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ky-yk · 11 months

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eve, psyche, and… (hyj x f!reader)

a sequel to “delicate (hyj x f!reader)”

genre: fluff || word count: 2.4k

author’s note: you asked, i delivered. hope u enjoy this one, fruit baskets 🫶🫨

you weren’t a k-pop stan. not by a long shot.

yet here you were, in seoul, seated as close to the stage as you could be for le sserafim’s flame rises concert.

you sat patiently waiting for the show to start with your bucket hat resting low on your head and your banner on your lap. to pass the time, you started mindlessly using your phone.

soon enough, you ended up looking through your conversations with jen and reminiscing on how far you two had come.

after sending jen that dm, you pocketed your phone and continued your journey back to your hotel. as soon as you arrived, your phone connected to the wifi and came alive with notifications from friends and family asking about how the concert went. you put your phone down and instead decided to get on with your evening routine before replying to them.

as you settled in bed, you skimmed through your friends' and family's messages.

however, one notification caught your eye.

jenaissante: well well well

you smiled to yourself as you finally read the message. the girl was online as well and must’ve seen you read her message because you then saw a text bubble pop up beside her profile picture, the three dots bouncing around in anticipation.

jenaissante: wait wait not here 😭

suddenly, you receive another notification: a follow request from what appeared to be her private account.

jenaissante: let’s talk there instead

itsyn: alright then 😭

after accepting her follow request and following her back, you dm’d her again.

itsyn: so

itsyn: a k-pop idol, huh?

you barely slept a wink that night because you spent the whole time talking to jen—yunjin. laying on your stomach while hugging the pillow beneath you, you and her talked about anything and everything until the post-concert exhaustion caught up with you.

the other girl must’ve noticed you’d passed out, because as she sat at the airport and waited to board, she chuckled to herself before typing one last message for the night.

pas.un.ange: good night, y/n.

you shook your head and chuckled to yourself as you pocketed your phone, paying attention to your surroundings instead and taking it all in: people settling into their seats, the excited chatter of fans (fearnots? is that what they’re called?), and just the sheer scale of the production. you had a vague idea of just how huge jen was, but seeing it in person was surreal.

quite the superstar you are, huh, jen?

before the show began, you picked your lightstick up from your bag, as well as your battery pack, and put them together just in time for the lights to dim as everyone else raised their lightsticks and cheered in excitement. you looked around at the scene, a sense of pride washing over you as you happily hollered with the crowd.

an intro video played on screen, signaling the start of the show. as each member appeared on screen for the first time, the crowd went wild, making you chuckle at first before joining the ruckus.

soon enough, though, yunjin appeared on screen.

and any scream that was due to come out of your throat died in its wake, instead leaving you slack-jawed at the sight of your seatmate in all her idol glory -- dressed to the nines and her once bright and wide eyes now glaring into your soul.

this wasn't jen. this was huh yunjin.

before you knew it, the vcr had ended, and the screens were splitting to make way for the five-piece to take the stage -- much to the excitement of the whole crowd. as soon as their silhouettes were clear, the crowd only hollered more (and further justified the $35 you spent on earplugs).

soon enough, both the spotlight and the cameras were on them for all to see. you looked on in awe at your seatmate now taking the stage for herself. not long after, the girls got in formation, and you could hear the buildup to their latest single blasting over the speakers.

"unforgiven, i'm a villain, i'm a."

the show was on.

you'd lost count of how many times your jaw dropped at just how impressed you were. before the concert, you were only vaguely familiar with the group. you'd think that as jen's friend, you'd be up to date on all their latest releases and shenanigans, but you made it clear to her that you wanted to get to know her outside of her idol life and career.

that lead to you basically receiving a crash course in all things le sserafim as the concert went on. you'd gotten familiar with the members and their idol personas, their insane discography, their overflowing talent, and their undeniable charm.

some members more so than others.

what's that called again? a bias?

you knew jen was talented. you knew she sang and played the guitar, you knew she had a few original songs under her belt (even sneaking you peeks at some unreleased ones), and you knew she'd spent a large chunk of her life training to become an idol.

but seeing her here right now? guitar in hand and performing an unreleased song under the harsh spotlight for her solo stage after singing and dancing with unrivaled charm for multiple songs back to back? you knew she was born to perform.

soon enough, it was time for the encore.

and it was your time to shine.

seeing the girls come back out and stylishly wearing their tour merch, you perked up and readied your sign. after a few words from the members, the telltale synths of flash forward came on the speakers as yunjin opened the song and started walking around the stage to interact with fans.

as you saw her come closer, you raised your sign even higher to try and grab her attention. she was smiling and waving at the fans beside you, but soon enough, she looked in your direction and took notice of your sign.

and then you.

you peeked out from under your bucket hat and made eye contact with the girl. you laughed at her bewildered expression before she pointed at herself and mouthed, "my wife?"

you responded with a sheepish shrug as she chuckled at you and gave you an easy smile that she must've realized lingered a little too long because she then moved on to the other fans around you and finally left your side of the stage.

you stood with your sign as the other members stopped by your side of the stage. when you locked eyes with them, they all looked some semblance of surprise -- as if they recognized you. jen must've told them about me, huh? you hope none of the fans around you saw their reactions to you. this is not how i want to get famous...

soon enough, though, the confetti popped as the girls took their final bows, not before shedding a few (a lot) tears, though.

that you took way too many pictures of.

for a rainy day, you know?

you sat back down and waited for the rest of the crowd to leave. when you noticed your own seatmates getting up to go, you followed their lead. with their chatter as your background noise, you turned your phone on and connected to your pocket wifi as your notifications came pouring in.

from a certain k-pop idol.

pas.un.ange: i didnt imagine that right

pas.un.ange: you were here??

pas.un.ange: where are u staying btw

pas.un.ange: also

pas.un.ange: my wife? 😳

you shook your head and chuckled to yourself at her shenanigans as you made your way out of the arena and towards the subway station. you replied to each of her messages just before your train arrived. you pocketed your phone and settled in, letting the exhaustion just barely take over you before you could reach your stop.

as you stepped out into the cool seoul evening, you absent-mindedly walked back to your hotel and were just about to go inside, but not before a voice stopped you in your tracks.

"damn, not even a hug from my wife?"

you looked up in surprise at jen, wrapped up in her huge coat with her hands in her pockets as she laughed at how your droopy eyes suddenly went wide. she walked closer, but not before you could crash into her, wrap your arms around her waist, and hug her tight. taken by surprise at the sudden contact, she returned the hug and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

"you've got time for a snack run?" you heard her ask. you nodded against her chest, feeling it rumble as she chuckled.

"ja, let's go," she said before letting you go and walking into the convenience store located right beside the hotel entrance with you trailing right behind her.

you both scoured the aisles and picked up some ramyeon for you both to share. after taking your pick, though, you both kept exploring the store for more items either of you might want to pick up.

soon enough, you made it to the back of the store where they kept their drinks in rows of refrigerators. you opened a fridge, being greeted by an assault of cold air, and picked up a bottle of coke zero, before hearing her call out to you.

"yah, y/n, come here!" she said, looking up at the mirror on the corner ceiling, her phone ready to take pictures. you shook your head in playful disbelief as you saddled up beside her and had your mini photoshoot.

you sat patiently by the window as she paid and cooked your food (at her insistence). you broke out of your reverie when the smell of your ramyeon attacked your senses.

"something on your mind?" she asked as she took the seat beside you, put your drinks down, and offered you a pair of chopsticks that you then took.

"do your managers know you're here?"

"what they don't know won't kill them," she shrugged before you smacked her shoulder.

"hey! i'm kidding, of course they know I'm here. how else do you think i got here before you did?"

"and you're not worried about getting caught?"

"i'd say i'm conspicuous enough. it helps that i'm speaking english."

you thought about it for a second before resigning, breaking your chopsticks apart, and mixing the ramyeon.

"i still can't quite believe you're here."

"you did amazing, by the way. all of you. send my regards to the girls later, they were lovely."

"what was your favorite part?" she asked nonchalantly.

"oh, probably when kazuha--"

"yah!"

"i'm kidding! hm..." you hummed, as if deep in thought.

"probably when my bias noticed my sign."

"yeah?"

"oh yeah, kazuha is so much prettier up close,"

"if you want i cou--"

"she's nothing compared to you, though." it was your turn to cut her off with a hand to her bicep. the words die in her throat as she visibly flusters. she clears her throat and changes the subject.

seconds turn into minutes, minutes turn into an hour, and soon enough, jen's phone starts buzzing.

"yeoboseyo? ne... ah ne." with the way her face falls, you can only imagine what the conversation was about. she puts her phone down and lets out a deep sigh.

"i think i have to go, manager-nim's been waiting up on me for a while now."

you hum in understanding. "send my regards to your manager, too, i feel bad for keeping him this long."

you both start arranging your trash into a pile. jen moves to stand, and you're just about to do the same, but not before you feel a weight slumped behind you, burying its face in your neck.

"i dont wanna go," you can barely make out, causing you to chuckle.

jen gets up from the awkward position and stands behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and pressing her front to your back. your eyes widen at the contact and you hope that if she catches your face burning, she assumes it's just because of the ramyeon you both had. she rests her chin on your shoulder and sighs.

you feel her right arm leave its spot on your waist and disappointment bubble up for a second before she hands you her phone. "come on, let's take a few pictures."

"you love your pictures, huh?"

"i don't know when i can see you again."

you hummed as you opened her camera and she wrapped her arms around your waist again, cuddling in closer than you thought was even possible for the picture. you kept spamming the shutter as she kept nuzzling closer to you, even feeling her nosing your neck at some point.

after saying your goodbyes to the lovely register, you both walked out into the cold night, the blast of air waking you both up better than any cup of coffee could. in front of your hotel, a lone black van was parked.

you walked side by side, bumping into each other as you walked to the front of your hotel. jen stopped in her tracks, and you took that as a sign to walk in front of her.

"well, i guess this is me."

"i think i've seen this film before, haven't you?" she jokes, trying to lighten the mood. you chuckled.

"you're right, it does feel familiar," you say as you take a step closer to her.

it was your turn to hold her by the biceps and tiptoe to whisper in her ear.

"only this time, i wonder if i'll like the ending."

before you could pull away, jen throws all caution into the cold wind and cups your cheeks to take your breath away in a searing kiss. frozen at first, you soon relax into the kiss and place your hands on her waist to return the kiss. eventually, you both barely pulled away, leaving tiny pecks before completely separating.

jen's eyes open a little bit, looking a little dazed before seemingly snapping out of it. she drops her arms and takes a step back, suddenly looking super flustered and awkward -- scratching her neck and finding the post behind you so fascinating with how hard she was staring at it. you chuckled and stepped closer to give her a peck on the cheek.

"see you around, jen. get home safe," you tell her before disappearing into your hotel lobby.

"bye y/n," she whispers into the night before finally making her way into her van.

#🐻 — ky writes #girl group imagines #huh yunjin #le sserafim #huh yunjin x reader #lesserafim imagines #lesserafim x reader #yunjin #lesserafim yunjin #yunjin x reader

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estrellami-1 · 7 months

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If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36

Eddie’s heart thumps oddly once again, this time because Steve had used his name. He’d already become used to Eds. He ignores it and spreads his hands. “I’m willing to accept whatever you’ll give me,” he says quietly. “I’m still groveling, here, I’m not exactly in a position to be making demands.”

Steve smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes, and Eddie hates it. “That’s the thing, though. It’s complicated. I don’t know how to define it.”

Eddie hums. “We’re slightly to the left of best friends.”

Steve snickers. “That’s pretty spot-on, actually.”

Eddie shrugs and grins, feeling oddly proud of himself for figuring it out and making Steve smile.

They stand in silence for a minute until Alli pops her head out of the kitchen. “Are you two gonna kiss again? Or is now a good time to offer food?”

Steve snorts and pitches forward to rest his forehead against Eddie’s shoulder. “Al, you’re awful.”

“You love me,” she responds immediately, grinning at Eddie.

Eddie grins back and pokes at Steve’s arm. “She’s offering us food, Stevie, I’m inclined to say yes.”

Steve chuckles before leaning back to smile at Eddie. “Yeah, alright,” he decides, “I could eat.”

Eddie reaches out, links their hands, silently offers Steve an out.

He doesn’t take it, instead grips Eddie’s hand more surely, and something in Eddie’s chest settles.

They walk into the kitchen, hand-in-hand, and Steve grins and shakes his head when Alli starts cooing at them. “Yeah, okay,” he says, then, seemingly out of nowhere, “Hey, you should invite Cassidy over soon.”

Eddie looks between the siblings as they have a silent conversation mostly consisting of eyebrows and head tilts that ends with Steve grinning and Alli shaking her head, trying to hide a smile. “So,” Steve says, “what did you make?”

Alli chuckles and hops up backwards onto the counter by the stove. “Mac and cheese.”

“Ooh,” Steve says, instantly intrigued. He lets go of Eddie’s hand to peer into the pot. “With the good cheese?”

“With the good cheese,” Alli agrees.

Steve whirls around to grin at Eddie. “You’re gonna love this,” he says, “Alli makes the best mac and cheese.”

Eddie grins. “I dunno, Stevie, I think my uncle’s boxed mac might have her beat.”

Steve laughs, shaking his head as he gets three bowls out. He tilts his head towards a drawer. “There’s forks in there, can you grab some?”

Eddie does so, and just as they’re finishing serving themselves, someone opens the front door.

“Steve?” A voice calls. “You home?”

Steve sighs and puts his bowl down. “The little shit,” he mutters, moving out into the living room. “Dustin, what are you doing here?”

The answer is too quiet for Eddie to hear, so he eats his food and eyes Steve’s bowl. Alli laughs at him. “Don’t even think about it,” she says seriously, “Steve’s fought me for less.” Eddie gives her his best innocent who, me? look, and she grins at him. “Oh, you’re gonna be trouble. I like you.”

His grin turns smaller, shyer. “Thank you for not kicking my ass on sight, earlier,” he murmurs.

She grins and nudges his shoulder with her fist. “Steve’s tough. He doesn’t need me to protect him.”

“Maybe,” Eddie says, “but it’s still nice to have someone in your corner.”

“Oh,” she murmurs suddenly. “I forgot.”

Eddie’s brow furrows. “Forgot what?”

“The stories. ‘Bout why you’re here, in Forest Hills, ‘stead of wherever he is.”

She says he in a way that Eddie knows she knows exactly what’s meant by those two little letters. He swallows a lump. “Yeah,” he murmurs back. “‘S why I know.”

She smiles at him. “Your… uncle, right?”

Eddie smiles back. “Yeah. Wayne. He’s… he’s pretty great.”

Alli rests a hip on the counter. “Tell me about him?”

Stomach full of food, safe and warm and happy in this house, with the sound of his maybe-boyfriend scolding his pseudo-younger brother in the other room, Eddie grins and hops up onto the counter. “Gladly.”

Towards the end of his story, Steve comes huffing into the kitchen, making a beeline for the phone. He punches a number in and waits. “Hi, Mrs. Buckley,” he says politely. “Is Robin home?” He listens for a moment, says, “Okay, thank you,” and hangs up, turning to Eddie. “What’s your number?”

Eddie blinks before grinning, and Steve good-naturedly rolls his eyes. “Not like that, you ass,” he chuckles. Eddie relents and rattles off the numbers, and Steve punches those in before waiting again. “Hi, Mr. Munson,” Steve says. Eddie mouths the words and makes a face, and Alli snorts at him. “Is Robin there still?” A pause, then, “Ah,” as his cheeks pinken. “Yes, sir. He did.” Another few seconds later, “Hey. The little shit found Dart.” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “That’s the thing, though, is it did help. He fuckin’ domesticated the thing.” A laugh, then, “well I’m not gonna tell him.” A squawk, “I am not his-” he cuts off abruptly and pulls the phone from his ear to frown at it. “She hung up on me!”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @str4wb3rry-guy @paperbackribs @ninjapirateunicorns @bisexualdisastersworld @hiscrimsonangel @lolawonsstuff @xo-r4e @thedragonsaunt @l0st-strawberry

#stranger things #if I should stay #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #platonic stobin #Allison Harrington #dustin henderson #*Spreads hands out* please accept this offering of the calm before the storm #starambles

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f10werfae · 2 years

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My wife is fine, thanks

pairing: Husband!Henry x Wife!Reader

summary: I LOVE YOUR HENRY CAVILL POSTS!So can I request an Instagram blurb for wife!reader (obv for Henry Cavill), where fans react to wife!reader and henry having an age gap (10+). (requested by @chaotictwig)

requests are open/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Full M.List, Henry M.List, Taglist Form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

@/hellostarsky: Can everyone stop hating on Henry, so what if he’s 39 and she’s 28?? They’re both legal consenting adults, he did not groom her and treats her with the utmost respect. She does not need the stress of you guys while she’s pregnant with their baby.

@/caviilll: I don’t care what anyone says, Y/n and Henry are so mf cute. The way he spoils the hell out of her and just always holds her close♥️♥️ If only

@/relatimefr: Ok but their age gap is so weird, she was being born when he was like 11 wtf

>> @/Prettyprincess: They lit started dating at 24 and 35, you can calm yourself honey, they did nothing but fall in love☠️

@/Henry Cavill: Happy 29th birthday to my lovely beautiful wife, the future mother to our baby(ies) and my best friend in life. Glad to be doing life with you and no one else, can’t wait to see you when I get home tonight, both you and baby Cavill ♥️

@/Holymacsncheese: But their age gap suits them sm, Y/n makes sure Henry keeps up to date with all the new things today, and he grounds her to a sense of comfort and love. They compliment each other so much, match made in heaven I say

@/Polypockets: yall acting as if he groomed her straight out of highschool, they literally met on set where she had to play his wife, yall just jealous cause it ain’t you 💋

@/Y/nCavill: 35 Weeks today! Baby Cavill is now officially nearly here, unfortunately i’ll be taking a break from future projects for some time, I want to finally settle down and accept my new role. The role of motherhood. Hope you all understand, Y/n xx

>> @/HenryCavill: I’d like to follow this by saying that, after this new movie I will also be taking a break for the next year or so, who knows. Just would like you all to know that I appreciate those who support us wholeheartedly, and I can’t wait to start this new journey!

@/User19204726: That picture of Henry showing Y/n new dresses in the maternity shop while she’s sitting watching him, is the cutest thing. She was too tired to walk about the shop, so he literally went around and got everything to have a mini fashion show for her

@/pumpituplease: God bless Y/n for posting pictures of Henry painting the nursery, that man is giving real dilf material now, and we can’t forget about the milf Y/n. Sexiest Power couple for realsies

@/geraltlovers: Omg I thought we were over the whole age gap thing?! Why the hell are papers still calling him all these names and calling Y/n naïve?? They lit have a child together, get a grip

>> @/petalsforpeps: omg ikr, like get over yourselves because they don’t care about what you have to say

@/Y/nCavill: Henry and I would like to welcome baby Penelope into the world, she arrived on September 25th and is currently rocking it! No pictures will be shared, hope you all understand that ♥️

@/cpatainsy: HENRY IS A DAD GUYS OMG, HIM AND Y/N’S BABY IS GONNA ACTUALLY SLAY THE REAL WORLD. WE BETTER PREPARE OURSELVES!!

@/rainbowsncakes: Omg that photo Y/n posted with Henry’s back to the camera, you can just see the tiniest bit of baby Penelope’s hair out of the corner of his arm, AND ITS DARK HAIR, SHE GOT HIS CURLY HAIR I BET

>> @/lotsoocks: YOO ACCORDING TO HENRY’S MUM’S POST, BABY PENELOPE CAME OUT ROUGHLY THE SAME SIZE HENRY WAS WHEN HE WAS BORN. POOR Y/N

>>> @Y/nCavill: NO BECAUSE THIS IS TRUE, 38 HOURS OF PURE HARD LABOUR. Thankful for all the nurses, doctors, midwives and especially my bear of a husband who didn’t leave me alone once♥️

@/user823783: Fuck this family bullshit, when is Henry gonna back to our screens?!

>> @/HenryCavill: i’m sorry but I don’t tolerate anyone speaking about my family like that, a fan of mine wouldn’t speak of people I love like that. We want to live a peaceful life full of love, if you can’t respect that then i’m glad i’m not back to work yet. Family comes first.

@/HenryCavill: I love my wife @Y/nCavill and my gorgeous daughter Penelope, the exact double of me I must say (sorry babe) I also love the people who support me, and it hurts me to say that it’s a minority of you that seem to keep harassing my family. Please respect our lives, not only has our relationship been through enough, but our privacy has been violated more than enough times. Enough is enough.

>> @/jellyjumpbean: What sorta losers are still hating on them?! Can we please grow up and stop being delusional, the man is happy with his own family now. None of then deserve this abuse and especially not little Penelope who hasn’t even been here 5 minutes

@/Dcornarvel: Y/n is absolutely growing post pregnancy, you would never guess that she’s edging 30, Henry is one lucky man for real

>> @/HenryCavill: That I am. Thank you very much my friend ♥️

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @fdl305 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @aerangi @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @sparklemarysunshine @oliviah-25 @mischiefhasbeenmanaged @nikkitc0703 @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaaay @princess-paramour @stormcloudss @uwiuwi @marvelgurl @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @kebabgirl67 @athena-roy @tinyelfperson @madebylilly @dumb-fawkin-bitch @vrittivsanghavi @beck07990 @kimhtoo17 @thereisa8ella @pandaxnienke @marvelstarker-mha98

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fandom

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justagalwhowrites · 8 months

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New in Town - Ch. 7: First Double Date

You and Joel go out with Tommy and Maria. A continuation of New in Town chapters 1-6 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Smut. No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 5.5k

AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“I swear to God Joel, if you make fun of me…”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you, Beautiful.”

“Oh you say that now.”

“I’m really not,” he laughed a little.

“I did like… research and shit,” you said from the other side of your bathroom door. “I Googled, OK?”

“I’m sure you look incredible,” you could hear the smile in his voice. “Just come out here.”

You sighed.

“Fine.”

You knew you shouldn’t be nervous with Joel and, usually, you weren’t. But this felt a little different. You opened the bathroom door and came into your bedroom, doing a little spin as you did to show him both sides of the outfit. His face shifted from a smile to something almost hungry as he looked you up and down from his spot on the edge of your bed. He checked his watch.

“What?” You frowned.

“Just seein’ how much time we have until Tommy and Maria get here,” he said, looking back at you. “Think if we’re quick and leave that little skirt on…”

You laughed and all but jumped on his lap, kissing him.

You were going on your first double date with Joel, with his brother and sister-in-law of all people. You’d met Tommy and Maria at Sarah’s cookout a few weeks earlier but hadn’t seen them since. You had, however, heard plenty about them since then. Especially after Joel told you that his brother knew about the two of you.

Your eyes had gone wide when he’d told you that.

“Are you sure it was a good idea to tell him quite yet?” You asked. “We haven’t told Sarah and they’re pretty close…”

“Yeah, I didn’t… uh…” Joel awkwardly cupped the back of his neck. “Didn’t exactly… tell him.”

You frowned.

“What do you…”

“Maria… might have heard us in the bathroom at the cookout.”

“What!” You yelped, eyes wide. “Oh my GOD, Joel!”

“It’s fine…”

You groaned and collapsed all the way down onto his couch, burying your face in the arm of it.

“They must think I’m some kind of ridiculous slut!” Your voice was muffled by the cushion. “This is mortifying…”

“It’s really not that bad,” he rubbed your thigh soothingly. “Really. They like you! A lot! And they kept sayin’ they’d never seen me this happy. Honestly, Tommy was just happy to see me with someone I wanted to fuck in a bathroom.”

“Jesus Christ,” you groaned. “Well, it’s been great, Joel, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to change my name and move to Antarctica…”

He laughed and tugged you over until your head was on his shoulder instead of the couch.

“Sounds cold,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “I’ll have to find a coat.”

If you’d been falling for Joel before, you’d fully fallen for him over the past two weeks, ever since he’d found out everything about your childhood and your dad.

You’d almost expected him to look for an out once it all settled in. That, when all the baggage had been sitting there for long enough for him to take inventory of it all, he’d run.

But he hadn’t. He’d done the opposite. He spent that weekend holed up with you. Making you dinner, holding you close while watching Sharknado, changing the locks on your front door and installing a doorbell camera so you could see if he stopped by. He dropped you off at work Monday morning and picked you up that afternoon, heading straight to a car dealership after handing you a small pile of print outs. You frowned, looking at them.

“What…”

“So I took what I was asking you about cars over the weekend and found some good options for you,” he said. “Four of ‘em are at one dealership so I figured we could start there unless these are really not what you’re lookin’ for…”

You flipped through the pages, all cars that were makes and models you were already thinking about wanting to look at, just tracked down at places around you instead of an abstract thought in your head.

You teared up, a hand covering your mouth.

Joel frowned.

“We don’t have to do this today,” he said. “I don’t mind drivin’ you for a bit, happy to do it if you need a little more time or just aren’t up for it or…”

“No one’s ever done something like this for me,” you dabbed at the corners of your eyes, trying to keep the tears from actually falling and ruining your mascara.

“Told you I’ve got you, Beautiful,” Joel said. “Meant it.”

You ended up buying a car Tuesday, Joel not a fan of how the salesman you talked to at the first dealership seemed incapable of talking directly to you and instead looked at Joel when answering all your questions.

“That’s just how it is,” you shrugged as you headed back to his truck.

“Don’t matter,” Joel said, opening your door for you. “It’s bullshit. We can always come back if we come up empty but you shouldn’t give your money to that jackass.”

The second dealership had a saleswoman who would actually talk to you and not your boyfriend - boyfriend? - and ended up getting you a car with even nicer features than the one your dad had totaled for about the same price. You dropped Joel’s truck at your place and you drove the two of you to a restaurant you’d found on a local food blog, running your hand over the dashboard when at red lights.

“Happy with the car?” Joel asked, smiling almost proudly. It was one of the cars he’d found and printed the information on.

“It’s perfect,” you beamed at him. “Thank you so much for just… everything the past few days. This is the best I’ve ever felt after a visit from my dad.”

You were feeling pretty good on Wednesday when you got a Nest alert on your phone. Your dad was standing at your front door, trying the key he still had. You took a screenshot and texted Joel.

“Guess who,” you wrote. “Glad you changed the locks.”

He replied almost immediately.

“I’m staying over,” he said. “Got his parole officer’s number?”

When your dad came by that night and actually rang the bell, you stayed just out of sight, watching the reflection of what happened in a mirror on your entry way wall as Joel answered the door.

“Oh,” he said when he saw Joel. “I’m sorry, I must have misremembered the apartment…”

“You didn’t,” Joel said, his voice cold. “Know exactly who you are. You’re not welcome here. Come by again and I’m calling the cops and you’d better hope they get their hands on you before I do. She’s blocked your number.” He handed your dad a business card. “If it’s an emergency, you can call me but you’re stayin’ the fuck away from her. You had your chance, you blew it. Now go, before I make you go.”

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are or what my daughter’s told you…”

“I’m her boyfriend,” he snapped. “And she’s told me plenty. Was probably nicer than you deserved about it, too, knowing her. Last chance to leave on your own.”

Your dad was silent for a moment.

“Take care of her?” He said quietly.

“I will,” Joel said, tone softer. “Do a better job of it than you did.”

“Good,” he said. “Tell her bye for me.”

Joel closed the door and the second you could reach him you threw your arms around his neck, pressing your whole body against him. You kissed him, hard and frantic, tugging him back toward your bedroom as you did. You all but ripped his clothes off of him as you stripped down yourself, racing to get him inside you, not really able to calm down until he was.

“Fuck, Beautiful,” he groaned, his hands on your thighs as you straddled his hips, his cock deep inside. “What’s this for?”

“Needed you,” you said, dropping your forehead to his as you panted for breath.

You were sure you loved him then. You weren’t sure how to say it yet but you were sure you felt it.

Which is part of why you were really trying for this double date. You were in love with Joel, you wanted to impress his brother and sister-in-law. The two of you hadn’t really talked about it but, ever since he called himself your boyfriend to your father, that’s what he was. And you liked it that way. You wanted him to want to bring you places.

Including University of Texas football games.

Even though you knew fuck all about college football. You’d basically spent your entire college career studying or working, going to sporting events hadn’t been too high on your to do list.

So you’d done some research, looked up what people wore to things like college football games. You decided to go all out and settled on a denim mini-skirt, a v-neck University of Texas shirt, cowboy boots and little orange longhorn temporary tattoos on your cheeks.

“Wonderin’ if we should just cancel on them,” Joel kissed down your neck to your cleavage. “Look too good, don’t want to share you.”

“Yeah, we’re not canceling on your brother so you can get me naked,” you laughed a little. “But you can get me naked later.”

“Good luck stoppin’ me,” he nipped at your chin.

Your doorbell rang and Joel groaned, dropping his head to your chest.

“Tommy has always had terrible timing,” he sighed.

You laughed and got off his lap.

“C’mon you horn dog,” you teased. “Let’s go watch the sportsball.”

“One thing first,” he reached under your bed and pulled out a straw cowboy hat. “Thought you might need one of these to complete the look.”

You squealed and grabbed the hat, popping it on your head.

“How long has this been under my bed?” You gaped at him.

He smiled a little.

“Snuck it in the other day,” he said. “You’re a Texan now so you gotta have at least one.”

“I love it!” You looked in the mirror and adjusted it a little. “Thank you!”

You tipped it at him.

“How’s it look?”

He smiled.

“Beautiful. Just… Beautiful.”

Tommy’s truck was loaded down with coolers and a grill, your eyes going a little wide at it all.

“How many people are going to be there?” You asked Joel as you got in the back seat of the truck.

“It’s a tailgate,” he shrugged. “Can never tell.”

“Give Tommy an excuse to drink while grilling for a crowd and he’ll take it,” Maria smiled, twisting around in the front seat to actually face you. “Good to see you again!”

“You too!” You smiled, trying to resist the urge to jump out of the car when you thought about the fact that she heard you going down on Joel.

“I’m excited to have another woman around for this whole thing,” she smiled as Tommy started the truck. “They do this once a year and I swear it’s like they pack a whole season’s worth of football stuff into one day.”

“I keep tellin’ ya, get me season tickets and we’ll spread it out,” Tommy teased.

“You think I want to do this every weekend?” Maria asked, incredulous.

Tommy scoffed.

“Who wouldn’t?”

Maria gave you a look as if to say “See what I deal with?” And you smiled as Joel took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

You helped get the tailgate set up before settling into a folding camp chair with a beer next to Maria, the two of you watching as Joel and Tommy put meat on the grill, serious looks on their faces as they worked.

“So,” Maria smiled, taking a sip of beer. “You and Joel, huh?”

“Me and Joel,” you nodded, smiling a little back. “Not too insane, is it?”

“I mean, the circumstances might be a little odd but otherwise,” she shrugged. “He likes you.”

“I sure hope so,” you laughed, taking a drink of beer yourself and looking out at the crowd that was gathering to tailgate. The truck across from you was setting up a game of cornhole. Someone a few trucks down had started playing country music at top volume. “I’m a little fucked if he doesn’t at this point.”

She laughed, too.

“Look, I’ll be honest,” she said. “I know Joel better than most sisters-in-law probably care to know their brother-in-law. Him and Tommy… You marry one and you get the other, too. Package deal and all that.”

You nodded slowly, watching the two of them work while talking conspiratorially themselves.

“I’ve never, not once, seen him show this kind of interest in anyone,” she continued. “Honestly, Tommy and I figured he’d be single forever. Maybe a date here and there but… It never really seemed like a priority for him. He’s never even mentioned a woman before let alone brought her around.

“You seem to make him happy. Really happy. And I want to support him. But… I need to know that you’re in this for the long haul. That man doesn’t get attached lightly but he’s attached to you. Hell, he had me trying to interpret your texts a few weeks back, trying to make sure he didn’t fuck up…”

You winced.

“I was dealing with some family stuff,” you said. “I should have just talked to him about it from the get go and…”

“Hey, I get it,” she cut you off. “Not like you’d been seeing each other long, I wouldn’t have told some guy I’d just met anything all that personal, either. I just want to make sure you care, that you know he’s not just screwing around with you. Not that he’s said that but I know the guy. Tommy knows the guy. This is a first and I’d rather not watch his heart get stomped on.”

You looked at Joel. He was laughing at something Tommy said, his smile wide and beautiful. You couldn’t help but smile, too. Just looking at the guy made you happy.

“I’m in it,” you said, still watching him. “Trust me, I’m very in it.”

“Good,” Maria said. You thought you could hear the smile on her voice. “Because I really do need another girl around these two, they’re insufferable.”

Once the grill was going, Joel put his arms around your shoulders and led you around the tailgate. Tommy’s set up, you soon realized, was relatively modest. A few people had come with campers and had big TVs set up outside, chairs on rugs out front watching other games from around the country. The two of you stopped and played ladder ball with someone who worked with Joel, him smiling proudly as he introduced you as “his girlfriend,” making your heart soar. You even ran into one of your copywriters as he chugged a beer shirtless with an orange X painted on his chest.

“Oh shit, hey Boss!” He laughed. “Good to see you! Who’s your friend?”

“This is my boyfriend, Joel,” you smiled. It was the first time you’d gotten to say that. Joel beamed and the two shook hands. “Joel, this is Steve, one of the copywriters at work.”

“Want a beer?” Steve asked. “I’ll give you two if you promise to forget you saw me like this.”

You laughed back.

“Don’t worry, Steve,” you said. “I’ll be doing my best to forget that, anyway.”

“So not all these people are going to the game?” You asked as you walked slowly back toward Tommy’s truck. Joel’s arm was draped over your shoulders again.

“Nope,” Joel said. “People just come out to party. There’ll be a lot of people around the TVs later.”

“Football is weird,” you scrunched your nose and Joel laughed. “But I’ll still watch it with you.”

“Oh really?” He teased.

“Yup,” you smiled up at him. “But only because you’re hot.”

He laughed.

“Better get in the game time while I can, then.”

When you made it back to the truck, food was ready (“Still got a lot to learn about grilling a great burger, Tommy,” Joel teased his brother, who just rolled his eyes) and you and Joel lost at cornhole to Tommy and Maria.

“Do people really play stuff like that all the time?” You gaped at Tommy after he sent another bag directly into the hole on the opposite board. Yours were scattered on the ground around it.

“We’ve got a set in our backyard,” Tommy said after he punched the air in victory. “You and Joel will just have to practice, don’t know if he can handle me kicking his ass.”

By the time the game started, you’d almost forgotten that you’d come there to watch a football game, having so much fun in the parking lot outside that it seemed like the main attraction.

You tried to mimic how other people reacted to the events on the field, not really understanding any of it but having fun watching Joel have fun. It was about half way through the first quarter when Joel leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You don’t understand any of this, do you?” He asked.

You winced. You’d tried to watch some informational videos on YouTube and read some basic explainers of the game over the past week but it was like it was in a different language, you hadn’t been able to absorb any of it.

“Never had anyone to explain it to me as a kid and never hung out with anyone who was into it as an adult,” you replied. “So no, not a damn thing. But it’s still fun!”

“Here,” he put his hand on your waist and pointed toward the lineup of men on the field. “We’re on offense right now, that means we’re trying to score and we’ve got the ball. It’s second and eight…”

Joel kindly, patiently, walked you through the basics, going back over things when he could tell you were confused or had forgotten something when it happened on the field.

“It’s really OK,” you said after a few minutes. “I don’t want you to spend all the time you’re supposed to be having fun talking to me…”

“Talking to you is fun,” he replied. “I’d rather talk to you all the time than watch any game. And I want you to have fun, too. Which I know you won’t if you don’t understand what’s going on because you feel better when you know things.”

You looked up at him, at his warm smile and soft eyes and the one curl that had broken away from the rest to start curving over his forehead, and you couldn’t help it. For a moment, the feeling overwhelmed you and it just spilled out of you before you could stop it.

“I love you,” you said before you realized you said it.

Then your eyes went wide and your face fell and you scrambled to take it back. It was too soon to be saying this to him, you’d only known the man a few weeks and things were still insanely complicated, you’d barely figured out that you were in a full blown relationship let alone ready to bring something like love into the mix. It didn’t matter that you felt it and that you wanted to say it, it wasn’t the right time yet.

“Shit. Ignore that, please ignore that, pretend I didn’t say anything, I don’t want…”

“I love you, too,” he cut you off, smiling so big his whole face lit up with it.

You just blinked at him for a moment.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “Yeah, I do. I really, really do.”

He tipped your hat up and kissed you, his arm sliding around you to pull you flush against his front. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding tight to him, never wanting to stop feeling just like this.

“Look!” Maria patted your shoulder urgently. “You’re on the kiss cam!”

You pulled away from Joel just in time to see yourselves on the giant screen and you laughed, going back to kiss him again.

***

“I’m glad you two seem to have figured your shit out,” Tommy had told him while they set up the grill. “She really does seem great.”

“She is,” Joel said, watching you talk with Maria, looking so damn pretty in your little skirt and boots. “Fuck, she’s incredible.”

“Anyone who can actually get you to feel something is a winner in my book,” Tommy replied, hooking up the propane tank. “Not sure what’s thicker, your skull or the space around your heart.”

Joel laughed but he knew his brother had a point. He hadn’t been in a relationship - a real one - in a very long time. It had been even longer since he’d felt anything close to this for anyone. He’d gone from falling in love with you to just being in love with you and it had happened so quickly it was hard for him to even see it at first.

He’d just known it when your father had shown up at your door that day. Joel knew what he was after - some other way to manipulate you, he was sure - and it made his blood boil. He had to consciously stop himself from hitting the man. The only reason he didn’t was because he knew it would hurt you if he did. But he knew he had to protect you, had to be the one standing in between you and the man who’d done nothing but neglect and harm you your entire life.

His whole body burned with it. He wished he could have gone back in time somehow and protected you then, too. Made it so you didn’t have to go through any of it and stand between you and anyone who had ever so much as looked at you wrong. None of them deserved you. Neither did he, for that matter, but he could at least protect you from the worst of them.

He knew he loved you then. He couldn’t conceive of how anyone could look at you and do anything that would willfully hurt you, how anyone could look at you and see anything but one of the greatest things the world had ever let happen.

But he didn’t want to scare you off, so he kept it to himself, instead just doing everything he could to take care of you, get you to spend some time with him.

It turned out, he didn’t need to try that hard. It seemed like you were just as eager to see him as he was to see you.

You texted him over lunch on a day you were working from home, a picture of all the makings for mac and cheese and a BluRay of Jupiter Ascending, a movie Joel had heard was laughably bad and he’d been meaning to watch at some point.

“Your place or mine?” You asked.

Joel smiled.

“Wherever you are, Beautiful, I’ll be there.”

You asked to come to his place so you could actually get out of your house for a bit and you showed up not long after Joel had gotten out of the shower, a pan of macaroni and cheese ready to go in the oven and a grocery bag over your arm with all the fixings for Bloody Marys.

“I. Found. Bacon. Vodka,” your eyes were wide and excited. “It’s going to be amazing!”

You were right, it was amazing. Everything with you was amazing.

Because he loved you.

“You told her yet?” Tommy asked as they say next to each other on the gate of his truck during lunch.

“Told who what?” Joel asked, looking down at his phone for the umpteenth time since his lunch break started. You’d texted him a picture of a rather pathetic looking sandwich.

“This food truck’s a bust,” you said. “Feeling very let down. I require real food. Dinner?”

Joel was about to type out a response when you sent a selfie from what had to be a bathroom stall at your office, your shirt unbuttoned an extra button from what it had been when you’d gone your separate ways that morning.

“In case you needed motivation,” you wrote.

“Tell your girlfriend that you’re in love with her,” Tommy said.

Joel frowned and actually looked up from his phone.

“I didn’t…”

“Don’t need to say it,” Tommy clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m not blind and I might not be a genius but I ain’t that dumb. You’ve got it bad.”

Joel glared at him for a second.

“S’too early,” he muttered. “Don’t wanna scare her off.”

“You’re practically living with this woman,” he said. “She brought steak to your house the other night. Besides the blip, what’s the longest you’ve gone without seeing her since you started dating?”

Joel was happy that, after the mall incident, Tommy was understanding without Joel needing to be too specific about what happened with your father. He’d just told Tommy “It was a tough family thing, makes our shit look like child’s play.” Tommy just said “Damn, poor girl, shit’s rough” and had only ever called it “the blip” from then on.

“Just a work day, really,” Joel said.

“Don’t think it’s too early for shit, man,” Tommy said. “Just don’t fuck it up. And figure out how to tell your kid because I’m shit at keeping secrets.”

Joel sighed and nodded to his brother before texting you back.

“Never need much motivation with you,” he said. “Can’t let you starve on me. Come over, I’ll grill you a burger.”

When you fell asleep naked in his bed that night, he just watched you breathe, wondering how to tell you how he felt and how to tell his daughter that he was head over heels for her best friend.

So when you’d all but blurted it out at him at the game, it was a relief. He’d been terrified it would slip out of him for almost two weeks now. That he’d hand you something, you’d say “thank you” and, instead of “you’re welcome” he’d say “I love you.” That he’d kiss you on the way out the door in the morning and instead of “goodbye” it would be “I love you.” That he’d be looking at your perfect face as you rode him and he’d gasp “I love you” as he came deep inside.

It was a relief to know you felt it, too. It was a relief to say it out loud. It was a relief to feel the sense of security that settled into him at those words, the sense that this wasn’t something that would be easily undone. That this was something he could be safe in feeling, that he could rely on the connection he had with you that had gone from tenuous to vital so fast it made his head spin.

The rest of the game, he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. You were either perched on his leg or standing right in front of him for the rest of the game, his hands on your waist, pressing his lips into your neck and cheek, each kiss just another “I love you” in his mind. He couldn’t even tell you the score by the end of the game, only knowing that UT won because everyone else around them seemed almost as happy as he was.

Joel was eager to say his goodbyes to Tommy and Maria when they dropped the two of you off at your apartment. It’s not like he didn’t always want you - he always wanted you - but it was urgent now, a driving need more than a want.

You, it seemed, were on the same wavelength. The front door was barely closed when you took fistfuls of his shirt and pulled him against you, kissing him deeply as you walked backwards deeper into your home.

He pulled your hat off first, tossing it on your loveseat on the way back to your bedroom. You went from using his shirt to hold him close to tugging it up and over his head as he did the same with yours.

In the bedroom, you turned so he was against the bed as you deftly opened his pants and pushed them and his boxer briefs down and off. You nudged him down onto the bed and looked him in the eyes as you slipped your panties down your legs, leaving on the little miniskirt that Joel had so wanted to fuck you in before the game.

You straddled him, your arms resting on his shoulders, his hands on your back, fingers spread wide to touch as much of you as he could. He slowly, almost reverently, removed your bra, cupping your breasts for a moment before holding onto you again. You aligned your entrance with his cock, the head of him just inside of you.

He held your gaze, his nose brushing yours, breathing the same air you were. He looked deep in your eyes as you started sinking onto him, your breath hitching as you did.

“I love you,” he breathed, mouth so close to yours his lips brushed your own when he spoke.

“Joel,” you managed, your body soft and warm against him as you took him into yourself. “I love you, I…”

You gasped as he bottomed out within you and he clutched onto you, needing to be as close to you as he could possibly be.

The two of you just looked at each other for a moment, your skin on his, his cock buried deep within you.

He realized then that he’d never been inside someone he was in love with before you. He’d tried with Sarah’s mother but her resentment kept any real affection from becoming too deep. Everything before her has been for fun, he hadn’t been looking for anything permanent. No relationship had lasted long enough to actually fall for anyone since.

It was an intense thing, knowing you loved him back while being a part of you. You always felt incredible, better than anything or anyone else he’d ever felt, but it was different now and he never wanted to be anywhere but with you.

You took a deep, shaky breath before rising slowly over him. He could feel every inch of you, the tight grip of every ridge, the wet heat of you holding him perfectly inside. He kissed you as you started to ride him, moaning into your mouth, sinking his fingers into your soft skin.

Your skirt bunched around your hips and you ground your clit against him and he relished it, loving the feeling of you finding your pleasure with his body.

He met you stroke for stroke until you came over him with a whimper, kissing him deeper, pussy gushing over his cock.

Joel moved you below him, settling between your thighs, his body still tight to yours for a moment before he separated from you.

“Joel,” you whimpered, breasts heaving. He slid a hand up your stomach, drinking you in, eyes lingering on the place disappeared into you, your sex swollen and slick.

“Want to see you,” he panted, moving his hands to the inside of your knees, slipping them over your thighs until one thumb found your clit and the other slipped around your hip to your lower back, your sexy little skirt pushed up around your waist now. “Want to see you come for me.”

He started driving into you, pulling back almost reluctantly to thrust back as deep as he could reach, watching it move through your body, the ripple of your skin, the bounce of your breasts, the desperate look on your face as he worked your clit, your channel tightening around him.

“That’s it,” he panted as you ground your hips back against him when he thrust deep. “Are you close, Beautiful? That perfect little pussy about to come for me?”

You nodded and moaned, one of your hands flying to the bed and tangling in the blanket.

“Good,” he said, all but breathless. “Need you to come all over me, need to feel you come, need to watch you come. Just let go baby, just come for me.”

He watched your orgasm take hold half a second before he felt it, your face lost in pleasure, your clit throbbing as he felt you come apart around his cock.

Joel fought to hold his own orgasm off for at least moment, wanting to enjoy your pleasure for as long as he could. But he didn’t last long, thrusting deep and all but collapsing on top of you as the peak of your climax triggered his own.

Once he’d come down from his high enough to be able to think, he rolled onto his side and took you with him, still buried deep in you, kissing you gently as he held your face in his hand.

“I love you, Joel,” you said softly. “I’ve never really said that to anybody but I love you.”

“I love you,” he said, letting the feeling wash over him as he was so impossibly close to you. “I love you so much.”

As he fell asleep in your bed with you in his arms, he wasn’t sure he’d ever meant anything more.

Next Chapter

A/N: AHHHH THEY SAID IT!

I just love these two, they're so cute working through their relationship shit. They're getting there, they really are!

Thank you for being here and for following their story. It's been so fun to share with you! Love you!!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #smut fic #joel miller smut #new in town

279 notes · View notes

writtenontheport · 10 months

Text

Just a Morning at Portland Row

pt.2 : Just an Afternoon at Portland Row

Finale: Just a Night at Portland Row

Anthony Lockwood x (gn) Reader

Warnings/Tags: Nothing, just a lot of romcom cheese, Pining, Idiots in Love, Lockwood and Reader don’t really interact in this much, but they do, just not directly, George and Reader friendship, Lucy and Lockwood Friendship, George and Lucy being the lomls

Notes: George being silly, Lockwood doesn’t actually show up until after the cut, Lucy being the loml and being silly, might do a part 2 if I feel like it, sorry if they’re a bit ooc, I haven’t actually written in a while so I might be rusty.

Summary: You don’t live at 35 Portland Row, but you visit daily. Some part of you might be able to make the excuse that you’re doing it simply to make sure your longest childhood friend doesn’t die of self-neglect, but your better majority, and unsurprisingly George Karim and Lucy Carlyle, know better than that.

Word count: 1.6k+

The sound of a whistling kettle flits down the hall, and you quickly pull it off the stove. You listen for a moment telltale footsteps creaking around 35 Portland Row, and are relieved when only silence calls back. It’s too early in the morning for any of them to be awake, if what Lockwood had told you yesterday about another case was true. It seemed so when nobody came down to check on the kettle, and long after, you’d made your tea and settled down on the dining table. You ran your hands over the thinking cloth, pressing on the spaces between the ink and hovering gently where there was any. George’s caricatures of the other two made you giggle, and Lucy’s sarcastic comments tickled you funny. Lockwood’s was especially interesting, because he would write to you as if he was sure you would be reading it.

‘bread in the bread bin about to go bad, try not to eat it’ He’d written, right beside where he’d carefully written your name. The ink on this one was new, so you know he wrote it recently. A chuckle works its way out of you, and you fish a pen from somewhere on the table to write, ‘threw it out already, got you a new loaf’.

You’d always reply to Lockwood wherever and whenever he addressed you, and you wondered if he did it because his fleeting subconscious brought you up like yours did him. A smile wiggled its way to your lips, and you pulled your shoulders back to look down at the cloth.

“You’re already here,” someone said sleepily, the voice familiar as his handwriting. Looking up you spot George sleepily yawning, a palm to his eye and his glasses in his other hand. “Did you make yourself some tea already?”

“I did, might need to put on the kettle again, though. How are you already awake? Lockwood told me you lot were on a case last night somewhere far.” You pulled out of your seat just as George pulled into his, sleepily resting against the thinking cloth.

“He and Lucy dealt with it, as far as I know they came back after I fell asleep,” He said, tapering off into another, shorter, yawn. His curly hair was all over, and he had forgone his trousers again, but you weren’t one to tell him off for it. Often Lockwood would liken it to geniuses and their ‘weird habits’, George being the brains of the agency and all that.

“I saw their coats by the door this morning, dripping all over the floor,” George scoffed at that, picking his head up off the table just to thump it back down, “I mopped it up though, no need to worry.”

He looked grateful, especially as you pushed him a cup of hot tea and a donut.

“Lockwood should marry you for how much you pick up after him alone, at this point. Never mind all the times you guys act like you’re already basically married,” He’d said. Casual as he might have been, you find yourself choking on air.

“It’s not like that,” you cough, brows furrowing as George gives you an exasperated frown, “Come off it, it’s not like that. I doubt he’d… y’know.”

He rolls his eyes and tears off a chunk of donut; you take the out when he chooses to say nothing more. Changing the subject is easy with George, but he often makes pointed statements— when he notices something, he just has to say it.

“You brought some more flowers today, yeah? Are the red carnations for Lockwood?” He’d asked, sipping on his tea, more awake than before. As he ate you’d been rushing about the kitchen cleaning up what you could, so you close the cupboard just as he adds, “Do you reckon he’ll pick up on it this time?”

You freeze where you’re pulling a chair out for yourself, worrying your lip between your teeth. “He hasn’t before. I just… I don’t think he will. Get it, I mean. I just— I don’t know. What do you think, George?”

He hums at you, and shuffles to give you a quick pat on your shoulder. “I think you should just tell him at this point. He’s either being intentionally dense or is just being stupid about it.”

“Has he…” you gesture lamely with your hand, arm propped up on your elbow before you slump back in your seat, “Has he said anything about… maybe, liking me back?”

“He doesn’t need to, he makes it clear enough anyways. He’s always banging on about you,” He says, clearly frustrated. You give him a pointed look he doesn’t break, unimpressed as he always is. You sigh. It’s frustrating, but you know George wouldn’t say anything that wasn’t objectively the truth. “Whatever happens, if you do tell him, it’s not going to be as bad as you think.”

You sit in silence for a while after that, George scribbling on the thinking cloth as the seconds pass on by. An hour into your visit, you pull yourself up and out of your chair and head for the front.

“Tell Lucy and Anthony I said hi, please, George. I’ll be heading off now,” You say from the kitchen doorway, he nods your way with a wave, focused on the thinking cloth.

“Do you want me to tell him—“

“No, thank you, George,” You hissed, cutting him off. A grin finds its way on George’s face just as you run off.

An hour later, Lockwood finds himself in the kitchen just as Lucy’s finishing up her breakfast. George had woken up way earlier and had likely dove back into his research if his absence meant anything; you had been gone for an hour as Lockwood passes the doorway. Lucy’s grin turns teasing and Lockwood slumps into his chair.

“Did you see them before they left?” He asks Lucy, who hums a ‘no’ with a knowing grin as she sets down the papers. She reaches over to his side of the table, tapping on the cloth, before pulling the papers back up to her nose.

Pouring himself a quick cup of tea, Lockwood settles down to find where you’d earlier written ‘threw it out already, got you a new loaf’ and smiles. His hand traces reverently along the curves and lines of your inking, and can’t help his chuckle at the little smiley face at the end.

“What’d they say today?” Lucy asks, folding up her paper and propping up her elbows. Her teasing grin hasn’t once dropped.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He quips, pulling his shoulders back. Lucy doesn’t look willing to let up, wholly bemused.

“I bet you it’s something not at all even funny enough for you look as giddy as you do,” She grins, rushing out of her chair to read it before Lockwood can cover it up. Her jaw drops when she finds it, turning to Lockwood, who’d turned away and refused to meet her eyes.

“Look at you—“ She starts.

“Stop—“

“Giddy over the fact they went and fetched us bread?” Lucy gasps, wholeheartedly teasing Lockwood as he fumbles for words. Oh, if only you were here so she could do the same to you. “Like a schoolboy, you are, yeah?”

“Lucy,” he groans, hiding his face in his hands as he dumps his head on the table, “It’s not like that— I just. It’s a kind gesture, alright?”

“George makes us dinner everyday but you don’t kick your feet and giggle when he writes to you on the thinking cloth do you?” She goads, relishing in the way Lockwood looks up to glare.

“George calls me a dick when he writes to me on the thinking cloth,” He pauses just as your name runs out his mouth, frown softening, “They wouldn’t do that.”

Lucy rolls her eyes as she stands up, bringing her cup to the sink. Her hair is combed, but she’s still in pyjamas, so it’s likely she’s just woken up too. Lockwood reckons she hadn’t caught your visit, but he asks anyways. Lucy shakes her head just as she settles back down in her chair.

“Ask George, he probably woke up early enough.” She takes a generous bite out of her toast, the crunch of it waking Lockwood up. Last night had been exhausting, but luckily they’d gotten it under wraps. Lucy headed straight up to bed when they got home, but Lockwood had stopped by the kitchen to write you a note on the cloth just before he scrambled up the stairs to his room and passed out in his bed. George had been quiet when they got back, so Lucy was most likely right. Lucy shoves a plate of cheese on toast his way, and he takes it gratefully.

“I’ll just ask him later,” He says around a mouth full of toast. “Have you seen George today, actually?”

Lucy’s grin widens into something mischievous and cheshire, but she tucks it in quickly and simply hums an affirmative. Lockwood narrows his eyes at her, and she looks away.

“Whatever you two talked about—“

“Nothing!” She cut in, holding her hands up. “George says they left you flowers though, red carnations.”

Lockwood feels his breath escape him at the thought— you bringing him flowers? Damn his sleep schedule, he would have woken early just to see you give them yourself if he’d known. The thought of you and your care for him leaves him warm and defenceless; vulnerable in all the ways only you can make him. It’s so so sweet it has him pushing a hand on his lips to stop his grin from splitting his whole face open.

“God,” Lucy laughs, watching him with unfettered amusement, “You—“

“Where did George put them?” He cuts her off, earning a laugh at the grin he can’t hold back. Some part of him wants to make the excuse that he’s this happy and giddy because of how kind a gesture it is, but more than a majority of him knows that’s just not true.

When Lockwood finds the flowers in the library, he knows even in the deepest recesses of his denial and ache, that it’s not the kind gesture leaving him helplessly lost in love with you. Now if only he could find a way to admit that to your face.

A/N: Sorry if this isn’t the best, kinda just let my brain write and lightly edited it after.

#anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x you #Portie writes fanfic

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vesarcanus-if · 1 year

Text

Demo: 9/6/23

Your parents are the biggest Vampire mobsters in Vas Arcanus and are the heads of the notorious Florentia Family. On your 25th birthday, your parents gift you with an important role in the family: running Blood Bank, their nightclub and base of operations. Unfortunately, a few years ago your first love, a burlesque dancer at Blood Bank, was murdered. The culprit was never found …supposedly. With your new position within the Ves Arcanus Underground, maybe you can finally find answers and serve justice or revenge.

In the city of Ves Arcanus, you’ll encounter Supernaturals of several different species and work alongside the most powerful families in organized crime: the Arcanus Six. The Six includes the Florentia Family, the Lombardi Family, the Seth Family, the De Mevius Family, the Sundale Family, and the Vatura Family.

Demo Features:

Play as male, female, nonbinary, or transgender; gay, straight, or bisexual.

Navigate organized crime within the Ves Arcanus Underground, and maintain the Florentia’s infamous reputation or run it into the ground.

Work to solve the “cold case” murder of your first love and choose to be judge, jury, or executioner.

Run a popular Vampire nightclub and keep the cops, and your rivals, from sniffing around.

Play as a Vampire in a city inhabited by Faeries, Selkies, Witches, Demons, and humans.

Romance or befriend one of the six gender-selectable RO’s and choose to hook up* with seven of the many side characters

Content Warnings (18+): drug and alcohol use, violence, blood, strong language, optional explicit sexual content, death/murder

Lisa/Leon Whitlock, 27- Faerie

A young director who got lucky and stayed lucky, Whitlock could be your way into important Faerie circles. They’re fun, sweet, and adventurous enough to sneak around with you given the right motivation. Like all artists, they’re unpredictable and don’t seem quite ready to settle down yet.

Alessia/Alessandro “Ale” Lombardi, 30- Vampire

The eldest child and former heir of the Lombardi Family, Ale is no stranger to crime, intimidation, and violence. They’ve used their family’s influence to fund a political career and leave mob life behind, supposedly. They take some time to warm up but are a loyal friend and lover once they do.

Charlotte/Charles “Charlie” Cole, 35- Cambion

After a rough childhood, Charlie became a cop to help troubled youth like them. They don’t love being a cop, but they feel it’s the best way they can help kids. Charlie has turned their life around, but maybe you can persuade them to break the rules for you.

Serafina/Sero De Mevius, 24- Witch

A spoiled rich kid with an Ivy league education, De Mevius isn’t like most mobsters you know. They have an air of mystery and don’t really seem to care about upholding their family’s name. They love to spend their dads’ money on parties, charities, and maybe on you too.

Dion Parker, 25- Dragonkin (half dragon/half human)

Your friend since high school, Dion is just along for the ride as you look for answers. Whether they agree with your methods, Dion sticks around to hopefully keep you out of trouble. Your parents trust them to keep books at the club so they’re always nearby.

Eliana/Elio “El” Rivera, 28- Unknown

El will do most anything for a story, especially when it keeps them alive and out of jail. They are fearless and stubborn as a bull, but that may be a front to hide how alone they feel in Ves Arcanus. El has eyes and ears everywhere in Ves Arcanus, but can you get close enough to learn their secrets?

Sam (they/them) early 20s, Witch*

Tall, lean with some muscle, very short curly brown hair, warm brown skin with vitiligo | A Kitchen Witch from a civilian family on the outskirts of Ves Arcanus.

Jewels (she/her) mid 20s, Fastus (Pride Demon)*

Short, curvaceous, waist length straight black hair, honey brown skin (Indian) | One of Lamia’s top spies.

Tisa (he/him) early 30s, Faerie*

Moderate height, muscular, buzzcut black hair and stubble, light tan skin (Korean) | Lives in Neráida Forest, a friend of Alvina Sundale.

Vance (he/him) late 20s, Vampire*

Somewhat tall, some muscles, short black hair usually slicked back, olive skin | A regular at Blood Bank, he’s had a crush on you for years.

Lamia (she/her) mid 50s, Succubus*

Short, slim, shoulder length blonde hair, pale skin | Former head of the Seth Family, now the most infamous spymistress in Ves Arcanus.

Honey (she/they, transfem) late 30s, Faerie*

Tall, lithe but curvy, long brown hair, tan skin (Brazilian) | Lives in an apartment not far from Neráida Forest.

Jennifer/Jensen Albright (gender selectable) 25, Dhampir*

Long/short black hair, fair skin, septum piercing | Your Right Hand as the Florentia Family heir.

Jeanette Heart, mid 40’s, Vampire

Moderate height, fair skin, shoulder length blonde hair, brown eyes | Your therapist last for the 3 years.

Sebastian De Mevius, 24, Witch

Tall, curly dark brown hair, light brown skin, brown eyes | S. De Mevius’ twin brother and De Mevius Family heir.

Billy Marston, early 50’s, Demon

Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, stubble | El’s editor.

Georgina, mid 20’s, Vampire

Average height, blonde hair, grey eyes | Bartender at Blood Bank.

#interactive fiction #twine if #twine game #if wip #interactive novel #blood bank #ves arcanus #intro #gender selectable #announcements #dev log

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gibuckaroo · 3 months

Text

i’ve been toying with the idea of a time travelling buck fic recently, and this whole business with i love you to the core is playing with my feelings because then,

i can imagine an older buck, probably 35, definitely more settled and comfortable and secure and because he can’t really control where he goes (or maybe he does, doesn’t matter yet) he finds himself with an 8 year old evan. and he’s bruised up with scrapes on his knees and it’s the fifth time this month and it’s been a year since he found out he can somehow gain his parents’ attention this way, but lately it doesn’t feel as good. the pizzas they would buy him, the ice creams after, the smile his mom would give him. it’s not worth all the blood and scratches, at least not all the time. he’s just a kid and he’s needy, he’ll get what he can.

but buck travels to this specific time, to this specific version of himself and he hasn’t time travelled yet, no, so young evan doesn’t know it’s him, but he remembers. he remembers as 8 year old evan how 35 year old buck comes to him, and now he’s that buck. and he feels overwhelmed. he feels like he could drown, but he won’t because he can save himself.

so he lets himself sit beside evan on the curb next to their house. he lets the kid talk his ear off about a new bike, and when he asks about his bloody knee, evan looks down ashamed. but he knows, and he’s prepared so he brings out a gauze and a cream he found much much later on that works so amazing on him. and the kid looks up at him grateful and he can see the doubt, the insecurity, the questions of why he was even here and he can’t wait for him to know that someday, someone’s going to love him to the core. someone’s going to know him deep down on what makes him him and they’re going to love him. all of him, all of the parts he thinks are too much, all of the parts he thinks are defective—he’s still going to love you, evan. love us.

#911 abc #shitumblrtag #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #yes i am not normal about this !!!!#LET ME GO #I LOVE YOU TO THE CORE #buddie au #somewhat #young evan and older buck you will always be dear to me

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twilghtkoo · 1 year

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hiiiii!!!! how are you? sooooo i don't know if u are taking requests but could u write abt s/o being a sooooo excited for the last of us series and haechan not being aware of it with the prompt 35????

love foolish

pairings. haechan x (f) reader

genre. fluff

warnings. mentions of guns and zombies

prompts. #35 “i thought you dont’t like horror games?”

note. i love this request!!!! i also freaking love the last of us, game and tv series :D i’m doing ok anon ty for asking,, i hope u enjoy this and take care <33

prompt list | series masterlist | taglist

—

haechan is sprawled out on the couch after taking a shower, occupying all the space. he’s mindlessly on his phone, tapping away in the group chat with his older members. you’re finishing up your night time skin care routine, applying your cherry flavored chapstick to your dry lips.

curse the cold weather.

you turn the light off and exit the bathroom as you make your way down the hall to the living room. haechan senses you in the corner of his eyes, turning his head to look at you.

“so sexy.” he dreamily says, eyeing you up and down as you slide your feet over towards him. you’re dressed in your usual night attire, sweats and one of his t-shirts.

smirking, you poke your ass at him, immediately regretting it when his hand makes contact with your cheek.

you hiss in pain, pouting as your rub the stinging area, turning around to do the same to him but he manages to reach over and soothingly rub your ass.

“sorry bubs,” he sheepishly smiles.

you nudge his leg with your knee. “scoot over.”

he frowns, “lie on top of me.”

you sigh, even though you know that’s what you’d end up doing anyways.

you grab your tv remote before settling yourself on top of haechan’s chest, the top of your head in the crook of his neck. one of his arms are lazily wrapped around your waist and your legs entangled with his underneath your throw blanket.

“so what’re we watching again?” he questions.

you’re trying to find the app on your home screen, you had recently bought the hbo app for your tv, solely for the purpose of the most anticipated show that came out last night that you’ve been waiting for for years. purposely ignoring your phone for any spoilers because people like you– except they’re not late– have watched it on the release date.

but you and haechan haven’t watched anything that’s new, together, so you had brought up you wanted to watch something with him tonight. since, yesterday he was busy with his friends back home.

“the last of us, it came out last night and i’m so fucking excited. it’s a post-apocalyptic survival show based off of the video game.” you excitedly, explained to him.

you finally find the app, clicking on it as you patiently wait for it to load.

“ohh, really? is it like a horror game? zombies and guns?”

you nod, “yeah, it’s a horror game. zombies and guns, yes. and there’s also clickers which is the scariest of the infected. i really hate the sound they make, you’ll see soon.”

“i thought you don’t like horror games?”

you hum, “i don’t. but i saw this youtuber that came up on my recommendation play it and then an hour later i ended up watching an entire gameplay of both the first and second game an entire night.” you laugh to yourself.

haechan gasps, “wahh, why have you never told me this?” haechan knows you have a dislike towards scary video games, but strongly more playing them than watching them.

you shrug your shoulders, “this was before i had met you. i won’t play the game though, only watch it. i’d watch you play it though if you ever play it.”

he takes a mental note. you seem to be very interested in this television adaption of a video game. so he has to look up how he can play the game later on.

“i’m excited.” haechan admits softly.

“me too.” you press play, dropping the remote on the floor in arms reach and getting cozy on top of your boyfriend as the episode starts playing.

“so? what’d you think?” you eagerly ask, sitting up on his waist in a straddling position while he’s still lying down. wanting to hear about haechan’s review on your show. you had brought this show up to haechan, knowing he’s into these kinds of shows, but anxious that he won’t enjoy since it’s an american show in english.

“even though it was just the first episode, i’m hooked. i enjoyed it baby.” he tells you honestly, smiling.

you squeal, “me too! now we have to wait a whole week.” you let out a fake sob, plopping your upper half onto haechan’s chest.

“if you got infected i would let you bite me so we can both be zombies.”

you frown, raising your head up to rest your chin on his chest. “but then we’d have no memory of each other.”

he pouts too, “oh yeah. then, you go down, i go down.” the emotional scenes from the first episode are hitting you again and haechan seems to notice so he changes the topic.

“sunday we should order pizza while watching it.” he suggests, fiddling with your soft hands.

“sundays?” you hold up your pinky in front of his face.

“sundays.” he promises.

—

taglist! @neosdaisy @m_1kaellUh @n0hyuck @matchahyuck send an ask or message to be removed :) or fill out the google form to be added !

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kezzzx · 4 months

Note

For the wesper writing prompts, can you do #8 (shielding the other with their body) and/or #35 (kissing scars/bruises)? Thank you!!

Hello there! Thank you for playing! I just did a bit of 35 in my last one, so here is 8 for you!

8. shielding the other with their body

It should’ve been easy. Get into the warehouse by the docks, locate the barrels of red phosphorus destined for the Razorgulls and their new demo guy, load them into the wagon Rotty has waiting round the back and get out of there.

But it’s never fucking easy. Someone talked, or someone overheard something, a whisper, a murmur, and they’re only just starting to load up the barrels when a group of Razorgulls emerge from the shadows.

Jesper’s just glad that for once it isn’t his fault.

They’re vastly outnumbered though, just him, Wylan and Matthias against at least ten Razorgulls, maybe more still lurking somewhere. Jesper manages to take two out when the fighting begins, and Matthias another. Wylan shouts a warning, and Jesper has just enough time to duck for cover and shield his eyes before there’s an explosion and a blinding flash of light. It gives them time to hide amongst the stacks of crates and barrels in the warehouse, but so do the Razorgulls. The acrid smell of the phosphorus from Wylan’s bomb combined with the salty tang of the sea air is enough to make Jesper’s eyes water, and he swipes the back of his hand across his eyes, squinting through the clearing smoke to try and make out any signs of movement.

Wylan is to his left, crouched behind a stack of boxes by the stairs that lead up to a wooden walkway around the perimeter of the warehouse and connect to another doorway, presumably an office of some kind. The wood looks old and damp from the proximity to the sea, Jesper’s not sure he’d want to risk putting his weight onto the steps, but Wylan is well hidden like this.

On Jesper’s right is Matthias, his hulking frame just about visible from this angle. Movement catches Jesper’s eye, and he squeezes off a shot, reaching out with his power to guide the bullet where he wants it to go. There’s a yelp and the sound of a body hitting the floor, and then the fighting starts again. Everything narrows down to the weight of his revolvers in his hands, the zing of bullets, the blaze of an explosion. Matthias is out of ammo, wrestling with two men at once. Jesper manages to take one down before he’s caught off guard by a sound behind him, almost ending up with a bullet through his skull but saved by Wylan throwing a vial of some kind of acid directly into his attacker’s eyes. Wylan ducks back into his hiding place as soon as he knows Jesper is okay, until the only Razorgull standing is the stubborn bastard grappling with Matthias.

With a final shove, Matthias sends him flying, directly into the wooden support beams of the walkway with a sickening crunch. Jesper looks up from the crumpled body as the rotting wood creaks and starts to splinter, the walkway peeling away from the wall and swaying. The walkway under which Wylan is hiding, rooted to the spot.

Jesper doesn’t think, he just throws himself at Wylan, drags him as far away as he can and then down, down onto the floor, covering him with his own body as the entire walkway comes crashing down around them.

When the debris settles, Wylan is blinking up at him, wide-eyed and terrified, face streaked with dirt.

“Jes,” he croaks, then coughs at the dust lodged in his throat. “Saints, are you alright?”

Jesper kneels back, brushes off the worst of the dirt. “Yeah, I think so.” He helps Wylan up into a sitting position. “Maybe a little bruised.”

“Wylan, sorry!” Matthias calls, picking his way through the rubble towards them. “I did not think that would happen.” He offers them both a hand and pulls them back to their feet.

“It’s fine, we’re okay,” says Wylan, taking Jesper’s hand firmly in his own and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

Jesper pulls him in close with an arm around his shoulders, kisses his dusty forehead. “Come on, let’s get out of here before the Stadwatch arrives.”

#six of crows #shadow and bone #wesper #fanfiction #jesper fahey #wylan van eck

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thana-topsy · 11 months

Note

hi!! 35 or 49 for elenwen/tullius? they’re fucked up and intriguing and I’ve seen a lot of art for them from one artist but I’m curious how you’d write them. thank you!!!

Y'know, I'm with you. This ship is very intriguing and has a certain allure to it. This one is definitely on the raunchier side compared to the rest, but I tried to keep the language vague enough for tumblr standards. Thanks for the suggestion!!

---

Elenwen x Tullius "A kiss out of necessity." (599 words)

It was a necessary evil, he reminded himself.

War itself was little more than a necessary evil upon which the axis of the world spun. The threat of destruction, sweetened by the promise of an end to it all. If war could end, he was sure it would have ended by now. Every day, as new recruits marched into Solitude, young men and women, pink and callow, he signed their lives over to the cause. He could not read their names, his eyes glazing over the myriad lists with practiced detachment, but he did look into their eyes, finding optimism, righteousness. He prayed the volunteers would continue to trickle in, as drafted soldiers carried no such spark behind their eyes.

A necessary evil.

The gold skins that patrolled the roads were ghosts haunting his steps. He would see the faces of long-dead soldiers beneath their hoods. Flashes of expression devoid of humanity. Unquestioning loyalty; perfectly molded indoctrination. Despite it all, he found their cause both tenacious and baffling. How could one, with centuries of life left to live, march unquestioningly into their own death?

Then again, to express doubt was a vile and mannish quality, or so he’d been told.

“You question your own cause, even?”

“I do not question my cause. My cause is much narrower in scope.”

Elenwen tutted, sliding a hand along his bare chest, her long fingers trailing through the sparse graying hair. “Having your own agenda in these times is unwise, but I’m sure you already know that.”

She was beautiful and hideous—elongated features and too-large irises that reflected his own expression back at him like a warped mirror. One of her long, smooth legs moved against his, her knee hitching along the inside of his thigh. Every muscle in her body was lean and coiled, and he wanted to sink his teeth into her until she begged. Yet he was often the one begging when all was said and done.

He’d invited a predator into his bed, and he found that he couldn’t stop.

She pushed upright to straddle his hips, her pale hair framing her face like a halo as she leaned over him, the kohl around her eyes smudged like war paint. The heat between her legs pulsed against his own, and he groaned, tipping his head back and gripping her thighs. Her mouth was on his throat, one hand sliding between their bodies to guide him in until they were joined.

She used her height to her advantage. He felt like a moth pinned to a board when she rode him—helpless, his hands fluttering anywhere they could reach, tracing the lines of her stomach, cupping her breasts, pulling her down for kiss after kiss after kiss. She’d always pull away when he was close, finishing him with her hand until he spilled across his own hips with a shudder and a sharp gasp. Then she’d settle herself over his face, and he’d devour her like a man starved until she was shaking, holding onto the headboard like a drowning sailor clinging to the wreckage of her ship. He shoved his tongue into her mouth when they kissed next, forcing her to taste herself.

See what you do to me? Was winning the war not enough?

Tullius hated her. He hated himself for allowing any of it. Yet somehow he’d wandered too far off the road, lost his sense of direction, and the hatred had turned to worship along the way. And he supposed that’s exactly what the golden elves wanted out of men.

A necessary evil, he reminded himself.

#topsy writes #elenwen #general tullius #elenwen/tullius #skyrim fanfiction #cw: smut #elder scrolls #prompt fill

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valaruakars · 1 year

Note

I'm so happy you opened up prompts. Don't worry about poor time management; life is too short to fret! Work on your own schedule and do what makes you happy. 😘

Always casually pulls up in your inbox like a Mcdonald's drive-thru.

*taps on mic* Can I get a uhhhh number 35 with perhaps pervy Viktor? 🥴

Uhhhh yeah, pull around 👍

Tags/Warnings: 18+, Viktor x AFAB Reader, unethical student/teacher relationship, masturbation, finger sucking

It’s not weird that you’re waiting for him in his office. Viktor lets you do that sometimes. Sorry, Professor Viktor. He’s generous that way, so that you might work comfortably while you pass the time. Generous in a way you’re not sure he is with anyone else, but perhaps it’s only hubris to presume that you’re special.

It gets a little weird, though, when you have the horrible thought to lock the door behind you. Weirder, when you settle into the fine leather chair at his desk and let your thighs inch wider as the pressure builds and the cling of cotton between your legs feels distinctly wetter. He’s not due out of class for at least twenty more minutes…

You have time.

Time to arrange your latest research results to show him, yes, but first… Time to slip the button of your pants through the eyelet, to shimmy them scantly down your hips. Oh yes, you have plenty of time to touch yourself in his office, just as you’ve fantasized about ever since he first spoke your name and called your work inspired.

Your head tips back against the chair as two of your fingers drag up the sticky seam of you, and it’ll be quick, you think. Scratch that—you know it’ll be quick, because you’re imagining that they’re his when you roll your hips into your hand and slip them inside you. In and out in quick, panting flicks of your wrist, your clit catches the heel of your palm over and over and over. Your teeth bite blunt into your lower lip as you imagine, too, how he might coo for you to be a good girl and keep quiet. Wouldn’t want anyone catching an academy professor with his hand between the legs of a student, now would we?

The sensation, the risk, the deviance—it all sets your nerves alight and you are so close, so quickly. The brink is right there, but, well, so is the sound of a key sliding into a lock.

You scramble to wipe your dirty fingers on the inside of your pants and pull them up properly. They’re not even buttoned all the way and there he is. Early, for fuck’s sake. He’s never early!

His eyes are pretty and wide and a little too searching for comfort when they fall on you, but at least he smiles.

“Hi,” is all you can say with your thick, stupid tongue and something in the way he’s looking at you changes.

His eyes sharpen like he’s running a calculation. You plus a locked door, plus an utterly disheveled appearance equals…

He huffs a quiet laugh as he closes the door behind him. And, wait… Was that the bolt of the lock?

“Good afternoon,” he says, ever casual as he comes closer. To put his things down, of course, why are you panicking? He’s too polite, too sweet to suspect you’ve been so vile, but he’s got that smug spark in his eye. The one he gets when he knows he’s done his math right. “Apologies if I’ve kept you waiting. May I see your hand?”

You nearly choke. “My what?”

“Your hand, please.” And because he’s smart, smarter than you, he specifies: “The dominant one.”

You pray it’s not still wet when you place it in his waiting hand, though that doesn’t really matter in the end. Not when he takes it with that wicked little smile and makes sure you’re watching when he kisses the knuckles that you’d sunk all the way inside yourself. He inhales deeply against your skin, and your heart nearly stops.

“So… You touch yourself to the thought of me?” he asks, his voice low and utterly pleased.

You can’t stop watching, awe-struck and throbbing, when he draws two fingers into the warm, wet clutch of his mouth for a taste. For confirmation, because apparently the way you whispered, “Yes,” wasn’t quite enough.

He’s nothing but thorough, cleaning the lingering salty sweetness off your skin with lewd, slick noises as the color deepens along his cheeks, and a prominent strain in his slacks becomes very noticeable.

He pulls off and cradles your hand close, eyes molten.

“I’d like to see that in action.”

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #mdni #arcane x reader #reader insert #my writing #2022 birthday prompts

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atruththatyoudeny · 6 months

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Happy 28th! Here are all the fics I read and loved this month:

Desperation Was My Sanctuary | InsightfulInsomniac | [101k] As a PhD student and transplant to New York City, Louis is struggling for both money and companionship. His roommate, Zayn, introduces him to a friend who is involved in New York City's sugar bowl. Reluctantly, he signs up for a sugaring app knowing he’s probably the least conventional sugar baby on the market. If he can find a sugar daddy who will pay his bills without asking him to sacrifice his own preferences and boundaries, he might just be willing to earn a bit of extra cash by faking a relationship with a millionaire. At the age of 35, Harry’s spent his entire adult life devoted to his career as a fashion designer. With his label, Eroda, steady and flourishing, he finally has time to settle down. When he reflects on his adult life, he realizes that he’s never been in a relationship and therefore feels behind. Shy and insecure in his inexperience, he turns to a sugaring app to manufacture a “test relationship” on his terms. Turns out, they’re both looking for something unconventional. A smutty, non-traditional strangers-to-lovers story about finding yourself, friendship, safety, sexual discovery, and an unexpected collision with tender, profound love.

part time soulmates (full time problem) | localopa | [12k] sworn enemies harry and louis are soulmates. everything is going smoothly until the pain hits.

Men of Steel, Men of Power | Stria (Asia117) | [58k] “You’ve been watching me,” Styles said. Louis swallowed around nothing. He tried for light. “You’re the newest addition, people are bound to be curious,” he said. “Sure,” said Styles, in a somewhat condescending tone. “I’m not that daft, I do notice the curiosity regarding my clothes. That’s not what you’re doing though, hm?” Styles’ gaze was intense, and Louis could feel it burn on the side of his face, but kept his eyes stubbornly on the coffee cup. “I,” he said, licked his lips. Took a deep breath, tried to look open, confident, dominant. Alpha. - Louis has one goal: survive this year unscathed to complete his grand plan, for which he has sacrificed his family, his friends. His identity. he's not expecting Alpha Harry, who manages to get under his skin and inside his heart. He suddenly has a lot more to lose, and a lot less control.

Write You A Song | Rearviewdreamer | [6k] Harry’s new flat is great but the acoustics are even better. They’re so good in fact that his daily shower concerts start to entertain an audience besides his shampoo bottle.

The Bluest war and peace | Hazzaslittle28 | [27k] For centuries the Black Haven pack had a tradition where the first born omegas and alphas were to be introduced to each other. The pups were barely ten, dressed in their finest clothings and made to look presentable. That's when he first saw his ruins and he knew that he was never going to be the same.

Deleted Scenes | Stria (Asia117) | [33k] “Do you trust me?” asks Louis in a whisper, mouth pressed on the crown of Harry’s head. His voice has that raw quality to it that Harry has only heard a few times, and he takes a deep breath. “I do,” he responds, and he could add something to keep up the charade, tell Louis that of course he does, he’s here for him, to support him, but he doesn’t really feel like doing anything. He’s going away in a very short while, after all. He can’t find the strength to keep up the farce. “I told you everything would be alright,” says Louis. “I told you we will be alright. Do you trust me on this?” Harry hesitates. He feels Louis’ arms tighten around him, and he brings one of his hands over Louis’. He doesn’t want to lie, he doesn’t. Agent Harry Styles was injured on the job a few months back, and gets roped in one last mission before he can retire prematurely: playing house with Louis, a widower who has amnesia. The assignment seems simple at the beginning, but soon enough Harry's twisted in a web of his own making, and can't get out anymore.

you know it ain't fiction, just a natural fact | anditsonlyforthebrave | [13k] “Look, Lou” Harry whispers, “I can’t do it, and as much as I like having dinner with you, and hanging out, I think we should just do it without the tutoring part because I am not smart enough for school.” “That’s bullshit,” Louis answers quickly, “what do you like?” he asks, “I mean, other than football and asking me stuff about my family. There must be something else you’re good at.” “I play football and fuck, Louis. That’s it.” Louis definitely doesn’t flinch at that. He does not. --- Harry is the golden boy of the college football's team, Louis is their professors' golden student and they definitely don't have anything in common. Falling in love would be dumb.

what's left of my halo's black | LiveLaughLoveLarry (SoLongAndThanksForAllTheFic) | [22k] As Harry sucks lovebites into Louis’ neck, Louis hopes that one day those marks will cover the way he can still feel Alex’s handprints burned into his flesh. As Harry’s nails drag scratches along Louis’ back, Louis hopes that one day the scabs on his heart will heal and drop away just like the scabs on his skin. As Harry fucks him down into the mattress, the bed shaking with every thrust, Louis hopes that one day his mouth will forget the shape of Alex’s name, won’t trace it over and over as the heat builds inside him, won’t want to scream it when he comes. Maybe one day he’ll open his eyes, as he slowly floats down from his post-orgasm haze, and won’t expect to see Alex’s face smiling back at him. But today is not that day. A year after a devastating breakup, Louis is still trying to put himself back together - but getting over a breakup is hard when you work as a wedding planner. Thankfully, his coworker Harry is the most supportive friend Louis could ask for. But Harry has some secrets of his own, and they send Louis' world spinning off its axis all over again. Based on the song "Holding On To Heartache" by Louis Tomlinson

Hold You With My Hands Tied | LetTheMusicMoveYou | [12k] “There’s a club in town called Habit, and they’re looking for a bartender to cover evenings and weekends. No previous experience required.” Harry furrows his brows. He’s never been to Habit, but he certainly knows what type of club it is. BDSM. It’s not the ideal position for an Omega surely, but beggars can’t be choosers he supposes. He tilts his head to the side. “And they would be ok with an Omega filling that role?” Janet scans her eyes over the job description before nodding. “Yes, actually it says here Omegas are preferred but not required.” Harry sighs. “When do I start?” (Or the one where Omega Harry loses his bakery job and is forced to take a temporary position bartending at a local BDSM club. It turns out to be not so bad. Especially when he catches the eye of the owner Louis, who also happens to be a gorgeous Alpha).

#28th appreciation #fic rec #monthly fic rec #my fic rec #my reads #monthly reads #larry fics

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genopaint · 4 months

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Week 6 of the Daily Dragon Challenge! This is my last week before I start moving, which will likely be a HUGE strain on my time. So hopefully I can keep it up? We'll see?

As always you can follow me on twitter where they’re posted daily

And read more info on each of them below the cut

Daily Dragon #35 - Ghouldrogon

When the knights finally played the dragon tormenting the village... Something went horribly wrong. It didn't decay right. It lingers in the mountain. And it's corrupted soul haunts the lair forever. They have creepy undead magic, spewing foul smelling paranormal green flames. If you somehow successfully steal something from their horde, it's gonna be horribly cursed.

This is a redesign of a 2012 skeleton! Was looking for an old dragon to redraw and settled on this dude! But it's REALLY been changed up I guess. It's barely the same thing anymore lol but I think the new one's way cooler!

Daily Dragon #36 - Floofizard

These more rodent-like dragons are typically found near park trails and in cities with trees to hide in. They love to collect nuts and fruits, but aren't afraid to get close to humans and snatch scraps when the chance comes up. They're fast runners too, so good luck catching them if they snatch a snack out of your bag. You don't commonly see them as pets, but some people love them because of how soft and fluffy they are!

Daily Dragon #37 - Orbodon

Not exactly "man's best friend" as they can be very mischievous! Causing small problems like stealing food, knocking things over, and other trouble, then rolling away before they can be caught and get a little water spritzed in their face.

Had a plan for a big dragon today but ended up feeling a little tired when I sat down to draw tonight so I went with something simple. My brain kept telling me "do a circle one... just make it a circle" and I gave in and now we have the second dog dragon of the challenge lol

Daily Dragon #38 - Dragostein

Dragons slain across the land suddenly go missing, remains of the beast go unaccounted for... Suddenly, a new dragon appears in a long abandoned laboratory. It can't move well, but it doesn't feel pain, is physically power, and has electric powers!

This is the dragon I wanted to draw yesterday! Based on "Dragonstien" that I got from the infinite craft game. For some reason I thought it was so funny, I just had to draw it

Daily Dragon #39 - Rammosaur

A highly aggressive dragon that loves hitting and smashing things with its horns! They can even use those huge horns to shovel dirt and rocks out of their path and territories high up on the mountains! Very versatile creatures!

This creature is a redraw of this weird fella from roughly 2019 I think? Was looking for some random dragons I did in the past and found this thing. It was called the "Rammasaur" but it doesn't really look like a dino? So I wanted to redo it lol

Daily Dragon #40 - Arachnosaur

A strange hybrid of reptile and arachnid! 8 limbs, 7 eyes, Scorpion tail, powerful jaws, and lethal venom make this dragon a feared beast inside most caves. It can also spit webs from its mouth!

Daily Dragon #41 - Magma Dragoon

And of course, this is today's dragon! I actually wanted to draw a nice and simple dragon, but hated how they all came out. So of course the obvious solution was to swap to something complicated!

#dragon #dragons #daily dragon challenge

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whentommymetalfie · 10 months

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Home to you -chapter 40

-Organs-

Prologue//1//2//3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39

Pairing: Tommy/Alfie

Summary: Alfie has some new ideas on how to get Tommy to relax at night. And a missing family member makes an appearance.

Warnings: disordered eating, suicidal ideation, mental instability, hallucinations, ptsd, self harm, past force feeding

Content note: sexual content

Wordcount: 7,2K

“Still not tired, petal?” Alfie stops reading and looks down at him over the edge of his glasses, his face warmly lit by the lamp on the bedside table. Tommy hesitates for a moment before shaking his head. There’s never any use trying to hide something from Alfie. Alfie tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “That’s alright. We’ll keep at it for a while then.” And he turns to the next page.

Burying his face back in the soft, familiar folds of Alfie’s shirt, Tommy holds the hot water bottle tighter to his chest and tries to will himself to relax. It shouldn’t be so hard. The house is quiet, but not like Arrow House, not the same echoing silence. It’s full of the creaks of old wooden floors and beams, waterpipes whistling quietly in the walls, and he can almost pretend they’re home, if he tries hard enough. But there’s a storm outside tonight, rain whipping against the windowpanes, howling around the corners, making the trees bend and their branches rustle. It’s as loud as his head. The wind is full of whispers.

Everyone else in the house is asleep. It took some time to get Charlie and Ruby to settle for the night, with the thunder that has come and gone, but now they’re sound asleep in Lizzie’s room. Everyone is asleep. Everyone is safe. And he should be tired. He’s always tired. Even when he sleeps, there’s hardly any respite, only dreams full of windowless cells, Michael grinning at him behind the bars until the room is engulfed in flames or fills with water that rushes into his mouth as he screams. The added fear of waking up in wet sheets again hasn’t made sleeping any easier. It hasn’t happened since that one time, but that doesn’t matter. Once is enough to make him dread it’ll happen again.

Alfie turns another page and starts a new chapter, and Tommy tries to focus on his voice, but a sudden bang jolts his entire body upright, held back only by Alfie’s arm tightening around his waist.

“Shh, shh, treacle, just a branch hitting the window, it’s nothing to be afraid of, eh?” Alfie reassures him, tucking him back against his side and kissing the top of his head before continuing to read as if nothing happened. He closes his eyes and tries to will himself to sleep, but he can barely hear Alfie over the wind and the rain and all the other voices, whispering but still so loud and even with his eyes closed he sees the white dress the smoke billowing underneath the closed door padded walls closing in, feels the sensation of fingers around his throat…

He needs to sleep. Alfie needs to sleep. That’s why he got angry, he’s not sleeping enough. It’s taken him some time to put the pieces together, everything is so blurry around him, but it’s as if he’s slowly remerging into the world around him, little by little. He’s clung so tightly to Alfie for safety and still it’s taken him so long to see that Alfie is tired. That’s why he got angry yesterday- it was yesterday, wasn’t it? Or was it earlier today? He hates the way everything is so fractured, the memories breaking apart and blending together. But Alfie got angry and yelled at him. It’s okay now, because Alfie told him that over and over again, it wasn’t his fault, and even when they tell him otherwise, Tommy knows he needs to listen to Alife.

Still, Alfie got angry because he’s tired, which means Alfie needs to sleep, and Alfie won’t sleep unless he thinks Tommy is asleep. Only, tonight it’s impossible. His body seems to buzz with nervous energy, and the weight on his chest feels more like icy river water with every second.

Tommy opens his eyes when Alfie goes quiet, and finds himself once again being watched over the glasses’ edge. Alfie’s hand is on his back, and he must feel the way his heart flutters like a trapped bird in there because he frowns and lays the book down on his chest.

“How about we try something different to relax a little, hm, treacle? Sometimes that’s better than just lying in bed for hours, tossing and turning.”

He should tell Alfie no, that it’s fine. Instead, he nods.

“Yeah? How about we take a bath? A nice hot one. That’s done you some good before. Then we can try sleeping again.”

Tommy sits and Alfie does the same, stretching his back and wincing, before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

“Come along then, sweetheart, got a feeling you don’t want to stay out here on your own.”

Hand tangled in Alfie’s sleeve, Tommy follows him to the bathroom, leaving the others behind. Alfie sits him down on a stool he’s put in there and begins filling the tub. The water splashes as it hits the bottom of the tub, but soon turns to an even stream. He listens to it. If he does, he can’t quite hear the storm outside, or the voices within it.

“This is quite the science, right, getting the perfect temperature here,” Alfie says, holding a hand under the stream of water. “See, bath water can be treacherous because if you make it too cold, then it’s useless, right, no one wants to sit in tepid water, but contrary-“ Alfie moves to the medicine cabinet and begins shuffling through it, squinting at the bottles. “If it’s too hot, yeah, the first few minutes are grand and then you feel as if you’re being boiled alive. You’ve got to get it just right.” He settles for a dark blue bottle, unscrews the cork and holds it out for Tommy to smell. “Lavender, I think. Not that I claim to be an expert at botany, but that one’s easy enough. Supposedly very good for sleeping, I have on good authority from your sister. How about we give it a try?”

Tommy nods and earns a smile and a light pat on the cheek before Alfie pours some of the bottle’s content into the bath. Soon, the room is filled with scented steam, and the tub is full of what according to Alfie is perfectly tempered water. Alfie gets undressed and steps close to Tommy, helping him with the buttons on his shirt and pulling the garment from his shoulders as if he’s unwrapping tissue paper from a fragile piece of porcelain. Tommy keeps his eyes on his chest to avoid seeing Alfie’s gaze on him, but Alfie puts a finger under his chin and tilts his head up, kissing him softly, reminding him that his broken body doesn’t disgust him.

Alfie gets in the bath first and soon Tommy is settled between his knees, his back against his chest and head resting on his shoulder, and a trembling breath escapes him as the heat engulfs him. For just a moment as he allows himself to sink into the water, he’s worried the sensation will set something off, one of all the bad memories, but there’s nothing similar about this and the terrifying depths of the river, or the icy waves of the sea, nothing at all.

Alfie sighs and leans back against the edge of the tub, closing his eyes.

“Yeah, one thing can be said about your sister, right, and it’s that she’s got her priorities straight when it comes to bathtubs. A high quality one, this is. Properly sized as well.”

Alfie wraps his arms tightly around him.

Tommy settles into the embrace. There’s a window in the bathroom, and rain whips against it. His heart keeps pattering against his ribs, the bird desperate to escape. Maybe it’s the crow, maybe that’s where it’s gone to? He hasn’t seen it in so long. Alfie’s arms hold him tighter as he rocks him ever so slightly.

“Try to relax, love. Nothing to be afraid of here. I’ve got you. Not going anywhere.” Alfie’s hands wrap around his wrists and his thumbs rub gentle circles over the veins where his pulse continues to patter too quickly. “You’re safe. And I know you may not feel safe, which makes sense, after everything you’ve had to fucking endure. But you’ll just have to trust an old man and his infinite wisdom.”

Alfie moves his thumbs down over his hands, rubbing his palms, his too pronounced knuckles and bony fingers. Then back up, along his arms until he reaches his chest where the bird wings flutter. Alfie rubs circles there too, the heat of his palms seeping into his chest, easing the heavy feeling in there. Tommy listens to his breathing and follows, like he’s done so many times before. Alfie’s hands slip down over his ribs, his stomach, until they reach his thighs. He melts further and further into his embrace, turning his head to rest his forehead against Alfie’s neck. Alfie strokes along his thighs, gently moving over sparse muscle and sinew, pale skin bruised around the knees where the bones lie too close to the surface.

“Relax, love, I’ve got you,” he whispers and Tommy becomes aware of the tension in his legs, takes a slow breath and tries to imagine the warm water and Alfie’s touch melting it. “There we go, good boy,” Alfie mutters when his knees part and fall to the sides as he relaxes further. The hands move the inside of his thighs where the skin is thin and sensitive. At first it’s just the thumbs, right above his knees, but they soon trail upwards. Tommy closes his eyes and noses at the hollow of Alfie’s neck, a sigh escaping him. Alfie’s hands are high up between his legs now, thumbs rubbing into the tissue on his stomach right where his hipbones dip. A sudden burst of pain makes him hiss.

“You’re all tense here,” Alfie says and rubs a tiny bit harder. Tommy lets out a shaky breath. “Want me to stop?”

It takes some time before he understands the question and he shakes his head. There’s something soothing about Alfie’s broad thumbs slowly rubbing the tense muscles and breathing through the pain. He so often feels as if he’s floating outside of his body, disconnected from it, or that he’s trapped within it. Now, he just feels… held. Alfie buries his nose in his hair, placing kisses in the curls. Tommy reaches up and puts a hand on the back of his neck. Listens to the rain outside. It’s not quite as loud anymore.

After a while, even the crow stops trying to escape his ribcage and settles down as Alfie’s hands continue their ministrations. Something in his tense muscles gives and the pain is suddenly gone, making him let out a sigh in relief and leaving him all soft and pliant in Alfie’s arms.

“ ‘s that good, sweetheart?” Alfie cups the insides of his thighs and he can hear his own heartbeat in his ears, it’s all he can hear, finally, that and the way Alfie’s breathing has changed, growing deeper. He bows his head to reach Tommy’s lips with his own, and from there, the rest of the world fades around him, leaving only them, this. Tommy kisses him back, familiar heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. Alfie keeps the kiss soft at first, but when Tommy digs his fingers into his hair and pulls him closer, he slips his tongue into his mouth, hungry and demanding. It’s been so long since Alfie kissed him like this and it leaves him lightheaded and sends hot spikes of desire through him. Alfie’s hands are still on the insides of his thighs, rubbing in slow circles, and Tommy finds himself wanting those hands somewhere else. His hips buck almost by their own accord, a wave of pleasure shooting up his spine as his cock brushes against Alfie’s hand. Alfie’s hands still and Tommy becomes suddenly aware of himself, feeling a mortifying second of shame. But then he notices the hard, thick line of Alfie’s cock against the small of his back. He pushes back against him, making Alfie growl into his ear and take him into his palm. He doesn’t know how long he’s been hard but the second Alfie touches his cock it sets him on fire and he moans into Alfie’s neck as he begins to stroke him. Alfie’s other hand slides further in between his thighs, his fingers rubbing at a spot between his balls. His hips grind into him from behind. Tommy grabs his hand and pushes it further, until Alfie’s fingers graze his entrance. He feels dizzy with need, every thought gone except how much he wants, needs, Alfie to touch him, push into him, fill him up. How much he needs him to be closer.

“Don’t think you’re ready for that yet, petal,” Alfie rasps into his ear, but still rubs two fingers around the rim of his hole. Yes, yes, he is. He moans, squeezes the plea into Alfie’s hand and rubs himself against the fingers. A deep rumble rolls in Alfie’s chest and one finger slips inside, just barely. He moans again, hears it as a sound not coming from his own mouth and claws at the back of Alfie’s neck, clenching around the finger, hears Alfie mutter curses and nonsense about how they should be in bed, should use fucking lube, fine, fine, but just fingers then, insatiable little thing, and then Alfie pushes the finger in further, just one, not deep, but it burns as it stretches him out. Alfie kisses him again, breath is hot against his mouth and he moves the hand on his cock faster. The unfamiliar intrusion still has him reeling, and he arches his back. Sets his feet on the opposite edge of the tub to find some leverage as Alfie pushes deeper into him, making a string of broken noises spill from his mouth. The water around them splashes over the edge of the tub as they move together; Tommy caught between either of Alfie’s hands and Alfie rutting against him from behind. It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt and he can’t stop clenching around Alfie’s finger, and as the burning feeling slowly fades he pushes into the touch, wanting more, of what he’s not sure, but he want’s, needs-

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you, just wait, you’ll see,” Alfie mutters, and he rubs and strokes as if he’s searching, and suddenly brushes against something that makes Tommy’s vision go white with pleasure, and his body arch into a bow. Alfie lets out a dark chuckle. “Yeah, there we are, there we fucking are.”

With only one more push, Tommy finds himself hurtling over the edge, letting out a stifled moan that turns into a sob, and then another, and another as he first floats, completely weightless in hot, pulsating pleasure where the only sound is Alfie grunting as he finishes. Then he sinks and sinks until everything is warm, and dark, and blissfully quiet. In that quiet, he can finally rest.

Arms rock him slowly in the water. The first thing he hears is his own heartbeat, slowly calming. Then, a voice. “Tommy, sweetheart-“

The voice wants his attention but he’s tired now, already far under the surface.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” And when he categorizes the voice first as Alfie’s, and then as ‘worried’ he forces his eyes open, just enough to glance up at him through his wet lashes. Alfie’s got that concerned wrinkle between his eyebrows. He clears his throat. “Hadn’t really planned on that. Suppose I got a bit caught up in the moment, eh? Did I hurt you?” Tommy shakes his head slowly and reaches up with a heavy limb to smooth the wrinkle out with his thumb. When he smiles at him, it disappears, and Alfie smiles too. It washes the weariness from his face. He’s very handsome. Possibly the most handsome man in the world, scars and all. And at that moment, Tommy feels so incredibly lucky to be right there in his arms.

“Think that you needed that, hm, love?” Alfie gently wipes something wet from his cheek and frowns slightly. “You’re shaking,” he then notes and squeezes him tightly. Tommy only lets out a breath in acknowledgement. It’s strange, because he feels warm, warm and tired and light and heavy at the same time. Alfie sits up a bit straighter. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Tommy is completely useless, can’t even maneuver himself out of the tub but Alfie is there with firm hands and steady arms. He sways a little as Alfie reaches for a towel, and closes his eyes as he dries him off and then changes the dressings on the various wounds, the ones he doesn’t want to think about right now when everything is finally quiet. Alfie chuckles a little when he leans forward to rest his forehead against his shoulder because his head is so heavy. “If you’re this out of it now, swooning after just some fingering, let me tell you, my cock will have you fucking blacking out.”

His face feels hot and he swats Alfie on the shoulder.

“Oh, nothing to be ashamed of at all, sweetheart, I think it’s lovely how responsive you are to my attentions.” Alfie’s voice is warm and happy and it makes Tommy feel so warm and light that he doesn’t know what to do, so he just wraps his arms tightly around his waist and buries his face in his chest. Alfie makes a surprised noise as the sudden hug squeezes some air from his lungs. Then, he returns the hug even tighter.

When Alfie gets him to bed, he’s half asleep already. It doesn’t matter that it’s storming outside, or that the silence in his head won’t last, because he’s out cold the moment Alfie tucks his head into the crook of his neck.

….

The storm has blown over the next morning. Tommy watches the lingering raindrops seep down the window as he sits in the kitchen with his breakfast in front of him. Alfie’s got that worried wrinkle between his eyebrows again, the one that’s always there when he’s watching Tommy try to eat, and he’s pacing the kitchen floor, only stopping ever so often to take a mouthful of tea from the cup balancing precariously close to the edge of the table.

Tommy tries to think of something nice, find distraction from the daunting task at hand, but the quiet in his head has gone and the voices are back to being too loud and too many and his thoughts are quick and fractured beyond recognition. It makes it hard to stay focused on just one, never mind something pleasant. He doesn’t have many of those to linger on. Thinking about last night just makes him blush, so that’s out of the question, no matter how pleasant it might’ve been.

He doesn’t understand why it’s so hard to eat, you have to eat Tommy, every time he swallows he feels the sensation of the tube being shoved down his throat, but he doesn’t understand why he can’t fucking get over it, forget it, we don’t want to do this, if you just eat on your own we wouldn’t have too- it was so long ago, and Alfie is never going to let that happen to him again

“He can’t make promises like that. You saw what happened last time.”

all Alfie asks in return is that he eats, and

“You can’t even do that, can you?”

Tommy looks at Alfie who finally stops pacing and takes a gulp of tea.

“You need to tell him if you want or need something,” the new voice says. It’s quiet, softer than the others, and most of the time too far away to hear. But what it says makes sense, even if it’s difficult, the most difficult thing in the world, reaching out, asking for something, even from Alfie, but he musters up the courage and pats the chair next to him. Alfie’s face softens and he goes to sit beside him. Tommy shuffles his chair closer until his leg touches Alfie’s and picks up the fork again. Focuses on the warmth of Alfie’s body next to his. Shuffles even closer, momentarily terrified that Alfie will snap at him, annoyed that he’s clinging to him all the time, which seems ridiculous after last night, but this is, this is different. Alfie wraps an arm around his waist.

“There we go. ‘s this what you need, treacle?” Alfie squeezes his waist and he tries to not think about the way his ribs protrude against his skin. Alfie likes touching him, he doesn’t care.

“Did you know there are many old, taxidermized animals that look nothing like they’re supposed to,” Alfie says suddenly, and he can tell this is going to be something longwinded, which makes the next bite easier to swallow. “Because the people who did the taxidermy had no idea what the animal was actually supposed to look like? Yeah. There’s this lion, for example, in a castle somewhere, fuck if I know where, that looks like, well, I couldn’t possibly fully convey how odd it looks, but you’ll just have to trust me. It’s all flat in the face, and it’s got… these huge, human looking teeth, because no one involved had ever seen a lion, right, they just got the hide and sort of filled it like a pillow. Quite fascinating, that, isn’t it? Or at the very least notable. Even if you couldn’t take a photo you’d think they’d at least have someone go in search of one and make a drawing, at least if it’s going to be displayed in a fucking castle. That’s some impressive fucking confidence right there…”

The familiar sound of Lizzie’s steps -long, determined ones, heels clicking- comes towards the kitchen and Alfie pauses as she enters, impeccably dressed and hair in a neat updo, not a strand out of place.

“Good morning,” she says with a faint smile and a nod in their direction before opening one of the cupboards in search of a teacup. Tommy shifts away from Alfie and sits up a bit straighter, hot in the face suddenly.

“Good morning Mrs. Shelby,” Alfie says just as easily. “Did you get any sleep with all the racket going on?”

Tommy chokes on a mouthful of tea and just barely manages to keep it from spraying all over the table, forcing it down his throat instead. Alfie means the storms, of course he means the storm.

“You alright, treacle?” Alfie frowns and he nods quickly, the heat on his cheeks spreading all over and dripping down the back of his neck and he stares down at the plate, tries not to imagine Lizzie hearing him last night. He wasn’t that loud, was he?

“You made sounds that would make even a whore blush,” Grace sneers. “Is that what you are now, Tommy? Suppose you don’t have much else to offer.”

“Well, once we’d read ‘Old mother west wind’ about ten times, we all fell asleep,” Lizzie says lightly and he glances up. Lizzie has found a teacup and is pouring tea from the pot, looking at ease. She looks completely normal, doesn’t she, not like she’s, not- Tommy picks up the fork and skewers another apple piece on it to keep anyone from noticing that he’s spiralling. The moment you woke up and fell straight into his arms I knew you weren’t mine to keep, isn’t that what she said, she told him to go with Alfie. Still, this is different, the thought that she knows somehow- But why would she? It doesn’t show on his face, does it?

Grace scoffs. “Of course she knows he’s fucking you.”

“What else would she imagine you two doing in the bedroom?” John grins from where he’s sitting on the counter, blood pooling at his feet. “Obviously she realises he does more than read you fucking bedtime stories.”

“You might as well let him take you bent over the table, right here in front of her.”

Bile rises suddenly in his throat and he swallows it down. He keeps his gaze lowered, feeling hot and cold all over suddenly. It comes over him in waves.

“Did you get any sleep?” Lizzie asks far away and he tries to claw himself above the surface again-

“Yeah, well, took some time to get settled. Tommy, you sure you’re okay? You’re white as a fucking sheet.”

Tommy can feel their concerned eyes on him but he can’t look up, or they’ll see the shame on his face. He’s overreacting, this is all in his head, there’s no need to get all fucking worked up-

Suddenly, a red ball comes bouncing across the floor, and along with it, a large flurry of fur and heavy paws, skidding across the floor, slamming into the table and tipping the teapot onto its side. Charlie and Ruby follow close behind, both shrieking and laughing. His heart jumps into his throat at the sudden burst of noise and movement, he flinches and drops his teacup onto the floor where it shatters into a thousand pieces. Everything around him keeps moving, all at once.

“Ruby, Charlie, not in the house!” Lizzie calls and hurries over before they can come any closer to the broken pieces.

“Cyril!” Alfie barks and the dog stops in its tracks as he shoots out of his chair, takes Cyril by the collar and tugs him out of reach of both the red ball and the shards. “Go on, out in the garden, none of that-“

He disappears from the kitchen with Cyril in a firm hold and Tommy only now realises he’s reaching for nothing but thin air. He breathes in sharp hiccups, tries desperately to regain his footing, it’s fine, nothing happened, nothing happened, but cold sweat is seeping down the back of his neck, his vision blurring, making the shards on the floor dissolve at the edges. He wrings his hands together in his lap, can feel that he’s shaking but can’t control it. Around him, the voices come through that familiar filter of a growing ringing in his ears.

“But we were playing!”

“Not inside, Ruby. Playing fetch is an outside game. No, no, move away from there-“

“We’re sorry.”

“It’s okay, I know was an accident, but you have to be more careful. Why don’t you go out to Cyril?”

Tommy stares at the floor. It’s his fault there are sharp, broken pieces everywhere. He gets off the chair on unsteady legs and sinks to his knees, begins picking up the shards, one by one, tries to count them to calm his racing heart, one two three-

“No, Tommy, don’t touch that, I’ll take care of it,” Lizzie says softly and crouches before him, four five six-

“We’re really sorry,” Charlie says and Tommy looks up, swallows, and he tries so hard to say the same thing as Lizzie, it’s okay, it was an accident, but he can’t make a sound so he tries to smile instead but his face feels numb and Charlie furrows his brow a little.

“Don’t be sad,” he says. Ruby watches him too, biting the nail on her thumb. Grace tilts her head, standing so close suddenly, right behind them.

“You’re scaring them,” she says and that mocking sneer that he’s grown so used to twists her lips. “Just look at you. You should be locked up. They should’ve left you in that cell where you can’t do this kind of damage.”

The pieces of the teacup smatter to the floor as he drops them. He lowers his gaze and feels the all too familiar heat rise behind his eyes. He blinks quickly and focuses on the tiny shards on the floor, once again picking them up one by one with trembling fingers, one two three four five- Lizzie moves, stands between him and the kids, gently rubbing Charlie’s shoulder.

“Charlie, it’s okay, loud noises can be sort of scary, can’t they? It’s just like the thunder.”

“We didn’t mean to scare you, dad,” Charlie says and Tommy bites the inside of his cheek, wants the floor to open up beneath him and swallow him whole. His hands shake so hard that he drops the shards again. Lizzie ushers the kids towards the door.

“He knows that, come on, let’s go find Cyril.”

“But-“

“Daddy will be okay.”

Lizzie herds the kids out of the kitchen as Alfie’s feet reappear in his field of vision.

“Is daddy never going to talk again, ever?”

“We don’t know that, love-”

The moment they’re gone Tommy folds forward and gasps for breaths, grabs onto his arms and squeezes his eyes shut, gulping around the air as he struggles to get it down past the mud the water filling in his throat as everything blurs around him the edges of his vision darkening and he digs his nails into his arms wants to take the shards and

carve himself open anything to make all of this stop he’s so

fucking pathetic

Then Alfie is there, appears by his side, firmly pulls him up and away from the shards, sitting down on a chair and settling him down onto his lap -let me get a look at that sweetheart, no scratches eh? No? Good, that’s good, no harm done- hugs him as he fights to draw more wheezing lungfuls of air down his chest, throaty whines escaping between his teeth with each exhale. He clings to Alfie for safety, fingers clenched into his shirt. Alfie rubs his back.

“There we go, shh, it’s okay,” he mutters into his hair. “Kids and dogs in the same household eh, can get a bit overwhelming for anyone.”

No, not for anyone.

Alfie cradles his head against his chest, covering the scar and muffling the whining noises. Tommy curls into the warmth.

When Lizzie returns, he can’t move, remaining curled up on Alfie’s lap. She folds her arms over her chest and watches him with sad eyes.

“They’re outside playing,” she says softly “It’s okay. They know you’re not upset with them.”

Alfie squeezes him. “Yeah? Hear that? No one’s upset. ‘s all good.”

“And Ruby has asked about that before,” Lizzie says. “About you not talking. I’ve tried to explain, but she’s too little to understand. And I suppose you don’t fully understand it yourself.” She sighs, and when she speaks again, he can hear it’s not to him anymore. “I’m taking the kids to the stables, and Ada’s… she’s out somewhere. Will you be okay by yourself? Esther and Frances are doing some shopping but they should be back soon.”

“Sure, sure, it’ll be fine. Might go for a walk. How ‘bout that, Tommy? After we’ve had some rest.”

“I can clean up here. Think there’s a broom somewhere-“

“I’ll take care of it. Go to the kids, eh?”

Lizzie disappears from the kitchen. Alone again, he hides his face completely in Alfie’s shirt and deflates. Ruby’s question keeps replaying in his mind.

Is daddy never going to talk again, ever?

How could he ever tell them?

He had so few words for so long that they were easily lost, and now he doesn’t know how to find them again. And perhaps it would be better if he never did. It’s already so difficult, seeing someone react to him in any way, to something he does, or doesn’t do, so difficult to accept that he leaves an imprint on the ever-expanding world around him when all he ever does is ruin it. Better then to stay quiet, stay unnoticed, out of people’s way.

“You may have forgotten, Tommy, but I haven’t,” Grace says. “There are still moments when you wish you’d have joined me. You would’ve spared them all this.”

He’d forgotten, for a short moment, it’s so easy to do with Alfie, forget how broken he is. But then he sees his children, anyone else, and it becomes painfully clear they’re all part of a world he doesn’t have access to anymore, one he doesn’t know how to exist in. One where there isn’t a place for him.

“That’s why they locked you away.”

Alfie’s fingers trail down his temple, soothing the phantom pain there,

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “You’ll talk when you’re ready. And I talk enough for the both of us, so there’s no pressure where that bit is concerned.”

Alfie holds him tighter, reminds him that he’s not floating in the dark river.

…

It takes so little to completely knock him down. He’s exhausted after what happened in the kitchen, being pulled underneath the surface and clawing his way up again always leaves him completely drained and disconnected from his surroundings. But Alfie knows. Alfie takes care of him. Alfie takes him to Ada’s library to pick out a book. Or rather, approve of what he picks out. Got impeccable taste, don’t I love? I know you trust my judgement. And then to the living room where the sun is shining and Esther has left a pot of tea, which means she must be back now. There, he tucks Tommy in under a blanket with the hot water bottle.

That afternoon, he’s still dozing off with his head on Alfie’s lap when the voices wake him. They come from far away, he only hears them as mutters through the house, through the open door to the living room. He closes his eyes again, they’re not real, and you shouldn’t listen to them, but the voices seem to come closer and he grabs onto Alfie’s sleeve. A hard expression settles on Alfie’s face. Alfie notices them too, which means they must be real.

“Stay here,” he says, and moves quickly across the room, closing the door as he leaves. It happens so fast and suddenly he’s alone. Tommy curls into the corner of the sofa and listens carefully as Alfie’s voice joins the others, but can only hear bits and pieces. The voices come closer, stopping right outside the door.

“Solomons, he knows he needs to be careful,” Ada’s voice says.

“Right, right, because this fucking family’s got such a great track record with that. Seems like every time one of you show up things go south. And we really don’t need any more upsets today. Already had a rough start.”

“Please, I just want to see him.” Tommy recognizes the voice but his head is working so slowly piecing things together.

“You on something?” Alfie asks. “Because it sure as fuck looks like it.”

Ada’s voice goes sharp and angry. “I wouldn’t have fucking brought him if-“

“You drunk, then?”

“Fucking hell, Solomons!”

“Of course not!” it says, the voice he knows, he knows it so well but why can’t he remember? Tommy climbs off the sofa but ends up frozen on the spot, unable to approach the door.

“Looks like it. Smells like it too. But perhaps you’ve just reached that stage where your bloody skin begins to smell like whiskey. “

“Enough of this, this is my house, and if-“

Ada is cut off, the door opens and Finn is standing on the threshold.

His younger brother stares at him as if he’s seen a ghost, rigid and still. Then he crosses the room in three long strides and pulls Tommy into a tight embrace. Tommy’s head barely comes up to his shoulder but Finn ducks his head and hunches over as if he could make himself small again and Tommy wraps his arms around him, as best as he can now when he’s suddenly so grown. Finn squeezes him tightly, and he lets him. Then he lets Finn hold on for as long as he likes. For once it feels like that’s enough.

When Finn eventually pulls out of the hug, he takes Tommy by the shoulders and looks him up and down with a wide grin on his face that doesn’t waver, even if Tommy knows what a pitiful sight he makes. Finn clears his throat and turns away quickly, wiping at his eyes.

“ ‘s good to see you, Tom,” he says, voice thick. “I thought, well, we all thought… Anyway, I’m glad you’re okay.” He glances in Ada’s direction. “Ada’s told me everything. In the car on the way here. I’m- I’m sorry you had to go through all that. And I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”

He squeezes Tommy’s shoulders, his hands so large they cover them entirely. Tommy looks him over, mostly to have an excuse to break eye contact. He’s in an obviously new suit and freshly shaved, but his hair is a bit too long and there are bloody streaks in the corners of his eyes. The dark circles under them makes his insides clench. But his smile is real and unwavering and without questions and it loosens the knot in his stomach slightly.

“Yeah, would you look at that, bet you barely recognize me,” Finn says. “Almost looks like I’m your big brother now, eh? But don’t worry, I’m taller than Arthur too. Even if it’s just by an inch or so. But you’ve always been tiny.”

And he’s got the audacity to ruffle Tommy’s hair. Letting out an indignant huff, Tommy brushes away the hair away from his eyes. It’s getting unruly, those long bits. He only notices it now.

Finn is still smiling, and he doesn’t know what to do with that. As always he looks to Alfie for help. Alfie is stood by the doorway next to Ada, watching him with soft eyes, and comes instantly to his aid, moving to his side and reaching out to shake Finn’s hand.

“We didn’t do much of a proper introduction, did we?” he says. Finn accepts the hand and Alfie shakes it. “Alfie Solomons.”

“I know, Sir. You’re Tommy’s… friend,” Finn says. “Ada told me.”

“Sure, sure. And a very good friend, at that,” Alfie says, still holding firmly onto Finns’ hand, eyes boring into his. “So I’m sure you can see why I have his best interest in mind, and might be a bit dubious of any and all people who may or may not cause him some sort of distress.”

A bright shade of red spreads up Finn’s neck. “Of course, Sir. And I’m- I’m happy you’ve been looking out for him.”

Alfie grunts and keeps staring at Finn until he’s virtually squirming in his spot. Tommy moves an inch closer and brushes his hand against Alfie’s. Alfie looks at him. The hard expression melts from his face and he pats Finn’s shoulder.

“Well, pleased to meet yet another one of Tommy’s illustrious siblings. Must say you’ve got more manners than your older brother. Perhaps you could give dear old Arthur some tips.”

Finn lets out a relieved laugh and Ada pipes up from the doorway, “Would you like to stay for dinner, Finn?”

“Sure, sure, if that would be alright?” Finn says, looking to Alfie as if waiting for approval. Alfie in turn looks to Tommy, and he nods, even if his heart sinks in his chest.

“Great,” Ada says, clearly picking up on the exchange. “I’ll let Frances know,”

Finn suddenly pulls Tommy into another hug, and this time it’s as if he remembers his size because he stands tall and pulls him into his chest, arms around his neck to tuck his head in there. Tommy feels strangely small. But perhaps that’s not such a bad thing.

…

Tommy stays in his and Alfie’s room during dinner, because he can’t bear all of them watching him, can’t let Finn see how difficult it is for him to eat. He knows it must seem strange to Finn, that he’s probably asking questions that Lizzie and Ada struggle to answer, but the mere thought of sitting through an entire meal with anyone but Alfie is unbearable. So this is just how it’ll have to be. Alfie understands, of course, without Tommy having to say a word. But later that evening, when Arthur has shown up and announced it to the whole house, and the kids have been put to bed, Tommy finds himself in the living room with the others, one of his hands firmly attached to Alfie’s sleeve and the other holding onto the hot water bottle. He’d forgotten how loud his family could be. Their voices quickly blend together and he can’t keep track of the conversation, it moves too fast and there are too many people talking. It’s strange to realise it, that he can’t even follow a normal conversation. Alfie notices. Leans in and asks so quietly no one else can hear if he wants to go upstairs, but he still wants to stay. Pretend to be a part of it. Though it quickly makes him tired, makes him sink deeper into the cushions.

He’s just going to rest his eyes for a little bit…

At least with so much noise, there isn’t much room for the noise in his head.

When he wakes, someone has put a blanket over him, and he’s curled up on his side, one of the pillows tucked under his head. His eyelids are still too heavy to open.

“He seems to sleep a lot,” a voice says, Finn, he thinks.

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t sleep great during the night,” Alfie says. “But it’s also exhausting for him, I reckon, just being awake and keeping track of things. Get through the fucking day. Usually naps a few times even on a good day.”

“And today’s not?”

Alfie falls uncharacteristically silent, so Lizzie answers, “Since the fire there haven’t been many of those. Well, since the asylum, I suppose.”

“Thought we might lose him,” Ada says softly. “Those first days. That he might be too far gone.”

“Well, he’s up and about now, no need to dwell on that,” Arthur says. “Things are looking up!”

They all shush him, and a warm palm covers Tommy’s ear. He shifts into the touch.

“Shh, you’re okay,” Alfie whispers and runs his fingers through his hair. “You’re safe.” The gentle touch lulls him slowly back to sleep, but he’s awake enough to feel it when Alfie scoops him up into his arms. “Right, I’m going to put him to bed now. See if I can get him to keep sleeping.”

“You sure you should be carrying him up all those stairs?” Arthur says. “Been doing an awful lot of limping. I can do it.”

“Sod off. You’re lucky both my arms are otherwise occupied, Shelby,” Alfie grunts. “Good-fucking-night.”

The voices all say something and then he’s floating, weightless, head on Alfie’s shoulder. Perhaps he should let him know he’s awake -he is awake, isn’t he?- but he loves being carried by Alfie. Loves listening to his heartbeat and feel that here, there’s nothing that can hurt him, that he’s safe. That there’s at least one place where he belongs.

#tommy x alfie #tommy shelby #alfie solomons #peaky blinders fanfiction #home to you #breathe again verse #mess

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mvshortcut · 9 months

Note

If this is a weird question, feel free to delete, but in the midst of trying to follow all the Maren/Milk Divorce/Marriage drama lore, I have to ask: why is your nemesis a turkey and how is he (or she or it, does the turkey even have a name? idk...) involved in this? Do you and this particular turkey have a deep complicated backstory of betrayal and hate that has been building to this fight or did you and the turkey just see each other one day and declare yourselves enemies?

I attempted to tell the abridged version of this tale. I really did.

The long and short of it is, despite going to college in a relatively urban environment, I have been haunted and stalked and vexed day and night by a gang of turkeys. Yes, a gang of wild turkeys that live in the city. No, I don't understand it either. They're like oversized pigeons at this point.

The turkeys have been a background presence in my college experience for some time. But, towards the end of last semester, I became aware that the turkeys appeared to be honing in on me specifically.

It started with one turkey, whom I have dubbed Victorian Maiden Turkey because the turkey looks very ill for some reason? very grey and scrawny and rumpled feathers and constantly seems confused about where she is and what is going on. She looks like a fainting waif of a Victorian maiden that needs to be sent to the seaside for her health, where she will magically be cured by the sun and fresh air. (No relation to the fact that she's been moved out of her city home, which is at least composed of 35% asbestos.)

ANYWAYS. so. Victorian Maiden Turkey seemed to like. follow me when I went to class? or at least wait for me? I had a long walk to class, and it was kind of through a residential area, and she'd just be like. hiding out in someone's driveway, staring at me as I walked past? On the way home from class I walked an entirely different route through a different part of town, and she was there too? (I know it's the same turkey because, again, none of the others resemble sickly waifs.) She was literally hiding in the bushes waiting for me to go past. I only noticed her, in fact, because I nearly tripped over her.

This continued for the next couple weeks. I kept running into this turkey, along with a few others, in different parts of town, going to class or the store or on my walks. I spoke to friends and my roommate and none of them reported being tailed by turkeys all over town. Only me. My roommate and my mom both agreed with me that there was only one possible explanation: someone had put out a hit from the turkey mafia on me, and this turkey was sent to scope out the scene and learn my routines, waiting for the best opportunity to strike.

Now, I’m getting nervous because the end of the semester is fast approaching. If these turkeys are gonna make a move, they’re gonna have to do it soon, right? Mentally I’m counting down the days until I can get the hell outta dodge. My days are numbered. And, on top of fearing for my life, I still have to study for finals, since I don’t believe any of my professors will accept “I’m being stalked by the turkey mafia” as an excuse.

Sunday. Last day before finals week begins. Trying to entice myself to push through the home stretch, I grab my picnic blanket, pick up some Chipotle, and bring my work to the park. First big mistake on my part - big open area. No shelter. No witnesses.

Second big mistake: I wear sneakers with laces. I remove my shoes and socks and spread out on my blanket under a tree to better enjoy the warm day. Chekhov is cocking his gun as we speak.

So. As an unsuspecting naive college student, I get straight to work enjoying my Chipotle and ignoring my studying. Then, just as the “ah shit, finals start tomorrow” reality begins to settle in and I finally buckle down on my work, I hear a rustling from over yonder.

Emerging from someone’s driveway and entering the park is—a turkey. Not Victorian Maiden Turkey—he looks entirely too well-fed. In fact he’s a rather hefty-looking fellow. The turkey slowly wends his way over to me; and, as I’ve seen turkeys several times around the city before, I assume we’re cool and proceed to ignore him.

Except—the turkey keeps approaching. We’re gonna call him Turkey Number One. (In the moment, I did not call him “Turkey Number One” for the same reasons that people in the early 1900’s didn’t call The Great War “World War I,” but we’ll get to that later.)

Turkey Number One continues to approach. As he approaches, he gradually becomes larger by puffing himself up. At some moments he simply seems interested in investigating me and my Chipotle and my water bottle. But at other times he begins to make a variety of unhappy turkey noises, but refrains from outright gobbling at me thus far. At this point he’s within 6-10 feet of me. Mildly annoyed—why is this turkey going to act all huffy at me if he’s the one choosing to invade my space? When he has a whole park’s worth of space in which to ignore me?—I stand up, grab my laptop, and make to step away from my blanket for a moment to let the turkey cool off for a moment.

Now, here's where Chekhov begins to chuckle ominously at me from the audience. Remember how I took my shoes off earlier? Well, as I now discover, the tree above me produces some rather sharp variety of seeds, which will easily stab the bottom of my feet if I attempt to step on them without shoes. The whole ground is covered in these seeds.

Not a problem, right?

Think again, Milk. The turkey is impatient and unhappy with me bending down to tie my shoes. As soon as I stoop down, he begins to approach my blanket, gobbling furiously at full volume and fluffing up his feathers. He backs off when I stand up, but every time I attempt to bend to put my shoes on, he resumes his approach.

Okay. This is fine. It’s gonna be just fine. I mean, I’m actively texting good-byes to my friends and mother and roommate, but it’s gonna work out just fine.

And to be honest? It does. Turkey #1 and I go back and forth for a few minutes. He begins to calm down, seems unsure of whether to perform a mating dance at my water bottle or not. Eventually he decides against it and takes his leave and I, with a sigh of relief, resume studying, thinking that the ordeal is over.

The ordeal is not over.

About an hour later, Turkey Number 1 returns from a different angle of the park. And—he’s brought his girlfriend this time, Turkey Number 2! (She is also well-fed and bears no relation to Victorian Maiden Turkey.) I’m still unclear as to whether Turkey Number 1 wanted me to meet his girlfriend, or if he thought I was encroaching on his territory/relationship and was like, “See? I have a girlfriend, man! Back off!” yada yada.

All in all, the second wave goes rather smoothly. Turkey Number 1 is all puff and no bite. Turkey Number 2 is visibly embarrassed by the antics of her boyfriend’s posturing (I’m not a bird behavioral expert but I recognize The Expression. It is universal). She occupies herself with eating seeds for a few minutes, I have some more Chipotle, Turkey Number 1 gradually cools off—it’s nice. After a moment Turkeys Number 1 and 2 exit the park and I, once again, return to my studying.

Lulled into a false sense of security by the last turkey visit, I don’t bat an eye when Turkeys Number 1 and 2 return to the park an hour later. They were fine last time, right? No big deal.

Then, over the horizon, a challenger approaches.

At long last, my friends, allow me to introduce you to my nemesis. Turkey Number 3 is the largest turkey I’ve seen in my life, though I believe he’s at least 80% ruffled feathers and air. And he is mad.

To be perfectly honest I’m still not sure what he was mad at. I believe it was a combination of 1.) mad at Turkey 1 for having a girlfriend he wanted, 2.) mad at me for invading what I now realize is clearly His Park, or 3.) mad at me for being a potential challenger for Turkey 2, which. Isn’t actually his girlfriend. She’s Turkey 1’s girlfriend. But it’s whatever, yknow?

(My mom has offered a potential fourth explanation, which is that Turkey 3 viewed ME as a potential turkey girlfriend, despite the fact that I am neither a girl nor a girlfriend nor a turkey nor a turkey girlfriend, or any combination of these. My mother believes he was attempting to woo me through impressive displays of force. I have henceforth refused to entertain my mother’s suggestion for my own sanity.)

So. Despite attempting to rationally and calmly explain to Turkey 3, my soon-to-be nemesis, that I am not interested in stealing anyone’s turkey girlfriend, he refuses to be placated. He puffs up larger than I thought possible for a turkey and charges directly at my blanket. Not only does he make deafening enraged gobbling noises that can certainly be heard halfway across the city, he also emits a variety of enraged puffing and huffing and squawking noises. Did you guys know that turkeys can extend all of their feathers at once, creating a “blast-off” sound effect that simultaneously propels them forwards? Neat, right? I didn’t know that either!

Now I do.

Having failed on Potential Reason Turkey Is Mad Number 3, I move to Potential Reason Turkey is Mad Number Two. I attempt to explain, again calmly and rationally, that if the turkey will just allow me a moment to put on my shoes so I don’t stab my feet on the seeds and roll up my blanket, I will gladly vacate his park.

Despite clearly wanting me to leave, Turkey 3 resists my each and every attempt to do so. He maintains a respectful 6-foot social distancing if I remain standing. The second I bend down and reach for my shoes, however, he puffs and gobbles and charges at me. And so I straighten up, my nemesis backs off, and the cycle repeats.

Friends. My absolute bastard of a newfound nemesis holds me hostage there for thirty minutes like this. And he’s good at it, too. Sometimes he’ll give me false hope too, wander off to fight Turkey Number 1 for his girlfriend’s hand/wing (said girlfriend is still munching seeds off the ground, clearly disgusted with them both.) I’ll take advantage of his distraction, bend down and reach for my shoes—and my nemesis will come charging out from behind a tree or materialize out of thin air, squawking and gobbling and puffing with the force of a thousand suns. (I still have no idea how he knew when I was reaching for my shoes. He must’ve had some ingrained sort of nemesis-sense.)

Now, you might be asking, Milk, how on earth did you escape? Did you pull off some clever and daring maneuver? No. It was because someone else happened to be stupider than I was.

We’ll call him Baseball Cap Guy. Baseball Cap Guy enters the park, sees the turkeys, and decides it’s a really smart idea to attempt to PET Turkey Number Two on the head.

That went about as well as you would expect.

Turkey Numbers 1 and 3 immediately put aside their differences to tag team Baseball Cap Guy. Inspirational, really. Turkey Number 2 resumes eating berries and seeds, supremely unbothered and supremely disgusted.

And I, Milk, take advantage of the commotion to jam my shoes onto my feet, snatch up my blanket, and hightail it out of the park. I use the remaining 5% of my battery to inform my mother and friends and roommate that I have not, in fact, been murdered by the turkey mafia. Then I made straight for home, hoping against hope that Victorian Maiden Turkey wasn’t tailing me or hiding behind a bush waiting to trip me and suchlike.

Now, it would be easy to think that the Baseball Cap Guy was an absolute idiot for trying to pet a wild turkey. I’m not saying that’s an incorrect conclusion. However, there was a point during the first wave where Turkey Number One was approached by an older lady on her afternoon power walk. I was hoping against hope I wasn’t about to watch a sweet old lady get mauled by a turkey. She, delighted, whips open her phone and begins to coo—actually coo— at the bird like she’s his auntie, like ohh, what a handsome little man you are! Your feathers are so soft—and how puffy you are, mister! and all that.

And—Turkey Number 1 absolutely eats that up. He struts back and forth, posing for her and clucking at her and letting her take her fill of photos for a solid 5 minutes.

So. My current hypothesis is that there is a Continuum of Turkey Vibes, ranging from Old Lady (preen for photoshoot) to Milk (???) to Baseball Cap Guy (attack on sight).

And uh. That’s the story, folks. I survived finals, returned home unscathed, and have spent the summer anticipating a rematch. I’ve also spent some time reflecting—it’s strange, having a nemesis. I’ve always wanted a nemesis. I didn’t quite picture them as a turkey, per say, but for some reason it just feels right, yknow? I think we’re compatible. I both dread and oddly look forward to our next meeting.

You’ll be pleased to know that the first thing I did upon returning to school this fall was go back to the park, ya know, like a fool. The first trip was pretty quiet. I introduced Turkey Number Two and some of her besties to my mom. I went back once to study at the park. That time, I met no less than 12 turkeys, many of which were little turklings. I think I introduced them to my mom, so I get to meet the family now? Unsure. Anyways.

I also witnessed a man, with a golden retriever and a turkey sitting side-by-side in front of him. The man tossed dog treats one after another to the golden retriever and to the turkey. (Spoiler alert: this one ended with a pack of five turkeys chasing the man and his dog down the street once he ran out of treats.)

Fun fact! Did you know turkeys can fly? No, really—not just “hold themselves aloft for short distances” but like “fly up into extremely tall trees, making a colossal ruckus as they beat their wings rapidly and gobble and yell?”

Anyways, once it was growing quite dark and impossible to make out anything other than the silhouettes of no less than five gigantic birds looming high in the branches above me, ready to launch themselves directly on top of my head at a moment’s notice, I decided it was time to exit the park for the evening.

I still haven’t run into my nemesis yet. That’s okay—I think I’m beginning to infiltrate the turkey ranks a bit. And I know he hasn’t forgotten about me. He’s just out there, biding his time.

Please admire these photographs of my nemesis as well as his magnificent ass. Thank you for your time.

#I. have no explanation I blacked out for an hour and this happened. I'm sorry #milk/maren divorce/marriage drama #not mbs #legal disclaimer Turkey Number Two bears no relation to Number Two Mysterious Benedict Society

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