#well......... you've fallen? but where to? where to my love? who is your love? myself

[outlying-hyppocrate]

unwell about things,,,,,,, have not slept,,,,,,,, i can taste the numbers now

[sanguineterrain]

Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))

i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words

****

"I don't need protection."

The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.

"Yes, you do," he says.

"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."

"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."

And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.

It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.

And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.

Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."

"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."

Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.

Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.

He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.

"I can't just not publish the story," you say.

"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."

"I can't afford a bodyguard."

"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."

You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."

You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.

You glare. "Get off of my car."

"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."

"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."

"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."

"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"

"That's why I'd be there."

"I was talking about you, Hood."

"Funny."

"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"

Hood looks you over.

"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."

Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.

It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.

"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.

"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.

You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.

"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."

He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."

You close your door. "You're on."

****

As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.

You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.

Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.

You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.

"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.

You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.

Bang!

You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.

"You okay?"

You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.

"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.

"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"

Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.

Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.

"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.

"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.

"I ain't telling ya shit!"

"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.

The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.

"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."

Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.

You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.

Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.

Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.

"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.

"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."

You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.

"You—how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"

"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.

"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Hood looks at you.

"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."

Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.

The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.

You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.

"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."

A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.

"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."

You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"

You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.

"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"

You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.

"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."

You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.

"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."

"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."

"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."

"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."

You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.

You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."

He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."

"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."

Hood tilts his head. "Well..."

"Well, what?"

He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.

"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."

"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.

"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"

You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."

"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."

Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.

"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."

"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.

You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"

Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.

"Hood?"

You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.

Nope. Still a man.

"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."

"Stay... in your apartment?"

"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."

"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.

"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."

He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.

"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."

He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.

"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."

You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."

He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."

You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."

"You mean Batman?"

Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."

"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."

"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."

You think. Is it something you want?

Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.

"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."

He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.

"You do?" he asks.

"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."

"At any cost," he says.

That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.

"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."

"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"

"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.

Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.

You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.

(pt 2)

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine Katakuri getting a crush on you and Big mom arranging a marriage between you two

Big Mom: -takuri... Katakuri!

Katakuri: *snaps out of his day dream* Oh yes, Mama

Big Mom: where were you, you've been distracted during meetings for days.

Katakuri: It's nothing, sorry mama, it won't happen again. I have some paper work to attend to, may I please be excused?

Big Mom: yes.

Daifuku: *soon as Katakuri leaves* I believe he's fallen in love, Mama.

Big Mom: Ehh, with whom?

Perospero: With (y/n), they attended your last tea party with their father, who owns the largest vanilla orchard in the world.

Big Mom: really? Are they single?

Daifuku: I ... I'm not sure, Mama.

Big Mom: I'll look into it then, in the meantime look after your brother, make sure he keeps up with his work.

Perospero and Daifuku: Yes Mama.

Daifuku: *once Big Mom is out of ear shot* Did we just sign Katakuri up to get married.

Persopero: Probably, you know how mama is about securing ingredients for sweets. And unfortunately for our dear brother, vanilla is found in most sweets, from angel food cake to zingers.

Daifuku: but what if (y/n)'s father doesn't agree to join and marry of his only child?

Persopero: If that happens Mama will do a hostile take over, and either marry or give (y/) to Katakuri.

Later at Big Mom's residence

Katakuri: *arrives for a meeting only to find you in the conference room* Oh, what are you doing here?

You: My father has agreed to join your pirate group, and to marry me off into your family.

Katakuri: * sits next to you* ... Do you know who you'll be marrying?

You: not yet, but that's what this meeting is about.

Katakuri: *knows his mother only invites the child she wants to marry off to these meetings but doesn't want to scare you* no mater who you marry, I'll make sure you're taken care of and have everything your heart desires.

You: *gives him a weak smile* Thank you, Kata, you wouldn't believe relieved I am to hear that.

Katakuri: *extends his hand for you to hold* Mama, should be here soon.

You: *takes his hand and squeezes it with trembling hands*

Katakuri: You're shaking.

You: I've... just never not been under my father's protection, and I'm scared.... but I do feel better with you here with me.

Katakuri: *rubs the back of your hand with his thumb* Really? Even though we've only met a handful of times in the part?

Big Mom: *kicks open the door* (y/n)! I'm so glad you could come... Oh, I see you've already met your betrothed.

Katakuri: Me!?

Big Mom: *glared* You like them, don't you?

Katakuri: *blushes* mama! Please let's not embarrass me in front of our guest.

Big Mom: mmmr, very well, since you two are already getting acquainted I'll leave you to it. ... Oh, by the way the wedding is in five days. *Leaves*

Katakuri: Five days until we're married... *flops back into his chair and is lost in thought, coming to grips with the fact that he is to be married.*

You: ... I'm sorry about this I don't know what my father was thinking offering me up like this.

Katakuri: He didn't offer you up, Mama offered me up first. Mainly to gain your father's orchard, but that is beside the point. If there is anything I can do, please let me know. You probably won't be moved into my house until after the wedding, but I can have my sisters look after you.

You: You mean you won't be staying with me?

Katakuri: *takes your hands into his and presses them to his lips through his scarf* No, but only because I need to work double time, so you can have me all to yourself during our honeymoon.

You: ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠☉⁄⁠-⁠⁄⁠☉⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠)⁠⁄

Katakuri: *realizes how that sounded* Not that we have to do anything during our honeymoon that you don't want.... I'm going to go start on my work, I'll have Brûlée come and get you settled into your rooms, in the meantime please wait here.

You: Okay, and for the record, I look forward to... to having you all to myself during our honeymoon, if you catch my drift.

Katakuri: ⁠ ⁄⁠(⁠⁄⁠ ⁠⁄⁠•⁄⁠ロ⁠⁄⁠•⁄⁠ ⁠'⁄⁠)⁠⁄

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[darkbluekies]

In our own world

Yandere!king OC x fem!reader

Summary: You're bored and Edmund decides to create his own little excluded world where you and him can spend some valuable quality time, just you and him.

Warnings: obsession, isolation, Edmund thinking that he is better than everyone else (power dynamics?)

Word count: 2.1k

Oh how bored you are. You've been sitting in the large window for what feels like an eternity by now. Maybe you could ask the maids to entertain you? No, that won't work. Edmund has said that none other than him are allowed to be with you unless he's said otherwise. Maybe … maybe you could ask Edmund to do something? Maybe he could let you … go out for a little?

You jump down from the window and leave the chamber. Wherever you walk in the halls, maids and butlers stop to bow at you and wish you a good day. At first, you found it soothing that someone acknowledged your presence, but now you find them creepy. 

You reach Edmund’s office and are met by a guard standing outside.

"Can I speak to him?" you ask.

"He's busy, your majesty", the guard replies.

"Please?"

"You shouldn't disturb the king. He was very persistent on that no one should talk to him before he's done with his work."

"Oh … okay …"

"Can it wait?"

You force a smile. "Yes, it can."

"Very well."

In defeat, you turn around to leave. The guard walks into the office to check up on the king.

"Who were you talking to?" Edmund asks without looking up from his desk. "Fuck all of these papers make me insane!"

"It was the queen, your majesty", the guard answers.

Edmund snaps his head up, his heart skipping a beat. You've finally come to him? 

"What did she want?" he asks quickly.

"She just wanted to speak with you", the guard answers. "Nothing more. She said that it could wait so I sent her away. I know how you said that you didn't want to be disturbed-"

"You fucking idiot! That rule implies for everyone but her. Go get her."

"... yes, your highness."

The guard runs out of the room, sensing that he's upset the king. Edmund sighs frustratedly, shaking his head. 

He returns with you by his side just a minute later. Carefully, he walks out and shuts the door behind him. Edmund smiles fondly as he sees you. You're so pretty.

"I heard you wanted to talk to me", he says softly.

"It was nothing important", you say. 

"Yes, it was. Come here."

He pats his lap. You walk over to him slowly and sit down on his thigh. Edmund smiles and wraps his arm around your waist securely.

"What did you want to say to me?" he smiles up at you.

"I was just bored", you say and shrug. "I was wondering if you wanted to do something but you're busy. I don’t want to disturb you."

Edmund sighs and looks over the papers drowning his desk. Why does he have to be a king?

"I am", he mumbles regretfully. "I'd love to spend time with you, my jewel, but if I don't complete this before tonight the Supreme Court will grill my ass."

"It's okay … I'll entertain myself. I'm good at it."

Edmund bites his lip, thinking.

"If I hurry up, will you wait for me?" he asks and squeezes your waist carefully. "We can do something together later. Why don’t you come up with something fun to do in the meantime?"

“I want to go out”, you say. “For a little while.”

Edmund grabs your cheeks in his hand and smiles cheekily. 

“You are not allowed outside, dearest”, he says with his eyebrows raised in that condescending tone you hate — sounds like he’s talking to a child. “You’re far too precious to be spoiled by the outside world.”

You sigh and fight back the urge to slap him. 

“Go wait in the bedroom and I’ll come get you when I’m done”, he says, giving you a sweet push towards the doors. “If any of the guards give you any problem, you come back and tell me.”

You nod. Edmund smile drops once you leave. He can’t believe how his own guard turned you away. You must have felt so shocked and humiliated. Edmund’s heart breaks at the thought. He clenches his jaw. If you want to go outside, then you shall. 

You must have fallen asleep because when you open your eyes, Edmund’s kneels down in front of the bed, caressing your hair. 

“Y/N, my queen, why don’t you come with me?” he smiles. 

“Are you done now?” you ask and yawn. 

“Yes, I am. And I have something for you. Won’t you come with me?”

You get up from bed and follow him out of the room. He leads you through magnificent corridors, out to the backyard. You stop at the sight. A set table with flowers, pastries and tea. It’s taken directly out of a fairytale.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

He looks genuinely excited. Edmund loves to do these kinds of stuff. He’s never had anyone to surprise or impress before, but now that he has … it has become something he enjoys.   

“I love it”, you answer, still in shock. “Why did you suddenly change your mind?”

“I mean … this isn’t the outside world”, Edmund shrugs. “So I thought that is wouldn’t be too bad. This is our own little world. You can still see the sun, but you’re not tainted by the townsfolk. I guess I can let you be here. But only when I am too.”

You look around, seeing the high brick wall that keeps you locked in. You can tell guards are watching every corner. Edmund takes you to the table and holds out a chair for you. You sit down and start to search the table for what you should start with. 

“I’ve told the maids to stay away”, he says and lifts the teapot. “I want to do everything myself.”

You want to crack a joke about how he’s never touched his own utensils before, but you keep it in. It’s probably not a good timing. He seems to be in a good mood for once, you shouldn’t destroy it. He pours you some tea and holds out the cookie tray for you. 

“Eat as much as you like, my jewel”, Edmund says. “We have enough to feed the entire village here. Not that they will get any. Why would anyone unimportant deserve this kind of food? Pathetic. These kinds of meals are reserved for the important people.”

Pleasant as always.

“Thank you for bringing me out here …”, you say hesitantly after a while of awkward silence. “I’ve missed being outside.”

“You’re welcome”, Edmund smiles with a smile. “If you’re happy, then I am too.”  He breathes out and looks around. “Such a shame I’m always busy or we could spend all of our time together … just like this.”

You don’t answer. You’re not sure what you think about the idea. It’s not like you wanted to go to him for company. You had no other choice. He kills everyone you want to talk to. 

“Do you feel lonely without me?” he asks while keeping his eyes on the spoon he slowly moves around in his teacup. 

“I feel lonely, but I’m not sure it has so much to do with you … just overall”, you answer hesitantly. “It’s a big castle with lots of people I don’t know … everything is frightening and big …”

“It’s not dangerous for you. Only at night. But you’re safe if you stay in the parts assigned to you. You know better than to wander around.”

Oh, you know.

Suddenly, you hear a melody coming from afar. You look up, trying to find where the music is originating from. Edmund does the same and then breaks out into a small smile.

"Right, there were some things in the village today", he says, shaking his head slightly. "I should have told them to cut it out."

"What are they doing?" you ask.

"Partying. Something they don't have time for now that it’s harvest time."

He's about to stand up and tell a guard to get rid of the sound, but your hand shoots out, placing over his before you can think. He looks down at you, shock written all over his face.

"Please let them be", you beg. "They should get a break from their jobs and have some fun. They're humans. Besides … I kind of like the melody."

Edmund sighs heavily and nods. Remorsefully, he sits back down and looks at you with love growing in his eyes.

"You're wonderful, do you know that?" he asks. "I made a good choice in marrying you."

Your heart sinks whenever he talks like that. As if everything is a business deal to secure the heritage of the throne. Edmund has a tendency to be selfish and inhuman, how does he really care for you? Does he see you as another package deal to secure the future? Is he treating you differently because he should? Since you’re the queen?

"Can I ask you a question?" you ask hesitantly.

"Go ahead", he answers calmly.

"Did you marry me because you needed a queen or … because you actually wanted to?"

You can see him physically twitching. He furrows his dark brows and looks at you questionably.

"What are you saying?" he asks in confusion. “Are you serious?”

You nod. Your throat has gone dry. That voice. Oh, how you hate to confront him. He can never take anything in any way other than an attack. 

“Do you think I wanted to be married at this age?” Edmund asks with a raised eyebrow. “That wasn’t my priority, Y/N. With that said, you’re definitely not just something I ticked off the bucket list. Don’t … don’t I show you enough love?”

You shrug fearfully. After every horrific thing he’s done to the people around you — including you — there’s nothing that actually shows if he loves you or only sees you as a pet. Edmund gulps and pulls his chair back quick enough for you to shudder. He stands up and walks over to your chair … holding out his hand. You stare at it blankly.

“Would … would you like to dance?” he asks

"Huh?" you ask, wondering if you could have heard wrongly.

"Dance with me."

You get pulled up on your feet by a strong force and almost crash into him. He squeezes your waist and positions the two of you for a dance. The music from the village is enough for him to find a rhythm and bring you into a trance. You can feel the guards glancing at you. 

“Don’t look at them”, Edmund whispers warningly. “Look at me instead.”

You turn your eyes to him and he smiles. His smile makes him look like his actual age and it makes you relax slightly. After all, he’s just a young man without guidance. You shake your head. No. Don't think like that, don't give him excuses.

"There you go", he says approvingly. "Keep your eyes on me. There's only you and me in this world — in our own world — no one else."

He twirls you around before gaining another tight grip on you. You're sure that you'll get bruises on your hips by the end of the dance. You let him take the lead, not knowing where you’ll end up, but you know better than to question any of Edmund’s decisions. 

“The guards, they’re looking at you”, he says without taking his icy blue eyes off of yours. “Gawking even. Wishing that they had what’s mine. Pretty pathetic, don’t you think? To be jealous of me? As if they could ever be on my level.”

“I’m not on your level either, Edmund”, you remind him quietly, hoping to make him realize how stupid he sounds. “Would you talk about me like that too?”

He looks dumbfounded. 

“You must have hit your head or something with all the absurd questions you’re asking today”, he mutters and rolls his eyes. “No one is on my level — of course — but you’re far, far better than any of the other people in this kingdom. Don’t try to insult yourself by saying that you’re like them ever again, Y/N. I don’t like that.”

He dances round and round, holding you as close as he possibly can against his chest. You’re practically molded against his body. 

“I’m so fucking obsessed with you, Y/N”, Edmund whispers in your ear. “You make me crazy. I can never let you go. You’re so perfect.”

His arms tighten around you and you start to wonder if he’s going to break your corset. In this world of your own, he will make sure that it is only you and him. Only you and him … in your own little shielded, exluded world.

[norrisleclercf1]

Would you be open to writing a mash up of streetracer!lando and mafia!lando? Maybe something where they met when he was street racing and he’s tried to keep her out of the mafia but she’s getting suspicious and he doesn’t want to lose her?? I love all your work!!

A/N: I know you sent this such a long time ago and I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it

Lando knew it was dangerous, keeping this 3rd side of him hidden. You never questioned how he or the boys had the money to own these cars, go to university without working. You had questions but you couldn't ask them.

You both started dating after you caught him running from the cops with Max and Carlos in the back of his car, but ever since then you've fallen more for each other with each passing day.

You knew something else was going on, with him having 2 phones, sometimes leaving in the middle of the night even after he's street raced. Something wasn't right, and the worst thought that came to your mind was that he was cheating.

Walking up to the house you knock, feeling sick to your stomach with the idea that the love of your life was cheating on you. "Is he cheating on me?" You blurt, not even caring who answered the door. "Well good morning to you too." Looking up you see Carlos there, shirtless and holding his tooth brush.

Moving you shove past him as he closes the door and goes back to brushing his teeth. "Where's Lando?" Carlos freezes, eyes going wide before narrowing slightly. "He's out," "At 8am in the morning? Please Carlos, we both know he sleeps in late after being out racing all night." You scuff at the insult of Carlos lying to you.

Carlos spits into the kitchen sink and turns around. "Y/n, really he's out." Carlos groans running a hand through his hair. "So, I can go into his room." You point down the hall and move towards it and hear Carlos growl as you rush to Lando's room and throw the door open. You freeze seeing Lando in the bedroom.

Counting cash

A lot of cash

With a gun

A shit ton of cash and a gun

"Lando?" Lando looks up, eyes growing wide filled with fear and shock. "Y/n, I can," "No," You slam the door close and move past Carlos and rush out of the house and running back to your home.

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

"Y/n! Baby, please open the door!" Lando knocked on the door, has been for the past hour. "Y/n, please." Lando's voice breaks as he tries to get you to come to the door and talk to him.

"Y/n, it's true okay, it's all true. Max, he, fuck he runs this buisness and yeah maybe it's called the Mafia! But, but I was trying protect you. All I do is to protect you, don't, don't end this without facing me." He pleads, and you can hear the tears clogging his throat.

Moving you throw the door open, both your faces marked with blotchy skin and tear stained eyes. "I thought you were cheating on me, and a part of me is relieved but another part wishes you were cheating on me." You snap and Lando sniffles and wipes his eyes.

"My world is dangerous and hard. If people found out, the wrong people would be after you and I can't live with myself if that happened." Lando whispers, furiously wiping his tears.

"I need you to leave, please leave." You try to close the door but he stops it with his foot. "You are the love of my life, I'm not letting you go that easily. I'm coming back, Y/n. And I'll always come back, just know I'll be here for you. I'll, I love you." You swallow and close the door as you slide down it, the both of you crying.

[luveline]

Hi Jade, I’m thinking about soulmate prince Steve again. Can I request something (any length) with reader starting to feel like she fits in and finding something she enjoys doing around the palace (lending a hand in the library? Working in the garden? Helping in the kitchen?) and someone makes a comment about it and she stands up for herself?

Basically I think it’d be nice to see how her relationship with Steve getting stronger helps her feel more confident in her position

prince steve au ♡ fem

You find that with proper instruction, time, and resources, you love to cook. It's an odd thing to discover in your twenties, perhaps; any of your peers who liked to cook were already learning by the time you left school, dipping into restaurants in the wealthier north city, or training for prestigious positions in the Palace kitchens.

Steve sneaks in to see you every now and then. You're pushing the brunt of your palm into a soft dough when you feel his touch, a quick stroke of the knuckle against your lower back before his hand comes up, cupping your shoulder. 

"What's this?" he asks. "It looks good, smells good. You're smiling." 

"Yes, I'm smiling, I'm happy. And you've come to see me." 

"That's why you're smiling?" he asks. 

A strand of hair has fallen into his eyes, and a second chunk follows as he leans in. Not to kiss you, though you'd probably welcome it, but to make sure you can see his smile too. 

"Where's your crown?" you ask. 

"I'm striking. How ridiculous it is they expect me to wear it in my own home, I don't care if there are deputies visiting." 

"Can I take off my finery?" You've been dressed in very nice clothes considering they're now covered in flour, but the weight of the jewellery is the real annoyance. "It's too much, Steve." 

Steve's gaze dips down to the mass of jewels held against your collarbone. "Too much," he agrees, reaching around you. His fingers brush the back of your neck, eliciting a tiny metal clink as he unclasps your necklace and pulls it free. "Much better. You don't need any of this to look fine." He pockets it.

You stroke the loose hairs from his face. 

"Oh, sorry." You wipe at the smudge of flour you've left behind. "Sorry. I'm making it worse. Good thing you're so pale." 

"Alright." He looks like he might giggle. "So mean to me. I'll go do some fencing in the sunshine and maybe you'll grow to love me." He does giggle, then, at his own joke no less. 

He expresses that your loaf of bread should please god end up on his plate first, and then he kisses your cheek and tells you he'll see you at dinner. It's a very nice farewell that gives an extra aura of happiness to your bread-making. 

"You won't actually give the Prince your bread, will?" one of the cooks asks. 

It's innocuous, but it pisses you off. Steve is a Prince, yes, but he's your boyfriend, your soulmate (scream), he's your equal in partnership even if he's a royal, and isn't his treatment enough proof? Why would he come down to the kitchens to dote on you? Why would he ask to try your bread first? 

"I don't appreciate the idea that it isn't worth his time. I'm making something and he likes me enough to want to try it. Why wouldn't I give it to him?" you ask, not angry, exactly, no icy cold zing. Just irritated and honest about it. "It might not be perfect, but if he wanted perfect he could ask for it." 

"Who says you aren't perfect?" Steve asks.

You flush with heat. He grins at you and the cook who'd spoken, as well as the other assistants and apprentices who stop to stare. "Forgot to give you this." He presses a small pouch into your hand. "Dinner," he promises. 

"See you," you promise back. 

You let him leave before you turn from the counter to open his gifted pouch against your abdomen. Inside is a generous handful of sugar pear drops, the kind you ate together on your first stolen date a few weeks ago, and a note. 

To tide you over. 

P.s if I didn't make myself say it, you look super pretty today and I can't wait to see you tonight 

–Steve 

You put one of the sugar pear drops under your tongue and hide the note safe inside your jacket pocket, schooling your features into impassiveness as your soulmark glows a gauzy cerulean. 

[hellcat8908]

Neglected Rhysand x Female Reader

Over the last few weeks, you've noticed a growing distance between you and Rhys. At first, you told yourself he was just busy with his duties and that things would slow down. It seemed like the exact opposite. His nights got longer as he went over reports, and his meetings seemed to last longer and become more frequent.

You had tried to tactfully bring up your feelings, but he either made empty promises of trying to make more time for you, or he just disregarded your feelings altogether. After he seemed to be getting annoyed with the conversation, you stopped bringing it up. You tried to flirt with him and tease him during the day, craving any sort of attention from him. Often, he dismissed you telling you he had work to do.

Tonight was no different. After dinner, he headed back to his office and all but locked the door. You decided to go to bed. The bed had become cold and lonely in his absence. You reached over to his side, feeling the cold of his pillow and the emptiness under the blanket. You longed for things to return to how they were in the beginning.

When the two of you couldn't get enough of each other. You practically had to kick him out of bed in the morning. The way he would hold you until you both fell asleep. You missed those times. A few tears escaped your eyes at the memories. You decided enough was enough and quickly found a piece of paper and pen before writing a note and leaving it on the pillows for Rhys to find.

You grabbed a few changes of clothes and snuck out through the garden. You made sure to put enough distance between you and Rhys before reaching out to Azriel, hoping he was still awake. In a matter of minutes, he was in front of you. You asked him to fly you to the house of wind for the night.

He looks at you concerned, knowing something isn't right. "I'll be fine, Az." You say, not sure who you're trying to convince more yourself or him. He gives you a small nod before lifting you in his arms and carrying you to the house of wind. Once you're on the terrace, he lets go of you. "Thank you, Azriel." You say softly before giving his arm a gentle squeeze.

You carry your bag to your old room before climbing into bed. You wonder how long before Rhys finds the note and comes looking for you if he comes looking for you. Your heart becomes heavy at the thought he might not. You curl up under the blankets and cry yourself to sleep.

Rhysand,

I have felt us slowly drifting apart over the last few weeks. I have tried to voice my concerns, but your focus is elsewhere. I have decided I need some time to myself to figure out where to go from here. I love you, but I fear you don't love me how you used to. This is not an ending. This is simply a pause in our story, unless you want otherwise.

Countless nights, I have fallen asleep alone in the bed we once shared and have woken alone, often unable to tell if you even came to bed at all. I understand that you have responsibilities to your court, and I can't fault you for that. However, you have responsibilities to me as well, and I've often gone neglected. I always knew that your court and your people would come first, but I am hoping you still have a place for me.

Love always,

Y/n

Rhys sat on the edge of the bed, reading your letter over and over. His mind raced with how things had gotten to the point where you'd leave in the middle of the night. He thought of the last few weeks. He hadn't realized how much he neglected you. You had tried to tell him, tried to make him pay attention, but he just dismissed you.

He was torn between tracking you down and giving you the time you needed. He kept going back and forth, realizing he had already wasted too much time not giving you the attention you deserve. Within seconds, he was reaching out to Cassian and Azriel. "Y/n is gone, and you must help me find her." He commands them. "Calm down, she isn't gone she is sleeping in her old room at the house of wind." Azriel answers, sounding half asleep.

"I'm on my way." Rhys tells him. "Surprised you're not already here." Azriel replies with a smirk. Azriel is waiting on the terrace when Rhys arrives. "She sleeping?" Rhys asks, glancing towards the house. "For the moment. It's not a deep sleep." Azriel says. "I've messed up, and I'm not sure how to fix it." Rhys admits as he leans on the railing overlooking Velaris. "You'll figure it out." Azriel assures him as he squeezes his shoulder to comfort him.

"She left in the middle of the night." Rhys says, sounding distraught. "Yeah, but she didn't go far, and she made sure she was easy for you to find. Man up and go apologize, grovel, and do whatever it takes." Azriel says before telling him you're awake. Rhys runs his fingers through his hair and takes a few deep breaths before walking inside to find you.

He gently opens the door before stepping in, "Y/n, are you awake?" He asks softly, knowing you are but trying to guage your reaction. "I'm awake." You murmur. He shuts the door behind him and moves to sit on your bed. "I am deeply sorry for not realizing how I've been neglecting you these last few weeks. I'm even more sorry for dismissing you when you tried to tell me. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. I never want to make you feel this way ever again." He says.

The bond is full of all his emotions, regret that it took you leaving to realize the mistake he made, his undying love for you, fear that you won't be able to forgive him causing you to leave. Just when you thought you couldn't cry anymore, a few tears fall to your pillowcase before wrapping your arms around your mate. "I love you, but things are far from fixed. You'll have to prove things will be different, love." You tell him. "I will, darling." He says, holding you tight.

"We're both tired and emotionally drained. Let's get some sleep, and we can continue this conversation when the sun is up." You say before yawning. You lift the blanket up as a silent invite for Rhys to join you. Once he is next to you, you cuddle up beside him before he wraps his arms around you. For the first time in a while, you feel like you've made a step in the right direction together.

[rius-cave]

Ok but imagine adamsapple in bed and Adam is like " why don't i top for once"

And Luci raises his eyebrows

Adam " I'm the original dick, i know how to use it!"

Luci " considering I've stolen both your wives, i severely doubt that" adam huffs. Luci sighs. " You've been bottoming for a while, would you trust YOURSELF yo top you?"

And Adam blue screens

( does this lead to angsty self introspection or to luci riding him? Who knows)

Anon I hate myself. Somehow my response to this turned into a full on drabble 🙈 I'm so sorry I don't know how this happened. Here it is I guess. I'm putting it under a cut because the language gets a little explicit skfjdgfd

"Come on. What? You think I really couldn't do it? Do you not want me to fuck you that badly?"

Lucifer glared at him in judging silence, an eyebrow raised.

"Would it really kill your ego to let me do it just once? I mean seriously I'm sure I could have you screaming in no time." Adam stated, anger obvious on his voice.

"Mm-hm," Lucifer hums, reclining his back on the headboard and closing his eyes. "You could."

"Oh please! You haven't even let me try! If you gave me the chance to- wait what did you say?" Adam's mouth gaped, his brain just now catching up with his ears.

"I said you could," the hellborn replied, a smug smile on his face. "We've been doing this for weeks now, haven't we? You think I've never wanted to feel your cock inside of me?"

Adam choked on his own saliva before sitting up on the bed, astonishment plastered across his face. It wasn't weird for Lucifer to talk directly like this, but hearing him just… admit that he wanted it was not something Adam ever expected to hear. To be frank he was half waiting for Lucifer to chuck him out to the next ring.

"Wait really?"

"Really," Lucifer affirmed without a tint of shame in his voice. "I may be more skilled than you," he began again, earning a brief glare from Adam. "But I could teach you how to do it, show you where I like it, actually top someone properly for once."

"I…" The sinner began, still not believing his hearing. Suddenly, a smile crept up his face, excitement pouring from his eyes as well as starting to fill up his cock. "Oh! Okay! Fuck yeah, let's go!" He cheered in anticipation, already lifting up the sheets from both his body and Lucifer before his wrist was firmly stopped.

"Uh, what?"

"Not now, you idiot. We just did it. I'm tired and we need to get to the hotel early tomorrow," Lucifer explained with a little sharpness in his voice.

"What? But I… we… you…" He fumbled, a rapid sequence of anger, frustration and disappointment flashing across his features.

"That's not fair! Come on, I…!" He couldn't come up with any good reason. They did have to meet up with Charlie tomorrow (or today, at this point), and they did go at it for about an hour and a half that night. He couldn't say that his own eyes weren't closing before the conversation started.

He growled in frustration like a kid having been promised a candy only for it to be snatched from his hands right as he was about to take a bite. His wings fell to his sides and his mouth closed in a tight line.

A chuckle caught his attention once more.

"Aww, don't be sad, love," the king cooed as he leaned forward, taking one of Adam's cheek in his hand. I promise the next opportunity we have, that'll be the first thing we do, okay?" His voice was soothing and alluring, calming down Adam's anger immediately.

"… Fine," Adam finally grumbled, a small blush creeping up his face at the intimate touch. Those kinds of gestures still threw him for a loop every time. He was used to bites, scratches and pulls from the King of Hell, but any time the demon showed his softer side to him, Adam couldn't help but feel his brain short circuit.

"That's a good little lamb," Lucifer grinned, before leaning in to capture Adam's lips in a soft kiss, meant to seal the promise that he just made.

The recently fallen angel melted into the kiss with a sigh, all his frustration completely gone now. It was still embarrassing how he would just turn to putty under Lucifer's touch. If his soldiers could see him now his reputation would never recover. But still, it felt good to let go of his control when it was Lucifer who slowly, methodically, stripped it away from him.

"Mhm, very well. Let's go to sleep now," Lucifer gently broke the kiss, holding Adam's cheek lightly and dedicating him a smile.

"Okay," Adam replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't worry sweetheart. I'll make sure to prepare my little ass so well for your cock, so that you can slide in easily. I'll ride your dick so good and milk it so hard that you won't be able to feel it by the fifth time I make you cum inside of me."

Lucifer grinned innocently, patting Adam's cheek before finally laying down again and getting comfortable under the covers.

With each word Adam felt his insides get hotter and hotter, to the point that by the end of Lucifer's promise, there was no doubt that he was properly hard now.

A couple seconds later, he could hear the quiet snores coming from the demon next to him.

Adam growled loudly. The frustration was back a hundredfold.

[elizabethwritesmen]

I once was poison ivy

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Part 2 but now I’m your daisy

Older!Fireman!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Synopsis - You've spent your entire life taking men who intend to manipulate you and manipulating them instead. It's the only way you know how to survive. Then, one day, you meet Steve Harrington and you realize love and lust are so much more than survival.

A/N - This will be a two-parter. Maybe three if it runs too long.

Warnings: Fluff, sexual themes, smut to come in the second part, talks of using men for their money, vivid description of a car accident, drunk driving.

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

I've been breaking hearts a long time and Fooling with them older guys Just playthings for me to use

The napkin on my lap was in pieces.

I'd been tearing it apart, whether out of anxious habit or sheer boredom I wasn't sure.

The man sitting across from me just would not stop talking. He started the second I met up with him in the parking lot and hadn't closed his mouth since. I nodded along and provided just enough commentary to seem present, but my brain was miles away.

He cleared his throat, staring at me pointedly until I met his eyes, a saccharine smile gracing my face.

"Are you alright, doll? I know all this shop talk can be a lot for a pretty girl like you to keep up with," he stated with all the confidence in the world, and I fought a scoff at his condescension.

"Oh, I'm fine!" I grinned wildly, almost childlike, "To be honest, I'm just in awe of you. Absolutely fascinated. I keep asking myself what I did to deserve a date with you!"

The lies cut through my teeth like butter, slick and smooth. I knew they worked when he puffed out his chest and a red tint covered his full cheeks, "Well darling, if you keep talking to me like that, you'll get more than one date with me!"

"There's nothing I'd love more!"

I know I should've cursed him for all he was worth, but that's not how my lifestyle worked. I didn't care how much of a pig a man was, as long as his money was louder than his mouth. And this man's money definitely was.

You see, he was older, a business man. He worked at some high end finance job, and he was most definitely the boss. I met him through my own job. I was a waitress and he frequented my corner booth on his lunch breaks. He knew my schedule and came to eat every single day I worked at 12:00 sharp with a new story about his job, his divorce, or his 1970 Chevelle. On the days I didn't work, he stayed away, claiming I was the only girl there worth looking at. And, every time, he left me a crisp 100 as a tip.

The last time he'd come in, he'd ended his lunch by asking me on a date. He told me he wanted to pick a dress out for me and treat me to the nicest dinner I'd ever had. Poor thing had no idea he wasn't the first millionaire to offer that. I agreed happily, pushing down any reservations and forcing myself to look forward to it.

So there we were, at one of those restaurants where you have to dress formally and use certain etiquette. I hated those places, I knew I didn't belong there, but it was what I had to do and I always did it with a smile on my face.

He continued talking and I began fiddling with the Versace dress adorning me, tugging on the hem. I only heard snippets of what he was saying. After hearing a million men tell the same stories, I thought there was no reason to pay any real attention.

Our waitress startled me out of the trance I'd fallen into, dropping the check off at our table.

"Here," he smiled, placing $200 neatly in the little black book, "That's enough for you to add a cheesecake to-go for my beautiful companion, and to buy something pretty for yourself!"

The girl's eyes widened and she grinned, staring at the generous amount she'd been given. It took her mere moments to bring by a bag with the cheesecake in a box at the bottom, and I was finally done.

"I'll walk you to your car," Mr. Boring offered in a way that I couldn't possibly refuse.

Well, almost done.

Once we reached my Passat, he pressed me lightly against the driver's door and planted a sloppy kiss on my lips. I cringed my way through it until it was finally over, and he opened my door for me.

"Maybe we can go out again next week?" he proposed, "I'll call you and we can set it up."

"Of course!" I nodded, eagerly climbing into the seat.

"Oh, and before I forget," he sighed, pulling his wallet from his pocket and fishing out two more crisp hundred dollar bills, "This should cover gas and the rest is a thank-you for making an old man feel young again. Seeing you in that dress made my evening."

I smiled at him as he walked away, my expression dropping the second he was out of sight. And then, I was finally headed home.

Something happened for the first time In the darkest little paradise Shaking, pacing, I just need you

It was about a 30 minute drive to my house, and I had the music cranked up the entire way. I was passing through the last intersection before my highway exit when I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

It was an SUV, much bigger than my car, headed straight for me. It was going so fast but in that moment time slowed down. It was too late for me to stop or get out of the way, I knew I was screwed. I yanked the wheel to the right, hoping they wouldn't hit me directly. I thought that if they caught the back end of my car it would hurt less.

They slammed into the back driver's side door, just barely missing me, sending me careening across the highway and into the ditch. I screamed as my head slammed into my window, blood running down my temple and onto my neck.

Finally, everything stopped. My car was, beyond all rationality, still playing music. I turned it all the way down, looking around.

The SUV was upside down on the highway, engulfed in flames. I saw a man laying about 20 feet away from it on the asphalt. I prayed he was okay, and that nobody else was in his vehicle.

Then, I examined myself. Glass had shattered everywhere, and there was a pile of it in my lap. My poor Versace was tattered and bloody, and I frowned momentarily in a small fit of grief. The back of my car was completely done for, and I was shocked my airbags didn't go off. Of course, there was no impact to the front of my car.

It only took minutes for sirens to overtake the scene. There were two ambulances, a firetruck, and several police cars.

I slipped my seatbelt off, groaning at the pain. It felt like I'd been hit by a truck. I guess I had, in a manner of speaking. My body was suffering from the turmoil.

Shockingly, my door opened when I pulled the handle and I climbed out, falling to the ground with a cry and a sharp wince.

"Hey, hey, hey!" the voice was deep, and I glanced up to see the fireman it belonged to running in my direction, "Don't move, just stay still. Please, stay still. God, you could've died trying to climb out of that car. Too tough for your own good!" He kneeled beside me, his arms holding me up, his eyes scanning me for all signs of injury. "Here you go, calm down. It's okay now, I've got you."

His voice was soothing me, and so was his thumb as he rubbed calming circles on my hip.

"Please," I cried, my voice almost too small to be audible. I squirmed, trying and failing to break free, "I need... I need..."

I wasn't sure what I was pleading for. I just wanted relief. My bones felt like they were combusting.

"I'm gonna get you some help, sweetheart, I promise. You're safe with me." He called the paramedics over to have a look at me. They ran straight for us and he lifted me up placing me comfortably on the stretcher.

As he began to walk away, I called out meekly, "Please stay with me!" and reached blindly for his hand. He gave it to me and nodded, squeezing my palm lightly as he helped them wheel me to the ambulance. They got me inside of it and starting poking and prodding, asking me questions.

"I don't want to go to the hospital," I whined, "I'm fine, I don't need a hospital."

"We gotta get you to the hospital, sweetheart. I'm sorry, I know it's scary, but you're tough though, huh?," his voice was still so soothing, and I nodded, holding tighter to his hand that was still intertwined with mine.

"Will you come with me?" I stared up at him, my eyes wide and pitiful in a beg.

"I can't, I have to get back and help clean all this up," he told me, his voice regretful.

"Please," I was whimpering at that point, desperate. I hated begging but he was the only thing keeping me from an anxiety attack. The only thing grounding me. The only thing keeping me from asking questions like, what if I'm seriously hurt? What's going to happen with my car? Is my cheesecake okay? How am I going to replace this dress?

Okay, some of the questions were silly but cut me some slack. I'd just been hit by a truck.

He chewed his lip in thought for a moment before sighing, "Let me talk to my boss and see what I can do."

He was gone for about five minutes, but when he came back, he was only in a white T shirt and his turnout pants. He set his jacket and hat on the bench seat next to me and climbed in beside me, grasping my hand again.

"Thank you," I whispered, and the sweet smile he gave me warmed my tummy.

Hours passed in a flurry of medical stuff I didn't understand and tests being run. When everything calmed down, I was sitting on a bed in an ER, a thick medical grade bandaid on my temple where I hit the window and some pain killers in my system. Fortunately, I wasn't hurt badly at all, just extremely sore and shaken up. I had a concussion, but that was the brunt of it.

"Okay, Miss L/N. I've got a prescription here for painkillers, it should help soothe your soreness and your headache. Other than that, you're free to go," the doctor walked in the room and told me jovially. He was nice, he made me feel comfortable. I was thankful to have him instead of someone colder. But what really made me feel comfortable was the firefighter, whose name I'd discovered was Steve. He stayed right beside me the entire time, even when I was first admitted. He even called my mom for me when I was first admitted, and that's the only time he let go of my hand.

"I think that's all, thank you," I sincerely responded.

"Great. Then I'll leave you be. If anything else happens, come back. Concussions are no joke. But I'm sure Steve knows that, so you're in good hands. He'll take care of you," he gave us a pointed look, glancing from mine and Steve's interlaced fingers to our faces.

"Bye, Joe," Steve dramatized, rolling his eyes.

"Bye Steve. Bye Y/N," the doctor responded between laughs, taking his exit.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Steve turned to me, his hard features softening the second his eyes met mine.

"Have you heard anything else from my mom?" I asked, trying to keep the hope in my voice at bay.

"She checked on you once, about an hour ago. I told her I was taking care of you."

"Oh."

His eyes were boring into me, searching. I'm sure it seemed odd to him, a mother not immediately rushing to her child's side when she hears there's been an accident. Wasn't very strange to me, though. My mom had never spared much time for me.

He cleared his throat, speaking more quietly, "She said she wants me to get you home safe, so that's what I'm gonna do. One of the nurses is gonna give us a ride to the station and I'm gonna drive you from there."

"Well it's settled, then. Let's go," I beamed, grabbing his hand and hopping off the bed. I didn't make it very far, though, nearly collapsing the second my feet hit solid ground.

Steve was quick, catching me and holding me steady. I lifted my eyes and they met his, inches away. I could feel his breath, warm against my skin.

"Be careful there, Super Girl. You're too weak to take on the world just yet," he sighed, and I had to fight the urge to lean in.

He was handsome. I'd noticed it the second he ran over to me, my knight in dirty turnout gear. I'd noticed it again in the ambulance when he told me he could go to the hospital with me. And I noticed it as his arms squeezed me tighter.

"I can walk," I mumbled.

"I'm sure you can, but you aren't. Come on, I've got you," he stated, as if there was no room for argument or disagreement. One of the arms around me slipped down to the crook of my knees and he lifted, pulling me securely into his hold. I gasped, grasping tightly to his shirt, my nails leaving imprints in the soft fabric.

"Steve, I'm heavy!" I screeched, and he chuckled.

"Even if you were heavy, I can handle it," he said, like it was obvious. My stare stayed skeptical and he sighed, "Sweetheart, you're not heavy. You're nothing compared to the gear I wear and haul, and the people I have to carry out of buildings."

I stayed stubborn for a moment longer before giving him a slight nod, "If your back starts to break, put me down!"

"I don't have any plans to put you down, sweetheart," he winked, and with that, he was carrying me to the ambulance bay where an Altima was waiting for us. One of the nurses was leaning against it. She was pretty, like a young Angelina Jolie. Her scrubs hugged every curve and jealousy pinged in my gut at how perfect she was. It turned to discomfort, though, when I saw the way she was looking at us.

There was a scowl plastered onto her face, full of judgment. Her eyes were stuck on Steve's arms around me, and if looks could kill, she'd have me dead in a second.

"Can you open the door for me, Bridget?" he asked, frustration laced in his voice from the way she was staring at us instead of helping.

"Of course, Stevie," she cooed, doing as she asked. He helped me in the back seat, going as far as to buckle the belt around me. My breath hitched as he did so, the proximity turning my cheeks bright red.

Bridget's face dropped as he slid in beside me and shut the door behind himself. She opened it right back, "What are you doing, Steve? Your spot is up front!"

"I'd rather sit back here with Y/N and make sure she's okay. Come on, we should get going. I'm sure she's ready to shower and rest."

She huffed, her anger embarrassingly evident, but she gave a slight nod and slammed the door, climbing into the driver's side and speeding off. My head was pounding, so I leaned on Steve's shoulder the whole time. Every now and then he'd shield me from the sun with his hands or run his fingers through my hair, keeping me as comfortable as he could.

Once we got to the fire station, he helped me out and we waved goodbye to Bridget. She gave me one more dirty look before leaving, and I hoped I would never see her again.

"There you are, Steve!" a voice joined into the mix, and I turned around to see a man about Steve's height with long curly hair approaching. He had a bag in his hand.

"Hey, Eddie," Steve greeted, "Thank you for covering my shift all night."

"All night and all morning. I'm assuming you won't be back after you take her home."

Steve looked bashful. It was cute, his cheeks turning red and his eyes averting downward.

"I promise I'll make it up to you, man. I just couldn't leave her, she needed me," he rushed out an explanation and I couldn't stifle my giggle.

"Yeah, sure she did. Come on, dude, I'm not mad. I needed the hours anyway and I'm not like you, I don't have a ton of beautiful women begging me to escort them to the hospital. My Friday night was all free."

"I don't have a ton of them either," Steve cried out defensively, "Just the one."

"Well then get her home before she decides she doesn't neeeeeeed you anymore," the other man, Eddie, winked then and turned to me, "Oh, by the way, I'm Eddie. Steve's best friend, confidant, life saver, shift coverer. I'm the reason he could be with you all night."

His tone was joking, so I played along, "Oh, well thank you so very much. I would've just died without him. As a matter of fact if he leaves my sight I'm sure I'll faint."

"Marry her," Eddie deadpanned, turning to Steve with the most ridiculously serious look on his face. The only response he got was an eyeroll. "Okay, whatever, get out of here. Here's the rest of your stuff, and what we managed to get out of Y/N's car. You can make the shift change up to me later." He handed Steve the bag and glanced my way, "And Y/N, I'm sure I'll be seeing you again. Until then, I'm glad you're okay."

Steve pulled his keys out of the bag, clicking them. A truck beeped across the parking lot and he wrapped his arm around me, helping me over to it.

The last we heard of Eddie was a scream over the parking lot, "Oh and Steve, put some clothes on that poor girl!"

He glanced down at my ripped up dress and blushed.

"Here," he handed me his turnout jacket, "Put this on."

I did as he asked and slipped back into his arms, allowing him to lift me into the passenger seat. I liked the way the material felt on me, warm and loose. It smelled of smoke but it also smelled of cinnamon and something muskier, all Steve.

As he pulled away, I decided to make small talk. It was a ten minute drive back to my house and I didn't want it to be awkward. Not that a single moment we'd already spent together had been. Steve had a way of making me feel like I was finally safe at home.

"Bridget and Eddie seemed nice," I commented. Obviously, I didn't mean the first part but I had a sinking feeling that Steve and Bridget were something of an item and I didn't want to upset him.

"Eddie is a great guy. We've known each other forever, and he's always had my back." He paused for a moment, "And Bridget was awful to you today. You don't have to pretend she wasn't."

"I just thought you and her were probably friends, or maybe even a thing, and I didn't want to say anything mean about her just in case," I smiled softly, apologetically.

"We're not. But she wants to be. She's a uniform chaser. She doesn't know the first thing about me other than my job."

"Do you get that a lot? Girls that are only interested in you because of what you do?"

"More often than you'd think. But it's okay. I guess it's better than not being wanted at all."

"You think if you were something else, something more boring, girls wouldn't want you?" My brows were furrowed in confusion. How could a man so wonderful have such a gaping insecurity?

"I didn't feel that way at first, but I guess I've become cynical over time."

"Well, I'm cynical with the best of them and I'm telling you that you're wrong," I started, "Don't get me wrong. The turnout gear is ruggedly sexy. Straight out of a calendar, really. But I wouldn't have wanted you to come to the hospital with me if you were any other fireman. I wanted you there because of how you made me feel. Safe, and taken care of."

Silence filled the air. I don't think he knew how to respond.

"What about you?" he finally asked, "That was a nice dress before it was ruined. You must've been on quite a date."

"I wouldn't call it that," I stared at my lap, color rising in my cheeks.

"Didn't go well?"

"It's not that, it's just... I wasn't really interested in him."

"What was wrong with him?"

"You ask a lot of questions," I breathed out a laugh, wanting a subject change. I felt shame, like if Steve found out the kind of men I date and why, he would drop me off and forget about me. I didn't want that. I craved more of him. More of his time, and his headspace. I hadn't known him long, but it's hard not to swoon over a man who spends hours of his time taking care of you.

"I'll stop. For now."

Shortly after he said that, we pulled into my driveway. He helped me out of his truck and into my house, commenting on how cute he thought everything was.

"Where's your bathroom? I'm gonna get the shower running for you," he turned to me and said.

"Oh," I blushed, "You don't have to do that. Really. I can manage to get around."

"I want to. I told you I would take care of you, and I'm not doing it halfway. Now should I go looking until I find it or are you gonna tell me where it is?"

"My room is down the hall, the bathroom is in there," I smiled shyly.

He didn't waste a second, pulling me back into him and let me lean on him the entire way there. I leaned against the sink as he looked around, taking the room in.

"A bath would probably be better than a shower. You're still weak, I don't want you to slip and hurt yourself."

I didn't respond, I just watched him as he turned the faucet on and felt the water, adjusting until the temperature was perfect.

"Thank you," I finally said as he finished up and stopped the drain.

"Of course. You gonna be able to get from the tub to the bed?" he asked me.

I giggled, nodding, "I think I'll manage."

"Okay... if you have any trouble or need anything, you're welcome to call me."

"How am I gonna do that without your number?"

His face went red, a silly smile crossing his lips, "Of course. You're right. Here."

He slipped his phone out, pulling up the screen to create a new contact and handed it to me. I quickly typed in my name and info and handed it back. He called me once, hanging up as soon as it rang, and nodded once affirmatively.

"There. Now you have mine, too."

"I'll call you, Steve."

"Yes, if you need anything at all."

"Okay."

He seemed reluctant to leave, and I was reluctant to let him, but he finally mumbled a goodbye and let himself out. I grinned into my hand, the butterflies still not settled.

I was not the kind of girl to feel things like I was feeling. I had a process, a way of getting through life, and it didn't involve getting hung up on the first handsome fireman I meet. I willed myself to come back to reality, but it was difficult. His face was stamped into my mind.

My phone pinged and I glanced down, his number filling my screen.

"I left my jacket. Can I stop by later and get it? And bring you dinner? I'd like to check on you anyway."

Any hope of coming back to reality flew out the window. I typed quickly and pressed send before I could talk myself out of it.

"It's a date."

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Jade Leech - Platinum Jacket Vignette

"Happy 100th Anniversary"

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Jade: I see this art museum not only has many art pieces depicting tales from the surface, but also from under the sea.

Jade: I suppose this may mean that just as there are merfolk fascinated by land, those on the surface may have garnered interest in the ocean as well… Oh?

???: These are the two moray eels that served the Sea Witch. And yet, their expressions…

Jade: I believe they look quite kind and gentlemanly. Do you not agree, Riddle-san?

Riddle: …Oh Jade, it's you. Unfortunately, I have to disagree with your opinion there. That's because…

Riddle: In this painting their grins look as though they are plotting something untoward, not unlike how you and Floyd tend to look.

Jade: Oh my, for you to say we resemble the great Sea Witch's subordinates like that… Fufufu, I am honored.

Riddle: That wasn't a compliment. However, it's true that their numerous benevolent acts have been passed down through history.

Riddle: I'm sure I'm only mistakenly seeing them as sinister, but in reality, they are kind moray eels, just as you say.

Jade: Indeed. I'm elated that not only are the tales of the Sea Witch widely known on land, but also that of her eels.

Jade: Back home, there is a very popular folktale in which those moray eels present a challenge to a mermaid who had fallen in love with someone of a different species.

Riddle: Oh that's… Are you talking about the mermaid who made a contract with the Sea Witch in order to be with the human she had fallen in love with?

Jade: That's right. The incident where they flipped the boat that the mermaid and her beloved were sitting in in order to test their love is a particularly popular tale…

Jade: It is said that their bond was strengthened thanks to the quick thinking of those moray eels.

Riddle: If I recall correctly, that mermaid's contract with the Sea Witch was conditioned on blossoming that love from her own efforts…

Jade: That is true. And yet, they continued to monitor her after she made the contract, and even provide generous support… They truly are most benevolent.

Jade: Now, speaking of boats…

Jade: Do you know of a strangely shaped boat, one that is completely different than the small rowing boat in this tale?

Riddle: Strangely shaped?

Jade: Indeed. For example… Think of a boat shaped like a bird that is rowed by pedaling your feet.

Riddle: Ah, you mean the swan boats.

Jade: Yes, that's it. Whenever I would poke my head out of the ocean, I would see many boats that were rowed with oars, and yet…

Jade: I had never seen one quite shaped like that, ever. I was quite shocked the first time I came across one. It is rather unique.

Riddle: If you like unusual boats like that, the Queendom of Roses have some in the shape of flamingos.

Jade: Is that so? I would like to ride one of those one day, as well.

Riddle: …As well? Are you saying that you've ridden on one of those swan boats with Azul, or Floyd…?

Jade: No, I rode alone.

Riddle: EH, YOU RODE ONE OF THOSE BOATS ALONE!?

Jade: Yes. It was too narrow for my legs to sit comfortably on one side, so I had to pedal the boat with one foot on what would normally be each person's pedal.

Jade: That was truly a fickle vehicle to maneuver. I had enough trouble trying to steer in the direction I wanted…

Jade: While I was riding it, that aforementioned anecdote of the boat and the moray eels came to mind.

Jade: I thought to myself… If somehow there was some creature bent on capsizing this boat, it could be quite the ordeal.

Jade: Have you ever ridden a swan boat, Riddle-san?

Riddle: No, can't say I have…

Jade: Well, that is a pity. It is very enjoyable, so I fully encourage you to experience it. We can ride together sometime.

Riddle: How could you possibly believe that I'd agree to do so after all we talked about just now…? I'm pretty sure it wouldn't be some other creature capsizing us, it would be you.

Jade: I would never. And even if we were to encounter trouble and capsize, it would be quite easy for me to swim us to shore. Fufu… Does that not help you feel safer?

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Jade: This is a painting depicting the myth of the child of a god who aspired to be a hero alongside his friends.

Jade: It is said that he trained his mind and body in order to become a hero. Perhaps this specifically depicts a scene from one of his training sessions.

Riddle: It seems so. From the look on his face, his training must have been going well.

Jade: I remember back while I was learning self-defense, I was also just as elated as he was in his painting whenever I perfectly executed a specific technique.

Riddle: Oh, so you know self-defense.

Jade: That's right. My father taught me.

Jade: He also taught me how to free myself if tied up and pick locks if I am locked up.

Riddle: EH!? Why would your father teach a child such things…?

Jade: Simply put, my parents are overcautious. After all, they do say "providing is preventing," right?

Jade: In fact, it is because of my self-defense training, that I've been able to avoid many an incident.

Riddle: Incidents in which your self-defense training was useful? That seems somewhat disturbing.

Jade: I wouldn't say that… Back in the ocean, there were a few sharks that had refused to honor their promises.

Jade: As I was entreating them to fulfill their duty, they all decided to bilk their promise altogether.

Riddle: That is absolutely unacceptable. If they have broken their promises, they should pay the price.

Jade: Yes, I thought the exact same. THAT IS WHY I USED MY SELF-DEFENSE SKILLS AND TURNED THE TABLES ON THEM.

Jade: Even though it was the result of their own actions, I couldn't help but feel some semblance of pity for them as they screamed every time I twisted their fins.

Riddle: I'm having a hard time believing this… I fully assumed that that kind of dangerous task would be more Floyd's specialty.

Jade: That was just an unusual case. I am usually reluctant to resort to such tactics.

Jade: When resolving issues, it is best to come to an amicable conclusion via communication, not fists.

Jade: However, that does not mean that there will never be a time in which those self-defense techniques will need to be used on the surface.

Jade: Here on land, it would be impossible to use any technique that requires the use of my tailfin. My human body still lacks the right experience.

Jade: I am hoping to strengthen my skills in order to be as proficient in my self-defense techniques on land in this body as I am in the ocean.

[Land of Dawning – National Museum of Art]

Riddle: This is a painting of the Fairest Queen of All. In the background, we can see her peacock feathered throne.

Jade: Indeed. It looks as if the Queen is majestically spreading her own wings… What spectacular composition.

Jade: Moreover, that box she is holding up so delicately…  It draws my eyes with how vividly crimson it is.

Riddle: Seeing that it has a lock on it, it may be her treasure box.

Jade: A treasure box, hm. I remember I used to stuff as much as I could in a big, beautiful box of my own when I was younger.

Jade: At one point, I had collected so many various accessories that humans had dropped into the ocean, that I wasn't even able to close the lid.

Jade: I would take strolls every day just to search for possible trinkets, at times going to places so far out a round trip would take me a whole day.

Jade: Once in a while, if I came across any coins, I would give them to Azul… Fufu, that brings back memories.

Riddle: When you say accessories, you mean rings, or necklaces, yes? I'm surprised that you were interested in such jewelry.

Jade: I suppose so. I don't often choose to wear accessories as much anymore.

Jade: Although, I do recall collecting a few hundred pieces…

Riddle: A few hundred!? If you had collected that much, then I'm sure there would be some that still suit your tastes now…

Jade: Perhaps. However, I have since disposed of all those accessories I collected back then.

Riddle: Disposed all of them…? Even though you had so fervently collected them?

Jade: Correct. Keeping things that no longer interest you is simply a waste of space, wouldn't you say?

Jade: Ah yes, actually, there was something that caught my attention when I came to the surface, as well.

Jade: It is nothing unusual, and in fact can be found pretty much anywhere on land…

Jade: Once I took note of them, I could really feel the intention behind those that made them, as well as their various designs. It is profoundly fascinating.

Riddle: Hmmm, nothing comes to mind. What is it that caught your attention that much?

Jade: Fufu, well, that would be… manhole lids.

Riddle: Huh, manhole lids!?

Jade: Some lids are designed to show off local specialties or attractions.

Jade: Of course, there are no manholes in the ocean. So my interest was piqued as I was searching up on what use they could possibly serve…

Jade: For a little while, I did find myself collecting a few hundred various merchandise of manhole lids with unusual designs, as well.

Riddle: So, regardless of whether it's accessories, or manholes… I see you get truly invested when you decide you like something.

Jade: Indeed. Once I've taken a liking to something, I seem to be the type that becomes completely absorbed by it.

Jade: However, I will say that those investments don't last too long.

Jade: In fact, my fixation has shifted from manhole lids to mountains already.

Riddle: It's good to find something to be invested in, but remember that a student's duty is his studies. Regulate your time with your hobbies so as to not neglect that.

Riddle: Well then, I will be heading to view paintings of the Queen of Hearts, so, farewell.

Jade: Right, see you later. …Well, now that Riddle-san has left me, I wonder what painting I should look at now… Hm?

Jade: Is this a painting of a shrimp…? No, a crab. How wonderful, he looks so terribly elated.

Jade: It's usually these sorts of folk who would be in need of reprimand for not paying the price after signing their contracts. Fufu…

[cookierunauprompts]

Can you please do a continuation of req 8 (the masquerade ball on) pleas I really loved it

absolutely, that's one of my favorite reqs that i've ever written. you do not understand how much i love masquerades hehehe

Requested Prompts #40 - 💓

You steadily picked yourself up from the ground, what had happened? The last thing you remember you were at the ball and then... nothing. You couldn't even remember who you were dancing with, if you were even dancing at all. You take a look around, taking in your surroundings... or rather, the lack thereof. You were surrounded by an inky black abyss that stained your vision black yet still allowed you to see, you could tell that it did that because you could see yourself almost perfectly. " Hello?" You call into the abyss, not expecting an answer even though that's what you want. " Is anyone there?" There was a pause, an almost infinitely long pause. For a moment you worried that you were stuck here, in the void, alone. You'd surely go insane if that were the case, but luckily( or perhaps, unluckily depending on how you view it) that wasn't the case. The ground trembled, and you stumbled back just in time to see a quite frankly way too large eye open up where you had been standing. It glowed a bright blue, reminding you of something you just couldn't put your finger on. And slowly but surely, it rotated to look at you. More eyes popped up, each staring at you when they opened. You receded into yourself, backing away even though it seemed that no matter how far you went they always seemed to get closer. You trip over your own feet and soon find yourself falling backwards, with fear clutching you for a mere moment before you are caught. " Now now, Little Star, we can't have you falling over now, can we?" A voice tutted with a chuckle, a rather familiar voice actually... You looked around for the source of the voice, and for who caught you, but you couldn't find anything other than the fact you were caught by a large, shadowy hand. You squeaked with surprise as you saw it's fingers curl around your form. " Y-you... Just who are you?" You called out into the darkness, your response beginning with a maniacal laugh. " Oh what a shame it is that you don't even recognize me... I'm rather hurt, Little Star." The voice cooed, and that's when it hit you. This voice belongs to that cookie at the masquerade ball... and the one that appeared in your dreams, the one you made that deal with... Oh sweet witches, just what did you get yourself into? " Show yourself!" You commanded, yet you were unable to hide the treble of fear that wormed its way into your tone. " Ehehe... Eheheha... Ehe he ha ha hah!" The voice cackled, you could feel the two largest eyes, the ones that looked like they actually belonged to a face, peering down at you. " Oho? So the princess wants me to reveal myself? I might as well indulge the wishes of her highness then~!" The voice chirped.

You stared on in a mixture of fear and awe as the Shadows receded to reveal the large figure of the cookie before you, bearing the same silhouette as the jester that appeared in your dream, only colored in. His heterochromatic blue eyes stared down at you as a grin stretched to be far too wide across his face. " Why hello there little princess! I'm so terribly sorry to have kept you waiting, but now we can finally meet face to face! Or well, face to real face." The jester chuckled, you couldn't help but feel like you've heard about this... well, this jester before. The cogs in your brain turn and turn, where have you heard about a Jester who could manipulate the Shadows to do his bidding? Ah, that's right, from your father. This was one of the five beasts, the fallen heroes. Shadow Milk Cookie. You fucked up big time just by making a deal with him in the first place, and you could tell that he could tell based just on your expression that you'd come to this realization. " Aw, there's no need to look so concerned! I do intend to keep my end of our little deal." You leaned away from him. " Considering your track record for deceiving cookies... I doubt it." You say, glancing up at him suspiciously. The gargantuan jester sighed dramatically. " You really don't remember out contract, do you?" He asked, to which you responded to with a shake of your head. " Fine, fine, I'll explain it again from the top." Shadow Milk Cookie cleared his throat, beginning to speak. " The very notion of our deal was that you would give me what you desired most in exchange for what you valued most, yes? What you wanted the most was freedom... Yet 'Freedom' is also what you value the most. So you put me into a bit of a conundrum as to how to collect what you valued while also giving you the freedom you ever so desperately desired." You gulped, you had a rather concerning feeling about this. You felt like you had acted selfishly in the past, far too selfish. " So then I had a thought!" The jester chirped, not helping the sinking feeling in your gut in the slightest. " What if I exchanged the freedom of your kingdom in exchange for yours? It was a truly marvelous idea if I do say so myself!" And there it was.

[aftgficrec]

ah I'm so excited you're open!!! thank you for the ridiculous amount of work you all do 🙏ok, this might be too specific but any fics with an alternate take on Andrew and Neil's post-trk reunion? Andrew gets out of easthaven early, Neil leaves the Nest later, AU's, etc.? i think it's a really interesting point in their dynamic, and I'm a sucker for sober Andrew realizing someone was watching his back for once

Feeling a bit like a Bernie Sanders’ meme – ‘I am once again asking myself why I spent so much time on an ask,’ 😅 but it's because this is such an iconic and beloved scene for our fandom. For a super fun ‘live’ first-time reader reaction to this high drama, check out ‘The King’s Men, Chapter 1 – Hello Foxhole, My Old Friend’ by @nickireadstfc here. -A

also see

Andrew's POV of throwing keys off roof here

‘Come and Save Me From It’ here (completed)

‘Learning To Feel (When You've Forgotten How)’ and the fandom meta posts here

‘pipedream’ here

‘reaching for the heights’ here

‘Lost boy’ and ‘[Un]broken’ here

‘I Know You From A Nightmare,’ ‘The Marks We Make,’ and ‘Draw Me Out, Mark Me In’ here

‘Marked’ and ‘Soulmates who can feel each other’s pain’ here

‘Of Stars and Stories’ here

‘What’s normal now?’ here

long previous recs with reunion mention

‘No More Fucks To Give’ here (updated)

‘The Sphynx and the Hare’ here (completed)

‘corvus, vulpes, lupus’ here

‘never fallen (from quite this high)’ here

‘Not a Pipe Dream’ here

‘everything and nothing begins with you’ here

Andrew gets sober, Neil stays at Evermore

‘Oh Raven,’ ‘Jailbird,’ and ‘Take to the Wing’ here

‘Scared to Live (But I'm Scared to Die)’ here 

 ‘Comeback’ here

you may also like

Christmas at Evermore here plus song rec ‘Far From Home (The Raven)’ here

Proust here plus ‘if you really love nothing’ here

Neil’s a hallucination here

Andreil meet in Easthaven here

‘just a slow body’ here

‘Will you be there when I come back?’ here

‘Here With You’ here (complete)

‘i'm here right now (just be here right now with me)’ here 

‘We're All Stories In The End’ here

‘Spirits In My Head’ here 

‘Fold me in your palms’ here

‘The Raven Prince’ here

‘Thanks, Matty’ here

‘Lullaby’ here

Random Rec - Andrew Minyard playlists round up here

Just a Pipe Dream by loveroulettes [Rated T, 2781 Words, Complete, AFTG Exchange Summer 2021, Locked]

Andrew thought coming off drugs will get rid of all side-effects, so why is Neil still here? AKA the scene where Neil picks up the cigarette from the ground and smokes it, but from Andrew’s POV

tw: implied/referenced abuse

reckless/i like it by Willow_bird [Rated M, 27259 Words, Complete, AFTG Mixtape Exchange 2022]

One thing didn’t seem to have changed since getting off the drugs. One thing almost seemed to have gotten worse. ”The next time someone comes for you, stand down and let me deal with it. Do you understand?” “If it means losing you, then no.” --- 5 times Andrew realized this something he had for Neil was, well, treacherous + 1 time he admitted (at least to himself) that he liked it

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: kidnapping, tw: choking, tw: implied/referenced torture

In the rain by Lyndis [Rated G, 1147 Words, Complete, 2021]

Part 2 of Quick and Dirty, parts 3 and 15 here

Andrew is off his drugs for the first time in years. No one knows he is back from Easthaven and he just wants to see Neil.

Time Machine by Marquee [Rated G, 137 Words, Complete, 2023]

Part 4 of Aftg Poetry

Andrew wanting to kiss Neil on the roof, but he isn’t sure he should. But like a poem?? Yeah.

Tumblr Prompts by lipsstainedbloodred [Not Rated, Collection, 2018] 

Chapter 13: Page 12: What if Neil didn’t go with the monsters to pick up Andrew from Easthaven (Andreil) [T, 2434 Words] 

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced sexual assault

his solace by orphan_account [Rated M, 2292 Words, Complete, 2016]

Andrew’s first thought of Neil Josten was ‘fake’. He was a boy who was clearly lying, clearly pretending to be something he wasn’t; or at least, something he didn’t want to be. Andrew’s next thought of Neil Josten was ‘dangerous’. He was too attractive for Andrew to ignore, whilst single-handedly being the biggest flight risk he’d ever met. Neil looked for exits everywhere he went, and Andrew hated him for it.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: violence

Silent Words by Jeni182 [Rated M, Collection, Complete, 2018]

Chapter 2: Colors [T] Andrew hates color. It’s part of the reason why he’s always in black. It’s just easier. The color doesn’t make his eyes hurt. He doesn’t have to think about shit matching. It deters people, a lot of times.

When You Were Young by SpookyMiscreant [Rated T, 1831 Words, Complete, 2017]

It starts when the monsters pick up Andrew from Easthaven. Andrew sits on the roof of Fox Tower and contemplates Neil Josten now that he's sober. Set to the background music of When You Were Young by The Killers.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied referenced child abuse and neglect

this hole you put in me (wasn't deep enough) by gaygoyle [Rated T, 3368 Words, Complete, 2023]

Neil blames himself for not doing more for Andrew while he's at Easthaven. So, Neil returns the one thing he knows even with his ban- Exy.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

Shades of Sunset by darkbluebox [Rated T, 1885 Words, Complete, 2020]

Andrew is five years old, and he thinks orange is the most beautiful colour in the world. Twenty years in the life of Andrew Minyard.

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: implied/referenced csa

Tell Me How You Hate Me by Killingmeslowly_24 [Rated T, 30532 Words, Incomplete, Updated June 2023]

Next to Kevin sat a man who was roughly Neil-shaped, but that was where the similarities ended. Because Neil was brown hair, wide eyes, and a skittish demeanor. Neil was hidden smiles and questions and questions, so many goddamn questions, and- No. This wasn’t Neil. This man was a collage of bandages and bruises, hair bathed in flame. This man was a slack jaw and blue eyes, blue like ice, like an ocean, like drowning, too much like freedom for Andrew’s comfort. ... Or, The King's Men from Andrew's POV

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: violence, tw: dissociation, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: depression, tw: blood, tw: panic attacks

Bury it deep down, keep it under your skin by All_for_the_andreil [Rated T, 2123 Words, Complete, 2023]

He only wants to jump off the roof half the time. He supposes that’s progress too. The other half he’s only thinking about it in theory. How many bones would he break? Would he die on impact, like his mother did, or would it take some time? Would he feel the pain, or would it be just pure shock? Would he laugh as he fell? -or- Andrew's life told in snippets

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: suicidal thoughts, tw: canonical character death

Promptober 2023 by djinthehouse [Rated T, Collection, Updated Oct 2023]

Chapter 2: Falling into his reverse based on the song, The drug in me is you, by Falling in reverse

tw: referenced drug overdose, tw: canonical character death, tw: implied/referenced drug addiction, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: psychological abuse, tw: gun violence, tw: murder

Chapter 4: Weak for the Boy This is based of the song, Weak by AJR it is kind of the opposite of Falling into his Reverse. 

tw: referenced nonconsensual drug use, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: blood, tw: psychological abuse

drop the game by Joana789 [Rated T, 1647 Words, Complete, 2017]

Then, the pills are gone. The buzzing in his veins is gone. The too-bright colors of the world are gone, everything back to its overwhelming dullness again. Neil Josten is, startlingly, still there.

tw: implied/referenced torture

but i’ll know, i’ll know by neilpipedreamjosten10 [Rated T, 2709 Words, Incomplete, Updated Nov 2023]

After Andrew comes back from Easthaven, Neil is missing, and Andrew is the only one who remembers who he is. But Neil never left Edgar Allen. *** This takes place during TKM, a what-if? fic where Andrew returns and finds that Neil was like a figment of his imagination, but now he has to save the runaway.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: referenced overdose, tw: referenced suicide, tw: nonconsensual drug use, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: torture

Lost (I Don’t Want To Be) by Demiwitchwoodwalker [Rated T, 4564 Words, Complete, 2022]

Part 1 of Someone(s) To Stay 

Kevin didn't respond, couldn't, and he suspected Riko knew that as his next words oozed with some sort of satisfaction. "I thought I'd give you a bit of a heads up, as a… let's say Christmas present. Your precious Nathaniel's getting inked. It's a shame Jean already got three, it would've suited the little Wesninski."

tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: panic attacks

NB: kandrew/developing kandreil

meta

*tw: may include references to Andrew’s canon trauma and suicidal thoughts

Andrew's time at Easthaven meta by series author @korakos [Tumblr, 2015]

Neil didn’t make Andrew want to live. He gave Andrew a reason to give into that want. meta by @haletostilinski [Tumblr, 2016]

The Extraordinary Strength of Andrew Minyard meta by @imaginedmelody [Tumblr, 2016]

the drugs went away and neil was still the same meta by @miniyrds [Tumblr 2016]

after they pick Andrew up at Easthaven meta by @evil-diabolical-oops [Tumblr, 2016]

andrew hates neil meta by @kickfoxing [Tumblr, 2017]

can you imagine Andrew coming back from reliving weeks of abuse… meta by @boris-pavlikcvsky [Tumblr 2017]

Midnight Thoughts about Andreil meta by @saltierthanbottomofapretzelbag [Tumblr, 2018]

Was "If it means losing you, then no" the final nail in the coffin? meta by @blogaboutyafavbirdboys [Tumblr, 2019]

meta about andrew and caring and wanting things by @sinistercacophony [Tumblr, 2020]

thoughts/feelings/deeper meaning of the (rooftop keys/cigarette) scene? meta by @bloody-wonder [Tumblr, 2020]

andrew thinking that neil was just a side-effect of the drugs meta by @twirlingflurry, @buriedinbaltimore [Tumblr 2021]

how utterly, heartbreakingly sad it is that Andrew calls Neil a pipe dream meta by @fortheloveofexy [Tumblr, 2022]

“You were supposed to be a side-effect of the drugs” meta by @sepulchralblues [Tumblr, 2023]

he cannot be real, he has to be a hallucination meta by @neveranniething [Tumblr, 2023]

neil just gives andrew his bands and knives meta by @grooviestguru [Tumblr, 2023]

you may also like

in the dream I don't tell anyone (you put your head in my lap) by Fortheloveofexy [Rated T, 1850 Words, Complete, 2022, Locked]

The real Neil would never allow this, would not let himself be this vulnerable. The real Neil can barely stand to be around him. Andrew knows this. But Dream Neil? Dream Neil is a different story.

Will you be there when I come back? by Shamman [Not Rated, 299 Words, Complete, 2017]

Andrew is trapped in Easthaven with an eidetic memory and tries to focus his thoughts on the confusing image of Neil Josten's face. -Because however terrible it may look, Andrew's current circumstances are much less pleasant. Furthermore Bee has been making him sing and play the guitar in a very therapeutic attempt to make him express some sort of actual emotion over the past year.

tw: violent imagery

You Gave Me A Key And Called It Home by glintchi [Rated T, Collection, Complete, 2019]

Chapter 19: Yes, I Admit It, You Were Right [460 Words] Renee was waiting for him in the basement, fingers already taped, hair pulled back into a tuft of a rainbow ponytail.

Foxhole Tidbits by SpangleBangle [Collection Rated T/M, Updated  2018] 

Chapter 14: My Friend, O My Friend [M, 953 Words]  Prompt for Renee's reaction after Drake/Easthaven and Andrew's return.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: canonical character death

Did You Miss Me? by Deathandcommas [Rated G, 555 Words, Complete, 2023, Locked]

Aaron and Andrew have a late night chat after Andrew gets back from Easthaven.

tfw spoons by StrawBerryRains [Rated G, 216 Words, Complete, 2021]

Nicky offers Andrew ice cream when they arrive home from Easthaven.

A Taste of Your Own Medicine by caffeine_withdrawl [Rated M, 66454 Words, Incomplete, Updated March 2023]

Set after the infamous Thanksgiving, but then diverges from canon. Andrew and Bee decide it’s time for Andrew to come off the drugs, but works some magic so that he is allowed to do it in Columbia. Neil is tasked with helping him through it. They decide to do it the same way Andrew helped Aaron sober up, by locking him in a bathroom. Andrew doesn't react well, and switches between rage and panic. Andrew wonders if Neil is real or if he made him up because of the drugs.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: body horror, tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced csa, tw: flashbacks, tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: drug addiction, tw: withdrawal, tw: vomit, tw: implied/referenced self harm, tw: ptsd, tw: emotional abuse, tw: hallucinations

making it harder to breathe by Azure_Allumiia [Rated T, 1643 Words, Complete, 2021]

Christmas Break with the Foxes, featuring Andrew at Easthaven and Neil in Evermore. Foxes celebrate New Years in NYC with the ball drop.

tw: graphic depictions of violence, tw: rape/noncon, tw: medical abuse, tw: torture, tw: blood

Dead Birds by Noah98 [Rated G, 1601 Words, Complete, 2021, Locked]

Neil just got back from Evermore and Andrew has returned from Easthaven. Riko calls. He wants a rematch and oh boy does he get it.

tw: violence, tw: blood/gore

Art

NB: just a sampling of art for this scene

“Feel Again” original song by @whatbutandreil [Tumblr, 2020]

Picking up Andrew from Easthaven part 1, part 2 comic by @coldcigarettes

andreil keys off the roof scene: animation by @hahanken | comic by @rainbowd00dles | comic by @lunapiq | art by @esklinray

I hate you comic by @thematicallycoherent

I’m not a hallucination art by @clumsyartish

Stick around long enough to figure it out for yourself. edit by @m1nyards

You are a pipe dream art by @viennemort

“you spend all this time watching our backs” edit by @matthcwboyd

not a hallucination a pipe dream art by @kryptidfox

“you were supposed to be a side effect of the drugs.” art by @planetmontressor

"Go inside and leave me alone." art by @dimsunstuff

“No, you’re a pipe dream.” art by @starkingdraws

[bookloover35]

Sweeney Todd x fem reader-I fell in love with the Devil.

Yns POV.

The devil when I say that I have fallen for the devil then I mean it.  And the devil's name is Sweeney Todd I fell in love as soon as he set foot in my mom's pie shop.  I do not know why I fell for him and I know I should not fall for him.  Mom and I both discovered that he was the old barber who both in the old apartment where we now live.  Benjamin Barker he told us about what happened and my mother told the tragic event about his wife and that Judge Turpin has his daughter.

He was completely overwhelmed and I did my best to help him feel better, and then I discovered that he was very nice.  He is amazingly the very first who has ever been kind to me.  Yes my mother is kind but not all the time she blames me that it is my fault that my father died.  And my mother knew about my feelings for Mr T, but I have no idea how she found out.  And she did not like that I have feelings for him because she also had feelings for him.  She always told me.  (You should let him be Yn he is mine), or (do you really think he can love someone like you.) What does she mean by her he is not an object he is a human being.  My mother's words did not scare me I just fell for him more and more.  But one thing really scared me and that was what I saw a while ago.

( A While Ago).

Mrs Lovett: Yn go up with this cup of Tea for Mr T. I would do it myself but I have so much to do here in the store.  But remember, just give him tea no more.  He is mine.

I said okay to my mother and took the cup with Tea which was in her hand and walked out the door.  When I was out I started going up the stairs to his barber shop.  When I was halfway up the stairs, I heard something strange from his shop.  I started walking faster up the stairs with the thought that Mr T might have cut himself when he sharpened his razors.  When I was up, I slammed the door and saw something that would scar me for life.

There stood Mr T and had just cut off the throt of his customer.  Why I dropped the cup for fear I could hear them crushed below for my feet.  Then I saw that Mr T was looking at me he had not seen me before he had heard the cup crushed.

Sweeney Todd: YN!!!!!!

Yn: Wh_ What have you done.

Blood blood all over him and on the floor, I looked at the dead man and then at him.  He started walking towards me.

Yn: No stay away from me.

I quickly turned around and started running down the stairs I could hear Mr T shouting my name but I just kept running.  I refused to stop think if I did not have time to be fast enough think if he got hold of me he would kill me too.  I ran into the store completely exhausted and sat down in one of the chairs.  My mother looked at me as if I had seen a ghost.  I wish I had seen a ghost instead of that.

Mrs Lovett:What's with you?  you look like you've seen a ghost.  It went well to give Mr T his tea.

Before I could say anything, Mr T came into the store.  I felt my heart literally settle in my throat he looked at me and smiled then he looked at my mother and stopped smiling but my mother smiled big at him and said.

Mrs Lovett: Ah Mr T Did you get Teat off Yn?

Sweeney Todd:Yes, I got it, thank you so much Yn for coming up with it for me.

He looked at me while his told my mother I smiled back at him so my mother would not suspect anything.Even though what I saw really scared me and that he scared me, I could not help but blush.  I have fallen for the devil, and why did he lie that I had given him the Tea.  I dropped the cup and why had my mother not heard it, she must have been in the basement.

Yn: Your welcome

He smiled back at me again and I smiled back oh he must be so heavenly beautiful.  Stop Yn you just saw him MURDER a man.  Our eyes were interrupted by my mother saying my name.

Mrs Lovett: Yn Sweetheart can you go and buy us a bottle of Tonic?

Yn: What um yes I can do that I thought of actually walking past the library.

Mrs Lovett: Okay how good I'm just going to get my wallet.

She started walking towards her room and left me and Mr T themselves in the store I did not want to be alone with him.  I turned to him and saw that he was already looking at me and started walking towards me.  I quickly got up from the chair and started to back away from him I should have looked behind me because then I might have had time to discover that I have a wall behind me.  I closed my eyes and waited for death to come.  But instead I felt one hand on my waist and the other on my cheek and I opened my eyes.  Mr T looked at me with a loving look and sad, not angry or murderous.

Sweeney Todd: You do not have to be afraid of me my angel.  I could NEVER hurt you.

I was about to answer him but he leaned forward and kissed me then he whispered to me.

Sweeney Todd: We can talk later tonight.

He said to me and kissed me again and I do not know what flew inside me but I kissed him back and I felt how he removed his hand from my cheek and took both his hands and put them on my ass and squeezed and I opened  my mouth in shock and then he took the chance and stuck his tongue in my mouth.  Our tongues started fighting with each other and I felt how he squeezed my ass again, then he did something I was not prepared for I moaned into the kiss.  He smiled into the kiss that devil.

He quickly withdrew when we heard my mother.  What happened right now I really do not hope she saw that, I felt a strange feeling between my legs.  My mother came into the store and gave me the purse and told me not to come home late.  I promised I would not be away for too long and then I said goodbye to them both and when I walked a bit I saw that Mr T looked at me through the window and waved to me I waved back then I continued to walk.  What am I doing?

The end.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Rainy Days | Jeon Jungkook

Based off of Rainy Days by V (obvi lol) Summary: Rainy days I'm thinkin' 'bout you Pairing: f!reader x Jeon Jungkook Word Count: 1.5k~ a/n: This is my second time posting this because it didn't do too well the first time and I was really proud of it so I wanted to give it another shot. Hopefully some of you might give it a chance? Thank you for all of the new readers and thanks especially to the people who joined my Taglist!

Waking up to an empty bed again I'm hit with my new reality. You're gone, and nothing I could've said or done would've changed your mind. Checking my phone I've noticed that I'm always waiting for your call. One that might tell me that you changed your mind, that you're coming home.

One where you ask me to open the door, telling me you want to start over, but it never comes. It's been like this for weeks and yet I'm still reminded of your presence every damn day. Seeing memories of you in every inch of what used to be our home, now feeling incomplete with only myself to reside. 

Walking into the kitchen, I'm flooded with the countless time I would find you there, bathed in sunlight dressed in one of my shirts and making us breakfast early in the morning. I would hold your waist from behind, receiving a scolding every time for scaring you. Going to rest and unwind I'm reminded of our nights together, feeling content because after a long and hard day just the thought of holding you close and hearing you laugh was one of the many things about you that would keep me going.

In my art studio, where you would sit as my model and let me keep you as my muse, tracing your every curve and keeping my eyes trained on you to memorize your soft features. On occasion you would find me in there painting something more abstract and that was something that made you laugh the most, saying how silly they looked. I would make them time and time again just to hear you laugh like that everyday.  

No matter where I look you're always there, haunting my every thought. What I would give to go back to one of those moments again. To just be in your presence and feel your touch, with your lips on mine and hear you call out my name. Just one more time, one more time to prove myself to you.

But it would never work, no matter how many times I would ask you to come back so we could talk things out you would simply tell me that you don't love me anymore, that you've fallen out of love with me. That's the only excuse you've given me, nothing more, and nothing less. Telling me I did nothing wrong, that I'm still the same man you fell in love with, but that our life together just wasn't enough for you anymore. 

I hear a notification come in and see that it's a text from a friend asking if I'll go out for drinks with him but I decline, knowing that it won't do me any good. No matter how many times he's offered, telling me it'll be good to get out and meet new people I always end up saying no. I've come to the conclusion that love just isn't for me, if it's not with you then it doesn't matter. Starting over with someone just seems pointless, spending years with someone, thinking they're the one to just be told that you're not enough. No, that's not something I want to happen to me again. 

My attention is brought to the world outside my window, hearing the sounds of rain pitter pattering on the roof above me. Rainy days used to be our favorite, when we had no where to go and we could just stay inside all day. We would always crack a window just so we could hear the rain fall and the thunder rumble. Although you would tell me you weren't afraid, I would still catch you cuddling in closer when the thunder would sound and the lightning would light up the sky.

I thought we had gotten closer lately, that we began to understand each other better. But the day you told me it was over was the day that I realized that it was only me opening up to you, and you just pretended to listen. Thinking back I started to notice your blank stares more, how you would shut down telling me that you were too tired to talk today. Some days it felt like I was living with a stranger the way that you would move around the place avoiding me at every chance you got.

You started spending more time with your new friends and would text me saying that you were coming home late and not to wait up. By the time you would come back I would feel the bed dip alerting me of your arrival but you wouldn't bother to touch me, or even let me know that you got home safe. The next morning I would hear you close the door and receive a text letting me know that you got called into work early and would make excuses that you were putting in some extra work so you could show that you deserved a promotion and that things would go back to normal once you got it. 

Yet even when you had gotten it you became more and more distant, saying that there were a lot more responsibilities involved than you had anticipated. But when I would check your social media after you had cancelled another one of our dates I would see how you had spent your night partying and drinking. When I would confront you about it you would tell me that it was work related and that you were required to attend.

Many of those confrontations had ended in fights that would tear us further and further apart. I had decided to give you your space after that and when you would finally talk to me again it felt like you were only doing it because you felt guilty. I would get hopeful, thinking that things had gone back to normal and we could make up for all the time we lost but you would fall back into those habits again once you realized that spending time with me had become pointless. 

Towards the end of our relationship you had told me that you were going on a business trip and would be gone for several days. I had sent you off hoping that you would come back and that some time apart might be good for us. On the day that you were supposed to come back I didn't hear a peep from you. I decided that I should check in with you the morning after to just see if you might've gotten in late or if your flight home had gotten delayed and I wouldn't want to add to your stress if that had been the case.

When I had woken up I decided to give you until at least midday until I reached out and when I did, you answered and told me that you weren't coming home. When I had asked why you just said there was nothing left for you there. I had later found out that you had fallen for someone else and you had gone to meet them on your supposed business trip. You told me I didn't need to worry about sending you anything because you already had everything that you needed and to just throw away the rest.

Doing that was one of the harder parts of this breakup. Seeing all the things I had bought you and the clothes you had worn over the years that still held your familiar sent broke me. I had to have that same friend that invited me out come help me clear your stuff out because I couldn't bring myself to do it alone. I kept a few things that I couldn't bare to get rid of, "You sure you want to keep that? I know how much that meant to her, it'll just serve as another reminder of what happened" I nodded my head and set it to the side as well as a few other things before he took a couple of boxes out that held the life we shared together. 

Weeks after the breakup I still lived in denial, thinking this was all just a dream, that I would open my eyes and we would still be together. But as the days went by I would wake up time and time again to an empty bed. Reaching my arm out beside me and expecting to feel your warmth were the days that hurt the most. Thinking you would be here in my arms again and that things haven't changed. Then it would all come back and I would feel wide awake when that same reality hit me once more.

The way I'm living isn't healthy and I know that, but I can't seem to drag myself out of this endless loop I've trapped myself in. I'm not sure which one would hurt more, living with the ghost of you or living trying to forget you. That's something I don't think I could bare to find out yet, so I'll just spend those rainy days thinking about you.

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[elliespuns]

What is your perspective on tlou2 being inspired by the Israel-Palestine conflict? It didn't register with me at first but I've gotten too attached to the characters by the time that I discovered it and it is genuinely disappointing HOWEVER I have separated their narratives from the political dimension of the game by just focusing solely on the individual emotional journeys that each of the characters go through and I never really bought the games myself first hand except get them second hand but is it still wrong to adore the characters?

Not happy about it. I mean, who would be?

I wasn't aware of it at first either; it just didn't click, and then I started seeing the rumors, and well, it all made sense. I am disappointed. Not at all for Neil Druckmann, though. I don't really care about him (except for his amazing mind, where he created Ellie and Joel, the only fictional characters that I've got to love so much). What I am disappointed in more is that almost everyone thinks that once you continue to love this game, you support the evil too. Which is not how I feel about it.

But then again, does even my opinion matter? I've already got a lot of anon messages throwing hate on me for managing a blog about TLOU and supporting the evil. And I sit here and wonder... where did I ever say that I supported the bad side of the conflict? I don't think I ever did. Why? Because I don't talk about politics on this blog. This blog has been made to share love with all TLOU lovers, not to support Neil Druckmann or anyone else's political views or to even share about politics in general.

People are quick to judge. They go and preach to stand with Palestine and then go hate on the people who chose to stay quiet. People should realize that individuals managing fandom blogs and not sharing politics doesn't automatically mean that they support the evil. We (bloggers) have our own personal lives out of our blogs and our own personal accounts. Many of us are posting about the conflict on our personal social media. People should think about this before making bloggers feel like shit for managing silly blogs where they don't want to discuss what can be discussed elsewhere.

I have a deep bond with this game; I had it a long time ago before any of this was happening (everyone knows I will always prefer the first game over the second). This is not something I can just throw away. I have memories connected to it, feelings, emotions... it's not like I can tell myself 'fuck the game' now just because of the news I got. I guess it's easy for others when the bond is not so strong, but this game has been in a better part of my life for so long, and believe it or not... when I think about how Ellie and Joel make me happy, I don't have fucking Druckmann in mind or any of his political views.

I will never mix my admiration for this project with politics. Me not agreeing with Neil Druckmann's political views won't change the fact that I've already fallen in love with this game years ago. I am not loving Druckmann; I am loving something he once created. That is a big difference. Especially if you've already loved the game before the conflict.

I say, unless you're actively supporting the propaganda and throwing your money at it, you are not hurting anybody. You, being emotionally connected to the story of this propaganda's project or its characters won't really change a thing. Not for good, yes, but not for bad either.

Anyway, this is my opinion. I think people should stop judging those who are not sharing politics on their fandom blogs because they never know what these people share on their personal accounts. We are here to enjoy things that are free; love and joy for fictional characters we've adored for too long.

Sorry, I got a bit carried away. This is probably the only post about politics I'll share, so this needed to be said.

Anyway, you don't need to feel bad for loving the characters. You are not doing anything wrong. I think every one of us who still loves TLOU to this day is able to detach from the fact of who's behind the games. We're here for Ellie and Joel. They don't care about Druckmann either.elliespuns answers

[sissylittlefeather]

Anybody else love Tulsa McLean?

Home Sweet Oklahoma

A/N: This is a one-shot featuring one of my favorite Elvis movie characters from his 1960 movie GI Blues. I loooooove Tulsa and GI Blues for lots of reasons, but one of them is because I was born and raised in Oklahoma. I just couldn't help myself 😂. (Also please forgive any inaccuracies in my German, the geography, the time period, the military, etc. I did my best here.)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation (male), kissing, cussing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, and I think that's about it. It's pretty fluffy.

Word count: 6.3kish (I know it's long, but the backstory is important and it's a slow burn...)

When your father was transferred to Germany in 1956, the last thing you wanted to do was leave the states. You were just about to graduate from high school, so you argued and begged to be left behind. Of course, without a wedding ring on your finger, your father wasn't letting you live anywhere but where he was.

You never dreamed you'd love it here so much. Now, you've been here for four years and you've built a pretty good life. Still, sometimes you missed being back home. Not that you'd ever really had a place to call "home". Being a military brat wasn't easy and you'd never lived anywhere longer than 4 years at a time. Most places you only stayed 2, except for the stint in Colorado where your younger brother was born and the stint in Oklahoma where the twins were born. The time in Oklahoma was particularly memorable for you. You started 5th grade there and stayed until the summer before 9th grade. You were actually there long enough to make some good friends and experience your first dabbling in love. It was nothing serious, of course, but you'd never forget how he kissed you behind the swings at the park near your house. When you moved to North Carolina that summer, you were devastated.

Still, that was a long time ago, and living in Germany had changed you. You were a grown woman now, complete with a job singing in a night club. Your dad didn't love it, but being 22, you were more free to do as you pleased. And you typically did exactly that.

******

Tulsa, Cookie, and Rick were at the train station preparing for their transfer to Frankfurt. When they met the soldiers who just came from there, the first thing they wanted to know about was the girls. Where were the prettiest ones and what were they like? Rick was only concerned about one girl, Marla, who he had met and fallen in love with a year ago. Tulsa was ready to meet new ones and Cookie was along with him for the ride.

"There's only one dame to avoid." Turk warned.

"Avoid? That sounds like a challenge to me." Tulsa joked, his crooked smirk splayed across his face. He was the perfect combination of sexy and cute and he knew it. Girls didn't typically say no to him.

"You say that, but this dame is just mean. She's prettier than sin, but no man can get close to her. I'm telling you, don't waste your time."

"Well, now I'm really intrigued. Where do I find her?" Turk rolled his eyes at Tulsa's cockiness.

"She sings at the Cafe Amerikanisch."

"Amerikanisch? Is she--"

"American? Yes." Tulsa's eyes lit up. Picking up frauleins in a GI uniform was easy. A girl from back home would present a challenge worthy of his effort.

"Well, we'll see if I can't melt this ice queen." He looked at Cookie and wiggled his eyebrows. Turk scoffed. There was a whistle and everyone moved to board the train. As they walked away, Turk called out to Tulsa.

"Good luck! Her name is y/n!"

******

The Cafe Amerikanisch is owned by an American expat and is intended to serve as a haven for homesick soldiers and other Americans living and working in Germany. As an American singer, and a pretty good looking one at that, you are a perfect act for this particular club.

Tonight is a pretty normal Saturday for you as you sit in your dressing room waiting for it to be time for you to go on stage. Your shiny red dress is form-fitting with a dangerously high slit, but your legs are your best feature, so it doesn't bother you much. There's a knock on your door and someone lets you know you've got two minutes. You slip on your black heels and long black gloves and stand up, adjusting your hair in the mirror. The last thing you do is blow yourself a red-lipstick kiss for good luck and then make your way to the stage.

The band begins and you do your normal set, singing and flirting with the audience. You've just started your last song, a jazzy version of Dream a Little Dream of Me by Ella Fitzgerald, when you notice a group of American GIs come in and stand in the corner watching you. It's too dark for you to really see them, but your stomach drops and you have to actively stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Great, now you'll have to deal with them tonight.

You've learned from experience that the soldiers usually come in with one thing on their mind. For some reason, you seem to represent some kind of prize for them to win. You gave in once early in your career and fell in love head over heels just for him to disappear several months later. Since then, you've avoided these men like the plague and turned down, quite aggressively, every advance from one of them. It sounds arrogant to assume they're there for you, but it just always seems to be true. You don't intend on calling their bluff tonight or ever, really.

Seeing them standing in the corner sends up your defenses and you start to come up with reasons to go directly home after you finish singing. Finally, your set is done and you bow, smiling to the crowd, waving and blowing kisses. You head off the stage to your dressing room to change and get out of here. You're a little annoyed because you were hoping to stay and have a few drinks with some of the other girls in the show, but now you'll have to run home. Once you're back in your navy blue and white dress, you grab your coat and purse and make an attempt to leave. Several of the other girls stop you before you can get to the door, though, and you chat with them for a bit.

"Please get a drink with us, y/n!"

"No, I really need to go. I'm so tired."

"Just one? You always run out of here so quick."

"Alright, one drink. And then I have to go."

You let them lead you to a table, keeping your eyes on the group of GIs, waiting for them to try to approach you. You accidentally make eye contact with one of them and a bolt of recognition hits you. Why does he seem so familiar? No matter. You can ignore him, and his sweet blue eyes and perfect hair, the same way you've ignored all the others.

They stay put where they are, watching you, until after you get your drink. You're starting to think that maybe they'll leave you alone when you notice them making their way towards you. You down your drink in three gulps and say a quick goodbye to the girls. You stand up and almost run smack into the one with the blue eyes.

Between the alcohol and standing up so fast, you're a little dizzy and almost running into him knocks you off balance. He catches you with both hands on your upper arms before you fall.

"Whoa, honey, where are you headed so fast?" There's something about his accent that causes you to freeze. Who is he?

"Wait. Y/n?!" Your eyes scan up to his face and you try to place him. He's so familiar and he obviously knows you too.

"It's Tulsa! Tulsa McLean!" He steps back from you and gestures to himself.

Your heart stops.

"Oh my god. Tulsa..." Your hand goes to your mouth and you look up into his eyes.

You haven't seen him since you moved from Oklahoma 8 years ago. Your brain flashes back to holding his hand, going to the movies and getting hamburgers, and most of all, that kiss behind the swing set. You wrote letters back and forth for a while, but you lost contact once you both really got into high school. Now he's here, in front of you again.

"What are you doing here?" You ask. He points to his uniform.

"Isn't it obvious? What are you doing here?"

"My father..."

"He's here? I don't remember him liking me very much." He chuckles and looks around the club like your father might be right around the corner. You notice that the other soldiers are elbowing each other and laughing, like Tulsa has a real chance here and they're impressed. That makes your blood boil and you turn back to Tulsa coldly.

"Well, it's good to see you, but I really need to head home." He blinks, surprised by the change in your tone.

"Now wait a minute, can we go somewhere to talk?"

"No, I'm sorry. It's late. Goodnight." You turn and walk away. There's a pang in your heart as you do. You've missed him, a lot, but he's a soldier now. There's no way you can trust him. You swallow the lump in your throat as you walk out the door towards your house.

******

"Tulsa! We thought you were in for sure!" He and his group of friends make their way to a table to order some drinks.

"How do you know her?" He looks down at his beer when it comes, thinking about the time you spent together all those years ago. He hasn't stopped thinking about you in all that time.

"We went to school together for a while when we were kids." He's gotten unusually quiet and the guys look at each other in surprise.

"Isn't that a good thing? It'll make it easier, right?"

"Guys, I'm not doing this anymore."

"Aw, Tulsa, come on. You're our entertainment! You gotta prove to Turk that you can do it!"

"No, I'm done. I'm going to head back to the barracks. I'll see y'all later." He stands up and makes his way to the door. On his way out, he stops at the table of girls you had been sitting with.

"Hey, ladies. Do any of y'all know where I could find y/n?" The girls look at each other, hesitant to share your location with a soldier. Still, you live with your parents, so they figure your father will keep you safe if anything really bad happens. The girl that you're closest with, Maryann, tells him your address.

"Thank you. Truly." He flashes them a winning smile and heads for the door.

Cookie sees him walk out and turns back to the guys.

"Hey, fellas. I don't think this is over." They laugh and cheer. Your friends notice this and make a note to tell you later.

******

You're sitting in your room, brushing your hair and looking in the mirror, trying not to think about Tulsa. You've already gotten ready for bed, so you have on pajamas and your robe. It's really late and the rest of the house is asleep. The only lights on are in your small apartment over the garage. You live with your parents, but the house is large and you've got your own area with a bathroom and sitting room. Your father let you move over here when you started working at the club. This was the closest he would let you get to living on your own. Just as you put the brush down and go to get in your bed, you hear something hit your window. What on earth was that?

You ignore the sound and continue getting in bed. When you hear it again, though, you start to get nervous. You walk cautiously to the window and peek through your curtains at the street down below.

What the hell??

Tulsa is down there, throwing tiny rocks from the garden at your window.

How did he find you?!

When he sees you in the window, he waves like the 10-year-old he was when you met him. You open the window and call down as quietly as possible.

"Tulsa! What are you doing here?!"

"I need to talk to you!" He hollers.

"Shhhh! You're going to wake up my father. I'm coming down there." You look in the mirror quickly on your way down. Your pajamas will have to do, since you don't want to take the time to get dressed. And your hair is down around your shoulders, unfixed. But it's just Tulsa. He saw you in junior high; this can't be worse than that.

You tiptoe down the stairs and open the front door as quietly as possible. You pull your robe tighter around yourself and step out into the chilly night air, dragging the door closed softly behind you.

"What? Talk fast. I'm freezing."

"Maybe we should go inside?"

"Nice try, soldier. I'll be okay. Just talk."

"Well, I hadn't really thought of what I was going to say. I just needed to see you again." He smiles sheepishly.

"Tulsa. Why?"

"I'm not entirely sure." You scoff and start to go back inside. He grabs your arm lightly to stop you and his touch sends shockwaves through your body.

"No! Wait! I just... I haven't ever stopped thinking about you..."

"That was a long time ago, Tuls..."

"Have dinner with me." You shake your head no. "Please, Birdie..." Your eyes snap up to his. He called you by the nickname he made up for you back then, when you used to sing while he played the guitar. You can hear his junior high voice, "You're just like a little songbird. My very own Birdie."

"Just dinner?" You can feel yourself melting a bit and it bothers you.

"Yes. I promise."

"Pick me up tomorrow at 8." He nods excitedly and you turn to go back inside. You really hope you don't regret this.

******

Tulsa watches you walk back up to the house. He's still a little in shock that you said yes. He also can't believe what a beautiful woman you've become. He knew you were cute, but this is something entirely different. As he turns to go back to the barracks, his mind wanders to the way you looked in your red dress. It hugged every curve perfectly and your leg was peeking out through the slit. He longed to see both of your legs without the skirt in the way. And then you came downstairs in your pajamas and were somehow even more beautiful with your hair falling down around your shoulders. He imagines taking your robe off and running his hands up and under your silky pajamas. When he realizes how aroused he is, he decides to get a cab so he can sit down and not be wandering the streets of Frankfurt with a blatantly obvious erection.

Back at the barracks, he's the first one home for the night. He figures the other guys are still out at the club. His mind wanders back to you in the red dress and what it might look like on the floor of this room. Before he knows it, he's turned on again and he decides to do something pretty risky. He pulls his army-issue blanket over his lap and frees his painfully hard dick from his pants. As he touches himself, he imagines what your small, soft hands might feel like on him. The possibility drives him insane as he begins to stroke himself faster and faster. Then, he thinks of your beautiful red lips wrapped around him and he moans softly. He knows he probably doesn't have much time before the other guys come home, so he continues to move his hand up and down, moving his foreskin back and forth, the friction making his hips buck into his hand. His mind stays focused on you and your curves as he imagines holding your hips and pounding into you, first from behind and then with you on top so he can watch your breasts as they bounce with his motions. The image is almost overwhelming and he feels his release building. Finally, when he pictures the face you make when he gives you an orgasm, he comes hard, moaning your name with a string of cuss words.

His blanket is ruined, so he uses it to clean himself up quickly and then tosses it in his laundry. He's breathing heavily, a little embarrassed at having just gotten himself off to the thought of you, when he hears the guys coming down the hallway. He tries to slow his heart rate and gets ready for bed, laying down just as the door opens.

"Hey Tulsa! You missed a helluva night! You shoulda seen this girl Cookie was talking to!" He rolls over pretends like they woke him up.

"How'd it go with your girl?" They all look at him expectantly.

"Oh, well, uh, we're having dinner tomorrow night." They whoop and holler, the amount of beer they had becoming obvious.

"We knew you'd get her! Nothing like a connection from the past to get a girl to go weak in the knees for ya!" Tulsa frowns.

"It's not like that, fellas." He tries not to think about what he just pictured you doing. "We're old friends. That's all. Now let me go back to sleep." He rolls back over as they continue talking and laughing. He tries to go to sleep, but he can't stop imagining you curled up next to him in your silk pajamas.

******

You're standing in front of your house in your favorite pink dress when Tulsa pulls up in a cab. You forgot that he wouldn't have a car, since he's a soldier. He hops out and opens the door for you, but you shake your head.

"We'll take my car." He pays the cab driver and follows you to your BMW convertible. His mouth pops open when he realizes it's yours.

"Nightclub business must be good." He jokes. You remember how much he loves cars and toss him the keys.

"I don't really feel like driving tonight." His eyes light up and you can't stop yourself from smiling. He really is an attractive man. This might be harder than you thought.

You guide him to a restaurant, where he parks and runs to your side of the car to open the door for you. He still has his southern manners. Once you get to the table, you both relax a bit and it feels more like the two of you used to be, talking and laughing easily.

"And how's your mama? She was always so sweet to me." You ask, taking a bite of your food.

"That's because she loved you! Always said you were too good for me. She was probably right." He looks at you shyly. "But, she's good! She and Daddy still live in the same house. I haven't seen them in almost 2 years." He gets a little somber and you can tell he must be homesick.

"Are you almost finished with your tour?"

"I've got three months here in Frankfurt and then I'm free. I can't wait to get back to the states." You look down at your plate. He's going to disappear in three months. Don't get attached.

"What about you? Will you be headed stateside any time soon?"

"No, my father is about to retire, but he wants to stay here. And even if he left, I'd probably try to stay. I like it here and I don't really have a home in the US. Not like you do."

"You could always come back to Oklahoma." He cuts himself off before he says "with me." You look up at him, noticing that it seems like he wants to say something else, but he doesn't. Instead, he changes the subject to talk about your singing career. He tells you he has formed a group with some of the guys and has been performing whenever they get a chance. He also tells you about how they want to open a nightclub when they get home.

"See, you could come sing in our club! Be our main act!" You know he's joking, but there's an edge of seriousness to him that makes you wonder.

You continue to talk and laugh through the rest of dinner and it feels good to be with him, like he brings out a part of you that you forgot exists. A happy, hopeful, youthful part of you that's been buried since you had your heart broken.

You sit together at dinner for a long time after you finish eating and even when you can't sit there any longer, you're still not ready to be away from him. He suggests a drink somewhere and you agree with a swiftness that you fear gives you away.

You like him. A lot.

He's still the sweet, funny boy you loved so long ago, just in the body of this charming and devilishly handsome man.

You decide to take him back to the Amerikanisch for drinks. It's familiar and you know everyone that works there. You sit at your table together and continue your conversation from before. At one point, he says something really funny and you put your hand on his on the table. He stops laughing and looks at you longingly. You let him take your hand and hold it, running his thumb over your knuckles softly. Your heart beats faster and you start to wish that you were somewhere other than a crowded club so he could kiss you if he wanted to. And something tells you that he wants to. The spell is broken, though, when his friends come in and see you together. He gets up to take them to a different table.

"I'll be right back, Birdie." He uses your nickname again and you wish it didn't make you melt all over again.

As soon as he's gone, Maryann joins you at your table.

"You need to watch out for that one."

"For Tulsa? No, I've known him for a long time. He's not that kind of guy."

"Yeah, well, his buddies sure think he is." She tells you about what she and the other girls noticed last night.

"Just be careful, okay? I'd hate to see you become some kind of trophy for him." You nod and look over at him at the table with the other soldiers. You can't let yourself forget he's one of them.

******

"What are you guys doing here?"

"We had a feeling you'd be here with y/n and we wanted to come check on your progress. And even if you weren't, Cookie wanted to come see his waitress."

"Check my progress? I told y'all that's not what this is. You're about to ruin the whole thing." Tulsa raises his voice slightly to let them know he's serious. Cookie's waitress comes by and he disappears to follow her to the bar. The rest of the guys agree to back off, so Tulsa makes his way back over to you. There's another girl sitting with you, though, and he recognizes her as the one who gave him your address.

"Thanks again for helping me find her...?"

"Maryann. Nice to meet you. I've been hearing a lot about you in the last ten minutes." She stands up and lets him sit back down. As she walks away, she gestures to you that she's watching.

"What was that all about?"

"Oh, nothing really. She just worries about me since..." You trail off, not really wanting to talk about why.

"Since what?"

"Since Mike." Tulsa looks uncomfortable and brings his eyebrows together in a frown.

"Who is Mike?" You don't want to, but you feel safe with Tulsa, so you tell him the whole story. How you let him take you out, let him convince you to fall in love with him, let him make you believe he wanted to marry you, let him have you. When you get to the last part, Tulsa looks away from you, obviously affected. The thought of you with another man makes him sick to his stomach. The thought of that man hurting you fills him with rage. He suddenly wishes Mike was around, so he could punch him in the face and then take you in his arms and protect you.

"That's why you don't trust soldiers." You nod, not wanting to let the tears that have gathered in your eyes find a way to fall. He's dying to put his arm around you and comfort you. He wants to wipe the tears from your eyes and make sure you never cry again. But you're still in the middle of a crowded club.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" He asks, trying to sound as genuine as possible. You look over to his table of friends hesitantly. He looks down at his hands, frustrated by the fact that they've made you nervous. He'd give anything not to be wearing this stupid uniform right now.

"Yes." He looks up at you, pleasantly surprised. You decide to trust him, despite everything. He stands up and puts his hand out for you to take, so you grab your coat and wrap your fingers through his. At your touch, his heart skips a beat. This might be more than just rekindling a friendship.

******

When you get outside the club, the cold wind hits you and you shiver. Tulsa puts his arm around you, and you let him, warmth spreading through you.

The only place you can think of to go is back to your house. You recognize that this might send the wrong message, but you're not exactly sure that is the wrong message at this point.

Once you're in the car, Tulsa asks where you want to go.

"Home."

"Oh. Okay." He thinks you mean without him. You scoot close to him in the front seat and put your head on his shoulder.

"I want you to come with me." He tries to hide his excitement and fails, but instead of being annoyed, you think it's really cute. He puts the car in drive and you make your way back to your house.

Thankfully, the house is dark when you get there. You weren't looking forward to explaining to your father why Tulsa was coming upstairs with you. Instead, you both take off your shoes and walk as quietly as possible until you reach the safety of your apartment.

As soon as you close your bedroom door, you both burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. You're grown adults sneaking around like teenagers. He sets his hat down on your dresser while you take your coat off. You stand there for a while, staring at each other in silence. Then, slowly, carefully, he reaches out and puts his hand on your cheek, brushing it softly with his thumb. You close your eyes and lean into his palm. Your heart is beating so fast and your eyes flutter open to meet his blue ones. They're soft and calm, like the ocean on a still day. As he leans in, your fingers begin to tingle. When his soft lips finally meet yours, a tidal wave of desire washes over you and you're filled with a need for him to touch every inch of you. The same wave seems to hit him as well because he moves his hands from your face to your waist, pulling your hips in close to him as you throw your arms around his neck. Your lips part and he slides his tongue into your mouth to dance with yours. You feel your body heat up as he presses against you, kissing you passionately.

After a few minutes of being locked together like this, he pulls back from your lips and looks into your eyes again.

"Is this really what you want, Birdie? I don't want you to feel like I'm forcing you into anything." You think for a second. If this continues, you know you won't be able to stop yourself from falling for him. But do you want to stop? Tulsa isn't like the others. He knows you. And even if he is leaving in a few months, you've found each other once before. Who's to say you won't do it again? You're ready to stop being scared. And three months with him sounds better than a lifetime with Mike.

"Yes, this is what I want. You are what I want, Tulsa." He dives back into the kiss and never looks back. You walk backwards towards your bed, pulling his tie off and starting to unbutton his shirt. He finishes your work and drops it on the floor, his lips never moving from yours. His hands move to the back of your dress, finding the zipper and carefully pulling it down to the small of your back. As he runs his hands back up to your shoulders, his fingers graze the skin that was under your dress and the electricity is palpable. You wiggle your shoulders as he slides the top half of your dress off. He kisses down your neck to your shoulder and each place he presses his lips burns with a newfound heat. You push your dress down over your hips and let it fall to the floor with his shirt. He slides the tips of his fingers under your slip and pushes it down too. Then, he pulls back and looks at you standing there in your garter belt, hose, bra, and panties.

"Wow." You blush a little with his burning gaze moving up and down your body and move to cover yourself with your hands.

"You don't have to hide from me, baby." He gently moves your hands away from you and you start to feel more comfortable. His presence is comforting, even as you stand there nearly naked. You take a moment to look down his body, running your hands from his shoulders down to the waistline of his pants. That's when you notice that his dick is hard, pressing against the fabric of his pants dramatically. You look up into his eyes and he looks away and clears his throat like he's embarrassed. You put one hand on his cheek and softly move his face back to making eye contact with you. Then you take your other hand and touch him over his pants, rubbing up and down his dick carefully.

"Mmm." His eyes close and his hips buck forward into your hand. He is desperate for your touch, just as you are for his. He moves his hands up and down your sides and then finds the back of your garter belt with his fingers. He undoes the hooks and then sits you down on the edge of the bed. Kneeling down in front of you, he slowly unclips your hose and drops the belt to the floor. Then, he gently rolls your hose down each of your legs, lifting each ankle to his lips and pressing a kiss there. He kisses each of your knees and then pushes them apart to kiss the inside of each thigh. As he gets closer and closer to your center, you feel your arousal begin to gather in your panties. He stops before he gets there, though, and stands up. You lean forward and unbutton his pants.

"Wait, honey." He puts his hands on yours and stands there looking down at you, breathing heavily. He wants to savor this moment with you. He's been with women before, but something about this feels like another kind of first time. It's a little overwhelming and he wants to make sure it doesn't move too quickly. He looks at you sitting there in just your bra and panties. You might be the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Even his imagination didn't do you justice. Is this what it feels like to be in love?

"Should I... should I put on pajamas or something?" You look around the room, assuming something about you must have turned him off, despite his continuing erection. He sits next to you on the bed.

"Oh, no, honey--"

"You don't like me?" You look at him with tears in your eyes. You didn't realize it mattered to you so much, but now you know. You so desperately want him to want you, to like you, to love you the way you've realized you've always loved him.

"Don't like you?! Baby, I-I... well... to hell with it... I love you." Your eyes snap up to meet his.

"Y-you do?"

"Aw, hell. Yes, y/n I do. I always have." He searches your face for some kind of reassurance that he's not alone in this.

"I love you too..." you whisper it, but it's enough for him. He puts his hands on your face and pulls you into a deep kiss. He lays you back on the bed, running his hand down your body. He kisses down your neck, whispering "I love you" in between each kiss. His hand makes its way to your center and he moves your panties to the side, sliding his finger up your slit to the place that makes your back arch and a moan escape your lips. He smiles at how easily you come undone in his hands. After a few second of this, he slips one finger into you and then two. The feeling of some part of him inside you is enough to drive you to the edge. He sits up on his knees and slides your panties down and off. Then he climbs in between your legs and pushes his fingers back into you, moving them in and out rhythmically. You're overcome by the sensation of his hands on you and the intense emotions that are running through you. He loves you. But more importantly, you love him. Everything physical that's happening is just an expression of that and you never want it to end. Just as you think you're going to lose control, he lowers his mouth onto you and adds his tongue to the movements he's already making. You gasp and it doesn't take long for your orgasm to build up and crash over you like waves on a beach, over and over again out to the edges of your body and back again.

"Oh, yes, Tulsa!" You cry out as you shudder and pulse around his fingers. He sits up on his knees and finally lets you undo his pants, kicking them and his underwear off quickly. He unhooks your bra and literally throws it to the side. Now, it's like he can't move fast enough. He needs to be inside you as soon as possible. You help him with this task, lining him up with your entrance before he pushes into you hard and deep.

"Oh shit." He moans. "You feel so good, Birdie." When he uses your nickname again you whimper and kiss his neck. He begins to pump in and out of you and both of you begin to sweat. You feel him inside you, hitting all of your most sensitive places. The rhythm he keeps is not too fast or too slow, his hips pressing into yours and driving him deeper inside you. You can't believe how good he feels like this. But you want to repay him for the pleasure he gave you at the start, so you push him off of you and lay him on his back next to you. He follows directions easily, waiting patiently for you to straddle him and lower yourself onto him. Groaning with the change in sensation of having you on top of him, he reaches up and cups both of your breasts while you bounce. The picture that you make, sitting there on top of him, drives him absolutely crazy.

"God, you're beautiful." He moves his hands to your hips and starts to thrust into you deeply. You roll your hips to meet his over and over, your hands on his chest. His eyes roll back and close as his mouth is opened partially. The look of pleasure that he has makes you want to keep doing this forever. His arousal fuels your own as you continue to grind against him.

"Yes, don't stop!" You moan again as another orgasm builds inside you, starting in your abdomen and spreading through your legs.

"I'm gonna come, baby." He opens his eyes and tries to watch the expression on your face, but he's overwhelmed by his own ecstatic pleasure as you reach your climax together. You feel his warmth inside you and know it's risky, but you don't care. In that moment, the only thing that matters is you and him together, bodies intertwined and breathing heavily, your skin pressed against his. You lay on his chest and he wraps his arms around you and kisses your hair.

"Birdie, that was..."

"...everything." You look up at him from your position on his chest. You've never felt anything like this before, emotionally or physically. You gently run your fingertip down the line of his nose and he grabs your fingers and kisses them. The intimacy between you goes beyond the simplicity of sex. You belong to each other.

Eventually, you get up to go to the bathroom, thinking about everything that just happened. It seems like fate that you would run into each other again. And after what just happened, you don't ever want to let him go.

When you get back to the bedroom, he gestures for you to come lay beside him. He's under the covers now; it looks like he doesn't want to go anywhere either. It's fine by you that he stays. You wish he could stay forever. That's when you remember that he's leaving in 3 months.

"Tulsa, what are we gonna do?"

"About what, honey?"

"You're only here for a little while." You crawl into the bed and snuggle up against him. He's not worried about anything, though. In his mind, he's going to buy a ring tomorrow.

"Come back to Oklahoma with me." He says it matter-of-factly. You think about what that would mean, leaving your job and your friends and your family behind. But you've moved so many times before. And this time, you wouldn't be moving away from somewhere, you'd be moving towards a home with him.

"Okay. I'll go home with you. I'm not sure how my father will feel about me moving without--"

"--a ring on your finger? Let me worry about that part." He makes his crooked smirk-smile and you kiss his cheek.

"I trust you..."

******

The End

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I wasn't sure if anyone would want to be tagged, since this is technically not an Elvis fic...