your full focus on pursuing teaching,” he said solemnly, lifting a hand towards your face as if he were going to wipe your tears, but laying his hand back down like he thought against it.

“You’re right, that was incredibly stupid of you,” you said, heaving a deep breath as your swiped the last of your tears.

“But I get why you did it. I just wish you would’ve included me in that choice, because you know what I thought? I thought if you could discard me, discard us that easily, that I must’ve not meant as much to you as you meant to me. That you didn’t love me as much as I loved you,” you said shakily, a single traitorous tear falling down your cheek.

Your emotions overwhelmed you as you saw his eyes begin to shine with unshed tears - a sight that hurt you as much as it did when you were both 18.

“I never stopped loving you,” he said, his voice hushed as he made the confession.

It felt like you were no longer in your own body as emotions assaulted you all at once. Happiness, relief, confusion, devastation. They warred with each other, and you didn’t know if the burst of nerves you were feeling was panic or excitement.

“You don’t mean that. Maybe you still love who I was when I was 18, but things are different now. I’m different,” you said, watching as Gojo shook his head softly.

“You’re right. You have become even more beautiful than I remember,” he began, and you knew you had lost. This wasn’t a game, but somehow you still lost.

“I’ve seen the way you work with the kids. I’m in awe of how confident and capable you’ve become. But I’ve also seen what hasn’t changed,” he said, leaning towards you with the light back in his eyes.

“Your tenacity. Your kindness. Your intelligence. Your drive. The way your eyes light up when you teach, the way you see the best in people. That’s how I fell in love with you, and I know thats still there,” he said, looking at you with the kind of reverence you forgot existed.

You closed your eyes as you failed at calming your thunderous heart. 

“I can’t do this, Gojo. I can’t put myself in a position to be hurt by you again,” you said, casting your eyes down in your lap. You couldn’t bear to see defeat in his eyes.

You jolted as you felt the soothing, painfully familiar touch of his hand over yours. 

“Look at me,” he pleaded softly, coaxing your eyes back towards his. When you met them again, they were filled with warmth, and you believed it. That he still loved you.

“You don’t owe me anything. I’ll stay out of your way if that’s what you want. But I’m not taking back what I said. I’ve loved you since before you were mine. And I always will.” He finished you off by lifting your hand to his lips, a gesture you were still a used to be a sucker for.

~

In the days that followed, Gojo consumed your every thought. It didn’t help that you worked so closely, and it especially didn’t help to see how good he was with the students. He goofed around with them more than a normal teacher would, but he taught them earnestly. No matter how much they complained about his antics, you could tell your students loved him.

It also didn’t help when he began leaving your favorite milk tea on your desk before the start of every school day, earning you a “wow teach, you must really love that tea shop,” comment from Yuji.

It was slightly embarrassing, but you couldn’t deny how much it brightened your day to see that cup of tea sitting on your desk, knowing how much Gojo still thought of you. And it didn’t stop at tea.

Over the course of the next month, your favorite flowers began showing up with your tea. Sometimes, instead of flowers it was your favorite candy. Gojo never lingered around to hand them to you himself, just giving you sweet smiles and waves whenever you locked eyes. You knew it was his way of giving you space to choose, and no matter how cheesy it was, it was working.

~

It was about 3 months after that dinner that you found yourself sitting with the principal for your quarterly one-on-one. You were pleased to hear the praises of your work and the positive feedback he’d received from students regarding you, but something in particular he said had you shaken up.

“I knew you and Gojo would work well together. You both had very moving reasons for wanting to teach here,” he said casually.

“Moving reasons?” you pressed, feeling like you were on the verge of something.

“Oh, yes. I was highly impressed by your years of dedication and experience, you were an obvious choice. But Gojo didn’t have much teaching experience when I hired him, it was really his reason for teaching that sold me on him,” he answered. And you didn’t know why, but your pulse grew uncomfortably quick.

“He told me that teaching helped him feel close to someone he loved. And that person taught him how powerful a good teacher could be,” the principal said. There was a beat of silence, followed by the screeching sound your chair made and you sat up suddenly. You apologized and excused yourself, rushing towards a certain office door.

Your movements were too quick for your thoughts to catch up. You just knew you had to see him.

He wasn’t in his office. Not in his classroom, not in the teacher’s lounge. That sickening panic began invading your senses, reminding you that it wasn’t the first time you desperately searched for Gojo and couldn’t find him.

But you pushed past it and kept walking. You walked until you reached the outer edge of campus, spotting a flash of silver hair atop a hill that overlooked the school. 

You ran towards it like your life depended on it, huffing and puffing until you finally locked gazes with the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen. Though the eyes that normally regarded you with warmth were unusually widened with concern as Gojo ran towards you.

“Hey, whats going on-”

“Why did you become a teacher?” you said, struggling to catch your breath. Gojo looked stunned for a second, staring at you silently as he waited for you to continue.

“Why did you decide to work for Jujutsu High, out of all the high schools in Japan?” you continued, watching as his expression turned pensive. But his eyes shone with all the words he’d yet to say.

“I didn’t intend on becoming a teacher. I just gave it a shot one day, because I knew how passionate you were about it. And I loved it,” he said, staring out wistfully towards the lecture halls.

“As for why I picked Jujutsu High,” he began, turning his body towards you again. He walked to you, stopping until there was barely a step of space between your bodies. 

“I picked it because I knew this was your dream school to work at. I hoped I would see you again if I worked here,” he admitted, smiling sadly. You shook your head in disbelief.

“This was my dream school when I was 18. What if I changed my mind and worked somewhere else? What if I didn’t even become a teacher?” you said frantically, searching for a crack in his resolve.

Gojo reached out, cupping your cheek in his hand. You had no choice but to tilt your head up to meet his, feeling new emotions flooding you at the look in his eyes.

“Doesn’t matter. The thought of seeing you again is what has kept me going all these years. Even if I mean nothing to you now,” he breathed, removing his hand from your cheek. He stepped away from you, giving you the space you realized you no longer wanted.

You didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry at this new revelation. But you did know one thing; you wanted Gojo Satoru. You wanted another shot with him.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him tightly and burying your face into his chest. He smelled like mint and summer and everything good with the world as his arms immediately came up to hold you to him.

He released a shaky breath as he held you, like he couldn’t believe he’d get to do it again.

“Of course you still mean something to me,” you whispered through tears you didn’t realize you were shedding. Gojo gently pulled back from your hug, capturing both your face between his hands. He swiped his thumbs gently against your tears, that reverent, warm gaze back in those eyes of his.

“What should I make of that, tea?” he asked, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear. You realized how much you missed his touch, how you’ve longed to feel his smooth, porcelain skin against yours again.

“You’re gonna have to work reallyyyy hard if you want me to fall in love with you again,” you said, smiling as his eyes widened and his jaw slacked.

Liar. It wouldn’t take much at all.

“You’re giving me another chance?” he said incredulously. You nodded shyly, smiling as Gojo awarded you with the most brilliant, heart-stopping smile. The kind that crinkled his eyes at the corners, the kind that stretched his cheeks, the kind that you had no choice but to mirror.

The breath left your body as Gojo lifted you up by your hips, swinging you around in a circle like the last scene of a Disney movie where the prince and princess reunited. 

It felt like a weight was released from your shoulders as he spun you around, the two of you laughing like teenagers again.

“Thank you,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

~

“They have to be dating, there’s no way they’re not!” Nobara exclaimed, walking to get food with the other first years after class.

“Gojo sensei follows her around like a puppy. I could actually see hearts in his eyes when he looks at her! I swore I even heard her call him Toru,” Yuji said, him and Nobara nodding to each other intently.

“Maybe. Our new teacher has been looking really happy lately,” Megumi said.

[runnning-outof-time]

The Joys of Being a Girl Dad | Tommy Shelby & Alfie Solomons (set in Girl Dad series)

Request: no - written for @justrainandcoffee ‘s 2 year ‘Alfieversary’

Pairing: Tommy Shelby (x Reader mentioned) & Alfie Solomons (x fem!OC & child OC mentioned)

Summary: Tommy stops by Margate to congratulate an old associate…adversary…friend.

Warnings: language (it’s Tommy and Alfie we’re talking about here), a slight bit of Cyril slander

A/N: I’m sorry it took me soooo long to write something for your celebration, Flor!! I guess I could call this a present for Rose’s 1 year anniversary too now, even though she’s not really in it. Thank you for sharing this beautiful au with us!!

A/N 2: I should also say that this story was supposed to be shorter, but I just kinda became invested and ran away with it…I hope you don’t mind. Also it’s been a bit since I’ve written for Alfie, so I hope he’s not too ooc here. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! — YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!

“Who let you in?” the man who was sitting facing the open balcony door asked.

“How’d you know it was me?” the other man, who was standing at the entrance of the room, responded with his own question.

“Smelt the smoke and horse shit the second you stepped through that archway,” the first man mused, earning a snort from the second. “So I’ll ask again: who let you in?”

“Your wife…”

“Figures she did,” the first man cut the second off, muttering the comment under his breath.

“Your wife’s assistant let me in after she told me to get lost and slammed the door in my face,” the rest of the statement was shared, which made the first man finally spin in his seat to look back towards the archway.

Silence hung in the air for a few moments, the two men staring at each other from several paces away…much like they had on that fated day all those months ago. “So why didn’t ya listen to her?” the first man finally broke the quiet, his quip conjoined with a look of query.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Alfie?” the second man asked, his eyebrows just slightly raised.

“It has,” the first man nodded, pursing his lips together for a moment before he continued, “yet it is still sooner than the day in which I thought I’d see Tommy Shelby again.”

Tommy Shelby just shook his head at the man’s remark, looking at the ground as he pursed his lips. It didn’t faze him in the slightest.

“Why’re you here then?” Alfie asked, still wanting to get to the bottom of the Birmingham man’s presence. However, he interjected again before said man even had the chance to speak: “you’ve come to finish me off, haven’t ya? Since ya couldn’t get it right the first time.”

“I’ve come with something,” Tommy answered, not even bothering to respond to Alfie’s second comment.

He then stepped towards the chair that the other man was sitting in, his hands still behind his back. Anyone else would have wondered if maybe they’d got it right…maybe he was actually there to finish his old adversary off. But Alfie wasn’t bothered in the slightest. No, he could tell from the manner in which Tommy approached him.

“I want to offer a congratulations…on your daughter,” Tommy finished his statement once he was standing in front of Alfie. Alfie looked him over with raised eyebrows, wondering just how a busy, business-minded man like him would have gotten such information. “(Y/N) told me the news. She got word of it from Rose,” Tommy gave the curious man some more information.

“That Rosie…” Alfie mused with a slight shake of his head, “I had a feelin’ that she hadn’t cut off all contact with you Shelbys.” He couldn’t help but smile at the thought of his wife still keeping up a regular correspondence with the wife of the man who’d shot him.

(Y/N) and Rose had hit it off practically from the moment they met each other. Their friendship went beyond their husbands’ business partnership, and so when one disgruntled husband aimed a gun at the other and pulled the trigger, the two women tried hard not to let it come completely between them. There some time where radio silence prevailed…actually most out the time over the course of the last year was filled with radio silence, but it didn’t seem like a beat was missed when Rose contacted (Y/N) to tell her of the newest addition to the Solomons family.

Although Tommy was more hesitant to make amends, he couldn’t deny his wife’s request to deliver something to the newest Solomons.

“She wanted me to give you this,” Tommy then said, finally revealing the tan, stuffed rabbit that he’d brought with him. “To give to her,” he included, making his intentions more clear.

“I knew you weren’t givin’ me a stuffed rabbit,” Alfie quipped, snorting to himself before continuing, “or at least I hope you were plannin’ to.”

“I wasn’t planning on doing that, Alfie, no,” Tommy shook his head, dismissing the comment before it gained any ground. “The rabbit’s for your girl.”

Alfie took a moment to look over the other man again. He was still holding the rabbit out in front of him, waiting for Alfie to take it. Tommy wondered how long Alfie was going to make him stand like this.

Finally he took it. “She’ll like it,” Alfie stated, eyeing over the animal from close up now. He couldn’t deny that it felt soft in his hands. Allie would surely love it. “Thanks, Tommy.”

“My three couldn’t go to bed without it,” Tommy commented, a small smile gracing his lips as he thought of his three daughters and the love they had for that very stuffed rabbit.

A look of realization flashed across Alfie’s face as he heard Tommy’s comment. He brought his hand up to his jaw and ran it down his cheek slowly, stroking his beard as if he was in thought. “Have a seat,” he then said, gesturing to the chair that was set directly across from the one he was sitting in. He waited until the other man was seated before continuing, “three girls, huh?” he mused, sounding like he was talking more so to himself than anything.

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded in response.

“A proper girl dad,” Alfie commented then.

“A what?” Tommy asked with furrowed eyebrows.

“You’re a dad that’s got all girls, hence the fucking term girl dad…stick with it, Tommy,” the response came laden with derision.

Tommy raised his eyebrows at the other man’s comments, looking to the ground as he let the air cool off before he cleared his throat and nodded his head. “Yeah, a girl dad then.” He ran a hand along the back of his head as he spoke, wondering if he was even using the term correctly. Alfie didn’t comment, so he guessed that he didn’t seem to care none.

Instead the newer father continued on with the conversation. “Does it ever get hard?”

“What? Being a girl dad?” Tommy looked over at him again.

“No, not being able to hit your fucking mark when you’re fifteen fucking paces away,” Alfie retorted, “yes, being a girl dad,” he then exaggerated his words.

Tommy bit his tongue yet again. He wasn’t here to get into a fight with Alfie Solomons. The rabbit currently sitting in the other man’s lap was supposed to serve as a sort of olive branch.

“It does,” he finally answered after a moment’s pause.

“Give me some fuckin’ detail, mate,” Alfie asked.

“Fuckin’ hell, Alfie,” Tommy sighed under his breath, pressing the pads of his thumbs against his eyelids. He cleared his throat again as he thought of how he’d answer the question. “It’s been hard from the moment we brought Thea home. A different sort of hard than the ‘hard’ I’ve experienced prior. But it’s also been rewarding...with Thea, then Evie and now Juniper. I’ve learned more from them than from anything else I’ve ever done.”

Alfie took a moment to digest what his confidant had just shared with him. He truly didn’t expect Tommy Shelby to come out with such meaningful statements. I guess even the worst of men can change their tones, he thought to himself. “I didn’t know ya had it in ya, Tommy,” he commented, exuding a breath of a laugh as he shook his head.

Tommy kept his eyes locked on Alfie unsure of how to respond to his comment. He wondered if this was all some sort of game…if Alfie now wanted to toy with him; getting him to open up just to use the information against him.

“Thanks for sharing it though. I, uh…” Alfie paused, the sound of his voice cutting through Tommy’s thoughts and making him focus in again. “I’ll take all of the help I can get with this one. They say that raising a child takes a fucking village, or however that fucking saying goes.”

“There’s a great deal of joy in it too,” Tommy made sure to add, hoping to convey that having daughters, or kids at all for that matter, wasn’t only stressful. “I just know that I wouldn’t be able to do it without (Y/N) though.”

“That’s the same with me and my Rosie. A fuckin’ trooper, that woman is,” Alfie agreed in regards to his wife. Truthfully, he wouldn’t be here right now if it weren’t for Rose Solomons. He genuinely owed his life to her…and he was going to spend the rest of it showing her.

Silence fell between the two men then, both sitting comfortably in their thoughts of the women they had in their lives, and of how much their respective wives meant to them. The silence hung until the sound of small feet came pattering off of the hardwood in the hallway.

“Daddy! Daddy!” a shrill voice of a small girl soon accompanied the hurried footsteps. Said girl quickly appeared in the archway of Alfie office. Along with her frantic demeanor, Alfie was also able to see streaks of tears on her chreks.

“What’s wrong, Allie?” he asked her, his brows furrowing together.

“Cyril chewed on my stuffie, daddy!” she exclaimed, hiccuping as she spoke through her tears. “It was my favorite stuffie!”

“Awe now love, I’m sorry about that,” Alfie began, opening his arms to the child as she came over to him. She quickly fell into them, and he wasted no time in hugging her tightly. “He’s just a brute that knows nothing of favorite stuffies,” he consoled her as she continued to sniffle her tears away.

Tommy watched on as the moment played out in front of him. He laughed to himself as hearing the reason behind the problem at hand took him back to the moments where Cyril had chewed his girls’ stuffies; there had to have been several instances during the dog’s stay at Arrow House.

“I don’t have a stuffie now, daddy,” Allie whimpered, finally lifting her head from her father’s chest. “Mum said it was too covered in slobber to be saved.”

“Well I’ve got just the fix for ya, Allie,” Alfie began, unwrapping one of his arms from her so that he could blindly search for the stuffed rabbit that Tommy had just handed him. He continued when he found the animal, “now I know it’s no bear, and I know that your favorite stuffies have all been bears, but this lovely little lass was just placed upon my lap moments before you came runnin’ in.”

Allie’s eyes immediately found the rabbit, and she had it in her tight embrace within an instant. “This stuffie is so soft! And she has a lovely bow!” she observed, now beaming with excitement. “Thank you so much, daddy!” she smiled at her father.

“Thanks have to go to that man,” Alfie told his daughter, nodding in Tommy’s direction. He bit his tounge and stopped the urge to add ‘the one who shot your father’ because even he knew this wasn’t the time for that. He didn’t want to bring that feud into Allie’s realm.

“What’s his name?” Allie asked in a loud whisper, her shy eyes finding Tommy’s.

“Tell ‘er your name, mate,” Alfie beckoned Tommy to share the information.

“It’s Tommy,” the other man followed suit, smiling as he spoke.

Allie observed him for a moment, surely trying to decide what she felt about him. A few beats of silence passed before a smile formed on her face. “Thank you, Mr. Tommy,” she said in a small voice.

“You’re welcome, Allie,” Tommy nodded, his smile widening.

“Dad you have to yell at Cyril now,” Allie turned back to her dad, a deep frown present on her face.

“I’ll make sure he knows what he’s done,” Alfie assured her, “go play, love.”

With one last smile, Allie hopped off of her father’s lap and exited the room almost as quick as she entered it.

“That fuckin’ dog…” Alfie trailed off, shaking his head, “why’d you give him back?”

“You wanted him back, Alfie,” Tommy answered in a monotone voice.

“You may be right,” Alfie conceded, cracking a smile as he thought about the dog.

“Your daughter’s lovely,” Tommy commented.

“She is, ain’t she?” Alfie answered, “light of my fuckin’ life, that girl…both her and her mum.”

Tommy nodded, his mind going to his wife and daughters. There was no doubt that he shared the same sentiment towards his girls.

Oh, the joys of being a girl dad…even if — or rather when, because it’ll surely happen again — Tommy and Alfie were at odds with each other, they’ll always have the shared title as something they can both relate to.

MASTERLIST

The Story of Rose and Alfie

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @theshelbyslimited

@peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss

@alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl

@emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife

@anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @jomarch-wannabe @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo

[veronicaphoenix]

let me worship you | samurai!noah

Summary: She's curious about Noah's skills when it comes to binding prisoners and restraining... her, so she asks him to teach her. Noah is just trying to be a good instructor, considering skills with the rope might be practical for her, but his princess is a minx and her intentions are a bit mischievous.

can be read as a one shot ✨ but it's part of the samurai!noah fic™ (this takes place before the main storyline) pairing: samurai!noah x his princess | words: 3.4k tags & trigger warnings: set in feudal Japan, forbidden love, clandestine rendezvous, references to f/m intercourse (p in v, unprotected), shibari (bondage, rope play), dry humping.

“You wanted me to teach you, and I’m going to teach you properly. You don’t need to be naked for that.” “Are you sure?”

Author's note: Everybody say "thank you, @somebodyels3" because this was her idea. I just turned her 100 words into 3k. I hope everybody learns something from this piece and that we all go to bed knowing how to tie a handcuff knot... for protection purposes, ofc.

Also, i just edited this very quickly because I wanted to share it tonight, so there might be a bunch of typos. Sorry.

Tagging the beautiful @thescarlettvvitch because she likes to read my stories before bedtime. 🥹

It was just an innocent question. 

            A question that spurred from curiosity about his mastery of ropes and his ease in tying intricate knots in mere minutes.

            When I asked Noah to teach me how to perform those knots, I was still lying on the mattress in my grandmother’s village house. It was past midnight, and I had spent the last half-hour at Noah’s mercy, my hands tied while resting on my own stomach as Noah, kneeling between my legs, held my thighs and penetrated me again and again until, with a contained roar, emptied himself, his release coating my skin.

            I hadn’t yet cleaned myself when, somewhat composed, he allowed my feet to touch the softness of the mattress again and approached my side to untie my hands. 

            First, he inquired about my well-being, deftly unwinding the red rope from one wrist and then the other with his fingers. I responded affirmatively after he gave me a concerned look for my intial silence, as I had been captivated by watching him untie me. Then, he gently massaged my wrists. And that’s when I posed the question. 

            “Would you teach me how to tie those knots?”

            He appeared puzzled, but persuasion wasn’t difficult. 

            When he inquired why I wanted to learn and how I thought I could benefit from them, I shrugged, though I managed to coax him with mentions about the value of knowledge in general and how they might be practical in certain situations, perhaps even for my own protection. 

            Before long, he was between my legs with a cotton towel, wearing a silly grin as he cleaned me, his head shaking from side to side. It was as if he knew I was relentless and wouldn’t cease pestering him until I was content. Because I was aware there was nothing he wouldn’t do for me, and sometimes, as selfish as it seemed, I took advantage of that. 

            “It’s also time that I worship you too, isn’t it?”

            At those words, he froze. His gaze traveled from my core to my eyes. I blinked a few times, feigning innocence, as if I hadn’t been begging him just minutes earlier to be rougher with me because he was always so gentle, treating me as if I were made of glass. 

            “It’s getting late,” he said through clenched teeth, reminding me that our time was limited. “Stop tempting me before I cease caring whether your parents notice you’re in your bedroom or not.”

The next time we saw each other was in the small shelter nestled within the forest, a forty minute walk from my father’s estate and the same place where Noah and I had lost our virginity years before. Noah brought along the rope and offered to instruct me, his demeanour serious and determined despite my occassional mischievous smiles.

            The situation struck me as amusing because I had a singular purpose behind it all, yet Noah seemed to be approaching it way too seriously. But then again, that was typical of him, embodying the spirit of the Samurai he was. 

            His katana rested peacefully on the wooden floor beside the bed, never too far away in case he might need it. 

            “Give me your hands. I can’t teach you if I don’t actually tie you up,” he ordered.

            “Well,” I quipped, “can’t we undress? I’m thinking we could have skipped this part much earlier, considering the amount of times you’ve tied me up already, while I was naked.”

            He responded with a raised eyebrow and a reproachful gaze. 

            “You wanted me to teach you, and I’m going to teach you properly. You don’t need to be naked for that,” he asserted.

            “Are you sure?” I teased.

            “Yes,” he affirmed, holding my gaze until he saw my nod of agreement. “Now, be still and pay attention.”

            I did. I set aside the lewd thoughts, presented my wrists to Noah, and focused on how his hands presented the rope to me, then, how his fingers moved slowly to avoid disorienting me from the explanation as they wound around my wrists. 

            “You’re holding the rope like this, with one end in each hand,” he began. “Start by making a loop with the right-hand side of the rope. You want it to be about the size of your opponent’s fist. Then, take the left-hand side of the rope and wrap it around the loop, going underneath and then over the top. Make sure to leave a little bit of slack, understood?”

            I nodded, committing to memory the trajectory of each end of the rope and gripping it firmly. I remained acutely aware of every instance Noah’s fingertips brushed against my skin. 

            “Next, bring the left-hand side of the rope back around and insert it through the loop you just made, going over the top, like this. See? It creates sort of pretzel shape with the rope.”

            “It’s cute,” I commented, just a genuine thought, no mischief intended. 

            “Not as cute as you look when you’re tied up and happily at my mercy,” he replied, causing me to shoot him a scowful glare. 

            He had insisted I pay attention, and now he was interjecting with these comments. 

            With a chuckle, he pecked my nose and continued his instruction. 

            “Now comes the tricky part. Focus. You’ll want to pull on both ends of the rope, okay? Tightening everything up. As you do this,” he demonstrated, “the loop you made at the beginning will start to cinch down, forming a secure knot. Like this.” He paused to ensure it wasn’t too tight on me. I assured him it wasn’t. Only when he was certain he proceeded. “To finish it off, just make sure everything is nice and tight, and you’re done. You’ve got yourself a handcuff knot. It’s great for all sorts of things, not just to tie up a prisoner. It might come in handy if you ever need to secure a weapon, for instance.”

            I mentally reviewed the steps before nodding. I examined the knot that held my wrists together. I made attempt to free myself, a gesture I had repeated many times before to test Noah’s effectiveness and skill with the art of knots, but the knot didn’t budge an inch. 

            “Can you repeat it again, so it’s clearer to me?” I asked.

            “Of course,” he replied. 

            With the same skill but faster, he undid the knot and freed my wrists. He repeated the process of tying me up, once again indicating each step and having me verbally repeat the instructions.

            “It doesn’t seem difficult,” I mentioned.

            “It isn’t,” he confirmed, still seated on his heels in front of me. “It’s one of the easiest knots. You’ll have it mastered in no time once you practice a bit.”

            “Can I start now?”

            “With what?” he inquired, furrowing his brow genuinely. It wasn’t that he was playing dumb. It was that he literally didn’t conveice the idea that I could practive with him, that I could tie him up. 

            “With you,” I said seriously. 

            He chuckled at first, but as my seriousness sank in, his expression shifted to one of disbelief. Why did he always have to be so challenging? He arched an eyebrow at me. 

            “You want to tie me,” he clarified, more to himself than to me. “A Samurai. You want to tie up a Samurai.”

            “For practice,” I emphasized fighting back a smile that threatened to betray my intetions.

            Noah relented with a resigned sigh, muttering to himself that it was a useful skill for me to possess, so why not give it a try. 

            “How will I know if I’m doing it right if I don’t actually try? And if it’s not with you, who else can I possibly practice with? Would you prefer my first attempt to be in a life-or-death scenario?” as I noticed his expression darken at the thought of such a dire situation and the potential danger it posed to me, I knew I had him convinced.  

            “You have a point,” he conceded, though suspicion lingered in his gaze, suggesting he thought I might be enjoying this more than I let on. With some reluctance, he handed me the rope and extended his wrists, positioning them side by side. 

            I shook my head, causing Noah to furrow his brow in confusion. 

            “I should tie them at your back. If I ever find myself in such a situation, I’d likely be behind the enemy, not in front of them.”

            “If you ever find yourself in such a situation, it’ll be because I haven’t been a good enough samurai,” he replied with a hint of self-criticism.

            “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You know I don’t like it when you’re overly critical,” I gently chided. “Please, turn around.”

            “Hm. Only because you’re actually good at being persuasive…”

            He turned around to kneel with his back to me. He crossed his hands behind his back, interlocking his wrists. I flashed a wide smile as I bit my lip now that he couldn’t see me.

            “I’ll let you know if you make a mistake,” he said.

            “How will you know if I’m making a mistake when you’re facing away from me?” 

            “I know the art of knots like the back of my hand. I don’t need to watch to know if you’re doing correctly. “

            “All right…” I murmured, then couldn’t resist making an annoyed face behind his back. 

            “What was that?” he asked.

            “Nothing,” I replied innocently.

            “Don’t tempt me to turn around and tie you up completely; not just your hands—maybe your ankles too.”

            I sighed, pretending. 

            “Will you relax? Drop that Samurai attitude for a moment. Pretend you’re a captured soldier, because that’s what you are.”

            “Not yet.”

            He was fortunate I was deeply enraptured with him. Otherwise, I would have bound his hands and instead of granting him what I had in mind, I would have left him there tied up for hours without further ado. 

            It didn’t take me more than two minutes, a fact that surprised me greatly given it was my first attempt. When Noah tried to pull his wrists apart and the rope held firm, I nodded in approval, tilting my head to the side with a hum of approval and feeling a swell of pride in my chest. 

            However, the expression on Noah’s face —as he strained to look over his shoulder— told a different story.

            He had doubted my capability, and now he found himself bound and at my mercy. 

            “As I was saying, a captured soldier.”

            “Fuck,” he muttered, a compliment hidden in his words. “That’s a damn good knot.”

            “Are you impressed?”

            “Yeah, of course I—“ his words caught in his throat as my lips brushed against his nape. 

            This was the reaction I had been hoping for. 

            In mere moments, Noah would realize my true intention from the start, understanding that he had no choice but to let me take charge for the rest of our short time together that night.

            “You’re mine now,” I concluded. 

            Standing up, I circled around him, eager to witness his bewildered expression. 

            There it was. 

            He attempted to free himself once more, but soon realized the futility of his efforts. Even if he were the most cunning and well-trained samurai in my father’s army, he wouldn’t be able to break free. He had taught me himself, and I had learnt quickly. 

            “Well…” he began, still maintaining a semblance of composure, “I’ve always been yours, haven’t I?” A hint of sweetness and pride danced across his features and echoed in his voice. He never missed an opportunity to say the right things and make me melt. 

            However, the atmosphere shifted in the next few seconds.  

            “You did a good job. Let’s see if you’re as quick untying me.” 

            “No.”

            “What?”

            “I’m going to enjoy this,” I declared.

            When realization hit him, he tried to stand up. 

            Of course, having his hands bound behind his back wasn’t much of an obstacle for him. In any other situation, he would rise and find a way to free himself, using his legs to attack his adversary. 

            But today, there was no enemy in the room. 

            Only his lover.

            He might have been stronger, but I was faster. 

            Before he could fully stand, I guided him back onto his knees and straddled him, the weight of my body keeping him in place. I was certain no other foe had ever put him in such an intimate position. 

            My hands  found their way to his shoulders, and as I smiled down at him —a gesture he didn’t reciprocate as surprise, anger, and perhaps a hint of pleading flashed across his face—, I trailed my fingers along the exposed skin of his neck. 

            “Untie me. Right now,” he demanded. 

            “No,” I repeated softly, my lips tracing a path along his neck. 

            I could sense he was holding his breath.

            “I was wondering…” I began, my words barely grazing him. “If you would tell me more about your tattoos.”

            “What do you want to… know?” he managed to say after I focused on a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear.

            “Hmm. I’m curious about a few things…” I continued, trailing kisses from one side of his neck to the other, moving upward to nibble at his jaw and peck his lips once. “But I don’t remember exactly what I was curious about, so I might have to see them again.”

            With that, I leaned back slightly, my hands stealthily sliping under our bodies until they found the belt of Noah’s black kimono. He muttered my name in warning, but I paid no heed. 

            Letting the ends of the belt fall to the sides, I slid my hands up through the sides of his kimono until I grasped them and slowly moved them aside, revealing Noah’s naked torso underneath—muscles, scars, and secret tattoos.

            I couldn’t help but bite my lip again. 

            As my palm pressed against his chest, I could feel his rapid heartbeat beneath my touch. Beneath my body, I could sense his erection growing. 

            I raised my gaze back to him and I showed him a smirk and a special glint in my eyes, revealing that this had been my intention from the very beginning, and now he had no choice but to surrender to me. 

            “You’re playing a very dangerous game, young lady,” he warned, though his voice was restrained. 

            “Am I?” I questioned, my fingers tracing down the lines of the snake tattooed on his chest. 

            Bending down, I kissed the creature’s head before trailing kisses along his clavicle, then down, and down again, until I found his nipple and touched it with the tip of my tongue. 

            I noticed him close his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw, and a vein pulsing in his neck. 

            Taking a long lick at his nipple, I waited for his reaction. 

            With his hands restrained at his back and me straddling him, there wasn’t much he could do. I would do as I pleased for the remainer of the night—touch him, kiss him, adore him, and worship him until my heart was content. 

            So I traced every inch of skin, every scar, and every tattoo without feeling rushed, comitting each of his faults and perfections to memory, adoring them all the same. 

            When I kissed him on the lips, sweet yet seductive, he tried to keep me there by nibbling at my lips. But tonight, he wasn’t in control and he couldn’t deal with the idea. Tonight, he couldn’t halt my movements by seizing my wrists or flipping me over onto the mattress to devour me. 

            He could only let me do.

            And I would do. 

            There was a spot under his clavicle that would hold a love bite for days, a reminder of the promise that my love held. Nobody would see it, but it would be there—a temporary tattoo made not by a needle, but by the suction of his lover’s mouth. 

            As I tended to him, I sensed him trying to find a weakness in the knot, but there was none. That’s what happens when you’re the best at tying knots and you teach your girl, I suppose. I wanted to tell him that, but I couldn’t wait any longer to see how aroused he’d become. 

            Sliding my hands down his chest, I found the bulge in his pants. When my hand pressed against it, palming it and feeling it pulsate beneath, his voice emerged hard and restrained, as if in pain.

            “Don’t.”

            “But where’s the fun, then?” I countered.

            “I swear to the Gods, if you even think…”

            But as he uttered those words, I freed hiscock and watched in awe at how hard it was. 

            “What do you swear to the Gods?” I asked, my eyes locked on his shaft, marveling at its beauty, imagining how warm it would feel in my hand, how wonderful it would feel inside of me…

            His response came out as a low growl, cut off before he had a chance to answer. Shifting my position atop him, I positioned his erection snugly between my legs, tantalizingly close to my core, separated only by the fabric of my own clothing.

            With delicate kisses peppering his jaw, neck, and cheeks, my fingers roamed every inch of his body on display. 

            Not long after, his lips were swollen, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, and his heartbeat quickened. He clenched his teeth, a pained expression crossing his face as he leaned his forehead against my shoulder. 

            “Untie me. I beg you. Let me share this with you. I want— I need to be inside of you.”

            “No.”

            His eyes shot open. 

            My decision was final.  

            “Please.”

            Oh, it was exquisite to hear him beg for a change. 

            “Do you think you can convince me with those beautiful brown eyes? You forget, my lover is…” my lips found their place on his neck once again, “ a Samurai, and he’s been teaching me…” another kiss, “how to be disciplined, resilient, determined, and…” I fought the urge to bite him in temptation, “lethal.” 

            His hips arched instinctively, seeking friction, his hands flexing with the urge to touch me. 

            “Make yourself feel good, then. Please.” There it was again, this time his voice deeper. “For me?”

            “No.”

            He swallowed, realizing this wasn’t going to play out as he desired. Not even a bit. He might as well admit defeat. He was still too proud to do so, though. 

            So, I ground myself against him, a sinful dance, feeling the hardness of his length pressing against me, wondering if I could withstand this much longer before I gave in and untied him, letting him fill me with every inch of his cock. 

            I was on the brink of moaning into his neck, so close to setting him free… But his hips jerked up suddenly, accompanied by a guttural sound, and his head pressed against my shoulder, halting my movements. 

            We fell into silence for a minute or so, his breathing shifting from rapid to slow and steady. His heartbeat beneath my palm was gradually relenting, yet his dick still throbbed under me, slick and wetness seeping through the fabric of my kimono. 

            “Noah,” I spoke, my voice barely a whisper in the confines of the small room we were in, “did you just…?”

            “Do not say anything,” was his reply, stern and cold. 

            Uh-oh. I was in trouble.

            “Untie me right about now,” he demanded, breathless.

            I almost chuckled, amused by the unexpected turn of events. I hadn’t actually contemplated the idea of him coming so hard and fast by just being restrained and having me on top, fully clothed. That hadn’t been my intention, but it was hilarious all the same. 

            However, I knew better than to mention it, especially in that moment. So, I kept it to myself and shifted away from his lap, noticing how his release had stained not only my kimono but his as well, the black fabric now marred with a conspicuous whitish, sticky stain. 

            He noticed it at the same time I did, and I swear I saw fire in his eyes. 

            “Untie me, I said.”

            “Okay,” I replied quietly, moving to his back and kneeling down to undo the knot. “But…” I hesitated, knowing what he needed, but our time together that night was coming to an end. “We don’t have much time,” I acknowledged, finally releasing him. He shook his hands violently, attempting to rid himself of the restraints once and for all.  “I should head back to my father’s ca—”

            “The Shogun can wait,” his resolve was now absolute. 

            And dangerous.

            Before I could react, he was already rising to his feet, his hands reaching out to grab me. 

            “I’m not done fucking his daughter.”

[itsonlydana]

where snow falls and conversation strikes | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader 👑

Your train gets caught in a snowstorm and when the first class gets moved into the normal compartments, a beautiful man asks to sit with you

warnings/tags: modern(ish)!AU, First Meetings, Fluff

wordcount: 3,7k

an: wrote this mostly on the train on my way to work every morning so it took a while and suddenly its 25° c and not 0°c anymore... oops? and lets ignore that my layout for fics is not even close to uniformly

+ masterlist + rules + read the fic on ao3 +

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

The view outside the train window was white in its purest form. The mush of white flakes went from gently landing on the glass to completely covering it, obscuring everything behind an opaque wall. 

A few hours ago it had been a wonderful sight of frost-tipped mountains, sloping meadows, and high-risen forests that made the long journey not only bearable but quite enjoyable. The hours had flown by just like the landscape, yet – as the newspapers had predicted it would happen – the gray clouds coming in from the seaside had caught up with the train weaving through the country and now, ever so slowly, it lost its speed. 

It couldn't have been long to the city. The last stop had been a while ago and if it weren't for the clouds hanging so low, coloring the sky ashen and the snow that just wouldn't stop falling, you could have probably seen the first small villages that dotted the outside of the city.

The train slowing down had been inevitable, you had known as much when you had boarded earlier this morning, though you had hoped to arrive at the destination fast enough that you would have outrun this weather.

Back in the city, back home, the weather would have been a small inconvenience but nothing that would hold you back.

The old speakers crackled just as you adjusted your seat, bringing forth another storm though this one ravaged through the inside: 

"We're mighty sorry 'bout this bother, but we kindly ask for yer patience. We've been movin' at a snail's pace 'cause of this darn weather, and now we're told we gotta face this blasted snowstorm 'fore we can carry on."

Even through the walls of your compartment, you heard the groaning and moaning of the other passengers. 

It wasn't surprising, the decision to travel onward would be foolish – everyone on this train knew – but the times you did travel like this you found that people seemed to bond over these expressions of annoyance toward something no one could be blamed for. The annoyed grunts that were passed along the rows with an eye roll made up for hours of silence daring the others to interrupt their own peaceful silence.

Your sigh fogged up the window, and you let your head fall back against the cushions, fixating your gaze on the white haze outside when the scruffy voice continued speaking after clearing his throat: 

"As it's damn impossible to know how long this weather's gonna last or whether it'll get worse, we kindly ask our first-class guests in the rear carriages to come through to the front. Heating there could be gone any minute. Make room for 'em. You'll of course be helped with your luggage."

Knowing that there is not much else to do than to sit back and wait, you picked up the book you had been reading, a collection of short stories by your favorite author that you knew by heart yet the familiar words provided comfort and you were quickly far away in those lands described.

Before you could finish the story you had left on though, a noise startled you and pulled you right back. The door of your compartment slid open by a tall man peeping his head in. 

"Good evening, forgive the intrusion, but might I trouble you for a moment? I was told I could find a seat here. Would that be alright?" The man raised his shoulder to stop the bag he was carrying from sliding down, it wouldn't do what he wanted and slipped to his elbow.

He was beautiful, despite the distressed look on his face that was covered by his long blonde hair falling into it as he glared at the bag; on its way down his arm, it had taken the coat he had hung over it with it so that it dangled close to the carpet floor of the train. 

You stared at him long enough that he arched a thick dark eyebrow and you flinched. 

"Oh, yes.. yes of course!" You prayed that your cheeks weren't as red as you feared they might be as you nodded.

There was enough space inside the compartment, your suitcase was pushed under your seat and the bench across from you had been free, but you felt the need to look like you would make room for him.

Since there was nothing in the way, really, all you did was pull the bag next to you closer and kick away a piece of lint that stuck to the carpet. 

"Thank you," the man slipped inside, coat, bag, and another suitcase dangling from his long arms.

You tried to look busy and lifted your book high up to your face while he stowed his suitcase away, a sleek dark blue leather one that unlike yours had no stickers on it or clothes sticking out. Then he entangled the coat from the bag to hang it on the door before he turned and stared at you. 

"Can… can I help you?" you asked when he remained silently scrutinizing you.

His eyes were an icy hue of blue and you would have compared them to the snowy weather outside, cold and unmoving, if there weren't the slightest hints of nervousness in them. 

"I don't want to inconvenience you any further but" – he swallowed and lifted a hand to brush some hair away, revealing the faintest of blushes on his high cheekbones– "I fear that I can't stomach traveling backward very well. Would you mind switching places or I could sit beside-"

"It's fine!" you interrupted him. Just him standing there seemed to affect the man quite a bit, he was swaying even though there was no movement, and what harm would it cause you to switch places?

You quickly gathered your back, closing the book with your thumb in between to mark the page you had left on and smiled at him as you sat down on the other side. "It's no problem at all, I have no preferences where I like to sit."

The upholstery was chilly under you and your legs groaned as you moved them for those few steps for the first time in hours instead of just folding them over each other

The man sat down, mumbling a soft "Thank you". His legs were long enough to brush against yours before he angled them toward the window, his slender hands resting on his lap. 

Silence fell just like the snow, with the man growing as still as a statue, his eyes hefted outside the window, and you finding a comfortable position to get back to your book.

Despite your best efforts to concentrate on the poetry, your mind couldn't stop straying to the man.

He must be one of the first-class-traveler, you would have noticed him on your short walks through the train whenever you got bored or had grown restless. 

His hair stood out, worn long enough to brush past his shoulders and over the cream-knitted sweater he wore, and then there were his eyebrows, the only dark spot of color in a face that could have been cut out of marble. He certainly looked expensive. He made the impression of a man who owned his own – equally perfect – bust.

He suddenly turned his head, not by much but he caught you looking at him nonetheless. Like a deer in headlights, your mouth simply fell open in a forgotten lie to excuse yourself for staring.

Thankfully he didn't comment on it, instead, his rosé lips curved into a smile.

"I'm Thranduil, by the way. I think I should tell you so that you have a name to complain about the stranger who not only stormed into your compartment but took your seat as well" He held out his hand. 

You took it after a relieved breath. His fingers were cold, his grip firm.  "Nice to meet you Thranduil," you introduced yourself and noted how his fingers flitted over your racing pulse point at your wrist, "Don't worry, I'd be a fool to moan about having a conversation partner, you've done nothing but turn this boring journey interesting"

"Ah, but you haven't realized how awful I am at small talk. I make a dreadful conversationalist," he admitted with a laugh and let go of your hand.

"We could simply skip that part then," you offered boldly and finally closed your book in your lap. "Tell me, what stop did you get on?"

He arched an eyebrow at you and rested his elbows on the table between you, placing his chin on the intertwined fingers. "What? You want to know where I came from and not were I'm going?" 

You shook your head, "No, I'll see where you have to get off, this is much more interesting."

Thranduil looked at you for a moment, his eyes taking you in like he wanted to figure you out. Then he huffed, giving in. "I got on right at the first stop," –you smiled, encouraging him to continue talking, which he did, his lips twitching to a smirk– "I stayed in Laketown with a friend over the holidays, but I didn't want to impose on him any longer."

"So you brought this weather with you?" You grinned.

"Oh, one hundred percent," he said, sounding so serious that you nearly giggled, "I had so much fun shoveling snow every morning for ten days that I simply wanted to continue at home." Thranduil tipped his head to the side, examining you once again. "And you?"

"God no, I don't get to pick up any tools while I'm on vacation," you said, knowing full well that's not what the question was about.

"No?" 

"No," you sighed, "Try being the youngest at the family reunion. I'm glad my parents let me shower and dress myself. Gosh, I think they would've cried if I even thought about helping with the snow."

Amusement lit up his face, lifting all his sharp features. "Tell that to my friend's little one. She's a fierce thing; knocking at my door at sunrise all dressed up and threatening me with her shovel that I better be outside before she had to come again."

"Oh my! Say, whatever was she threatening to do instead?"

Thranduil chuckled and shook his head, "I didn't stay long enough in bed to find out." 

A knock sounded from the door, interrupting the conversation as an older woman opened your compartment. "Hiya, loves. May I offer you some tea? Dreadful weather outside and with the heating back there gone completely, we don't want ya to catch a cold," she said.

"Ye–"

"We'll take two cups," Thranduil's directive voice overshadowed yours, there was an authority in it that even you wouldn't want to cross. He was already pulling a fancy black wallet out of his pockets, which produced a fresh note that gave no room to argue or chip in. "Keep the change," he said while the train service employee shuffled inside and placed a tablet on the table between you.

"Thank you, Sir Oropherion!" She beamed at him and slipped the note through the buttons of her blouse, "You're always too kind!" Then she turned to you and lowered her voice in a faux-whisper: "He's just as handsome as he's single. But you didn't hear that from ol' me." 

Thranduil scoffed, though you could see a faint blush on his cheeks. "You are a horrible gossip, Hilda! Go bother some of the other passengers or they'll freeze to death."

A little bit louder and glaring toward Thranduil, she added: "A shame his attitude is like the weather; he could use a sweetheart like you.

With a last wink, she turned and left you to stare after her, wondering what just happened.

"Impossible, that woman." 

Thranduil's low rumble pulled you back to him, leaving that poor – now again shut – door alone before your eyes drilled a hole through the wood in search of an explanation.  

The man across from you didn't offer you one either, instead, he was reaching for one of the silver spoons that the woman, Hilda, had given to you as well as a cup filled with milk and a small tower of cookies. 

Somehow you had the feeling this wasn't what the other customers would get but rather a gesture of whatever fondness the woman pledged to the blonde, who used the tiny tongs to drop two cubes of sugar into his cup.

"So," you said and cleared your throat. Thranduil looked up, nearly killing you on the spot with the daggers in his eyes daring you to speak on the matter. Of course, who would you be if you shied away because of that? "She seemed lovely. A friend of yours?"

"No. No, she's not," Thranduil said. He pushed the other cub toward you, encouraging you to take from the all-paid-for beverage. 

You wrapped both hands around it, marveling how beautifully and frail the cup looked and felt, and after taking a small sip, you smiled benevolently and waited for Thranduil to continue. 

He rolled his eyes, admitting defeat in his thickheadedness of remaining aloof. "I travel this route to Laketown quite a lot. Once a month, sometimes two or three times, or whenever my schedule allows me to actually. That woman made it her personal mission to get on my last nerve; chatting to me and leaving me sweets and tea without me asking for it. After a while, I could at least get her to accept my money for it. She's keen on finding me my soulmate so I no longer travel this much alone."

"Aw, but that's cute," you said and drank another sip of the hot tea. You didn't know what burned more, the tea or Thranduil's hardened eyes, "What? She looks out for you; the journey is long and she just doesn't want to be lonely." 

"Whyever you feel the need to defend her is unfathomable," he scoffed as if you taking Hilda's side was the most outrageous thing he'd ever heard, "You don't even know if her accusations are true– if I'm lonely. Maybe I like traveling alone!" Thranduil placed the cup back onto the tray with such an energetic movement, that it clinked. His lips twitched.

"That…" you started and nodded toward the cup, "was far too defensive. Why, Thranduil, it's no shame to admit to something, especially not to a stranger." His expression was still unreadable though the sharp line of his jaw protruded even more like he was biting down on his teeth. You made sure to keep your tone lighthearted: "Dare I say this is even the perfect chance to get it off your chest? Who knows if we will see each other again. Time to spill all your deep, dark and dirty secrets."

He fixated you with his cold blue eyes. Your words had left an impression on him, that much was clear and you would even go so far to say he was considering them. 

Thranduil made a sound close to a "Humpf!" and you smiled and nodded, pushing him evidently over the edge for he rolled his eyes, clasped his hands together and leaned back into the cushions.

"Very well," he sighed though clicked his tongue as he saw your satisfied smirk, "You are right, traveling alone can–" lifting one finger, he punctuated the word "get a bit lonely. Not to say it's like that every time but I find that this conversation, despite the uncalled-for nosiness on behalf of my private life, makes it a lot more enjoyable than the hours I spent in the first class."

"Aww," you waved off in false modesty, "that's such a sweet way of saying I basically rescued you from a death of boredom."

"Bit of an overstatement"

"Okay, first-class, no need to knock my ego down like that." 

"Anyone ever tells you how cheeky you are?"

You smiled brightly, "All the poor, single, and handsome men I chat up on these travels."

Thranduil laughed out and shook his head more for himself than anything else. He extended his hand towards his cup once more, coinciding with the moment you brought your tea to your lips.

As your gazes met over the rising steam of porcelain, the black tea seemed to carry a subtle sweetness reminiscent of the shared smile between you, if only for a fleeting moment.

Or maybe it was the sugar, combined with the subtle loneliness that was your own travel companion nowadays, a constant bitterness coating your tongue. 

No matter what, another sip of tea flushed it down. 

"Now," Thranduil cleared his throat and dabbed the sleeve of his sweater at the corner of his mouth where a small drop of tea rested next to a shy smile. The tea disappeared – the smile stayed. "Do you want to tell me where you are going?" 

The answer was simple, you just had to tell him the name of your station, but you hesitated. 

This felt too good to be true, and maybe, if you disappeared without giving him any real information, there wouldn't be the urge to keep your eyes open when you arrived home, hoping he would be looking for that mystery woman he met on the train. 

Before the moment passed for far too long to be deemed anything but awkward, the train jolted. First, there was this one tug, then another one, and then, right when you looked up at Thranduil and understanding passed across his face like a ghost, appearing and disappearing right again, the wheels set in motion.

"Seems like we're off again," Thranduil said quietly, turning his face to the window.

He cleared his throat and you watched him swallow, not breaking away from the fuzziness outside that mirrored what you felt in your stomach right now. He was beautiful, even with that sadness settling heavy on his shoulders.

Why you couldn't just offer a piece of yourself now that he has given you some of him, that you didn't understand yourself because this trip had been the loveliest in a long time, the conversation quick and easy and nothing like the pestering questions about your romantic life that your brothers and your mother had poured over you, and while yes, you just met him, there was a connection between you. 

More than strangers on a train.

And you wanted it, so so much.

To have someone by your side wherever you go. 

"Thranduil–" you spoke so suddenly you not only startled Thranduil; the sound of your own voice frightened you as well.

"Yes?"

"This thing working again? Ah yes, now yer can hear me 'gain. Darn line cut off for a moment there. Next stop, Mirkwood Central Station, arriving in 'bout five minutes. We apologize for the delay 'n hope y'all get to your destination safely. To all those leavin' us: Remember to grab all your things before ya go. Hope to see y'all again real soon." 

The rest of the sentence died on your lips as you listened to the announcement. How they managed to be on time when you needed another delay, another moment to sort out your thoughts was an unwanted miracle.

Right when you wanted to panic and quickly pack up the book you hadn't opened up again, Thranduil got to it first.

"Five… five minutes?" he gasped and jumped out of his seat, knocking his long legs into the table resulting in you both reaching for the rattling cups trying to stop them from crashing down, hands brushing just enough for you to nearly smash the pot of sugar away as well.

"Wait. This is your stop?" 

Thranduil nodded, already throwing his coat on. "Yes, oh it's such a shame! I had hoped we had more time to finish our tea." He threw a sad glance at the half-empty cups; although the switch to look at you spoke of a far greater regret than simply leaving two cups of tea behind.

A laugh burst out of you, taking both of you by such surprise that you wondered if it had come off as discouraging or far worse: like you were making fun of him.

You hastened to explain: "This is my stop as well!" – the wide smile that shot to his eyes turned into a smirk – "This is me, Mirkwood Central. So if you want–" you interrupted yourself by standing up and grabbing your jacket, "we could get a tea later?"

"Yes!" Thranduil said quickly, "Yes, I would love to. Do you have any plans for the rest of the evening?" 

You copied his smile. "The rest of the evening? Bit eager, aren't we?" You were teasing, mostly, because that seemed to affect that glimmer of playfulness in Thranduil's eyes that made them look like molten silver, but you couldn't deny that you wouldn't have canceled all your plans if you'd had any to begin with, to stay in Thranduil's company. 

"I will gladly take every bit of time you can offer me," Thranduil said, "Any man would be this eager to get to know you."

You were still blushing when you stepped into the narrow corridor of the train, the tight space and crowding of passengers waiting to exit as well making it impossible to stand anywhere else but close together, Thranduils taller body a warm presence in your back and whenever you swayed his large hand found your shoulder to steady you and his amused chuckling reverberated in your stomach.

The train finally made its way into the bustling train station, the smoke of other trains clouding up the window and excitement like only arriving at a special destination could evoke in one filled the air inside the train, the hushed talking growing as other passengers saw relatives or friends or lovers waving to them, children pressing their faces against the glass or tried to run past you with their parents following close behind.

One particular stormy child knocked you straight into Thranduil as the doors opened and cold air greeted you while your face lightened up with a blush. 

"I hope I won't lose you," you said, jokingly but the air was stolen right out of your lungs as Thranduils gloved hand grabbed yours.

"Don't worry," he said and helped you step onto the metal platform, watching carefully as you hopped onto the platform. He looked beautiful in the evening lights of Mirkwood Station, white snowflakes landing gently on his long lashes. "I won't let that happen!"

©itsonlydana 2024

[sometimesliterate]

reunion | dr ratio x gn. reader ( 18+ )

this is !! actually kinda cute !! best friends to lovers ! literally its not obvious that they want each other until two paragraphs before the sex, so.. sorry about that, teehee. but i just thought that the bickering was cute and i left subtle clues that they wanted each other. tags : finger-fucking, penetration, pretty vanilla sex, reader's intimate area is only described as a ' hole ', best friends to lovers, mutual pining, loving sex, missionary position. ratio is kind of ooc here but who cares its cute. word count : 3700 on the dot.

everyone has their natural opposite, someone that they involuntarily gravitate towards even though they're so very different. and for dr. ratio, that person who was his natural opposite, his twin flame, was you. you were his best friend, his closest companion, even though you could be.. unique sometimes. everyone within the intelligentsia guild knew your schedule by now, and that you would come down once every three months to spend a week with the guild and veritas, and, for those weeks, veritas would be the most alive that anyone would see him.

" veritas ! " you yelled, running down the ship runway towards the entrance of the intelligentsia guild ship, your luggage in your hands rolling behind you. " dear veritas ratio, i am here ! "

veritas arched an eyebrow, barely surprised at your enthusiastic greeting. he always wanted to maintain an air of indifference, but here he was, waiting for you at the end of the dock anyway. " always the dramatic one, " he says, feigning exasperation as he called out to you, " how delightful it is to see you again, despite the chaos you bring with you. "

you dropped your suitcase mid run as you bolted up to him, wrapping your arms around him and laughing, quite literally running into his arms. " how is my best friend ? how has the guild been treating you ? ah, these last three months have been quite the storm ! we simply must catch up soon, the moment i put my things away in my room ! also... me ? dramatic ? are you sure we're talking about the same person ? i have never been known to be dramatic in the slightest. "

you feigned hurt as you pulled away from him, dramatically clutching your chest as you overdramatized your words, " my dear veritas, you wound me with your accusations. i have never been known to dabble in theatre. i am always and will always be a very serious and put together individual. "

veritas suppressed a sigh, his hand instinctually coming to grab the small of your back as you pulled away from him, keeping you in his hold for a moment longer, although he looked away, pretending to be offended by unable to hide the warmth in his eyes. " you're not dramatic ? perhaps i have to reevaluate my accusations, " he chuckles lightly, meeting your gaze. " your room awaits you as always. "

your free hand reached up to his face, taking his chin in your hand as you tilted his head, examining him thoroughly. " you haven't been sleeping well, " you pointed out, your tone a mix between disappointment and worry. " has the guild been overworking you ? do you need me to have a word with your seniors ? you mustn't neglect your health, you know. you have dark circles under your eyes, and your eyeliner is smudged slightly. "

veritas paused, caught off guard with your concern for him, but ultimately brushing it off as inconsequential. after all, he was taking care of himself, just a little overworked right now. " thank you for your concern, but i assure you, i do not require coddling. however, i suppose i should pay attention to my appearance, for your sake. "

" perhaps you should ! definitely for my sake ! i would simply combust on the spot if i found out my dear veritas was being overworked ! what would i do if you had no energy to enduring my yapping ? what would i do if you could no longer ground me, and allowed me to run amok with all of my terribly genius ideas ? " you pulled away from him while you talked, reaching for your luggage that you had left behind, your mouth running pretty constantly now that you were in his presence again. " why, the world would be turned into a chaotic mess ! there would be no order, only me running around with enough glitter and balloons to send you into a heart attack !"

" as you can see, if you're tired, this is surely the future that will come true. you must keep yourself healthy, for the sake of the world, you see ! " you laughed as you walked with him inside of the intelligentsia guild, your voice echoing in the otherwise quiet hallways.

" i'm certain the world would crumble without me, " veritas agreed, unable to maintain his stoic demeanor amidst your infectious laughter, " an apocalypse brought by your hand.. quite the disastrous scenario. " he shook his head at your antics, subtly grabbing your suitcase from your fingers, although his gesture did not go unnoticed by you. " the universe needs me to prevent such a fate. "

as you walked, a few people nodded to the two of you, each one getting an excited wave from you, as if you were a puppy excited to see so many people you knew within the same area. a member greeted the two of them, breaking the unspoken rule, and unprepared for it. " ah, you're back within the guild ! " he greeted warmly, stopping the two of you in your tracks.

you smiled at him, your hands behind your back as you spoke. " yes ! i absolutely must bring some color to this monotonous guild ! it's a pleasure to be back, as always. however, at the moment, i'm spending some quality time with my dearest veritas, so i will have to cause mayhem around the guild another time. " your words stung, no matter how gently you spoke them. you always prioritized spending time with veritas above all else, even if that meant turning other people's attention down. after all, you only got to see him once every three months, you had to make this time count.

" o-oh ! my apologies, i'm sorry for the interruption, " the man sulked off, embarrassment coloring his cheeks as he left the two of you alone. veritas didn't say anything, already well aware of where your loyalties lay, although it didn't stop him from holding an air of pride within him.

" perhaps we can find a balance between your chaos and my order during his trip, " veritas suggested as you walked, giving you a playful nudge. he opened the door of your room for you, letting you walk in first. as you settled into the room, you collapsed onto the bed dramatically. this room had became your home away from home, a place that you felt truly comfortable in. meanwhile, veritas settled into a chair, crossing his legs, watching you with a discerning gaze.

" ah, it's so good to be home ! " you whined, pulling a pillow from the bed into your arms, snuggling with it against your chest. " i have been running around like a dog ! world after world, to every corner of the universe, it seems ! " you looked over to veritas, unable to hide your smile, although you were trying to act depressed. " but i suppose i can't be too mad at it, since i enjoy it. what about you, my dearest ? how are your students treating you ? have you been letting more than 3% graduate this year, or is your strictness the focus of the class still ? "

with your attention on him, he feigned sympathy for you, listening intently. his lips twitched into a smile at your dramatization, unable to resist poking fun at you. " oh, the hardships of exploring the universe. truly, a terrible fate, " he deadpans, his voice holding no hint of amusement, although you had gotten used to his dry humor by now. he leaned back, his voice holding a hint of his usual demeanor.

" my students always struggle to meet my expectations. however, a diligent student shall always prosper under my guidance. "

" ah ! perhaps i should take a visit during one of your lectures ? i could whip the students into shape, you never know ! " you teased, rolling onto your tummy, your arms folding underneath your head as you looked up at him, kicking your feet.

he chuckled, raising an eyebrow at your suggestion. " i fear your interference might only worsen matters. they wouldn't stand a chance against you, " he seemed to miss the spark in your eyes until it was too late. your hand reached out, gently grabbing his from his spot in his chair, pulling him until he stood up and got closer to the bed.

" sit, veritas, " you commanded gently, patting the bed with your free hand next to you. " you are far too away. " you picked yourself up to face him properly, on your knees on the edge of the bed as you pulled him into a brief hug, which he reciprocated almost immediately after a moment's hesitation. " i missed you, veritas. these last three months have made it feel like forever since i was back in the intelligentsia guild. "

veritas relaxed into your embrace, his arms curling around you, the tension in his body easing. " indeed, the last three months have dragged on without you. your absence is palpable in my life. i'm.. glad to have you back, even if only for a little while. " he pulled away from your hold, his eyes searching yours, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable.

you couldn't help but laugh a little bit, your gaze soft as you admired your best friend. " ah, the great veritas ratio, renowned doctor and scholar of the cosmos, and yet, his best friend is not a scholar, nor a doctor, and i have only graduated once, unlike my dear veritas who's graduated over eight times. we are so different, and yet, he can't ever seem to shake me off of his tail. a pity, really, or is it ? i think i keep things interesting here. you would get bored if i wasn't here to occupy you, surely. "

" indeed, i find myself eternally cursed with your companionship, " veritas quipped, a note of fondness in the jest as his hand moved from your back to your cheek, gently caressing it with his thumb as he held the side of your face. you nuzzled into his touch almost immediately, your eyes closed. " a fate worse than death, no doubt. yet somehow, i survive. "

this is always how it goes: you make it back, and within the hour, the two of you trap yourselves in the bedroom to share in each other's presence to alleviate the stress of being away from one another for so long. both of you yield to the familiar routine, your bodies responding instinctively to the invitation. your world shrinks to the confines of the bedroom, to his arms, and to this moment.

you hesitated, your gaze flickering down to his lips as you looked at him, but you quickly looked back into his eyes, your words soft as you laughed. " ah ! consider me your own personal devil, keeping you forever by my side. "

you were just friends, right ?

so why were his lips on yours before you could recognize what was happening ? and why were you melting into the kiss, your arms keeping his body close to yours, your kiss deepening, his hands finding purchase on your hips, anchoring you to him. you reveled in the fire ignited by your passion, causing you to gently moan against his lips.

" ver-veritas- " you moaned out against his lips, your eyes fluttering closed as you allowed him to kiss you like this, a kiss that started off smooth and gentle, but got rougher as it progressed, more needy, more desperate. until your lips were sloppily smashed together, your hands grabbing at his vest, hands bunching up in the fabric. his robe slipped off of his shoulders and now hung lazily at his waist, just waiting for him to take his belt off so he could take it all off.

veritas took this time to grab you and push you onto your back on the bed, your legs spread willingly, inviting him closer. his assertiveness surprises you, but you welcome it wholeheartedly, the change in situations so swift that it threw you for a loop. had he seen you look at his lips so briefly ? what was getting into this man ? you did not take veritas for the kind of man to lose his control, and yet here he was, hovering on top of you, his body trapping yours.

he calls your name, his voice thick with emotion, betraying his usual persona. he gazes at you, his eyes mirroring his actions, the want in his eyes obvious. " i'm.. unable to escape you, indeed. but it's a gravitational pull that i find myself willingly falling into. you drive me mad. in ways i'm sure you find delightful. " his fingers trail down your sides, lingering on your hips, holding you firmly, his fingers digging into your body slightly. " let me have you. please. "

everything froze for you, and yet, you relented power to him, more than a little glad to be under his command. you were used to being the one in control during your day to day life - you're loud, commanding, and you have a million opinions that you need to voice. you were a chatterbox, and had a penchant for the love of doing stuff a little on the wild side.

there was only one person who could ever properly control you, properly tame you. he was veritas ratio, your best friend. you trusted him with your life, so you knew you were safe in his command. " mm- veritas, " you whispered softly, your fingers working on his vest, pulling it off of his body, your hands now roaming his naked torso, admiring the muscles underneath your fingertips. " you sure do know how to make a person want you, you know that ? " you teased, picking your head up from the pillow to trail kisses down his neck, " or perhaps, it's just me ? "

veritas' breath hitches, a hint of satisfaction coloring his tone. " its you, " he admitted, his hands working to undo his belt, letting his robes completely fall off of his body, the fabric being thrown onto the floor below you, before he started to work on your clothes, peeling off each layer with a haste that left you breathless. his hands roamed freely now, mapping your body with reverence.

" for tonight, you are mine, " veritas whispered, his proclamation of your body left in the air. " in every sense of the word. i want you, i want to lose myself in you. " he leaned down, each word punctuated by a kiss on your collarbone. " just as i've lost myself in countless debates and lectures, you are my focus. my obsession. "

you may be navigating new waters together, but it felt like a natural progression, the passion filling both of you up completely, pushing you past the brink. amidst the laughter and subtle flirtation, neither of you were even aware of the desires building up between the two of you until it spilled over. each touch, each whispered word, carried the weight of your connection. he pressed a tender kiss to your shoulder, relishing in the feel of your skin under his lips. " shall we proceed, or do you wish to draw this out further ? "

the two of you were completely naked now, your clothing long forgotten. you were reveling in the rushed, needy connection the two of you shared. you pulled him closer into another kiss, your hips bucking up into his hand as it hovered over your vulnerable hole. " you're the only one i want to do with with, veritas. please, you can.. take me, if you would like. please, touch me. " you pleaded, your voice cracking, showcasing the needy, desperate person underneath all of your confidence. now that you were done with the theatrics, your need for him was on display. you were striped bare, both physically and emotionally.

" please, " you whimpered, your hips bucking up again to meet his hand, hoping for just a little friction. " i need you to fuck me, veritas. i need to feel you inside of me. "

" how could i deny you ? " veritas whispered back, his breath hitched at your plea. he dipped a single digit into your warm and willing hole, his finger moving slowly at first, testing your readiness for him. then, he picked up the pace gradually, adding a second digit as he began a rhythm. you moaned, throwing your head back in pleasure as he finally gave you a taste of what you so desperately craved.

" please, " you urged once more, your pleas falling on receptive ears, although you weren't sure what you were asking for this time. yet, there's no rush in his movements, every caress of his calculated to heighten your desire further. your walls contracted around his fingers, so tight that it was hard for him to even thrust his finger inside of you, your body warm and inviting.

" your reactions make me.. greedy for more, " he admitted, his fingers deep inside of you, drawing another round of moans from you as you felt the familiar coil build up within your tummy. your heart pounds, synching with his rhythmic thrusts as he fucked your hole with his fingers. " you're ready for me, aren't you ? " veritas asked, his voice laced with expectation as you nodded helplessly.

you spread your legs for him willingly, pulling your knees up to your chest, giving him the perfect access to your body. " please, fuck me, veritas. " you begged, giving him enthusiastic consent to continue and pleasure you both, hissing as he withdrew his fingers. he positioned himself properly in between your legs, his gaze fixed on your face, as he guided himself into your hole.

you whimpered, your eyes rolling back as he entered you inch by inch, slowly penetrating you. his cock was so much bigger than your fingers, and it stretched you out as far as you could take it, your walls constricting around him, as if to milk his orgasm out of him immediately. " fuck..! fuck, you feel so good inside of me, veritas ! " you cried out.

veritas holds still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, fighting the urge to thrust wildly. " relax, darling, " he instructs, his voice firm but gentle, " let me ease into you properly. "

as he finally sheathes himself inside of you completely, you couldn't help but grab at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. " f-fuck- " you cried out, as his hips began a slow roll, each movement calculated, as if he were afraid of hurting you.

" control, veritas, " he whispered to himself as if he needed a reminder, his breath ragged, " don't lose control yet. "

your eyes followed the path of his body as his cock disappeared into you, and then resurfaced. veritas struggled to maintain control, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping them pressed against your chest and spread for him. " our bodies were made for each other, " veritas' possession of you was clear, and you didn't argue with him, knowing he was right.

each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body as you writhed underneath him, " you fill me up so, so nicely, veritas, " you gasped as he fucked you gently. you knew he was trying hard to control himself, desperate not to lose himself in you, but you had already long gave up control, and you wanted him to as well. " i-i want you to fuck me so hard i'm seeing stars, veritas. please, " you begged, moans slipping from your lips with every thrust of his.

veritas' breathing becomes erratic, your pleas for roughness seeping into his mind, breaking down his barriers. " oh, fuck- " he groans, his voice low and gruff, " what have you done to me ? " without warning, his hips piston faster, his movements becoming more forceful. you asked to be fucked stupid, and he's all too eager to oblige.

" fu-fuck..! just like that, veritas ! " you cried out, your body responding to his new pace, his thrusts becoming sharper. with each thrust inside of you, your moans grew louder, fueling your mutual desires. you felt the coil build up again, threatening to spill over at any moment. your entire body tensed at the prospect of an orgasm, your mind going hazy as you lost yourself in his body.

" does this satisfy you ? " he breaths against your skin, his voice laden with lust, as you nod eagerly, unable to manage a coherent sentence, " i'm almost there, please. just hold on a bit longer. " he could feel you nearing the precipice. your bodies move in sync, your connection electric as you adjusted to each other's needs, learning each other's bodies like you knew each other's minds.

" ready for me, darling ? " veritas leaned forward, spreading your legs further apart so he had access to your face, his lips pressing against yours in a sloppy kiss. " i'm so close- fuck- "

your body responded eagerly, your back arching towards him, and you whimpered against his lips, your mouth open to let him kiss you, drooling slightly. " i- i am too, veri- fill me up, make me yours..! " you couldn't hold on anymore, your orgasm exploding inside of you, causing you to moan helplessly against him, your bodies becoming one entirely. he couldn't control himself anymore, his hips meeting yours as his eyes shut for a moment, his jaw clenching, wanting to prolong this for as long as possible, but he couldn't hold it back anymore.

" i- fuck, " he growled, pulling out of you, his hand dropping from your thigh to his cock, stroking himself for a moment as he milked his orgasm out of himself, his cum splattering all over your stomach and chest, his chest rising and falling as he caught his breath, both of you finally coming back down from the high of being with each other in such an intimate way.

" ve-veri.. " you whispered a little, your legs dropping down, hurting from where they had been bent so far for so long. you both knew what this meant, and for the first time in a really long time, you were at a loss for words. you had no idea what to say to him, how to even approach the conversation that the two of you were going to undoubtedly need.

but somehow, you weren't worried. this was veritas, this felt natural. he leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek. " let's discuss it after our bath, no ? i believe we have a lot to talk about. "

sure. you could handle a bath with veritas.

[munstysmind]

WARNING/S: non-con, rape, loss of virginity, rough sex, rough vaginal sex, rough oral sex, rough anal sex, unprotected sex, multiple men, blood, assault, abuse, slavery, trauma, threats of forced prostitution, mentions of kidnapping/abduction, mentions of death, mentions or murder, mentions of injuries, mentions of suicide. If I’ve missed anything, please let me know.

DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT

THIS IS A DARK FIC, DO NOT READ IF THIS TYPE OF CONTENT TRIGGERS OR OFFENDS YOU.

You and you alone are responsible for what you choose to consume online.

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE USED IN ANY CAPACITY

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Thank you to @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure for being my ideas gremlin, and @themaradwrites for beta-ing. This wouldn’t have been written without your help.

MAIN MASTERLIST

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CH. 1 - THEIR REWARD

{54 BC}

Her heart pounds in her chest as she slowly walks down the hall towards the man she despises more than anything in this world.

Dominus Julius Fabius. Her owner. Her master.

She wishes she could stick him in the neck with a dagger and watch him bleed to death, just like all the men he condemns when he forces them into the arena.

He’s pure evil.

The kind of evil Orcus uses to make an example of. The God of punishment and the Underworld is going to have fun with her master when he passes into the afterlife.

She’s lost count of how long it’s been. Five years? Probably more, if she’s being honest with herself. She doesn’t even know who she is anymore.

Except her name.

Amina.

To everyone around her, she’s a thing. An object meant to do as she’s told. No exceptions.

She runs her finger along the cold iron bolted around her neck, her slave collar.

Thirty coins. That’s what he paid for her. She didn’t know you could put a price on someone’s life but that’s what hers was worth, thirty whole coins.

“There you are girl” he growls as he grabs her wrist tightly and drags her towards a door at the end of the hall “I’m in a right mind to give you a lashing for making me wait”

“I’m sorry, they… they wanted to make sure everything was perfect” she mumbles, keeping her eyes on the floor to help hide her tears as she recalls the looks of pity on the faces of the women who got her ready.

She knows they know what her Master’s plans are, and she suspects the reason they took so long was to keep her from her fate for as long as they possibly could.

“I don’t care. Those fighters in there won me a lot of denarii today. You’re going to let them do whatever they want to you. All. Night” her master tells her, getting so close to her she can feel his warm, vile breath across her face.

“I… I’ve never…” she stammers, her eyes going wide as she realises what he’s saying.

“I know. I know you’ve never laid with a man before, they checked you when I brought you. That’s why I chose you” he says, a smirk spreading across his face. “Maybe I should put you in the Lupanar and whore you out after they’ve broken you in. Gods know you’d make me a fortune”

It takes everything in her not to turn and run as fast as she can as she swallows down the bile rising in her throat.

It would be pointless though, there’s guards everywhere. She wouldn’t make it to the end of the hall before they caught her. She’d be guaranteed a lashing too, a public one at that. Just like Vesta.

“I mean it girl. You’re theirs tonight. I don’t care if it hurts… in fact, I want it to. A lot” he whispers, pulling out a small dagger and cutting one of the shoulders of her dress, exposing her breast.

He runs the dagger tip over her nipple, pressing it into the sensitive bud until it breaks the skin, making her let out a small whimper of pain.

“If you resist, or put up a fight, you’ll be punished, and it’ll be much worse than what they’re going to do” he growls before pushing her into the room.

She can’t help but flinch as the large wooden door is slammed in her face, the echo of the metal latch being closed ringing in her ears.

She just stands there, staring at it as she takes shuddery breaths.

She knows what’s about to happen. What she’s about to go through. And there’s nothing she can do about it.

She’s trapped.

Locked in a room with three blood covered fighters.

Their reward for winning their master 5000 coin.

She’s their prize.

“Turn around” a deep voice commands, making her jump.

She closes her eyes, praying to the Gods that she wakes up from this nightmare as she slowly turns around.

She sees the man the voice belongs to and her breath catches in her throat as she fights back tears.

He’s the one who killed her brother.

Champion gladiator August.

“Name” he growls, slowly approaching her with a look similar to the lions in the arena before they attack.

“Am… Amina” she stammers, stumbling back against the door as he towers over her.

She can smell death on him. The twang of iron, of blood. Was it her brothers?

Her stomach churns at the thought and she wants to be sick.

“Amina” he repeats “honest, faithful. Beautiful name for a beautiful woman”

Under any other circumstance she might have smiled and thanked him for his compliment, just like she was taught, but not this time. She just can’t.

“I like to know their names before I take what I want” he tells her with a smirk.

He remembers them, every name. All the women he’s taken this way. Amina’s the latest entry on his ever growing list.

He grabs her dress and tears it off her body, letting the fabric crumple to the floor.

She instinctively tries to cover herself, but he stops her, prying her hands away from her body before grasping her breasts and squeezing.

A grin spreads across his face as he continues to grope her, pinching and rolling her nipples tightly between his fingers, making her whimper in pain.

The noise makes him let out a low growl from deep in his chest and his eyes go dark, almost black.

Before she can fully register what’s happening, he grabs her by the back of her neck and yanks her towards the small table on the other side of the room, forcing her onto her back.

He takes her legs behind the knees and pushes them open, exposing her to not only him, but the other two men in the room who are now standing behind him and looking over his shoulder.

Her stomach churns as she stares at the ceiling, her face burning with embarrassment as she tries to think of anything to distract her from the way he’s inspecting her.

She bites back a whimper as he touches her, his fingers playing with her most intimate area before spreading it open.

He lets out a satisfied hum, a smirk spreading across his face when he sees she’s intact, just like their Master promised.

“I’ve never had a pure one before” he says, to no one in particular as he pinches the small bundle of nerves above her opening, making her gasp loudly.

“They’re my favourite. Oh, the noises they make” one of the other men says excitedly, much to August’s annoyance.

“She’s mine, Lloyd” he growls, glaring at the man before turning his attention back to her, really looking at her for the first time since she entered the room.

And as much as she tries to look away, to look anywhere but the face of the man that’s about to brutalise her, she can't. Her green, terror filled eyes just stare at him, transfixed.

He’s seen her eyes, and that look, before. He knows he has. There’s something so familiar about them and it takes him a minute to place it. The man he killed in the arena a mere hours before. Her brother.

“You’ve got his eyes” he tells her before turning his gaze back between her legs.

She’s so caught up in the flood of emotions at what he just said that she doesn’t notice his finger pushing into her until it’s too late.

She lets out a loud yelp at the sudden pain between her legs, her body instinctively trying to close her legs and move away from the beast of a man in front of her.

He lets out an angry growl and yanks her up by her arm, turning her around and bending her over the table with so much force all the air leaves her lungs when her chest makes contact with the wooden surface.

“Don’t move” he growls, kicking her legs apart with his feet.

She grips the edge of the table, so tightly her fingers hurt, as tears well in her eyes. She prays the talk of his stamina is wrong, that it will be over quickly.

But it won’t.

When he’s done with her, there’s two more waiting.

And they have her all night…

The sound of his armour dropping onto the ground behind her makes her heart pound.

It’s happening.

Right now.

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying her best to relax when she feels him prod at her again, but it doesn’t matter.

He snaps his hips forward and tears into her with force, pulling a scream of pain from her that makes him grin.

In all the beatings she’s gotten over the years, she’s never felt pain like this.

It’s like a searing hot poker being forced into her over and over as she’s split in two.

The tears in her eyes escape and spill onto the table as he thrusts into her, over and over and over again. It feels like the more she cries, the harder his thrusts become.

“Best one I’ve had yet” he grunts as he lays over her, pressing her against the table with his full body weight, and starts grinding into her, moaning loudly in her ear.

He’s enjoying this, getting pleasure out of hurting her. How can he not? He’s a sadistic bastard!

Little does she know she’s not the first woman he’s forced himself into. It’s the whole reason he’s stuck fighting in that gods forsaken arena in the first place. And unless he dies there, she won’t be the last.

“You’re mine now, gonna take you like this whenever I want” he pants, making her let out a loud sob at the thought of him doing this to her over and over.

It all becomes too much and her stomach churns as bile rises in her throat, burning it as she chokes and coughs it up.

His moans start becoming louder as he ruts into her hard, his hips slamming her body into the table over and over and over.

“Oh Gods!” he roars, moaning loudly as his hips stutter then still before he thrusts into her as hard as he can, filling her with a strange warmth.

He says something to her, but she doesn’t hear a word of it, unable to hear anything except the loud ringing in her ears.

She lets out a loud whimper as he pulls out of her before kneeling and pushing her legs wider, smirking at the blood mixed with his spend dripping out of her.

He catches some with his fingers and pushes them inside her, forcing it back into her as she lies on the table, her entire body shaking and twitching from shock as she takes shallow, gasping breaths.

“My turn” the second of the men says, all but pushing August out of the way before grasping her by her hair and pulling her to her feet, making her cry out.

He pushes her to her knees, making quick work of removing his armour as she glances behind him at August drinking wine from a goblet and sees the size of him for the first time, enough to make Priapus himself blush.

She looks back at the second man, terror spreading through her yet again as she comes face to face with his member.

She can’t tell if he’s bigger, but it doesn’t matter. He’s going to defile her the same way August did without a care for her.

He hooks his finger into her mouth and forces it open before pushing himself in until she starts to gag.

He holds onto the sides of her head and starts thrusting, hitting the back of her throat with each snap of his hips.

A smirk spreads across his face as he moves one of his hands to the back of her head and forces her down onto him, deep throating her.

He holds her there, moaning at the feeling of the muscles in her throat squeezing him as she chokes.

“We can’t kill her, Lloyd” August warns as she starts scratching at his legs, trying desperately to get air.

He lets out a growl as he pulls himself out of her mouth and slaps her hard across the face before grabbing it and pulling her to her feet.

“You’re going to pay for that” he hisses, manhandling her onto the small bed in the corner of the room.

He climbs on after her, roughly pulling her hips up and slamming into her from behind.

“Gods, I’ve not taken a woman this good in years” he moans, throwing his head back and gripping her hips tightly as he thrusts hard, spurred on by her cries.

“I wonder if her other hole’s just as good?” August says with a smirk, leaning against the table he just had her bent over.

“Let’s find out” Lloyd replies, spitting on her ass. He pulls out and lines himself up with her tiny puckered hole before pushing himself into her, moaning loudly at the muscles squeezing him tightly in an attempt to force him out.

She lets out a shriek of pain, her body going rigid as she tries, and fails, to get away from the man violating her in a way she didn’t think was possible.

He lets out an evil laugh and pushes her face into the bed as he starts thrusting, going out of his way to hurt her as much as he can.

The noises leaving him as he uses her body for his pleasure are burned into her mind as she prays to the Gods to take her and put an end to the indescribable pain coursing through her body.

He looks down at where he’s thrusting in and out of her and smirks proudly at the sight of blood.

“It’s even better” he grunts to August, gripping her hips so tightly his nails break her skin.

“I’ll have to try it next” August says, slowly stroking himself as he watches Lloyd pound into the woman at their mercy over and over again, moaning to himself at the sound of her cries.

Lloyd lifts her hips higher, thrusting as hard as he can into her at the new angle, turning her cries into screams with every snap of his hip.

He lets out a long moan, throwing his head back as he cums hard, filling her with the same strange warmth August did.

“Gods, I’m doing that again” he pants as he slowly pulls himself out of her bloody back passage before slapping her ass, making her yelp as she collapses into the bed.

“You’ll get your chance. It’s your turn, Nick” August says, getting the attention of the third man standing on the other side of the room.

Until now, he’s not paid much attention to the events happening in the small room, trying to drown out her cries and think of anything other than what he wants to do to her.

It’s wrong, he knows it’s wrong, but he doesn’t care. He wants her. And it’s his turn to take her.

He slowly walks towards her, removing his armour as he does before gently turning her over and climbing into the bed.

“No more… please” she begs quietly as he spreads her legs with his knees and settles between them.

Asking for mercy is useless, she knows that. All she is to them is an object to seek pleasure from, to defile.

The only thing she can do is close her eyes and brace herself for the pain as he slowly pushes in, a long moan leaving him as he fills her.

But when he starts to move, the pain doesn't come.

She opens her eyes and stares at him, confused, and scared, by what she's feeling.

Why doesn’t it hurt?

Why is it so different?

Why does it feel… nice?

“Gods” she gasps, her eyes fluttering shut as he starts to speed up, letting out a moan that drowns out the one that slips past her lips.

She has no idea what he’s doing differently to August and Lloyd but she prays he keeps doing it because it feels good, amazing even.

Her mind races as she tries to understand what’s happening. Why does she feel bad, so embarrassed and ashamed, when what’s happening right now feels so good?

He moves his hips faster, harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room as he gropes one of her breasts before pinching her nipple hard, pulling another moan from her.

He slowly glides his hand up her chest to around her neck, squeezing the sides. The sudden restriction of air makes her panic and start clawing at his hands, making him squeeze even more.

Her eyes roll back as a weird pressure builds between her legs, making whatever he’s doing to her feel even better.

It suddenly breaks, making her moan loudly as a pleasant burning sensation washes over her, before everything goes black…

VENERIS FILIA TAG LIST: @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @themaradwrites @secretaryunpaid @pixie88 @aussieez @identity2212 @fanfics-r-us-official @km-ffluv @ktficworld @sillyrabbit81 @juliaorplI78 @kingliam2019 @thebejeweledwatercat @red-write-hand @queenzee27 @therockandaroll

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

Can you recommend me some good fics where Barry Allen gets kidnapped :) since in one of your tags you said you read a lot of them lol

I read them, I write them, I live and breathe them. Absolutely anon, allow me to dive into my bookmarks.

Just a reminder, always be sure to check the tags and warnings to know what you're getting into. Stay safe out there folks!

Juncture by @pennflinn may be my favorite fic of all time. Technically he gets kidnapped before the story's events but that's because it's an alternate ending to Escape from Earth-2 (and he is held captive for pretty much the entire fic so). The whump is SUPREME and the overall story is so well written. I will always recommend this fic.

One Second by pennflinn. Another one by penn because she is an incredible writer and HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS FIC!! It takes my favorite premise for a fic "What if Barry was kidnapped in this scene/episode when he wasn't in canon!" and brings it to a WHOLE nother level. This one is diverges from 1x14 "Fallout" where, instead of everyone getting away semi-safely, Eiling kidnaps Barry and whump ensures. BUT there's another twist to this fic that (in my opinion) makes it stand out from many others-- every once in a while, there's a glimpse of a parallel universe where the events were different and let's just say some of those universes h u r t. Also, I wanted to kill Eiling so bad after reading this that I wrote a ficlet with the sole purpose of murdering him :) Anyways, go read; it's amazing.

Miles Through The Night by @hedgiwithapen. First off, this is an everyone whump fic, Barry is not the only one who is kidnapped but 1. IT HURTS GODS IT HURTS SO BAD I'M DYING. 2. The writing is spectacular, all the characters are super well done, and the story is INTENSE I'M STILL DYING SORRY I'LL STOP NOW. In this one-- actually nvm, the actual summary will do it justice. "With Eobard Thawne dead, life in Central City can go back to normalish. But Barry’s greatest enemy is not a speedster from the future fixated on him, and Eobard’s threat may have been the only thing keeping Team Flash safe from someone who doesn’t consider any meta to be human." THAT'S RIGHT-- AN EILING FIC! Just. Go read it, it's so good and I'm dying.

Lightning Bug by Hedgi. The writing in this was SUPERB and Eiling is a fucking bastard as always (count your days general.). And this time we have another speedster in the mix-- a toddler Wally! Ngl, I just reread this while getting the link and it was SO GOOD-- and once again my words can't seem to do it justice so I'll leave you with the summary "Months after the defeat of Zoom, Barry's main concern (aside from the odd metahuman attack) is helping Joe and Iris raise the four and a half year old Speedster Wally West, Cisco-named "Lightning Bug." And while that's hard, it's nice to have this speedster as family, not an enemy. Things are pretty easy.

Unfortunately, that doesn't last. After all, General Eiling's deal was only good for as long as their mutual enemies were still a threat." Eiling needs to die in a ditch as you can see, but there's some really sweet whump in this and it's because of him soooooo-- anyways, go read; it was fantastic.

Can’t Take That Away From Me by SophiaCatherine (or @sophiainspace on here). DUDE. DUDE DUDE DUDE-- I LOVE THIS FIC. I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS FIC. EVen once the whump passes, the A N G S T is so delicious! From the beginning of the first chapter alone; you'll see the sweet whump AND angst this fic has in store. Oh, and it's Coldflash which I somehow forgot to mention even though that's a foundation of the entire fic lmao. I love it, go read. Also, there is a sequel but it's not Barry being whumped this time... double also; there's a prequel and it's really sweet (no whump in that one fyi)

I Never Told Him by messedupstargazer. I am SCREAMING. THIS. FIC. Fyi, it's Coldflash. SO MUCH ANGST THE WHUMP-- IT'S SO GOOD I HAVE NO WORDS. DYING DYING DYING I AM DEAD I HAVE PERISHED.

Looking through all of these at once has filled me with many emotions and I apologize if some parts were incoherent. I'm probably missing a few and may add more as I find them but for now I'll finish with these two I wrote.

12 hours Barry's kidnapped before the events of the story but I think it still counts. He's trapped in Zoom's lair and forced to run for twelve hours every day :)

Trophy this is my beloved and the entire fic is a Barry whump fest (and angst. a lot of angst.). (or will be, There's one chapter posted atm) Technically we haven't seen the kidnapping yet but in the first scene he is in a cell so. Premise is that Zoom wins in the season 2 finale and everything goes to hell from there. I do feel obligated to warn though that there's not a happy ending for this one.

Thanks for asking! I'm always eager to share Barry whump! :D

[ships-to-sail]

Dragging myself through the WIP trenches, waving sadly at my words hoping they return safely from the war, y'all. One of those kinds of weeks. But! Luckily I'm sitting on a few banked rival bakers snippets so until the weary muse returns:

“This does not ‘butter my biscuit’, what are you talking about you absolutely unhinged human being? I don’t even want to know what you mean by ‘it could be worse’.”  “I mean that he could not be a total babe. He could not have forearms that look like they could strangle a snake and then gently pet a newborn puppy. He could have been a total asshole about the fact that you two totally fucked and you couldn’t be bothered to remem—” “ —okay, yes, thank you. I said I didn’t want to know, remember?”  “Seriously though, Alex,” June says as she comes out of the bathroom, one hand twisting her hair off her neck and into a black hair clip. “I’m failing to see what the huge, world-ending, crisis-having, please-drive-back-from-Boston problem is.” “You mean other than the fact that this stupid fucking French bakery is going to put mom and dad out of business?!” It comes out so much harsher than it should, and he sees a sting of pain flash in June’s eyes. It wasn’t her fault, and it wasn’t her responsibility, and Alex knew both of those things. He was just so fucking frustrated, double so because now it was also sprinkled with a light dusting of feeling like a total fucking douche. “I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “That wasn’t fair, I’m just…UGH,” Alex groans and falls face-first onto the cushion next to the one he’s sitting on. He screams, an animal sound that comes from somewhere deep in his gut. “They’re not even fucking French!”

Tags below the cut, my doves, and don't forget to tag me back so I can read all the gorgeous words yall are creating right now!

@affectionatelyrs @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @firenati0n @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @daisymae-12 @everwitch-magiks @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @lizzie-bennetdarcy-afterdark @myheartalivewrites @notspecialbabe @orchidscript @rmd-writes @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland @whimsymanaged @kiwiana-writes

[jasonsthunderthighs]

Warnin’

A/N: Oh, the angst~

Synopsis: You got into a situation to work for The Joker. He wanted the wild second Robin to use against Batman, and decided to give you a warnin when you failed to retrieve Robin. Also sorry for not writin your requests I've been given to write. Life got in the way and I've been depressed and busy.

Words: ~700

Warnin: Gore in a little bit of detail. I was watchin a horror film writin this.

You woke up strapped to a chair in the middle of a dark, cold room. The strap on your neck to keep your head in place isn't givin you any room to move to look ‘round. You tried to free yourself from the restraints keepin you still. This isn't good.

You tried to yell out, only to mumble out words through a cloth tightly tied to your head and in your mouth.

A creepy laughter followed by a voice speaks out, walkin out of the shadows to reveal The Joker, grinnin sadistically at you. “Long time no see.”

“Joker..” you muffled out, glarin at him as you tried to wriggle myself free from the restraints.

“Now, now. Where are your manners? Not a nice way to greet someone, not like THAT. Don't you ‘member our deal? You'll be free from this when you get me that pesky Robin.”

You don't know where he's at. He just wants the Boy Wonder to torture and show Batman what he's done to the sidekick.

“That's all you need to do. He's a smart little Bird.. You just need to do your part.. That's all.” Joker holds up a blade, tappin the tip of the blade with his fingertips.

You squirm in the tight restraints, tryin to get the gag out of your mouth to speak.

“I really don't care what you have to say on this. Just know that you have failed and I'm here to remind you of that.” Joker tells you, gettin closer to you as he flaunts the blade in your face, knowin your fate.

“Please don't. Not again. I don't want to go through this again. Please.” you cried out muffled words through the gag as they fall on deaf ears, feelin the blade against your skin of your neck as he digs deeper in your neck, drawin blood.

“Pretty eyes you have. I'll only take one. Be lucky it wasn't your tongue. As you'll be needin it. You'll get use to your vision. You didn't need two eyes.. Be a good kid and ACTUALLY finish your task. And you'll get your freedom AND full vision back..” He finished, holdin your eye to you.

“No. You need another reminder. Seems like you can't ever learn. Especially with what I give you to even help yourself with this task. You'd rather slow down my progress instead of wantin your freedom. YOU got yourself in this. Don't ever forget that.” He took his fingers to your left eye, fishin out your eye from the socket as you scream out and flail round in your restraints, easily pluckin your eye out completely as you cried out through the gag in agony.

You could barely see with your only workin eye as your left empty socket bleeds out, only makin out a blurry vision of The Joker's twisted grin as he holds up your eye to observe.

Breathin heavily into the gag, visibly shakin from the torture you just went through. “Please.. No more.” your voice hoarse and muffled by the gag, tryin to breathe out normally to get through the pain you're in, feelin so weak as Joker takes the cloth out of your mouth and undoes the restraints, lettin you fall to the cold harsh ground.

“This was just me bein easy on you. Next is your fingers.” He tells you, bendin down to watch you struggle in pain, grabbin a fist full of your hair tightly in his fingers, liftin your head up to him, makin you hiss out in from the harsh movement.

“I'll.. Get him, Joker..” You breathed out slowly and raspy, feelin the blood from your empty socket roll down your cheek, “I-I promise.. This time..”

“Oh, I'm sure you won't fail me again.” He holds your eye that's now in a jar to your face, cacklin out loud from your expression of defeat and pain he inflicted on you. “Right?”

He helps you nod your head ‘yes’, whimperin in pain, afraid of what he's to do next. “Y-yes..” you softly cried out, the intense pain from your missin eye leaves you dizzy and cold, unable to think of what to even do next as your vision goes to black.

“Good.” He smiles, lettin go of you and watchin your face hit the cold hard floor as you laid there weak and unconscious. Cacklin widely as he leaves you alone in the room.

~~~~~~~

This was originally written cause I was bored with my OCs and universe from my book I'm writin. Just decided to word it differently, since it was also in first person and different details were changed and edited. Comment, like and reblog if you want a second part.

[joyfuladorable]

Fuck it, here's all my favorite Mikey-centric fanfics!!

There's A LOT + personal blurbs, so they're going under the cut (Mostly AO3, but there are some FFN links, too. Also, besides like the first two, there's no favoritism in the order)

2k3:

Pretend That I Never Left by redstringraven(sirimiri) - Complete/Plans for an Epilogue & Sequel!!

Fic that changed my BRAIN?! If my fanart [1 | 2 | 3] for it is any indicator, lol. I'll say for the umpteenth time that if you're looking for an Excellent Mikey fic with Perfect Characterization, this is IT (and you don't need to know ANYTHING about HZD trust me TRUST ME this fic deserves WAY more love) His swift ride-or-die friendship with Aloy will melt your damn heart!

Dragon of the Sun by ForestWhisper3 - Ongoing

My Other TOP favorite Mikey fic!! Again, fanart [1 | 2 | 3] indicator! Slow Burn(ish) Canon Divergence of Mikey unlocking his Mystic Powers as his family looks on in dismay as they struggle to protect him. The Good Shit!!!

Of Darkness And Light by Bayluff - Complete

OOOOOOO THIS ONE! Very good (also drew fanart for it)! Evil creature literally trying to consume Mikey's lifeforce from within as his family scrambles to help

A Chat With The Titan by secreterces5 - Complete

Mikey has a fun one-on-one talk with the supposedly reformed Bishop in Fast Forward. Mikey vaguely threatening Bishop, HEEHEE

A Simple Act Of Kindness by UlisaBarbic - Complete

That feel when you put your worth in what you can DO and the wish to be Acknowledged and the ONE thing you thought you did right was taken away OOGH AGH OOOOGH

Difficulty Breathing by RealityBreakGirl - Complete

Mikey did not come out of Grudge Match unscathed *smile* Truly one of my favorite 03 Mikey prompts to read about (honestly just check the entirety of the Grudge Match tag on AO3 for a fun time)

"A delivery boy! Uh, or turtle." by LollyHolly99 - Complete

Fic that has the distinction of being the first one I ever did fanart for! Gender Feels for Mikey cuz they're just like me FR!!

What Darkness Most Fears by UlisaBarbic - Complete

OOOGH AGH I LOVE THIS ONE!! Mikey has to save his bros from the clutches of an evil spirit while surviving horrifying monsters and battling a wicked fever!

Michelangelo by ForestWhisper3 - Complete

Mikey through the eyes of his family and how much they respect him and know him UwU

Mikey's Jigsaw by SailorSaysAhoy - Complete

Another awesome gender Mikey fic HOOHAA

Train-Wreck of Thought by halogalopaghost - Complete

When you're so talented you learn how to astral project but you start using it for pranks instead of understanding the drawbacks of said power and that bites you majorly in the ass big time (very good my stomach turned while reading this /pos)

A Brother's Bond by SuperKat - Complete

Mikey gets Real Sick and the fam can't help but remember last time one of them got so ill. OH MAN heartstrings WILL be pulled in this one!!

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year by moogsthewriter - Complete

Why can't Mikey ever catch a break during Christmas! A short fic that I enjoy Immensely for Mikey being stubbornly heroic and his family desperately trying to play catch up to help him

Questioning Choices by Mystic Medjai - Complete

Fun day at the beach goes catastrophically bad and the fam has to make difficult decisions to keep Mikey alive. THIS THIS THIS!! If I could pour this into my veins for the perfectly paced plot and characterization...

When It Counts by Kallasilya - Complete

Short fic of Mikey stubbornly and bitterly proving his brothers wrong (+ Don being a good brother)

Favourite Disease by devirnis - Complete

Mikey is forced to save his brothers as his body gradually falls apart from the inside. SO GOOD UGH Mikey being forced to deal with situations on his own always show how far he can Shine!

Nowhere Boy by taizi - Complete

OOOH I dunno how I can summarize this without giving the plot away but just know Mikey pulls through by thinking of his family

To Fit the Crime by T33la - Complete

AHHH AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHHHHH!! Mikey is accused of Murder and receives his sentence before his brothers can even jump to his defense! Oh the twists and turns of this murder mystery!!

you want to know why i sit and sigh (the night is so young it hurts) by love_killed_the_superstar - Complete

Angel and Mikey bonding over comics and unsupportive brothers So Cute)

imma be real with you (cause i started being real with me) by love_killed_the_superstar - Complete

Leo and Usagi being supportive of Mikey as he struggles to train for the upcoming Battle Nexus fight (and also maybe they flirt with each other a teensy bit)

just a hop, skip, and a jump away by baba_buoy - Complete

Mikey sick fic. Heart melting amounts of comfort UwU

Weak Link by yellowhollyhock - Complete

Sweet fic of Mikey feeling insecure about his place on the team, and Leo going through great lengths to prove him wrong like a good older brother :')

'Cause you are the sun, he is your moon/And though he can't speak, he will thank you soon by naivesilver - Complete

Post-Grudge Match Mikey waking up in the middle of the night bitter and sore and gods damn why's Raph awake, too?

Hunted by DysfunctionalRequest - Complete

Mikey wandering the woods alone in the middle of the night and having a VERY unfortunate encounter with hunters

Flipbook by T33la - Complete

Heartfelt moment between Mikey and Don concerning SAINW that makes me want to smash a cinder block against my head /pos

Dramaturgy by Completely_Unaware - Ongoing

Mind the tags! Mikey deals with a Battle Nexus loss in an unhealthy way (UmU)

The Red Means I Love You (Work) by AnonymousCritter - Ongoing

MIND THE TAGS! AU of Fast Forward. Mikey isn't saved from the traffickers in time and things spiral from there

The So-Called "Champion of the Battle Nexus" by 0ozero0 - Ongoing

Grudge Match canon divergence where Mikey gets hurt a little more seriously than in canon (but still wins)

2012:

Devil took your hand by moogsthewriter & taizi - Complete

Mikey mind controlled by the Shredder moment!! *laughs through my pain and tears and screaming*

walk with open hands by taizi - Complete

Mikey gets his hands on one of Renet's watches and things go topsy turvy from there (and it HURTS ME)

(un)reality by SpectrumWriting - Complete

Mind the Tags! Dimension X AU where Mikey is captured by the Kraang and is put through the wringer in more ways than one (OWIE)

evermore (Dimension X AU) series by coffeejellyenthusiast - Complete?

Mind the Tags! Mikey was in Dimension X for over a year and he's NOT OKAY

Gravitational Collapse series by Writing_In_Denial - Ongoing

MIND THE TAGS!! An Incredible it gets worse before it gets better series of Mikey being unintentionally abandoned by his brothers post-series and dealing with some Major Isolation and OOOGH IT HURTS ME SO MUCH BUT I WILL KEEP READING FOR THE EVENTUAL COMFORT

traveling so far to get there by taizi - Complete

Mikey and Raph getting stuck in an empty, post-apocalyptic world and struggling to survive (their BOND IN THIS IS SO SWEET WEH)

Rise:

nice, nice by postergirlsprank - Complete

Short fic of Casey Sr and Mikey bonding after an unfortunate encounter while on a snack run (Hey if you want more context for how this author writes Casey, go read his fic Imperfect Animals too heehoo)

either way, we're not alone by sinaesthesis - Complete

Mikey throughout the years of the Kraang Apocalypse (Lots of Loss and Hurt and Badassery)

going under by redhairedmuses - Complete

Mikey almost drowns during a fight with a mutant

Hyperactive Hypothermia by VeryAngryGremlin - Complete

After Mikey's winter wear accidentally goes in flames and a villain-enduced avalanche, Donnie struggles to keep his baby brother warm

that’s where the blood’s supposed to be! by Dragon_Scales_and_Fairy_Tales - Complete

With Raph and Leo constantly bickering, Mikey ignores a very serious injury after a fight with Meat Sweats

Clever Little Dino! by VeryAngryGremlin - Complete

Mikey trying to keep a robot pet a secret and suffering the consequences

Vs The World by DysfunctionalRequest - Complete

The aftermath of the Kraang strains the family's bonds, and Mikey feels hopelessly alone (and definitely isn't dealing with his trauma properly)

Empathy Amplified by Filsamek - Complete

When you accidentally use your powers to connect with your brothers' emotions then purposefully use them to ease their pain

Sunshine in the Rain by Carnati0n_bl00m - Complete

Probably the first fic I read after watching the Rise movie cuz I wanted to find something Mikey-centric involving Bishop and BOY does it deliver with the additional bonus of Leatherhead!! (also hey look fanart)

A Mystic Connection by rytheoneandonly - Complete

Mikey's mystic powers manifesting and evolving in ways he could never predict (aka Long Fic of Mikey stumbling to figure out why he wakes up exhausted and hurt every night)

The whole world in your corner series by GibbousLunation - Complete

Two fics of Mikey being Mikey and his bros being protective

Better Check Twice by Marz_Zero - Ongoing

Bishop captures a turtle with a bear trap (OW) and is an absolute bastard about it

Come Home Soon by Sherlock_Brolmes - Ongoing

With his brothers unavailable, Mikey (with the help of a former enemy) uncovers a massive conspiracy involving New York and the Hidden City. I LOVE THIS I LOVE SOLO DUO TEAM-UPS!!!! *PUNCHES THE AIR 13 TIMES*

Mikey's Artistic Guide to Dealing with Trauma and Fame by Origami_Nami - Ongoing

Mikey using graffiti as an outlet and accidentally becoming famous

Rook by unorthodoxx - Ongoing

Another Bishop fic of him outwitting the turtles to abduct one of them (Mikey)

Multi/Other:

Mystic Malfunction by VanillaVengeance - Ongoing

Rise Mikey accidentally portals himself to the 2012 Universe and struggles to survive and avoid this other version of his family (with mixed success). The progression of familial bonds in this is just *Chef's Kiss*

The Gauntlet by T33la - Complete

A mix of IDW & 03, a wonderful showcase of how Donnie and Mikey support each other (also, a cool invention and a big rocket and a terrifying near-death experience are involved)

I Get Knocked Down (But I Get Up Again) by Justalittleobsessed - Ongoing

MIND THE TAGS!!! Set in its own original iteration, Mikey has been immortal for as long as he can remember, and he's used to his occasional deaths (and revivals). But then his brothers find out... (AGH AGH THIS ALSO HURTS MEEEEE BUT OOGH the comfort and hope of the later chapters is so Worth It)

Whumptober 2023 series by Justalittleobsessed - Ongoing?

Collection of Mikey-centric one-shots from different iterations and feeling the HURT (Personal favorites are If Only the World Could Stop Spinning..., Just a Flesh Wound, and Not the Best of Days)

To Know Peace (You Gotta Let Go) by Deadpool1763492 - Ongoing (technically)

The Last Ronin Spoilers!! Mikey survives and whisks the new turtle tots away to live on a farm instead of being raised as soldiers. (AUUUUUU THE FEELS!! THE TOTS! MIKEYYYY!!!)

How to accidentally kidnap yourself several times over by Camildeni - Ongoing

Rise Mikey gets captured and accidentally summons other iterations (03, 12, and Bay) of himself trying to get out! They do NOT have a good time!! (but at least they have each other)

the dad diaries by angelmichelangelo - Ongoing

More TLR Mikey being a Dad (and dealing with his trauma sorta kinda)

The neighboring cell by SaltyYagi - Ongoing

2012 Mikey and Rise Leo trying to escape Dimension X together (and bonding)

Bonus Non-Mikey-centric:

Weathered Strings, Tethered Wings by Deadpool1763492 - Ongoing

(2003) SAINW AU!!! With the possibility of Don being alive dangled in front of them, the remaining turtles begrudgingly reunite to save him. Drew a cover for this with more art to come! LOVING the slow burn of reconciliation between these bitter old turtles UwU (Bitter Old Mikey my poor Bestie)

Mutant Nightmare by HamsterMasterSamster - Complete

(2003) The immediate aftermath of Worlds Collide

Hanging By A Turtle by CamsthiSky - Complete

(Rise) Literally the turtles struggling to get out of a deep pit they're hanging over

Shell Game by T33la - Complete

(2003) OKAY OKAY SO!!! OOGH Don encounters something Impossible while prepping a tracking device (for himself) and it snowballs into another Renet-involved time adventure (AND UMMM lots of existential contemplation and a surprise historical guest who's Very Cool)

Turtle Power by halogalopaghost - Complete

(2003) Immediate aftermath of the star ship reactor explosion in Exodus

Disposable by orphan_account (kudos to you wherever you are, author) - Complete

(2003) Bishop captures Don and Mikey and gives them a terrible choice

Dissection by AmevelloBlue - Complete

(2003) So much Comfort after the trauma of Worlds Collide (ie Don's interrogation and Mikey almost getting sliced open)

Find the Road by SillySocks - Complete

(2003) Perfect encapsulation of the family as they cope with Leo's absence while he trains with the Ancient One

Handle with Care by HamsterMasterSamster - Complete

(2003) April is seriously injured during a mission and has to deal with the turtles distancing themselves from her as she recovers

mind-body problem by hiraethseok - Complete

(2003) April and the Turtles Being Siblings the Fic

Healing in Tandem by Eggstasy - Complete

(2003) Canon divergence of Worlds Collide where Splinter is just a little too late to intervene before Bishop starts sawing into Mikey's shell

Let's Take Ibuprofen Together by GreenGoddessSmoothie - Ongoing

(2003) The turtles swap body and have learn to cope with each other's chronic pain

Not the Face I Know by GreenGoddessSmoothie - Ongoing

(2003) Mikey accidentally makes a wish that changes his family's lives forever (THEY'RE HUMAN THEY BECOME HUMAN AND THE PLOT IS COOL AND ALSO QUEER THEMES MY BELOVED)

The Great Skittle Heist of 2105 by AmevelloBlue - Ongoing

(2003) AU of Fast Forward where the Dark Turtles are babies instead and are very swiftly adopted by the Fam

The Labyrinth by HALFnHALF1 - Ongoing

(Mix of IDW/03) The Turtles wake up separated in a labyrinth with only a mysterious voice in their heads to guide them (and manipulate them)

“You didn’t tell me your extended family was in town!” by BoStaffsAreCool - Ongoing

Post-Turtles Forever. The 03 fam is Just beginning to wind down after the events of the movie and look who's knocking at April's door (the 87 turtles)

[beeduoo]

originnssssss who remembers origins i Loved origins

Lowkey i ate with rhis actually no i didn't i ate wirh rhat ENDER EYE Why is it so rendered Hello

IGNORW RHEIR UGLY UGLY DESIGNS This was before they switched to their iconic Skins past e didn't know......

[ladybeug]

MAN THE MUSICAL NUMBERS CAUGHT ME SO OFF GUARD I HAD TO PAUSE AND STARE FROWNING okok!!! so the thing was that one time agessss ago you said liking ml fanfics is just wanting to read the same story over and over again and after that textbook 2016 post reveal final kiss that sentence just flashed in my mind and everything that happened in the movie (the ladynoir patrol fighting in the rooftops, the adrien snapping at his dad, gabriel being actually decent) just shifted in context for me and the realization of how fanfic coded the movie is and how that directly related to my enjoyment was so clear i couldnt stop laughing hdhshsjs

WOW ACTUALLY

i remember saying that and its STILL TRUE!! And honestly you're putting it in perspective for me, thats why i liked the things i liked about the movie. like the ladynoir patrol fighting on the roofs also did lowkey make my dreams come true they could have done whatever they wanted in the rest of the movie, that scene is what i live for.

And that last scene really did feel like it was out of a fanfic, A 2016 FANFIC, its OLD FANDOM VIBES. back when we were still chewing up the concept of a reveal and not picking apart the bones of adrien's identity like mad scientists.

I remember thinking im sure ive read this scene somewhere. idk where but i have. all of it in different pieces a million times.

Anyways thank you for sharing this i love it?? good take

[krisget-thebanana]

Oopsies my hand slipped and I drew this

[todayisafridaynight]

any hopes for kiwami 3? like things u wanna see added or changed stuff like that

if they dont keep kiryu's goofy walk stance and the hoof-like walk sounds i dont wanna play it

[itsthegirlinthebowtie]

fulcrum….sabine finally wearing her armor…!!! ahsoka flexing and using only one lightsaber against the inquisitor because she only needs one to absolutely destroy them…very snips of her…. “funny, he never mentioned you”!!! carson teva my boy…the way sabine caved because she loves Ezra and couldn’t bring herself to risk losing the opportunity to get him back…fucking ANAKIN AND AHSOKA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT FUCKING HAPPENED FUCK I’M NOT OKAY. HER FACE WHEN SHE HEARD HIS VOICE NOBODy TALK TO ME