#thank god i know how to handle em

[ch4osm4ster]

The birthday experience

[britneyshakespeare]

i have been working with kids for four years and i had to write my first ever note just now about a seventh grade boy being inappropriate towards me. i don't know what the hell this could possibly lead to or what. he was trying to feel my legs repeatedly to the point where i had to stop sitting next to him (and i was subbing for his one-to-one para!!!). he's got high support needs. in that kind of job, you're supposed to sit next to them all day and look over their work.

the teacher whose classroom this was happening in could also tell something was wrong. the whole class was acting kinda crazy because it was the day before school vacation week and there was another class coming in to share projects. so like, he was swamped with keeping order already. but we were sitting two feet away from his podium at the front of the room. the kid was giving him and me a hard time when he wouldn't take out his chromebook as he was instructed. and then when he did take out his chromebook, he immediately, for some reason, places it on my lap. he had been ogling my legs the whole time. he puts his computer ON MY LAP. and i'm just like, stunned, because what the hell? can you not keep it on your own lap, for some reason? i don't even know what to say, i just hold it a little above my lap while i'm thinking why on earth would this be happening? he would NOT do this to his regular para if she were here, would he? this can't be normal.

and the teacher sees this and within a minute places a stool in front of the kid for him to put his laptop on. and i'm like. oh ok. yeah. he notices exactly what's happening and that that's not appropriate. and then when the other class comes in to share projects he tells me "miss b——, you don't actually have to sit next to c—— this whole period if you don't want to." and he grabs me a chair for me to go sit with the other paras in the back opposite corner of the room. like he KNEW. and thank you mr. d—— for recognizing that because i was just kind of shocked and didn't know if i was overreacting in my head to all of this.

when there's a point in the class where the kids are discussing stuff, i privately mention what's happened to the para who's sitting closest to me. and she says that the thing about him calling me pretty is something he's been known to do, but the fact that he kept trying to touch my legs is new behavior. and that's a completely different class of behavior. i was telling him NO, don't do that, and he kept doing it. and the fact that he was calling me pretty repeatedly, even when i was giving him instructions that he wasn't taking. and this is the second to last class before the end of the day, so she says she'll take a walk with him before learning center and talk to him about it, and i'm grateful for that. she does. the kid apologizes to me as soon as i come into learning center. but like. WHAT the hell.

i'm STILL like what the hell. this is unfathomable to me. the other adults who i told about this or who witnessed it were supportive of me. but. what to do??? i wrote a long note to his regular para about this, because i knew she was going to hear about it at least from the first para i told. the second para i told about it after school had a kind of... i'm not gonna say enabling reaction, but i suppose since it had already been "taken care of" (or at least, he had been spoken to and apologized) she didn't really have much to add in the way of discipline. i told her what happened after school and she was just like... a little bit, laughing? like oh, yup, that dog. she at the very least confirmed he KNEW what he was doing, that that was not an accident. she said to me "i had a feeling he was going to develop a crush on you" (me and these other paras were together for most of the beginning of the day too). but it's like. it's not about that.

i have worked with children for FOUR years. children have had crushes on me before; i'm quite unfazed by it. boys from the ages of 5-to-15 have told me i'm so pretty before and asked me to marry them. i've never had them feeling up my legs before. i've never had them making me physically uncomfortable. it's NOT about this seventh grader having a crush on the pretty substitute. he is NOT unusual for that, at all. but i've never had a boy of any age or education level repeatedly touching my knees and thighs. THAT is problem behavior!!!

because what if i wasn't assertive enough with him to tell him to stop? what if i was a girl his age? worse, what if i was an adult who encouraged this behavior? i don't come to the middle school to be a seductress. i had no intention in putting on a pair of tights and a skirt this morning of being viewed as an attractive object, especially not by a pubescent boy. what if i did though? what if his interpretation of me wasn't so incorrect and offensive? what if i let him keep touching me inappropriately and saying flirtatious things to me? me, an adult in my mid-twenties, towards a middle school boy?

in no world would that be ok. if i had been feeling up and overly-complimenting a CHILD at my place of work, holy shit would there be reports about me. so a child acting that way could never be ok either. if it'd be firable for me to be reciprocating that action, then that action should not be happening to me. ever. and that child should never repeat that action again to any other adult again.

like i am simply not there to be treated as an attractive young woman. i put on a skirt that shows too much knee and get paired with a boy, though, and that's apparently just a natural consequence. hooo-ly shit. like i don't know what to do. first of all, the more time passes since this has happened, the more i am just unable to stop thinking about it. i wasn't "hurt" or too emotional in the moment but i'm just still processing it and it gets worse. i'm just more and more disgusted.

i don't know what i expect to come out of this, or the email i sent to his regular para. like, am i gonna have to attend a fucking meeting? what is the precedent that this sets for him? WHY do i feel BAD for him about this? well, because he's a child, of course. a child who has done wrong he may not be able to understand. but he knows WHAT he did. he just doesn't know WHY it was wrong.

and i couldn't even say something to him that was like, "well, how would you like it if i was touching you like this?" because young boys do not understand how inappropriate it'd be. i'm sure this kid thought he was gonna get away with what he was doing at the very least. but probably not unlikely he (being a child with no concept of how wrong it'd be) thought he could get some sort of "positive" attention for treating me like this. either way he was simply doing what he wanted to do, with no perspective of how it would make me feel or that it could be classified as harassment. teenage boys think it'd be awesome if the older attractive woman would reciprocate their affections. they're wrong. i, as the older attractive woman of his affection, cannot be the one to convince him of that, though.

i don't know. i don't know. like it's just so not ok. but if i didn't tell another adult about this, he would've gotten away with it. he would probably do it again. and him being in trouble for it is not the same as him understanding that it was wrong. unless someone has a REAL talk with him about inappropriate attention and consent, it's not unlikely that he'll just repeat the behavior in a setting where he thinks he won't be caught or told on. THAT'S the problem. me, i could just never have to be this boy's para again. in my email, i didn't say that i would never be ok working with or around him ever again. he already knows i didn't like it and i'm not afraid to tell on him; as far as that lesson applies to me, individually, i think he's become too ashamed to repeat that.

i don't know. i don't know. i very much expressed that i, i guess, "forgave" him in the email that i wrote. i clarified that i was writing it for the sake of having it on the record. i think that could potentially be very important for the purposes of preventing further similar or escalating behavior from him in the future. i don't want him to be in trouble. i don't think i will be blamed for this, especially not with how promptly i acted, although i don't know to what extent this will be framed as me thinking i'm a "victim." i'm not... i don't feel victimized. i feel disgusted. i feel afraid for the sake of what could happen to or with him in the future, if he thinks behavior like his towards me today is ok.

i feel like if i end up having to further respond to this, this will be made about me. in a way it kind of was. is? in the moment it was happening, it was certainly about me. because i was the one this boy was giving all this unwanted attention to. but to make the consequences of this about me and to involve me any further, i also don't want. because i said what i said already, i don't care if a student has a crush on me. this isn't about me being the pretty substitute. i'm the pretty substitute all the time, to tons of people. that's not really something i've been concerned about up until now.

but do i have to reexplain my personal embarrassment? that i was wearing a skirt? that he was ogling my legs? really? what more do i have to gain from sharing that, other than having the adults at my place of work confirm or deny me in their heads as the pretty substitute? i don't know. perhaps that's REALLY overthinking it. but i don't want to be the substitute that caused a problem for this special ed kid. i don't wanna be the reason that he can't be around me anymore, the person people think of when they're monitoring how he's acting around girls and young women. i DON'T want to be the one people think of when they think of his past misbehavior. i'm NOT here for that.

that's just fucking humiliating. and in this being a thing that could follow him, i have to be ogled and touched over and over again in people's minds for this to be taken seriously. but for this to be swept under the rug would be even worse, no? i don't know. i hate this. the principal is a nice guy; i wouldn't be surprised if he and/or people from the special ed department reached out to me sympathetically about this. but i don't wanna be reached out to. i don't wanna have ppl i work with tell me "sorry that kid was just so attracted to you he couldn't help himself" like come on. if the kid himself doesn't change then i don't really care to remember this incident. and no one reaching out to me and saying they've talked to this kid will actually prove to me he understands. this is the kind of inappropriate behavior it takes years for people to understand why it was wrong, especially a child who has no idea. i mean come on.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[webslingingslasher]

i always imagine peter’s hair as fluffy but yk how when it’s wet it curls. imagine seeing nerdy peter’s hair wet/curly for the first time

i picture he has fluffy curly hair?? it’s much more curly when it’s wet but they’re not as defined when dry.

but (and this is projecting) i love me some curls. so obv, reader does too.

---

‘oh my god!’

peter jumps, you have a finger pointed behind him. ‘oh my god!’ he starts to spin around, ‘what? what is it?’

you can’t form words, all you can think of is ‘oh my god?!’ peter whines out for you, he doesn’t know what’s freaking you out. ‘c'mon, help me out, you’re scaring me.’

peter assumes he has a spider on him, he doesn’t know how he can’t sense it, but your quick calls for him to come closer makes him guess you’re about to swipe him clean.

until your hands dig into his hair, peter shakes you off before stepping back. 'hey, c'mon now. i just washed it.' he did. he also tried to style it, but nothing could hide those coils.

'curls.' your hands have a mind of their own but peter dodges the attack. a pout covers your face, 'curls?'

'i'm saddened to know you've been blind up to this point, but very happy you finally noticed them.' he's having fun with it, you're not. you never get to see them like this.

'peter!' your grabby hands don't do anything, it makes you feel slightly grumpy. all you wanted to do was fawn over the baby curls kissing his ears.

'fine, you have dumb hair. and stupid curls. and... it's too long.'

peter raises an eyebrow, his arms cross over his chest. 'oh really?' you're being challenged, you can't back down. an unconfident head nod was your response.

'thank god you said something, cause i thought you liked it long, but now i know i can cut it off and you won't mind.' you chew on your bottom lip while staring at the brunette.

'how short?' because there's some room to work around, you can handle a summer chop. your boyfriend shrugs, 'more than a buzzcut.'

the words hit you like a crowbar to the knees, you have to back down. you can't lose his curls, you can't. 'no! please no! i love your hair and your curls and it's not long enough!'

peter hits you with a sympathetic pout, 'oh? so, not dumb and stupid?' your feet lightly stomp the ground, 'they're extra curly today, c'mon, please?'

even if he's walking closer, he's still teasing you. 'it's insane how much power my hair has over you.' you light up, you can almost feel the soft pleats over your fingertips.

'yeah, yeah, yeah. can i have?' peter blocks your hands one more time, you're about to scream. 'you know they're mine, right?'

'sure. yeah, if that's what you need to believe.' peter tilts backwards when you reach out, you hate to be that person, but...

'i swear to fucking god, peter, if you ever want to see me naked again, you better let me grab 'em.' in under a millisecond you have your fingers twisted around his hair, a satisfied smile spreads. 'pretty curls.' 

[miniimight]

Hiiii idk if you’re doing requests rn but I just ADORE how you write Izuku and katsuki like omg-

Anyways- my meds are causing me some crazy nightmares lately and I was wondering how they would handle you waking up from a nightmare???

If you don’t take requests then forget this ever happened :’)

Have a nice day byeeeeee!!!

NIGHTMARES you wake up in a start and wake them up in the process

with izuku & katsuki

notes guys i know ive been away for way too long im so sorry!!! :( i'm in the process of moving so it's stressful T-T thanks for the request, anon, hope those nightmares got/get better :( <3

it was so vivid. your mind sunk into an alternate reality that captured all your senses. you felt yourself spiraling deeper and deeper, faster and faster—

your body jolted upright with a breathless yell and a sharp gasp, the world stilling for a mere second...

and then you leaned over your knees, your lungs racing to catch up with your need for oxygen. your chest felt tight and you squeezed your eyes, remembering that your boyfriend was laying peacefully beside you.

you peeked to your side and found him staring right back—wide, bright eyes piercing into your own—sending a shock through your body.

IZUKU

"god, izuku, you scared me—" you sighed, your hand pressing on your stomach as if that would make the uneasy feeling disappear.

"i scared you?" he sat up further, scooching closer to your side. "you scared me, angel. are you okay? you're out of breath, honey. let's do it together, okay?"

you whimpered softly as you tried to follow his guide. izuku could tell you were in distress and it took everything to stop himself from overwhelming you with questions. he just laced his fingers with yours and squeezed.

"good job, honey." izuku praised you ever-so-softly, rubbing your back soothingly. "feeling a bit better?"

you nodded, frowning. "m'sorry for waking you—"

"angel." he whined, letting his eyes do all the talking. "don't do that! please, don't do that." he actually sounded offended.

you looked away from him, your throat hurting from holding back tears. "it's been happening all the time, though, and you need your rest. maybe i should take the guest room?" you were more talking to yourself than anything, but izuku refused to let you entertain such an idea.

izuku's shoulders slumped, the shock fading as drowsiness began to overtake him. he smiled lazily, fighting a yawn. "y/n, even if i knew you would wake me up every night for the rest of time, i'd still choose to be here beside you."

you turned to face him, the horror of your nightmare slowly fading to the back of your mind. "really?"

"really." he confirmed.

you smiled, letting your head rest on your knees as you stared at him lovingly.

the rustle of sheets and whistle of wind reminded the both of you that it was indeed the middle of the night. izuku tugged you closer by your waist, pulling you back onto the bed. he groaned softly, stretching a little before he relaxed against you. "did you wanna talk about it?"

you pursed your lips. curling into his embrace, you immediately felt warmer. "...not right now."

he kissed your forehead. "don't worry, i'll always be right here to protect you from anything your head throws at you. you just tell me and let me at 'em." he kissed you again before wrapping both arms around you.

his steady breathing and soft snores brought a fond smile to your face. you found yourself falling asleep despite the night's events.

KATSUKI

you both stared at each other for a good few seconds before you spoke up.

"sorry for waking you," you mumbled, still having trouble managing your breathing. you turned away from him, pressing your palms into your eyes.

"no," he whispered with a softness reserved for you only. "you didn't wake me."

you stared at him through the darkness and could see him so clearly. "katsuki—"

"shh, it's okay, baby." he gave you a soft smile, once again reassuring you. "come 'ere."

you sniffed as you inched closer. katsuki gently took your arm and pulled you the rest of the way right into his arms. his hand fell to your waist, tracing little shapes and lines as he allowed you time.

"wanna talk about it?" he asked.

you shook your head.

"okay." he squeezed your shoulder, kissing your cheek. he figured you'd tell him when you were ready—the last thing he wanted to do was stress you out even more. it was hard, not to get all the answers on what was bothering was you... it was in his nature to want to make all your problems go away. "what do you need?"

you hand wound around his torso, hugging him back. "um..." you shuddered as you breathed in. "just you."

he smiled against your skin. "yeah? promise you're not holding back on me?"

you giggled. "yes."

"cuz you know i'd do literally anything—"

you sat up slightly, turning to face him with a swat to his chest. your face burned and it was a struggle to recall the images of your nightmare. "katsuki! oh my god."

"what?" he scrunched his nose. his eyes never left you. "it's true."

you returned to your spot between his arm. "just you."

"whatever you say." he pressed his lips to your temple before he got comfy. he sighed. "goodnight, pretty. wake me when those stupid nightmares bug you again, okay?"

your heart fluttered and your smile grew out of your control. "okay."

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[love-belle]

loved you three summers !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which she's living her dream and he's just her biggest supporter.

or

for when you know it'll be them, forever and always. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // pierre gasly x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - hope u like it!! thank you so much for reading, i love you <3 requests are still open!!

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, lilymhe, yourbestfriend and 357,825 others

pierregasly missing this one and her astonishing but understandable lack of enthusiasm about life

tagged yourusername

5,528 comments

username she's so pretty oh my god

username genuine question can pierre fight

-> yourusername no he cannot

-> pierregasly stfu yes i can

username she's so me

username THIS COUPLE OMG

username in love with their relationship like ❤️❤️❤️❤️

landonorris missing my uno opponent

-> yourusername miss making you cry during uno

-> landonorris IT WAS ONE TIME LET IT GO

username i want her

yourusername missing u and ur annoying gossip too ig

-> pierregasly don't act like u don't text me everyday ASKING for gossip

-> yourusername lies

username they're so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by pierregasly, lilymhe, danielricciardo and 57 others

yourusername duality of student life

26 comments

landonorris can u even handle that much alcohol ?

-> yourusername says the one who passed out after drinking tequila

-> landonorris I WAS TIRED OKAY

danielricciardo i would drink colourful shit in the first picture

-> yourusername my dude that's phenolphthalein and methyl orange

lilymhe missing u so bad rn

-> yourusername too real missing my wife :///

carlossainz55 please call pierre he's crying

-> pierregasly STFU NO IM NOT

-> yourusername HELP OMG

pierregasly TOTALLY not crying because i love you!!!!!!! NOT at all!!!!!!!!!!

-> yourusername ofc!!!!!!!!! i believe u!!!!!!!!

pierregasly i love you ❤️

-> yourusername je t'aime ❤️

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, landonorris, yourbestfriend and 796,327 others

pierregasly when she's in love with you AND a phd student

tagged yourusername

4,691 comments

username HELP THAT'S SO CUTE

username oh my god i want this?????? so bad?????

username I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE

landonorris proof that y/n is secretly a hopeless romantic

-> yourusername don't spread misinformation x

-> pierregasly she literally sent me 56 messages saying she loves me

-> yourusername and ur blocked.

username THESE BITCHES SO IN LOVE IM SICK

username pls be mindful of the single people on this app 🙏

username im so ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ about them

danielricciardo that skeleton in the last slide in so me like i can't explain it

-> pierregasly "that's daniel idk why or how" is what she said when she sent that to me

-> yourusername and i spoke nothing but the truth

yourusername who said im in love with u?????

-> pierregasly "i love u so much ur so pretty and im so lucky to have u like idk im just so in love with u" ok.

-> yourusername ALL MY TEXTS ARE UNDER MY COPYRIGHT BUT OK GO AHEAD

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by pierregasly, carmenmmundt, danielricciardo and 68 others

yourusername i've loved you three summers now honey but i want 'em all

tagged pierregasly

27 comments

charles_leclerc you should know that he's been giggling at this post for 20mins

-> yourusername LMFAOOOO

-> pierregasly STOP

landonorris omg she has feelings!!!!!!!! shocking!!!!!!!

-> yourusername this is why i have you saved as "stupid asshole" in my phone

lilymhe it's hard to see my gf with another man 🫤🫤🫤

-> yourusername he's just a side hoe babe dw abt it

lewishamilton roscoe misses u 🫶🏼

-> yourusername i miss my godson :///

danielricciardo PARENTS

-> yourusername SON????

-> pierregasly we have one but thanks

-> carlossainz55 YOU'RE PREGNANT?????

-> carmenmmundt OH MY GOD

-> alex_albon HELLO THIS IS HUGE

-> charles_leclerc WOAH

-> yourusername PIERRE U STUPID FUCK

-> pierregasly I MEANT SON AS IN OUR CAT WHAT THE FUCK

pierregasly i love you ⁉️

-> yourusername EVERYONE THINKS IM PREGNANT THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT

-> yourusername (i love u so much)

[becsabillion4]

false god (we still worship)

pairing: carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary: Carmen has a bad shift, but you’re more than willing to turn his night around and show him exactly how good he is.

word count: 3,362

tags: SMUT, rough sex, unprotected sex, oral sex, creampie, semi-public sex, window sex, lingerie, praise kink, vulnerable Carmy, 18+ only

note: this is explicit 18+ only and yet again NOT an advert for safe sex. with that said, it’s fucking hot ;) and thank you to the wonderful person who submitted the prompt that inspired this, based around Carmy having a tough day and reader taking care of him (even though I’ve failed at tumblr and can’t find the original message). enjoy!!

thesydkid

Yo. Awful shift. Glad you weren’t here to see it.

whochefsouschef

fuckkk what happened?

thesydkid

Newbies think they know better than Tina because they went to CIA. You can imagine how Carmy took that.

whochefsouschef

was it kyle? he’s been like that since he started.

thesydkid

Yeah

Classic

whochefsouschef

syd?

I know that’s not all. kyle doesn’t warrant a text warning

thesydkid

Carm got food sent back.

whochefsouschef

shit.

thanks for the heads up

thesydkid

Good luck, cya tomorrow.

—------------------------------

It’s late, the kind of late where even the drunks winding through the streets have stopped their singing, the kind where it’s already too late to go to bed and get an ounce of good sleep. It’s the kind of late where you would have known it was a bad night even if Sydney hadn’t texted you first, because you know how hard Carmy cleans when he’s upset, and exactly how long that takes.

You sit up in bed abruptly, pushing your hair out of your face and considering your options. You have maybe ten minutes if Sydney texted you as soon as Carmy left, ten minutes to decide how you want to handle this kind of bad day. You feel a surge of frustration that you weren’t on shift tonight. As the Front of House Manager, you could have soothed the moronic, greedy, power-tripping customer who wanted to pull one over on the best chef in Chicago by sending back his perfect food-

Actually, maybe it was for the best you weren’t on shift tonight, or you might no longer have a job.

You smile when you think about how Richie will have handled it though. His courteous, collected energy even as he probably said something like, “Oh, you’d like to send this back? Wow, I’ve never heard a, uh - what do you call ‘em - oh, complaint before. Are you sure you know what this dish is?”

The smile fades when you think about Carmy’s reaction. You push yourself out of bed, decided by the image of his frustration, the anger he uses to hide his sadness. There’s been a few particularly bad shifts since you and Carmy moved in together - and Richie labelled himself as “matchmaker to the stars” for hiring you - and you know that if left to his own devices, Carmy will happily stay up all night stewing.

But you’re here now, and you’re determined not to let him. So you set your plan in motion.

By the time you hear his keys clink in the lock, you’re settled by the sofa, bare skin slightly chilled by the evening air coming in from the cracked window. You glance up as Carmy walks in, catch his eye, and he stops dead, hand still on the lock.

Bluer-than-blue eyes flicker across the scene you’re presenting for him - your best lingerie, your patient kneel, steady eyes - and he straightens from his tired stoop.

“Hey,” he murmurs, eyes still tracing how the lace drapes across your skin in the low light.

“Hi,” you smile. “Join me?”

Without looking away from you, Carmy shuts the door, drops his stuff in a careless pile. “Syd texted?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And I wanted to surprise you.”

Carmy’s eyes drift away from you for a second, glancing around the room, like he does when he’s thinking something through. You can almost hear his brain clicking through the gears. Turning the kitchen off, turning something else on.

“It was bad, sweetheart,” he says. “Fuckin’ shitty.”

“It’s over.” You raise a hand to him, tilt your head towards the sofa. “Get over here and let me do filthy things to you to make up for it.”

He laughs at that, toes off his shoes and takes the few steps to the sofa. He doesn’t sink into the cushions like you expected though, but kneels in front of you. You reach out, run a hand over the side of his face, feel the days-old stubble rasping under your touch. Bringing your other hand up, you cup his face, thumbs tracing over the bags under his eyes like you can smooth them out with that simple touch. You can feel his exhaustion in the way he leans forward into the feeling, and it breaks something in you.

When you kiss him, you intend for it to be careful and slow. Bring him out of his shell, remind him that things outside The Bear exist. But the moment your mouths press together, the moment you nip the edge of his bottom lip, the drained and defeated Carmy is gone.

He surges forward, almost sending you tipping over backwards, arms wrapping around your waist. One hand slides to your lower back, stretching to cover as much of your skin as he can possibly grasp. Pulling you forward, Carmy bows his head to suck a bruise into your throat and you know for damn sure it’ll be visible tomorrow. A glaring mark, a “fuck you” to the rest of the world painted on your skin.

Your hands are far from idle either, and as one pulls at his T-shirt, rucking it up to explore the muscles beneath, you run a finger from the other over the arch of his ear. Carmy shudders in a broad, full-body motion and his hips stutter, jerk forward into you. You both moan at the contact and you want to chase it, feel him pressed between your thighs, but clearly Carmy has other ideas.

He reaches under your arms and pulls you up to stand with him, letting his hands continue their journey down your sides to reach your waist. All you have time to do is gasp as he hoists you off your feet, and he’s already walking towards your floor-length window as you desperately try to wrap your legs around his waist. He doesn’t give you much chance to breathe, the hand not holding you up pushing deep into your hair and curling strands around his fingers so he can pull your head back, press more kisses to the hollow of your throat.

For a dizzying moment, you can see the lights of Chicago upside down, but you manage to pull your head up just before your back hits the cold glass. You hiss at the chill against your bared skin and Carmy runs a hot palm around to your back in apology even as his tongue continues its insistent sweeps against your own.

You barely register the soft clink of his belt, the push and rustle of fabric between you until his cock is pressed close, the only thing keeping it from filling you your own stupid lacy underwear.

With a frustrated groan, Carmy gently lowers you until your feet sink into the carpet, but he still gives you no room to move, pressing you into the misted-up glass as if he can’t tear his body from yours.

“Carmy,” you pant, unsure what you’re asking, but you know he understands when he grabs your upper arm, spins you around to face the view. The glass is warmer now, but still cold enough that the press of your barely-concealed nipples to its surface makes you moan as you hear Carmy kneel, feel him sliding your panties down your legs.

He doesn’t even let them reach your ankles before he’s up again, kissing his way along your spine as he goes, and finally, finally, the head of his cock nestles in where it needs to be.

Its hot and heavy presence has you pushing your hips back, wanting to feel the glorious slide of him, lose yourself in the moment he splits you, and all you can see, eyes half-slitted in pleasure, are the glittering lights of the city below. You live pretty high up and the lights are low enough that none of the busy pedestrians below should see, but all it would really take is a glance up and an observant eye. To see your breasts pressed against the glass, Carmy’s possessive hands gripping your hips as he finally drives into you. Even from this distance, you imagine the pleasure on your own face and your walls flutter around Carmy until he growls, pulls your hands from where they were flat against the window into a bind behind you.

There is nothing kind and gentle about this moment, no give in Carmy’s body as he fucks into you, and you revel in it. Let him take his pain and translate it into pleasure through your body. Let him take and take and take until he has nothing left to give, and let the world see him doing it. Let them see what’s his.

These thoughts alone have you teetering, desperate for a few more strokes, but the surprise of Carmy reaching around to draw lazy circles over your clit as he snarls, “Fucking look at you, look how good you take me,” has you seizing up instantly. You can faintly hear your own surprised cry through the buzzing in your ears, and Carmy’s gasps as he feels you pulsate around him, but you only fully come back to yourself when you press your forehead against the blessedly cool glass.

The strength of your orgasm is enough that your legs are visibly shaking now, and without a word, Carmy bends to scoop up your lower half and pulls you in, cradling you across his front. You close your eyes for a moment, trying to calm your breathing as you push your face into his chest, but before you can even begin to get your head straight, you feel soft sheets on your back as he lowers you to the bed.

He sinks down beside you, and all his desperation from a moment ago is gone as his body finally relaxes. He’s still hard and straining towards you, but the light has dimmed in his eyes, so when you reach for him, it’s to run a hand across his cheek, to bring his eyes to yours. When you move towards him, it’s to curl your legs with his, to press your forehead against his and settle his breathing with your own.

People think Carmy is so used to taking shit that it doesn’t hurt him anymore, but you know. You know how each word drives so deep that he doesn’t know how to take good anymore, how he invites the anger and the aggression of a kitchen into his soul because the alternative is realising that all the shit he’s been through is too awful, too devastating to reconcile. To keep feeling it, so he has no time to wonder what his life would be without it.

You see the weakness and the fear and the vulnerability, and you know how he absorbs the feeling and translates it into his work, how he uses it to fuel him, how he turns the criticism and the insults and the hatred into being better, being perfect, doing a good job.

“You are so wonderful, Carmy,” you murmur, and when he tries to look away, you hold his head still. “Tell me what happened.”

“Nothing. Shit, not really anything.” You’re silent, and he sighs as he caves under the pressure of your gaze. “Back when I was in New York, you remember that chef I told you about?”

You nod, because you know you can’t say anything remotely okay about that particular chef.

“He had this thing, about pasta. Thought he was some kind of expert because he spent, like, three months with Massimo Bottura. We had to boil water from cold every time, for every single batch of pasta we served, and there was this exact amount of salt we had to add. It wasn’t like a teaspoon, it was seven point three grams for every hundred of pasta. And he could fucking tell if you were off, he barely had to taste it. One time I saw him smell somebody’s pasta and tell them they were off by point two.” Carmy’s voice is shaking, and you move your thumb along his cheekbone slowly, calmly, giving him something to root himself to. Remind him he’s not there.

“And I was thinking about it while I was cooking the bucatini, and it’s like he was in the room again, saying the same shit he always did. Watching over my shoulder as I added the salt, and it made me so mad,” Carmy mutters, breaths coming in pants now. “And I didn’t even think, I just added like way too much salt. Enough to fuckin’ ruin it, ‘cos I just wanted to see him choke on it. And then I sent it out.”

You don’t take your eyes from his face as you curl one hand down to straighten the fingers of his, to stop the nails he’s digging deep into his palm from cutting into his skin.

“And of course it got sent back, and Richie apologised and comped their bill, and they didn’t care. But, like, I just sabotaged my own restaurant. My own reputation, becuase I can’t stop fuckin’ thinking about salting pasta,” Carmy finishes in a rush, and he finally meets your eyes.

“Carmy, you’re working in a kitchen every day. It’s no surprise you remember other kitchens you’ve been in, and the kind of behaviour you’ve had to endure. But it’s not that kitchen anymore. This is your kitchen we’re talking about, your space. When you look over your shoulder, he’s not there anymore. Syd is, and she’s got your back. We’re not some pristine, sterile team with no heart. Richie’s there.” You feel a surge of emotion so strong for the brilliant, vulnerable man in front of you that you push your face into his shoulder, hard enough that he has to steady himself from falling back onto the bed. His other hand comes up to card loosely through your hair, and you suppress a soft noise of comfort to finish with, “I’m there.”

“I know, baby,” he responds, pulling you closer until you’re practically curled into his lap. “And I think it’ll get easier, it’s already easier. I just don’t think I’ll ever entirely stop sabotaging myself. I’m not like the food I make, I’m not composed and-and, perfect. I’m not, uh, not always good at stuff.”

“Okay, but you’re good plenty of the time,” you whisper, looking up at him. You smile as he glances down, catches your eye. “I could go on for days about the stuff you’re good at.”

“Oh yeah?” Carmy murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, down and round the edge of your face to the shell of your ear. You shiver instinctively, press into the feeling.

“You’re good at that. Good at getting me out of control,” and your voice is already shaking.

“You’re not out of control, babe. I’ve got you. You’re mine,” Carmy is muttering inbetween kisses as he rolls you onto your back, pins your arms to your sides with his legs and begins to fully slide off your lingerie, slowly, carefully. His hands are, as always, steady. You remember all the times you’ve watched him roll a cigarette, piece together edible art as flames lick at his chef’s whites, and you can’t remember a time you’ve seen them shake.

From the eye of the storm he’s creating in you, you watch as he slides down the bed, skimming his lips across your trembling thighs until he sits back, and moves his hands to your knees.

You can almost feel the pleasure it gives him as, at the lightest touch from him, you part your legs, let him see what he does to you. What he has done. When he growls, you realise he can see remnants of your earlier escapade against the window at your entrance, his come marking you.

When Carmy dips his finger inside you, your hips jerk towards him, but he holds them down with one hand. His finger delves deep for a moment, and then leaves you suddenly, but before you can protest, he brings his hand to your face, offers you the digit. You’re entranced by the silent command in his eyes, and with no hesitation, you open your mouth and let Carmy’s come-covered finger slide inside, press deep towards the back of your throat. When you swallow, the bitterness makes you moan, envision being on your knees for Carmy, his fingers twined so deep into your hair it hurts, feeling his white-hot heat at the back of your throat.

It breaks whatever tension was stretched taut between you, and Carmy wraps his arms around your legs, pulls your body towards him and lowers his face between your thighs. For a moment, he teases you, nibbling at the juncture where your leg curves into your hip, skimming his teeth across the bone, but you know he’s secretly just as impatient as you are, and when he takes his first tender lick across your clit, he moans even louder than you do.

Giving head is an art for Carmy, and feels like a privilege to you. You’ve seen him enjoy food in the kitchen, give somebody that blown-away glance that they’ve worked their whole lives to see, but he never takes more than one bite.

But this, with you, as you watch him devour you whole...It’s the only meal you’ve ever watched him finish.

Tongue swirling delicately across your center, breaking for hungry kisses to your thighs as his hands grasp at any inch of you he can reach, you can’t help the words that spill from you, “yes, yes, Carmy, you’re so good, you make me feel so good, my good boy, please-“, but you can’t continue as he slides two fingers deep inside your aching pussy, so deep you don’t ever want him to move.

At this point in the erotic novels you read during your lunch break (which, if Fak were to find them, would spell the end of your career), the heroine says something about how it feels like hours pass with her lover between her legs. But this is real life, and all Carmy has to do is mutter, “Finish for me baby, finish for me,” for you to come embarrassingly quickly.

You’re practically incoherent on the comedown, and all you can summon the strength to do is pull him into you, press kisses to his forehead and mumble over and over how fucking amazing he makes you feel.

“If you lose everything else, Carmy, if you ever think there isn’t a thing in this world you’re any good at, just know that you are a god at giving head,” you pant eventually, and when he pushes his face into your neck, you can feel his smile there.

For a moment more, you just enjoy the press of his body against yours, revel in the sweat and slick between you. It dawns on you slowly just how slick it feels, and you gasp as you realise-

“Carmy, did you-?”

Carmy laughs into your skin, tracing one hand across your chest idly until you shiver. “Yeah. You, uh, you were moaning and telling me how good I was and…it was hot.”

You laugh with him breathlessly, still kind of in awe at how well you fit after all this time, how at home you feel with him. “Well, I hope that made your bad day a little better.”

Carmy is silent for a second before he murmurs, “You have no idea what you do for me,” and you can see the shine of his eyes in the glitter of the city lights filtering through your window. “There can never be a bad day if I end it right here, in this bed, in your arms.”

You would reply, but he’s kissing you into silence before you can, and you wonder for a moment if any words will ever need to be said between you and Carmy again, or whether you can communicate all the fear, all the anger, all the love, just with kisses and touch and his lips against yours. But eventually, as you slip into sleep with his body twined around yours, you decide that tongues were made for more than just talking.

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone (pt 3)

Synopsis: After Tommy fixes you up, you can't help but let old feelings get in the way. Then, the unexpected happens.

word count 2.8k

information/warnings: cursing, talk of death, not too much, the LIGHTEST hint of smut activity. this chapter is very strange to me, i wrote 3 different versions of it, and this is the one that i felt would carry the story further. not proofread!!

taglist: @budugu, @ajmiila02, @filmtv2022, @cyphah, @ce1iat, @thenattitude

thank you all so so much for reading, i hope you enjoy this chapter!! please leave a comment if you had questions, critiques, anything!

As you sat in the back office of the Garrison, waiting for Thomas, you heard the wails of a man coming from the bar. You could hear every single time a punch connected here, a kick landed there, and the screams that punctuated each. If you strained your ears hard enough, you could hear small grunts and pants of air coming from another man, who you assumed to be Tommy. The beating continued for another few moments, and all you could do was listen. The cries and moans of pain eventually stopped, followed by a distinct voice. 

“Get ‘em out of my fuckin’ pub. I’ve got to go see about my girl.” 

It was Tommy, and he called you ‘his girl’ in front of everyone. 

Tommy entered the office, wiping his hands with a bar rag. You noticed the slight red tinge on the cloth, but decided to let him handle it, he was Tommy Shelby after all, surely he’d had worse than a couple of bruised knuckles. You watched him, as he cleaned his hands and then looked at you. Without speaking, he moved to his desk and opened one of the lower drawers. He pulled out a small white box, marked on the top by a small red cross. 

“C’mere, Love. Let me see that cut.” He said, motioning for you to sit on his desk while he sat in his chair. 

You walked towards him, wringing your hands together out of nervousness. Not only were you nervous because you were about to have his undivided attention, but him calling you ‘his girl’ still rang loud in your mind. You approached his desk, standing in front of where he was seated in his chair. He stood, hooking his hands under your arms, and lifted you so that your ass was directly on top of his desk; you were fairly certain you were sitting on some important legal documents. He softly grabbed your chin, and tilted your head to the side, allowing for him to get a clear view of your face. He gave a little ‘hmph’ and opened the first aid box. He pulled out a spray, an ointment, and a bandage. You realized how lucky you were to not need stitches when you saw the plain needle and thread also in the box. 

“This is going to sting Love, so just sit still for me, okay?” He spoke, turning your head so that you had to look him in the eye. 

“Okay, Tommy.” You nodded. 

He began with the spray, which stung like hell, but you were tough and you wanted to be good for him so you sat still as frozen concrete. The small smile that appeared on his face at your little grimace didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Good girl. The next thing shouldn’t sting, but still, don’t move.” He said, the deep baritone of his voice making your ears heat up. 

While Tommy was applying the ointment and bandage to your forehead, the two of you began talking. He told you a little bit about the war, as you were young and left almost as soon as he got back. He still felt guilty speaking about it to you now, in his mind you were innocent, despite how you just beat a grown man's ass into the dirt a few moments prior. He thought that you should never have to know about war, about mass casualty. He told you about the tunnels he helped dig and operate, and every once in a while when he would get choked up, you would rub your hand along his arm that was still doctoring your face. One particular moment made you realize just what he had been through. 

“We were down there, it was dark and it stunk. My God, Y/N, it stunk. People died down there and we had no way to get them out, no way to even try and get them help. Towards the end, one of my comrades, one of the few I was actually friendly with, he got hit. We never even saw it coming. He got left down there, and sometimes, I still see him…” Tommy trailed off. 

You watched him with sympathy as a single tear rolled out of his eye. Tommy had seen you cry plenty, but this was the first time you had ever even seen his eyes water. 

“Shh, it’s okay, Tom. Why don’t I tell you more about my time up North? Did you know thats where I went? Up North?” You said softly, trying to get him to come out of his head and back into the present with you. 

“I knew you went North, Y/N. I called around about you until I found someone who knew where you were. I just wanted to know you were safe.” He said. 

Tommy had looked for you? Not only looked, but he knew where you were this entire time? So much for ever truly getting away from the Shelby’s, you laughed at yourself. 

“Well then how come I never heard from you? If you knew where I was, why didn’t you ever stop in? Or were you watching me so that you’d be able to stop me from ever coming back?” You scoffed, now leaning back on your hands since he was done with your cut. 

“Of course I wanted you to come home, Y/N. I didn’t reach out because I thought you ran away from me. I didn’t want to scare you off the continent, so I settled for just knowing you were safe.” He replied, packing up his first aid box. 

You studied his expression, and savored his words in your mind. You had been holding feelings for Tommy since you were 16. You were both grown now, and although you couldn’t be certain, the things he was saying sounded an awful lot like something you’d say to someone you cared for. You decided to bite the bullet, and expose your younger self. 

“Look Thomas, we’re both grown, professional, adults right?” You said, cocking your head to the side. 

“...Right?” He answered, giving you a puzzled look. 

“Well then, I’m just going to out myself, and if you don’t like what I have to say then we’ll pretend I didn’t say it,” you paused, just trying to see if he would interrupt, he didn’t. “I have looked at you in so many ways Tommy. I’ve seen you be a brother, a friend, an enemy, but all you ever were to me, since I was sixteen years old, was Tommy. My Tommy. I have pined after you and wanted you since I was sixteen, and you never gave me the time of day. I don’t know what you mean by all of what you’ve said, especially earlier when you were poking fun at me over dinner, but I can see that you care for me Tommy. I’m not sure how thick you think these walls are, but I heard you call me ‘your girl’ earlier. You have opened up to me without reserve like I have never seen you do before Thomas. Never. I’m saying all this to say a few things. One, I didn’t say goodbye to you because I couldn’t face you. I knew that if I had to look at you, and have one last conversation, that I would hold onto that for the rest of my life, and those words would be the only ones of yours that I could ever hear in my head. Two, I want you to understand, and make no mistake, that I like you Thomas. Not just in a ‘well he’s fine, I like him way’, but in a way that makes my ears hot, that makes me want to giggle like a child and swing my arms around. I like you in a way that is bordering on love, Tommy. And three, I need to know if you feel the same way. I need to know. Even if you don’t, even if you have never looked at me like that and you never will, and all I will ever be to you is an annoying family friend, I need to know.”

You took a deep breath, unsure of what was going to come next. You felt a single tear roll down your cheek, but not from sadness, from relief. You had been holding onto these feelings for years, you never shared them with anyone, their weight was your own. You watched his face as he processed all of this. Practically watched the wheels turn in his brain. You had watched him so much, that you had his beautiful face committed to memory, forevermore trapped in your brain. This version of Tommy, the version where he hadn’t yet opened his mouth to tell you that he doesn’t like you, that he doesn’t see you like that, was perfect. He was beautiful, all soft pink lips and tortured blue eyes. You even thought the dark colors under his eyes from being sleep deprived were pretty. You took one last photo of him in your mind, before he opened his mouth. He stood from his chair, putting him above your eye level. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it shut again. He did this a few times, each time the look in his eye changing with the opening and closing of his mouth. Finally, he spoke. 

“Y/N, I am rarely left speechless, but I think you’ve caught me here, Love.” He said softly, bringing his hand up to cradle your jaw. 

He leaned his head in towards you, slower than you ever thought it possible for a human to move. Once you realized what was happening, a million thoughts ran through your head. Were you really about to kiss Thomas Shelby? Was he really about to kiss you? Here? In his office? You never imagined this would be his response to your love-fueled ramblings, but this was the best outcome you ever could’ve hoped for. You had fallen for this man many years ago, but those feelings weren’t like regular school-yard crushes. They never went away, never dwindled, never stopped or changed in any negative value. You had filled your own head with imagined words he’d said to you, convincing yourself that if he ever noticed you, just once if he could see you for the woman you truly are, that he would love you, or like you at least. But now, after you had confessed and outed and embarrassed yourself in his office, now is when he chooses to notice you? Here? While your face is bandaged up from a bar brawl that you got into? You weren’t the typical woman that Tommy Shelby went for, not now. He would go for women who were outwardly dainty, yet fierce inside. Women who carried small pocket knives in their dress pockets, and would brandish them as a ‘party trick’. Tommy Shelby did not go for women who held their own, physically. He did not go for women who stole knives off of fighting opponents, who held their composure getting fixed up in a dark back office, women who went away for five years and turned up without so much as a ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’. 

Your inner monologue quickly settled, as you realized that you had created all of those thoughts within a few milliseconds, as here stood Thomas before you, still leaning in to press his lips to yours. You waited, breath hitched, eyes slowly closing, lips slowly parting, your hand coming to rest on his waist, just waiting for the fiery moment when his lips touched yours. 

“Aye!” A crash came through the doorway. 

Tommy jerked back, taking his hand and all your thoughts with him. You stared at him with an open mouth, chest moving wildly up and down, and then turned to the man who ruined your fucking moment. Arthur Shelby. 

“What in the hell do ya’ two think your doin’? ‘Specially you, Y/N. Why the fuck are ya startin’ fights in my pub?” Arthur asked, his hands resting on his hips. 

“I didn’t start shit, Arthur. Maybe make sure you don’t let fuckin’ creeps in the door and I wouldn’t have to teach these men a thing or two!” You shouted, mad at Arthur for many reasons. 

One, how dare he come in here and start talking at you, not even asking if you’re okay? Two, He just ruined the best fucking moment you’d had in five long, miserable, dry years. 

“Oi, Arthur, you could at least ask her if she's okay,” Tommy remarked, turning his attention towards you again. 

You stared at the two brothers, feeling the slightest bit unhinged. You had yelled at Arthur when he was acting like a reasonable buisness man, of course he’d want to know why there had been a knife fight in his pub. However, would it have fuckin’ killed him to wait five more seconds before he came barging in? 

“Arthur, I’ll go over all the details tomorrow,” Tommy spoke again, “For now, lets get Y/N back to Watery Lane. I’m sure news has spread and Ada and Pol will skin me if I don’t let them see her in one piece before I take her home.” 

The three of you headed outside, loading up into the Shelby car. You sat in the back, with Tommy driving and Arthur in the passenger seat. There was no conversation made on the way back to the Shelby home, only silence. You watched as buildings passed out of the window, wondering what was going to come of you and Tommy now? There had been such a buildup, and obviously he felt some kind of way about you, right? 

Once the three of you made it to Watery Lane, it was absolutely pouring outside. A thunderstorm had come from seemingly nowhere, lighting the sky up in streaks of white-purple light every few seconds. The rain fell heavily against the roof and windows of the car, and Tommy offered you his jacket as a cover for your head. You accepted his offering, and the lot of you scurried as fast as you could into the foyer of the home. 

“Y/N, I don’t think I’ll be able to take you home tonight, Love. Are you comfortable staying here?” Tommy asked, now that Arthur had wandered off deeper into the house. 

“Of course, Tommy. It won’t be the first time I’ve slept here. But is there room for me?” You questioned, realizing that either everyone was home (for once), meaning all rooms were occupied. 

“Don’t worry about that, we’ll find you a good place to sleep.” He said, a sly smile coming across his face. 

After explaining the whole situation to Polly and Ada, you were beyond tired. It was well past midnight at this point, and you could barely hold your eyes open. Tommy seemed to take notice, and bid the two other women goodnight for the both of you. He took your hand and lead you up the stairs to his room. 

“You can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in, okay, Love? I’m going to go to the bathroom to change, just open the door when it’s safe for me to come back in.” He said, handing you a folded up shirt and pair of boxers. 

You quickly stripped off the wet clothes, hanging them to dry in his closet. You ran your fingers through your damp hair, trying your best to smooth it out from the rough night you’d had. You cracked open the door of Tommy’s room, and saw him standing in the hallway, gazing at the door. Once he snapped out of his trance, he came into his room and shut his door behind him. 

“You look good in my clothes, Y/N.” He whispered, barely loud enough to be heard. 

You felt your cheeks blush at his comment. You saw him walk behind you, and then heard the creaking of bed springs. 

“Where am I going to sleep, Thomas?” You asked, not understanding why he was getting into bed when the situation hadn’t been resolved. 

“Right ‘ere, Love,” he patted the other side of his bed, “I don’t bite, I promise.” He smiled. 

You gave him a hesitant look before climbing into his bed, suddenly feeling relaxed by his smell. His presence was all around you. You could smell him on the sheets, you could hear his breathing behind you as you lay on your side, and then, you could feel his arm around your waist as he pulled your back flush to his warm, bare chest. 

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well, Love.” Tommy whispered, still holding his grip on you. 

“Goodnight, Tommy.” 

[fluffymaxsworld]

hii i just came across your blog and i love your theme!! it’s so cute :))))

can i request könig defending the reader from teasing? maybe she’s a new recruit for kortac and she’s very soft spoken and some other recruits are making fun of her b/c she’s so quiet!! könig overhears this and comes to readers defense!!

thank u bunches!!!

-🐻‍❄️

STOP THIS IS LITERALLY SO SO CUTE 😭😭

könig x gn!reader

(i changed it a bit so you’re soft spoken and a lil shy)

you’re someone new, like never ever been in the military and your first mission is no other than a undercover one!! you’re so so scared bc you know how hard for you is social interactions, especially talking with strangers, ESPECIALLY on an undercover mission that’s supposed to be your first. and its so uncomfortable bc everyone is so used to this type of missions but you :( so you decide to talk to a superior and share your problem. he’s so kind and doesn’t mind that you’re shy and he tells you it’s okay for you to stay at the base.

four are the people that aren’t picked for the mission, you, two men you barely talked to and this big, scary masked guy (lol guess who is!!).

you kinda feel that feeling of shame for not being in the mission, after all everyone knew that that was supposed to be your first one so you just sit there, staring at your lap and sometimes biting on your nails. that big scary guy (who you finally remembered was könig) just sat in front of you with legs spread and body relaxed.

after awhile the two other men approached you. at first they barely acknowledged your presence but then it seemed like they realized who you were and why you were there.

“you skipped the first mission?” one of them asked.

“and the undercover one, over all! it’s basically free buffet and a couple of trackers!” the other continued.

“i don’t like socializing that much…” you muttered, still glaring holes in your lap. your voice was soft and sweet, definitely not the voice of a military woman. they stared at you for a second and then one of them started laughing.

“that’s the fuckin’ weirdest excuse i’ve ever heard!” he said, looking at his friend.

“woman, you can just say you’re lazy, no need to make up a lie like that”

“it’s not a lie…” you replied, voice shaking. you could feel sweat forming on your forehead and lips trembling. you wanted to bury a hole and hide in it.

“it’s not a lie” someone repeated (woooh🫣). you stared up and saw the big, scary man behind the other two. he looked at them and they cheaply excused them self, saying something like “relax man, we were joking” or “you’re no fun…”.

as soon as the two men stepped out the room he turned around to face you.

“are you okay?” he asked, the eyes softening slightly.

“now i am, thank you” you said, catching up the breaths you lost in that hell of a minute.

“you’re the new recruit, aren’t ya?” he asked. you could tell he was from central europe, germany or austria, he had a very clear accent.

“yeah.” you presented yourself, smiling awkwardly at the situation.

“the captain told me ‘bout ya. can’t handle galas or parties?” he said genuinely. it felt like you could trust him, even if you barely knew his name.

“yes. i don’t like talking to strangers…” you answered.

“my cousin has the same problem, ya know? he doesn’t want to host a party, not even for his 18s” he chuckled.

you could help but smiling, his laugh was contagious.

“you must care a lot about him” i said, now enjoying really much his presence.

“yeah. he gets me. you don’t seem scared of me, though. does it mean i made a good first impression?” he asked with a grin on his face that was so oblivious even with the mask on.

you smiled and nodded.

“we’ll get along really well…”

a/n: my god this was so fun to write!! i have a latin exam tomorrow but i wanted to post it earlier, i hope it was okayy :33

i might do a pt.2 tho i wanna make em kiss😈

[storydays]

Welcome to Heaven P2

(3rd POV)

*In Heaven Meeting Room*

"Heavenly people, what more do you need to see?" Adam asked, as the court room watch Angel and Cherri take shots. "The porn star chose a night of debauchery. That's not a soul worthy of being in Heaven!" He exclaimed.

"Um, objection! Are you really telling me you've never had a drink with friends at the end of a hard day?" Charlie asked. 

"Uh, we don't have hard days. It's fuckin' Heaven, bitch. You seriously going to sit there and pretend like this behavior is okay? What do you think?" The yellow angel asked Vaggie as Charlie and (Y/N) growled lowly.

"I--I--I have to go to the bathroom." Vaggie stuttered before rushing off. "What, Vaggie, can't you hold it?" Charlie hissed after her.

"Angel will make good decisions! We have to keep watching! Please." (Y/N) pleaded. Sera sighed heavily before turning to Emily. "Yeah, I don't know." "Yeah, let's give him a chance." The younger Seraphim replied. 

"Very well; the court will allow it." "Fuck, yes!" Charlie cheered, fist pumping herself. (Y/N) noticed the looks she was receiving and elbowed Charlie who quickly corrected herself. "I mean, heh, thank you."

*In Consent Club*

Angel tossed his head back as  Cherri approached with more in her hands. "Round 12, mother fuckers! Heels are comin' off!" "Haha! Yeah, keep 'em comin'!" laughed the spider, reaching for another. "Come on, right here, right to Daddy." He giggled. "Oh, it is wonderful to have friends!" Sir Pentious cackled, tossing his head back, enjoying the sting of the alcohol. 

"Everything's spinny, hehe." Niffty giggled, reaching for a little more. "Ha ha! I think you're done, tiny." Angel took the shot from her, giving it to Husk who downed two shots at the same time. "No! Gimmie gimmie gimmie!" Niffty whined, reaching for the glass. 

"Oh, come on, bitch, she can handle a little more!" Cherri scowled. "She's like ten pounds soaking wet, and--" Angel defended before noticing the cyclops maid was gone. 

"Oh, shit. Where'd she go?"

Niffty ignored the angry yells as she cleaned up group of men's table. "Dirty, dirty, make it clean." Niffty said manically. 

"Dammit, Niffty. Sorry fellas, here, next one's on me." Angel threw a wad of cash at the men, rolling his eyes at how they fought over it.

"Niffty? Shit!" Angel cursed, seeing the redhead raiding the cleaning closet. "Chlorine....Bleach...." 

Angel went to stop her, when Cherri stopped him in his path, with her hands on her hip. "Angie, the fuck are you doing? You're supposed to be relaxing, not playing nanny." 

"Look, she ain't used to this scene. I-I just don't want her to end up in the gutter like I used to." Angel protested. 

"Pfft, whatever, nerd. Just catch up when you're done." The pink haired Cyclops walked away and Angel snatched Niffty up. "Stop! You can't take that! God Niff, why are you bein' such a mess?!" He snapped. 

"I-I'm the mess?" Niffty started bawling loudly. "Oh, oh shit! Hey, hey, hey...calm down, ya ain't a mess. It's fine, ssshhhh, hey, you wanna play with the kitty?" Angel panicked, before using his second pair of hands to rub soothing circles on Niffty's back and in her hair. 

"Yeah." whined Niffty. 

"The fuck is this?" Husk demanded as Niffty climbed all over him, and started pulling at his ears and eyebrows. "She's wasted." Angel deadpanned before smiling. "Just go with it." 

"Re-really?! Ugh, get the--" He sighed, accepting his fate as Niffty started pulling on his wings. 

"Ahh, hey, wow!" Pentious, who was clearly drunk, slid over to where Cherri was sitting boredly. "Hey, so, I see the club has a sex room. So I was thinking, maybe you'd want to uhm, do a sex with me?" He asked awkwardly. 

Cherri snorted, suddenly interested. "I'm sorry, why would we have sex?" "Uh, uh, um.. because I'm having sex with everyone here!" He exclaimed loudly, yelping when a group of demons dragged him into a room. "Get in here."

Cherri shook her head, before perking up seeing Angel approach with Husk and Niffty behind him. "You know, we can do this fucking shit every fucking night! You don't have to spend all of your off hours, 'working on yourself,' you little bitch."She grinned, ignoring Angel's raised eyebrow. 

"The hotel isn't a problem in his life, it's--" Husk defended before trailing off. "Valentino." Angel muttered darkly, looking off to the side. 

"Exactly. So why don't you---"

"No. Valentino." Angel's voice wobbled as he pointed at the moth sitting with two other demoness's. "Yeah, I'm here all the time, they know me. You're gorgeous...do you need a job? How many dicks can you suck? Ooh, I could make you a star..." Valentino continued to talk as Angel started shaking in fear. 

"L-Let's get the fuck outta here, ok? Come on.---" He started to walk out when he realized something. Sparing a glance at Val over his shoulder, he quickly took notice of who was missing. "Where's Niffty?" "...Porn star. Okay, yup, bring me another drink or I'll fucking kill you." Val's voice carried over the party noise as Niffty ran over to him, giggling, "Bad boy. Hehehehe."

Angel, despite his fear, ran after her, muttering under his breath as he pushed through the crowd. "Excuse me. Pardon me. Get out of my way."

He quickly caught Niffty, just as she was approaching Valentino. "Holy shit, Angel Dust? What are you doing here, baby?" cooed the moth. "I'm surprised to see you not riding the prince's dick." he mocked, making a dick gesture. 

"Funny." Angel rolled his eyes. "Who's this chiquita? You bringing me fresh meat?" Val asked, leaning closer to eye Niffty. 

Niffty tried to bite him. 

"Oi!" exclaimed Valentino, leaning back in his seat, allowing the two demoness's to lean back against him.

"I just want a taste." Niffty growled with a grin. "Ehh, weird, but there's a kink for that I'm sure." shrugged the pimp. 

"Fuck off, Val." Hissed Angel, standing up, holding Niffty close. "Excuse me?" Val narrowed his eyes. 

"I said, fuck off. I put up with your bullshit for the longest time, and I will never let you get your claws into my friends." 

"You forget who you're talking to, slut?" "No, I know exactly who I'm talking to: An insecure piece of shit, who makes himself feel better beating up and taking advantage of vulnerable people and who is incapable of feeling anything other than greed, you , twisted, heartless son of a bitch." Val growled lowly, making a smoke chain appear, and he went to raise a hand to hit the spider, when suddenly a (f/c) chain pulled him to his knees, to be face to face with a shadow version of the prince. 

" Did you forget our deal, Valentino?" cooed the Shadow Prince, tail lazily swinging behind him. The pimp gulped nervously.

"Ugh, n-no, never." stuttered the moth, as the shadow version of (Y/N) narrowed his red eyes before pulling the moth close to him, effectively gagging him. Angel, Niffty, and Husk watched with wide eyes.

"Hm. So you weren't about to put your hands on Angel? You're saying I'm lying?" 

"No, Príncipe. Angel and I were just having a---" He choked when the shadow pulled harshly, before turning to the crowd. "Who here had seen Valentino raise his hand to Angel?" He called, raising an eyebrow at the many hands that had went up. 

The moth was shaking from where he was kneeling as he realized his mistake.

" Niffty, dear."  The shadow nodded his head, and Niffty snatched some fluff off of Val's neck. "Ow! What the fuck?!" He exclaimed. "For my collection, hehe." 

"I think, Valentino, I let you off too easy last time. Until I return from my meeting, you are going back to the...playroom. And if you think last time was horrifying.." The shadow laughed darkly, watching as the horror spread across Valentino's face. "Just wait, motherfucker. Just wait." And with the both Valentino and the shadow disappeared, with the shadow prince's laughter echoing through the club.

"Fuck, that was kind of hot." Angel sighed, thinking of his fiance. "Good job, kid." Husk smiled, patting Angel on the back as they finally walked back to Cherri. "Uh, Niffty, what's the fluff for?" Husk asked. "For my collection, hehehe." She chuckled.

"Did you just call these cunts your friends? Thought that was my job." She chuckled, looking proud of Angel. "There's room for everyone, and ya know, you could come crash with us too." Angel smiled. 

"Okay, look Angie, I'm glad this hotel shit is workin' for ya. But you know me, bitch. I'm doin' just fine. In fact, I'm gonna fuck the next guy I see, okay?" Cherri chuckled, starting to walk away before turning back to him with a soft smile, "But, if you need me, you know where to find me, yeah?"

She walked away, just as Pentious approached, panting heavily. "Is Cherri still here?" 

Angel and Husk both pointed at Cherri as she walked hand in hand with a random demon into a sex room. "Dammit!" He exclaimed. 

*Back in the Heaven courtroom*

"See! He did everything on your checklist! He was selfless, he stopped Niffty from stealing, and he stuck it to that moth man!" Charlie exclaimed proudly. 

"Uhh, well, uh...then, then why isn't he here then? Hm?" Ace demanded. "Yeah, why isn't he here?" Emily asked Sera who looked away. 

The court room started muttering uneasily. "Wait, none of you know what gets someone into Heaven?" (Y/N) spoke up, glaring as Sera spoke up. 

"This questioning stops now. We know when a soul arrives, we know when they pass divine judgement. It is our job to ensure these souls are safe." Sera said firmly, as Emily looked at Adam;s list, confusion on her face. 

Charlie stared in horror as Vaggie was revealed to be an exorcist angel, while (Y/N) watched the teal angel known as Ash carefully. He'd heard that singing voice from somewhere, but where...?

"I'm sorry, but this court finds that there is no evidence souls in Hell can be redeemed." Sera spoke firmly.

"Oh, fuck yes! I win. Suck it bitches!" 

Vaggie and Charlie backed up, as (Y/N) stood in front of them, sword in his hand, ready to defend, as the angels approached.

"You better save the date, cunts." Adam smirked as Lute and Ash appeared over him, giving him an even more sinister look. Ash took his mask and hood off to reveal.....

"Archer?" 

(Y/N)'s voice cracked, seeing his ex alive and grinning evilly at him. "Uh, the name is Ash. And we're coming to your hotel, first!" 

With a snap of his fingers, Adam opened a portal that started to suck the three into it. "What? No,no, you can't--" "Oh, you mother--" Vaggie and Charlie both protested as they were sucked in. (Y/N) remained silent as he held eye contact with Arc--Ash who grinned darkly and flicked him off, before the portal closed in the prince's face. "Charlie! Don't give up on this! I'll figure something out, I promise!" Emily called.

"That was uncalled for, Adam." Sera scolded. 

"Yeah, but did you see the looks on their fucking faces? It was... Ahem. Sorry." He cleared his throat before flying over to Lute and Ash, who had a quizzical look on his face. "Hey, what gives, asshat?" He asked the teal angel. 

"The prince. He called me Archer...and I never notice 'til now, but he looks awfully familiar." Ash hummed, missing the looks the other two exorcists shared. 

"Ah, don't worry your pretty little head about it, babe. Probably some demon shit." Adam shrugged, flying off, Lute following. "Yeah, you're probably right." shrugged the fox angel before flying off as well. 

"Extermination, of human souls. Demon or not, there is no reason to be doing this." Emily snapped. 

"They were uprising, Emily." Sera said, eyes glowing slightly in tune with her feelings, "It is my position as the Head Seraphim to protect our people at all costs, and it's your position to keep them happy and joyful. "

"How can I bring joy when I now know we are bringing misery to thousands of innocent people?" Whimpered Emily.

"Heaven needs us, Emily. Everyone looks to us and we can't doubt ourselves or worry about the fates of demons when we have our own souls to protect. Please, if you start to question, you could end up like Lucifer: fallen. I couldn't bear to see you suffer that fate. So please, let me worry about this, okay?" She pressed a kiss to Emily's head, "I'm sorry." 

*Back in Hell*

(Y/N), Vaggie and Charlie collapsed on the hotel's floor, startling the rest of the hotel members from where they were lounging on the couches waiting for their return. 

"Sooo, how'd it go?" Angel asked, going over to hug (Y/N) when he noticed the haunted look in his eyes. "Sweetcheeks?" He asked, kneeling in front of his lover, grunting softly when (Y/N) hugged him tightly, hyperventilating and sobbing. Angel's arms wrapped around him and he stood up, holding him close. 

Without sparing a look to anyone, Angel quickly ran to their shared room and slammed the door, leaning against it, as he rocked (Y/N) back and forth, waiting for him to stop crying. 

Eventually, the harsh sobs quited down to an occasional sniffle, but he continued to cling to Angel.

"Bambino, let's take a quick shower, get in our pjs, and then we can cuddle in bed. We don't have to talk--" 

"No." replied the prince, voice heavy with emotion. 

"Okay, what do you need from me?" 

"Fuck me." 

Angel's eyes widen as he looked down at (Y/N) who refused to look at him. "What?" 

"Fuck me. I want you to fuck me, I don't want to remember anyone's love but yours. Please. We can shower and stuff after, but please...help me forget." He pleaded, wrapping his tail around the spider's waist. 

"Bambino, I won't fuck you." 

The prince started to protest when Angel ran a hand through his hair, "But I will make love to you. I love you too much to hurt you."  "I love you too. I love you so much." (Y/N) whimpered before being pulled into loving arms.

[joels6string]

bestie, i'm so thrilled that you've begun digging your talents into Joel Miller. this idea has been plaguing me for the past few days, and i feel like you'll literally kill me with whatever you come up with, should you want to explore it—

What happens when Joel and the reader are separated, and he's absolutely certain that she's dead (and of course this angsty man blames himself) ... only for them to finally be reunited?

(Extra spice, please)

This idea had also been plaguing me so thank you for forcing me to act on it💜 I wanted to add that spice, but it just didn't organically make it in, unless spice is Joel Miller going feral and ruthless to find you. Then it's spicy.

Lost and Found

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel is willing to stop at nothing to find you when you go missing.

Rating: E

Word Count: 2.1k

Content: TLOU-level violence (which is high), angst, Joel Miller tortures a man for info, hurt/comfort, shared shower

“Where are they?!” Joel roared, fists entwining in his brother’s jacket, long strides closing the distance between Tommy and the wall behind him until the two collided with a ruthless slam.

“I don’t know! All right!? That what you wanna hear?” Tommy lamented, his hands going up in surrender as he locked his fear-filled eyes with the hazel burning with rage inches from his own.

The room was silent, too silent. No one dared speak a word, not with Joel in his current state. That was a death wish, something Tommy had known before his heavy boot steps had been heard rounding into the building. Despite knowing exactly how his brother would react to the news he’d been given, it did nothing to prepare him for what he faced now.

“You find ‘em,” the growl was menacing and low, “You go out there and you don’t come back here until you have her or you’re carried back dead. Do you understand me?”

Joel would be going out alone. He knew himself well enough that the dangers to himself by going alone outweighed the risk everyone else faced if they got in his way. He’d warned them it was a bad idea. He’d said it, multiple times in fact, but no one had listened and now you and Maria were missing. Just gone. And he’d done nothing to stop it.

The thought of forbidding you to head out beyond the safe walls of Jackson had passed through his mind when you’d brought it up. Sure, you were tough and you could handle yourself, you knew your way around a shotgun and a bow alike, but something that morning had felt off. When you’d let him know you and Maria were heading out to meet a few traders, a brisk 'no' had danced on the tip of his tongue, followed by an offer to accompany you, but he’d laid his suspicions to rest and let you go. And look where that had gotten him, hopping onto the back of a horse to search for you in the wilderness after your two-hour trip had dragged on to eight, then ten, and now open-ended. 

You had to be dead. And he knew what you were keen to get to those traders for. For him. He’d been scraping the bottom of his coffee jar for two days now, leading you and your kind gestures and undying affection for him into the hands of God knows who. 

“I’m goin’ with you,” a familiar voice called out from behind him, Joel’s teeth gnashing together at the sound, “You can’t carry ‘em both on that horse.”

“Me too,” another announced, one that elicited an entirely different reaction that was swelling in his chest, finding resistance only from the rage that had consumed him.

“Ellie, no,” Joel sighed, his eyes finding the teenager prepping her saddle, “I can’t–”

Lose you, too.

It had been a losing battle, both Tommy and Ellie riding out of the gates of Jackson to hunt you and Maria down along with a few other small teams, Joel’s steaming temper bringing all available hands on deck and ready to help. When the sun had set and not a trace of you had been found, not even Ellie dared speak some reason into him once the door to his house slammed shut. As the sun began to peek above the mountains after a sleepless night he was in the stables, Tommy hot on his heels as they readied for another long day. A long day that once again turned up nothing, Joel’s fist pounding against the solid wood of the barn as he bellowed an agonizing cry before slinking to his knees, breath ragged and strained.

“We’ll find ‘em, Joel,” Tommy soothed from behind him, keeping a safe distance still, “One way or another.”

Dead or alive.Why had he let you go? 

The house felt like you when he returned alone and despondent once again as the last light of the day had disappeared. Your favorite flannel that had once belonged to him still lay draped over the back of the handmade kitchen chair, your coffee mug sat unwashed on the counter still half full, and the flowers he’d picked for you the day before you’d disappeared had begun to wilt in their vase, he couldn’t be here. But there was nowhere else to go.

“Joel?” a meek voice echoed from the door, only one person was granted an open door policy here, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, kiddo,” he sighed, putting the mask he’d begun to let fall back into place, “You all right?”

“Are you?”

“I’m good."

But he wasn’t. And everyone knew it.

The sight of smoke overnight had given Joel, Tommy, and the rest of the search party a new destination, a typically abandoned sector showing signs of life that hadn’t been there previously. It was better than nothing. The horses got them there as the sun hit its highest point, the stunned faces not expecting visitors quickly made lifeless at the end of Joel’s revolver, Tommy’s cries to wait falling on deaf ears.

“We don’t know who these people are!” Tommy scolded, trying to reason with his brother in any way he could.

“I don’t need to,” Joel sneered, his predatory gaze falling on the one man he’d left with a bullet hole only in the knee as he hopped down from the saddle and stalked over, the final bullet of his revolver clicking into the barrel, “You have two women. Where are they?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” his victim replied, voice high and strained, his gaze growing wider as a sinister grin stretched across the face of the man towering above him.

“Let’s try again.”

In one quick, fluid movement, Joel had lowered to one knee, the sharp silver of his favorite switchblade sinking effortlessly into the meat of the thigh to his left, his gun unwavering in its aim between the eyes. The excruciating scream that erupted into the trees was like a symphony, repressed instincts clawing up from the graves he’d buried them beneath when undertaking this new version of life. Maybe he’d missed this…

“Where are they?” he asked again, twisting his hand just enough to elicit another shriek.

“I don’t know,” was the panting response again, “I really don’t. I saw… I saw a group with two women yesterday, they had ‘em tied up. They were talking about some cabin to shack up in up the mountain. I swear that’s all I know.”

Another twist, another cry, the oozing blood warm on the side of his hand, “I reckon you know I ain’t that stupid. I’m askin’ one more time… Where are they?”

“Joel…” Tommy cautioned, but Joel didn’t hear him, he could feel the tip of his blade scraping at bone.

“You’re gonna kill me either way,” the man panted, sweat dripping down his temple.

“Yeah,” Joel confirmed, icy and detached, “I am. But how you answer determines if I make it quick or I take my sweet time.”

“Search the area!” That plea had been enough to convince Tommy and he dispersed the small crew they’d brought along, staying behind himself to monitor Joel and collect as much intel as he could.

“Who lets two women out on their own like that?” Pain-induced delirium was setting in, maniacal laughter erupting from his chest, “I assume one is yours? Is it Maria? The other one wouldn’t give us her name, matter of fact, that one’s gotta be yours.”

“Where is she?” This level of insolence deserved a new wound, Joel quickly retracting his blade and forcing a new entrance higher than the last.

“Maybe you’ll find her. Maybe you won’t.”

“Joel!” a call from the distance broke him from his trance, “Tommy!”

“Leave him,” Joel instructed towards the heap of a man he’d damaged beyond walking ability or repair as he stood, “He can find his own way.”

It was like getting the first breath of air after being underwater when he reached a shoddy tent to find you being pulled from the shelter and walking on your own two feet alive and well. He didn’t care he’d whimpered loud enough for his fellow patrolmen to hear, he took off in a sprint and scooped you up into his arms, your body going limp in his safe hold.

“Joel,” you whimpered as your head fell to the crook of his neck, your fingers twisting in his shirt as you gripped him with as much life as you had left, “Knew you’d find me.”

“Always.”

His arms were the only thing keeping you upright as he made space at the front of the saddle for you to lean back against him for the long ride home, one tightly wrapped around your waist as the other held onto the leather horn caged you in. The steady sway of the horse’s trot paired with the warmth you’d been denied for days pressed into your back had you dozing within minutes, your eyelids as heavy as the lead that lay scattered in your captors’ bodies. You’d caught a glimpse of the carnage on your way out despite Joel’s best attempts to shield you from the darkness you knew he was capable of.

“I got you, darlin’,” Joel cooed into your hair, “Sleep. You’re all right now.”

When you woke the smell of antiseptic hit you square in the nose, your eyes needing less adjustment after black had settled over the town. Tommy and Maria were nestled into the other section of the room, the chair beside you empty.

“He’s gone home,” Tommy informed, the rustling of your sheets cueing him onto your consciousness, “Didn’t think you’d be up so soon. But you’re clear to go if you feel all right. I can walk ya.”

The walk with Tommy was silent although you knew he had questions, but he had enough couth to know now wasn’t the time. You wondered if you’d get the same treatment at home. You didn’t have long to ponder it, the glow of your house’s lights visible after a short five-minute walk.

Your legs were still too sore to even jog, but the anticipation of burying yourself into Joel had your heart hammering. 

“Take it easy,” Tommy chuckled as he steadied you on the path, “He ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

A breath full of lavender greeted you as you opened your front door, the familiar sight the most wondrous thing you’d seen in quite some time. It was cozy and warm, Joel’s handiwork event over every inch of the space after years of work. You could hear the shower running, the steady stream calling out to you as your feet shuffled exhaustedly across the hardwood, your fingers barely able to grip the doorknob as you turned it. 

Steam damn near shrouded you completely as Joel’s head poked out from behind the curtain, his gray hair matted down around his head and ears, his mouth falling open in shock and relief as you slipped your filthy clothes off slowly, the sliver of his chest visible from behind the barrier enough to continue fueling your movements. Your skin was sullied and caked with dirt, your hair a brambled mess, but he welcomed you into the warm water gently, his hands running over your arms, shoulders, and back as he wiped you clean, your head unable to prevent lolling forward to press against the defined pec it aligned perfectly with.

“Lemme do your hair,” he cooed, the thought of his thick fingers scraping against your scalp already drawing a relieved sigh from your lips.

His slow scratches and scrubs almost had your knees giving out, but you managed to stay upright long enough for him to wash away all the final souvenirs of your captivity, his hands reclaiming your being and soft assurances soothing your battered, wearied soul. He dressed you in just panties and one of his t-shirts before slipping his favorite sleep pants on and carrying you to the bed just as he’d whisked you to safety earlier that day, your pillow soft beneath your head as he curled up behind you, a heavy arm wrapping you up tightly.

“You ain’t leaving these gates without me,” he growled into your soaked strands, “Never again.”

There would be no arguments from you.

“Thought I’d lost ya,” he murmured, you could still hear the anguish in his voice even through the walls he tried to trap it behind, “I can’t...”

“I know,” you exhaled, your fingernails raking through the coarse hair covering his forearm, “You can run the errands from now on.”

The breathy chuckle that hit your shoulder was comfort enough, a press of his lips to the hollow behind your ear the last thing you remembered before dozing off in his unwavering hold.

Joel Miller Masterlist

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Perzys se Rūkla (Fire and Flowers) - Chapter Five

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x original female character (Melessa Tyrell) Warnings: Mentions of infidelity, angst, strong language, mentions of pregnancy. Word count: ~2k

Chapter summary: Daemon deals with the fallout of Melessa's discovery. Series summary here.

Endless thanks and all the love to my absolute ride or die @em-writes-stuff-sometimes for cheerleading, beta'ing and just generally being the bestest fandom boo a gal could have.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

Header by the insanely talented @em-writes-stuff-sometimes

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The thought tempts Daemon to go after Melessa, pull her to him and demand that she forgive him. However, it is Rhaenyra’s coronation and it has been shrouded in enough uncertainty and controversy, without her uncle chasing his weeping wife through the Red Keep. The very last thing the beginning of his niece’s reign needed was more gossip.

He sighs, only realising when he looks over his shoulder that the serving girl he’d pulled from the feast is still in the alcove, pressed against the wall, wide eyed and disheveled. Pathetic. He is unsure whether it is a thought he directs towards himself or her.

“Fuck off,” he hisses, not bothering to watch as she smooths her skirts and scurries away.

Leaning against the cool stone of the corridor, Daemon sighs. He does not know how to put this right, apologies have never been his strong suit. He can put together battle strategies for entire armies, cleave his enemies in twain, and rain dragonfire down upon those who oppose him, but his problem solving does extend as far as opening his heart and admitting to his own wrongdoing.

The very thought of going to Melessa and placing himself at her mercy by pleading for her forgiveness terrifies him more than any battle ever could. He owes it to her, though; she has given up so much in his pursuit of her, even more so since they were wed, and in a single misjudged act of foolishness he has made it all seem worthless.

His footsteps feel heavy as he trudges his way up towards their shared quarters, turning over and over in his mind what he might say to her.

I’m sorry.

It was a mistake.

It won’t happen again.

None of it feels good enough. Daemon swallows thickly, his heart pounding, as he pushes open the door, preparing himself to be greeted by the sight of his wife’s mournful hysterics.

He is taken aback when he finds her seated by the window, staring out of it. She’d appear almost serene were it not for the fact that her eyes are rimmed red from crying. She doesn’t even acknowledge his presence.

Daemon shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other, clasping his hands firmly behind his back. He bows his head, taking a breath, before looking up at Melessa and uttering the first thought that springs to mind.

“Forgive me,” he says softly, looking at her with genuine remorse.

“There is nothing to forgive,” she says flatly, her voice listless. “It was silly of me to assume our marriage was anything more than a political tool for you to ensure Rhaenyra’s place as Queen.”

A pit forms in Daemon’s stomach upon hearing this. He had expected her to scream at him, to be met with heartbroken tears and burning anger, he would have welcomed that. This beaten-down resignation is more than he can handle; surely she does not believe the things she says? He stands there silently, brow furrowed in disbelief.

“You’ve gotten what you needed from our union, and it is childish folly for me to expect you to not want to bed other women,” she continues. “But now you have gotten what you want, I wish to return to Highgarden.”

Bile rises in Daemon’s throat at her admission. He fights the urge to grab her, to shake her and demand that she be angry with him. He doesn’t recognise the broken husk of a woman seated before him. She is lacking in the spirited brightness he has come to adore from his wife. Had his carelessness really snuffed that out?

He opens his mouth to speak, but finds the words won’t come. She beats him to it, dull and monotonous sounding.

“Don’t let me keep you. We can make the necessary arrangements tomorrow. Go back to the celebrations. Give the Queen my apologies for my absence; I am not feeling especially jovial this evening.”

Not knowing what else to do, wordlessly Daemon turns and leaves. His mind races, fear swirling in his gut at how withdrawn Melessa is, unsure of how to coax her back out of the shell she’d retreated into. 

Irritation prickles at him as he strides through Maegor’s Holdfast, back towards the festivities. The very notion of playing at being Hand of the Queen for a feasting hall full of slack jawed halfwits, while his wife slips away from him, seems ridiculous. His jaw clenches as with every step the sounds of merriment get louder.

“There you are,” Rhaenyra calls out to him from across the courtyard.

“Shouldn’t you be entertaining your loyal subjects?” Daemon asks, walking to meet her.

“I needed some fresh air,” she says matter-of-factly. “Finished with that poor girl you dragged away earlier?”

Daemon pinches the bridge of his nose, huffing in agitation. “You saw that?”

“You’d sat at the table like a petulant child for the entire feast. It was the first time I’d seen you move all evening.” She narrows her eyes at him. “Of course I saw.”

Daemon rolls his eyes. “Well, so did my wife.”

“Oh?” Rhaenyra raises her eyebrows at this.

“She wants to go back to Highgarden.”

“And you’re going to let her?”

“What choice do I have?” Daemon asks irritably. “I can’t very well chain her up and force her to stay here.”

“You fought so hard to get her. Is she not worth fighting to keep?”

“Of course she is!” he spits, temper flaring at the absurdity of such a question.

“Then show her that,” Rhaenyra responds softly. “Fight for her.”

“Your coronation feast—” he begins.

“—Is almost over,” she interrupts. “I need my Hand’s mind to not be preoccupied while fulfilling his duties. Fix this, so I may have your full attention tomorrow.”

Daemon nods gratefully, walking away with a renewed determination to win back the affections of Melessa.

She has moved from her seat by the window when Daemon returns. He spots her standing at the foot of the bed, folding dresses into a trunk and he cannot help the white hot fury that boils under his skin at the sight of it. She really means to leave him. He cannot bear the thought.

Storming through the apartment, he snatches a gown from her grasp, the fabric tearing audibly as he does so.

It is the first time all day—since she caught him with the serving girl, that is—that her face has shown any visible emotion. Her eyes widen in shock, quickly morphing to anger as she scowls.

“What are you doing?” she cries in an accusatory manner. 

“I could ask the same of you,” Daemon says darkly. “You aren’t going anywhere. Stop behaving like a child!”

“It is not me who is cavorting in hallways with servants. You cannot keep me here as your prisoner!” she shoots back. 

He can tell from the way her voice wobbles that she is about to cry again and his heart aches at the sound, immediately regretting how he has handled the situation.

“Petal,” he pleads, his voice softening, still holding her now ruined dress in his hands. “You are not my prisoner—you are my wife.”

She shakes her head sadly, eyes closing as tears fall from her waterline and roll heavily down her cheeks. “I was an infatuation for you, one that you have grown tired of. Just let me go. Please.”

“You aren’t; I haven’t; I can’t,” he implores desperately, letting the garment he holds drop to the floor to reach for her.

She backs away, sniffling. “You know,” she begins, voice thick and watery. “It is not the utter humiliation of what you did to me that hurts most. It is that I have spent the past half a year trying to be the perfect wife for you and still I am not enough.”

Daemon hates this. Why will she not allow him to touch her? He cannot comfort her, cannot mend the broken pieces if he can’t hold her. He aches to pull her to him, fingers flexing uselessly at his sides as stares at her filled with shame and regret.

“You are enough,” he whispers. “More than I deserve.”

“You never say it back,” Melessa croaks. “Do you love me?”

Daemon balks at this, opening his mouth before clamping it shut again. He’d never uttered those words to anyone, wasn’t even sure he knew what such an emotion was. All he knows is that over the last six months something has grown within him, something dark and urgent that drives him to be with her, as though an invisible string tied his heart to hers. To be by her side was a need, not a mere passing fancy. If that was what love was, then he did indeed feel that.

But he has no idea of how to articulate that to her, how to make her understand that in his own unique way all of his heart belongs to her. So he says nothing, watching as she hiccups a sob before walking to the opposite bedchamber, the one that has remained unoccupied since they arrived back in King’s Landing, and closes the door behind her.

The anger builds quickly in Daemon, his patience threadbare at his inability to speak his feelings coupled with frustration at having made no progress in earning his wife’s forgiveness. With a snarl of fury, he picks up a small wooden stool that has been left discarded by the bed and launches it towards the nearest wall. It breaks apart on impact, clattering noisily to the flagstone floor.

“Fuck!” he shouts, before dropping heavily onto the bed, placing his hands over his face in frustration.

The smell of her clings to the sheets, almond oil and rosewater, maddeningly sweet. For a moment he considers barging into the bedchamber she now occupies and simply taking her by force. She’d have no doubt of his want or love for her if he felt how passionately he needed her. He thinks better of it. If she didn’t wish for him to even take her by the hand, it is doubtful she’d appreciate him rutting into her like an untamed beast.

He sighs. He has everything he has ever wanted, and yet has managed to ruin it. He could never allow himself to just be happy. It reminds him of when he and Viserys were children. They had had family visiting from across the continent who’d brought each of the boys a gift. Daemon had received a wheeled wooden horse, which he’d taken great delight in dragging around the gardens. Viserys had been given a model of a castle. To Daemon, it had appeared that Viserys was having more fun playing with his castle than he was playing with his horse. He’d taken it upon himself to destroy both toys. If he couldn’t achieve that level of happiness, then no one else deserved to have it either. Is that what he’d done to his marriage? Shame wells fiery and acrid within him at the idea.

He doesn’t realise he has fallen asleep, exhausted by the events of the day, until he is awoken by the creaking of Melessa’s chamber door. He sits bolt upright, anticipating the sight of her exiting through the door, but is disappointed and surprised to see it is Maester Orwyle instead.

Daemon stands, blinking back sleep, and stalks towards him. “Why the fuck are you creeping out of my wife’s bedchamber in the middle of the night?” he growls irritably.

Orwyle bows his head apologetically, a hint of fear in his eyes as he regards Daemon, glowering and tightly wound. “Forgive me, your Highness—your lady wife was having trouble sleeping. She requested milk of the poppy to help soothe her. You need not worry; I kept the dosage small, considering her condition.”

“Her condition?” Daemon questions suspiciously, eyes narrowed.

Shrinking backwards with a gulp, visibly uncomfortable, Orwyle nods his head. “Y-yes, your Highness. She is with child.”

Daemon feels as though his heart skips a beat, a combination of shock and anger flashing through him in an instant that has him yanking the maester up by his robes. “She’s what?”

[ovaryacted]

I got one for yea. Anon off because I’m a degen and if I’m going to be sacrilegious, may as well show my whole ass

Leon was raised Catholic. This is canon. Now, he ain’t religious. We know this. But let’s just say he loves an s/o who’s Catholic.

To sum this up rq, us Catholics go through lent. So for 40 days after Ash Wednesday we give up one thing (or do more charity work) for those 40 days. We can have what we gave up after Easter.

Now. With that out of the way, time for me to get excommunicated.

Let’s just say Leon is curious about catholic traditions. He may not go to church but if his s/o gets the ashes on their forehead, he may as well join ‘em.

Now lent begins. And his s/o wants to give us orgasms. Not theirs. His.

For 40 days Leon is edged. At first he thinks he can handle it. It’s a challenge for him. He’s game. He gets edged once, on day 1. Edged 2 times on day 2 etc etc.

But by day like, 10, he’s cracking. He’s being brought to the edge so much and so often he’s damn near desperate. Day 20 he’s sobbing, begging to cum.

Day 30 he’s promising to go to church more he’ll convert back to Catholicism. He’ll get baptized again, just let him cum.

Day 40, on Easter, the most holy day for us Catholics, his s/o finally lets him cum. I think his brain literally shuts down from how powerful his orgasm is. Like neurons full on fizzle out processing the pure pleasure and ecstasy. I’d even bet he orgasms twice from how intense it all is.

He’s trembling, shaking, practically screaming from how good feels. He probably passes out. Leon only realizes he had completely blacked out when his s/o is stroking his cheek and praising him.

It takes a good bit of aftercare for him to return to the world but once he’s back, he’s already counting the days until lent again.

Aight Catholic Church it’s been fun. I’ll see you all in hell lmao.

I think it's kind of funny that I unintentionally saved my response to this for Easter weekend LMAO. But even though I personally am not religious, I think the idea of lent or having to give something up is an interesting one and I applaud people who do that. That being said, Leon voluntarily giving up the ability to have an orgasm because he loves his partner and wants to respect and support their faith would turn him into a reborn catholic.

This is on another level of No Nut November, military-grade abstinence that is slowly killing him over 40 days and 40 nights. He thinks he can handle it when it's first suggested, he's gone without feeling pleasure for years, and he'll make it.

He's wrong, so very wrong. In reality, he gets humbled very quickly, and after the first few edging attempts he thinks it isn't so bad until it feels like his dick is about to fall off from being on edge constantly. His body pulses, rigid as hell, he's antsy and is constantly bouncing his leg when he sits, and now has a hard time sleeping. It'll get so bad that he'll propose not being near his partner for a while because just being in the same room with them makes him hard, and the fact that he can't do anything about that kills him.

But after Leon survives the Lent period and finally gets what he wants, he almost regrets agreeing to it in the first place. The orgasms he experiences after 40 days are intense and overwhelming, and the way he has an out-of-body experience really makes him think that a God does exist. In the back of his mind, he's just thanking this Godly figure for allowing him to live this long to experience something like this. Perhaps he does black out from it all, I think he would, but it would probably change the way he thinks about everything in his life at that moment.

[bumblekastclips]

KYLE CROUSE: And DDRMASTERM has our last question before we take a break. “One night, Tangle wishes upon a star that she had a twin sister and the next morning discovers that the wish was granted…somehow. How do Tangle, Jewel, Whisper, Lanolin, and the Chaotix react to this?”

IAN FLYNN: I mean, Tangle’s excited. Her wish came true, and… we’re just going to assume that Wrangle is, you know, on her wavelength. KYLE: [laughs at the name] IAN: You know, it’s the sister that she’s always wanted! KYLE: Oh, there’s two of them… IAN: Yeah, but Wrangle has a Southern drawl, because… yeehaw. KYLE: [chuckles] IAN: And Jewel is just very, very tired, ‘cause she can handle one, but now there’s two, and she just hasn’t… [exhaustedly] she doesn’t have enough time or energy in the day to handle this. Why? Why did this wish come true, you know? Not the grant for the museum, no, no, no! [frustrated, unserious] Now you have two Tangles! KYLE: Oof. [laughs] IAN: Uh, Whisper… [sigh] we’ll do the lazy thing. Y’know, she blushes because there’s now two of her girlfriend, haha, shipping joke. KYLE: Ha. IAN: Lanolin, pretty much the same boat as Jewel. If they can focus, then they’ll be an incredible asset ‘cause now you have two of them… if you can get them to focus. If. KYLE: Eh, just point ‘em in the direction they need to go, and they’ll go. IAN: And the Chaotix are befuddled because the, uh, tail sisters are forcing them into a case to find out where Tangle got to, and they’re purposefully showing up in different parts of the city, looking identical, and throwing them off the case and really confusing them, ‘cause that’s hilarious! KYLE: [chuckles] IAN: [as Espio] “Vector, I’m beginning to think there’s two Tangles.” [as Vector] “Don’t be ridiculous, there’s only one, thank heavens!” KYLE: [laughs] Oh, no! Oh, no, Vector, I got some bad news for ‘ya, buddy. [chuckles]

—— TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: Please remember that nothing that is said on BumbleKast is canon! It’s just some guys and their opinions occasionally spitballing ideas. If you don’t like an answer, you don’t have to take it as Word of God or anything like that. It’s all just for fun!

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

would you do a sfw/relationship alphabet for sihtric? <3

love your work besos hope u are well!!x

Oh my goodness I loved doing this (quick) request, thank you!! I hope you will like it.

Sihtric x you sfw/relationship alphabet:

Affection: how/when does Sihtric show it?

private or public, it makes no difference to him

brings you flowers and (stolen) jewellery

must touch you always

no really, always

he's clingy in the best way

Beginning: how was Sihtric at the start of your relationship?

shy and a little awkward

did anything to win your heart

showed up at your door at the weirdest hours??? boy does not sleep???

told everyone about you

blushed a lot

Cuddles: does Sihtric enjoy them and how?

yes please

he loves wrapping you in his arms

but he needs loving too

will gladly spent all day in your arms

loves to leave little kisses and nuzzle your neck

Domestic: what's it like living with Sihtric, to settle down?

he's man of the house; protects you and your home at all costs

babies

gods, the man wants to have so many babies with you????

he's quite messy, probably because he gets distracted with something else before finishing the task he was doing

loves to help you cook but is not very good at it to be honest

Emergencies: how does Sihtric handle them?

he's always (battle) calm

until you get hurt

goes into full warrior mode when you have the tiniest bruise

he hurts when you are hurting

never leaves your side when you feel unwell

Fiancé: what's Sihtric like after you accepted his proposal?

he's just so eager to get married

you were practically engaged before he even spoke to you...

must. show. off. fiance. to. everyone.

everyone thinks your name is "fiance" for he will not call you anything else. Until you become "wife"

he's most loyal man to ever exist!!!!!

Gifts: how does he go about them and how does he react to them?

he loves to spoil you with gifts

all stolen though

except for the flowers, he picked those from the fields (that's what he tells you, but you're sure you've seen some bouquets at the market and you know how Sihtric needs a thrill when he's been without a battle for a while)

"Only the best for my woman" he says as he wipes fresh blood off a necklace he found

everything you do/give is a gift to him. Food you made him? A gift!! A kiss on his cheek? A blessing from the gods!

Hugs: bring 'em in.

Sihtric loves to pick you up in a hug

he's a hugger from behind

any time is a good time!

he loves it when you surprise hug him

will hug a blanket at night when he's away from you

I love you: does he say it easily and how does he react?

Sihtric has no problem with that

after 6 hours with you he already said he loved you

he tells you all the time too

it's his favourite thing to hear from your lips

his eyes always light up when you say you love him

Jealousy: is Sihtric the jealous type?

Sihtric invented jealousy

make the square!!!!!

no really, he will fight anyone who tries flirting with you

makes no attempt to hide his jealousy and gives threatening stares at all times

if looks could kill, Sihtric would have put the local alehouse out of business by now

Kisses: what does he like?

long and passionate kisses are his favourite

sloppy kisses too

he loves it when you kiss his cheek. And his nose. Also his forehead. Oh, and his neck. Gods, he loves it all.

he's always soft and gentle

until you kiss his neck

Laughter: what makes him laugh and how does he laugh?

Sihtric loves playful banter with you

laughs the loudest at the worst jokes (usually Finan's jokes)

lowkey loves it when you laugh at his clumsiness and it makes him blush

his laugh lights up the entire room (and your heart)

always a hand on his chest when he laughs out loud

Morning: how's Sihtric in the morning?

early bird

but likes to sleep in when he can!

quick breakfast eater (you always have to tell him to slow down)

refuses to let you leave the bed before him

loves early morning cuddles and kisses (causes him to sometimes be late to join Uhtred, but Sihtric has no regrets)

Needy: how needy is your man?

Sihtric is needy needy

always wants your affection and your attention

sheds a secret tear when he has to leave you (for a day or longer)

needs all the extra loving after battle

will overdramatize events to get extra attention from you

Open: does he open up easily?

Sihtric wears his heart on his sleeve

but will not tell you every detail about him right away

once he opens up there is no stopping that man from talking

being open is a key part of your relationship

no secrets, nothing to hide

Patience: does Sihtric have any?

never heard of it

must do *thing* NOW

"My love, come here, now."

"We should fight them, now."

will shout that he is calm

Quizzes: does he pay attention to you/remember things?

Sihtric remembers every little detail about you

he can recall entire conversations he had with you, very good listener!

but he will forget you asked him to clean the house

funny how he always forgets that yet remembers so much else

hmm….

Reunion: what's Sihtric like when he's been away from you?

he will just smother you with kisses

No, but really smother you, there is no escaping him

one day or a whole summer without you? It's the all same to him

tells you he loves you every 5 minutes

likes to take you with him on his horse to be alone somewhere in nature

Safety: does he make you feel safe and how?

Safe is basically his middle name

protective as heck

always has an arm around you when you're among people (or when you're alone)

will get up in the middle of the night to check if the door is locked

always has a weapon in close range

Thinking: does the think before saying/doing things?

not really, but he should sometimes

no thoughts, just actions

he's so impulsive

when he does think, he thinks about you

is actually very smart though and loves to have deep conversations with you at night

Understanding: how understanding is Sihtric?

he always tries to understand your emotions

gives you space when you need it

but also not really (always keeping an eye on you)

loves how you understand his needs and desires without having to say anything to you

mutual understanding of each other

Violence: Sihtric??? a violent man?????

'MAKE THE SQUARE!' again

will fight anyone at any time

violence is his go to answer when another man looks at you (the wrong way)

would never lay a finger on you

always battle ready

Whole: how does he feel since he's met you?

you make Sihtric feel whole

losing you would be losing his purpose to come back home

he never thought he could feel this way

still doesn't believe he completes you all the same

feels like the luckiest man alive

Xtra headcanons:

Sihtric snores

AND he hoards all the blankets

always searches for heart shaped pebbles when he travels to gift you

loves to wait behind a door and scare you

feels bad when you almost cry because he scared you

Yucky things about your relationship?:

Sihtric will step into water with dead bodies, but will not touch wet food

doesn't want you to bite your nails

*bites his own nails*

has a tendency to kiss you while still covered in dried blood and dirt

for some reason his hair always looks good even when he's all filthy

Zzz: sleeping habits?

he likes it when you fall asleep on his chest

always has his arms around you in bed

likes to bury you with him under the blankets

loves it when you sleep in his tunics

you comfort each other in a case of nightmares

[lavishl0ve]

Hiii it's me again HAHAHA I rlly love your writing, especially the last one😍

Could u please write about reader who loves biting? Both herself and Johnny? HAHAHAHAHAHA it's so weird but😭😭 anyways love youuu🫶🫶

-🫀

hii sorry for the late response on this request life hit me like a wreck 😵‍💫 but tyy !! enjoy 💋 (the song mentioned is down below if you’d like to listen!!)

Shot in the Dark plays for the fifth time this night. It does every shift I take, I’ve learned to blur it out although I find myself bobbing my head here and there. I wipe the counter, pouring a whiskey. Neat, just how he likes it. The bells strung above the door jingle as I hear his boots approach.

I turn facing him, drink in hand, placing it on the bar counter.

“Aw. You’se expecting me so early today?”

I scoff turning to him, he watches me, head slightly tilted to the right,

“Nope. You just mighty consistent comin’ here at ten each night Mr. Slaughter.” I reply, wiping the glasses.

He swishes the liquor before taking a sip, “I told ya, no need for the formalities sweetheart.”

Formalities, sure. The man didn’t even know my name, and I sure don’t plan on givin’ it to him either. He’d always come in each night, ordering that same drink. Only difference? The lady he hits on. Too bad he’s taken an interest in me.

Too bad he doesn’t have my interest.

I give him a simple mumble, “agreeing” with him. As our silence fills the bar I can tell how loud the song is now. I tend to do my job, but if I was honest… I was doing useless things, anything to look like I was busy.

“Cmon’.” He breaks the silence, “lemme get you a drink.”

I chuckle, turning toward him, “How many times I gotta tell you Mr. Slaughter?”

“I can’t drink.”

He gestured with his hands apprehensively, seeming to back off. Then he leans toward locking his eyes with mine. He glared at me through his thick eyebrows.

“Ain’t no one here Darlin’.”

His response was almost intimidating. I give him a sly smile resting my chin in my hands, hands supported by my elbows on the bar.

“My Boss.” I drag out.

He gave me a slow nod, his tongue toying with the sharp tip of his canine.

He leans in slightly closer, “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt em’.”

I scan his face, up close I notice a scar that lashes along his left eye. It somehow compliments his face so well. I take a moment just to stare before answering him.

“Take a hint lover boy.” I break the tension returning back to my very important cup cleaning.

He huffs, “You ain’t no fun.”

I glance back at him, “Bite me.”

I hear the clink of him placing the glass down.

His voice is slow and smooth, “But you’d enjoy that too much.”

His words made my stomach flip, stirring something inside me, but I couldn’t show that. Instead I just shake my head. Moments pass.

“Don’t wish for things you can’t handle.” He growls.

He catches me off guard, I turn ready to fight back against his statement yet when I look at him he’s different. His eyes had darkened with criminal smirk painted on his face, he pulled it off dangerously well. Like I was his next victim.

My mouth had probably been agape for a good minute, thank god the creak of the employees only door redirected his attention. My eyes linger on him a little longer before I’m snapped away.

“Y/N I need ya to take the trash out before you close up.” My boss dawns on that same worn baseball cap he always wears, “Have a nice night y’all.”

And just like that we’re alone. I can hear my name replaying in his head. There goes my plan of not telling him. I try to avoid that small talk with him, walking over to the trash can pulling the hefty bag out. I spin around catching myself before bumping into his wide frame. There he stands towering over me, a little too close. I hadn’t even heard him walk over. He drags his calloused hand over my arm, trying to free my grip from the trash bag.

“Lemme help you with that.” he smirks.

He never broke eye contact, and there I stayed stunned again. Maybe this plan couldn’t work out. He was mighty fine and dare I say charming… but I was one of the many girls he did this to. Just remember that y/n.

I wanted to argue, say this was my job and that I was assigned to do it, nonetheless I was speechless. And with a simple break of my grip he hurls the bag over his shoulder like it was nothing, walking out, triggering that same bell over the door. I can finally take a breath.

Maybe multiple.

I had lost track of time, almost two in the mornin’. I had been long overdue to clock out but talking to Johnny had me attentive. The soft music in the back with the glow of the neon lights made it felt all too surreal. A little liquid courage helped me cool down a bit too, although I hate to admit he got what he wanted. I did have a few drinks. We were chatting for hours, talking about the basic things like favorite colors and ages to random stuff. It had all begun to blur into my mind past one point. His company was strangely nice.

He chuckled slightly, “It’s late Darlin’ can I drive ya home?”

I roll my eyes sarcastically at his remark, “I’m capable of handling myself Mr. Slaughter.”

He looks at my eyes, glancing down at my lips and back up again.

“I’m sure you could.”

I raise my eyebrows in response. His voice cuts through again.

“But chu’ been drinkin’.”

“And you haven’t?” I toy.

“I think you’d know I can handle my alcohol just fine.” He winks.

Each time he did one of those moves I felt all fuzzy. Stupid, like I was a school girl with some crush. But no, I didn't like him. I wouldn’t allow myself to.

I walked to the back room to clock out, turning off the lighting inside the bar, he stands leaning in the doorframe waiting for an answer.

I walk up towards him, he doesn’t budge, “Scuse’ you.”

“Scuse’ me?” he laughs “You the one who ain’t gave me an answer.”

He leans slightly over me.

“You got your answer.” I reply tilting my head up to him.

I push my way through him, aiming for the door. The cold air washes over me as I’d open the front door. The nights here aren’t usually this cold. I shiver slightly, his warm hand catches my arm again. I turn to him, he walks, pushing me backwards.

“Lemme do this one thing.”

His tone was soft, sort of pleading. He had sounded so sincere, I had almost felt bad.

I breathe in deep, “Johnny…” I long out, hoping he’ll give it up.

I hit the back of his truck, he presses his body closer to me than ever and just stares. He won’t give it up. I notice that now. His eyes bore into mine just waiting. But not for my response. I can feel his body against me with each breath he takes. The air now feels hotter and thicker than ever, my heartbeat in my throat.

His hand moves the hair from my face, he also hesitates for a moment. I can’t help but give him a soft reassuring nod. That was all he needed, that simple understanding. And then, in that suspended moment, our lips met—a gentle collision of warmth and lust. It felt a dance of intimacy, a symphony of emotions conveyed through a single, lingering kiss which had built up this night. His lips were warm and cracked, his fingers tangled in my hair. He was hungry, craved for more as he pushed deeper into the kiss. His taste of whiskey and smoke invaded my senses, I felt blurred and my mind gave in. I pushed back with the same amount of force, needing all of him, all of his taste. Fuck. How he tasted so good.

It had become a power struggle, seeing who gave in first, nevertheless I knew it would be me. I break away, gasping for air, he doesn’t stop for a second, moving down to my neck, he kisses and marks as his hands explore my body, moving all over. He suddenly bites down lightly, a gasp escapes my mouth. The sting courses through my veins. The vibration of his chuckle beneath me revives me from the pain.

“J- Johnny…” I stutter.

I intwine my hands through his hair, lightly pulling it away, a sign to stop. I had pushed him too far, he was going after he wanted.

“No.” He mumbles, slipping his large hands under my tank top.

I breathe in deep as he works his way up and under my bra. We have to stop, my mind knows I can’t do this with him. But my body’s telling me differently. Was it the alcohol? Maybe.

I moan lightly from his touch, from the drag of his tongue, he suddenly breaks away.

“Get in the car.” He demanded.

Johnny had looked like a starved wolf, staring me down waiting to obey his order. With each step I take back he follows keeping us in close contact. I do not turn away, I do not break eye contact. He can watch me as much as he wants. I open the back door of his white truck, crawling backward inside. He follows shortly after, topping me, urgently resuming that kiss. His hand glides along my left leg propping it up, slipping his hand under through my shorts. He toys with my panties, twirling them in his fingers. We can play this game.

I slip my palms into his jeans, past his belt. I stroke him softly as he gasps into my mouth.

“Need some help there Mr. Slaughter~..?” I amusingly ask.

He rises above me, unbuckling his sliver belt, “You gon’ fuckin’ get it tonight.”

I chew on my fingernail savoring him, he glides the leather belt off. He suddenly grabs me, flipping me onto my stomach.

He leans close into my ear, “I think you needa be shown some discipline darlin’.”

He grabbed my hands, locking them within the leather. Propping me up, my back to his chest as he runs his hands down under my bra, teasing, rolling his fingers making me squirm with every touch. His arm gripped tight around my waist keeping me in place. He pressed his lips against my ear causing me to tilt my head slightly backward.

“You wanna give in.?” He growls.

I turn my head to look at him, “But you’d enjoy that too much.” I remarked.

That same juvenile smirk reappears on his face. If only I knew what I was getting myself into.

His hands work down to the button of my pants, throwing me toward he rips them off my legs with my shirt following after. I can hear the ripping of fabric behind me, in turn, he holds the remains of what my tank top once was. Taking a piece Johnny twists it and wraps it around my mouth.

“You gon’ need it.”

He then pulls back on the part of fabric secured in his fist causing me to be thrown back upright. He sweeps the hair off from my collarbone, giving himself free access to my neck. He digs his canines deeper than the first time, the pain shooting straight down my spine. I arch back in response to the pain but his mouth follows my body close digging, deeper and deeper. Skin breaks and I feel warm liquid drip down my shoulder, nonetheless he doesn’t stop like a starved wolf. It became an excruciating tearing sensation, as if he had been pulling my person apart. The pain surged through every fiber of my being, and the world blurred into a chaotic whirlwind of agony. Darkness enveloped me, tearing through my senses with an unrestrained brutality. I felt the sucking of his lips on my sweet liquid, the pulsations only made the pain more relentless. With each drip of life he took from me the stinging intensified.

The ripping of flesh peaked, I would try and pull away only to be met with his hard thrust into me. I scream out from the impact as he catches me from the fall, he breathes in deep, arms tightening around me. Johnny's muscles tense, his grip around my breasts squeezing. His other hand slides down my body, between my shaken legs, finding the spot driving me wild. He uses this leverage to push deeper inside, claiming me completely. Johnny's pace fastened, his rhythm trying to push himself as far into me. His girth stretching me out, met with that same stinging sensation. The symphony throbbed all throughout my body, the bittersweet harmony conjoined as the sensations danced on the border between pleasure and pain. The subtle sting of desire intertwined with the electric pulses left me breathless. Every touch was a harsh contradiction, a merging of pleasure and a hint of agony that made the experience all the more intense and unforgettable.

It made me feel alive.

Johnny pants out, the moisture of his sweat and breath transferred onto my bare body. His movements became jerkier, more erratic as he held on. With a final slam of his hips he collapses onto me, trapping me between the car seat and his body. His heavy breaths dig into my ears, swooshing my messy hair back over my shoulder I can feel his eyes analyzing me.

“I got cha’ good hm?” he mocks pressing into me.

I’d assume the bite was worse than I had thought since the stinging became more prevalent than ever now, it had felt like my skin was on fire. The cold feeling from the lick of his tongue cools off the burning. He cleans off each trail of blood from my body. Savoring every essence. I run my hand over the bite, the indentation of his teeth marked into me.

I was now his.

[xdirtyxlittlexgirl]

Reader surprising Henry Cavill with new jumpers/ hoodies for him to wear just for her to steal them later on since she loves to wear them with his smell/ stretch❤️🫶🏻

What's Yours is Mine

Pairing: Henry Cavill X Reader

Summary: You got him new clothes but ended up stealing them

Warning: Fluff, spanking, implied smut

__

You can't help but feel excited for your girls day out. You enter the bustling mall with Emily, your best friend, who is also on the hunt for some new stuff for her husband. You know that Henry hates shopping and he could definitely use some new loungewear, so now you're on a mission to find him some good stuff. "He hates shopping. That is the one and probably the only thing that annoys me." You said laughing as Emily agreed. "Same. Max's the same." She said as you two swiftly entered a store.

As you head towards the men's section, your eyes light up at the sight of the adorable hoodies, tees, and pajama sets on display. You can't wait to pick out some cozy clothes for Henry to wear at home, and lowkey also for yourself. You loved wearing his clothes, they were so comfy and most of all they smelled like him. It was as if his clothes were a safety blanket around you. Emily's eyes meet yours and she knows exactly what you're thinking. "Let's find some cute stuff for our men!" she exclaims, and you can't help but grin. You both start rifling through the racks, pulling out different items and holding them up to each other for approval.

"Oh, this would look so good on Henry!" you say excitedly as you hold up a soft gray hoodie. Emily nods in agreement and starts to look for a matching pair of sweatpants. You couldn't help but hold the hoodie up on yourself, to see if it'll look cute on you, and well it did.

"Hey, what about this?" Emily interrupts your thoughts, holding up a navy blue pajama set. You nod in approval and add it to the growing pile of clothes in your baskets. God, you would need a lot of arm strength to carry these bags. This is probably a reason why you liked when Henry came along. It saved you a lot of manpower. Before you know it, you've spent hours in the mall, laughing and chatting with Emily as you pick out the perfect items for your significant others, and also a lot of stuff for each other. You can't wait to see the look on Henry's face when he sees all the new stuff you'd picked out, especially the lingerie and some real naughty stuff from the new adult shop next to it.

"Thanks for coming shopping with me, Em. I had so much fun!" you say, as you exit the mall with your purchases, a little sweaty and out of breath by carrying all these bags. You thanked the guard who helped you both out. "Anytime, girl! See you on Saturday." she replies with a smile. You and Henry decided to invite his brothers and wives and some friends over to watch the big game.

As you drive off, you can't wait but be excited to show Henry all the new things you've picked. You were also very excited to see the look on his face when he realizes how much thought and effort you've put into his new wardrobe. His clothes had to be a certain perfect way, which is why he hated to shop.

As you pull up to your house, you see Henry standing outside, leaning against the wall with a big grin on his face. You roll your eyes at him playfully, knowing he's waiting outside to help you with your shopping or probably he was just happy to see you. He chuckles and walks over to the car, helping you out. "Hello my love" he said as he pulled you in a deep kiss. "Mmm hi there baby" you say and look at him playfully. "You don't have to always wait for me outside every time I come back from my shopping spree. You know I can handle it on my own right?" You say as he opens the boot and sees the number of bags and then looks at you with a raised eyebrow. "Sure" he said cockily, taking some of the bags from you and placing them on the ground, and you rolled your eyes.

"So.. did you have fun shopping with Emily?" he asks, his eyes lighting up as he looks at you, finally setting your bags aside and taking you in the house. You smile and nod, feeling relieved to be home after a long day of shopping. "Yeah, it was a lot of fun. We got a lot of great stuff, and I even picked up some things for you too," you say, winking at him. He grins even wider at this, pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head. "I knew there was a reason I loved you," he teases, making you roll your eyes again.

You sit down on the couch, and he disappears for a moment before coming back with a glass of water and a plate of snack. You looked at him and couldn't help but smile. "Awe thank you honey. See there's a reason I love you more" you say teasing as he chuckles. Although you were very grateful for his thoughtfulness. After you freshen up, he pulls you in his arms and then helps you out of your clothes, and you slip into one of his T-shirts, feeling the soft fabric against your skin. It's always been one of your favorite things to do after a long day of shopping, changing into something comfortable and relaxing, that is changing into his clothes, and cuddle up to him. As he sits behind you on the bed, you feel him gently massaging your shoulders and ankles, his fingers working their magic and easing away any tension. "Mm I am lucky to have you." You say relaxing with the mouthful of snacks. He chuckles "I know baby, I am the best" he adds. "You are!" You say as you put a small piece of cracker in his mouth. You let out a small sigh of contentment, feeling your body finally start to relax after a long day.

"Mm tell me babay, what all did you do today?" He asked gently kissing your temple while still working his fingers in you. "I got some bags, dresses, some new lingerie sets, a pair sunglasses, and oh I even got a new dress for brunch with your family and friends next week!" You exclaimed, grinning at Henry. "You know how much I love impressing them." Henry chuckled, pulling you into his lap further and beginning to massage your ankles. "I know, baby. And I can't wait to see you in it. But you mentioned something else just now, didn't you?" He asked intently looking at you. You giggled, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "Oh, just a little something I picked up for myself, especially after you ruined the last few pairs" you teased remembering the wild times, as he just smirked. His eyes lit up with excitement as he smirked more. "For yourself? You know how much I love it when you wear lingerie for me baby. Why don't you get up and try them on for me" he said, kissing your shoulder. Normally, he wouldn't be as enthusiastic about seeing what you got, but when it comes to the naughty stuff, he's always game. You blushed but couldn't help feeling a little thrill of excitement at the thought of modelling the new lingerie for him. "Maybe later," you said, playfully hitting him on the arm as you hide your face in his chest, but then remembers what else you bought.

"But wait, there's more!" you exclaimed like a child, almost clapping your hands together, eager to share your other big purchase with him. "I also shopped for you, babe. I picked out some cute hoodies, tees, sweatshirts and pajama sets for you." You grinned at him proudly. He looked at you more intrigued by your reaction, than the idea of new stuff. "For me? Wow baby thank you, you know how much I hate shopping. You're the best girlfriend ever," he said, pulling you into a swift kiss. He could care less about the clothes you got him, but he lived for the excitement and sense of achievement in your eyes every time you got him something.

You grinned, feeling elated and so proud, seeing him excited. "I know. That's why I had to do it for you. And who knows, maybe next time you'll actually want to learn some shopping tricks and tips from me, and come along?" You teased him as you looked up at him. He chuckled, giving you a soft kiss. "I hate shopping, but maybe I'll attend your masterclass someday, although I don't see that happening soon." He playfully teases back pointing at all the bags you got today.

Finally you both settle in for the evening, cuddled up together on the bed, sipping wine, and watching another murder mystery. You can't help but feel grateful for this wonderful man and the beautiful life you've built together.

~

Today is the game day and you have already woken up early, taken a shower and are now working in the kitchen, preparing for the big meal. Henry was being a little lazy, plus he was gonna take out the barbecue later, so you don't have to go all out. All his brothers were huge foodies, and game days like this meant having a lot of food on the table. You are in the middle of cooking some sauce when you hear Henry's voice calling out for you. "I can't hear you Cavill. Come down!" You said as you kept chopping up some strawberries. You turn down the heat. Henry has just gotten out of the shower and was frustratedly standing in his closet in just his towel. He rolled his eyes when you called him downstairs, but obliged anyway. He stood there in the door frame, just in his towel, looking at you humming your favourite song, chopping some strawberries, and wait. His attention went to what you were wearing. He couldn't help but bite his lip and smile seeing you in the same hoodie he was looking for.

"What?" you ask, looking up at him a little awestruck, because of his nakedness, as he looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. "I couldn't find that new blue hoodie you got me, have you possibly seen it anywhere?" he says, with a teasing voice and looks at you. You look down at yourself and realize that you're wearing the very same hoodie he's talking about. You can't help but laugh at the irony of the situation.

"Well, wear something else." you simply tell him but he is still giving you that cocky look. "What?" you say a little annoyed and not wanting to meet his gaze, he chuckles at you smiling at how you were acting so coy.

"You shop for me, but you end up wearing my clothes?" he says, shaking his head in amusement. "Yes, because what's yours is mine, because you're mine." You say sticking your tongue out at him playfully, knowing that he loves seeing you in his clothes, and was just playing around. He chuckled and made his way to you wrapping his arms around you from behind. He loved how they hung off your frame, how they were big enough to cover your curves. He loved how you never wore anything underneath, which he found incredibly sexy. He loved how the sleeves covered all the way up to your knuckles.

He cocks an eyebrow at you and steps closer, pulling you further into his arms. "You know, with that logic, I would like to take it back because you're mine too? Plus didn't you already buy a dress for today?" he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he chuckles at the look you give him.

You roll your eyes "Yeah, I did. But this is comfy." You pout and then look at him with squinted eyes. "Fine, I will take it off, and be naked in front of your friends and family. I don't mind that." You threaten him playfully motioning to take it off, but he grabs you by the waist and gently spanks you on the butt, making you squeal in surprise. "Tut tut tut, you're a very naughty girl you know that?" He said lifting the hoodie and spanking you one more time, and then leans down and captures your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss.

"I think you need to pay for wearing my clothes without permission" he says, a playful tone in his voice, but you can see his eyes getting dark with lust. You raise an eyebrow, feeling a flutter of excitement in your stomach at the prospect of what's about to come. "And how do you suggest I do that?" He grins and picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder, and spanks you one more time. "I think I have a few ideas," he says as he carries you back to the bedroom, his towel threatening to come undone with every step.

____

A/N: I hope you liked it. Please share more requests.