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kykyonthemoon · 8 days

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Blue Ribbon — Distracted from his work by you, he decided to use your special blue ribbon for another purpose.

ಇ. Zayne x Female Reader/MC

ಇ. Tags: fluff, established relationship, MC being a baby, tied hands, soft bite

ಇ. Word count: ~1k4

ಇ. Requested by Ann.

ಇ. Masterlist

It initially started out as a date between you and Zayne.

You had planned ahead of time, opted for a light spring outfit, and wore a long blue ribbon in your hair with two tiny snowflake-shaped charms at both ends. You decided on it because it reminded you of Zayne.

You arrived at the hospital fifteen minutes before the scheduled date. Zayne was yet to leave his office. Yvonne informed you about an important meeting that Dr. Zayne needed to attend. You sat and waited outside his office for a while. Then, as if he knew you had arrived, he opened the door and welcomed you inside.

"Would that bother your work?" You inquired, and Zayne shook his head.

"Not a problem. The meeting has ended. There are only a few more things I need to take care of. Is it alright if you wait a little longer?"

You nodded. The office door closed behind him. For nearly the next hour, you obediently waited in the room. Feeling bored, you took out your phone to play with, wandered about the room, or sipped some tea. Zayne was still working intently on the computer as if you were not present. Sometimes, you could not help but feel a little sorry for yourself.

He failed to even glance at you, let alone praise you on how gentle your makeup was that day. Despite the fact that you were fully aware of Zayne's work ethic and the significance of his work, that afternoon was intended to be for you rather than the computer. The main reason you disagreed with it was that he lately had to work hard for several days in a row. You made him commit to spend time with you that afternoon. However, something unexpected occurred, causing his shift to be prolonged.

You felt both saddened and disappointed. You would sometimes approach him and poke him, as if to remind him that you still existed and that he needed to interact with you, even if only for a few minutes. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, his hands raced on the keyboard, and he spoke:

“Don't mess around. I'm almost done.”

Hearing that, you sighed again. When he stated he was almost done, it meant that his session lasted for nearly another hour. It was no longer dusk. You lamented your plan to go for an afternoon walk around Linkon City. But seeing him as a workaholic upset you so much. Finally, you decided that you would carry out your "scheme".

You got between him and the monitor. At first, you just stood there obstructing his view. Zayne gently drew you out of there when you took the opportunity to take his hand and sat on his lap. Zayne seemed astonished, but his intense concentration prevented him from saying anything further to you. He let you sit on his lap, arms wrapped around you, and resumed typing.

Anger swelled in your heart. Even though you had no idea how urgent his business was, you did not appreciate being left out on your own date. He made a promise to spend the afternoon with you, and if there was an emergency, he would certainly let you know and reschedule the date rather than keep you waiting like this. Apparently, he just loved to work overtime.

In Zayne's lap, your body started to move. You deliberately turned around to wrap both arms around Zayne's neck. Your whisper found its way to his ear:

“Doctor Zayne, you promised to spend the afternoon with me. But you don't pay attention to me even just for a minute."

"Be still." Zayne's voice remained courteous and full of patience. "I still have another urgent meeting—"

"No!" You interrupted him. “Your shift ended a few hours ago.”

You felt Zayne's breath on your forehead as he replied: "Good girl. Please wait a bit longer."

But you chose not to be good. You gave him a pout before pressing your body close to his chest. You seized him firmly and kept urging:

“Take a break! Take a break! Doctor Zayne!”

Zayne was literally an iceberg. He was unmoved by your whining. You grew so helpless that you nibbled hard on his ear.

“Hmmph!”

Perhaps that was Zayne's limit. His expression stiffened. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you off his lap. His other hand swiftly removed the blue ribbon from your head, forcing your already tidy hair to fall down.

You blinked with astonishment. You could only stand there and watch Zayne knot both of your hands with that ribbon. The knot was so tight that your wrists could not move at all. Zayne rose up, brought you down in his chair, and frowned.

"Stay there. I'm heading to the meeting hall and will be back later."

After finishing his speech, he picked up a file on the table and quickly walked out. After the door was closed, you sat still in disbelief of what had just transpired. It appeared like he had bound your hands using a surgeon's knot, which is widely used in surgery. This sort of knot required a lot of work to remove. You moved your hands around, just to make those minimal snowflake charms swing as if they were mocking you that Zayne had actually used his Evol to keep you in place.

You were speechless that Zayne would do that only to stop you from disturbing him. You were alone in his office, stunned and bitter. Perhaps you went too far when you bit him. You should have been more reasonable and waited for him to finish his work. You had waited for him longer than this before. Had you upset him? You were torn between sulking at him and apologizing first.

Zayne returned about a half hour later to undo the knot for you. He took you out to supper and then returned to your apartment. Throughout the ride, you spoke nothing to Zayne but a few quick responses as necessary. You still were not sure how to adequately express how you felt for him. What if he got mad and was ready to tie you up again?

But you were not expecting Zayne to grasp your hands as soon as you arrived home. He took a close look and massaged your wrists.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

He asked. You withdrew your hands again and turned away.

"No."

He could tell you were sulking by the tone of your speech. He pulled you back and embraced you from behind. It was his turn to explain:

"I'm really sorry. Today's work was so urgent that I could not postpone it until tomorrow. On another note, you may do whatever you want when it's just the two of us; but at work, it's not a smart idea. Since, if you continue to be naughty like that, I would…”

“What would you do, Doctor Zayne?” You were curious, and got the urge to tease him even more.

“I would be too distracted.”

"Alright. I'm sorry, too..." You smiled and spoke sweetly, yet there was a hint of huff in your voice. "But you didn't need to tie me up like that."

You struggled like a worm in his embrace. Zayne easily held you tightly with just one arm, the other hand stroked your hair.

"Alright. It is my fault. I should not have tied you up and left you at the office. I will compensate for you, okay?"

You remained silent while waiting for him to offer a good proposal.

"My entire day off tomorrow is dedicated to you."

"Hmm." You seemed less than satisfied. You turned around and gazed into Zayne's eyes. "I still want one more thing."

Zayne grinned, "Sure."

"You don't know what I'm going to ask for, and you've already agreed? Once you've said it, you can't take it back!"

He patted your head and reaffirmed: "I won't take it back."

You smiled as if you were plotting something, then pulled out your blue ribbon and lifted it in front of Zayne. It was time for him to feel the thrill of being tied with his own surgeon's knot. You requested:

"Show me how to tie that knot!"

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l4ysinterlude · 3 months

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idk ab yall but ts turned me on. like DAMN… hope he can eat me out until i cry

i know lilith and eve was getting some GOOD head.

#black writers #x reader #fanficton #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin lilith #hazbin eve

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sydneighsays · 1 month

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More out of context from my personal self-indulgent post phantom liberty fic

Nothing like a little eyeliner during a mental breakdown 💅🏼

#fanart #fanficton #cyberpunk fan art #cyberpunk phantom liberty #cyberpunk 2077 #cbp2077 #kerry eurodyne #cyberpunk kerry #kerry x v #my v #male v #technically it's not kerry x v since they're not really dating anymore post canon #I have plans that I cannot discuss because the haters will sabotage me #I hate Kerry's new hair it's getting chopped

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all-mirth-no-matter · 10 months

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Time After Time | Chapter Ten

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: Madam Despoina gives you a little more insight, as well as a significant gift.

Warning: language, alcohol, smoking, ethnic slur

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 10: Curses

This tired old machine is a-rumbling (oh my, oh my). Singing songs to the secrets behind my eyes (oh my, oh my). All my aching bones are trembling, and I may yet fall apart. Won’t you stay with me, my darling, when the war starts in my heart? Oh ashes, ashes, dust to dust. The devil’s after both of us. Oh, lay my curses out to rest, make a mercy out of me. — Curses, The Crane Wives

“His name was Dimitris.”

You frowned at Madam Despoina’s first words to you after she entered the caravan.

“May I sit?”

Instead of replying, Tommy moved to grab the chair against the wall and sat it next to the fireplace, offering his hand to assist her down.

The old woman thanked him as she sat, lifting her head back to you. Her worn voice was solemn, tired even, as she went on.

“Dimitris joined my camp some odd years ago, having traveled from the old country. For most of his time with us, he was a good man — hard worker, good soldier, did what he was told. Recently, he became more aggressive. First it was with the women, then fighting amongst the men. When I discovered that he’d been selling information and stealing… well, I displayed a lapse in judgment with my punishment. He was banished, with a threat of death if he returned. Apparently, he still has friends in the camp. They informed him of your arrival, of your importance. I believe he snuck in during the bustle of preparation—”

“He escorted us into the camp,” Tommy pointed out, interrupting. “He escorted us to your wagon.”

The Madam’s face remained unchanged, her eyes not leaving yours while addressing Tommy.

“A breech that I am investigating with serious severity, Mr. Shelby, I assure you.”

“He dead?” His question made your gaze move from her to him, causing you to inhale sharply.

What the hell had your life become where conversations about gypsy fortune telling and gangster murders had become just another Sunday night?

Tommy’s eyes flicked to yours before returning to the Madam’s. For an insecure moment, you wondered if he considered you weak for your reaction.

“When we find him, he will be.”

The woman’s reply felt like cold water as you realized the creep was still out there. Her eyes softened as she held on to your gaze.

“I apologize, mikrí mou màntissa. This was not what I envisioned for our meeting.”

You swallowed the irony, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

She cleared her throat before speaking again. “May I ask — what did he want from you?”

You took a deep breath before shrugging. You had no idea how long ago the event had occurred, could have been an hour or ten, either way you just wanted to push it as far from your brain as possible. It didn’t help that you were on the tail end of your buzz — that and the adrenaline (and your newfound ability to disassociate and compartmentalize) made the memory feel fuzzy.

“Um, well,” you began, speaking for the first time since the Madam entered the caravan. “Originally he thought I was Anastasia Romanov,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you said it.

Tommy’s brow creased, “Who?”

You missed the way Madam Despoina watched you answer his question.

“The Romanovs? The Russian royal family that was just killed like—” you paused as your brain tried to do the quick math. “Holy shit that was just this year,” you muttered to yourself, though the other two in the room could certainly hear you.

“We heard somethin’ about that in France. A revolution, ya?” Tommy pondered, reaching into his jacket pocket on the hanger to grab a cigarette while shrugging — as if hearing one of the biggest historical events ever was just no big deal. “Who was she, exactly?”

Realization of just how disconnected you were from the rest of the world began to set in. You’d been here for more than three months, and the only real news you’d been privy to had been the war end. And that was only because Ada had shoved the newspaper in your face.

You made a mental note to start saving enough to purchase newspapers when you got back into the city. If you were going to be here, you wanted to know what was going on.

“She was a daughter of the tsar,” the Madam answered for you. “A princess. When the family was taken to be executed, it was rumored that the princess escaped.”

You nodded, “Creep-o said he thought that’s who was coming to the camp when Madam Despoina said they had special company.”

The Madam hummed her understanding. “We’ve often had queens and princesses come to bargain for good fortune. Dimitris thought you were the princess.”

“He said he knew I wasn’t Russian though due to my accent. I may have implied with my tone that he was an idiot for believing the rumor… he didn’t like that.” You grew angry at the memory of him grabbing you, instinctively wrapping your own arms around yourself. “Still, he said that you thought I was someone important. That he could use me somehow to make him money.”

Somehow was beginning to feel a lot like selling as you said the words out loud. The words sat bitterly at the tip of your tongue as your anger began to bubble.

“What did he think he was going to get away with, huh? Kidnapping me and holding me hostage? Handcuffing me to a table and forcing me to give seances? The nerve—“ you fumed as you grew lost in your own imagination. “What psychopath thinks he can do that? I can’t even tell fucking fortunes! I’m not important! I can’t—“

The tears surprised you as your anger began to catch in your throat. This was the second time today you’d began to cry out of frustration, exhaustion, everything. And you hated yourself even more for it.

You felt weak again.

Your eyes squeezed shut as you tried to control your breathing, and suddenly you felt two hands cradling your face. Expecting to see Madam Despoina, who’d been sitting closer to you, you were surprised when you opened your eyes to see it was Tommy who was kneeling in front of you, his own face inches from yours.

You felt ashamed again for your weakness, dropping your eyes and trying to push him away. But he held on to you and forced you to look at him again. You prepared to see disappointment or pity in his eyes, but instead you saw the same reassurance that you’d almost come to rely on in the depth of his crystal blues.

“That won’t ever happen,” he said confidently. “You’re not a doll, remember? And you are strong. If the Delphi don’t find this fucker, the Peaky Blinders will. Either way, you’ll never see him again, you understand me, Y/N?”

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly, the tears no longer falling as he wiped what remained off your cheeks.

“I have a second reason for coming by,” Madam Despoina’s words broke the spell between you and Tommy, who stood up and resumed his original position between you two women and the doorway. She reached inside her baggy skirt pocket and pulled out a small wooden box, extending it to you. “I wanted to offer you this gift.”

Your brow furrowed as you took it.

In the Madam’s hands, it appeared to be an ordinary box. But when you ran your fingers across the edges and held it toward the light of the fireplace, you could just make out the intricate carvings. It reminded you of the inside of this caravan. On the lid of the box was the Delphi symbol — you couldn’t help the way your pointer finger moved from the trunk of the tree upward, through the branches and down one side of the circle, across the roots, and up the other side until you completed the path.

“It’s beautiful,” you couldn’t help but breathe out as you finally lifted the lid. Your brow furrowed again as you examined a pouch of leaves and small vile of water inside.

Madam nodded. “Boil some water and let the leaves soak, then pour in the water from the vile before drinking the entire cup.”

“Tea? You want me to make tea?” You looked between her and the box. “Um, why?”

She smiled. “My gift. It’s one final conversation with your mother.”

Your jaw dropped slightly, the words falling out absentmindedly, “What? You’ve got to be joking.” You looked down at the box suspiciously. “What is this then, drugs?”

“These are passed from our ancestry, they’re very valuable and once designated cannot be transferred to another. The water is from the original springs of Delphi, the leaves are from the gardens of the temple.”

“The leaves that gave the priestesses epilepsies?” you questioned, raising your brow as your suspicions were confirmed. “You want to drug me and pretend like whatever hallucination I might get is some divine vision from my dead mother?”

The woman gave you a smile, “You still disbelieve, don’t you, young girl?”

You set the box down on the bed next to you and shook your head. “I mean no disrespect, Madam Despoina—“

The old woman lifted swiftly from her seat and reached for your hand. Out of surprise and instinct, thinking she must have fallen, you jumped off the bed and squeezed her hand, matching her firm grip with your own.

The room flashed white. The Madam before you was all you could see, but as your eyes adjusted, your vision began to shift.

Her face — it began to change. You recognized the woman’s face, something ancient and beautiful, with eyes that glowed that brilliant gold you’d seen in your dreams. Another flash, and the face began to morph into so many faces, one after the other. Hundreds of women, all unrecognizable and yet something familiar pulled at your gut.

Suddenly the shifting stopped as you saw your mother’s face. You gasped, taking a step forward before your mothers face morphed again. This time, your foot moved backwards as you looked upon your own reflection.

Snapping your hand out of the old woman’s hold, your vision cleared. You were catching your breath as you found the familiar brown eyes of Madam Despoina, the caravan surrounding you again, a knowing smile pulling at her cheek.

Your eyes found Tommy’s, who had taken a few cautious steps toward you both and was looking at you concerned. “You okay?”

“I saw— I, I thought I saw—“ you breathed out, your eyes moving back to the Madam as you held your hand to your chest.

“Drink the tea. Talk with your mother. She will be able to tell you now what she could never before.”

She turned to leave before stopping. When she turned back to you, she reached out for your hand again. You flinched at her touch, expecting the same thing to happen again, but nothing did.

“During these winter times, our camp retreats back to our home ground to prepare for the cold. We drink and dine as is tradition during these darker and colder months until it is time to travel again. But this year I knew we had to wait — that we were waiting for you.”

She squeezed your hand as she held yours between both of hers.

“Today I have felt closer to our god than I have in many years. I had nearly forgotten what his light felt like, but with you, I can feel his warmth again. Won’t you stay?”

“We can’t,” Tommy answered for you, his voice stern. “We promised we’d be back ‘fore Christmas Eve.”

In the back of your mind, you knew that was a lie. Tommy had already told you he’d prepared for you both to be gone for as long as a week’s time. But you didn’t dare question him now.

Besides, you felt as though her question wasn’t just a courtesy to stay tonight, or even for a few days. The question felt like an invitation — to stay with the Delphi family.

For a split moment, you considered her offer. You were already a time traveling fish out of water, and you’d bet money that she knew more than what she’d even revealed tonight. Maybe you were here to find them — maybe this is where you were meant to be.

But your eyes instinctively looked to Tommy at the thought, and your chest tightened.

Maybe it was a mistake, but that stupid part of your brain or hormones or whatever it was controlling you couldn’t leave Birmingham.

The Shelbys.��

Tommy.

Madam Despoina hummed an understanding, her eyes watching your internal struggle. “Then you should leave now. There are some here who are under investigation of helping Dimitris, and it may not be as safe as I’d have wished for you here.” Her eyes dropped in shame.

“If you thought we may be in danger, why would you ask for me to stay?”

“I’m an old woman, mikrí mou màntissa.” She repeated the foreign words again, and her soft smile made you sense they were a term of endearment. “Sometimes I’m more selfish than I’m proud of. I will see you again someday, Cassandra. Until then, remember what I told you —“

“Stay true to myself.”

“Aye. You will feel like you can’t use your second sight for fear of alteration, or alienation. But it will be your asset in the times to come. And it can save those around you, if you let it.”

She looked to Tommy then, whose brow creased at the conversation.

The Madam smirked. “Our god is closer to you than you think.” Her attention moved back to you. “Listen to your mother. Break the cursed chain.”

She turned again to leave.

“Wait,” you stepped forward as she paused. “Why are you giving me this now? You told me before that it wasn’t the time. What’s changed?”

Madam Despoina let out a humored hum. “You’re not the only one who gets visions, love.” At the doorway, she stopped and turned to Tommy. “Remember what I told you as well, Apollon.”

With that, she left the caravan.

Tommy ran his hand through his hair as he let out a breath. “We’re leaving. We’re gettin’ in our wagon and gettin’ the fuck out of this nut house.”

He began to get dressed, throwing on his gun holster over his shoulders before putting on his jacket.

Your brain was processing the name Madam had called Tommy. “She called you—“

“Get dressed,” he instructed, ignoring you and handing you the bag and your shoes before grabbing the rest of his clothes.

You pulled out one of the clean skirts and pulled it over your nightgown. You grabbed your jacket and threw it around you before shoving your feet into your shoes. Stuffing the rest of your items in your bag, you gingerly picked up the box Madam Despoina had given you and set it on top before latching it closed.

Tommy returned, offering you his hand to lead you out of the caravan and through the dark, clutching the bag close to your chest. The wagon came into view, Johnny Dogs hustling to secure Midnight.

“Tommy, she called you—“

He shushed you, his eyes flashing down at you before making a quick scan around you both. “Not now.”

You huffed. “Never now.”

“Soon,” he reassured, giving your hand a squeeze before jumping in the back of the wagon while Johnny appeared at your side. “All clear?”

“Aye, Tom,” Dogs replied. His usual jovial vibe was gone tonight, serious as he addressed his friend.

“Good. Up ya come,” Tommy offered you his hand as he stood in the wagon.

Your brow furrowed, expecting to sit with him in the drivers seat like you had earlier.

“There’s a bed in here, and some blankets. It’s the middle of the night and you’ve had a long day. You already fell asleep once today, I don’t need you fallin’ over on the drive back.”

Your instinct was to fight back, prove him wrong. Before you could reply, he squatted closer to you.

“I won’t have you sitting like a fuckin’ target in case we run into trouble on the road. I don’t expect it, but I’m a cautious man, ‘member? Get in the wagon, and let me keep you safe.”

“She called you Apollo,” you whispered, looking between his eyes.

It felt like you were standing in a room with thousands of puzzle pieces, and every time you thought you’d found a connection, thought you’d gotten a handle on the full picture, a new piece would pop up and throw you off your track again. You felt like you were slowly losing your mind.

He softened his look, grabbing your hand and lifting you into the wagon. You let him walk you toward the front before gently pushing you down onto the small mattress pad. “Rest. Once we’re safe, you can explain to me why.”

You swallowed as he stood back up and climbed through the front flap of the wagon and sat on the bench. Johnny Dogs wished you a small farewell and you gave him a sympathetic smile before he secured the back of the wagon.

Despite everything that’d happened to you tonight, you’d enjoyed the man’s company and hopped to see him again. If Tommy allowed.

You could see Tommy settling in his seat from your spot, grateful for the secured tarp on the side your head rested against to cut the cool night air as the wagon began to move forward.

The wheel hit a bump, causing your bag to jump against your leg. You picked it up and secured it against you, not wanting anything to happen to the box inside.

The box filled with the magic drugs, that is.

What were the chances that the leaves and water in that box were actually from the Temple of Apollo in Greece? Was it old? New? There’s no way something like that could have survived all this time, and there was definitely no way that if it had, someone would just hand it over to a complete stranger for nothing.

And the flashes that you saw — was it the drinks you had tonight? You had a hard time believing that the woman you just left would have you drugged without your knowledge — but the cynical side of you, the cautious side as Tommy might say, couldn’t exclude the possibility entirely.

No, you shook your head, trying to reason your way out of that thought. Why would a woman who already had you drugged offer you more drugs and tell you what they were? If she’d done it once, what was stopping her from doing it again without your knowledge? She could have made the tea herself and fed it to you easily at any point during the night. But instead she gave it to you in pieces, as a gift, and told you exactly what it was (more or less - you still weren’t entirely convinced).

So if you weren’t drugged, then you had to have just been ole fashioned drunk.

You shook your head at yourself again, getting more comfortable on the mattress until you were laying down, the wagon wheels continuing to move along underneath you.

Nothing like that had ever happened to you after a night of drinking before. And there were definitely nights you’d been way drunker than you had been tonight.

The only time you’d seen visions like that before, with the white flash and everything, was the night you traveled back and saw Tommy in the mud.

But why Tommy? was the last question you asked yourself before your eyes began to drift closed and you wrapped the blanket around yourself.

And why did Madam Despoina call him Apollo?

——

“Cassandra.”

Your god reached out to you, his once ice blue eyes had now returned to their brilliant gold, his look was full of concern.

“You just said—“ your breath was short at the previous feeling of dread as you grasped at the front of your dress to steady your heart.

He cupped your face with his hand, “I said that I didn’t expect to fall for you, Cassandra.”

No, you thought. There was rage, there was anger. He said he cursed you… didn’t he?

But as you looked up at him now, the face you saw was the same face you’d been gazing upon night after night. You hadn’t intended to fall for the palace gardener. The first night you’d come out here was the day you pledged your allegiance to priesthood. You’d sought solace, a place to sit with your thoughts to ensure that you were making the right decision.

The gardener had surprised you, his voice soft and kind as he asked if you were okay. After that, you’d come to rely on the man as a confidant. Eventually, you were spending most of your day awaiting the hours until you could see his sweet face again.

But now, everything was different. He wasn’t a man at all — he was a god. He was your god, confessing his affection for you.

And yet still, you touched your lips at the memory of his cold blue eyes, his angry words, his curse.

His brow creased as you pulled your face away, turning back to the garden ledge as you looked out to the sea. Your eyes focused on the horizon line, where you saw ships sailing toward your kingdom. Thousands of ships - an armada. They were racing forward, growing closer and closer to the shoreline, launching hundreds of arrows into the air.

“We’re under attack!”

You turned back toward your lord and pointed, but he only shook his head. “There’s nothing out there.”

Whipping your head back toward the sea, your eyes searched for the sight of the ships, but they were gone. The seas were calm once again.

“But—“

An explosion caught your attention, pulling your gaze back down toward the square of the city. It was on fire — people were screaming, children crying. Men in foreign armor raced through the streets on horses, swinging swords and axes, killing your citizens.

You blinked — they were gone.

‘You’re cursed, Cassandra! You’re cursed!—‘

“Y/N!”

You jumped at the shout, turning to find Harry standing at the end of the bar with his arms crossed.

“I don’t pay ya to daydream. We’ve got a packed ‘ouse now snap out of it.”

“Sorry, Harry.” You flushed at your absent mindedness, picking up the rag and moving to give the counter a good swipe before heading toward the first man with his arm reached forward.

But through the monotony of the job, your mind couldn’t help but wonder back toward your dream in the wagon.

Tommy had woken you up the same as he had on the drive to the camp. Clinging to his arms, you found yourself gasping for air and your cheeks damp from tears. Embarrassed once again for waking up in a panic, you began to wonder if you’d ever have a normal night’s sleep ever again.

Despite the nightmare, you’d somehow managed to sleep through most of the drive back into town. You rode up front for the remaining drive back while Tommy hit you with the realities of going back into society.

“There’s something we need to discuss before we get back to Small Heath,” Tommy had started in his serious voice. “Only Polly knows where we truly went yesterday. Arthur, John, and Ada know a version of the truth — they know we were lookin’ for a gypsy clan that might have had some of your last surviving family members, but we’re gonna tell ‘em we were unsuccessful in our journey. That they were supposed to be outside the fairground, but they were nowhere to be found, so we came back and you decided to give up the search. Got it?”

You had nodded. “And Polly? What are we going to tell her?”

“That’s up to you,” he surprised you with that response. “But one thing I want to make clear. That we saw Johnny Dogs and what was discussed with him will be told to no one, ya?”

“Can I ask why?” You threw the question out as a tester — it wasn’t a no to his confirmation, but you were curious if he’d shut you down or trust you.

Tommy didn’t respond right away, staring straight ahead at Midnight pulling the wagon forward. You swallowed, ready to admit defeat, when Tommy cleared his throat.

“Most of what we do is illegal. To make any real money, to gain any real power, we need to expand into some legitimacy. It’s the only way to break out of Birmingham.”

“And Billy Kimber has something to do with that?”

Slowly, Tommy nodded. “Think so. Still working out the details, but it starts with Johnny Dogs. That’s all I’m willin’ to say now.”

You thought about the words exchanged between the two men, about what Tommy said on Saturday about domination. You wondered if his ambition extended further than just working with the racetrack owner, or if he wanted to control it.

Tommy didn’t seem like a man who limited his ambitions.

“Got it. Not a word, then.”

You paused, contemplating what you were going to say next and deciding to just go with it. What the hell, right?

“I still think you should look into running alcohol into America. The probability of a prohibition is higher than you’re estimating.”

“Thought you said you weren’t a fortune teller,” Tommy rose his brow up as he looked at you. Beneath you, the dirt roads had transitioned into cobblestone, indicating an end to your ride.

You’d shrugged, “I’m not. I’m just a woman on your payroll, who sometimes knows things, offering you business advice.”

Tommy watched you for a moment more, but chose not to push you on it further. Neither of you said anything as he made his way to your doorstep. You’d mentioned wanting to change and then head over to the Garrison, hopping to mend the nagging feeling you had of Harry being angry with you and offering to work a shift that evening.

“I’ll see you later then,” Tommy had said as you turned to leave, watching as you clung to your bag and ascended the stairs.

To his promise, Tommy walked through the doors of the Garrison some odd hours later, an entourage of men behind him. Harry hustled to shoo people out of the snug before escorting the men into the private room.

This had been a part of the deal Tommy had made with Harry, apparently. The Garrison was not only protected by the Peaky Blinders, but now it was officially the pub of choice for the gang. That meant that any time a Peaky boy was in the premises, the snug had to be available. It also meant that anything a Shelby man ordered was on the house, no questions asked.

Tommy still dropped a coin at the snug window when he asked for a bottle of whiskey and six tumblers.

“Irish or Scotch?” You asked, a smirk playing at your lips as you watched him attempt to stop his own smile.

Without his response, you grabbed the Irish Whiskey and glasses, circling the bar and turning into the private room. Tommy was taking his seat as the men around him grabbed for the cups, Arthur electing to grab the bottle and open it. He poured himself a shot first, then Tommy, then John, before passing it to the other three in the room.

You vaguely recognized the three non-brothers from the betting shop, and part of you wondered if any of them were the book men you audited as you began to wipe down the table.

Arthur was patting John on the shoulder, sounding already drunk as he went on about the boy finally getting out of that house. You took a quick look at John, who looked tired as he mumbled something about the kids driving him mad.

You smiled at that, silently wondering if John being out meant that Martha was starting to feel better. You made a note to ask Tommy about her later as you asked aloud if anyone needed anything else.

“That’ll be all, Y/N,” Tommy answered for everyone.

You gave a friendly smile, eyes scanning the room before landing on one of the non-brothers, who was watching you quite intently. As a barmaid, you were either invisible or the subject of lustful attention, so a part of you was used to the creepy looks and just bid your time until the man either hit on you or lost interest. Not expecting this kind of attention here, with Tommy around, you felt caught off guard. Awkwardly, you nodded and left the room, leaving the doors open behind you.

Some time passed as you worked the room, the crowd slowly beginning to lessen as the night went on. You were working on the pub books, taking advantage of the lull, when the man who’d been watching you from the snug approached the bar.

“You’re Ada’s friend, ya?”

You couldn’t stop the quick look through the snug window, noticing that the other Peaky boys were still in there, working on their second bottle. “Um, yeah,” you answered, offering him a polite smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Need something?”

“Ya, a mild.”

Trying to control your annoyed face at having to pause your book work — seriously, there was no way you could ever leave Harry in charge of the books ever again — you rose from your seat to prepare his drink. You could feel him watch you as you worked.

“I’ve seen ya round the Shelby house with Ada and Ms. Polly. I work there, with the boys. Names Benji.”

Benji — you recognized the name as one of the bookkeepers at the betting shop. He was one you’d been suspicious of for a while now.

The first couple big offenders of stealing from the shop had disappeared some time after you brought them to Polly’s attention. At the time, your innocent mind believed they’d just been fired and moved on — but now you knew better. The chances that those men were still breathing were slim.

With Benji’s records, his error rate decreased after the first few men were outed, and you always suspected that he was biding his time before he began to steal again. You just had to wait until you had more evidence.

For a paranoid moment, as Benji’s eyes scanned you over, you wondered if he knew about your secret employment. He was a Peaky boy, after all. He lifted his hand over the bar counter as an offering when you set his drink down.

“Y/N,” you offered out of ceremony, your smile still not quite genuine as you shook his hand.

“Y/N,” he repeated, donning his own smile as he looked at you again appreciatively. He wasn’t unhandsome, so you imagine that smile worked on most girls. But after what happened to you last night and your suspicions about his bookkeeping, you felt yourself taking a step back out of caution. “Next time you’re in the shop, say hi.”

You watched as he took his drink and swaggered back into the snug. Part of you was slightly surprised at his boldness. You were a friend of Ada’s — his employer’s sister. Plus, you and Tommy—

You scoffed at yourself. You and Tommy what? You weren’t a couple — you didn’t think so, anyway. He hadn’t gone to kiss you, or even offer to walk you to your apartment door when he’d dropped you off. What’d happened last night before Madam Despoina interrupted had been… hormones. A mixture of adrenaline, alcohol, and an attempt to grasp onto some kind of sanity after a series of crazed events.

He hadn’t spoken of the moment since — hell, he hadn’t spoken of any of it since, something that was also making you anxious.

Out of instinct, your eyes moved to the window of the snug where you could see Tommy sitting comfortably in his chair. As if feeling your gaze, his own eyes moved to meet yours. You jumped slightly, feeling as if you’d been caught, and proceeded to go back to checking on the other patrons in the room.

You’d settled back to working on the inventory, almost finished when the Peaky boys loudly made their exit of the pub. Surprised, Arthur shouted a drunken goodbye to you, even using your name as he waved and stumbled out the doorway with his arm around John. Benji turned and gave you a wink before following the group out the door. Tommy stood back, watching the whole thing before walking over to the counter.

“What was that about?” He asked, gesturing over his shoulder to the doorway.

“What? Arthur saying goodbye? Not sure, but it’s a big improvement over him calling me a whore or just grunting at me—“

“Not Arthur, Hancock.”

Your brow creased. “Who?”

“Benji,” he added, and you realized Hancock must be his last name. Tommy poured the last of the bottle into his drink.

You stood up from your seat again and walked over toward Tommy, taking a scan of the room. There were only two young men in the corner finishing up their last round, but you still kept your voice low. “Who knows about me?”

It was Tommy’s turn to furrow his brow. “‘Dya mean?”

“My job, at the house.”

Tommy nodded, understanding. “Just immediate family — me, Pol, Arthur, John, and Ada.”

“And before you guys returned?”

He shrugged, “Just Pol and Ada, I believe. What’s this about?”

“I was just paranoid, I guess. I thought for a moment Benji may have suspected me, but now I think he was just coming on to me.”

Tommy’s back straightened at your comment, lifting his glass for another drink. “And is that somethin’ that you want?”

“No,” you answered immediately, watching his shoulders immediately relax.

“Good,” he said softly, his eyes moving down to your lips. “Let me walk you home?”

You smiled at both his response and his request, wondering if maybe you were wrong about what exactly you and Tommy were.

“I can’t go until those two leave,” you said quietly as you gestured to the corner.

As if realizing for the first time that the two of you weren’t alone, he turned to the other guests. “Oi! Time to go!”

The young men jumped from their seats and scattered out the door. You couldn’t hold in your surprise at the immediate obedience.

It’s good to be the king, you found yourself quoting Mel Brooks in your head at the action, not yet confident enough to say your quip out loud. The thought still made you smile though, and you were again surprised when Tommy offered you a smile in return. You knew how rare a Tommy smile was.

“Fine, but I still have to put the book away and sweep the floors. Harry mentioned something about putting in an ad for another barmaid — I’m not about to further piss him off and have him replace me.”

Tommy scoffed. “I’ve seen the receipts, you practically saved this business. He’d be a fool to replace you.”

Your pride swelled at the compliment as you lowered your head to hide your blush.

Luckily, it’d been a rather tame night, so your cleanup was minimum, allowing you and Tommy to leave soon after everything was put in order.

Tommy lit a cigarette as you locked the door, wrapping his coat around you tightly and cursing to yourself how right he’d been about it getting colder.

“Come to dinner tomorrow,” he said, breaking the silence on your walk. It didn’t sound like a question, but his gaze down toward you implied that he was waiting for a response.

“To your house?” You asked, curious if this was just a regular dinner or a date dinner.

He nodded. “Aye, Christmas Eve dinner with the family. Ada made me promise to ask.”

You deflated slightly at his follow-up. Was Ada’s insistence because Tommy didn’t actually want you there? God, listen to you — sounding like a pathetic teenager again overanalyzing everything your crush said.

“Okay,” you said instead.

“Good.”

He stopped and faced you when you got to your apartment. Gently, he lifted his hand and cupped your cheek, pulling your face upward until your lips met his. It was a soft kiss, but it still left you breathless as he pulled away.

“After dinner, when everyone’s distracted, we’ll talk, ya? About the dreams, about what Madam Despoina said, and about why when I was waking you up this afternoon you kept saying that you were cursed.”

>> next chapter << chapter masterlist

tag list: @cillixn @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @swordofawriter @sweetmilkshakeluminary @ttae-yong @topstory21 @cole-silas @moral-terpitude @optimisticsandwichgladiator @reallysparklychaos @enrapturedbythemoon @bat-shark-repellant @kpopslur @ilovestrngrthgs @musicsweetie21 @invisiblexcth @lovelydivs @whoisf4yryl0v3r @itscheybaby @laylasbunbunny @lordofthunderthr @luvstylesz @roseanimelover @lostgirl219 @berarenado @akemiixx01 @mulletmcghee @jasminxts @fanfics-that-hit-my-feels @piceous21 @xoprincessmel @arcanebabe @booktvmoviefangirl @cillmequick @nataliewalker93 @the-blueatlas @regatoni1 @goblinjnr @litteltourtius @xxbeckybeexx-blog @tanyaherondale @sometimes-i-sing @littlewhiterose @ja-4-leyvam @rubyxx16

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby reader insert #Peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #Thomas shelby #Thomas shelby x reader #Cillian Murphy #time after time #mine #fanficton

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spiders-striped-cheeks · 3 months

Text

Tf2 Merks Red Flags

I don’t Support this behavior

Head cannons under the cut

A03 link

Engineer

- Like Medic has no time for you at all and won’t make time for you

- Sometimes it feels like he cares about his work more than he does you

- Never really wants to spend time with you going on things like dates

Demo man

- he’s an alcoholic (obviously)

Heavy

- has trauma he can’t process

I can’t really think of anything

Miss Pauling

- has absolutely no time for you at all (she only has one day off of the year) but unlike the others she will try to make time

- Won’t tell you that plans fell through because she forgot to or didn’t want to hurt your feelings

- If you ever tell her about something like her not having enough time for intimacy or sexual things she will probably just tell you to see other people

- Probably has forgotten important dates for you before

Medic

- has no time for you and won’t make an effort to make time for you

- Will ignore you for his work

- He probably yells a lot at you when he’s angry

- if he yells loud enough and long enough he thinks he can win any disagreement

- If you ever bring up him using substances to work better he will be pissed at you for days and ignore you

- If you ever bring up his bad medical practices he is probably going to leave you <3

- he wouldn’t discipline Archimedes, or his other birds if they did something like claw or attack you if he was mad

Pyro (platonic)

- has set your things on fire after you told them not to

- The tea party’s are horrific and terrifying

- there codependent and clingy

Spy

- Spy will not open up about anything

- Self destructive

- he’s still trying to live his life like he’s 20

- Your probably not an appropriate age for him

- Thinks he can just buy you something expensive you want to fix an argument

- If your still mad at him after he gives you a gift he will be PISSED

- Will probably ignore you when he’s mad at you

- If you don’t like one of his bad habits like smoking inside, he will be pissed at you

- Of if you start to age at all he will probably leave for a new girl

- Expects you to look like a 10 all the time (it’s unrealistic)

Sniper

- he isn’t good at communication at all

- He can’t cope with anything at all

- Self destructive

- Won’t admit when he’s wrong even if he knows he’s wrong

- Thinks that if he argues long enough he will somehow become right in the argument

- Cannot support you in anything.

- Runs away from all of his problems in life

- If your his friend and you two get in a bad argument prepare to never see him again (he’s moving to a new city’s again)

- Does not know how to comfort propel and it’s painful

Scout

- Kinda misogynistic

- Self destructive when it comes to relationships mainly romantic

- Definitely has a problem with ghosting people when things get rough (not just with relationships.)

- Like sniper he’s more than okay with running away from his problems than confronting them

- has probably cheated before and treated it like not a big deal

- Thinks periods are gross and disgusting

- He cannot clean up after himself

- He’s a mamas boy

- It’s painfully obvious that he was the youngest

- He has daddy issues but not in the fun sexy way

- Like spy probably also expects you to look like a 10 constantly

#tf2 scout #Tf2 #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 medic #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #tf2 engineer #tf2 pyro #tf2 soldier #tf2 heavy #tf2 x reader #red flags #fanfic #fanficton

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creative-caramel-coffee · 10 months

Text

Fever and Fainting

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.6K

Summary: being sick sucked a little less with your girlfriends.

TW: vomiting, fainting (i guess?), like one swear word

A/N this is my first fic so it might kinda suck sorry

You had spent the last five days looking after your old neighbours kid who was sick, so it was no surprise to you when you woke up feeling like your head was packed with sand. The headache you could deal with but the pit of nausea that seemed to only get worse had you throwing back the sheets and sprinting to the ensuite in a heartbeat. As your dinner from the night before made a reappearance you thanked whatever gods were out there Nat and Wanda had training early this morning and weren’t there to watch. As much as you loved them you had never once been sick whilst together. Sure Wanda had the flu a couple months back and Nat had been great but this was different. This wasn’t the flu, and frankly you didn’t know what it was yet. You flushed the toilet and wiped your mouth, wanting nothing more than to climb back into bed. Fixing your hair in the mirror you saw how pale you looked. Ghostly. Changing into Nat’s fluffy long pants and Wandas sweatshirt, and throwing on some makeup you walked down to the kitchen. Pulling your hands into the sleeves as a chill ran up your spine. Clint was sat in the kitchen as Wanda made breakfast Nat hovering nearby and stealing bacon.

The sound of your girls laughing made it an easy decision. You weren’t going to tell them. They looked so happy and they had just come back from a week long mission in Moscow and needed some time to relax. You’d taken a swig of anti-nausea meds that had tasted like dirt so you thought everything would be fine. Clearing your throat, the girls looked up. It had been a bad idea. Now along with the headache your throat hurt too. Smiling you gave them a hug dodging their kisses to your cheek, you missed they looks of surprise. You never avoided kisses. Once you sat down at the table your body seemed to suddenly gain mass. Your limbs now felt like dead weights and it was somehow getting colder. Suppressing a shiver, Wanda came over with a plate of bacon and toast, knowing your dislike for eggs. But after only a couple bites you went back into the kitchen to “get more”, but really you simply put back what you didn’t eat and left.

Wanda frowned at the slightly larger pile of food in the kitchen, her and Nat knew you were acting odd, but lying to them and not eating wasn’t something you did.

Your legs screamed at you as you walked back to the lift. When your eyes landed on your bed your legs seemed to not take no for an answer. Eyes rolling back in your head you didn’t hear the door open.

Walking into their shared room to find you halfway to the floor wasn’t something Nat had ever planned on. “Y/N!” She yelled, reaching you a second too late and having to watch you head connect with the floor. Nat rushed over pulling your unconscious body into her arms.

“Friday, alert Wanda that i need her now.”

“Right away Ms. Roman-off”

A second later Wanda appeared in the doorway.

“Nat you needed m- OMG what happened.” Wanda raced to Nat’s side who now had you clutched tightly to her.

“Im not sure she just passed out, I only got here in time to see her hit her head when she fell” Wanda tapped you cheek lightly in an attempt to brig you around.

“Y/n/n. Wake up sweetheart. Come on”

A muffled sound pulled you out of wherever you were. But as it came clearer so did the pain in your head which had increased ten fold. Groaning you made out the voice to be Wandas.

“Baby, are you ok” Wanda laid a hand on your cheek, only to sharply pull it back a moment later.

“Shit Nat she’s burning up.”

A moment later another hand placed on your cheek. Leaning into the cold touch you moaned slightly at the feeling. Too tired and sick to be embarrassed. Suddenly your eye flew open and you frantically tried to extract yourself from the assassins arms. Wandas eye went wide at your loud thoughts, quickly passing you a bin as what little breakfast you had tumbled into it. Nat’s hands drew back your hair as Wanda shushed you and traced patterns on your back. Tears slipped down you cheeks, you hated being sick. When you were done your head lolled, the girls quick to pull you back before you ended up in your own sick.

“Sweetheart can you hear me?” Wanda asked, you groaned in response, both girls too concerned to laugh, they exchanged looks of worry.

“I’ll take that as a yes” Nat smiled softly.

“Can you stand up baby we need to get your fever down.”

“Based off the pink medicine in the bin I’d say you knew you were sick already, didn’t you” Nat poked.

Wanda glared at her for a moment mouthing “not now” to her. You turned your face into Nat’s shoulder as she picked you up. Wanda already in the next room drawing a tepid bath. You were too tired to process what was happening and too sick to care, as they peeled off your clothes. Damp with your sweat. You half stood half leaned on the counter shaking violently as the girls watched the bath water fill up the tub. When Nat lowered you into the water, which felt freezing against you skin, you almost cried. Clinging to her they shushed you. Together they washed your skin free of the sweat, before wrapping you in a soft fluffy towel and dressing you in Nat and Wanda’s spare Pjs.

Nat carried you back to the bed as Wanda went off in search of a bucket.

“M’ s’rry” you mumbled, feeling slightly more lucid after the bath.

“Oh sweetheart” Wanda said walking back in. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“You cant help being sick” Nat agreed. The two girls joining you on the bed. Nat ran her hands through your hair whilst Wanda traced shapes on your leg. Slowly you drifted off to sleep.

Only to be awoken a couple hours later in violent need of the bucket Wanda had set down by the bed. Crawling over the top of your girls legs, you hung off the edge of the bed as you threw up again into the bucket. Waking both girls up in the process. You found your hair being pulled back again. Nothing came up but bile, your stomach having rejected all food earlier. More tears fell as you finished, strong hands pulling you back up onto the bed. You sniffled snuggling into their embrace as they whispered sweet nothings in you ear.

“Oh sweet girl. Do you feel better now?” Wanda asked, sighing in relief at you little nod.

“Not going to go again?” Nat asked, sweeping you hair back from your eyes. You shook you head slightly as more tears fell. With the pad of her thumb Wanda brushed them away, as Nat peppered your cheek with kisses.

As you fell asleep again, the two girls shared a look. Normally you were never so quiet and needy, but then again they had never seen you sick before. Pulling you closer to them they spoke in hushed tones. Agreeing if you didn’t get better soon, especially after giving you meds they would take you to Bruce. It seemed you fever had broke but the vomiting hadn’t stopped. Each time they fed you food, soup or other light things it simply came back up around a half hour later. After almost two days Nat and Wanda carried you to Bruce’s lab. Your half asleep form clutched to Wanda’s chest, as you watched through half lidded eyes.

After running some tests Bruce confirmed a bad case of the stomach flu. Giving the girls some stronger meds and a sick bag for the trip back to your room. He gave you some meds and small nibble of food. As the meds were ones you couldn’t take on an empty stomach. You made it all the way to the lift before your eyes snapped open and you threw up on Wanda and yourself. Bursting into tears, Nat and Wanda shared a surprised look before reassuring you and telling you it was alright.

“Its ok sweet girl i know you didn’t mean to.” Wanda cooed brushed back your hair.

“Come on we’ll go back and you can both shower.” Nat smiled pulling Wanda and you down the hall.

After a shower the three of you were back in bed. The two girls verbally wrestling with you and begging you to have more to eat.

“Come on baby we’ll even let you choose the movie.” Wandas hands held the awful syrup you’d come to despise. Sighing deeply you opened your mouth allowing them to give you the medicine. After twenty minutes, the girls watched you sleep ready to give you a sick bag, not wanting a repeat of the lift situation. Chicago PD playing on the tv in the background. When a half hour passed and so did an hour they relaxed some. Keeping the sick bag by the bed if you needed it later. Snuggling up to you they held you close as you all fell asleep. That night you only woke up twice to be sick, both times your girls held you and comforted you until you were asleep again.

Over the next few days you slowly came good again. Back to your usual self, life in the compound returned to normal. Or as normal as it can be for a witch, an assassin and their girlfriend.

Master list

#wandanat #marvel #sicfic #fanficton #sickness #fever whump #the avengers #wanda maximoff #natasha romanov #natasha romaoff #wandanat x reader #sick reader #self insert #whump fic #fluff

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storiesforallfandoms · 11 months

Text

every inch ~ eminem

word count: 2262

request?: yes!

@sowhatariyana “hi can i send in a request for eminem x black curvy fem reader first time and immediately being infatuated with each other.”

description: in which he shows every inch of her body the love it deserves when they are intimate for the first time

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (oral f receiving, unprotected p in v; wrap it before you tap it kids), rpf (if you don’t like, move along)

masterlist (one, two, three)

They both knew where this night was going. It had been planned for at least a week, so the anticipation was strong by the time the night had finally arrived. After months of dating, (Y/N) and Marshall had planned a special night to finally have sex for the first time.

To most people, that may not seem like a big deal. They were two grown adults in a relationship, sex was basically an expectation for most in their situation. But their relationship was far from a normal one. Marshall had gone on tour shortly after they had gotten together, so the early stages of their relationship happened mainly through phone calls and text messages. On top of that, it had been a long time since either of them had been in a relationship, and neither of them engaged in meaningless hook ups. So, it was the first time in general that either of them had been intimate in a long time.

The night had been planned for when Marshall got home from tour. They planned to order in dinner to Marshall’s place, and see where the night took them - although they both knew where it was going. It was just a question of how long they could wait to get there.

(Y/N) was looking at herself in her bathroom mirror. While waiting for Marshall’s text to let her know he was home, she had been trying to pick out an outfit for the evening. She had bought a lingerie set to surprise Marshall with. It was lacy and firetruck red, showing off just enough of her features while also leaving something to be desired. Finding what to ear over the lingerie was the real issue. She felt like she had gone through her entire closet and nothing felt right still. She was currently wearing a pair of ripped skinny jeans and an off the shoulder long sleeve crop top, with the straps of the red bra showing as a little tease for what was to come. it didn’t feel right, but it was the best (and the last) of the outfits she owned, so she went with it.

When her phone finally dinged, she basically ran to her car. It was hard to restrain herself and drive the speed limit to his house. her body was tingling with anticipation. She had no idea how they were going to restrain themselves until after dinner.

She pulled up to his house, her heart already pounding hard against her chest. She walked up to his front door. She raised her fist to knock, but before she did, the door opened. Marshall was stood there, having heard her pull up and rushed to the door in the same level of anticipation that (Y/N) had been feeling. They looked at one another for a long time, not saying a word. Marshall let his eyes trail over her, taking in every inch, every delicious curve of her body. He had missed seeing her so much, and the thought of being able to see that body naked soon made his impatience grow.

“Hi,” (Y/N) finally said, breaking their silence.

“Hi,” Marshall responded before grabbing her and kissing her. It took (Y/N) by surprise, but she happily kissed him back. It was a moment they had both been longing for for months, and it was definitely living up to the desire. Marshall took (Y/N) into his arms and growled against her lips, “Fuck the dinner.”

(Y/N) was so dazed that she didn’t understand what he meant at first. It wasn’t until he was pulling her into his house and whisking her towards his bedroom that she finally understood. The minute they crossed the threshold, his lips were on hers again, devouring her in a passionate kiss. Her hands grabbed at the t-shirt he was wearing, wringing it through her fists and tugging desperately. He showed mercy and stripped himself of his shirt. His skin was already hot to the touch as she pressed her hands against his bare chest. His hands wrapped around her back and slipped under her shirt. She lifted her arms so he could take her shirt off.

His eyes raked over her breasts, pushed up a it by the bra, giving her ample cleavage. She smirked. She knew this lingerie would get him.

He reached to take off her bra, but she stopped him. “I have a set on .You’re not taking off one until you see both.”

Marshall groaned. “You’re killing me.”

(Y/N) kissed him. “Have patience.”

“I was patient for over six months. I need you now.”

They rid themselves from the rest of their clothes besides their underwear. (Y/N) got onto Marshall’s bed and laid back, trying to give him a seductive look. Now that she was finally there, almost completely bare and seconds away from what she had been anticipating for so long, she was starting to feel nervous. Not in the fact that Marshall was seeing her naked; (Y/N) was extremely confident in her curvy body. It wasn’t exactly cold feet, either. She definitely was not about to back out of this. There was just a general nervousness that was starting to wash over her at the fact that they were really about to do this, after so many months of build up.

Marshall climbed onto the bed to hover over her. He leaned down to kiss her again, this time a little less rough than earlier. His lips only stayed on hers for a brief moment before he moved down to kiss her neck. She let out a breathy moan as he sucked on the soft skin at the nape of her neck. He nipped at the same spot, causing her to yelp in surprise, before continuing his journey downwards. He slipped his hand under her back to unclasp the bra and throw it onto the floor with the rest of their clothes. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull as her breasts bounced free.

She giggled. “Like what you see?”

“Is that even a question?” he responded. “Jesus, baby, you’re absolutely gorgeous. I have no idea how I managed to survive the last few months without being able to see this?”

“You flatter me.”

Marshall’s eyes watched her face as he lowered his lips to her chest. He took one nipple into his mouth, making her gasp. Her gasp melted into a moan as his tongue circled the hardening bud, his hand reaching up to play with the other breast. Once he had finished with one, he lowered his lips onto the other until it was just as hard and standing at attention. Then he continued down, kissing between her breasts and down her stomach. A pool was forming in her panties as he got closer and closer to where she wanted him most.

He pulled her panties down at an agonizingly slow rate. He threw them off to the side as well and looked down at her. His eyes looked over her entire naked body, from her face all the way down to her parted legs.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathed.

She restrained herself from covering her body, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.

When he put his mouth against her clit, she nearly cried in pleasure. His tongue lapped over the sensitive bundle of nerves, every touch sending a wave of pleasure through her. She threw her head back and moaned into the room; music to Marshall’s ears. He held her thighs open, his fingers leaving indents on the soft skin. (Y/N) gripped the sheets beneath her as her back arched off of the bed. His beard left a burning sensation along the inside of her thighs that just heightened the pleasure she was feeling. It wasn’t long before she felt herself nearing the edge.

“Fuck,” she breathed. “Fuck, Marshall, I’m - I’m close.”

“Cum in my mouth, baby.”

His dirty words of encouragement were enough to send her over the edge. She screamed out his name into the room as his tongue continued to lick her pussy, lapping up her juices. Her body trembled in pleasure as she rode out her orgasm. Once the pleasure turned to overstimulation, she reached down to push Marshall’s head away. When he looked up at her, she could see his mouth and beard glistening with her slick, and it was enough to turn her on again.

“I can’t fucking wait any longer,” Marshall said. He quickly took off his boxers and discarded them with everything else on the floor. He leaned down to kiss (Y/N), allowing her to taste herself on his lips and tongue. She desperately grinded her hips against him and he moaned into her mouth. He lined himself up with her entrance. “Are you ready?”

“I swear to God if you don’t fuck me soon I will leave,” (Y/N) responded.

Marshall chuckled at her eagerness and kissed her again. While his lips were attached to hers, he pushed himself into her. She gasped into the kiss as she took in every inch of him at a painfully slow pace. Once he was buried completely inside of her, they both moaned. The feeling of her stretching around him burned in both pleasure and pain, but it didn’t take long for her to get used to his size within her.

“Please move,” she begged. “Please.”

He started with slow thrusts at first, pulling almost all the way out before filling her again. With every inwards thrust, (Y/N)’s legs involuntarily shook. His dick reached places within her that she didn’t think was even possible, always hitting that one sweet spot inside of her with every thrust. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his shoulders, hanging on to him as if she thought he was going to disappear at any moment. Her head was so foggy with lust that she could barely even form a coherent thought. All she could focus on was the pleasure she was feeling, and the only sounds she could make were moans.

Marshall was kissing her neck again, whispering praises into her ear as his thrusts started to speed up. His pelvis was rubbing against her clit, forming the same pressure in the pit of her stomach that she had felt moments ago. There was no way she was going to last long like this, and she found herself able to string together one sentence to tell him, “I - I’m gonna...I’m gonna cum a-again.”

“Cum on this dick, baby,” he breathed into her ear. “I won’t be too far behind you.”

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she felt a second, more intense orgasm wash over her. She couldn’t even call out his name this time, only able to moan loudly as her walls constricted around him. As he promised, Marshall’s orgasm wasn’t too far behind. He grunted as (Y/N) felt him twitch inside of her, followed by the warm feeling of him coating her walls. She buried her head into his shoulder, muffling her moans and whimpers as he slowly began to go limp on top of her.

They stayed tangled together like that for some time, both just panting to catch their breaths. (Y/N) hadn’t realized her eyes had been closed during her climax, but when she opened them she still could barley see anything besides stars. It took her a while to come back down to Earth, and when she did, she realized how amazing she felt. It was easily the best sex she had ever had in her life. The anticipation likely contributed to how good it was, but she knew it was mainly the fact that Marshall knew how to make her feel that good.

When he finally pulled out of her, she felt empty. She nearly whimpered at the loss of contact, but managed to hold it back. Marshall left the room for a few moments, coming back with a cloth to clean her up with. Once they were both cleaned, Marshall got back into bed with her and took her into his arms.

“I feel like a teenager,” (Y/N) admitted after a few moments. “All giddy and excited about having sex for the first time. As if I’m not a grown ass woman.”

Marshall chuckled. “We both made a pretty big deal about this day.”

“We did. And it certainly lived up to the hype we were giving it.”

Marshall kissed her forehead and she settled into his chest. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed since she got there, but she realized it was enough time for her to grow incredibly hungry. Before, despite the fact that she knew Marshall had ordered food for them, she wasn’t overly hungry. There had only been one thing on her mind when she arrived at his house, and it certainly was not about eating. But now that the main moment had finally come and passed, her stomach was starting to rumble with anticipation of something else.

Marshall chuckled as her stomach made a loud rumbling noise. “The food might be a little cold now, but we can heat it up if you’re hungry.”

“I’m starving,” she said. “I hadn’t even considered eating today. I’ll eat whatever it is you have ice cold at this rate.”

“Well, you definitely don’t have to do that.” He kissed her again and pulled himself up from the bed. “Come on, let’s go get some food.”

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