#firefly lane plot bunny

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Some Things You Just Can't Refuse

Title: Some Things You Just Can't Refuse

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Dom!Clark Kent x Sub!Reader

Word Count: 4.7K+

Summary: A collection of first times with Clark Kent, and one last time.

Warnings: dacryphilia, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up babes), creampie, spit kink (for like two seconds), Reader being a brat

A/N: This has been a plot bunny that sat in my Google Docs while all my other works got attention. Did I really just write a 5+1? Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist 

Clark Kent was a simple man, for the most part. He had preferences, sure. But he knew what he liked, and went for those things more often than not. One of his preferences was a certain kind of woman. 

And you were that kind of woman. His Sunflower.

The perfect combination of submissive and strong-willed. What others may call bratty, Clark would call “a little feisty” and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

And that is where Clark was anything but simple. He was your Dominant, you were his submissive. He loved you, he provided for you, and he kept you safe. He kissed the ground you walked on, he broke you, and he put you back together.

The first time you met Clark Kent was in the break room of the Daily Planet. 

You were an intern for the summer, just working to get some credits toward your journalism degree. You weren’t all that interested in going to warzones and reporting on drug lords and shit. You wanted to tell stories about starving artists and activism. You wanted to surprise people with your ability to capture the essence of someone’s emotion and relate it to the reader’s own experiences.

While doing your writing at work, while you were supposed to be doing whatever Lois Lane threw at you this morning, you decided to take a break to recharge. Since energy drinks gave you the jitters, you opted for a warm-ish mug of hours-old coffee.

As you reached up to the cabinet to get a mug, you watched as a hand appears above you to grab the handles of two mugs. You turned, following the hand, to see who reached over you. Eyes blue like the Atlantic Ocean behind a pair of plain black rectangular frames looked back at you. You can’t help but smile at him as he beamed, bright enough to illuminate your entire day.

And your writer’s brain was getting way ahead of itself already. Who the hell was this mountain of a man? I wonder what his lips taste like. Should that tie go with that shirt? Fuck, did he just ask me something?

“I’m sorry, what?” You shook yourself out of your thoughts.

“I asked if you wanted the black or the flower mug. I was gonna offer the flower. But I’d rather not assume you didn’t wanna just take the plain one. So, I’m gonna stop talking and let you answer.” 

Fuck, he’s cute when he rambles.

“Sunflowers are my favorite.” He offered the mug and your fingers touch and you’re glad that you are the only two in the break room.

“Clark,” he says, as he poured himself some coffee, “Clark Kent.”

You gave your name and he put out a hand to shake yours. With your hand in his, you notice how it engulfed your own. You thought to yourself about that hand around your throat. Just lightly squeezing the sides of your neck, as a warning.

“Nice to meet you. I hope Lois has been easy on you. She can be a little…much.” He said it in a way that lead you to believe he’s been on the demanding end of Lois more than once.

“Eh, she’s alright. I mean, Ms. Lane is just fine.” You tried to cover your disdain for Lois. In reality, you saw her as a ‘Pick-Me’, but you tried to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Yeah, sure she is. I dated her, so I know her pretty well. Not that I should be saying anything. But, don’t let her try and get in your head. She’ll use whatever she can to get a scoop, whether in the field or the workplace. She’s a great journalist, but-” You cut him off, not wanting to take part in putting down another woman.

“I think I get the hint. Watch my back around her.” You assure him you understood as you poured your coffee and put in some cream and sugar.

“Yeah, sorry. I shouldn’t talk about her behind her back. That was rude of me. My mother would be disappointed in me for that.” He looked into his mug, and you saw that he was not proud of himself for putting down his ex.

“It’s all good, Clark. I can tell you didn’t mean anything by it. Emotions are tricky, ya know?” You don’t know why you wanted to give him an ‘out’, but you did.

“That, they are. I better get back. See ya around,” He gave a cute little wave and exited the room.

The first time Clark Kent called you Sunflower happened about a month after your first meeting. 

The two of you ended up together on a test run for Perry to see how you go about working with other reporters. He probably just wanted to see if I could share a byline.

You could tell that Lois saw a tenacity in you that reminded her of her younger self. While that was great, you wanted to be seen for your ability to get people to talk to you without making them feel like they were in an interview. Just a conversation between people.

When you asked Clark to work on the assignment with you, he jumped at the opportunity. In truth, he wanted the chance to see you at work. He’d listen to Lois talk about how you just saw things differently. Almost like she was jealous, but she would never admit to that.

“So I was thinking we could go to Gotham. Before you say anything, I know it’s dangerous there but we’ll be going during the day. And I finally got the go-ahead from Wayne Enterprises to shadow one of their board members. A Day in the Life kind of piece. What do you think?” You rambled out, arms crossed as you leaned against Clark’s desk.

“I think I can get you an exclusive with Bruce Wayne if you wanted.” He stated nonchalantly.

“I would owe you big time. Wait, how the hell do you know Wayne? What, were you boy scouts together or something?”

“We just end up at a lot of the same places.” Clark offers no other explanation.

“Right,” you nodded at him, not letting it go, “So, I run point on this and you back me up?”

“Sounds perfect. You’ll do great, just know he will try and flirt with you so don’t make it easy for him, Sunflower.” The nickname caused heat to rise to your face, remembering that first time you met him.

“Sure, like the most eligible bachelor in Gotham who can buy whatever he wanted would look at me twice?” You weren’t being down on yourself too much, more like you were being realistic. The man had dated supermodels and heiresses, not chubby junior reporters.

“Without sounding unprofessional, trust me when I say Bruce will look at you more than twice. You say the word and I’ll set him straight.” Was that flirtatious? No way.

“Um, if you say so, Clark,” you tried to laugh it off and walk away but Clark caught your wrist, your eyes locked with his and you felt…something. 

“I do say so, Sunflower,” he lowered his hand from around your wrist, “Just prepare to shut him down more than once. He’s, uh, persistent.”

“You trying to save me for yourself, huh?” You couldn’t help yourself. If he denies it, you could say you were joking. If he confirms it, then…

He simply smiled and tilted his head, neither confirming nor denying. 

During your interview with Bruce Wayne, you were surprised that he indeed did flirt with you as Clark said he would. You managed to steer the conversation back to Wanye Enterprises each time he would stray to learn more about you. You would give him a detail here and a tidbit there, but you kept it professional. Clark was there to take notes, letting you take the lead. He was impressed by you. You kept Bruce flirting with you to get him to spill details about new things he was working on for Gotham.

The first time you kissed Clark Kent was three months into your internship. 

Lois had taken a shine to you, loving what few pieces you were able to get past the intern pool and into an issue. You figured it would be in your best interest to go to her with any journalistic questions you had. You may not like her very much, but she was still a Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist and you would be an idiot not to take a few pointers from her.

There was one thing you didn’t talk to her about, and that was the massive crush you had on her ex. It just seemed too messy, and honestly, you didn’t need her permission to do anything. 

That’s why you accepted Clark’s invitation to make you dinner. Frankly, you weren't surprised he asked you. You had been flirting with each other, exchanging glances and smiles across the office. Spending hours a night talking on the phone and texting back and forth naturally lead you here.

Armed with a bottle of wine and all the courage you could muster, you make it to Clark’s apartment just as he is finishing dinner. He answers the door in jeans and a grey long-sleeved henley, looking so comfortable and so different without a tie on. He thanked you for the wine, took your wrist to pull you behind him, and shut the door with a socked foot.

Pouring you both a glass, he congratulated you for completing half of your internship. It completely slipped your mind that you had reached this milestone, but he remembered. And that was saying a lot. You clinked your glasses together and took a sip of the pinot noir. 

“This is going to go great with dinner. Thank you again for picking up some. I can’t believe I forgot to,” Clark bantered, setting his wine glass down to check on the pork tenderloin and roasted potatoes.

“You were too busy trying to impress me,” You insisted, smiling when he gives you a stern look.

“Watch it, Sunflower,” is all you hear and you shifted from one foot to the other to hide your search for friction. You barely had two sips of wine in your system before this man had you feeling drunk.

“Time to let the pork rest while the potatoes finish up. Should be done in a bit,” Clark picked up his wine glass, settling his other hand on your lower back to guide you to the island counter. He didn’t expect it when a shiver ran up your spine and caused you to giggle, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

You sat and chatted during dinner like you’ve known each other for ages and it just felt very comfortable. He told you about his mom, growing up in Smallville, and how he came to work at the Daily Planet. You spoke about your schooling and how you’d one day like to write for the Planet and publish a book of short stories. He was stuck on your every word and it made you feel important to have his undivided attention.

After dinner, you retired to the living room to watch some tv. It was more just on as background noise as you conversed with each other. When you both reached for the wine bottle at the same, you both laugh and then look at each other. And it was all you could do not to melt into a puddle as those blue eyes stare longingly at you.

Clark reached up and took off his glasses before tossing them on the coffee table. Fuck. But, he does nothing more. For what seems like minutes, you sat in silence just staring into each other’s eyes until you speak up. 

“Clark, please?” You whined, growing more frustrated with every second.

“Use your words. Tell me what you need, Sunflower.” The way he said it had you shifting in your seat.

“I need you to kiss me, please?” You pleaded, the little crack in your voice not missed by Clark.

He cupped your face with one large paw, his touch so soft that you leaned into it to feel his warmth. His thumb moved over to wipe across your lips, followed swiftly by his lips.

Your lips met and you felt the warmth radiating from him. You could taste the sweetness of the wine on his tongue as he begged for entry. You let him in, moaning into his mouth. Clark grunted in return and pulled away to rest your foreheads together.

“I have wanted that for far too long, Sunflower,” Clark groaned, licking his lips.

“Me too,” you whisper, scooting closer to Clark to lace your fingers together, “Can we do it again?”

Instead of answering you, he pulled you into his lap and attacked your mouth with fervor.

The first time you tell Clark Kent you love him is exactly two months after your first kiss.

It was completely by accident, but no less true. 

Clark invited you over for dinner and a movie. The two of you were in the middle of watching 10 Things I Hate About You. Patrick was dancing on the bleachers and singing to Kat. The most romantic scene in the movie apart from the poetry scene.

“Ya know, if we went to high school together and you sang ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off You’ to me in front of the whole school, I would have melted,” you say, stuffing popcorn into your face, “But then, I already love you, so you wouldn’t have to do the whole singing thing.”

Clark’s head whipped around so fast that you can feel the wind coming off of him. “What did you just say, Sunflower?”

You look to Clark and you realized what you had said at the same moment and your eyes went wide. “I think I just confessed love during a ‘90s romcom.”

“Yeah, I think you did,” Clark looked at you with that look in his eyes, “Good thing I love you, too.” He says nonchalantly, trying to not freak you out, and went back to watching the movie.

“Clark, I love you.” You wanted to feel the words on your tongue again.

“I love you too, Sunflower.” Hearing the words come from him was like a cozy embrace that coated the night in warmth.

The first time you had sex with Clark Kent was at the end of your internship.

Clark wanted to wait- 

No, he didn’t want to wait, but he chose to wait until your internship was over and you were offered an actual job at the Daily Planet to not seem like he was cruising for tail in the intern pool. 

Little did you know, but Clark had it all planned out. Candlelit dinner, romantic music, wine, and chocolates. The whole nine yards. But you didn’t get to experience that version of lovemaking. 

At the same time Clark was lighting candles, he heard your heartbeat spike across town. He sped away to your location, without putting on his suit. He flew above the city before he found you being held up at gunpoint in an alleyway and his blood boiled. He watched you comply with your attacker and hand over your purse before flying down behind the man quietly. The man had no idea what hit him when Clark flicked his temple and the assailant falls over unconscious.

He didn’t even think to keep his identity secret anymore. He steps over the man to get to you and check you over for injuries, both external and internal. When he sees nothing, he questions you, “Are you alright, Sunflower?”

You look almost through him because there he is in a sweater and dark-wash jeans, glasses slightly askew. You step back an inch as he reaches out to you. He can see it in your eyes that you are piecing together little moments. 

How he got across town in what seemed like seconds. How he never got sick. How it felt like he was always hiding something. This is what he was hiding from you. For your safety? For his?

“There were so many times I wanted to tell you I was Superman, I just didn’t know how. Do you forgive me, Sunflower?” Clark’s pleading ultramarine eyes burned into yours. 

“I mean, I guess this is as good a time as any to tell me. I have so many questions. Of which, you will answer all of them, Clark. But, all I need to know right now is how the hell you found me?” Your breathing was starting to speed up again and you tried to calm down but given the circumstances, you were acting pretty normal.

“I kind of, know your heartbeat. I can hear it at all times. Wherever you are, I can hear you,” Clark makes an odd face and then forces out an embarrassed laugh, “Now that I say that out loud, it sounds weird.”

“Yeah, it’s a little weird. But it’s also super romantic, too,” you reach to Clark and pull him to you, “What’s my heart sound like now?”

“Sounds like you’re excited,” he let his hand drag down your body, “Smells like it too. Now, why would that be?”

“I mean, I did just find out my boyfriend is a superhero. That’s sorta hot. Sorta, I mean, he hasn’t taken me flying yet.”

“Brat! How hard is it to ask for what you want?” He picked up your purse from the unconscious attacker and handed it to you. When it is secured around your shoulder, Clark picked you up and you wrap your legs around his hips. “Hold on, Sunflower.” He took off so fast that the world blurred around you.

As he got closer to his apartment, he slowed down and flew a bit higher near the clouds. He rolled over onto his back so that you are straddling him. His hands found each other behind his head as he floated above Metropolis, all attention directed at you. Your eyes wandered around the city as you adjusted your seating which stirred his arousal.

Clark tried to adjust himself under you without you noticing but instead, you took the opportunity to grind your clothed sexes together. The groan that escaped Clark’s mouth is enough to spur you on to continue your ministrations. His eyes are already rolling back in his head and you feel quite proud of yourself. You reached under Clark’s sweater and ran your fingers through his chest hair as you continue to work your hips over him.

“Clark?”

“Yes, Sunflower?” He opened his eyes, pupils were blown wide with lust, breathing becoming unstable.

“Take me to your place so we can get more comfortable?” You flirted with him, wrapping your arms around his neck and shimmying up his body.

“Yes, Ma’am.” He grabbed under your thighs to have you wrap your legs around him once more and began to descend to the balcony of his apartment. He let you inside first but is quickly behind you following you into his bedroom as you start to shed your layers.

You spun around and gave Clark a show of your skin becoming visible in the moonlight. When you are fully undressed, you knelt in front of him with your head down and your hands on your thighs. 

He walked over to you and kissed the top of your head. He listened for your heartbeat, and it was steady, if not a little heightened. You were awaiting instruction, as far as he could tell.

“Sunflower, I want you to pick a safe word.” He stood behind you and undressed down to his underwear.

“Unicorn is my safe word.”

“Good girl,” Clark caressed your shoulders and squeezed them, “Are you okay with calling me Sir?”

“Yes, Sir.” Your heart rate evened out, Clark noticed. You’re happy. He beamed down at you.

“Good girl, now turn around and take out Sir’s dick.” 

You turned around and reach up to Clark’s boxer briefs, cupping him over the fabric before hooking your fingers into the waistband and pulling the underwear down and off. His length sprung up to bounce in front of your face and you lick your lips in anticipation but don’t go any further without direction.

“Such a good girl, Sunflower,” he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up to meet his eyes, “Come lay down so Sir can taste you. I can already smell how wet you are.”

You took his hands as he helped you up. Clark pulled you close to his body, your back against his chest. He attacked your neck, nipping and sucking marks that would show in the morning. His length on your hip has you testing your limits. 

As if reading your mind, Clark reached down and cupped your netherlips. You instinctively clamped your thighs around his hand and he used a foot to kick your legs apart. With one hand exploring your cunt, the other slides around your throat as a warning.

“Don’t ever block me from my pussy, Sunflower. This belongs to Sir now, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir, it belongs to you.” You were sure Clark could feel you clench around nothing and you didn’t care. You wanted him to know he was doing everything right.

“Good girl,” He dipped a finger into your wetness and pulled it back out to wipe across your bottom lip, “We’re both gonna taste your sweet honey.” He used the hand around your throat to turn you around so he could claim your lips.

You tasted yourself as his tongue invaded you, whimpering into his mouth. His answering groans had you trembling. He walked you backward until your legs hit the edge and he pushed you down. Leaning over, he knelt and pushed your thighs back as far as they would go, marveling at your glistening slit.

With the flat of his tongue, he licked from your entrance to your neglected nub, pausing to suck on it lightly. He ate with the hunger of a man starved. He steeled his tongue, probing your core and tasting you from within. He made out with your pussy, pulling back to spit on it which drew moans from you and had you squeezing your breasts in response.

Clark was good at this, not that you were surprised because of how good of a kisser he was, but fuck! The way he fingered your pussy, making sure to curve his fingers to hit that sensitive bundle of nerves inside was heavenly. 

When he sped up his fingers and pushed down on your lower stomach, you gasped and realized he understood the assignment. He was rewarded with you squirting over his hands and chest.

“Such a good girl for me, Sunflower,” he said, before sucking your juices off of his fingers and moving your limp body up the bed, “Now, you’re going to be an extra good girl and take Sir’s dick.”

That was all the warning you received before Clark was pushing in, stretching you wide over his thick hardness. With every inch, he would pull out and press in an inch more than the last thrust. He made sure to stretch you slowly, keeping your tightness while allowing you to get used to his girth. 

“That’s right, Sunflower, open those sweet petals for Sir,” Clark soothes your whines as he fucks into you, “I promise I’ll make it all better when you let me all…the way…in.” He punctuated his words with jolts from his hips. 

When he is finally seated inside you, he pauses. The sudden stop has you reaching for Clark and moving your hips to gain friction.

“Look at you trying to fuck yourself on my cock,” he leaned over you and watched as tears flow from your eyes, “These tears are gorgeous, but use your words. Tell me what you want.”

“Sir, please,” you whined, looking into his eyes, “Need you to fuck me, please.” 

The smile on Clark’s face is brilliant, he’s got you right where he wants you. He kissed your face, stopping to wipe away your tears with his tongue. Pulling back, he secured your legs around his hips before he leaned down to wrap one hand around both of your wrists, holding them above your head.

When Clark fucked you, he paid attention to every aspect of your body. He looked into your eyes. He kissed and nipped at your neck. He pinched and teased your nipples. He rubbed your clit while he pounded inside you. 

Clark just did it better than any of your partners before. Maybe because you allowed yourself to be vulnerable around him? Or maybe because he was just…better. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that you were with him and he was inside you and you were all his.

You lost track of how many times you came, but Clark remembers every time. He committed them to memory, seeing you arch your back and feeling your walls flutter around him. He could tell by the sheen of sweat on your body and the way your body is vibrating that you were beyond spent. Possibly even a bit overstimulated. Perfect.

“You ready for my cum, Sunflower?” He licked his thumb and pressed on your clit as you keen, “Do you think you can hold on for me for just a bit longer?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you moan as he slid his hands to your hips.

“There’s my good girl,” he groaned and began his assault on your pussy. At this angle, he can stimulate both your hooded center and your G-spot. A punishing pace that set you ablaze. While you held onto his biceps, you looked into his eyes. Where there used to be blue irises, only dark pupils remained. His curly hair was a sweaty mess on his forehead. He was barely a man now, more like an animal rutting into you.

Before long, his hips stutter in their onslaught. Breathing erratically, he squeezed your hips so hard you knew there would be bruises tomorrow. He moved to kiss your neck and latched onto your shoulder with his teeth as you feel every twitch of him releasing inside you. You know there will be bite marks in your shoulder for days but you don’t care.

Clark’s teeth left you, followed closely by his tongue soothing your almost-broken skin. Sometimes, he didn’t know his strength. And it was a close one this time. He was still inside you semi-hard before he decided to pull out slowly causing you to whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness.

He moved from the bed for a moment. You closed your eyes for a millisecond before you feel warm wetness between your legs.

“Just cleaning you up, Sunflower,” He wipes your delicate folds softly and throws the towel in the clothes hamper before crawling in bed beside you, “You go right to sleep, you deserve it.”

The last time you refer to yourself as Clark’s girlfriend is a year and a half into your relationship.

Clark proposes to you over dinner in the house you bought together. He bought the ring after you talked about marriage just two weeks ago. Well, technically, Bruce helped him buy the ring. As in, Bruce bought the jewelers store and had them design the perfect ring for you. 

A smoky quartz center with marquise and pear-shaped citrine petals around it. You had mentioned more than once that you didn’t want a diamond engagement ring, you wanted something that matched your style.

Clark presented the ring to you on one knee, ever the traditionalist. You said yes, of course.

This man was your life, your hope, and your future. You looked forward to every minute of every hour of every day with him. 

He is your light in the darkness, and you are his Sunflower.

A/N: Yes, the title is from "Sunflower" by Post Malone/Swae Lee. Yes, the song was for a Spider-Man movie. So, what? It's a good song.

**Tag List**

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Let me know if you wanna be added and for what plz  😁 Also if you want to be removed from tags, lemme know!

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill characters #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fic #clark kent #clark kent x female reader #clark kent x plussize reader #clark kent x reader #clark kent fic #clark kent fanfiction #clark kent fanfic #man of steel #batman v superman #batman v supeman: dawn of justice #justice league #some things you just cant refuse #Clark Kent #clark kent x black reader #clark kent x black!reader #kal el #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic

[erraticrandomficwriter]

Plot Bunnies Challenge - F

Fandom: Firefly Lane

FC: Kate Bosworth

OC Name: Delilah Ryan (Hart)

Possible Fic Name: Delilah's Hart

Summary: Delilah Hart wasn't a planned pregnancy. In fact, her mother didn't even realize she was pregnant until it was too late to do anything about it. Suffice to say Delilah didn't fit in with Tully Hart's plans for the future and yet when Tully gave birth to her she couldn't give her up like she planned at least not like she planned exactly...

After much pleading with Kate and Johnny - who were married with no children of their own yet - Tully convinced them to adopt Delilah. Tully wanted desperately to be a part of Delilah's life, but she couldn't be her mother. Tully was quite content to let Kate take on the 'mother mantle', at least that's what she convinced herself of.

Delilah grew up never knowing that she was adopted. Kate and Johnny were her parents, Marah was her younger sister, and Tully was her mom's best friend which made her the cool aunt. The truth had been kept from her all her life only to be revealed when an expose about Tully was published by none other than Kate's boss...

#plot bunny challenge #firefly lane plot bunny #delilah ryan hart

[detroitbydark]

Luck Be A Lady (H.O.)

Title: Luck Be A Lady

Summary: A complex history comes to a head for a mob doctor and the bosses number one enforcer.

Pairing: Mob!Haz/OC

Warnings: Aftermath of gun violence, mentions of injury/blood, simple medical procedures, cursing, Smut (very soft)

Word Count: 10,500

A/N: So this started as a plot bunny and it kind of got out of control. I thought about separating it into a few parts but I just couldn't find good points to do it. I hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I want to thank @aossi​  for her constant support and help when I got stuck and @tomsrebeleyebrow​ for creating a great mood board as well as being an excellent cheerleader.

“I need Doc, Tom…. Fuck” Harrison grits out the words as Harry presses down hard on the wound in his side, blood is already soaking through his shirt, staining the blue oxford crimson. The coppery tang of blood permeates the towncar. Tom looks back in the mirror and sees the pallor his top enforcers face has taken on, the way the tendons in his neck stick out starkly as he bites back the pain. He makes the call.

Doc never meant to get involved with the Holland family but she had student loans to pay off and a daughter to take care of. And no one said ‘no’ to Dom Holland.  She tried to keep work and her personal life separate but when she fell in love with Michael, one of Dom’s top men, she knew it would be impossible. The world wind romance and marriage that ensued cemented the fact the little Rosie was going to run in the same circles as the Holland Boys and the lone Osterfield son. 

It was with apprehension that Doc found herself bringing her only child to The Holland compound to be introduced to the rest of the family. The boys ranged from 5 to 10 and were a rambunctious bunch, Doc had stitched each of them up on more than one occasion. She’d just recently set little Harry’s broken arm. They were good boys though and looked after one another. It was her hope they’d look after her daughter as if she were one of their own too. 

“Rosie” she watches as her little girl, barely eight, stares at the boys rough housing in the garden. Trepidation is clear on her cherubic features. Her little round face was beginning to lean out and she was rapidly looking less like a little girl and more like a little lady. It all felt like it was moving to fast for her mother but children didn’t keep and she had to start preparing her for the path she’d set them on sooner as opposed to later.  Doe eyed Rosie watches with caution as the other kids wrestled and rolled around in the grass. 

“Why don’t you go play with the other children.”

“Those aren’t children. Those are boys.” 

Michael lays a hand on Doc’s arm as he  chuckles at his new daughter. She already had him wrapped around her little finger. His adoration for the precocious little girl was evident to anyone who saw them.

“Come on short stack.” He encourages, ruffling her dark braids, “Go play while the grown-ups talk.” 

Doc frowns as she watches her new husband slip their daughter a candy bar. Rosie smiles brightly and takes off out the door.

“Did you just bribe her with chocolate”

“Just greasing the wheels a bit. Never hurt anyone, Doc”

“Who are you?” A boy a head shorter than her asks as she skips up. His curly hair is an unruly mop on top of his head and his face is speckled with a thin dappling of freckles.

“That’s Doc’s Kid” another asserts as Rosie turns from one boy to the other. She stands straight and proud, like Michael taught her. The one talking vaguely resembles the first.

“My name is Rosie.” She says, popping a hand on her hip and glaring at the boy in front of her. “My Mum says it isn’t nice to interrupt a conversation.” The boy doesn’t acknowledge she’s said anything.

“I’m Tom.” He says after a minute of assessment, “those are my brothers” he says pointing to the curly boy and another who looks loads like him. “Harry and Sam, the little ones Paddy”

Looking around she spots a taller boy, blonde smiling behind Tom, “what about that one.” 

“I’m Harrison.” He introduces stepping forward. Tom grunts crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, well, we were getting ready to play some ball and we’ve already got teams made up so…”

Rosie feels her shoulders droop but she keeps her chin up. She knew what he was getting at. Turning back toward the house she sighs when she sees her Mum and Michael watching her from where they stood with the other adults. A hand on her shoulder startles her. 

“You can be on my team if ya want.” Harrison has his head dipped down to look in her eyes, gives her a reassuring smile. Rosie tries not to look too eager as she nods.

“I’ve got some chocolate. I could share with you if you want.” He cocks his head, his smile gets wider.

“My lucky day, I guess”

----

“Lil Doc.” 

Rosie’s eyes are barely open but the sound of Tom Holland’s commanding voice has her already moving from bed. She yelps as she stubs her toe on the nightstand. It throbs angrily.

“Fuck...Holland? It’s 2am”

“Yeah, and you’ve got work to do. One of our boys got popped. I’m sending Sam over to get you. He’ll be at your place in five. Be ready.”

Fuck. The line goes dead. She wanted to curse again. It’d been a while since she’d messed with gunshot wounds, at the very least since the first rotation through the emergency room. When Dom and Tom had come to her with the same offer they’d given her mother when she’d first fallen in with the Holland family she hadn’t hesitated to jump at the opportunity. Tuition covered in return for intermittent providing of services?  Yeah, there were worse things in the world.

Growing up under the umbrella of a well connected mob family left one accustomed to a certain lifestyle. Rosie wasn’t above admitting she liked some of the finer things life had to offer. She hadn’t wanted to be a starving med student, certainly hadn’t wanted to be a doctor with $200,000 of student loans hanging over her head. Working for the Hollands gave her a certain amount of freedom. She provided care at a local women's clinic four days a week. It was rewarding and she could focus on her patients and not the paltry salary they’d offered.

Of course, freedom only went so far. Like tonight. She was at the beck and call of the Holland’s. Twenty four hours a day. Seven days a week. Holidays. Weekends. She was just a phone call away.

She waits for Sam just outside her front door, ripped blue jeans, the first she’d found on her floor, and grey hoodie pulled over her head. The moon is bright in the sky and, though it was summer, a cool breeze blows down the lane. Fireflies flicker in the garden across the street.

-----

“I guess Rosie can be on my team.” Harrison shrugs and grunts as the girl in question punches him in the shoulder, “Not fair.” He admonished “I wasn’t paying attention.” 

“That’ll teach you. I’m just as good as any of those other boys.” Rosie stares him down, her arms crossed over her chest. Harrison laughs at her sour expression. Her nose wrinkles in distaste. The other two teams of boys laugh from their positions on the patio. Sam and Paddy stand ready with their jar and Tom and Harry are ready with their own. 

“Enough.” Tom snaps, “You know the rules. Two points for each bee you catch-”

“Five points for the red arsed ones!” Harry adds.

Rosie rolls her eyes “This is the stupidest game I’ve ever heard of”

“No one said you had to play Lil Doc. You can go sit with your Mummy for all I care.” Tom throws out challenging.

Harrison glances from one to the other and sees the stubborn set of both of their jaws. Rosie fights him when he throws his arm over her shoulders. He thought she’d been stubborn when he’d met her, but the years had only made her more hard headed. At 11, she was formidable, not backing down from 13 year old Tom for any reason. Bosses son or not, if Rosie thought Tom was trying to get one over on her she was going to call him out. Guaranteed. It was Harrison’s job to keep them from coming to blows.

“Ah, get off it Holland. You're just afraid of my lucky charm here.”

“She isn’t lucky. She’s just a girl.” Harrison holds Rosie back before she can lunge at the oldest Holland heir.

“She’s my girl Holland and you better watch out.”

-----

Sam leans across the seat with a grim smile. He pushes the door open and Rosie quickly climbs in, slinging her pack on the floor. She was sure she’d have everything she needed when she got to the house but she believed in back up and contingencies.

“Do you know what I’m walking into?”

Sam is quiet, his eyes plastered on the road in front of him. “Sam?”

They take a corner faster than normal and Rosie braces herself against the door.

“Tom and the boys went out to have… a talk with some under bosses. Apparently there was less talking than previously anticipated.” His smile is grim, his tone dry.

“What am I looking at?”

“A couple grazes, probably some stitches” he pauses for a second. Sam had a shit poker face. He’d always been better at the behind the scenes workings of the family, never had the stomach for the some of the more...unpleasant business, but he had a brain for numbers and found ways to work magic with some creative accounting. “Someone took one to the gut.” 

Sam falls quiet again. 

Rosie pulls in a deep breath of air before attempting to relax back into the plush leather. She can feel her palms begin to sweat, can her her heartbeat thrumming  in her ears. Closing her eyes and pulling her legs up onto the seat, she tries to center herself. 

The ER rotations had been enjoyable. It was always something new, something different. It had forced her to stay sharp. Kept her on her toes. Rosie would be lying to say she hadn’t enjoyed a certain amount of adrenaline that went along with it, the ability to forget about everything that wasn’t the immediate task at hand. All of that was a lot easier to cop to when it wasn’t people you cared about at stake. While she’d only been back a few months after drowning herself in years of schooling, the boys would always be hers and she took her responsibility seriously. 

In school she’d never gone in by herself. There had always been a cadre of other doctors, residents, experienced nurses there to back you up if you needed it. She wasn’t going to have that and that thought scared her.

-----

“Come on Ro” Harrison hisses lowly, “move it or lose it.” 

Rosie’s converse slap the ground as she jogs to keep up with Harrison’s much longer strides. Water splashes as she missteps and her feet land in a puddle, soaking her shoes and socks in an instant.

“A little discretion, Princess” her companion jibes. The dirty look she sends him shuts him up.

“I don’t even know what I’m doing out here with you.” She growls as she catches up, pressing in close behind his back as the blend into the shadows. She can feel the vibrations of his quiet laugh.

“I needed a spotter and you’re looking for a rush. Getting bored in your ivory tower, Darling?”

“Fuck off, Haz. You could have called Tom.”

Harrison glances over his shoulder, boyish smile in a black hoodie. He winks at her.

“Toms not good luck.”

She’d known it was a bad idea when Harrison had called and said he needed her help with a project. There were loads of questions she should have asked. Why me? 

What’s the project? 

Am I going to be arrested?

If Doc knew how many times the “sweet Holland boys” had nearly gotten her tied up with the law or jumped by whomever they’d managed to piss off that week she was sure she’d never be allowed to leave the house ever again. 

She was partly to blame. She knew that. She needed what the boys offered, danger and excitement. It’s why she could never say no, even if she did make them work for it. She was happy to accept Tom’s bribes. She was easily swayed by Harrison’s bright blue eyes and smile that always promised trouble.

She skids to a stop behind him when he suddenly slows. Her eyes flash to his and she can see the way he’s staring at the BMW they’ve stopped in front of. He licks his lips and she squirms.

“Alright, ready for this?”

She can feel her eyes go wide with shock as he starts rummaging in his pocket, “Ready for what?”

“To steal the car?” He rolls his shoulders, shakes his hands out before flashing her a cocky smirk.

“Harrison, if you get me arrested Michael is going to kill you.”

“So you’re going to help me?” There’s underlying nerves in his voice. He tried so hard to be the big bad in training but she could still see that nervous fifteen year old boy peeking through. 

“Yeah, I’ve got you.”

The boost went fine. It was what happened when her step father had found them later that wasn’t so fine.

Rosie watches in stunned silence, tears stinging at her cheeks as Michael lands another blow across Harrison’s face. Their joyride has been cut short but the arrival of her step father. Harrison tries to remember the way her hand felt in his as he drove. The confused smile she’d given him when he reached across the console and twined his fingers with hers. Best thirty minutes of his life.

“You think you’re a big man? You think your ready for this life” Michael snarls in the teens face. “Here are the fucking consequences for dragging my daughter into your fucking games.”

“Michael! Daddy, stop!” 

Harrison can hear Rosie’s shrill pleas. He’s pretty sure his nose is broken, knows his lip is split. there’s blood in his mouth too and he’s not sure anymore what came first. This hadn’t been part of the plan.

Michael spins on his daughter, “you’re not innocent in this. You’re gonna break your mother’s heart when she finds out.”

“She didn’t know…” Harrison manages to get out, spitting blood on the ground at his feet. Michael Doherty was a big man and Harrison has to fight the urge to cringe back when he turns back to him. He takes the punch to his gut the best he can, fighting back tears of his own as he tries desperately to suck in a breath of air.

“And why is that son?” He asks darkly before answering his own question. “Because she fucking trusts you. That’s why. She doesn’t ask you the right questions and your gonna get her killed dragging her into this shite. Does she even know whose car that was?”

Harrison’s eyes fall to his feet as he gasps for breath. He hadn’t thought about that. There were loads of things he hadn’t thought of. He’d just wanted to show off a little. Impress the girl he-

“Exactly, and when the Russians rolled up and caught you? Do you know what they would have done to her...fuck! Rosie get in the car.” He growls quietly, not turning back to his daughter. Harrison can make out her face over her father's shoulder. She shakes her head from side to side.

“But…”

“No ‘buts’, get your arse in the car.”

Harrison watches her red-rimmed eyes fall as she climbs in the passenger seat of the Doc’s Mercedes. She doesn’t look away from him. Michael comes close, fists his hands in the youths jacket. Harrison can feel his hot breath by his ear. Rosie’s hand presses on the glass as he sets his jaw, takes the punishment he’s earned.

“You know what the Russians would have done to her right in front of you?”

Harrison chokes back a wrecked sound “yes, sir.”

“They’d have made you watch. I can’t… fuck...You think of that, son. She’s not for you. Not now. Maybe never.”

-----

It seems that every light in the Manor is on as Sam comes to the stop outside the front door. Dom Holland is standing, waiting, with light spilling out around him. It’s strange to see him in night clothes, flannel pajamas and house slippers, instead of a three piece suit. Rosie offers a tired smile as he holds out his hand for her. He’d always be “Uncle Dom” to her but every now and then she’d see the boss underneath the jovial facade.while he was less present these days, passing off day to day handling of the families holdings to Tom, he was nowhere near a toothless tiger.  

His brow is set in a hard line as she gives him a firm shake.

“Doc, thanks for coming out” 

Neither of them acknowledge that she didn’t have a choice in the matter. “seems the boys got in a dust up tonight.”

“So it seems” 

Rosie follows the family Patriarch through the expansive foyer and deeper into the house. He wastes no time. There’s a briskness to his movements, not panicked but certainly hurried.

“Harry and Tom are gonna need some bandaging, maybe a stitch or two but you need to attend to Harrison first. Got him in the infirmary already.”

Rosie’s steps falter. 

“He got shot.” She states feeling a fresh wave of anxiety wash over her. 

“A few times, yeah.”

Dom had the forethought years ago, before Rosie’s Mother’s time, to have one room in the family home converted to a makeshift treatment room. It was impressive and, though it was small, it had everything a person could need to doctor a mobster or two. Or in this case just one.

Harry is the first to look up and greet her from his perch on the small rolling stool. His mouth is a grim line, his thin lips pressed so tightly together they nearly disappear. Rosie’s eyes don’t linger as she notes Tom on the other side of the exam table, his eye is swelling, already turning black. A laceration over his eye looks freshly cleansed with steri strips holding it together. Neither Holland is her concern now. It’s Harrison, skin so washed out and pale that he nearly disappears into the sterile white of the room, that has her nerves tingling. His eyes are shut and he makes no acknowledgement that anyone has come in.

“Out Tom. Not enough room for all of us.” She says softly already moving toward the small sink to scrub her hands “get some ice on your eye.”

Tom nods only hesitating to rest a hand on her shoulder for a split second. “You sure?” 

“I’ve got him” she says but she’s not sure if it’s to him or to prop up herself.

“Harry? How are you doing?” She glances over her shoulder at the younger Holland.

“I’ve… been better.” Harry’s retort is clipped, his voice strained. 

“Mind telling me what happened?”

“I’m right here, Princess. I can report all the gorey details” Harrison’s eyes flutter weakly for the first time since she’s entered the room. His voice sounds like shit, like he’d just gotten done gargling glass shards but his eyes find hers. Despite their glassy edge they hold all the warmth she grown to know over the years. 

Rosie dries her hands quickly before digging in a nearby cabinet. When she turns back her arms laden with supplies, IV kit, tubing, and bags of fluids. 

“I expect you can” she says with a huff, “Right now, I need you to shut up while I’m pulling bullets out of you” Her eyes don’t leave Harrison, watching his shallow breathing, silently counting each draw of air he takes. His eyes fall away from hers.  “Now, Harry, what happened.” She asks shooing him to the side and drawing a rolling  tray within reach.

Harry steps back, giving her room to work. Rosie’s eyes fall to the slowly spreading stain on his left forearm. It’s hardly noticeable through the black shirt he’s wearing but she knows she’s going to spend some quality time with him and a suture kit later.

“We went down to the club. Tom arranged a meet with Piotr. He brought some of his boys.”

Moving as he speaks Rosie uses shears to cut Harrison’s shirt open before getting a line of fluids going in his arm. He barely flinches as the catheter slips into his skin. It makes her frown, tough guy could take a punch but he hated needles on the best of days.

Leaning over Harrison to adjust the fluids Rosie notes a pile of blood-soaked gauze pads already staining the tiles. The worry she’s feeling matches what she see in Harry’s eyes when they meet. 

Harry goes on.

“A new sharking operation popped up the last quarter. We were supposed to be coming to some terms, figuring out how to get the little cunt running it to fuck off.  One second it was expensive vodka, toasting to new opportunities the next… all hell broke loose.”

“it was a fucking set up, is what it was.” Harrison’s voice is a mumble but the disgust in it is evident.

Rosie looks down at him. He looks up sullenly, a twinge of pain shooting across his face when she readjusts the pressure on his wound. A black mask is forming at the corners of his eyes, a knot in the bridge of his nose is prominent. 

“Your nose is broken” Not a question, but a statement.

“Thanks for noticing.” He moves gingerly, adjusting his body on the propped table. 

Rosie presses harder on his side and Harrison hisses “Hold still you div” she mutters darkly. Harrison swats weakly at her hands. She brushes it off easily.

Harry moves to the sink, begins to unbutton his sleeve and peel back the fabric. Rosie shakes her head.

“Careful” she warns “rinse it good, use the antiseptic wash. Wrap in some clean gauze.” she can feel Harrison’s eyes on her but she ignores the pull to look at him. “I’ll have a go at you after I'm done with this mess.”

“I’m right here” Harrison grunts. Rosie blows out a frustrated puff of air.

“Yes, a fact I’m very well aware of. Your bloods on my new trainers.”

“I’ll get you a new pair.” Rosie cocks a brow, “You’ll shut your mouth is what you’ll do.”

 Harry chuckles and Rosie's glare snaps to him “Got something to say? No?” her fatigue and irritation bleed together “Good, maybe you can tell me how the div got himself shot?”

“With a gun, Princess.” Harrison’s weak attempt at a smile looks pained. It softens something in her, takes the edge of her ire unexplainably.

“Shut up Harrison” she says tiredly. 

“I heard three shots” Harry explains, shoving his arm under a steady stream of water as he speaks. Rosie watches the stream run red as it falls to the drain. “It was close quarters. I didn’t even know what was going on until I saw him stepping in front of Tom. Maybe two took? One in the shoulder and that one.” Rosie’s  moves a hand to push back the remnants of Harrison’s shirt. She curses under her breath. She hadn’t even noticed the one to his right shoulder. 

“It went in and out.” Harry notes. “Two holes”

Two holes were better than one. It meant the bullet had gone in than out and she wouldn't need to go fishing for it. Unlike his side.

“Fuck it all Haz” she murmurs, rubbing a spot on her forehead.

“Don’t go getting emotional on me now Doc.” His words slur together gently, eyelids getting heavy again. Her heartbeats hard in her chest. 

“Nuh uh… keep those eyes open.” She empties a long pair of tweezers onto her table “I need you to tell me when it hurts.” Harrison groans. “News flash, everything fucking hurts.” 

Rosie gives him a hard look, peeling off her gloves she cups his cheek gently. New tactic. She can feel Harry’s eyes on them. Harrison’s head rolls into her hand. 

“Come on tough guy” she pitches her voice low as her thumb strokes his cheek, “Need you to do this for me. I’ll get you the good drugs. Just cooperate, yeah?” Harrison’s eyes rolls to her. He moves as if he’s drunk, the blood loss was not treating him well and Rosie really wanted to get him closed up before he lost much more. She drags her hand away, pulling on a new pair of gloves. Harrison winces when he hears the latex snap against her skin. “One condition” Rosie watches his eyes focus in on her movements, how he waits until she’s fully focused on him and not the task at hand. “Kiss me”

“Harrison…” she warns

“Kiss me or I’ll die.”

Harry chokes out a laugh and Rosie glares up at him from her seat.

“Don’t start with me. You’re not going to die.” she huffs

“....not if you kiss me, I won’t. Promise”

-----

Tom gives Harrison’s shoulders a squeeze, “You’ve got this, lad. No worries, yeah?”

The blonde shrugs him off, rolls his shoulders experimentally, loosening the tension building between them. He’d been training for this match for ages. He bounces on the balls of his feet, trying to calm the nerves surging through him. He had this, like Tom said. 

So why was his stomach in such knots? He vaguely hears a knock on the locker room door but instead chooses to work through some combinations, warming his muscles and ignoring the tension building within him.

He hisses his breath out through a combo. Jab. Jab. Uppercut. 

“Looking good tough guy.”

The grin that cuts across his face as he turns to find Rosie standing in his locker room door is radiant. He didn’t know if she’d come when he’d told her about it. Doc and Michael had sent the sixteen year old off to some fancy all girls school earlier in the year after one too many dust-ups that he and Tom may or may not have dragged her into. She hadn’t been around like any of the boys were used to. He’d missed her fiercely.

“You made it!”

 The other boys laugh as he takes two quick steps to the door and scoops her up, spins her in a big circle. He can feel her giggling and he doesn’t remember a time he’s ever been so chuffed to see someone. Her arms go around his neck as he sets her back down, they both stumble a little and laugh some more. Her soft hazel eyes look up at him, always an open book for him to read.

“I wouldn’t have missed this for the world.” The admission is soft, just for him.

“She skipped school” Sam interjects loudly and Rosie turns, flashing him an impressive scowl.

“Hush you…”

“Your parents are going to kill you” Harry laughs.

“More worried about what they’re going to do to us when they find out the reason, the Princess here dipped out” Tom flashes a shark like smile to Harrison. Yeah, Michael wasn’t going to be pleased but he’d taken his licks from the old man once before for. He’d do it again if he had to.

Rosie rolls her eyes, arching a brow in Tom’s direction. Her shoulder presses into Harrison’s chest, his arm resting gently at her waist. It feels...really nice.

“You leave my parents to me.” 

Tom laughs, as his eyes move from Rosie to Harrison and back. Harrison gives him a questioning look.

“Something funny, Thomas?” Rosie's hand goes to her hip as she pulls away from Harrison. It pops out to the side and he can’t help but remember the first time he’d met her as a little girl in the Holland’s garden.

Harrison watches the quirk of her lips as she shoots Tom a look. His heart does an unfamiliar flop.

Laughing through a small cough,  Tom says nothing, shakes his head. 

“You just here to distract our fighter or what?” Harry teases. Rosie puffs out a laugh.

“M’not a distraction. Just wanted to wish the tough-guy good luck.” 

He may be mistaken but Harrison swears he sees her cheeks going pink. It’s cute. She’s cute. He’s thought it before of course, he appreciated nice things but something about now… maybe it was the distance, not seeing her for months on end with only the occasional call, but it’s like his eyes have finally been opened to the fact that she wasn’t just a pesky little girl anymore, not just one of his best friends.

“So I suppose you wouldn’t be opposed to giving a lad a good luck kiss?”

The words have slipped from his mouth before he even has time to really think them over. Rosie’s eyes snap to him as the other boys laugh.

“Aww..Haz…” Harry chortles, “what about I lay one on you.”

Harrison’s eyes don’t leave Rosie, “wouldn't work mate, you’re not my good luck charm.”

He can hear the “oof” as Tom cuffs his brother, hears him whisper something about ‘love birds’ and ‘privacy’ as he drags Harry out, Sam following obediently behind him. The door closes softly and he’s still staring at her, watching her chewing her lower lip and looking up at him.

“So, Princess, what do you say? Good luck kiss for your favorite boxer?”

Rosie laughs, “I’m not good luck.”

“Kiss me and let's find out.” His voice dips low. He can hear the dull roar of the gathered crowd. “I bet you are.”

“Haz…”

“Ro…” his gloved hand bumps gently against her chin, tilting it up for him. “Scared?”

“Of you?” She breathes quietly, “never.”

She rises on her toes, hands falling flat against his chest, Harrison tilts his head down to meet her lips. It’s a soft kiss, just a quick gentle press but it is everything. Her eyes are closed when she pulls back and he takes a second to admire her, to commit her to memory. 

“Did that feel lucky?” She asks, eyes opening to meet his.

“Yeah” he mumbles “pretty sure it did.”

She frowns. Before he can ask her what’s wrong she leans up again, her lips pressing against his more firmly, more needy as he stumbles back. His arms wrap around her, holding her close while her mouth moves against his. She nips at his lower lip as she pulls away again. Harrison groans as his gloves slip over her unable to grip onto anything. All the nerves from earlier have disappeared as he looks down at the girl in his arms. 

“Do you feel more than ‘sure’ now?” She asks him sweetly. He huffs out a laugh.

“At least a third round KO.” Her lips quirk.

“Maybe another would make it a first round?”

“Ro-

“Harrison, you’re up mate” Tom’s head peeks around the door, studies the pair of them with a smirk.

“...we’re going to discuss this later, yeah?”

Her soft smile and nod is all the encouragement he needs.

Harrison knocks out his opponent at the end of the second. His father, Dom, and Michael meet him back at the locker room to congratulate him. Rosie doesn’t show.

-----

“Harry! Grab me the morphine! Hold his arm!”

Harry knocks over a bottle of saline in his rush to meet her demands 

“One thing at a fucking time!” he snaps.

Harrison was fighting her attempts to fish the bullet from his side. He wasn’t trying to be a shit about it (she was pretty sure) but he wasn’t thinking clearly either. Each time he jerked away the bullet wiggled from her grasp and more blood gushed from the wound. She was a mess. It was like a damn horror movie.

“Fuck it all, Harrison. Stop!” She growls. Harry fumbles to remove the cap from the needle. “Stab him in the fucking arm. Six centimeters below the shoulder” Harry hovers the needle over his mates deltoid as Rosie leans across Harrison’s lap, trying to keep his wrists pinned to the table. “Yes! There!”

The needle finds it mark and Harry pushes every last bit in. Rosie can feel a drop of sweat beading at her temple, a wisp of hair settles in it. She flips her head in an effort to get the stray strands away from her face. It doesn’t work.

 She waits. Counts in her head. 

Five minutes go by before Harrison begins to go slack and she can let loose. 

When she glances up he gives her a drugged grin.

“Pretty…” he mumbles. Rosie huffs.

“Fucking div…” she grumbles, pulling her hair back into a bun before putting on fresh gloves “think you can hold still now?”

“Anything for you…” he trails off sleepily. Rosie sits back down, prods at the oozing hole. Harrison barely twitches.

Harry has deep lines of exhaustion etched across his face. When she looks up she catches him slumped against the counter his head bobbing.

“Har? Can you get me a cup of tea, one for yourself too?”

Harry nods, he doesn’t ask for confirmation that she doesn’t need him like his brother had. His face shows relief to be away from the blood and the tension of the situation.

When he’s gone Rosie slumps back on the stool, sighs quietly. Harrison’s breathing has relaxed, his eyes shut.

“Hazza?”

“Yeah beautiful?” He cracks an eye as she lifts the tweezers again.

“M’gonna get this bullet out of you. I just need you to hold still” she explains softly “can you do that for me?” He nods lazily, glassy eyes watching her movements.

The tweezers slip into the rough edges of the wound. One gloved hand rests along his side, the muscles tense under her hand. Her movements are slow, steady.

“I gotcha tough-guy.” She murmurs as she continues to explore the wound. Her teeth press into her bottom lip as she concentrated on the task. She can feel the tweezers brush up against something. Harrison groans lowly, his face twisted in a grimace, a new stream of crimson runs down his abdomen, adding to the growing stains on his khaki trousers.

“I’ve almost got it…” she mumbles “I’ve almost got it...hold still.” He squirms under her hands. 

“Harrison I’ll give you a kiss if you hold still.” She promises, desperation edging her voice. She feels him freeze and the tweezers close around the bullet. 

His face goes slack as she pulls the ammo from him. They’re both breathing heavily as the bullet clanks in a pool of blood at his side. 

The patch job goes quickly after that. Rosie’s focus goes to flushing the wounds, suturing layers of flesh back together, taping down pressure dressings to both his side and his shoulder.

“You’re gonna have some new, pretty scars” she murmurs, smiling softly as she lays a final piece of tape. Harrison’s grin is lazy and drugged, he reaches weakly for her but his injured shoulder won’t allow it to raise like he wants. His brows knit and a frown crosses his face.

“Do I get my kiss now?”

She’s weary, bone deep, as the adrenaline from earlier dissipates. She slips her hand into his searching one.

“I suppose you deserve it” 

Leaning in she lets her lips brush against his cheek. His frown doesn’t fall away.

“Doesn’t count.” His left hand moves up, index finger graze across her lips and then moves to his own. “You can do better.”

“Yeah?” Her hand cups his cheek softly as she brings her face close to his. Her lips brush against his. Harrison makes a soft sound in his throat as he leans forward. “Relax Harrison…” she breathes the words against his mouth, pressing his chest until he’s relaxed back against the table. 

“It’s as good as good as I remember.” He mumbles.

-----

The party is In full swing. Rosie’s on her third pint...or maybe it was her fourth. Tom has lost count. He hasn’t let her glass empty, citing being a good host and definitely not the fact that he wanted to see her thoroughly hammered before the night was out. If she was blitzed enough maybe she could forget the melancholy she’s been toting around all night.

She's curled up by herself on the love seat by the billiards table. Harry and Sam are focused on the game at hand. Rosie would usually be taking the piss out of one of them or fussing at them for puffing on the Cuban cigars his father kept in the humidor. Not tonight. She’s quiet, an unusual occurrence for her. In the years Tom’s known her she’s always had something to say but tonight, not so much. 

Tom’s eyes follow her gaze to Harrison across the room. He’s set up shop with Rosie’s luscious blonde roommate, Julia, in one of the chunky armchairs near the french doors, her long legs are draped over the arm of the chair as she sits perched on Harrison's lap. 

The two had been seeing each other for a few months now. Rosie introduced them. She’d just finished her freshman year at school and the boys had thought a celebration was in order. Rosie had brought Julia along after she’d been stood up by a date. It had been a nice gesture on Rosie’s part. It had completely blown up in her face.

 Tom had watched that night, as the rounds progressed, how Harrison and Julia had gotten closer and closer. His hand moving from soft touches on her arm to cupping her ass as they danced. Rosie’s eyes had followed it all with a disconnected gaze. She joked it off as if it didn’t slice her to the core. 

“Boys will be boys” she’d groused to Harry with a flippant shrug and a smile that didn’t meet her eyes.

At the end of the night when the pair had gotten a cab together, Harrison had  praised Rosie for being his lucky charm, winking at her while one arm was wrapped around Julia’s waist. 

Tom sniffed in distaste at the memory of the whole ordeal. He’d put off his own piece of tail that night, stuck her in a cab alone, to take care of his friend. He’d had to listen to Rosie cry softly in bed next to him while he stroked her hair and whispered soft words to her until she fell asleep.

 He had to pretend to believe her the next morning when she told him everything “was great”.

Julia laughs and Tom can see Rosie’s spine stiffen, her knuckles going white around her pint glass. 

It was ridiculous. All of it. Rosie and Harrison had been circling around one another since they were kids. It was plain as day to everyone around them. Maybe that’s why it had been such a shit show. 

Ro’s old man had felt that no guy was good enough for his princess and had made it very clear to Harrison about how he felt when he’d begun sniffing around in earnest. It had given the lad a bit of a complex. 

Tom watched as Harrison pushed himself. To get better grades, to be stronger, faster, smarter than the next guy in hopes that one day he would be the man Rosie deserved. It had gone on for too long. It had become almost pathological for Harrison. Nothing he ever did was good enough in his own eyes. So he settled for perfectly acceptable girls who weren’t who he really needed. Like Julia.

And Rosie… well Rosie’s problem had been that she hadn’t recognized Harrison until it was already too late. She’d been what his mum had called a ‘late bloomer’. Closer in age to Harry and Sam than Tom and Harrison, Rosie had always been one of the boys. When Harrison was realizing she was certainly different than his other mates she was still completely oblivious to his awkward attempts at flirting. If Tom was honest, the whole thing was a fucking train wreck to watch.

“Tommy?” Rosie’s sweet voice drags him from his thoughts. 

“Yeah, Ro?” He has no time to react as she flops down in his lap and he fumbles forward to keep his drink in hand, cursing lowly as drops of beer roll down his arm, soaking into the rolled cuffs of his shirt. “Fucking Christ...Jesus Rosie I-“ his voice cuts off when she looks at him her eyes brimming with tears.

“Can I leave now?” He glances at her empty glass, the lost look in her eyes that don’t fully focus on him. Maybe he’d been a little overzealous with the drinks. Rosie Doherty didn’t ask permission. It had always been something he admired about her. She didn’t cow down to him, the bosses son, like others did. The fact that she was now wasn’t good. He wraps his free arm around her. She was the closest thing he was ever going to have to a sister and he hated seeing her upset.

“You’ve only been here a few hours. Don’t you wanna play some pool with Sammy and me later?” 

She shakes her head, glancing over her shoulder. Tom’s eyes follow hers to where Harrison has his head buried in Julia’s neck. 

“Look up here princess.” He demands her attention quietly. She’s relaxes minutely as she lays her head on his shoulder and looks up at him. “I don’t wanna see you look over there one more time tonight. You’re better than that. I’m not putting you in a cab either. Your Father would skin me alive if let you out of this house by yourself, drunk as a skunk.”

Tom can’t help but chuckle at the pout she gives him, ruby red bottom lip jutting out. God, she could be such a mess after too many. Always cute though.

 “How about we have a sleepover? Like old times? I tuck you in my bed and I’ll make us pancakes in the morning?”

Rosie seems to think about it, her head begins to turn back toward Harrison when he barks out a laugh but Tom grips her jaw, turns it back. “Pancakes, Ro.”

“Pancakes.” She repeats, with a yawn, “pancakes are good.”

Tom grins down, patting her arm gently. “Atta girl, now let's get you up to bed.”

He happens to glance back at Harrison as he gets to the library door. He’s no longer focused on Julia, only on the way Tom’s hand rests low on Rosie’s back, guiding her along. If the set of Harrison’s jaw meant anything, he was sure to hear about this later.

-----

“How is he, Doc?” 

The question startles Rosie and she lets out a quiet gasp. The kitchen had been dark. She’d thought she’d been alone. Harry had never returned with her tea and she was dying for a drink. 

Tom sits in the breakfast nook surrounded by shadows. A tumbler in front of him undoubtedly holds the expensive scotch he always favored.

“Shit Tom...I’m gonna put a bell around your neck.” The young mob boss laughs.

“Sorry about that” He holds up a second tumbler and wiggles it, “You look like you could use a drink.”

Rosie chews at her lip for a moment. Tea was probably the smart bet but yeah, alcohol wasn’t always a bad idea either. “The good stuff?”

“Glenfiddich 21. Always.”

Rosie slips into a chair across from him as he pours a few fingers into the spare glass. “I’ve still got to get Harry taken care of.” she mumbles taking a mouthful the rich amber liquid. It’s smooth like she’s come to expect. It lingers long after she’s swallowed it down, the taste of oak and fruit lingering on her palate. 

“I sent him up to bed an hour ago” Tom holds a hand up before Rosie’s able to argue, “His arm will keep until the morning. He’s gone longer with worse. How’s Harrison?”

The enforcer was good. Sam had come to relieve her a while ago and help the drugged man to his own bed. “He’ll live this time, I suppose” She says taking another swallow. Tom reaches over and tops her off again. 

“What about you?” Even in the low light she can see the sharp line of his jaw, his concerned expression. Rosie huffs. Takes a breath. Her hand trembles as she sets the glass down.

“I’m good.” Tom’s jaw ticks. “Well, yeah, it was a bit much but it’s what I’ve been trained for” she goes on after a minute “I’m sure it’ll happen again. It’s the first but it’s not going to be the last i-”

“Ro, we’ve known each other for what? Coming on 20 years pretty quick if I remember correctly” he smirks “and I do remember correctly. You know that’s not what I meant.”

Her jaw clenches as she stubbornly refuses to respond. Tom takes it as a sign to continue.

“You know, at one time I thought ‘Hey, maybe Rosie girl and I could make a go of it. She’s fucking gorgeous. She’s brilliant. We’d make a smart partnership’ but I never did anything about you know why?” Rosie shakes her head quietly, lets her finger run around the rim of the tumbler but doesn’t move to take another drink. “You’re my family Rosie. I will love you till the end of time but I don’t love… never have loved you like he does.”

“Tom..”

“No, shut up, let me say my piece. I’ve spent too much time watching you two hurt one another and I’m done with it. Do you hear me?” he takes a long drink, emptying the glass before setting it down, running a hand through his short hair. “Everything he is. Everything he’s ever aspired to be is because of you. To be good enough for you. Do you realise that?”

Rosie sniffs, “I never needed him to be anything other than who he is. He’s never had to prove himself to me.”

“No? Did you tell him-”

“Did he tell me?” She throws the questions back, leaning forward. “And the string of women he paraded through. Julia? Claire? Tania? Did he really ‘love them’ too?

Tom laughs low, “Yeah the Julia thing, that was...something but then you stopped coming around. You were already off at your fancy school and then poof your were gone completely. Only time you showed your face was holidays. You didn’t see him trying to fill that gaping hole you left with those other girls. He never could figure out why they didn’t work” Tom reaches for the bottle and pours another drink. “I knew though…” He takes another sip, tipping his glass toward her “they weren’t you.”

-----

“You’re a motherfucker Holland. You know that right?”

Tom rolls his eyes to the ceiling. He was lying if he said he hadn’t been waiting for it. Per the clock on the wall it was quarter twelve. He was surprised it took this long. Hands shove him from behind. He stumbles half a step before catching himself on the counter top. He spins to meet Harrison head on. Out of habit his hand lands on the holster at his shoulder. Harrison’s eyes flicker. “Watch yourself, Haz” Tom warns lowly, straightening and smoothing his jacket, covering the gun back up, “if there's something we need to discuss you come at me like a man and not some chicken shit cunt.” Harrison rolls his head, Tom can hear his neck crack as he does. 

“That’s rich coming from you. Going behind my back-”

Tom thumbs at his nose “Choose your next words wisely mate…”

“You and Rosie.” Harrison steps forward, in his space, but Tom doesn't back away. He turns his chin up, stares him dead in the eyes. Hands come up and shove the blonde back a step. He doesn’t give him time to right himself. “And if I wanted to bed her? Fuck her within an inch of her life, what claim do you have?” Uncertainty flashes through Harrison’s blue eyes. 

“None!” Tom barks, “You have fucking none, Haz! She’s not your girl and she’s not mine so get off my fucking case.” The confusion continues to shadow Harrison’s features.

“I saw you-” Tom is quick to interrupt him again, fuck him for questioning his intentions with their friend. 

“You saw me helping my very drunk, very sad friend to bed. It’s not the first time and as long as the two of you keep doing this dance...and mind you it’s getting fucking old, mate...around each other it probably won’t be the last.”

Harrison rubs roughly at the back of his neck. He pulls in a deep breath. His eyes focus on a point on the ceiling.

“I’m allowed to bring my girlfriend around.” his voice is dull, the fury draining, as he speaks. Tom knows why.

“Not if your trying to use her to get to Rosie, you’re not. That’s not fair to either of them.”

“Rosie doesn’t give a shit about what I do.” Tom laughs out loud, bitter and tired of the whole situation. 

“I’ve got a tear stained pillow that says otherwise.” 

-----

It takes a moment to realize where he is, waking from a black, dreamless sleep into an equally dark room. His shoulder throbs and his side aches and complains at each attempt he makes to adjust in bed. All in all, Harrison thinks it could be worse. He could have woken up dead.

He doesn’t remember getting to bed. He doesn’t remember much of anything accept Rosie’s soft voice and warm lips brushing against his own. It’s probably the remnants of a fever dream, to much narcotic and not enough blood, but it makes him feel slightly less awful about staining the back seat of Tom’s Audi.

Gingerly, he reaches for the lamp across the night stand, it’s slow going as his body protests the movement. He hisses in pain as he makes one final push and flips the switch. It’s not particularly bright, the warm glow only lighting a small block of the room and casting grotesque shadows over the rest. It is enough though to make out the form curled up asleep in the armchair across the room.

Her chin is tucked to her chest and the thin Afghan, usually relegated to decoration on the back of the chair, is wrapped around her shoulders. Her legs are invisible, pulled up so under the blanket. She looks soft, asleep like this.

It’s been too long since he’s seen her in anything more than an “official” setting, strolling through the house in business suits or a white lab coat left over from a shift at the clinic. He misses it. He misses her.  He misses the girl with the French braids rolling down her back, the girl who would help him plot mischief, the one who would fall asleep watching scary movies with the volume turned down low so their parents wouldn’t catch them. Mostly though, he misses seeing the woman she’s become. There were so many things he’d wanted to tell her for so long but never had the chance and now, she’s asleep a meter away and he can’t bear it. 

She adjusts in the chair, eyes fluttering open. Her stretching is cat like and elegant before relaxing back into the chair, resting her arms on her knees, her chin on her arms.

“You’re alive.” She mumbles, offering him a gentle smile. “Seems I’m still lucky.”

He laughs. “So it seems”. His smile fades as he watches her, watching him.

“You didn’t need to watch over me.”

“Tom insisted I stay.” She says cautiously. Harrison sees the way her eyes travel to the door.

“Did he say you had to stay in the uncomfortable straight back?”

“Harrison…”

He sighs, running his hand over his face. He feels gross where the thin sheen of sweat from the night has dried across his skin. “Rosie, why are you here?”

“Take your pills.” She encourages, ignoring his question as she motions to his night stand. He picks up the medicine cup.

“We need to talk about something… what are these?”

“The green ones are the Antibiotics. Pain pills are the others.”

Harrison pops the antibiotics into his mouth and drops the pain pills on the bedside table. He takes a long pull from the glass of tepid water sitting on the table. His mouth feels gummy and gross.

“I don’t want drugs.” He grumbles when she gives him a hard look. “I want to talk. Why are you here?” he repeats the earlier question. Rosie pauses, lays her cheek against her hands and looks away.

“I wanted to make sure you were ok, that you didn’t need anything…” she worries her lip between her teeth “I…. you scared me last night.”

“Well call me shocked. I didn’t think you still cared.” Maybe it was the injuries, the lack of sleep. Maybe it was the years of missing something he never got a chance to experience. Regardless, the words spill from his mouth with far more venom than he intended. Rosie flinches. When she looks back, he can see the weariness in her eyes. Not something born of fatigue from a poor night's sleep but something old and bone deep.

“I guess I deserved that.”

Harrison shakes his head. What was he doing? He stares down at his hands, there’s bruising along the knuckles of his right. Small cuts litter both. Scars from the life he’d chosen are immeasurable. “No, forget I said it. You don’t deserve that. You were focusing-“

“I was running Haz. Let’s be real.”

Harrison’s head snaps up. She’s giving him an unreadable look.

“For a long time I didn’t know what I wanted.” She laughs sadly, “and than I did and it was too late. So I pretended like it didn’t exist”

He can’t help the pained groan that escapes his gritted teeth and he tries to push himself to the edge of the bed. Rosie is already out of the chair and striding to him. “Damn it, stop moving” she snarls lowly “Christ, Haz. if you pop those stitches I’ll kill you myself.” He’d laugh if it didn’t hurt so bad.

Rosie settles him back into bed, tutting and mumbling about stupid men and Harrison lets her. Her hands are warm against his bare chest and he basks in her attention. She pulls back for one moment and the next she’s pushing the cup of painkillers in his hand. He looks her dead in the eye as he throws it across the room. 

When Rosie tries to move away his hand grabs hers, pulls her down onto the bed. His grip tightens when she tries to get up.

“Look at me. Stop it.” He demands lowly. She turns her head, rolls her eyes. “This has gone on for too long and I’m done.” He watches her eyes widen. “I’m done wasting time and living like everything is ok.” He pulls in a shuddering breath. “This is how it’s gonna work, Princess; I’m going to talk and your going to listen and were going to clear the air of some shite that we should have taken care of ages ago. Understand?” She nods and Harrison is more than happy to accept that for the time being. Rosie turns toward him, one knee on the bed the other dangling casually off of it. Her hands rest in her lap but he can see the nervous way she wrings her fingers.

“Rosie Doherty, I have spent the better part of my life trying to be a man worthy of you-” She opens her mouth to say something and he presses the palm of his hand over it. He can feel her hot breath when she huffs. It brings a grin to his face. “I’m talking“ he chides as he draws back. 

“I’ve worked harder than any man in this organization. I’ve lost blood, sweat, and tears for the Holland’s but you know what? It was never really about them, it was about you. About being a man who could take care of you, protect you. And it’s never enough. I’m never going to be everything you deserve.” he runs his hand over his cheek, pulling at the soft skin. “But I can’t do it anymore, I-”

“Harrison, shut up.” her words are soft, almost a whisper. The bed dips at his hip as she moves closer. “I never asked you to be more. I didn’t need that. I don’t care about that. I just needed you.” Gently he brings his hand to her cheek, feels the warm life burning underneath his touch. She covers his with her own. “I didn’t understand what was happening. I was just a dumb kid. One day my best friend and I are talking about the upcoming match and binging horror movies and the next he’s opening doors, telling me how pretty I look. I wasn’t ready and then…”

She trails off. This was as much as he’d gotten out of her in years and he wasn’t about to see her stop now. He needed this. Even if only for closure on this chapter in his life. 

“And then…” he prompts. Rosie’s eyes shine, wet with unshed tears.

“And then I realized that I was in love with my best friend and by that time it was too late. You’d moved on to Julia and than after that everytime I saw you it was another girl and the time was never right to say anything because you were finally happy and who the fuck was I to ruin that?”

Harrison catches the tear that rolls down her cheek. 

“No tears. No for me. Not now.”  His hand slips around to the back of her head and pulls her forward. Chapped lips press against her forehead and Rosie moves closer, her body pressing against the side of his. 

“I wasn’t happy with Julia or...any of them. I was lying to myself. Pretending that eventually I’d find that one girl that was ‘it’ but I never did. I wanted to be loved, to be wanted but they were never enough.”

Rosie lays her head on his shoulder, he can feel warm wet tears against his cooled skin.  “Why not?”

“Because I already found her. I met her when I was ten years old. I’ve loved her since I was fifteen. She’s been the only woman I could ever see myself with and, yeah, there have been other girls” he looks down at Rosie. “But I’ve only ever loved you.”

The soft hazel eyes, the ones he’d seen in his dreams for longer than he could remember look up at him. 

“You mean that?”

The laugh comes out of him before he can hold it back. His thumb strokes along her jaw. “Come here”. He draws her in slowly, enjoying the way her eyes flutter shut the moment before his mouth presses to hers, the soft sigh over his lips as she opens for him and his tongue tastes her. And then something changes and the kiss melds from something soft to something more...more of everything.

Years of pent up frustration, of longing spill over and Rosie is pulling his bottom lip into her mouth, sucking gently, and his hands are pulling her across his lap. Her knees land on either side of his hips as he wraps his arms around her waist. He gasps out a breath as her knee bumps against his bandaged side and lightning shoots through him.

He has to hold her tight to stop her escape. 

“It’s ok...don’t move… just” he pants. “Give me a second.” Rosie watches quietly, concern obvious across her face as his pinched expression slowly eases. Her hands cup his jaw, thumbs gently coaxing the muscles to relax. 

“Harrison,” her voice is soft but sure “I love you. I love you so much I don’t know what to do with it sometimes. I’ve spent years throwing myself into anything I could to forget you but I don’t want to anymore. I can’t.” 

She’s like an angel perched over him, a fucking dream. 

“You saying your mine, Princess?” She presses her lips together, fighting a smile as she nods. Harrison buries his head in her neck, inhales the scent of her skin, lets his lips play over her pulse as she squirms. Everything suddenly feels light, like the weight of a thousand suns has been lifted off his shoulders. “Say it.” He demands. “Need to hear it.” 

“Harrison Osterfield, I’m yours.” She manages through a sea of giggles as he nips at a ticklish spot. Her hands tangle in his hair, pulling him back. The weariness is gone from her eyes as she kisses him. This Is what it felt like, he thinks, to have everything you’ve ever wanted.

Their kisses turn languid, exploring each other’s mouths, hands roving over each other’s bodies. Clothes get peeled away, tossed into a pile on the floor. His body hurts but he can’t stop himself from reaching between her legs and finding the slick of arousal glistening on her sex. Rosie’s hand slips between them and strokes him with slow even movements. The morning light begins to spill through the eastern window, casting her body in a soft, early morning glow.

She braces her hands against his chest when he positions himself between her legs. There’s no words, only the encouragement of her full lips against his as she sinks down onto him for the first time. He swallows down the soft moans she makes, his hands on her hips as she rocks slowly against him. Her eyes are clouded with lust and he knows, now that he’s had her, there is no going back. There’s no other woman that can make him feel the way Rosie does. There’s no other woman he can love like he loves her. He tries to show her, tries to meet each rock of her hips with a thrust of his own bit Rosie smiles softly.

“You’re on light duty.” She says softly, “let me take care of you, tough-guy” 

And so he does. 

His hands roam over her body, feel the swell of her hips and the nip of her waist. Her breasts fill the palms of his hands and she makes the most delicate, needy sounds when he rolls her dusky nipples between his fingers. Her body clutches him, grips him in velvet heat that has him whining sounds of his own long before he’s ready too.

“Rosie...I’m close” slips from his mouth and she nods her head and continues to grind her body down on his. She leans into him, her chest presses against his as her mouth sucks tiny marks into his good shoulder. Her words are mumbled against his skin.

“Me too”

His hands fall to her hips and pull her tight against him. It’s only another minute before her body stills and he feels her come apart around him, her body trembling against him. He follows close behind, her name on his lips.

The sun is bright now, filling the room with light. Rosie dozes across his chest as their heart rates slow. Soon it will be time for them to get up, to take their first steps into a new world. Together. Harrison smiles.

It must be his lucky day.

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

Tag: @aossi​ @the-southernbelle​ @tomsrebeleyebrow​ @hazmyheart​ @procrastinatingismybiggestflaw​ @zselenophile​ @alltoowellbeneaththemangotree​ @gl0rynglam​

#Mob!haz #Harrison Osterfield #Haz Osterfield #haz osterfield fic #Harrison Osterfield fic #detroitbydark

[katzuyas]

as usual, I’m a terrible procrastinator (this time with good reason tho bc I’ve been dying bc of renovations for a good 4 months now jfc) but I found some time to finally do these so here’s the super longass chain of tags I’m very grateful for ❤️ thank you so much to all of you for thinking of me!! ❤️❤️❤️

tagged by @and-then-yoi-happened, @joeys-piano and @gabzjones -- thank you so much guys ❤️

📽 🎞 Post 10 gifs from your favorite movies without naming them and then tag 10 (or so) people. 📽 🎞 

I had more trouble with this than I thought I would omg it seems I don’t like all that many movies??? unless we want to count each hp and potc movie separately  😂😂

I’ll be tagging @story-kat, @sweet-vitya, @estellie, @ilarual, and @katsudonski for it, but feel free to ignore me if you don’t want to do it ^u^)b

tagged by @story-kat, thank you for the tag kat!

fall/autumn preferences

rules: bold what you prefer and tag 10 people

1. go apple picking vs go on a hay ride 2. scary vs. sweet 3. sweaters vs. boots 4. socks vs. mittens 5. bonfires vs. football 6. trick-or-treating vs. watch scary movies 9. bake pie vs. bake cookies 10. rain vs. fog 11. black cats vs. owls 12. ghosts vs. wizards 13. harry potter vs. halloweentown 14. go hiking vs. sleep in 15. cinnamon vs. nutmeg 16. reading vs. writing 17. hot chocolate vs. tea  18. live in a cabin in a forest vs. have it be fall 24/7 19. candy apples vs. caramel apples 20. blankets vs. pillows 21. roasted marshmallows vs. roasted chestnuts 22. coffee vs. apple cider  23. red leaves vs. orange leaves 24. braids vs. bows 25. scented candles vs. the smell of fresh baked goods 26. carve pumpkins vs. make pumpkin pie (neither is my thing tbqh) 27. pumpkin spice lattes vs. chai tea lattes 28. coats vs. oversized sweaters 29. beanies vs. berets  30. candy corn vs. peanut butter cups 31. s'mores vs. apple crisp 32. jump in a pile of leaves vs. swing on a tire 33. corn maze vs. haunted house (very much neither) 34. bob for apples vs. visit a pumpkin patch 35. whipped cream on hot chocolate vs. marshmallows on hot chocolate

I haven’t seen this one before so this was fun, thank you!

tagging @and-then-yoi-happened, @inlovewithyoi, @victuuritrash, @atesan, and @phichitschulanont

tagged by @dreaming-fireflies, thank you so much!! ❤️

Rules: answer the questions and tag 15 people you want to know better.

1) Relationship status: dating a really adorable boy ;3c

2) Lipstick or chapstick: chapstick bc lipstick always eats away so ugly and I can’t be bothered to reapply every time I lick my lips

3) three favourite foods: chicken fried rice, pepperoni pizza, pad thai

4) song stuck in your head: thunder and lightning by serayah

5) last movie you watched: jurassic world fallen kingdom

6) top three shows: game of thrones, rein, suits

7) book I am currently reading: nothing bc I’m just stuck to my pc writing all the time ;u;

8) last thing i googled: the link to the song above

9) time: 3:51 PM

10) dream trip: japan *u* but also harry potter studio tour bc first fandom always sticks with you *u*

11) anything you want: to be done with renovations, finally, and to deal with my teaching practice asap so I can go back to writing yrdcyhvgb

I won’t be tagging anyone for this, but it was still fun to do so if anyone wants to as well, feel yourself tagged!

tagged by @louciferish, and twice by @gabzjones omg gabz thank you ilu and I’m sorry I’m such a flake trfxcvujbkn /)u(\

7 Sentences

The rules are as follows: go to page 7 of your WIP, go to the 7th line, share 7 sentences, and tag 7 more writer-bloggers to continue the challenge.

Slowly, as if all his motion settings have been reset, Yuuri turns around. And Victor, the blessed man that he is, gives him a little polite smile that freezes Yuuri's brain and sets his heart on fire all in the span of one second.

Fuck, Yuuri thinks to himself again. Oh fuck.

"Hello," Victor says, a perfect smile on his perfect face that sits on his perfect head on his perfect neck on his perfect shoulders and his perfect chest and his–

"Hi," Phichit replies, a smile on his own face, too. "It's amazing to meet you. We're both big fans, but I guess everyone tells you that."

bc I’ve done nothing but write my victuri bang fic for about a month now, that’s what this is from! look forward to it in october ;3

I’ll tag the writers my mind instantly thought of, so @dreaming-fireflies, @belovedyuuri, @teekettle, @the-world-of-illyas-james, @kazul9, @stammiviktor, and @iwritebetterthanispeak!

tagged by @the-world-of-illyas-james, thank you!!

Ao3 Tag Game 

WHAT IS YOUR TOTAL WORD COUNT ON AO3?

920344, which tbh I’m sure will go up after I post this bang fic I’m working on so??? kinda excited to hit 1mil ngl 

HOW OFTEN DO YOU WRITE?

I definitely try to write every day but sometimes life gets too busy so I usually keep it to short headcanons and plot bunnies then but I will definitely get at least one to two sentences out there daily ^u^)b

DO YOU HAVE A ROUTINE FOR WRITING?

sure do! I love setting up a scented candle to get the mood going, turn on some music or ambience and pop open an energy drink while I keep some sweets on hand to get my sugar levels up high. it works perfectly for me!

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE KINKS/TROPES/PAIRING?

Kinks: oh boy... I’m very into soft and sensual, but hard voyeuristic frick frack involving fluffy tail buttplugs and pet play? count me tf in ;3c Tropes: soulmates, rivals, enemies to lovers, creature fic, hanahaki, Pairings: victuuri, the one and only 🙏

DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE FIC OF YOURS?

it’s definitely dazzle me with gold! but since it’s my fic with most kudos, I will talk about my second fav here, which is oh ye of so little faith, a miyusawa fic that I wrote for a bang once upon a time and which I put my very heart and soul into, and love to pieces even tho it’s been years

YOUR FIC WITH THE MOST KUDOS?

dazzle me with gold, my magnum opus, which I couldn’t be more proud of bc it’s all I love in a fic: historical setting, drama, werewolves, mystery and so much love it’s sickening ❤️

ANYTHING YOU DON’T LIKE ABOUT YOUR WRITING?

not really? tho recently I hate that I can’t seem to write short things anymore 😂😂😂

NOW SOMETHING YOU DO LIKE (ABOUT YOUR WRITING)?

I think I’m fairly good at grasping the characters I’m writing, and I know for sure that my soft/sweet/floof levels are running VERY high, so I’m definitely proud of that!

I’ll tag @gabzjones, @louciferish, @saniika, @postingpebbles, @muttthecowcatridesagain, @yuliaplisetskaya, and @joeys-piano! 😘

tagged by @teekettle, thank you tati! ❤️

Favorite Character Tag Game 

Rules: name your top 10 favorite characters from 10 different fandoms and then tag 10 people.

victor nikiforov

miyuki kazuya

hinata shouyou

aomine daiki

giotto

voldemort

hakuryuu

uzumaki naruto (and his daddy bc I’m baking two pies in one oven and I need my best hubby here FOR REASONS)

portgas d. ace

grimmjow jaggerjack

wow this got me so nostalgic for my lovely boys ❤️ I’m going to send @story-kat, @tetsya, @littorella, @accioharo, and @hentipie down the memory lane next, have fun~ 😘

hooo boy this was a lot to get through but it was fun! thanks again to everyone who tagged me, you guys rock and I’m a dick for procrastinating on this so hard I’m sowwie  (╥﹏╥)  I’m blessed to have such lovely friends like you, so once again: thank you for remembering about me (≧◡≦) ❤️

#tag game #I am a loser who can't do tags unless I have a whole 20 bookmarks of them and The Guilt kicks in #ryxchujhvbn #thank you for still tagging me tho #you guys are a blessing #❤️❤️❤️

[erraticrandomficwriter]

Plot Bunny Challenge Complete!!!

Complete List Below

A - Almost Human

B - Boy Meets World

C - Charmed

D - Doctor Who

E - Empire

F - Firefly Lane

G - Gargoyles

H - Hemlock Grove

I - The Incredibles

J - Jurassic World

K - Kyle XY

L - Life Unexpected

M - Motherland: Fort Salem

N - NCIS: Los Angeles

O - Once Upon a Time

P - The Purge

Q - Queen of the Damned

R - Riverdale

S - Supernatural

T - This Is Us

U - UnReal

V - The Vampire Diaries

W - Wandavision

X - X-Men

Y - You've Got Mail

Z - Zoey's Extraordinary Playlist

#plot bunnies are attacking again #plot bunny challenge