#handsome man with a scar i mean it just ADDS TO THE CHARM | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clairecrive · 3 years

Note

can u make a nikolai x reader based on the song mr perfectly fine by taylor swift?

Mr Perfectly fine

A/n: Ahh, thank to you friend, I've been jamming to this song every day lmao Hope I've done it justice x Also, I've left out some parts of the lyrics to make it better fit the story.

(if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist here)

for my other masterlists, you can find them on my navigation page

Word count: more than 7K (ikik it took a life of his own, what can I say)

Warnings: bit of fluff, angst (like a lot), character's death, spoiler if you haven't read Siege and Storm

Tagging: @jupiterandbutterflies (Thank you so much for your comment! I saw it and it made my day✨)

(I don't remember where I took this from so if you know pls lmk)

Most people knew of Nikolai Lanstov. He was a prince, the second born and the most charming. Most people knew him thanks to the countless rumours that went around at court: supposedly he was not of royal blood. "Sobachka" was what they called him.

No matter how though, everyone knew of the last Lanstov prince. But very little knew him.

Meeting him wasn't difficult. Since he had been of age, Nikolai had always been out of the Grand Palace and among people. He’d also volunteered to enlist in the first army, refusing any kind of special treatment and fought beside his brothers in arms in the infantry. That was part of the reason why everyone outside the court loved him so much.

Being Grisha meant that fighting in the Second Army was mandatory. Not that you minded. There was nothing you wanted more for your people than to finally be free. Also, that Shadow Fold needed to go and as the Darkling has always said, all efforts are necessary.

That’s how you met Nikolai the first time. Generally, the First and the Second Army were stationed in different parts of the campsite. Numerous quarrels between oprichniki and Grisha had rendered the separation necessary. However, you never liked crowds much and living in the Little Palace meant that you were always surrounded by people. So, every chance you had to draw away and be by yourself for a while, you took it. Also, being a Healer meant that you’d spent more time in your assigned tent taking care of soldiers than among them.

Word had gone around that everyone in need could come to you. Usually, you had been instructed by the Darkling that your powers were reserved for Grisha. However, what good was it to have the ability to cure people and only take care of a selected few that very rarely got seriously injured? Meanwhile, soldiers of the First Army often suffered from severe injuries, fatal gunshots or knife wounds. You could help them and possibly save their lives so why shouldn’t you?

That was why Nikolai found you one night. Sure at that point it was just another nameless soldier to you. He had never been in your tent before so you had never seen his face before. The boy whose arm he had draped on his shoulders though, was a usual visitor of yours.

“Oh, Petyr, what happened this time?” gesturing to his blond friend to lay him down on the table, you started gathering everything you needed. Not that you needed much but you had found out that Petyr was absolutely incapable of bearing having his bones or injuries in general repaired without having some kind of pain reliever before.

After a few tries, you came up with a herbal composition that dulled the pain but didn’t make him unconscious. Using kvas would mean that Petyr would be knocked out for a couple of hours. That would put him in trouble with his superiors.

“He’s a fool, that’s what happened.” The explanation came from his friend after he put him down gently. Despite his words, you could hear in his tone worry and guilt?

“If saving your life makes me a fool then go ahead and call me one,” Petyr huffed in pain.

“Who knew you were so brave, uh?” After quickly shredding the herbs you needed, you poured hot water on it and brought the cup to Petyr’s lips while helping him keep his head up.

“He’s the bravest of us all,”

“If I knew it took a bullet wound to make you hand out compliments so easily, I would have done it sooner.” Scoffed Petyr after sending you a thankful look.

“See? What did I tell you? A fool,” his friend said dramatically and you smiled amused at their playful banter.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with, shall we?” You said out loud to warn both Petyr and his friend. Letting them know what was about to happen was best, your experience taught you. Both for the person on the table that could brace themselves for what was about to happen and for the person with him that was filled with worry and cautiousness. Oprichniki didn’t trust Grisha that much.

After assessing the damage, you let out a relieved sigh as the bullet had gotten through and it had not hit any major artery. It had already got infected though, so you knew it would be a painful one to treat.

“So, did you receive any letters lately, Pety?” You ask, suggestively wiggling your eyebrows while your hands cover the wound. You had your eyes closed to better focus but you were sure that he had rolled his eyes.

“Only from my mum.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t write her back,” you said, opening your eye just in time to send him a glare.

“Ugh, not this again, y/n, please. Have mercy on me, I’m bleeding all over the table.” Petyr moaned making his friend snicker.

“You’re not bleeding all over the table and if you didn’t notice, I’m already taking care of you, am I not? That doesn’t excuse you for being an idiot, though.”

“Are you two in cahoots or something? It’s not fair. Wounded man over here.”

“Oh shut up.” Both you and his blond friend said at the same time. Petyr moaned once again and you sent a little amused smile to the blondie.

“Should I leave you with a cool battle scar? Maybe acting like a war hero will give you the balls to write to her.” You harmlessly threatened him but your hands were already reconnecting the tissue of his skin without letting it scar.

“I’ve told you, y/n. She deserves better than what I can give her. I am, who knows if I even make it home? I’d be only stringing her along.” Now Petyr was dead serious. It was true, you had talked about this often since he was a regular you got to know him better and he had soon told you about his sweet Katia.

While his friend chanted “fool” like a mantra in the background, you took his bloodied hand in yours, his wound fully healed.

“Petyr, how do you think she’s gonna react when she learns that there hasn’t been any delay to her letters but you’re just ignoring her? Besides, you should let her make this decision too. Who knows, she’ll surprise you.” Squeezing his hand you turned to let your words settle and to put away your utensils. You knew you had given him so much food for thought so you didn’t address the subject anymore. His friend helped him off the table and that’s when you noticed that he was injured too. He had a pretty nasty cut on his lower lip and there was already a bruise forming on his temple.

“Petyr, you can sit on my chair while I take care of your friend. You should be fine but for at least a while don’t stress your body.”

Mentally making a list of the things you need to tend to this kind of wound and where you kept them, you started collecting before heading back to them.

Petyr had sat down but his friend was still standing.

“You don’t have to lie down if you don’t want to, but unless you don’t want me to go take a ladder or something, it would be best if you sat on the table.” You gave him your best reassuring smile as you mixed the healing paste. Sometimes, men didn’t like to put themselves in a vulnerable position with someone they didn’t know and had learned to fear. He wasn’t that badly hurt and it would only take a couple of seconds to fix but not every oprichniki was comfortable with being healed by Grisha power. So the paste would do your job for you. It would take longer, sure and it would also sting a lot more but at least he’d be healed at last.

After looking at you for a little while, the blond man did as you instructed, giving you a dazzling smile in return when you settled between his legs to fix his cut.

“The name is Nikolai or handsome if you prefer.” It was not the first time a wounded soldier tried to flirt with you. IT didn’t bother you, you found them amusing more than anything and you knew it was the allure of someone taking care of them speaking more than any real interest.

“Let’s hope you won’t be around here much for me to learn your name.”

“I’ll have to find another way to make myself unforgettable then.” He winked at you before hopping off the table.

You didn’t address his words, only gave them the paste you had prepared. It would prevent any wound from being infected and would be able to cure small cuts and bruises if applied for a couple of days. With that, you sent them both on their way. Petyr waving you goodbye while Nikolai sent you another wink.

And so this was how it all started.

Mr. "Perfect face"

Mr. "Here to stay"

Mr. "Looked me in the eye and told me you would never go away"

Everything was right

Despite your fellow Grisha, military life could be a bit alienating. Which sounded like a paradox, sure, but everyone had their own way of processing trauma and emotions and of course there were plenty of those during the war. If the best way to come to terms with everything that happened was to distance yourself from others and try to find the solution in solitude, it could get to the point where you’d feel alone in a room full of people.

To get a little respite, you’d usually go on a long walk or resort to stargaze. Sometimes, depending on where you were posted, it wasn’t safe to leave the campsite. So, that’s how Nikolai found you one night. Even he had to take a breather once in a while. Being a different version of yourself based on who you’re interlocutor was must be exhausting. Of course, you didn’t know this. You knew nothing about Nikolai at that point if not that he was Petyr’s friend and a socialite, according to other soldiers.

He seemed to be at the centre of gossip no matter what group of people you found yourself with and there also seemed to be a consensus about him. Everyone liked him. Even if it was rare for some Grisha to appreciate oprichniki, you knew they somewhat respected him because if they didn’t praise him out loud, they didn’t speak ill of him either.

“Not a fan of crowds, are you?” he announced his presence before sitting down beside you.

“I love them, I really do. It’s just that sometimes it gets too much.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel.”

“You do? Everyone seems to think you’re a socialite.”

“It’s what I want them to think but alas, I enjoy being more complex and multifaceted than that.” He lightly bumped your shoulder with his, eyes aflame with mischief.

“I bet.” you simply smirked. Despite how everyone seemed to think they knew him, you got the peculiar vibe from him, like there was a lot more to him than what he let everyone see.

“No one seems to know much about you.”

“Maybe you’ve talked to the wrong people.”

“Well, then I guess it’s better if I got straight to the source, don’t you think?”

“That will surely be a better start. Not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for though.”

“We’ll see.”

That night had been the first of many. It had become a sort of an unspoken arrangement between the two of you. While it didn’t last long, you sensed that you got to know him better than everyone. There was something about late nights meetings under the stars that prompted deep and meaningful conversations. It wasn’t hard to form a solid bond with him after a few nights.

The conversations weren’t always personal in the conventional sense. You’d often stray and talk about the most bizarre things. Like why something had the name it had or how cool it’d be if it was possible to pass through surfaces, which led to imagine all the uncomfortable situations one could find themselves in if they were to simply go into a room through its wall.

Nikolai was witty, overly confident and ambitious and he knew a lot of things. You always wondered how he had learned them since he was so young and been in the army for a couple of years already. But Nikolai was never too forward on certain topics, his family and childhood being some of those. You understood, those were sore subjects for you too. So you never insisted. It was much more interesting to listen to him rumble about impossible future projects of his, like a flying ship.

"When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable." He’d say whenever you’d point it out to him. Somehow, despite the absolute absurdity of them, the sheer confidence that he seemed to constantly exude, made you consider the possibility of his success.

You got the distinct feeling that there was nothing this man couldn’t do.

But that was when I got to know Mr. "Change of heart"

Mr. "Leaves me all alone," I fall apart

It takes everything in me just to get up each day

But it's wonderful to see that you're okay

But, alas, as all things do, these encounters of yours also got to an end. You knew it would happen, you were both soldiers so your lives were both heavily characterised by uncertainty after all. However, you were not prepared for it to end so abruptly though. And without an apparent reason. Because Nikolai’s unit hadn’t been posted elsewhere and he hadn’t been fatally wounded. You would have heard of it were that the case. But it wasn’t.

You thought that he had come to cherish your nightly encounters too. Some of those had been full of his promises. How he’d love for you to be around when he’d eventually find the time to work on his ideas. How you had been a nice surprise, a most interesting person among so many dull idiots you were surrounded by every day. How he’d come to value your opinions and presence in his life and that he was going to find a way to make sure that that would never change. Promises that turned to be empty.

You had never allowed yourself to fully believe him. It wasn’t the first time that a boy had made the same kind of promises but Nikolai looked sincere. Honest enough to be believable. But, of course, you had been wrong.

You didn’t realise just how much you had come to rely on him until he was gone. You tried to keep your mind off him and luckily the perfect distraction came your way. The Darkling had scheduled an attack on the enemy’s army and had posted you to be on the field to take care of everyone promptly. You had never been more grateful to the man, even after he had given her a home and a purpose.

Ever since your first encounter with Nikolai, you had thought it had been a blessing. However, you had soon changed your mind and now considered a curse more than anything. Why? Because as soon as you got to the field you couldn’t help but scour the troops for a familiar mop of blond hair. Many looked like him and being this far you couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t one of them but you certainly despised the leap your heart made every time though. That was a distraction you couldn’t afford. Besides, it wasn’t smart to let your heart get involved in times of war.

The battle began, Inferni and Squallers were working together to impair the enemy’s visual so they couldn’t shoot or use their cannons while the First Army marched after them to swap in as soon as the air cleared to catch the enemy by surprise. While your role wasn’t active per se, you were a Corporalki after all, and even if you had been specifically trained as Healer, you had also got one of your friends to teach you the basics of an Heartrender’s work. You weren’t a powerful one but you could hold your ground in a fight. Especially since they weren’t expecting you. And you were still far from any real threat.

The battle dragged on and soon there were wounded soldiers that needed your attention. You hated this kind of work, it was messy and dirty and had to be quick because spending too much time on one soldier could mean dooming another to death. You were accustomed to it by now and soon found a rhythm focusing on ensuring everyone’s survival and not bothering with the aesthetic side of healing. That could be taken care of later if they wanted to.

As soon as your eyes fell onto a crouched figure you sprinted towards them. It was dirty and you didn’t recognize them but you got the feeling it was a life or death situation. Oh, how you wanted to be wrong.

The person crouching turned out to be Nikolai and he wasn’t alone. He was kneeling beside someone, Petyr.

“Where are you hurt?” you hurriedly asked as you tried to assess the damage. His uniform was dirty and full of blood but you couldn’t figure out where it was coming from. Trying to answer you, Petyr opened his mouth only to let out the most gruesome gurgling sound as his respiratory tract was flooded by blood.

“He got shot in the gut.” Nikolai offered.

“Is the bullet still inside?” Opening his uniform jacket you tore a piece from his shirt to use it to put pressure on the wound.

“It’s too late,” Nikolai uttered.

“No.” You strongly refused as you removed the cloth and focused on the wound. His heart was straightening and he had already lost a lot of blood. If the bullet was still inside that it was going to be a problem, if it wasn’t then you still had a fighting chance.

“I removed it earlier.” So that was why he had lost so much blood. Nodding your head to show that you had heard him, you set out to stop the internal bleeding. Slowing his heartbeat so that it was pumping less blood and thus eased your endeavour. You were still in the middle of the field and while you were keeping up with the warfare but in the back of your mind, you registered the sounds of screaming and of gunshots getting closer. A bullet hit you in the shoulder propelling you forward over Petyr’s body. Grisha’s kefta were bulletproof so you weren’t worried for your incolumity but for the harsh movement you had made.

Leaning back, you heard Nikolai calling for you but your eyes were trained on Petyr. You tried to listen for his heartbeat but could only hear two instead of three. Nikolai, who had never left your side, immediately understood what had happened by the fall of your shoulders and the tensing of your hands.

He kept calling for you but the only thing you could focus on was that you had let your friend down. Now there will be one more family crying for a loss, another girl mourning a lost loved one. And it was all your fault. It was because of you that Petyr wouldn’t live to see another day, to write another letter or to fight another battle. It was on you.

The details of what happened next were a bit blurred. Someway you must have found your way back to the campsite. Whether you did on your own after tending to everyone else, you didn’t know. Your memories picked up after you woke up in your tent. Someone was calling your name, saying that the Darkling wanted to see you.

Mechanically you raised and made your way to the Darkling’s tent but your mind was elsewhere. Your thoughts were plagued by Petyr’s face, by that godforsaken sound he made when he tried to speak. The realisation that he was gone hit you like a wall of brick that would have made you stumble if you weren't’ sat in front of the Darkling’s desk. Whether he was speaking and stopped after seeing the forlorn look in your eyes or he hadn’t been speaking at all, you didn’t realize. You did hear him say that you were going to be posted somewhere. Under different circumstances you have said something, anything to not let him send you away. Your mind immediately went to Nikolai. You’d be leaving him behind along with the campsite.

However, you now realised that you had already lost him. Losing Petyr had been the last thing that had completely severed your bond. There was no turning back now and part of you was grateful.

Hello Mr. "Perfectly fine"

How's your heart after breaking mine?

I've been Miss "Misery" since your goodbye

And you're Mr. "Perfectly fine"

You couldn’t know, of course, but Nikolai had left not long after you did. Albeit for a different reason. He had finally earned the Major rank and as such, he took a step back from military life deciding that his skill would be better suited for a life on the sea. Assuring Ravka the supply she needed but in ways that weren’t exactly suitable for a prince but worked just fine for a privateer. And thus Sturmhond came to life.

As for you, you kept doing your job at your new post but were relieved when a letter came from the Darkling instructing that you were needed at the Little Palace. Part of you had relegated Nikolai to that part of your mind where the unmentionable was, however, a traitor thought whispered that maybe there was a chance that you could see him at the royal grounds. Sure, the possibilities were close to zero but it was still possible, right?

No.

You already were ashamed of the fact that you’re still suffering because of him. And yes, you missed him but you weren’t going to indulge the pathetic hope of seeing him again.

He doesn’t want to see you. If he did, he would have already found you. Or write you a letter if he couldn’t, but he didn’t.

You were right. You knew you were, nonetheless, the thought only brought you a bittersweet feeling.

You found the Little Palace just how you’d left it and yet it seemed changed in a way. The insane amount of work you found there waiting for you helped you drown the feeling that it was you that had changed.

Months passed this way, sometimes the Darkling would post you with him or outside the Little Palace. All in all, you’ve kept busy. When news of the little prince leaving the Palace reached you, you let it wash over you. It wasn’t like it mattered much, whether he was a few feet away or in another nation, Nikolai wasn’t part of your life either way.

When the whole expansion of the Fold happened, you were stationed at the Little Palace. Chaos and terror ensued as soon as the news reached the capital making most of the Grisha flee. Most of them went looking for the Darkling while others simply ran away and hid. You were amongst the first group.

Soon, your life was radically changed. The shift in the Darkling was palpable and it didn’t have anything to do with the scars on his face. You had tried your best to heal them and Genya to tailor them away but somehow, they could not be removed. It was an unsettling thing to realize that they didn’t take away his beauty. One could even say that they enhanced his attractiveness.

He was certainly more powerful. None of you knew what had happened in the Fold that day, just that the Sun Summoner had fled and that there were no survivors apart from him. However, as your journey in pursuit of Alina dragged on, you were soon witnesses of his newfound power.

The nichevo’ya, he called them.

He had always been immensely powerful. One of a kind. But this- this was different. And as dread settled among your group as you watched them in action, realisation sat heavily on your shoulders.

He soon found a trail and traced Alina in Novyi Zem and set out to reach the island by hiring Sturmhond’s crew. He was a famous pirate after all and despite his unreliability, the Darkling was sure that as long as he got his money, he wouldn't be a problem.

In the round trip, you didn’t see much of the captain anyway. Some members of his crew were amiable enough, particularly the Yul-Baatar twins. You had even asked Tamar to spar with you from time to time. Your lessons with Botnik were a distant memory and you knew that mastering combat training skills could increase your chance at survival.

When Alina and Mal were held captive though, that’s when Sturmhond made an appearance. He looked younger than you’d thought and there was something oddly familiar in the way he held himself. Still, you didn't talk with him much. Your job was to take care of Alina and so you spent most of your time in her room.

It wasn’t until the Darkling asked Mal to track Rusalye and consequently spent more time with Alina that you had a chance to talk with him. It was during one of your night shifts when he approached you, the Darkling had wanted some of his to always be patrolling the ship.

“What could possibly make a little thing like you be amidst this wretched company?”

“It’s all a matter of perspective, I guess.”

“The thrill of adventure?”

“There’s plenty of it everywhere you go if you’re Grisha, even if you just go on a stroll.”

“Is that why you follow him?”

“I owe everything to him.”

“I’m sure you realize your role in this.”

“Of course I do. I’m not some naive girl who has a crush on her general.”

“Ah, so who, pray tell, do you have a crush on then, beautiful lady?”

“You’re certainly noisy for a pirate.”

“Privateer,” he corrected you, “there’s not much to do around here is it?”

“Not if you have everyone taking care of it, no.”

“Amuse me.”

“It isn’t wise to let the heart get involved in times of war.” That was all you were willing to share. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, the twinkle in his eyes was oddly familiar but he was a stranger. A dangerous one.

“Those sound like words spoken from experience.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’d say it’s no fun to only think about war. Life is so much more.”

“Believe me, if I could, it’d be the last thing on my mind. But, alas, l don’t have the privilege to do so.”

You had already lost too much time speaking with him. If someone were to see you or tell the Darkling you’d be in trouble. And you had made it your goal to never put yourself on the path of the Darkling’s anger. So you excused yourself and went back to your rounds.

If only you had stayed and talked to him more maybe you would have understood what was about to happen. Maybe you would have had an enkindling of Sturmhond’s plans. Instead, you were taken by surprise, just like everyone in your group, when Rusalye was spot and a shot was fired. You had found yourself in the uncomfortable position of having to fight against people you had grown to like.

“I don’t want to hurt you, y/n,” Tamar warned you as you stood face to face on the sinking ship dock. Her trusted axes in her hands while your hands were raised ready to attack.

“I don’t want to hurt you either.”

“Then you don’t have to. Come with us.” Her proposition made you gasp.

“That would be treason,” you whispered hoping that the Darkling wasn’t around to hear you. A shiver ran through you as you thought of the punishment he’d give you for even thinking about leaving his side.

“Then you leave me no choice.” She said lowering her arms. Was that guilt you heard in her voice?

Before you could voice your question though, she shouted for her brother and not even a second later, you felt your body grow still. Your eyebrows faltered as you felt your heartbeat slow down.

They were Grisha.

They must have seen you realise because you heard Tamar apologize before everything went black.

Mr. "Never told me why"

He goes about his day

Forgets he ever even heard my name

Well, I thought you might be different than the rest, I guess you're all the same

You didn’t stay out for long though. As soon as Sturmhond’s crew had left the Darkling’s ship and had safely made it onto the Volkvolny, the privateer had asked for you to be awakened.

There wasn’t enough light for you to realize you were on another ship, what alerted you of your new situation were your hands. They had bound them behind your back. Immediately you started to struggle, hoping to wiggle out of the restraints. To no avail though. Huffing out in frustration, you settled for looking around you and see if there was something you could use. That’s when you noticed him.

“Release me- this instant, or else-”

“Or what? You’re a Healer. Not exactly a violent job, is it?” Sturmhond interrupted you, a smirk on his face since he had the upper hand.

“I don’t need my powers to kick you in the ass, do I?” He laughed but didn’t look remotely threatened. Rather amused, actually.

“Please, you have to let me go. He’ll kill me if-” Panic started to build as you realized that there was no way you could successfully escape.

“He won’t touch you.” A solemn glow took over his eyes. “He won’t ever hurt you again, you have my word.” He promised, looking subtly at your left shoulder. You winced as you realized that he must have seen your scars. The ones left by the Darkling’s niche’voya.

“How can I know if you’re trustworthy? You don’t exactly have a good score, you know?”

“You’re going to find out soon enough. Don’t worry.”

Of course, he didn’t bother offering further explanations. He’d left it at that. You weren’t a captive per se but he left your hands bound, only freeing them when you needed to eat or relieve yourself.

Fruitless were your efforts in making you tell more. He often ate with you and would check in at least twice a day but that was it.

It wasn’t until after you had landed after that forsaken vehicle of his had gotten you through the Fold that you understood. His coming out as Nikolai Lanstov, prince and second in line for the Ravkan throne, had shaken you all to your core. However, you doubted that it had sent a pang to the others’ hearts as it did with yours.

Nikolai Lantsov. The man you had been dreaming about, the one that had left you behind without any sort of explanations, the one you missed so dearly, had been by your side all this time.

You weren’t sure how you felt. It made sense now why his eyes looked familiar and his posture. You then connected that the vehicle you had used in the Fold had been one of the many projects he used to geek about with you. It tasted a lot like betrayal. Not because he had lied to you about his name but because he had tried to get close to you again and had managed to somehow break that growing bond again.

'Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl

I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her

So dignified in your well-pressed suit

So strategized, all the eyes on you

Oh, he's so smug, Mr. "Always wins"

So far above me in every sense

So far above feeling anything

Even if his secret had been outed thus causing some shift in the dynamics between Nikolai and the two new members of his crew - you suspected Mal was closer to punching him every second that passed- not much had changed for you.

On the outside, you pretty much looked like a prisoner. Albeit a very clean one. You rode with them, hands still bound, scowl ever-present on your face.

Nikolai had not come to see you ever since that night after the Fold. And now it had been almost a week since you had started your journey back to the capital. Whether this was all part of his plan to make you look the part of the captive even more or he was just gutless, you didn't know. It was working either way though.

You liked to think that his reason was simply that he didn't care. He had far too much on his plate right now as it was. Going back to court after years of absence while also making claims to the throne and trying to sway the Sun Summoner your way. It was no easy feat. But hadn't he always liked to say that impossible often meant improbable? A lot of things had changed since that night but even so, you'd still pose your bet on him that he'd be able to achieve anything he set his mind to.

It wasn't exactly that thinking this way brought you actual comfort. Of course, not. But it was better than foolishly hoping for him to still care about you the way you did for him. After all, he had sent plenty of signals that pointed in the other direction.

But then why did he kidnap you? Why take you with him? You weren't that close to the Darkling to be of any use to Nikolai in that way. And, as a matter of fact, no one had come to interrogate you regarding his plans or whereabouts. Then why?

You still couldn't figure it out.

Some days your anger shifted more to frustration and you were ounces away from asking for him yourself. Almost as if he had heard you though, he gave you the final push.

It was the usual day, Nikolai and Alina were riding in the carriage, stopping in every village we passed to meet with the locals. However, this time, before climbing back into the carriage, they kissed.

You were too far to figure out who started it and the details. The gist of it was enough though.

You most certainly were a fool. Still thinking about a guy who didn't give two shits about you, who had kidnapped you putting you in a dangerous situation and you were still wondering whether he felt something for you or not? Pathetic.

You had to do something about your situation and quickly too. Officially, you were a traitor. You had fled and joined the Darkling, that wouldn't make you look good in front of the king. He was a lousy bastard anyway and will probably sentence you to death to set an example. You hadn't survived so much shit to end up at the end of a rope.

So, even though you had initially thought against it since you were so close to home, you decided to escape. You were already headed towards certain death so what was the worst that could happen?

Your hands were left unbound when you were in your tent. One less problem to solve. Closing your eyes, you focused on listening for any nearby heartbeats. You heard two, those of the guards posted outside your tent. Maybe you could find an excuse to call them inside, put them to sleep and then slip away.

That was not exactly what your powers were for but you were desperate. You had to at least try.

And so you did. You called them in and immediately set out to slow their heartbeats. You had almost succeeded in putting them under when someone else slipped in. The last person you wanted to see.

"Am I that bad of a host?"

You didn't meet his ruse though, you knew it would make you lose focus.

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to release my soldiers." As soon as he said it though, they fell unconscious at last. Your chest was heaving by now, using so much power in such a different way was costing you. But you couldn't back down now. It was one on one and you were Grisha and a woman scorned. He stood no chance.

"Move out of my way, your highness."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

"You can or I can make you. Your choice." The venom in your voice was unmistakable and it took him by surprise. He gave you a curious look tilting his head to the side like he was seeing you for the first time over again.

"I didn't realize ruthlessness was one of your personality traits."

"You know nothing about me," you seethed. The tip of your fingers flexed, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and you were already weary.

"It may have been a while y/n, but I like to think I know a good deal about you."

"And I would like to completely erase this last year but you don't hear me yap about how shitty it has been, do you?"

"You never did like opening up much."

"I'm well past the point of sentimentalism, Nikolai. It is coming far too late anyway. And whatever my feelings for you may be, I won't let you put my life on the line." Your posture straightened, stance ready for battle.

His eyes flashed, jaw clenched. His hands closed in fists and he almost looked hurt. But why would he?

"Is that what you think all of this is?" Nikolai always acted aloof. He was always composed and dignified. You had thought it was for his insane amount of self-confidence but now you understood it was for how he was raised. But you recognised the pout on his lips. It was the expression he’d always have whenever he tried to get something from getting to him. To prevent himself from showing emotions.

"You're holding me captive while you go around Ravka parading your latest conquest, flashing your return everywhere. I don't know why you're doing this but I don't care. I've stopped waiting around for you and I certainly won't let your father put me to death."

"You think I'd let him?"

"So you want to do this?" you threw your hands up in exasperation, "Fine. You really want to know what I think?"

"Be my guest."

"I think that the Nikolai I knew would have left out of the blue without so much as a letter. I think that the Nikolai I knew was ready to go to any length to achieve what he believed in. However, I thought that the Nikolai I knew cared about me and what we had but look at me now. So maybe, I know nothing at all."

"You certainly do seem to know a lot of things. But you’re not wrong."

"If this is the way you care about me," I gesture to my tent, "then I'm not sure I want this Nikolai to care for me."

“This,” he said, emulating your gesture, “is to keep you safe. This is my way to ensure that if the Darkling got news of your whereabouts, he’d be sure not to think you willingly left his side and betrayed him.”

“That’s because I didn’t!” You raised your voice in outrage. The nerve of this man.

“Spare me your indignation. I know you hate being at his beck and call, to do his dirty work and be constantly surrounded by warfare.”

“Do not presume to speak for me.” You snapped. You knew it was best to keep a cool head but his cockiness was getting on your nerves.

“Didn’t you? Hate it, I mean.”

“We’re at war, Nikolai. Being away or close to the Darkling won’t change that. At least with him, I was safe.”

“You can’t be that delusional to think that he was protecting you.” He scoffed at your words as if they were the most absurd thing he had ever heard.

“And you can’t be that delusional to think that bringing me back won’t result in your father killing me.” You fired back shifting on your feet. He winced as if you had physically hurt him.

“You have so little faith in me?” His voice was just above a whisper and you knew that your words had struck a chord.

“How can I have any, Nikolai?” your voice softened a bit. “One day you’re telling me how much you value my opinion, you promise me a future where I’d be the first to see your project come to life and then you left. You just left, Nikolai.” And when I was starting to make my peace with it that’s when you come back? Also, let’s not forget about my abduction and your flirting with Alina.”

“So yes, I don’t trust you.” You concluded, crossing your arms on your chest with finality. He just stared at you for the longest time. If someone would come in now, they’d think you were in the middle of a staring contest. Then he sighed and started talking.

“I had to go away. I had already pushed my parents’ limits when I said I wanted to be part of the infantry. So, one day I got a letter written by my father personally and I knew that my time was up. I had been Nikolai for too long, now I had to start being a Lantsov prince.” His eyes were on the ground now, shame making her way in his words.

“So that’s what I did,” he went as he started pacing,”I went to Kerch to study, just like my father wanted. I did what he asked, he couldn’t reproach me anything now. I could never stay too still though, a life of adventure was calling me and I could not ignore it. It was only then that I realized that I could do so much more than sitting in a class, to realistically help Ravka.”

“I couldn’t take you with me. You had such a larger role to play in the army and besides, there wasn’t much I could offer you. So yes, I left. I left thinking that I would find my way back to you eventually.” He had stopped by now, regret was swirling in his shining orbs as he looked at you.

“You could have told me.” You contestated, taken back by all the information he gave you. “I would have waited for you.” A whispered promise for something that would never be now.

“I was afraid, y/n. That’s not my best moment, I know and no number of apologies could ever make it right. But I was afraid of your answer. I knew I’d be asking for a lot and let’s be honest-” the desperation in his tone was evident now, he had unconsciously started to lean towards you but you knew what he was about to say.

“You weren’t sure if the future you were offering me would just end up with me being your mistress, am I right?” Your tone hardened but despite the insulting implication of what you said, you weren’t made at him.

“I’m a prince, y/n. We do not marry for love and this country cannot afford to disregard the advantages that a political union could bring.”

His honesty was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He was right. As soon as you had learned he was a prince, you realized just what kind of future you could have with him. But then he left and that problem did not exist anymore. Neither of you spoke, both of you were seizing the other. You had laid it all out, defences were down putting you both in a vulnerable position.

And someday maybe you'll miss me

“You should have talked to me, Nikolai. We could have figured it out together. If it came to being your mistress to stay with you, then that was my decision to make.” You said softly after a while. It pained for you to say this, you would have never thought that getting closure would hurt this much.

Tears streamed on both of your faces, in front of you had been laid what your future could have looked like. It was everything you had wanted, you could still do your job and have the man of your dreams. You were surprised to find that you wouldn’t mind sharing him with his supposed wife. You had been at court for enough time to know how most marriages went. If he assured you it was only a diplomatic affair but that his heart was yours, that would have been enough. Who knows, maybe she’ll get a lover too.

But now… now you didn’t know if you could ignore everything that happened. You did not trust him nor could you ignore how hurt you were by his lack of communication and thus of trust in you.

But by then, you'll be Mr. "Too late"

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov imagines #nikolai lanstov one shot #nikolai lanstov fic #nikolai lanstov x you #nikolai lanstov x y/n #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lanstov angst #nikolai lanstov fluff #nikolai lanstov blurb

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achillesunly · 2 years

Text

Characters review on Strangers From Hell: PART 1

(spoilers)

Ah Hee Joong aka my hubby

Look at this beautiful man. Tired of all the shit happening in the residence yet hopefull ("I'll move out next week" yeah to the fourth floor). Still the one I trust the most out there. Reliable. Solid. Old fashioned and bad fashioned but that's just clothes right. A thug 🤪 lebecca play criminal by Britney Spears-. Deserves to open his business in Busan . Handy with knives. (We be gettin a type with jaeyi from BE). Capable. Look at his scar. Damn son. He's so so tired. I would nurse him to health. But not mental :/ imean he went through so much there's nothing to do here... I'd give him a pretty socket for his injured leg.

Hong Nam Bok aka Dora the Explorer

The man just cracks me up. Uncomfortable awkward but not stupid and it's a quality out there hey. I'm trying here ok? Just the way he stands in the halls 🧍the faces I can't. The man is garbage but he's just so fun. When he talks to his parole officer his smiley bhaah. His room blro. He's handy knives AND scissors. He could do a rad bullet journal and I'm here for it. He got potential. Still must die tho.

Bonus photo BC I want to:

I almost love him.

Eom Bok Soon aka twisty noona

Hum. Too pushy even before we learn she's madwoman. Blro don't force people to your residence jeez. As a person with social anxiety Ur pushing behaviour would have scared me right away and I wouldn't have got to live what Yoon lived which unacceptable. Plus you eat like a pig your human flesh I swear with the fingers and everything I just had that picture. And the eggs scarred me for life no cap tho im forever repulsed by eggs now. But the day I see one crack and there's blood I'll look for a tall dark handsome. Still a dipshit. And honestly? A tad bit of a bitch. Look at those crazy eyes. + If I had met MoonJo as a lill kid I would have raised him in health and love. Jugeo.

Byun Beuk Jong aka that one kid I know and it creeps me out the resemblance

I'm sorry he's just funny. He makes me laugh ok. Idk if that's a real illness he has like something that doesn't always lead to crazyness but still very creepy. I swear I just want to hit him in the face with a plastic toy and he'd laugh and I'd laugh. I would openly like him if he didn't kill animals. Which is a no-no and I'm happy you died but I hoped it would have been worse. Fuck you, too. And your brother I don't even want to talk about him. Great add to the uneasiness of the residence u play well kid.

Yoo Ki Hyuk aka beautiful man #1

I swear I thought that was him the second lead. He cute as fuck. Also, JB what are you doing here.

I mean...

I can't be the only one to see it. When he talks I swear you see it better. Yeah so he's beautiful pretty pretty. Gives off calm and charming energy. Honestly I want to see him in lead in another gay drama. He got the shapes for that. If he weren't busy stealin another man's personality and clothes then maybe he'd have the chance to live longer :/ he's so cute I'm not even jealous he had been called THE word by MoonJo before Yoon. I tend to get possessive for others. But he's just so cute. Yeah no possible. Plus he dies quick so...

Kang Seok Yoon aka the weird cutie

A ball of sunshine sure, but I didn't forget ur creepy demand for Yoon s charger when urs was working just fine. What were u trying to do and why was it so creepy if you only did that to have an excuse to talk to him? I mean I can understand the technique to make friends that's clever and honestly I would have done the same or just cried straight up. He's really a cutie but I like him better like that:

Blood suits you little one. Anyways your rap was way too suspicious and telltale so I'm uncomfortable. Yeah that's a pity you died I actually liked you if not for your dubious eyes. And you made MoonJo jealous which is very funny and I loved it. A bit too much gullible. So. Yeah :/

#strangers from hell #hell is other people #sfh meme #sfh #sfh memes #yoo kihyuk #ms um #the twins #but theres only one #seo moonjo #yoon jong woo #kang seokyoon

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Drink Up - Geralt of Rivia x reader

Summary: Traveling for hours on end can become exceptionally loathsome, but with a bottle of something strong to pass the time, things get very interesting indeed.

Warning: reader and Jaskier talking about sexy times, reader getting drunk and things get entertaining, the trio being goofs tbh

-reader is part of my Geralt series (Of Monsters And Men)

Masterlist

With not a whole lot of entertainment sprouting forth from the nearby scenery of the continent most days, or by the unfortunate lack of abundant random wanderers to cross your path. You’ve become accustomed to imploring very creative ways in amusing yourself while wayfaring the roads with your two favorite traveling buddies.

A Witcher, to handsome for his own good, and a lovely yet mildly annoying bard.

You’ve been currently hiking on this forest trail for half the day without much to pass the time. Sure Jaskier has delved into giving you all a show with his ballots and fantastic lute playing skills. But there’s only so much of that angelic voice you can take before it turns into the most goddamn irritating thing you’ve ever heard.

Also you’re pretty damn certain that Geralt could have been one more strum away from knocking the bard out cold, thus pleading for you to leave him there for the next unlucky fellow who decides to wander by.

The sun on the other hand keeps her great golden colors beaming across the landscape, warming the earth to a comfortable temperature on this calm spring afternoon. It’s been a good hour since anything interesting has happened and this stick you keep flipping around in your hand is not cutting it.

Pressing onward, your mind suddenly sparks with an idea, surly an idea that will stir up some much needed conversation on this rather dull trip though the peaceful woodland. Smirking to yourself, you glance to your right where Jaskier is walking with lute in hand, oblivious to your growing mischievousness.

Then your crimson gaze trails a small distance ahead where Geralt sits atop of Roach, his snowy head faced forward as he relishes in the quiet of the green woodland. Gods he looks like a proper knight, with that dark armor, sword on his back, and all that manliness seated atop his grand stead. Hmm, delicious.

Casually twirling your stick here and there, you turn your attention over to Jaskier who’s looking away from you, “Psst...Jaskier.” You whisper, making sure Geralt can’t hear.

The bards head snaps over to you in an instant, a new intrigued curiosity overtaking him, “Yes?” He whispers back just as quietly, blues darting over to Geralt who’s none the wiser.

You casually shrug, using your normal speaking voice now, “Just wanted to make sure you haven’t forgotten your name.”

His face falls, “Y/N.” He whines disappointedly, “Come on I’m bored as shit.” Complains Jaskier like a whiny little toddler before he huffs and pauses for a moment to think. Suddenly he taps the side of your bicep with the back of his hand, you raise a curious brow as he shrugs, “You got any good stories?”

Searching your extensive past of palpable events for a moment, your face quickly lights up, “Ohhh better then a story. Get a load of this shit.” You muse while pulling out a bottle of wine from your traveling pack, “Stole this from some pricy vendor. Figured it’d have some purpose sooner or later and right now I need it sooner.” You chuckle while popping off the spongy cork and taking a hearty swig.

Jaskier lets out a breathy laugh as he watches you fully enjoy your stolen beverage, “Not sure if I should be impressed or concerned.”

“Don’t worry I’ll share but only if you indulge me.” You quip before taking another gulp before bringing the bottle to your side, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before speaking, “I have a question for you my dear lover boy.” You inquire with a wiggle of your brows.

Jaskier smirks, ready for the challenge and some wine, “Ask away.”

Whipping your stick around, you point it at the bard, “Okay. And be honest, I can tell if you’re not.....what’s the best part of a woman?”

Jaskier nods, his face shifting into one of legitimate deep thought as he takes a considerable amount of time to contemplate the possibilities, “Well, I guess I’d say I’m decently fond of a good smile,” Admits the bard before he lets out a small chuckle, “cause if they don’t have one it’s regretfully difficult to watch them enjoy themselves if you understand my meaning.” Adds Jaskier, nudging your arm with his elbow as you roll your ruby irises.

“Hmm alright well you’re a fucking snooze.” You deadpan as he suddenly lets out a burst of laughter.

“Oh I didn’t realize you wanted all my inner most personal tastes, is that it then?” He wonders as you chuckle at his little half offended outburst.

“Tell me what gets you all hot and bothered and I’ll indulge you in my own appetites.” You add slyly, giving him a mischievous wink while continuing to twirl your stick and sip more of your strong liquor. Damn this stuff is strong.

He nods in understanding, a cheeky smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he decides to indulge you, “Well the lady asks, where to start?” Questions Jaskier.

“Oh I don’t know. Let’s say, personality aside cause we’re not here for that shit right now..” You swat the air theatrically before taking another sip of your drink, “...what do you think? Firm or soft, maybe even a little saggy?” You suggest, making a squeezing motion with your one hand while your stick is tucked underneath that arm.

“I’d say both. A breast is a breast.” He confirms Jaskier with a laugh.

“A man of all dishes served I see. I respect the inclusion of diverse variety.” You add with an honest nod of approval. “Alright. Are scars a turn off if severe?”

“Taverns are dark for a reason Y/N.” Muses Jaskier with a knowing look causing you to snort with laughter.

“Fair point.” You wheeze.

“Okay Y/N/N, my turn.” Inquires Jaskier as you hand him the liquor.

“Lets hear it.”

He gives you back your bottle, “So....what’s so intriguing about that old grumpy wolf up there?” Questions Jaskier as he nods towards Geralt who’s minding his sweet business from his perch on Roach. No doubt probably listening.

Biting your lip, your eyes linger on the broad leathered back of your silver haired lover, “Are we talking physically or personality wise?” You wonder while turning your attention back to the bard, your voice lowering a couple octaves, “cause let me tell you he’s not much for words most times...” You lean in closer to Jaskier before whispering, “but I can get him moaning so goddamn fast.”

“Oh gods. Please tell me everything.” Presses Jaskier with a laugh as you take another sip from the bottle. Shit, you’re already feeling buzzed, guess it is much stronger then once previously thought.

Giving Jaskier a fangy smirk, you point the stick in Geralt’s general direction, “You asked so you’ve been warned. This man can come absolutely undone within minutes, literally all I gotta do is call him some cute names and lick his cheek...you know, feel him up a bit. Get him feeling all loved and appreciated you know?”

“Really?” Inquires Jaskier, enjoying your progressively drunken shpeel of personal info regarding yours and Geralt’s sex lives.

“Oh fuck yeah, but what really gets him off, is if I undress in front of him and then get all dominant and rough you know. He loves that shit.” You explain with a smile as Jaskier stares at you in awe. “He’s a moaning mess after I put on the charm, practically cumming at my command. The fucking power I have.” You mumble proudly with a shake of your bottle, though you try and keep your voice down.

“Y/N, you are, quit the woman.” Points Jaskier like a proud father watching his daughter marry to a prestigious lord of great wealth.

“I know.” You add with a shrug, clearly self confident and half drunk by now, “I’m a seductress what can I say?” Taking a moment to drink some more wine as Jaskier holds in his laughter.

He watches you trip on nothing before regaining your bearings a second later, “So uh, how you feeling?”

You give him a fangy grin, raising your bottle in salute, “Fantastic.”

“That’s good.” He muses, clearly not believing you, “How’s the wine?”

“Delectable and worth every coin!” You whisper yell, raising your bottle once more, the dwindling contents swirl around, some drops falling out as you bring the glass back down to your side.

“I thought you stole it?”

You snort, “I did.”

“Hmm alright, maybe uh....maybe slow it down on the intake Y/N?” Says Jaskier, taking notice of your new inebriated state and knowing all to well what you’re like when fully drunk of your ass.

“Fuck off bard I’m fine.” You mutter with an elated snicker before starting to giggle like a drunken jester in a kings court, causing Geralt to turn his head to the side in interest before shrugging and looking down the trail once again.

“You sure?” Half worries Jaskier, though in truth he’s absolutely living for the situation unfolding in front of him, “I’d rather not have you puking later.”

Scoffing you take another sip, “I’m not getting sick Jaskrr, I’m just horny.”

Brows raised in surprise, he coughs, “Oh, that’s um...good....I think?”

Almost tripping over a jutted out root, you bite your lip while eyeing up Geralt hungrily, “Now that....is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen and you know what?”

“What should I know?” Wonders Jaskier with interest, making no faults to decrease how he’s clearly egging you on.

Grinning with a face full of mischief, you snicker, “Well....I can say I’ve seen his dick.” The bards eyes widen in amusement as you continue, “Which is...by the way....very lovely and large, he knows how to please a woman if you know what I mean.” You mumble quickly with a wink as Jaskier snorts.

“Oh, that’s good to know. What else is nice about him?” He agrees while successfully baiting you on further.

“Hmm mhmmm. Big muscles, Jask, big muscles.” You emphasize while leaning into the bards side and squeezing his less then impressive biceps, “Oh and he’s so good at hugging and cuddles.” You squeak with joy, shaking Jaskier as you swoon over Geralt, “Ugh, I love it when he’s shirtless and he looks at me and I just....ugh I’ll take my pants off so goddamn fast.”

Shoving his face into the crook of his arm to keep from laughing, Jaskier does all in his power to refrain from losing it while you lean away, stumbling around on the trail, oblivious to how hilarious he’s taking everything you just confessed to him. The biggest lovestruck grin dancing across your features as you stare longingly at Geralt’s leather clad back. A flash of lust rising in your smiling expression as you eye him up.

“I want.” You mutter, throwing your stick to the side as you make a childlike grabby motion with your hand.

“Y/N he’s on a horse.” Explains Jaskier as you make a face.

You scoff, sending Jaskier another dirty look, “You don’t understand.”

“Y/N it’s the middle of the day and we’re in an unknown forest.” Warns the bard, “Not exactly the time or place for whatever is brewing in your head.”

“Nuthin’s brwing in me head Jask.” You slur, tripping once again before just barely catching yourself.

Jaskier gives you a less then convinced expression, seeing straight though your terrible lying, “I don’t believe you.” He says while you frown.

“But he looks so delicious.” You whine with a dramatic pout, “And I’m so fecking horns right noww ‘cause of....wull, I just’am!” You grumble, turning your head to face Jaskier with an angry little frown before a mischievous smile begins to form upon your lips.

Jaskier blinks, knowing all to well what drunk you is capable of, “Y/N. Don’t you dare.” He warns.

“Waterr you gonna do bart?” You challenge, pushing him though its a weak assault that does nothing significant, “Fight me? I’ll kick your little pixie ass.”

Shaking his head, Jaskier takes a cautious step away from you, “Definitely not. Actually you know what? He’s all yours, go get him Y/N.” Urges Jaskier, really anticipating the possible beautiful disaster that may just soon enough present itself.

Raising your brows in pleasant surprise, you down the rest of your bottle, “Ha! Yu’r not as stupi’s ass’he says yur. I knews it. All along, nev’r a doubt in my mind really.....I sw’r it........promise.” You slur, the alcohols affects really starting to delve into your system.

Jaskier’s brows furrow in confusion, not one hundred percent sure how he should take that, “Well, that’s good I suppose.”

“Yes.........it is....... isn’t it.” You agree with a couple quick nods that look like a small child who’s trying desperately to get their parent to agree with them, “Okay, I’m go’in ta get h’em ov’tha house now.” You pause a moment, brows furrowing in thought as you grab Jaskier by the shoulder, “Horse. That’s uh, what I mean.....yeah.”

Jaskier opens his mouth to say something but you’re already stumbling quickly down the beaten trail much faster then he’d anticipated. You zero in on Geralt’s fine leather armored back, your vision slightly blurred and your legs a bit wobbly from the strong alcohol you’ve managed to make empty in less then ten minutes.

Shaking the fuzziness from your head, you drop the empty bottle in the dirt before hustling to Geralt’s side. Stopping quickly, halting a moment to gather yourself before walking onward, continuing side by side next to his feet and Roach’s middle.

Geralt hums before casually turning his head to find your beaming face with the dark of your eyes as big as a ceramic plate. Raising a brow, the Witcher throws Jaskier an odd look before shifting his attention back down to you.

“Y/N?” He mutters, not sure if you’ve eaten something you shouldn’t have or were recently hexed by some random fairy nearby.

Letting out a little burp, you hold your hands close to your chest all the while giving him the biggest smile, “I’m....in’loe....v..uh, love....with’u.”

Geralt let’s out a humored snort at your intoxicated self while you await his answer to your grand declaration of love that he was indeed able to understand, “Sorry, I’m taken.” He quips, obviously teasing you though you’re to drunk to realize this.

Frowning you look at the ground in disappointment, “oh.” You whisper sadly causing Geralt to legitimately feel bad until your whole demeanor shifts to heated aggression, “That fucking bitch!” You shout coherently through a small slurred wavering in your angered voice, scaring some perched crows from their keep as well as a couple of innocent rabbits.

Geralt listens to the muffled laughter of Jaskier as you throw your hands up in aspiration before letting out a colorful stream of curses, “No good dirty whore faced dog shit horse shit bitch who’s clamed h’em ferr the’own!”

“Do’snt mak’any sense! I have a sw’urd! I can run....really fast! I’m half vampurrr goddammit!” You shout into the woods, struggling to keep your words together, “I’m pre-destinated...pre-dun.....pre-dragons....destiny, de-destined to be seductive! I am sexy!” You shout dramatically.

“Okay, Y/N let’s not wake something or someone with ill intentions.” Interrupts Geralt as you make two frustrated fists, your face appearing rather angered, crimson eyes dancing with hellfire.

“No!” You snap before turning an accusing dagger up at him, where you got that he’s not sure, “Tell me..who’s this-this donkey wumunnn! So I can...grrr....so I can uh, so I can...” Quickly looking down, you struggle to put away your dagger back into it’s designated sheath, you frown once again before shifting your face into a fake, yet rather convincing smile, “I just’uv sum’thins to say to’er. Thas’all. Promise.” You add sweetly, grin as shiny as a barrel of shimmering pearls and honestly a bit sadistic if he didn’t know any better.

Chuckling at your adorable drunken antics, Geralt shrugs, “She’s from a far away land. About a couple leagues from here northwest.”

“Wha’else.” You demand urgently, tone authoritative and hostile.

“She’s pretty tough, and very beautiful.” Teases Geralt as you scowl in irritation for this unidentifiable cunt who’s taken your man.

“Disgustin.” You scoff, flicking a hand upward as you mutter, “Go’un.”

“She’s got the most lovely body I’ve ever seen, and her laugh is more angelic then all the greatest singers in the entire continent.” He confirms with a handsome smile that would have you swooning like a fair maiden if not for how filled with hatred you are right now.

“Blah.” You dismiss while sticking out your tongue in disgust, “Com’un giv’m a name. Then I’ll handle the’rst.”

“I don’t want you to hurt her.” He mutters with a shrug, holding back laughter at your amusing facial features.

“I won’t.” You sass, making a face before mumbling, “Jus’wanna talk....re’memr.”

“I don’t think I believe you Y/N.” Affirms the handsome Witcher much to your frustration.

“I jus’wanna fucking talk!” You growl as Jaskier cackles in the background, clearly enjoying this conversation though you can’t understand what’s so funny.

Snapping your head in his direction, you squint your eyes at him menacingly before yanking off a hanging thin branch and launching your new makeshift weapon full force in his general direction. He yelps in surprise before ducking, the wooden assault just missing his face by mere inches.

“Dear gods Y/N!” Gasps the bard with wide eyes as you snicker at his dramatic reaction.

“Fuck’ov h’was gonna tell me!”

“No he wasn’t!” Argues Jaskier while fearfully clutching his lute to his chest, afraid you might start swinging.

“H’was and I’m gonna fuck’n kill that bitch!” You snap angrily as Roach snorts, having not a single iota what the hell you’re saying. Only that you sound like some wounded beast on their last hour.

Rolling his baby blues in annoyance, Jaskier shouts back, “There is no other woman or man or any fucking forest nymph that Geralt has any sort of eyes for! You-you crazy woman!”

“How’u know? He doesn’t tell you shit!” You yell back, emphasizing the last word with some heat.

“He does! For your humbled information.” Protests Jaskier sassily while Geralt silently listens to you two idiots scream at one another in the middle of some large lumbering forest. His drunken lover and his, perhaps he could say it, friend who happens to be a bard.

“Oh really?!” You challenge, “Wel’in who’s this fuck’in cunt who’h said he’s with’en? Huh?!” You shout back.

Jaskier let’s out a stream of incomprehensible mumbles before throwing his hands into the air in frustration, “That’s because this woman is you, you drunken bat!”

“I’mnut drunk! Nor’m I a bat!” You yell, ignoring the fact that he confirmed you’re indeed Geralt’s lover, “I didn’evn drink tha’mush!”

“You drank the whole bloody bottle!” Claims Jaskier, much to your great shock and bewilderment, that Geralt struggles to keep himself from losing it atop of Roach.

You scoff, clearly not believing a single thing out of this bards mouth, “I dunt see’a bottle!”

“That’s because you threw it somewhere!”

“Wel’wy woulda’ do’tha?” You snap, hands fanned out to each side in puzzlement like an angry castle pigeon standing up to a hulking statue.

“Oh I don’t know...let me think for a brief moment here...oh right! Because you’ve drank more then a king on his wedding night!” Shouts Jaskier as Geralt rolls his golden eyes, moving to jump off of Roach.

Standing oblivious to your Witcher who’s no more then five feet away from you now at ground level, your eyes start to grow darker as your frustration grows in this hazy state you’re in. “Mayb’if I knuck you’ot wit’a lute then’ull shut up!” You slur, taking a threatening step forward.

The bards eyes widen in fear for a moment as he sends Geralt a desperate glance, “Geralt!”

“Y/N.” Mutters Geralt gently in that grumbly voice of his, causing you to immediately turn in his direction.

Eyes softening, you instantly break out into a joyful fangy grin, “Yes.” You mumble happily, eyes shifting from his boots to his face as you shamelessly check him out.

“Come here.” Beckons your beautiful Witcher with a pleasant smile upon his plush lips, his arms soon reach out for yours and quickly enough they intertwine.

You blink back your slightly blurred vision to witness as Geralt’s lips flicker from your mouth to your shimmering irises of ruby red, a second later he pulls you flush against him for a heated embrace. Just want you wanted.

Your lips move passionately against his own, a delighted smile forming as you enjoy the feeling of his tongue inside your mouth. Then all to soon he pulls away and your lips are left empty and wanting so much more.

Pouting you make an adorably angered face, “Wul’that wasn’t nearly s’long as it coulda been.” You grumble bluntly, suddenly yawning as you try desperately to keep focused on his face. His beautiful face. So pretty, so kissable, so lovely.

Dark spots skip and flare through your fading vision until without warning your legs feel like they’ve turned to pudding, giving out from underneath you in an instant and all you’re able to witness is Geralt’s lovely face before....

Darkness.

——

Waking up from a deep sleep, your eyes open to the sound of a fire crackling nearby, the sweet smell of grilled leaks wafting into your nostrils that aids in fully awakening your senses. You let out a sleepy yawn, sitting yourself up from your once previous positioning on your rolled out travel sack underneath you.

Sitting criss crossed, you wipe the bleariness from your scarlet irises before sucking in a deep breath and blinking, your sights now set on the campfire in front of you, a beautiful glow of bright oranges and gold. Geralt and Jaskier on either side, both quietly talking to one another before turning to face you. A knowing smile on either of their faces. Oh, Gods what did you do? And how did you even get here?

Shifting your confused gaze from Jaskier to Geralt and back again, you raise a puzzled brow, “Would any of you be kind enough to tell me how the fuck it’s already dark out?”

“What do you mean Y/N? It’s sunny as a summers day.” Confirms Jaskier with an honest smile, blue eyes looking into the fire as he strums a cord on his lute.

Shaking your head, you sniff, “Okay fuck you.”

Jaskier laughs as Geralt lets slip a couple chuckles before explaining, “You drank all of that wine bottle you stole.”

“Shit.” You mutter while rubbing your temples, “Who let me do that?”

“You did.” Adds the bard.

“Did I threaten you? I feel like drunk me was yelling for some reason, my throat kinda feels weird.”

“You were trying to get me to tell you the name of my lover.” Affirms Geralt with a laugh, “Which is obliviously you. Though drunk Y/N thought otherwise.”

“Fantastic.” You deadpan before turning on your side and laying on your back, deciding to relax once again, “So, how’d I get here? I forget after I was telling Jask about...uh, well...doesn’t matter.”

Smiling to himself from the explicit information you slipped to him about yourself and Geralt in the bedroom, Jaskier chuckles at that while Geralt moves to lay down as well, his head close to yours as you both make an L on the ground. “I put a drop of sleeping potion on my tongue and when I kissed you...”

“You gave me tongue and drugged me?” You confirm with a breathy laugh, honestly quit impressed he managed to pull that off so smoothly. Well, then again you were drunk off your ass.

Geralt hums, “It was either that or let you kill Jaskier. It was a tough decision really.”

“What?” Gasps Jaskier, “You had to think about it?”

“And he chose to slip me some enchanted sleeping juice instead. You’re welcome.”

Jaskier scoffs, “Yeah well you wanted to fuck him in the woods so....shut it.”

“We still can,” Mutters Geralt with a smile, face turned a bit so he has a better view of your face, “if you want.”

Smirking back at him, Jaskier almost chokes on his own spit, “I am right here. Right here Geralt. Right here.”

You laugh at the bards dramatics, “We never said you had to watch.”

“Wha-thats besides the point! And just, ugh please don’t....” Whines Jaskier, making a face of disgust before frowning, “or at least just wait for me to fall asleep.”

Laughing, you give the bard an agreeable nod, “Don’t worry we will.”

#geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt x you #geralt x y/n #the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #Jaskier the bard #the witcher imagine

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blinderspeaky · 3 years

Text

Amoret | Tommy Shelby

A/n: So this is my first piece of writing here and I apologise if it's too long! idk how accurate this is but I had fun writing it so that's all that matters I guess

Cora is going through a dry spell because everyone is too scared to make a move on her because of her best friend, Thomas Shelby, so he takes matters into his own hands -- literally.

Word count: 23,450

"I can't believe you did that." I flirtatiously giggle as if I didn't have to scrub my hands raw to get rid of the blood from the gory mess that happened just a few hours prior.

"I needed to get out somehow, I just didn't realise I was trashing hundreds of pounds worth of art." The handsome stranger laughs, leaning into me as we get more familiar and comfortable with each other.

"Terrible, just terrible." I smile fondly, my red lipstick gleaming at him as I fiddle with my fruity cocktail.

"I must say, you have the most gorgeous smile, if I knew how to paint I'd never run out of inspiration as long as you're around." The man charms and I have to suppress an eye roll.

What does a girl have to do to just get a bit of pleasure round here?

I'm not here to be charmed, I'm here for a fun time.

"Thank you, you really know how to charm a girl." I say, crossing my leg over the other, so that my leg is in between his legs from where he's sat on the bar stool.

"Only the pretty ones." He replies, pushing the little curled bits of hair framing my face behind my ear-- the rest of my hair is placed in a delicate low bun, pinned back with expensive pins. He rubs his knuckles against my cutting cheek bone, seemingly admiring my face. "It's unfair how beautiful you are."

"What are you gonna do? Kiss me about it?" I make the first move.

He smirks.

"Thinking about it."

His eyes flicker between my eyes and my lips, and he's about to lean in when a voice interrupts.

"Cora." Tommy says as he walks up to us. "I'm going to head back to my office, I'll see you later to finish business, alright?"

"Yeah, just you?" I question, staring up at my best friend.

"Yeah, Arthur's pissed in the back room, thought I'd let you know, but everyone is still here." Tommy answers, giving my shoulder a squeeze.

"See yous." I sing, ready to turn back to my entertainment tonight.

"Bye." Tommy says and gives the handsome stranger a once over before leaning down to say something into my ear. I'm used to his teasing and he's used to my punches after, so I let out a huff, ready to hear what he has to say this time. "Careful, I've heard this one bites."

I look into his eyes with an annoyed look. "That's why I'm here."

Tommy lets out a quiet chuckle before wordlessly leaving the building, leaving me with the pretty boy.

Looking back at the stranger, I'm startled to find him wide eyed and inching away from me by the second.

"What?" I ask, taking a sip from my drink.

"That was... that was Thomas Shelby." He says, frozen.

"So?" I lift a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"He's a Peaky Blinder."

"So am I, yet you've been talking to me just fine." I state, knowing where this is going; this has happened way too many times recently.

People know of me but most people couldn't put a face to my name, which is why this happens a lot. I'm ready for the onslaught of rejection and a hint of terror.

"You're a Peaky Blinder?" He utters as if he can't believe it.

I nod.

"I've gotta, uh, go, have a nice evening but I must get going." He says and quickly gets off his stool to rush out of the room, practically tripping over his own feet.

Letting out a huff, I finish my drink before hopping off my stool to join everyone in the back room, everyone is more or less smashed, a slur of half hearted cheers go around room when I enter and it makes me smile. I sit down next to Finn, who offers me a cigarette, which I accept and light it up, tilting my head towards the ceiling showcasing the thin, long scar on my throat, I blow the smoke out, watching it billow towards the ceiling.

"Why are men so scared of me and Tommy?" I grumble.

"Because they know if they fuck up, either of you will rip their spleen out, darling." Polly comments, her slender fingers twitching her cigarette to drop off the ash. "Individually or together, doesn't matter." She adds.

"Match made in heaven... or hell, depends how you look at it." Michael states before downing his drink.

"How do you do it?" I ask Polly, taking a drag of my cigarette.

"Well, for starters, I'm not as ruthless as you and I guess I'm not attached to the hip with Thomas." She replies nonchalantly.

"What you need to do, right, Cora, is find a man who is handsome and can take a good punch." Arthur tells me and I raise an eyebrow at him. "Because whoever it is, he's gonna get punched by someone you know and by punched I mean shot."

"No one is bulletproof, Arthur." I say, not taking on his drunk advice.

"I am." John laughs.

"No, no you're fucking not." Finn retorts.

"How do girls not get scared of you guys?" I question, fiddling with my necklace. "On an extremely good day you guys can look intimidating and scary, how do you get girls?"

They all scoff at my teasing.

"Fuck off, alright." Arthur grumbles, knocking back another glass.

"The girls like the thrill. They come from a very traditional family and want a part of the danger but they also think they can change us." John answers my question seriously.

"Never fucking works though, does it?" Finn barks a laugh, nudging John.

We continue to chat for a while before I get bored and I'm still slightly pissed off about earlier, so I say my goodbyes not that anyone's really listening, too drunk to function so I slip out and step out into the brisk chilly streets of Birmingham.

Twisting and turning until I get to my destination, I open the door with the key I've had for literal years and brush my shoes off before stepping inside, closing the door behind me.

Making my way through the room, I wordlessly open Tommy's office, finding him sat at his desk going through paper work, cigarette in hand; he looks up, dropping his pen but goes back to his work.

"You're here earlier than I thought." He states, his tone light.

I huff, mad at him although I know it's not his fault.

"Same." I reply tightly, throwing my bag down into the little seating area in the corner of his office before I sit down in the chair opposite him.

"You don't have to be here, I can do this on my own, you know. I'm not forcing you to be here." Tommy replies in a sincere voice, taking a drag of his cigarette.

"I know, but no one wants me out there." I counteract, leaning back in my chair, a sour look on my face.

Tommy looks like he wants to ask but decides against it; he knows when I'll come around.

"Right, uh... so I talked to some connections and they said they know about the plans but are refusing to tell me any details, and I'm debating with either paying them a visit or selling their information." Tommy informs and just like that I'm back into business mode again, forgetting about my interaction from earlier.

Then we talk about business, business plans, plans for the future, and just random things whilst having a laugh.

As things are winding down, Tommy gets up to grab a drink from his own bar cart that he has in his office.

"Do you want one?" Tommy offers, looking over his shoulder at me.

"Sure." I accept and he gets another glass out, beginning to pour our drinks. I sink into my chair, rubbing my eyes as I let out a groan. I'm still bothered about earlier.

That guy just rubbed me the wrong way, it's happened plenty of times before tonight; I'm best friends with one the most notoriously dangerous person in the midlands, I guess tonight was just my breaking point.

If I saw him again, I wouldn't hesitate to send a few promises to him.

"Fuck, how come you can be a manwhore but I can't even get a single person to be interested in me for more than 20 minutes?" I question, accepting my glass from Tommy when he approaches me.

"Long enough to get the job done though." Tommy jokes, sitting down in the chair next to me, our feet hovering above one another where our legs are crossed. "I think it's a little thing called misogyny."

"Little thing my ass." I bitterly chuckle, taking a sip. "You're at fault for all this, by the way."

"The fuck did I do?" He asks with a light laugh, before taking a sip of his drink.

"You're the reason all these people get scared to either even approach me or go any further than some harmless flirting." I explain, tucking some hair behind my ear as I send him a look that only widens his smirk.

"Not my fault people are so delirious with terror when it comes to me." Tommy shrugs, placing his glass on the table beside his chair and he laughs at my disbelief.

"Yeah, because you definitely didn't put on a show at the garrison last month that we're still finding blood from." I roll my eyes fondly.

"Got to show my enemies what I'm capable of." Thomas brushes my words off. "And hey, it's not like you're innocent yourself. Didn't you destroy a guy's face so much they the police couldn't even identify him just a few days ago?" He teases, licking his lips.

"No, doesn't ring any bells." I shake my head.

"Funny, maybe that's why men are scared of you and won't approach you. I for one, am absolutely terrified of you." Tommy states, making me laugh knowing that's he's only half joking.

"Most people can't put name to my face so they generally don't know me, therefore it's your fault." I tell him, placing my drink on the matching side table next to me.

"Really?" He sighs

"Yes! Just earlier tonight I was talking to some guy and then you came along, Mr. I will cut someones ears off if they look at me, and you scared the bejeezus out of him, turned him into a puddle of foolery. Then I told him I'm connected to you and he freaked the fuck out, made an excuse to leave and he practically tripped over his own feet to get away from me." I reply grumpily, sitting up in my chair.

"Are you done?" Tommy asks, sending me a look.

"No, no I'm fucking not. I've not had sex in like 2 months, do you even know what that feels like? Most of the time it's not even me, it's you that scares them off!" I answer exasperated, watching him down the rest of his drink, placing the empty glass back on the table.

"No, I don't, actually. Why don't you just go outside of Birmingham for a fuck?" Tommy suggests, leaning forward on his knees.

"Fuck you. Mate, I've fucking tried and if we weren't literally sewn together that might work but everywhere I am, you are, vice versa. It's also such a faff to go all the way out or Birmingham for some dick that's probably mediocre. You ju---"

I'm cut off from my rant by Tommy's lips on mine.

I'm so confused and stunned by his actions that I don't know how to react. Freezing, I just sit there for a moment before I decide to kiss him back for a few moments before I pull back sort of abruptly, not in a big deal.

"What are you doing?" I question, searching his crystal clear blue eyes that are mere inches away from my face.

"If everyone else is so scared of me that they can't approach you, may as well take matters into my own hands." Thomas explains, and he gingerly cups my cheek, his thumb brushing over my cheekbone, his eyes soft.

I lean in closer to him, thinking over how this could play out, what it would do to our years long friendship.

It's no secret that we find each other attractive, we've said it to each other and everyone around us, but I can honestly say that nothing has ever happened between us. Two best friends that have expressed our admiration for each other.

I don't know if I want to ruin that.

Our friendship is incredibly strong and personal, I don't know if one steamy night could just throw that away.

My desire acts on it's own and as Tommy is searching my green eyes, I close the gap between us, moving in perfect sync with each other as I play with his hair and he squeezes my waist.

It's like I'm slipping into a trance and all I can think of is Tommy, I'm consumed with all things Tommy. This moment right now is making me feel lighter than air, I've got sparks on my stomach at how he's making me feel.

The burning need to be closer is killing me and it seems like Tommy is feeling the same as he uncups my cheek and places his hands on my waist, pulling me onto his lap.

Thomas agonizingly slowly trails his hand up my thigh, his fingertips grazing my exposed skin where my dress has risen up, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Tommy's hand comes in contact with the pocket knife stuffed into my stocking and he pulls away slightly, letting out a low throaty chuckle, "Classic Cora." He mumbles against my mouth, making me smile, and he pulls deadly weapon from my stocking, placing it on the table beside him. Giving my hip a momentary squeeze, Tommy swipes his tongue against my lip asking for entrance, parting my lips, his tongue meets mine and he begins to explore my mouth, seeing what gets a reaction from me.

His fingers find my precariously placed tied up hair, pulling the few pins out and then the hair tie, sending my thick, dark brown almost black curls cascading down my back, causing Tommy to let out a sound of appreciation and bury his fingers into my hair.

I don't usually have my hair down as it's easy to grab on to and it just feels more professional to have it up. I've also got so much of it that it gets in the way when I'm trying to work.

Disconnecting from Tommy I attach my mouth to his neck, leaving my mark. Tommy tilts his head, giving me space to find his sweet spot and he lets out a nice little moan as I set to work.

The pending feeling of his hand trailing my thigh is overwhelming and his fingertips approaching where I need him the most makes me pause, my bottom lip dragging up the skin of his neck.

"Do you want me to stop?" Thomas whispers into my ear, his pursed lips tugging at my earlobe.

"Fuck no." I consent, and his hand meets my underwear.

Beginning to confidently rub me through my underwear, I let out a shaky breath against Tommy's neck and I instinctively open my legs wider for him. His touch is as light as a feather, desperate for more friction, I grind on his fingers letting out a moan.

"Mm, sound so good for me." Tommy rasps, his teeth grazing the skin on my prominent collarbone. Moving my fancy lacy underwear to the side, without hesitation Tommy runs his fingers through my folds, collecting my wetness and bringing it up to my clit.

All I can do is bite my lip to conceal my moans.

Trailing my hand down his front until I meet is trousers and I begin to palm is growing semi, which makes him let out a groan.

I declare that as my favourite sound.

Suddenly in one swift motion, I'm moved off of Tommy's lap and placed right on the edge of his hardwood desk and he's standing right in front of me, his gorgeous blue eyes blown out, looking at me as if I were the only person in world, and he's hungry.

"You're really pretty." Tommy utters.

Before I can reply, Thomas captures my lips again in another sensual kiss that's full of tongue, noises of appreciation, and hands are roaming as we keep involuntarily grinding against each other.

Pushing his suit jacket off and watching it drop to the floor, Tommy's hands find the back of my dress, making quick work of undoing the expensive fabric, and pulling it off of me, leaving me in my lingerie that I definitely didn't plan on letting my best friend see tonight whilst he's in his trousers, crisp white shirt, and extortionate looking waistcoat.

"Wow." My best friend says, slightly out of breath, taking in my figure and how off guard and innocent I look.

Unlike the brutally violent and devious businesswoman I am.

"Unbelievable."

"Shut up and touch me." I chuckle bashfully, weirded out at how special he's making me feel.

I feel extremely exposed but in a weird way, I kind of like it.

Tommy smiles fondly and presses a series of short kisses to my mouth before I take hold of his lip, flicking my tongue against him, causing him to tighten his grip on me.

Disconnecting, Thomas kisses down my neck, leaving a mark or two on his way down, until he gets to my chest and I arch into him. Kissing my cleavage as he cups my right boob, his lips trail down my torso, leaving a trail of fire behind him.

Dropping down to his knees, Tommy takes hold of my hips pressing a gentle kiss below my belly button before he snaps open my garter one by one and effortlessly drags my stockings down my legs.

Grazing up my legs with his hands or mouth, Tommy after what feels like years pulls my panties down, throwing them out of sight, I watch as his eyes light up and if possible I feel even more exposed.

Flicking his eyes up to me, looking like he's asking for my consent, I brush my fingers through his hair and give him a subtle nod.

Burying his head between my thigh, Tommy licks a strip up my heat, making me let out a moan, and bury my fingers into his thick hair.

Leaning back onto his desk, Tommy pushes my thighs apart so he can get better access as he attaches his mouth so my core, sending me to all sorts of heaven.

"Fuck, Tommy." I whine, tugging at his hair as I arch my back.

"Let it out, we're here alone, scream my name, let me hear how much you want me." Tommy urges with a slight smirk.

Without any warning, Tommy pumps a finger into me and I conform to his wishes at that, not caring how loud I was being, I let his name fall from my lips along with my moans.

My legs shudder under his hand, he lapped at me as if I were his last meal, reveling in the sounds I was making, the sounds he was earning.

I was close and we both knew that, so Tommy speeds up his movements and adds another finger inside of me, curling up.

"Fuck, oh my god, Tommy, don't stop." I pant, tugging at his hair.

Tommy had me withering in moments, my fingers tugging at his hair which made him groan, only adding to the pleasure he was giving me.

"Fuck, I'm gonna---" I began which only spurred Thomas on, he sucked harder and pumped his fingers faster. My breathing hitched and shaky, breathy, and loud sounds left my lips as I clenched around him, my body shuddering from the orgasm he'd worked out of me.

He continues his motions making sure I'm done, then pulls his fingers out, standing up right, brushing some hair out of my face.

"Such a pretty girl." He whispers, eyeing my lips.

Tommy's thumb runs over my bottom lip and I open my mouth, he brings his fingers that were inside of me to my lips, and I stick my tongue out and he inserts his finger into mouth, letting me suck my juices off of his fingers; his eyes seemingly in a trance at how my mouth is working.

"Mm, just like that." He whispers.

Standing up to my full height, I guide Tommy to swap places with me and he's very much willing to do so, peppering kisses to his jaw before dropping to my knees, I innocently look up at him through my lashes, loving how he's so aware of all my movements and how he's like putty in my hands.

"May I?" I raise an eyebrow, digging my fingertips under his belt.

Tommy leans down and cups my jaw, pressing a deep kiss to my lips. "Of course." I grin in delight and snatch a quick kiss as he begins to retreat.

Undoing his belt, I take that off and throw it away before undoing his button and pulling down his zipper. Palming him through his undone trousers, Tommy lets out a hitched breath, it's a barely there pressure, enough to feel something but no where enough as much as he like.

"Stop teasing." He groans, bracing himself on his desk and his knuckles are milky white from how hard he's holding on to his desk.

I chuckle darkly. "Tommy, I haven't even started."

Continuing my actions mixing up my pressure and pace as he throws his head back in annoyance.

Pulling him out of his underwear letting him spring free, Thomas groans when I grab him, making my mouth water. This sight alone could give me immense pleasure.

The sight of me on my knees in front of him, him practically fully clothed with his dick out, just calling out for me to suck, all whilst in the middle of his office.

With my best friend let alone.

I would love to tease him for hours but the overwhelming urge to hear Tommy moan, moan my name and pull my hair gets the best of me.

Tightening my grip on him, I wrap my lips around his tip that's already leaking precum, sucking lightly, which makes him throw his head back in pleasure.

"So pretty, such a pretty cock." I utter, licking his entire length and wrapping my mouth around him.

"Fuck, Cora." Tommy gasps, threading his hand in my hair to keep me there, and I let out a hum, causing him to tighten his grip on my hair as he lets out an estranged moan.

Taking as much as I possibly can into my mouth, I begin to work my magic, pumping whatever I can't with my hand whilst Tommy breathes heavily and lets out his moans above me.

The sight of him with his head thrown back as he moans my name whilst he half heartedly guides me with his hand, too lost in the pleasure to properly commits to it, is ingrained in my mind.

We're completely lost in the moment, right now it's just him and I, there's nothing else in our mind except lust and each other, and I'm alright with that.

"Oh my... fuck, I can't l---" Tommy cuts his pleasured rambling off and lets out a large breath before pulling me off of him. "I wanna finish inside of you." Tommy states breathlessly.

I wordlessly stand up, more than willing to conform to his needs and begin to undress him, his hands pulling off his clothes as fast as he can until he's completely stark naked in the middle of his office with his best friend.

Realising I've still got my bra on, I undo the back and pull the straps down, watching it fall the floor.

Tommy and I stand in front of each other, completely enamoured with each other, feeling extremely exposed but I like it.

"Gorgeous." Thomas whispers before pressing his lips to mine, gingerly holding my face in his hands.

Thomas guides me back a few steps to his desk and I prop myself upon it, as Tommy's hands roam.

Taking hold of himself, Tommy runs his tip through my dripping folds, the both of us letting out a shaky breath.

"You ready?" Tommy questions, tucking some hair behind my ears before pressing his forehead against mine.

"Mhm." I hum, running my hand down his back.

Capturing my lips in a quick kiss, Tommy lines himself up with my entrance and pushes in until he's done to the hilt.

"Fuck." We say in unison, making us breathe a chuckle.

Beginning to move his hips, Tommy buries his face in my neck, dragging his mouth wherever he pleases, exploring my skin. I hold the back of his neck, trying to stay afloat as my toes curl, and we're too far gone to care when expensive things fall from Tommy's desk.

***

"You should wear your hair down more often." Tommy tells me softly as he's propped up on his elbow looking down at me as I lie on my back, settling into the fairly large seating area Tommy has in his office.

"It's so long, it gets in the way." I pout, rubbing my eye.

"I like it." He sincerely says, picking up a lock and twirling it around his finger.

We're have gentle pillow talk without the pillows, just looking at each other in a different way as we lie in our underwear in the warm room, talking in quiet voices as if the whole world could hear us.

"I like your hair, very imaginative." I tease, combing his locks with my fingers.

"Rude." He grumbles, poking me in the side making me jerk as I let out a laugh.

"When you first get it cut it feels like velcro." I chuckle, making him grin.

"Yeah, I've just got the worst barber." Tommy smirks, playing with my fingers.

"Bitch." I laugh, ruffling his velcro like hair.

Every other Sunday Tommy sits in my kitchen letting me cut his hair as we bitch about business or just forgetting about work altogether.

"Talented at your craft but the most annoying barber I've ever met." He shakes his head, amused.

"I tell you each time, I don't mean to tickle your neck or catch your ear, it just happens." I defend myself, making him laugh.

"I don't mean to stab you, it just happens!" Tommy imitates me, making me poke him in the ribs which only makes him laugh harder. "If only people knew of your barbering skills and not your knife wielding skills, maybe they wouldn't be so scared of you."

"If only people knew of your sewing skills, they wouldn't be so scared of your gun ridden hand." I retort with a fond smile, looking up at how pretty he looks in this light, with the small matching fond smile of his face.

"Shh, or I'll tell people you are a professional at juggling." Tommy smirks, pushing some hair out of my face.

"Yeah, with knives, that's cool as fuck." I reply, passionate about my talent.

"Careful or we'll send you away to go to the circus." Tommy chuckles, pulling me in for a smiley kiss.

I've always been known to wake up really late, always the last one up, the last one to finish breakfast if at all, and always the last one out of the door in the morning. It's not that I stay out really late, I'm usually at home at a reasonable time, I cosy down in my homely home, and I just relax after the usually hectic day and yet I still wake up late.

Except today.

I wake up tangled in a mess of limbs, Tommy's arms wrapped around me and I suck in a breath, wishing on everything in the world that he doesn't wake up. Easily slipping out of his grasp, I sit on the edge of the large ottoman, rubbing my face before letting out a sigh.

I need to get dressed and be out of here before Thomas wakes up, I do not want to have the awkward conversation of the morning after.

Quickly and quietly, I put my dress back on, throw my hair up as I approach the window, pulling one of the slats down to see what it's like at this ungodly hour of 5 in the morning, the Sun is just starting to rise, highlighting the permanent haze of smoke above Birmingham.

Shoving my ankle boots on, I tug the zips up and tip toe towards the door so that my heels don't click against the wooden floors.

Closing the door behind me as silently as possible, I let out a big breath when I succeed and begin to walk out the building that I visit everyday.

I know I'm going to see Thomas again in just a few hours but hopefully we'll both be consumed in work to talk about what happened. God I hope no one will pick up on what happened.

I don't regret last night at all and I can say that with my whole chest but I also love my friendship with Tommy, and I hope one night of mind blowing, amazing sex won't ruin that.

I've no idea where we stand and that scares me.

That's my best friend, he'll always be my best friend.

Opening up the door to my house that I never got to see last night, I begin to tidy up a few things as I've got some time before I have to head into work. This is my haven, this is wear I escape work, I try not to bring business back here, this is my safe place so I have to have it clean.

Shoving an old newspaper into the bin, I begin to make a bite of breakfast and head into my bedroom whilst it cooks so I can get properly dressed.

Pulling my wardrobe open, brushing my fingers over the hangers until I find a suitable item a clothing; a navy blue dress that gives the illusion that it's off the shoulder but it's got a see through mesh-like material hanging from my shoulders with tiny multicoloured flowers embroidered into it, it's cinched at the waist but it's got a wavy extra bit of fabric above my chest, the length is slightly longer than I usually go for as it's inches shy from my ankles, whilst I usually go for just below the knee dresses but I like it.

Just about being able to do it up myself, I pick out some appropriate shoes with a tall heel as I'm surrounded by a lot of men so I hate being the shortest person in the room.

Plus Tommy is quite a bit taller than me and he always teases me for that, so I use my heel to either kick him in the shin or step on his toes.

Gently brushing through my hair to make sure it doesn't frizz up on me, I throw it up in an intricate low bun, leaving some large parts out to frame my face.

Going back downstairs to fetch my breakfast which I eat whilst I read this morning's paper, before I head out of the door.

***

"Well I'll say, this has got to be a first." Arthur laughs, leaning back in his chair as I enter the betting shop.

"Wow," Polly starts, looking at her watch bewildered. "Only 45 minutes late."

Even though I got up at the ass crack of dawn, I'm still late as I may or may not of got preoccupied with the book I've been reading recently and then I got caught up chatting with some people on my way over here.

"I usually expect to see you at around 10 or 11." John smirks, taking his cigar out of his mouth.

"What can I say? Don't get used to it." I say, my eyes flickering towards Tommy's office where he seems to be as of now and I can't help by think about last night.

"It's almost as if you're acting professional and playing by the rules." Polly sarcastically replies, hovering above Arthur.

"Never." I shake my head, placing my bag on my desk then hanging my long coat on the coat hanger.

"Tommy's in a bad mood, so watch out." John jokes, swinging in his chair.

"Really?" I raise an eyebrow, looking at him.

"Well, he's not really in any mood, he's just brooding in silence and doesn't want to interact or talk to anyone." Polly rolls her eyes,making her way over to her own work station. "Maybe you can sort him out." She adds, with a small smile.

Doubt it.

"I've gotta get my forms so I have to interact with him." I huff and brace myself as I open the door to his office, I've never knocked before so I'm not gonna start now.

"Good morning." Michael greets me, sitting in the chair that Tommy kissed me in.

"Morning." I say back, my eyes flicking up to Tommy who's not taking his eyes off of his work in front of him.

"Do you even know what this time of day looks like?" Michael teases, and I roll my eyes.

"Don't worry, Michael, she's been up for hours, I'm sure Cora loves the sunrise." Tommy states before I can even think of replying to Michael.

I glare at him as he leans back in his chair, lighting up his cigarette not even looking at me.

If he wants to be hostile, I can always beat him at that.

"Practically pulled an all nighter, was busy with a piece of work." I tell Michael but my words are aimed at Tommy, and I'm right because Tommy can be a piece of work when he wants to be.

Tommy just exhales his smoke and looks at me devoid of any emotion as I refuse to look at him.

"Should've asked for a hand, I'd of been more than willing." Michael says, completely oblivious to Tommy and I's quips.

"No, couldn't do that to you." I wave him off. "Anyway, I only came in here to get my forms." I say, finally looking at Tommy in the eyes, waiting for him to give them to me as they're in his drawer.

He just stares at me, his cigarette burning in his hand, seeming like there's a million words in his head that he wants to say yet absolutely thoughtless at the same time.

"Run along then, Michael." Tommy says as he hands Michael a file, which Michael wordlessly takes and exits the room.

Letting out a huff, I walk around his desk and crouch down next to him to open his bottom drawer.

"You're a twat, Tom." I grumble, grabbing the wad and standing up.

"No what you were saying la---" Tommy gets cut off by me slamming the stupid forms on his desk and the grabbing his own gun from his holster and pressing it below his jaw as I hold his throat, pushing him back in his chair.

"Finish that sentence, I dare you." I prompt him, looking at his slightly taken aback eyes. "You know I'll do it."

He stays silent, clearly picking up on my vibe.

Putting pressure on my hands one last time before throwing his gun into his lap, gathering what I came in here for and leaving his office.

Tommy and I bicker all the time, disagree on extremely menial stuff but we only properly argue very occasionally but we always come around in the end because despite everything we love each other but god can we get on each other's nerves.

Not that I'd call that an argument, that was just a warning.

"We knew you weren't a morning person but fuck Tommy must've pissed you right off." Arthur laughs, as he chalks some stuff up on the big blackboard.

"More than you'll ever know." I grumble, and begin to get to work.

***

As the Sun sets, people start clearing out of the building as they finish their work, singing or grumbling a goodbye over their shoulder as they go home to their family or lonesome house. I could only dream of clocking out as I've still got a load of work to do and not even the kind I like, it's all admin and menial things that need to be done but I wouldn't consider it fun by any means.

It's kind of nice in a funny sort of way, it's dark outside and the lights are on illuminating the room with a soft glow, there's a slight patter of rain on the windows and it's just relaxing and quiet.

It's giving me a moment with my mind to think things over as I pretty much work on autopilot.

I know Tommy is still here, I can see him through the glass doors to his office, clearing extremely concentrated on whatever he's doing; I wonder if his mind keeps drifting back to what we did on his desk just last night.

I don't what to say to him, he's giving me the cold shoulder, refuses to talk to me unless it's necessary, and I just don't know where we stand. I don't know what I want to come from last night, I'm really happy with where we are right now and although I had - arguably - the best sex of my life last night, not much can come between our friendship.

I felt something that night, Tommy made me feel so special and like I was the most important person in the world to him, and I couldn't deny that those feelings.

Letting out a sigh, I drop my pen and grab a cigarette, placing it between my lips before I search for my matches. Striking a match, I tilt my head back and as I'm bringing the flame to my cigarette my eyes catch Tommy leaning against the doorway to his office, staring at me.

I pause for a moment before lighting my cigarette and waving the match out as I exhale.

"You look really pretty when you concentrate." Tommy states and if there were another person in here I don't think I would of been able to hear him.

"I don't do it often so you're welcome." I reply, never one to take compliments. "But thanks." I bashfully add.

"We both know that's not true." Tommy smiles ever so slightly.

"You look really pretty when you smile." I reply, taking a drag from my cigarette.

Tommy steps down the few steps and approaches me.

"Cora... what's going on?" Tommy asks, turning the chair beside me around so he can sit on it backwards, his arms folded on the backrest.

I look down, not sure what to say or where to look or how to react.

"I don't... I don't know." I say quietly, almost ashamed to admit. I'm always in control of a situation, I know the ins and outs but this time I have no idea where I stand, what's going on and I'm definitely not in control; neither of us are.

"Do you regret it?" He questions and I look at him properly.

"No, I don't. I can honestly say that I don't regret it." I answer sincerely, and a shimmer of relief speeds across his eyes. "Do you?"

"No. It was great and you don't regret great things." Tommy replies after a few moments, watching me stub out my cigarette. "But... I was hurt that you left before I woke up." He hesitantly adds, as if he doesn't know how to put his words together.

Neither do I.

Looking around the room as I try to gather my words, I can feel his bright blue eyes boring into my side and its quite unnerving.

"I didn't know what to say to you. Tommy, you're my best friend, you have been since year 9, we've gone through so much together and I can always rely on you ---you've always just been my best friend. Then suddenly when I get rejected by some twat who's scared of either women in general or the fact that you are my best friend and you decide to kiss me and then things escalate, things change. For good or for bad I don't know." I try to just put some of my thoughts into words.

"You could've left a note, woke me up if you really needed to go, silently got dressed with me and then we parted ways, anything... anything other than wordlessly leaving. Everything stopped, I slept a full night, I didn't have any messy dreams, I woke up rested, then when I saw you weren't there with me, none of that mattered anymore." Thomas explains with a small shrug, his eyes burning for a conclusion, a cohesive answer, anything.

"Only because you had company, female company no doubt." I state, sending him a tired look. His face is illuminated by the standing lamp behind me, highlighting his slight frustration, hurt, and confusion.

"No, I'm almost 100 percent sure it's not just female company. When I got back from fighting and I was having my night terrors, I'd call you up and you'd come sleep in my bed, and you'd help me fall asleep again and at least help with my dreams. When I was using you'd demand that we share a bed because you knew that I knew that you hated it. You've always helped me sleep." Tommy insists, leaning forward in his chair.

"I was just being a good friend, Tom."

"I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend or to marry me, I'm just saying I sleep better with you around. I don't know what I want to come out from this or where we stand but please promise that at the end of the day we'll always be best friends." Tommy pleads, grabbing my hand, clasping it with both of his.

"We'll always be best friends, Thomas. No matter how mad I am at you or you at me, I'll always be there for you." I assure, squeezing his hand with a small smile. "I hate not being in control, my whole life I've always been in control, had a grip on things, and just knew the ins and outs of every situation, then suddenly I don't it scares the living hell out of me, Tom. I don't know how to react."

"I'm not asking you to, I'm just as confused and lost as you are, I don't know where we stand or how to be normal again." Tommy says, his eyebrows raised. "I don't know what I want to come from this, but I know I'll always want you around."

"Same, always." I tell him, looking deep into his eyes. "I've gotta go, Tommy, I'll see you tomorrow." I lie, I've still got a load of work to do but if Tommy keeps looking at me like he is now, I'm not going to be able to make it out of here without my hair a mess.

Standing up, I push my chair back in and take a step away before Tommy says something.

"You can't keep running from your problems."

I pause, turning to look at him.

"Sorry?"

"You can't keep running away from things that you can't solve in 5 minutes." Tommy expands, looking up at me. He looks uncertain, as if he doesn't know how I'll react.

Keeping my gaze on his for a split second more before I swiftly bend down to press my lips against his, cupping his cheek. He seems surprised and stills for a moment then eagerly kisses me back, his hand also on my cheek.

We kiss for a few more moments until I pull back slightly, our faces inches away. "Watch me." I whisper, looking into his stormy sea of blue eyes, and my eyes flicker down to his lips before I stand up to my full height.

Taking a step back to make my move out of here but Tommy suddenly stands up straight and grabs my hand before I can escape and pulls me into him, immediately cupping my face with his soft hands and softly crashes his mouth to mine.

Without any hesitation I kiss him back, wrapping my arms loosely around his neck as I slowly relax into him. Tommy pulls me impossibly close to him, feeling every contort of his body, his hands steadily trail down my back as I work my mouth against his.

Once again, Tommy pulls my hair out of my hairband, letting my wild locks bounce free around my back. He buries his fingers into my curls whilst his other hand wonders, feeling my waist, hips and ass.

I press my hips against his and he leans against the nearest desk, he lets out a moan at the feeling of my hips and I take advantage of that so my tongue can get reacquainted with his.

Last time it was slow, hesitant touches, taking our time but this time it's eager, fast moving, and hungry.

I let out a moan when Tommy flicks his tongue against mine, completely lost in the moment; I can feel that I'm losing myself in him, his touch, his mouth, his mind. Disconnecting, Tommy attaches his mouth to the sensitive skin on my neck, dragging his lips up to the sweet spot below my ear.

The fast that he knows that fact sends me reeling over something so silly and simple, but it wakes me up.

Immediately I push myself off of him, taking a few shaky steps back with wide eyes. He looks shocked, his blown out eyes shining in concern, and he takes a step towards me.

"Co---"

"No." I shake my head. "We can't do this, I need to leave." I blurt out and make an exit, not bothering to pick up my coat on the way out as Tommy calls after me, but I slam the door on him, blocking out his voice that's always been comforting for me.

***

"Turns out it was just a fluke then." Polly teases, lighting up a cigarette as I enter the building.

"Seems like it." I agree, glancing at the clock, seeing it reads 10:45.

"Who's this raven haired beauty walking in?" A familiar voice asks, and I look to my left to see Ada proudly sitting on the closest desk to me.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, not being able to help the grin on my face as I approach her, pulling her into a quick hug.

"Thought I should come up as I haven't seen everyone in a while, and you even longer." Ada explains, and it's true as the last time she came up I was busy visiting my family that live down south.

"Well, it's great to see you again. Did you bring Karl?" I question, and as I'm looking at her I can't help the guilt that tugs at me as I slept with her brother just a few nights ago.

"Yeah, he's busy making a mess in Tommy's office with Finn." She answers, folding her arms.

"I'm sure he'll look forward to finding that." I smirk. "Is Tommy here by the way?" I ask curiously, hanging my bag up along with my coat, next to the coat I left here last night when I made a hasty exit.

"No, something happened at The Garrison or something and he had to go sort that out." Ada informs me, sending me a quizzical look when I let out a sigh of relief.

"Michael said someone got too rowdy and fired some shots at someone, no ones seriously hurt but Tommy went to go sort it out." Polly says, walking towards us creating a trio.

"When did your hair get so long?" Ada asks fascinated, her slender fingers coming up to grasp a few loose curls.

"I've not seen you without your hair up in what? Two years, maybe?" Polly comments, also looking at my hair.

"I just didn't have time this morning to do it, rolled out of bed, parted it and left." I tell her, running my hand through it.

"Didn't have the time? It's nearly 11 o'clock and you're only just strolling into work." Ada exclaims with a laugh.

"It took me ages to get to sleep, and I need my 8 hours." I retort, the reasons I couldn't get to sleep need to remain a secret.

Her damn brother.

"And just because you're you Tommy won't get mad. If any of us are more than 20 minutes late, Tommy will act like a child." Polly roll her eyes.

"How do you do it?" Ada asks genuinely.

Suck his dick apparently.

"I simply just show him my knife and he does whatever." I joke, with a smirk. "Hey, it's not like you have to be here at 8 or 9 on the dot, you're all founders of this company, you have just as much of say as that dumb fuck."

"True, but you can't deny that Tommy will throw a fit if we're late, where as you..."

"What can I say? Shelbys love me." I tease and leave the room.

It's just pushing 3 pm when Tommy walks into the room again, the first time I'm seeing him since I freaked out last night. It's been a busy and chaotic day so far, people coming in and out, I had to go deal with someone who wasn't paying up which got a bit messy, then I had to catch up on all the things I didn't do yesterday after leaving prematurely, and to do that with a messy head on top of that is difficult.

Tommy searches the room as he continues to walk through the room until he finds me. "You, my office." He points his finger at me and then towards his office doors.

"No?" I shake my head, quirking my eyebrows.

"It's fucking business that's all." Tommy huffs from across the room, giving me a slight glare before looking down and heading towards his office.

Pushing my chair out, I let out an even bigger huff than Tommy's and stand up, meeting him at his office doors. Our eyes flicker over each other extremely briefly before he opens his door and lets me enter first.

We both stop short at the sight of a man sitting in the chair opposite Tommy's desk.

"Who's that?" I whisper to Tommy, neither of us taking a step further.

"Mr Parsons, wants business with us." Tommy briefly tells me before moving forward. "Good afternoon, Mr Parsons."

"Ah! Good afternoon, not that good in a place like this." Mr Parsons states, looking up at Tommy as he goes to sit in his desk chair.

"Good afternoon." I greet and sit down in the chair next to him.

"Oh, a woman, a pretty woman that is." He comments with a weird smile of his face.

I send a quick look to Tommy who looks just as speechless as I am. "Thank you, business --- what can we do for you?"

Ever since I joined The Shelby Company Limited all those years ago Tommy's always asked me to join in with meetings. Not entirely sure why if I'm honest, he's always said and I quote 'you give me a level headed opinion', whatever that means.

"I need protection, I've recently moved to this shithole and I've heard that you so called Peaky Blinders are the best people for the job." Mr Parsons states, intertwining his fingers over his chest.

Tommy and I share a look at his choice of words.

"What do you need protecting?" Tommy questions, leaning back in his chair.

As Mr Parsons answers Tommy's question in his unique way of vocabulary, I take a good look at him. He's probably at the higher end of middle-aged, a full head of black hair growing white, a rather slim and tall build, well dressed, a thin greying moustache, and a sinister smile. He's not unattractive but there's something just off about his face.

"We will definitely look into that, Mr Parsons, we'll need to assess the situation ourselves first." Tommy says, gesturing with his hands.

"This pretty lady, I hope of course." He gives me a grin, and I grip the arms of the expensive chair to stop myself from showing him what I really think of him.

"No." Tommy bluntly tells him. "My brother will."

"That's a real shame." Mr Parsons sighs and looks at me as if I were his last meal on earth. "I must say, I think it's really great that you have so many women working for you."

"First of all," Tommy starts, leaning back in his chair and lights a cigarette, "They work with me, and secondly if you weren't so creepy and weird, you'd not speak of women as if they're a rare breed of dog."

Mr Parsons takes no notice of Thomas, just keeps his smile as his green eyes take me in, making my skin crawl. If the circumstances wear different and we were in a different environment I'd of either punched the guy in the face or threatened to do something worse by now, but because this is business and he could be important, I can't.

I lead forward in my chair to be closer to him despite my whole body screaming no. "You're coming on a little strong."

"That's just the way I act with beautiful women. A good one only comes around once and a while and you have to snap them up real fucking quick." He replies, with a wink, looking proud of himself.

"And you think it's working?" Tommy sasses and I stifle a chuckle, pursing my lip to conceal my smirk.

"I know it's working." He states over confidently, which even if I were into him, that would be a big turn off.

Like Tommy, he has a certain confidence about him but it's not stifling, big headed, or cocky, it's subtle, he demands it without verbally demanding it, and it's attractive.

Ew, since when did I use my best friend as a model of what is hot and not?

"Business, Mr Parsons, we're here for business." I remind him, sending him a stern look.

"See." Mr Parsons smirks at Tommy, and I roll my eyes as Tommy just stares straight through him, his cigarette seemingly forgotten as it burns in his fingers. "My business need protecting because I've made a few enemies in my year, and people like trying to tear me down."

"Wonder why." I mumble in a huff.

"What was that, sweetheart?"

"Oh nothing, just talking to myself, nothing for you to worry about." I wave him off, throwing a glare at him I how intrusive he's being.

"Anything that concerns your gorgeous mind is my concern, darling." Mr Parsons states softly before he grabs my hand that was dangling off of the arm of my chair.

I throw my head back in annoyance; I'd give anything to show this bitch my knife. I pull hand back, wanting to wash hands immediately.

"Why should we give you our protection?" Tommy asks, raising an eyebrow, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"Because, you clearly need it." Mr Parsons says, taking his eyes off of me from practically looking through my clothes to look at Tommy straight in the eyes.

Tommy abruptly gets up and rounds his desk towards me, he nods his head for me to get out of my chair, which I do and Tommy places his hand on my waist as we switch places to me sitting in his chair opposite Mr Parsons to Tommy sitting next to him, I can feel Mr Parsons' eyes on my body as I move. Tommy leans forward in his new chair, looking deep into Mr Parsons' eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He questions, looking scary but it's kinda hot and to be honest, I'm slightly turned on.

"You live in a place like this, it's pretty self explanatory." Mr Parsons replies, crossing his leg over the other.

"I choose to live here, you don't have a choice." Tommy points out, clearly knowing more about him than I do.

"If that's what you want to believe, sure." He chuckles, throwing his head back.

"I'm not accustomed to being spoken to like that, especially not in my own fucking office." Tommy states, shaking his head slightly.

"What? No one been brave enough?" He chortles. "I've always been---"

"No one's seen the next morning after." Thomas cuts him off bluntly, and Mr Parsons stills for a moment.

This is such a dangerous and tense moment yet all I can do is keep my eyes locked on Tommy and all I want in the world right now is a repeat of the other night.

"I'm here to make a deal, Mr Shelby."

"Fine, give me your proposition." Tommy says, leaning back in his seat.

"50 percent of what I can--- no, will bring into The Shelby Company." Mr Parsons states with no remorse.

"And how do you expect to do that?" Tommy practically almost laughs, and I bite my lip to stop my guffaws coming out.

"With my business. If you protect me and people know that we're in bed together, you'll get even more people coming to you, you won't know where to put all the money." He answers, clearly delusional.

"Anything more you want from your so called deal?" Tommy asks, raising an eyebrow.

"A night with the girl."

We both freeze at that, both of us not believing that he just said that.

Tommy's always been protective of me, especially with people like this. I can even remember when I'd get people a year or two above me in school hitting on me or flirting with me, Tommy would always put them in their place and then ask if I was okay.

Yet at the same time, he knows to give me space and when I'm at my breaking point. He knows I don't like being smothered and accommodates for that.

"She's off the fucking table, untouchable." Tommy states with no hesitation or room for arguing. "Get the fuck out of my office." He shakes his head.

"I said sh---"

"Out." I push and he turns to look at me, his eyes widening at the sight of a gun pointed at his head.

"Yo---"

"Out." I push and pull the slide back.

He wordlessly gets up and Tommy and I escort him out as he swears a storm, slamming the door after himself.

Tommy and I stare at each other, alone since last night.

We both act on our own accord as I'm suddenly pressed against the wall, with Tommy's mouth on mine. I grip the back of his neck, my nails tickling his skin as Tommy pins me against the wall with his hips whilst his hands grip whatever he can.

Tommy wastes no time letting his tongue get reacquainted with mine, and I let out a moan at the feeling.

Last time it was soft, gentle, and slow, this time though, this time it's a lot more heated, passionate, and rougher.

"Jump." Tommy mumbles against me, and I do so, wrapping my legs around him as his hands go to my ass to get a steady grip on me.

I can tell he's holding back, almost as if he's refraining himself

"You can be rougher with me, by the way. I'm not made of glass." I quietly tell him, tracing his face with my fingers as we search each others eyes.

"Yeah?" He raises an eyebrow. "How rough?"

"We could set up a safe word?" I suggest.

"Like what?"

"Juggle?"

Tommy laughs before he presses his forehead against mine. "That works."

***

"What the fuck was that?" Tommy asks shocked, trying to catch his breath as his hand trails down the bare skin on my back.

"I don't know but oh my god." I shake my head, resting my forehead on his shoulder.

"This needs to be a regular occurrence, it's too good not to be." Tommy states, throwing his head back in his leather desk chair.

"Definitely." I agree, beginning to catch my breath.

I pull back, looking at Tommy who looks at me with hooded eyes and a small genuine smile, seemingly in a daze; we both are.

"You look pretty like this, no walls up, exposed and genuine." Thomas tells me softly, pushing some hair out of my face before quickly yet gently brushing his lips against mine.

"You're only saying that because I'm naked on top of you." I retort, beginning to have feeling in my legs again after riding him in his chair.

"I've always thought your were the most gorgeous person in the world, you know that, fuck, everyone knows that." He says and my stomach turns into liquid heat.

"Stop." I bashfully reply, burying my face into his neck as he breathes a laugh, continuing to stroke my back.

"You're so cute." He chuckles, kissing the side of my head.

"I've gotta get back to work, as much fun as this was, I like making money." I state, swiftly sliding off his lap and searching for my clothes that are strewn about the room somehow.

"So, what do you think we should do about Mr Parsons?" Tommy asks me, watching me fasten the back of my bra.

"You're not considering doing business with him are you?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"No, fuck no." He shakes his head, getting up out of his chair to also get dressed. "Can't just let him come out of here with no repercussions."

"Probably just scare him, he didn't necessarily do anything, was just extremely unprofessional and disrespectful." I give him my two cents, before slipping my thick and dark jumper over my head. "But if there's anything that needs blowing up, you know where to find me."

Tommy chuckles as he buttons his shirt up.

"Of course." He nods with a smile, watching me slip into my skirt. "I'll send Finn his way."

"Terrifying." I smirk, finding it hard to believe that the boy I watched grow up could be intimidating.

"You seemed scared of him when he knocked on the door." Tommy teases, brushing his hip against mine as he walks past me.

"Well obviously, you had me up against the wall he was on the other side of; anyone could've caught us." I retort, looking in a mirror to sort my hair out as Tommy seems to have a fascination with it.

"Oh, so you're ashamed of me now are you?" Tommy asks, a teasing glint to blue eyes.

"Yeah, you're my dirty little secret." I laugh, before tying my shoes up.

Tommy tilts his head back to laugh as he slips his blazer back on, both of us looking put together again as if we didn't just have mind blowing sex.

"I'm going to have to kick you out of my office if you're going to speak to me like that." Tommy states, as we both near the door.

"We should really stop fucking on here. Next time my house." I tell him, looking up at him and the funny bright look in his eyes.

"Oh, so their is going to be a next time?" Tommy smirks with a raised eyebrow, look in proud of himself.

"You know as well as I do that there's going to be a next time." I send him a knowing look and he subtly licks his lips, looking pleased. "Can't get rid of you Shelbys if I tried."

Tommy laughs and presses a quick smiley kiss to my lips, "Don't ever change."

That's the start of an extremely natural, fulfilling, fun and sensual relationship. Nothing really changed within our friendship, only that we see each other naked a lot more.

It's definitely brought us closer together. We were extremely close before everything happened but now it feels like we've gotten to a new level, definitely a more intimate level but we're closer than ever before.

It kinda feels like we should've been messing around the whole time, it feels silly that we weren't. What we've got is so much fun and honestly it's a nice stress reliever at the end of the day.

It doesn't feel like we're tarnishing our years long friendship, this feels natural and free flowing.

No one knows, we made that a strict rule. We always try to mess around in the privacy of our own homes, but sometimes when it's late and everyone's gone home we can help ourselves or if tensions get high throughout the day.

I'm pretty sure no one knows. When this all started Ada was visiting and we were slightly sloppy with our secrecy, and she kinda cornered Tommy and I at different times but we got away with it as she never mentioned it again. After that we got our act together and any suspicion that was around died.

It's relatively unexpected from us, although we've expressed our attraction and admiration for each other to other people, we've always said we'd never act on it or that it was even possible to feel anything but appreciation for each other.

I've always joked that it'd be awful to be in a relationship with Tommy and that I'd hate to wake up to him everyday.

We also have another rule to not fall in love, which I laughed at when Tommy asked me to not fall in love with him, and then I told him to not flatter himself.

It's been kinda exciting sneaking around with Tommy. I feel like I'm hiding the resident bad boy of the town from my parents, but in this case it's one of the most dangerous people in the country and I'm sneaking around in front of his family, friends, and co-workers.

We generally don't really see each other outside of work besides on the Sundays that he comes over to my house to get his hair cut. Almost everyday we spend a lot of time together when everyone's gone home or ended their work day, we work together a lot, and I guess we see each other at the pub a lot; but to see each other outside of those premises isn't often. I occasionally go to Thomas' house but not by choice, only if he needs me there or there's a crises or an event going on but if I'm honest I don't like his house, which I've told him before and he always laughs at me because of it.

I love my flat in the heart of Small Heath and you couldn't get me out of their if you tried. I've lived there for years and it's my own place to call home. I could easily afford a house like Tommy's but you'd have to kill me to get me out of my flat.

In recent times, my house has sort of become his residence as he's spent so much time here recently. It's not just sex, we'll sometimes go to my house after work or after some evening entertainment, have a meal or just talk which leads to sex, and then half the time Tommy will stay the night; which leads to us having to sneak into work together without raising any suspicions.

Like now, it's honestly too often you'd find Tommy in my bed the morning after as the sun is beginning to shine through my bedroom windows, talking in quiet voices and having a few laughs.

Letting out a soft laugh at Tommy, I rub my hand over my face wake myself up a little bit more.

It's well into the morning, Tommy and I are lying in my bed, surrounded by sun spots that are pouring through my worn French windows, the Birmingham bustle is in full swing a few floors below us that we can hear small swings of from the window that is just slightly open, yet it's calm and quiet in this plant ridden room.

Just our quiet voices as if we were confessing our darkest secrets with the occasional stranger's shouty voice drifting through the window, and soft touches like we're handling a rare and ancient piece of history.

"Do you miss it?" Tommy asks as we're going through old memories.

"I miss my only worries being if Matthew Kennedy liked be back or not and being young and carefree, but I also love my life right now." I reply.

"Oh yeah, you planned out your wedding, how many kids you were gonna have and everything." Tommy laughs, his eyes glazed over as he thinks back to simpler times.

"It was gonna be outside with as many flowers as possible and we were gonna have 3 children, twin girls and a boy." I chuckle along with him, looking up at the crisp white ceiling. "But it turned out he was a shit kisser and only wanted to see my bed."

"I can still remember the black eye you gave him for that." Tommy grins, almost proudly.

"Deserved it, knob." I shake my head as he snickers before pulling me into him with the arm under me, curling me into his side, leaving the cracked open window to tickle my bare back with soft gusts of air.

"You're so violent." Tommy mumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to my hairline.

"Only to those that deserve it, which is a lot." I explain, before looking up at him. "So I can see how you got confused in perceiving me as a violent person, it's okay, Tom."

He send me an annoyed look as his fingers trace my back.

"You're so annoying, I've never met someone who annoys me so much." Tommy shakes his head, but despite his words his fingers stay consistent in tracing my back, running over my scars and smooth skin.

"You love it." I grin up at him.

All he does is grunt in response.

We lapse into a comfortable silence, with my head rested on his shoulder and my body pressed against his side whilst he has his arm wrapped around me, almost sending me to sleep again with his soft hands tracing my body.

"I can't believe you took a bullet for me." Thomas breaks the silence, running his fingers over the scar in my back.

"Only by accident." I reply, still slightly pissed off, making Tommy chuckle.

"Well if you hadn't moved I'd be dead." He states, looking up at the ceiling and easy smile on his face.

"And to think that you thought I was joking when it happened and you laughed." I shake my head, not being able help my smile.

I still remember that day as clear as ever.

We were outside the betting den with Arthur and Michael and I went to give Tommy a hug before I said goodbye and left but as we went to embrace each other I got a bullet straight into the back. I originally crashed into him and he thought I was joking before I crashed to the floor and my blood soaked my flowery blouse, that's when the laughter died.

"I said I was sorry!" Tommy claims, sounding anything but sorry. "I took care of you in the end though."

"You tripped as you entered the door, you knob!" I counteract, remembering how I was losing blood rapidly soaking his shirt, and as I was in his arms I laughed when he tripped nearly falling over.

"I was only trying." Tommy pouts, brushing his knuckles against my shoulder.

"Thank you." I breathe a small laugh before pressing a feather like kiss to his collarbone.

"You're not welcome." He jokes, before grabbing his first cigarette of the day.

Rolling out of his arms and onto my side of the bed, I do the biggest stretch known to man along with a loud and long groan. When I open my eyes, Tommy's giving me a look which I only grin at to annoy him, laying my head on my folded forearms as I lie on my stomach; I can't help but sigh as all I want to do I stay in the bed all day, preferably with him, not that I'd ever tell him that.

"Want one?" Tommy asks, offering his cigarettes to me.

"You know I don't smoke before 11." I tell him.

"I still don't get why." He shakes his head, exhaling the smoke.

"Habit." I shrug, knowing that it doesn't make any sense but I still do it anyway.

Running my fingers through my hair, I glance at my wardrobe, knowing that I should get ready sooner than later. Shuffling up onto my knees, I make my way over to Tommy's side of the bed as my wardrobe is situated on the left side of the room, I swing my leg over his, taking a brief pew on his thighs.

"You need your hair cut." I note, combing through his slight bed-head hair with my slender fingers.

"I know, but someone keeps putting it off." Tommy drawls, sending me a brief look be for he taps off the ash from his cigarette.

"It's not my fault that you come over to do it but you end up doing me instead." I chuckle, and he smiles.

"What can I say, it's just more fun."

I roll my eyes with a fond a smile before I go to get off Tommy's lap and venture out of this unbelievably comfortable bed but Tommy stops me by placing his hands on my hips, locking me in place.

"Yes?" I raise an eyebrow.

Tommy presses his lips against mine, pulling me in for a sensual, gentle morning kiss which leaves me breathless and wanting more. So much more. His touch is softer than ever as he cups my face in one hand and trails the other over the skin of my waist.

"That's all." Tommy shrugs, brushing his nose against mine with a small smile.

I mirror his smile and capture his lips one last time before I finally get out of bed, making my way over to my wardrobe and pull both doors open, my eyes darting over the hangers.

Picking out a dark dress with bright coloured flowers that has slight and subtle bell bottom sleeves, I shimmy into that before I make my way across the room to look out the window.

"Aw, it looks like it's going to rain." I frown, closing the window.

Tommy puts out his cigarette and gets out of bed, joining me at the window. "When doesn't it?"

"True," I shrug, then turn my back to Tommy. "Can you do me up?"

"Mhm." He hums and begins to do the buttons of my dress up.

"Thank you." I flash him a grateful smile and make my way over towards my vanity to do my make up as Tommy starts to change into one of the handful of suits that he leaves at my house.

This has sort of become the norm for us, Tommy spends the night, we spend a little too much time in bed in the morning until we ultimately have to get ready do the day and we have some banter whilst we get dressed and ready, the friendly banter is usually halted with kisses that make me feel warm inside as well as make my toes curl which always throws me off with how we can go from being best friends to acting like a couple in seconds.

I guess we are called friends with benefits.

Then we go downstairs and I make him breakfast, we talk about anything that's going on around us, business or people before our day starts and as soon as my front door swings open, we resort back to being best friends like we've always been, as if the night before didn't happen.

It didn't start like that.

At first it was strictly just sex. He'd only stay for a couple hours unless I really wore him out and he'd stay the night as much as he didn't particularly want to. We were kind of keeping it a secret from ourselves, reserving it strictly for behind closed doors, you wouldn't of suspected a thing; we slowly began moving forward, we stayed the night more, touches weren't just for nightfall anymore, and we knew where we stood with each other.

We don't refrain from showing each other affection anymore. Before this all happened Tommy and I would go through phases of giving each other affection but now it's different. I'd place a lot of money down for a bet to see if Tommy could walk past me without brushing his hand over my waist or back; he just subconsciously does it every time.

Sometimes there are moments where Tommy will be speaking with someone across the room or there's a family - even though I'm not family - meeting, and all I wanna do is just kiss him.

"You look nice." Tommy comments, coming up behind me as I'm putting some earrings in in front of my vanity mirror, bowing down to look at what I'm doing.

"Thank you." I reply as Tommy wraps his arms around my waist and leans down to press his chin to my shoulder blade, looking at me through the mirror. "You look alright."

Tommy flashes me a boyish smile before pecking the skin showing through the little triangle cut out in the back of my dress.

***

"See you tomorrow." I send Polly a smile when she makes her way out of the workplace.

"Bye, love." She mirrors my smile and closes the door behind her, leaving just a few Peakys peaking around.

Casting my eyes back to my desk, I carry on with my important task at hand before it swallows me whole.

As time goes by I sink further into my chair, the lights get softer as more people leave and my workload goes down. A loud groan disrupts my flow and it sounds like it's coming from Tommy's office.

Pushing my chair out, I head over Tommy's way not bothering to knock and I find him leaning back in his chair, looking stressed and defeated. His head whips up to look at me, his hard eyes softening when he sees it's just me.

"Why's it so dark in here?" I raise an eyebrow, noting the few lamps that are on in here, casting the room in a subtle orange glow when I walk towards him.

"Hurts my eyes." Tommy grumbles and I round his desk, taking a seat on his lap, his hand grazing my ass in the process.

"What's got you so gloomy?" I enquire, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw, feeling some tension release from his body as he settles into me.

"Just so much to do, so little time." Tommy replies with a soft sigh, placing his hand on my thigh and with his other hand he brushes some hair that got caught on my lipstick before he settles it around me.

"Seems that's how life's going these days." I mumble softly, sweeping the hair off of Tommy's forehead, causing him to close his eyes momentarily. "You should be careful not to overwork yourself, Tom. You make shit decisions when you're tired."

"What can I say? You tire me out." Tommy says with a fond smirk and slightly hooded eyes.

"You're a piece of work, got to put you to bed somehow." I fire back, matching his smirk.

Pressing my lips to the sensitive skin on his neck, working my way up towards his sharp jawline, Tommy lets out a satisfied sigh, beginning to properly relax. Connecting our lips in a sweet and short kiss, Tommy squeezes my thigh as I kiss him one time, two times, three times before going back to his neck.

"Mr Shelby?" Someone calls from behind the closed door with a hesitant knock.

We're too far gone to really care who it is or what they want so Tommy sighs and grants them entrance as I continue to work my magic on him. In comes a new lower ranked Peaky Blinder who's eyes widen at the sight of us, which it would be shocking to see us right now as everyone assumes we're still just best friends but here I am sat comfortably on Tommy's lap, marking him up.

"What can I do for you, Frank?" Thomas questions, trailing his hand up my thigh.

This poor boy is speechless, not knowing how to react and he looks like he wants to get out of this room as soon as possible.

"Uh, I just came in here to tell you that I've uh finished everything you asked me to do and it uhh all went smoothly." Frank states with anything but confidence.

"Great, thanks." Tommy responds, tilting his head to the side to give me more space.

Frank escapes the room as soon as possible and I chuckle at the hard working boy. We both know that he'd never utter a word to anyone about what he saw, that's why we didn't freak out. The boy want to go up in this company and he'll do anything to please anyone higher than him; he's too gentle and easily persuaded for this world.

"Is that everyone gone?" Tommy asks me.

"Should be." I confirm with a small nod.

"Perfect."

The next thing I feel is Tommy's hand creeping up my skirt.

***

"What?" Tommy utters, staring at a lower ranked Peaky Blinder with an ice cold stare.

"It's not my fault! I tried to get him to agree but---"

"Not your fault? This whole plan went down the drain because of you!" Tommy states, not believing the man.

"He had a gun to my head, what was I supposed to do?!" Matthew asks outraged.

"You should taken someone fucking with you, not just thought that you knew best! You need a wake up call because if you want to remain in this company you should know that that shit doesn't fly around here. Could've taken John, Arthur, Cora, fuck, even Michael for fuck sake, not just make decisions as you go along." Thomas retorts, frustrated beyond belief as he rubs his hands over his face.

"What's all the shouting about?" Polly questions as she comes up beside me from being in another room.

"Mathew fucked up and gave away Tommy's plans and shit, along with some other stuff that i don't quite know the details of, so Tom's losing his shit." I fill her in, looking up at her from where I'm sitting and she's standing.

"How the fuck did that happen?" She asks, confused.

"He ran into some trouble on the way or something, I'm not sure, I only came in half way through." I take an unsure guess.

"Men." She shakes her head, letting out a sigh.

"Boys." I correct, making her cackle as she turns to move further into the room.

"I don't need a babysitter, and I sure as hell am not gonna take a female with me." Mathew states in defence, his so called manhood damaged by the thought of a woman being able to do his job better than him.

Tommy huffs a small laugh.

"I wear heels bigger than your dick!" I joke from across the room, not taking his serious comment seriously.

"Just get out of my sight before I force you to." Tommy huffs, turning around and heading up to his office, not being gentle with the door as he closes it behind him.

"I'll go talk to him." I roll my eyes, getting up out of my chair, grabbing the knife from off my desk with me. "And you..." I start, showing Mathew my weapon. "Try not to be a sexist twat next time you're even vaguely threatened by a woman. We hold a lot more power than you can, so remember that next time." I give him a sly wink as I twirl the extremely sharp knife around my fingers.

Heading into Tommy's office, I lean against the door after I close it, watching Tommy lean over his desk, head hung low, tension present in his muscles.

"What is it with people not sticking to the plan?" Tommy grumbles, not bothering to turn around and face me.

"Some people think they know best, I guess." I say, coming up behind him and wrapping my arms around his waist, feeling some tension leave his body.

"He's my employee, this is not what I'm employing him for. I'm not paying him to fuck up." Tommy shakes his head as I press my cheek against his back.

"I know." I say, knowing he doesn't really want me to say anything, he just needs comforting and someone to vent to.

"This whole plan has gone to shit, I've spent weeks trying to perfect it, and the easiest task got fucked." He huffs.

"You shouldn't of trusted him to it, the man can't even tie a tie." I state, looking out of the window.

"I just thought I'd give him a chance, a try, whatever, but I shouldn't of." Tommy replies, lifting his head up.

"You learn from these things, got to know where you stand with the people around you." I tell him, moving my hands from around his waist to hooking under his shoulders.

"I guess, but I just expected more from him." Tommy responds.

And so I let my best friend vent some more, not just about this incident but anything that's on his mind, only replying when I feel the need to, and I think it worked because he's not all worked up anymore, the tension has dropped in his body, and he seems at peace.

"Thank you." Tommy utters, taking my face in his hands.

"For what?" I breathe a small laugh, holding onto his forearms.

"For just always being there for me, day or night, for the big things and the small things, I don't know how I could ever thank you enough." He says, stepping into my bubble, looking more sincere than ever.

"You do the same for me, that's more than enough." I assure, looking deep into his deep blue eyes. "Thank you for being my best friend."

Tommy smiles a small smile, before giving me a kiss, pulling me impossibly close to him, both of our smiles growing.

***

Glancing over towards the clock on the bedside table, seeing the time reads 6:30, I've got a long day ahead of me and I need to catch up on quite a few things as I seem to be slacking because I've been spending all my time with the duvet hogger to the left of me.

Granted it's not my house or room so I have no claim on it, but I seem to spend more time here than my own house; it feels more like home here, anyway.

Letting out a quiet yawn, I look over at Cora next to me, seeing how she's dead to the world looking effortlessly gorgeous whilst she's fast asleep. Her dark hair is splayed out on her pillow, her long eyelashes resting on her cheeks, and her bare shoulders are poking out of the duvet, with a small sun spot shining on her, and she just looks so pretty.

It feels weird not waking up next to her nowadays, it feels so natural seeing her warming up the other half of either mine or her's bed.

Sitting up, I shuffle out of bed and start to get dressed and I can't help but think of how I could get used to this.

Beginning to get ready for the day without waking up Cora, I don't bother with breakfast as I just don't have the time. Doing a once over in the mirror, I head over to Cora who's half awake to let her know that I'm leaving.

"Cora, lovie." I say softly, placing my hand on her exposed arm.

"Hm?" She hums, giving me a peak of her green eyes as she purses her lips briefly.

"'M gonna head into work now, I'll see you later on, eh?" I inform, watching her slowly wake up.

"Okay, have fun." Cora wishes, readjusting the sheet on her bare chest.

"Oh I'll try." I joke, brushing some hair away from her face with a fond smile. "I'll see you later." I tell her, planting a quick kiss on her lips.

She chuckles.

"Look at us, like an old married couple, who'd of thought?"

"Terrifying." I laugh, asking her laugh as I leave the room with a smile on my face that stays on my face until I open the front door, and as I'm walking to work I can't help but think that that doesn't sound so bad.

Leaning back in my chair, I grab a cigarette and flick my lighter against the end, quickly exhaling what I inhale before clearing my throat a little.

"I look forward to what the future holds for us, Mr Shelby." Mr Cliffo states, clearly chuffed with the way this meeting went.

"As do I, Mr Cliffo, as do I." I reply, wanting to get him out of my office as soon as possible as I've still got so much to do today.

"You've got a nice thing going on here, great business attitude, trust worthy co workers, it seems like your family really has its heart in this company." Mr Cliffo drawls, looking around the room.

"Yes, all of us here believe in this company and always want to strive closer towards our goals and ambitions." I nod, bringing my cigarette to my mouth again.

"I have to ask as curiosity has gotten the best of me, where's the woman that usually attends our meetings?" Mr Cliffo questions, and I sigh, it seems like everyone takes interest in my best friend nowadays.

She's extremely captivating and has a mysterious aura to her, Cora just has this way of drawing you in and making you want to know as much about her as possible.

"Busy." I inform, watching him carefully, how he has a ghost of smile on his face and seemingly looking back on his few interactions with her.

"I've missed her little quips and ideas." He tells me.

Widening my eyes as I let out an exasperated huff, I stand up and head towards the door, hopefully giving him the hint to get the fuck out of my office.

Which he does, so he stands up whilst doing the buttons of his blazer up, approaching me by the door.

"Pretty little thing she is." He says fondly, but not in a creepy way just a genuine compliment.

"She's certainly a head turner." I nod, not being able to deny it.

"Well, I must get going, errands to run." Mr Cliffo states and opens the door. "I'm sensing a promising future here, Mr Shelby."

"I'll look forward to it." I say, escorting him out to hurry him up.

We enter the main room where everyone seems to be, the shouting across the room and bustling noises greet us.

"Have a good day, Mr Shelby." Mr Cliffo bids and we shake hands briefly before he leaves, leaving me to head into John's office to relay some information about the meeting I just had.

"Good meeting?" John questions as I lean against the door frame.

"As good as a meeting with Mr Cliffo can go." I half joke, folding my arms.

"Still a boring middle aged fuck?" John laughs, dropping his pen.

"More of less." I confirm with a small chuckle.

I'm half way through telling John about what happened and our plans when there's a commotion on the other side of the room. I look over my shoulder and find Cora pinning Mr Cliffo against the wall with the knife that she keeps in her stockings under his chin

He looks sheepish, slightly terrified, and completely taken of guard whilst she looks dangerous, pissed off and not the slightest bit hesitant.

"What the fuck is goin' on?" John enquires, joining me in the doorway. "Fuck yeah, I love when she brings the knives out." He practically cheers for her.

"Touch me or any of the woman in here again and you won't see the next sunrise." Cora promises, and in some weird way I can't help but smile a little as she looks so natural at this.

"What's some woman gonna do?" Mr Cliffo attempts to belittle her in order to save his so called manhood.

That's not what he was saying about her earlier.

Cora sharply brings her knee to his crotch making him pale and let out an agonising groan. The impact enough to make any man wince.

"First time a woman's touched your dick in years, is it?" She taunts, pushing the knife into his skin.

He can't get any words out, clearly in too much pain.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" She all but smirks. "Get out of here before you do something you'll regret." Cora states and Mr Cliffo stumbles out of the door, no doubt planning to avoid this building for the rest of his life.

"Fucking hell, I learnt the day I met her not to fuck with Cora Witton and I'm still scared of her." John tells me, subtly interlacing his hands over his crotch making me breathe a laugh.

"Ladies." Cora grins at the women who she just protected from Mr Cliffo, and they mirror her smile.

"She may be small but she will hurt you." I comment watching her tuck her knife back in her stocking, not caring that people can see.

"No hesitation." John adds before he goes back to his desk.

"What the fuck were you thinking doing business with him?" Cora questions as she comes up to me, not mad just curious.

"We've worked with him before, thought I'd take it further." I shrug.

"And after each meeting he grabs my ass." She rolls her eyes, mirroring my folded arms.

"That's him?" I raise an eyebrow, surprised.

"Kinda." She nods, widening her eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't know, lovie." I say softly before kissing her cheek breifly. "This is why I need you in my meetings, give me honest and better judgement."

"Speaking of which, business is done and dealt with, Finn and Isiah are just finishing it up." Cora informs.

"Did it go smoothly?" I question, staring down at her.

"More or less." She nods and she's about to explain before Michael calls her over. "I'll tell you later." Cora tells me, gently fixing my tie before she heads over to Michael.

"You're close." John states, a teasing tone creeping into his voice along with the growing smirk.

"Fuck off." I grumble and leave his doorway, entering mine.

***

"Hi." Cora sings when she enters my office, an unfamiliar baby on her hip.

"Who's this?" I question, leaning back in my chair.

"My neighbour's son." She says, tucking some blonde hair behind the baby's ear.

"It's illegal to take people's children, Cora." I tell her, smiling when she rolls her eyes.

"My neighbour needed someone to watch him for like 15 minutes." She informs, sitting down in the chair opposite me, situating the young boy on her lap who's fascinated with the bracelet on her wrist.

"What's his name?"

"Ronnie."

"Is this the neighbour that complained about the noise?" I ask, with a cheeky smirk

"Yeah, I still can't look them in the eye." She bashfully answers, smiling through the pain.

I laugh as I look back on that experience, it traumatised her so much that we did all our rendezvous on my house for the next month until people started getting suspicious so we went back to her house most of the time.

"You do a lot of things, Cora, yet you can't look your neighbour in the eyes because they heard us one time." I state, amused.

"Uh, I highly doubt it was just the once." She confidently claims.

"Why don't you just move somewhere more remote?" I suggest, already knowing the answer.

"I can't! I love my place, you know that." Cora replies, readjusting Ronnie on her lap. "Isn't that right, Mr Ronnie?" She coos.

I rest my chin on my palm, hiding my smile behind my knuckles. She looks like such a natural with him and seeing her with a baby makes a weird thought come into mind and I can't help but entertain that thought.

Half of me and half of her, dear god help the child who's cursed with that.

A sarcastic and cocky bastard riddled with trauma and seemingly never ending problems.

I'm not planning on having a child with Cora ever, but the idea is entertaining and gives me an odd feeling.

She'd be an amazing mum, she would do anything for anyone that she loves, and to receive her love is one of the greatest things in the world. As I'm looking at her now, I want some of that.

I'd like a beautiful baby who's half me and half her.

"What you daydreaming about, Shelby?" Cora brings me out of the thoughts I'd never utter to her.

"Nothing." I shake my head, and try to busy myself with the work in front of me.

"In all the years I've known you, Tommy, there's always something in your head." Cora says knowingly, a teasing smile creeping on her face.

"Not true." I deceive.

"I'll find out, some day, I always do."

Not even over my dead body.

"Are you coming over tonight?" She questions, crossing her legs.

"Depends, do you want me to?" I retort, looking over at her.

"I think you know the answer to that." Cora tells me, meeting my eyes, a sly glint prevalent in her eyes.

"No?" I guess.

"Of course I do." She chuckles, her smile lighting up the room.

"Tell you what, I'll finish this in the next... 20 minutes/half an hour then we'll head over to your flat, and see where the evening takes us." I suggest, despite the fact that I still got at least a third of work to do today but this girl just does things to me.

"You and I both know exactly where the evening will take us." Cora laughs, running her hand through her hair.

"The sooner we're out of here, the sooner we can get there." I reply, sending her a knowing look.

"Sounds like a plan." Cora grins, gathering Ronnie before leaving the room.

***

"Ready?" I ask, brushing my hand over Cora's shoulder as I walk past her.

"Mhm, just need to give this to Michael." She hums, getting out of her chair to head over to Michael as I get my coat.

"Where are you two going?" Polly muses, leaning back almost smugly in her chair, a cigarette burning in her fingers.

"Home." I answer, turning to look at her.

"Early for you." Polly acknowledges, looking as if she knows something I don't.

"Maybe so, Pol, maybe so." I nod as Cora walks over towards us.

"Ready?" She questions and I nod before I guide us out of here by draping my arm over her shoulders, opening the front door, seeing its beginning to rain. "Shit, I didn't bring a coat." Cora pouts.

"I did." I smugly say, stepping outside and she tugs at the sleeves of her dress until she steps out, too.

We begin to walk the 15 minute walk to Cora's place, chatting about random things on the way, the rain only getting heavier; luckily we're sheltered by the roofs of the houses hanging over the pavement.

"No one annoys me more than my sister, not even you and you're really high up there, like too high." She tells me, making me grin, that's my favourite pastime.

"It's just so easy to do, nothing amuses me more than when you're annoyed." I chuckle, looking down at her annoyed glare and feigning pain when she punches me in the arm, watching her fold her arms to keep herself warm.

"I retract my statement, you annoy me the mos---" she cuts herself off when I drape my coat over her shoulders. "Tommy Shelby, you're so romantic." Cora laughs, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"I try." I mumble, with a small smile as we turn a corner.

"Fuckin' hell, rain's giving no mercy." She points out, and we both look out at the rain that's pelting down, making puddles and leaking through unlucky people's roofs.

Luckily we're sheltered by said roofs; for now.

Grabbing Cora's hand, I pull her out of the protection of the roofs into the rain, making her squeal and laugh which is just music to my ears as I laugh along with her.

"Tommy!" She exclaims and I pull her into my arms, pressing her against me as our hair and clothes get soaked.

"Cora!" I imitate to annoy her, as she wraps her arms loosely around my neck, bringing us even closer. I look into her eyes, seeing how carefree she looks, how much her face is lit up, the smile that always makes me weak in the knees, and how happy she looks, it makes me unbelievably happy. "Kiss me."

"What? Out in open? People can see us, rumours will spread." Cora tells me as she sweeps some soaked hair off my forehead and to the side.

"So? People are already suspicious." I shrug, cupping her cheek. "Kiss me."

She breathes a laugh before pressing her lips to mine, the both of us smiling into it.

I've never smiled as much as the time I spend with this girl.

We stand in the middle of the road, raining cats and dogs on us, intertwined with each other, more than just physically, out in the open.

Pulling back slowly, we take each other in with soft eyes and smiles, and as I'm looking at her right now, all I can feel is love.

I'm in love with my best friend.

Deeply in love.

I could call myself crazy but the way she's looking at me right now and how she's making me feel, I'd say she feels the exact same.

The words are on the tip of my tongue, aching to be said but I'm not brave enough, so I settle with kissing her again instead.

I'm scared to the bone but I'm also kind of revelling in it as it's a new feeling and fuck does it feel good.

"You look pretty in the rain."

"As do you."

***

After a successful business move that we've all been hard at work on for the past month, that called for a celebration, right? Which is why we're in The Garrison this evening, nestled in the private room full of Shelbys, Grays, and a few other Peakys including myself.

Which is predictably chaos.

"To business." Michael toasts, holding his drink up.

"To business." We all toast, clinking glasses.

"Michael, for fucks sake, you've made that toast like 10 times tonight." John groans, rubbing his forehead clearly exasperated.

"I'm a little drunk, and you keep joining so you're all as bad as me." Michael states, and there's some truth to his words.

We're all a little drunk, some more than others. Not to name names or anything but I'm definitely looking at Arthur, Finn and possibly Polly, not to mention Michael. The rest of us are tipsy, definitely feeling the buzz in our systems, but not off our face.

Although that might change as the night goes on.

"To business!" Arthur vindicates, and I groan, making Tommy chuckle.

"On behalf of my family, I am so sorry." Tommy jokes from beside me.

"What is it with you Shelbys and your liquor?" I question, leaning my head on his shoulder as I look at him.

"Born with it in our bloodstreams." Tommy tells me, brushing his fingertips against my arm as his arm is draped around the back of my part of the booth.

We're kind of in our own bubble in the corner, occasionally piping up with a quip or an opinion but we're mainly talking to each other like we've always done in these sort of circumstances.

"I assume you came out of the womb with a cigarette too, right?" I tease, crossing my legs.

"Yeah, the midwife was waiting with a match." He jokes with a small laugh, his smile staying on his face.

"I can't imagine you as a child. Of course I've known you since we were in year 9, and I'd seen you around a few times in secondary school, but to imagine you as an 8 year old is really hard." I tell him, smiling at the thought.

"Well first of all I was adorable, let's get that out of the way." Tommy states, trying to conceal his smirk.

"You still are!" I tease, earning myself a blank look.

"The ladies loved me." He continues.

"Even with your bad haircut?" I laugh, I've heard so much about his haircuts in the past that family members did for him.

"That's what brought them in, you whore." Tommy laughs which makes me laugh.

"Of course, all that extra hair just propelled these so called ladies to you."

"Exactly." He confirms as if it's obvious. "I've heard stories from your childhood from your family or partners." Tommy informs, a mischievous look in his eyes

"You know only what I want you to know."

"You're forgetting that I know every single thing about you, everything." Tommy says, nudging his knee against mine.

"I highly doubt that, every single thing? Really?" I question, nudging him back.

"Yeah."

"How old was I when I stopped hating you?" I test him, turning slightly to look at him.

"Trick question, you never stopped." Tommy answers, grinning because he knows he's right and I huff. "Yet you still suck my dick almost every night." He mumbles, making me punch him which only makes him laugh.

"I don't hear you complaining." I retort.

"I'd never." Tommy shakes his head. "Why don't we go back to your place and I'll show you how appreciative I am." He suggest, placing his hand on my thing under the table.

"Don't you want to celebrate with your family?" I question, looking over at everyone who's more or less plastered.

"Lovie, you are my celebration." Tommy tells me fondly, tucking some hair behind my ear.

This is the thing with Tommy. He can make you feel so special and make you feel like you're the only person in the room, despite the fact that it's filled with loads of people. He can set off a load of fireworks inside of you without even really trying.

"How about you meet me in the back room in five minutes..." Tommy suggests, sending me a mischievous smile.

"Sounds like a plan." I reply, matching his smile.

"I'm gonna go get more alcohol." Tommy announces, but no one's really listening, and Tommy leaves the room, leaving me alone with his family.

"I'm so glad that I never have to talk to another Bulgarian in my life." Finn says, as I tune into the family's conversation.

"What if you fall in love with one one day?" I question and he turns to me.

"Simply impossible." Finn shakes his head.

"You can't control who you love; you can lie to yourself, deny yourself of it, but it'll always be there." I tell him, sitting up straight ready to go.

"You can definitely control who you love, I can also choose who, when, and where." Finn disagrees, taking a sip of his drink.

"Okay, say you chose to fall in love with the old lady that lives next door to you. Could you do that?" I question, watching him falter as everyone chuckles at him.

"What do you know about love anyway?" Finn asks in a grumble, downing the rest of his drink.

I know a little something about unrequited love.

"I got proposed to." I retort, sending him an obvious look.

"Which you laughed at before walking away from him." He argues, with a laugh.

"Broke the poor guy's heart in front of everyone." Arthur stifles a laugh, refilling his glass.

"Who proposes after 2 years together?" I question, folding my arms.

"Loads of people." John answers, an amused look on his face.

"Shit, maybe I don't know much about love." I join the laughter almost sheepishly.

"I love being in love, it's one of the best feelings in the world." Polly states, leaning back in her chair with a dazed look in her eyes.

"Love is whenever something happens in your life, good or bad, you immediately want to tell them. When you know you can go to them for anything. Knowing you can do anything and they'll always be there for you. When they can always make you laugh, despite anything. Just feeling at home with them, basically. Love is when they're your home." Arthur despite being drunk, eloquently speaks.

My mind instantly goes to Tommy.

He's all of that.

Always has been.

"Love is never far, it's always closer than you think." Polly states, and I look over at her and find that she's already looking at me. Her eyes boring into my soul.

"The only things I love in my life is me and my flat." I announce, and get up to go meet Tommy.

"What about me?" Finn questions, looking up at me with puppy-like look adorning his face.

"Aww." I smile and ruffle his hair. "No."

Opening the door to be greeted with the rest of The Garrison that isn't closed off, I step out and close the door behind me, my eyes scanning the room. Rolling my eyes when I see Tommy talking to some guy at the bar.

He spots me as I approach him, a small smile quirking at his mouth.

"Sorry, I've got some business to attend to." Tommy excuses himself and swiftly yet subtly follows me through the room.

"Is that what I am now? Business?" I tease, as we're out of earshot from anyone around us.

"No, you're a lot more fun than business." Tommy says, grabbing my hand as we push past the doors that lead to the backrooms down the long corridor.

"I don't know, sometimes you get quite excited when things are going well." I tell him, making him laugh which resonates in this empty corridor. "Although---"

I'm cut off by Tommy pressing me up against the wall as he attaches his mouth to mine eagerly. Cupping his face, I match his pace and pull him closer as he buries his fingers in my hair and pins me against the wall with his hips.

"You're so pretty, lovie." Tommy whispers, making me grin.

"So are you." I chuckle, knowing how much he hates when I call him pretty despite the tiny blush that flushes his cheeks.

"You just love to remind me that you're my best friend, don't you?" He asks with a smile.

"Yeah." I laugh and kiss him again before Tommy begins to guide us to a more private area as our kiss begins to heat up and hands are roaming.

The door slams against the wall as we enter a storage room that is surprisingly clean, the heavy wooden door closes itself and Tommy and I stumble our way through the room as our bodies heat up until we hit a wall, I let out a breathy moan at the sensation of being able to feel ever curve and dip of Tommy.

Disconnecting our lips, Tommy dips his head to attach his mouth to my neck as I pant, beginning to fiddle with the buttons of my dress.

"Uh, Tommy? Cora?" A voice hesitantly speaks up, and we freeze.

You could hear a pin drop.

I look to my left and see Michael staring at us with wide eyes, looking scared yet too shocked to really form an opinion.

"Hi, Michael." I sheepishly greet as Tommy drops his head to my shoulder in defeat briefly.

"Has this been going on this whole time?" Michael asks after some silence, rubbing his nose.

"What are you even doing here anyway, Michael?" Tommy asks, turning to face him.

"I was uh... meeting a friend." Michael says. "Not your kind of friend though."

I look past him and see the small container splayed out on some stacked up pallets. "Friend, really?"

"Yep." He nods, inhaling sharply as he refuses to look us in the eyes.

"Not doing lines off old rotting pallets?" I suggest, putting my weight on one foot.

"To--- Who are you to judge me when you guys are fucking or whatever under people's noses?" Michael accuses, acting out. "Has this been going this whole time? You've been sneaking around for years?"

"What does it matter to you?" Tommy and I say simultaneously.

"Are guys together or what?" Michael questions, looking between us.

Tommy and I look at each other, not being able to come up with an answer.

"How does it concern you with what we do privately?" Tommy questions, looking pissed.

"I don't know about priva---"

I cut Michael off as I push him against the wall, swiftly pulling my knife out and holding I under his chin whilst I have my hand pressed against his collar. "You say a fucking word to anyone, your mum, your friends, your butcher, your fucking dentist and you'll be fresh meat." I warn as I look into his blown out eyes. "Understand?"

"Cora---"

"Understand?" I repeat, pressing the blade into his skin.

"Yes, I won't utter a word!" Michael conforms, keeping eye contact.

"Good." I grin, and affectionately clap his cheek. "Tell your mum I'll be in late tomorrow." I inform as I put away my knife before stepping back to Tommy, who runs his hand down my back and rests it on the small of my back.

"We're trusting you, Michael." Tommy tells him, giving him a stern look before we head out the door.

"Stay off the snow will you, Michael?" I suggest over my shoulder before the door slams shut.

"You're so violent, like my little weapon." Tommy teases, intertwining our fingers and I squeeze his hand lightly.

"How much do you trust him?" I question, as we walk down the long corridor.

"As long as we've got you around, I'd say 100 per cent." Tommy jokes. "As long as we don't have any interactions like that again, I'd say he's pretty trust worthy."

"Right." I nod, taking in his words. "Back to my house?"

"We're still celebrating, aren't we?" Tommy states, making me chuckle but it's short lived as I can't help but frown when he drops my hand as we enter the open again.

My heart sinks.

"Just wanna remind you that we've got a wedding next week." Tommy says and I roll my eyes.

You forget one important shoot out that's been planned for months and suddenly he has to remind you of every important thing for the rest of time.

"You didn't propose though?" I reply, gliding through groups of people.

"I didn't?" He raises an eyebrow, looking down at me with a small smirk.

"No, you didn't." I shake my head, smiling.

"Oh, shame, you look good in white."

***

"Well Arthur, the big day's come." I say, as I flip my collar up to put my tie on.

"Indeed, it has indeed." Arthur nods, taking a seat on the large ottoman in the middle of the room.

"Our Arthur's finally settling down, eh?" John smirks as he looks in the mirror to do his hair again.

"God help Linda." Finn grumbles, slipping into his blazer.

"Already is." John widens his smirk.

"I don't see any of you getting married so fuck off." Arthur replies, disregarding John.

"To be fair, he's got a point... god can only do so much." I state, tightening my tie and putting my collar down.

"Oi, you can barely keep your woman on the reigns." Arthur retorts, pointing a finger at me, as the others snicker.

"I've not got a woman." I reply although I know who and what they're talking about.

"You know, the girl you're always around." Arthur tells me, and I huff with a small smile at their tomfoolery.

"You mean the girl who punched you and you practically cried when she was like 14?" I ask, pulling my cigarettes out.

"She'd fucking kill you if she knew you were talking about her like this, Arthur." Finn says, smirking.

"Even if she were my so called woman, not that you'd ever be able to make her conform to that title, she cannot be owned. Not just because of feminism but she's too wild for that, she'd also punch me and that hurts." I state, lighting my cigarette.

"I think it's the other way 'round." John muses, gesturing with his cigar. "She's got you on the reigns."

"Have any of you lot seen Cora?" Polly asks as she bursts into the room, dressed in a fancy dress.

"No."

"Not seen her all morning."

"Not seen her since this morning."

"Me either."

"Fuck sake. She can do everything but turn up on time." Polly grumbles, shaking her head. "Well come on then. Time's getting on and the bride won't wait forever."

We all exit the room one by one, following Polly through the building but we stop short when we see Cora stepping into the entrance hall, looking up at the ceiling as she lights a cigarette, showcasing the thin but long scar on her throat that gave me nightmares when it happened.

"Shelbys!" She beams when she sees us, taking a drag of her cigarette, looking temptingly appetising.

"What time do you call this, Witton?" Polly barks, sending daggers Cora's way.

"There's plenty of time! Don't worry about it." Cora waves Polly off but all I can focus on is how good she looks.

Her dress has a few layers of thin, see through tulle with flowers embroidered into it, the underneath is a champagne sort of pink coloured dress that shines through subtly, the length sinks all the way down to her feet, it's cinched in at the waist with a controversial slit at the side showcasing her leg, and her sleeves are made of the same see through tulle that hangs off her shoulders to tickle her elbow in waves. Her hair is pinned up with a handful of thick curls dangling around her face, and her make up is subtle which really makes her green eyes pop.

She looks like an angel to put it simply.

"Careful, you'll catch flies." John smirks, elbowing me.

I push him back making him knock into Finn which causes him to start an argument.

The art of diversion.

"Nice dress." I comment when she looks over at me.

"Thanks, it has pockets." Cora replies, giving me a demonstration.

"Thought it was supposed to be the bride who's the prettiest today." I state quietly as no one seems to be listening to us.

"Aw, you're too kind." She smiles before pecking my cheek and guiding us towards the church.

***

An around of applause and cheers resonate in the tall church as Arthur and Linda kiss, I can't help but smile at the happy couple.

"How long?" Tommy jokes when he mumbles into my ear.

"Stop!" I laugh, continuing to clap.

"We're married!" Arthur announces as he and Linda turn to face everyone with grins.

Another round of applause goes around the room, mixed with whistles, hoots, and cheers. Arthur and Linda walk down the aisle as a newly wedded couple before everyone slowly begins to follow them for photos outside.

"I can't imagine you getting married." Tommy states when we stand up.

"I'm hurt, Thomas." I reply, shuffling out of the pew.

"You seem too... independent and strong." Tommy digs himself a bigger hole.

"What? So the point of marriage is supposed to break me?" I question with a chuckle.

"No, just the traditional way is that you'd stay at home, looking after the children, cooking or baking, and waiting for your husband to come home." He answers. "And that's not you... but I like that about you."

"I'm never stopping for some man, men don't deserve rights." I shake my head.

"Oh right." Tommy laughs, slinging his arm around my shoulders as we walk down the aisle. "I guess you work with a lot of males so you can say that."

"Thank you, for letting me, a woman, know what I can say and what I'm allowed to say, thank you husband." I joke and he bumps his hip against mine in response.

"The nagging wife part though, you've got that down." Tommy replies, weaving us through people as I lace our hands together with the hand that was dangling in front of my chest from where his arm is draped over my shoulders.

"Fuck off." I laugh, the fresh spring air hitting my face as we enter the outside, gathering at the back of the large group of people posing for photos.

"You love it." He grins before pressing a kiss to my cheek as I laugh.

A flash blinds me momentary, and I inwardly groan.

A few more photos, Tommy and I trying to annoy each other, and laughs later and we head off to the party.

***

"I've known Arthur since I was like 15, it feels weird to watch him get married after all this time." I tell a stranger that I've been talking to for the past 10 minutes.

"I've grown up with Linda, I've not heard the end of this wedding since she was 10." Linda's cousin makes a joke which I fake laugh at, before taking a sip from my flute of champagne. "Are you getting married anytime soon?"

"Oh, no, god no." I shake my head, chuckling.

"Really? Aren't you with Arthur's brother, what's his name? Thomas is it?" She questions.

"Tommy? We're not really together, well we aren't... Thomas is amazing but..."

"But?" She smiles warmly as if she's just done something.

Why aren't we together is the better question, Tommy is everything I've ever wanted, he respects me, makes me feel like I'm more special that I am, is always there for me no matter what, and can make me feel so carefree, I'm in love with him but he's just not.

"But he isn't one for relationships." I answer. "I'm gonna go annoy some of your family, you make me think when I'm here to get drunk. I don't like that."

Her smile falls and I float off towards a group of strangers, ready to judge.

"I heard that the Shelbys shot someone who accidentally bumped into them once." A middle aged man says quietly.

Perfect, this is the group I want to annoy.

"Really? I heard that they give their children guns." A little younger woman matches his tone.

"That's nothing, I heard that they stab children who beg." I cut in, doing this big exaggerated look around the circle.

"I heard that they hurt people who gossip." Polly comes out of no where, and I can't help but smirk at her when she meets my eyes.

"Are you two Shelbys?" A snooty woman questions with a sigh before sipping her drink.

"No." I answer, which isn't a lie.

"I'm Arthur's aunt and she's his brother's girlfriend." Polly states and I glare at her, before tucking my hair behind my ear and subtly flipping her off, which she suppresses a smirk at.

"Oh, I see. You seem like lovely people." Another woman replies with a tight lipped smile.

"We are." I nod.

"If you stay on the right side of us." Polly adds, lighting a cigarette.

"But if you don't, we'll drag you through hell."

"Simple really." Polly shrugs lightly.

"Of course... we're family now, nothing but love." The same woman replies with a nervous laugh.

As Polly makes them more uncomfortable I look over my shoulder at Tommy across the room, who's sitting at a large table with a few people but I don't think he's interacting with anyone really, cigarette and liquor in hand. He gives me a wink which makes me smile, and he gestures for me to come over with a nod of his head.

Leaving the group and Polly, I cross the room all the way to my best friend who takes a drag from his cigarette as I stand behind him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, letting my hands dangle above his chest life a necklace.

"Are you done antagonising Linda's family?" Tommy questions with a tiny chuckle.

"Not yet. They're so judgy." I reply, accepting Tommy cigarette when he offers it to me.

"Where do you think Linda gets it from?" He rhetorically asks.

"You look very pretty." I inform, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead when he looks up at me.

"If I look pretty you must be the prettiest person in the world." Tommy says, fiddling with my hands.

"Always a charmer you Shelbys." I tease.

"Eh we know how to talk the talk." He jokes, squeezing my hand. "Do you wanna dance?"

I look out at the dance floor where all the couples seem to be, it's a little bit crowded but seems comfortable.

"Sure." I nod and Tommy stands up before offering his hand with a boyish smile.

I match his smile and take his hand, Tommy leads us to the dance floor where I place my hand on his shoulder, keeping the other comfortably in his hand, whilst Tommy places his hand on my lower back. The song is quite a fast paced one, so there's no room for a slow dance.

Tommy and I expertly shuffle through the dance floor, him twirling me out every now and then, as we talk and laugh. "Why are old ladies so judgy?"

"I don't know, their better days are behind them and they can't get over that." Tommy offers an amused suggestion.

"I think it's because they---" I cut myself off with a squeal when Tommy surprises me by twirling me out into the dance floor making me laugh. "Give me a warning next time!"

He just smiles down at me as he looks into my eyes. "No, I like making you laugh."

"You always make me laugh, especially with your questionable choices." I tease, squeezing his hand. "I mean what were you thinking letting Finn---"

"I'm not going into this again, he wanted to do it and who am I to say no?" Tommy replies with a light laugh. "That would make both of us a hypocrite."

"We were more mature at the time..."

"Oh really? That's what you call maturity?" Tommy questions amused, as we swiftly move through the crowd as the song begins to end.

"We may have broken a few things but there's no harm done." I state, letting Tommy spin me one last time before a slower song comes on and we match our dancing to the rhythm.

"Sure, no harm done." He mocks me with a laugh, which makes me laugh.

Thomas sways us through the bunches of people as we lapse into a comfortable silence, settling into our own worlds.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, Cora." Tommy tells me, continuing to sway us as he looks deep into my eyes and it feels like he's looking into my soul.

All I can do is smile.

"Yeah? You think?" I chuckle and he matches my smile.

"Mm." He hums, with a nod.

"That's alright, because I think I'm falling in love with you, too." I reply, causing him to break out into the biggest smile.

We pause our moving, standing still amongst all the other couples dancing. Tommy cups my face with his hands and goes to kiss me. "What about your family?" I question, when were mere inches away.

He smiles. "Fuck 'em, they all practically know anyway."

I reply by closing the gap between us, kissing my best friend in the middle of the dance floor as couples dance around us whilst we're stood still, in the midst of his brother's wedding. Tommy's thumb brushes my cheekbone gently as we stand in our own bubble, oblivious to what's going on around us, smiling into our kiss.

"I love you, Cora Witton." Tommy utters, pressing his forehead against mine with a smile.

"I love you, Tommy Shelby." I utter back, kissing him again which makes my toes curl.

"What do you say we finish this dance, get a little drunk, and then go home?" Tommy suggests, tucking some hair behind my ear. "If you can handle Linda's stare that long that is because from where I'm looking, she doesn't look that happy that we stole the spotlight from her on her wedding day." Tommy chuckles, looking over my shoulder at his family.

I look over at them too, seeing how they look shocked yet look like they expected it, and I meet Linda's glare, happy at how I've pissed her off.

"You're such an attention whore." I joke, looking back at Tommy.

"You know it." He smirks and begins to sway us again.

It feels like everything I've ever worked for in my life has led up to this moment. This is what I get after years of struggling, and fuck is it worth it.

"I want this song to play at our wedding."

"Oh, we're getting married now are we?" I chuckle fondly, liking the sound of that.

"If all goes to plan, yeah."

474 notes · View notes

giorno-plays-piano · 3 years

Text

Superstitions and Curses

Pairing: mummy!Bucky Barnes x archaeologist!Reader

Warnings: slight dubcon, obsessive and soft!dark!Bucky, mentions of torture and being buried alive.

Words: 2163.

Summary: It wasn't your first expedition, but pretty much the first time when you had helped to bring an ancient being back from the dead.

P.S. Huge thanks to dear @navegandoaciegas who helped me get inspired again <3

_______________

"Please, let me in."

You clenched the amulet in your hands, nervously staring at the door of a hotel room and hoping he wouldn't enter. Despite the fact that you were an archeologist, a woman who believed in nothing but science, you were ready to pray to all the gods if it would help to keep this creature away.

"I mean no harm to you." His husky, dangerously low voice made you lick your lips as you thought of all the things he whispered in your ear the other night. "Didn't you like the way I treat you, love?"

"It was a spell you put on me!" You furrowed your brows, making a step away from the door and bumping into a nightstand with a loud thud - the bottle of water in top of it fell down to the floor.

"A spell?" The man behind the door chuckled, and you could hear him breathing out loudly as he peered through the crack in the door, his hands pressed against the dark wood. "You know I haven't done anything of this kind. What you felt was the chemistry between us, don't deny it."

It was true. That night when all you wanted was to forget the events of the last couple of days, forget all about the whole reason why you came to this ancient country, you rushed to a bar to get drunk like a fish, hoping the next morning once you'd wake up, it would all be a bad dream and nothing more. That's where you met him, the man who you had seen laying in his grave just a couple of hours before. Of course, you didn't know it was him - he looked like any other man, enough flesh on his bones not to cause any suspicion.

Oh, but it was him. He had followed you in that bar, pretending to be a stranger eager to know you; fooling you, he soon slipped into your room where he made love to you, completely drunk and fallen under his charms. How stupid you were, trusting a complete stranger after what had happened that day.

It was several hours after when you woke up in the night, and the moonlight coming from the window lit the room a little: as you stared at the man sleeping soundly next to you, you saw the ancient symbols on his chest.

The next minute you were out of your room, hoping he wouldn't wake up in the next hour. It would give you enough time to reach the railway station.

Why was he following you? You could understand his reasons since you had pretty much broken his tomb and opened his grave, but why on Earth did he sleep with you? Why didn't he kill you? Was it some kind of a ritual? Despite the fact that you were specializing on local customs and traditions, you have never heard of anything of that kind.

"You can't get rid of me." He murmured behind the door, and you sensed something wicked, resentful in his voice.

"Why can't I? What do you want from me?" You asked on the verge of tears, your arms trembling - you very much doubted the amulet you were holding was of any use to you.

"Shhhh." He cooed softly, feeling you fear and somewhat content with it. "I promise I won't hurt you. Let me in, love. Let me in."

For a couple of seconds you froze, listening to the man breathing softly behind the door. Strangely, you could almost hear his heart beating in his chest as if he really were human, not a rotten corpse you saw in the coffin a couple of days ago. The night you spent together you felt like he was the most tender and affectionate man you had ever met. Why did he do it? What was his purpose? Why were you opening the door for him when he ordered you to do it with that hypnotic voice of his?

You realized he had entered your room once he touched your cheek with his hand, rough fingers brushing against your wet skin. Oh, apparently, you were crying.

"I know it is beyond your comprehension, but please trust me, My Immortal Beloved." He made a step forward as you shriveled and slinked back, staring at his perfectly blue eyes adorned with black kohl. "Do not be scared. Even though it seems horrifyingly wrong to you, things are exactly as they were meant to be."

Despite the fact you had a thousand questions inside your head, the words were stuck in your throat. You couldn't even scream, asking for help. Besides, it would be pretty worthless, wouldn't it? No one could protect you from someone who rose from the dead.

"You were meant to open my tomb and set me free. You were meant to resurrect my body and let my soul return to it."

When you reached the wall, your back pressed to it as if you wanted to slip through the stone, the man had inched closer to you and lowered his hand on your chest, the other one right in front of your face as he moved his hand, drawing a circle in the air with his palm. I see you. You are important to me, a sign of both trust and affection - you had seen it so many times on ancient drawings it was imprinted on your brain.

What? Why was he doing it? Why it was you who set him free? You were just one of a whole team of archaeologists and wage earners. You did nothing special, nothing that differentiated you from others - you weren't the one who physically opened it nor did you read any ancient spells locals were so superstitious about. You were as much in shock as all others when the mummy had suddenly disappeared from the tomb.

At first, even though most of you were people of science, all of you thought of ancient curses and all those archaeologists who had supposedly died from it. Then, when you came to your senses, you thought of the thieves who might had taken the mummy. But then again, although it were the remains of someone very, very important, no treasures were buried with him - apparently, this person had done something terrible when he was alive, especially remembering the curses written on the walls. So why steal just the corpse, then? Without decent care, the bones would crack within minutes of carrying them. Why would thieves want the mummy?

"I want to come back home." You whispered, shivering and averting your eyes.

"I will bring you whenever you want once you swear loyalty to me, love."

You blinked as you stared at his tanned face, symbols painted with gold shining on his temples. It was getting more and more insane with every passing minute.

"Why would I swear loyalty to you?"

"Because I am your Sun, Moon and the Stars in between."

The silence felt heavy, suffocating as you kept looking at the man, not knowing what to say. He was right - you didn't understand a thing. You didn't even know who he was and why you swearing loyalty to him seemed so important so this stranger. The only thing you knew for sure was that he was dangerous, far more dangerous than any other human being - you felt it in your bones.

"Before I d-do that, may I know your name?" You wanted to add something like "Your Majesty", but you had no idea what kind of title the man once had - that is, if he had any at all.

He chuckled, "It would be hard for you to pronounce. But you can call me James, it is the closest you can get."

A part of you was offended - for heaven's sake, you were specializing on this exact area and surely knew how to pronounce ancient names - but the other part of you now wondered how come this being knew a real English name and could actually speak modern language. Surely, he was at least a thousand years old. How come?..

"Why were you buried so disrespectfully?" You started questioning him out loud, furrowing your brows. "This is not my first expedition, but I have never seen a tomb like yours before. No treasures, no name, nothing that could identify you at all."

"The Witch-king, that's how they called me." His handsome face darkened, and the man took a step away, turning his back to you. "The one who had surpassed his high priest and could read the Book of the Dead. Once my chancellors learnt about me practicing the magic of the ancient, they made my priests spread the word to my people, and I have been overthrown. They have tortured me, blinded me, cut off my limbs, and then sealed me away in the tomb when I was still alive. Because of their fear of me and my powers, they condemned me to the worst of fates, and broke the line of kings."

As he kept speaking, his dark long robe fell down to the floor, opening his half-naked tan body to you: you saw two deep scars on his shoulders that still looked raw, horrifying you - the man was telling you the truth. He had been dismembered.

"They have cursed me to stay neither truly dead nor alive till one day somebody would open my tomb and set me free. They have kept the location of my grave a secret, thinking no one would ever discover it in the sand, but they all were wrong. I will suffer no more in that place where not a single ray of light had shone over two thousands of years."

Your head was spinning from all this, and you quietly slid to the floor, your hands in your hair as you tugged on the roots in frustration and fear. For the love of God, was it all true? Did you help resurrect the ancient being that could use some scary black magic and probably kill lots of innocent people? Did he want to drag you along with him once you swear loyalty to him? If you didn't, would he actually murder you?

"But this is of no importance now." The man turned back to you and, suddenly seeing you on the floor, hurried to gently pick you up and place you on a spacious bed, watching you with worry. "I am sorry for I have frightened you, love. I swear this was not my intention."

You had troubles understanding what his intention was, but you kept silent, too scaried to say something to him. You had a dozen thoughts what a creature like him would want to do to people for all his suffering.

You should have left that damn tomb alone when your team found twice more death traps than in any other grave. You read the curses left on the walls, but they only fueled your interest. Of course, you had never been superstitious in your entire life, so you simply disregarded all the signs that now seemed so clear you were ready to slap yourself.

"Why am I important?" You asked in a shaky voice, your eyes trailing down his chest with ancient symbols tattooed on it. "Why spending a night with me? I am just a woman. I have opened the tomb, but I was one of many."

"No, you are special. You won't understand now, not yet, but think of it as your destiny. Your fate is bound to mine."

As he inched closer to you, you finally realized you were almost in bed with a half-naked handsome man resurrected from the dead. Immediately crawling back, your stared at him wide-eyed. No, no, no, whoever he was and whatever he thought your fate was, you didn't want him in your bed the second time! Well, almost. Maybe you wanted a little bit. Just a little.

"S-so, are you going to destroy the country and claim your kingdom again?"

Your words made him laugh as he bared his perfectly white teeth while touching the side of your face.

"Two thousand years were enough to change my priorities. Ruling the world of humans who know nothing of magic isn't interesting to me anymore."

"I see. That's a relief." You murmured, still very uncomfortable with him being so close to you. "Please, can I just leave? There are millions of women, I'm sure you'll find someone more attractive to be your... your concubine."

_____________

"Concubine? I did not have a concubine, and neither did my ancestors." The man tilted his head to the side, looking at you surprised as you were ready to bite yourself for your own stupidity: of course, the rulers of these lands only started having concubines in the fourth dynasty and onwards, James was definitely either from the first or second one. "I can't let you leave, love. You will have to come with me."

Part 2

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @iheartsebastianstan @ninefuckingoneone

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #mcu #mcu fanfiction #yandere

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piratesfromspace · 3 years

Text

The Mechanic (Anakin/Reader)

Anakin Skywalker/Reader, Obi-Wan is also here

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Smut 18+, mechanical arm, Anakin is a little shit, dom/sub undertones, humiliation kink if you squint.

AFAB reader but gender-neutral pronouns MASTERLIST

“A… mechanic??”

“Yes, that’s what I am. A mechanic. The best in town. Isn’t it what you’re looking for?”

Obi-Wan scrunches his nose and turns to the poor clone trooper who had introduced you.

“Are you serious?” he asks in a whisper.

“Do you know how hard it is to find a biomechanics surgeon around here, General? That’s the best I could find.” the trooper seems really tired you notice.

Kenobi brings his hand on his chin, silently thinking for a few seconds.

“I guess they’ll do.”

---

And that’s how you’re recruited for a very special task. When you’re led to their temporary base just outside of town, you thought you were going to be asked to repair a secret-weapon, or some military speeder. Oh Maker were you wrong.

You’re pushed inside of a medical ship, and instead of a speeder, you find yourself face to face with another jedi. He’s sitting on a table, his jedi robe badly torned, already pushed down and bunched on his hips, leaving his muscular torso entirely bare. You would have noticed his perfectly drawn abs if you weren’t distracted by his right arm. From his elbow down, it is entirely made of gold and black metal, with armored panels mimicking the size of his other regular arm, complete with what look like delicate fingers. A mechno-arm. You’ve never seen one quite like it. It must cost a small fortune, and it is definitely custom. But it’s also definitely wrecked.

“So, you’re the biomechanics expert?”

“Mechanic. Just a mechanic. But I know a thing or two about cybernetics.”

“Great.” He says with a cynical tone before making a pause, eyeing you down shamelessly for a tad too long, as you cross your arms and raise an eyebrow at his poor manners. He smirks at your reaction, and cocks his chin up before continuing.

“Well, anyway, I’ll guide you, I know what’s going on with my arm, I just need a helping hand.”

He says that with a lot more confidence than what you would expect from someone his young age, almost condescending - but you can’t really be mad at him, considering the guy has the Force and looks like this. You would be insufferable as well.

Sometimes life is unfair, you think, too bad he chose to become a warrior monk, because you wouldn’t mind tinkering with more than his arm.

You take a deep breath, and just get on with it, starting to work on his prosthetic, following his instructions. Even if he hasn’t all the correct vocabulary, the man actually knows what’s wrong with his arm, and you’re a little bit annoyed at the fact he was right. You would have gladly taught him a lesson, making his cocksure smirk and patronizing tone go away just for a second. Nonetheless, you listen to what he explains, and after a while, you realize you’re just executing his directions without second guessing him, lulled by his warm voice, scrunched over his mechanical arm, your face just inches away from his very human skin.

After an hour, you’re done, and his fingers are back to life, the mechanism slightly buzzing while he lifts his hand to his face, watching with an honest smile as his movements resume. You’re watching as well, mesmerized by the way his metal fingers move with such great finesse. It’s almost surreal when you know the inhumane strength he could deploy thanks to the alloy ligaments, a deadly threat just lying under golden fingertips.

Your gaze switches to his face, and you allow yourself to stare a little. He’s young but the toll of war is already showing, the kindness of his eyes hidden behind a steely veil, a scar running way too close from his right eye. His hair is a mess, long light-brownish locks with a few blond strands. His innocence is long gone, replaced by a mix of fierce resolve and cocky attitude. He’s handsome, you won’t lie to yourself. And his toned body matches his pretty face. Even the mechanical arm adds to his charm. You’re sure some would be repulsed by it, but you’re definitely not. You can’t stop wondering what it’s like for him when he touches something, when he touches someone. And you can’t stop wondering what it’s like to be touched by those fingers, to feel the smooth golden steel on your skin. Would it be warm? Or cold?

You’re pulled out of your daydreaming by a cough. Anakin is now looking at you, and his knowing gaze is making you doubt if he’s reading your mind. There are many rumors about the powers jedi can have, and you suddenly blush at the realization he might actually be.

“Well, thanks, it works fine again.” he says with a falsely natural tone. “But I think I need to run just a few tests, you know, to make sure the sensation is back. Would you like to help me? I warn you, it can be a bit… overwhelming.” He says that as his mechanical hand grazes at your naked forearm, his self-confident grin back on his face, and you can’t miss the sexual undertone of his proposition. The feeling sends chills in your whole body, the metal of his fingertips is definitely cold — at least, for now. You’re a bit taken aback because you weren’t expecting advances from a literal monk, but at the same time you know you’re too curious and too horny already to pass down such an invitation.

“And how can I help?” you ask not so innocently.

“Glad you ask.” he answers, as he hops down from the table, an even bigger grin on his face.

You don’t have the time to realize what’s going on, but he lifts you up and slams you down on the table before climbing back on top of you, resting on his knees, arms caging you.

He hushes you when you want to protest against his manhandling, but you can’t deny the fact it’s turning you on even more. He watches your face intently as his mechanical hand is caressing your cheek, then shifting lower on your throat. He squeezes gently, just to see how you would react, and he’s pleased to hear you gasp at the tiniest of pressure. It’s making you dizzy, the knowledge he could literally crush you if he wanted to, and you’re being amazed at the control he shows instead.

His hand doesn’t stay there for long though, and goes even lower, shortly groping your breast before sliding further down until it stops at the waistband of your pants. He waits a second here, scanning you for any form of approval, before resuming when you thrust your hips slightly up against his palm, letting him know you’re looking for more.

He loses no time, snaking his hand under your pants and in your panties, cupping your cunt. The metal of his fingers is warmer now, thanks to your own body heat, but the feeling is still foreign although not unpleasant. He parts your folds, tracing a finger from your entrance to your clit, spreading your wetness there. The pitiful whine that escapes your lips as he starts circling the bundle of nerves makes him chuckle. He’s visibly enjoying the way you react under his touch.

The smooth steel of his golden fingertips feels like heaven against your sensitive parts, and you already know you won’t last long. He rises a bit, sitting on his heels so he can use his left arm to pin you down, real fingers made of flesh cruelly biting in your hips to keep you in place for what’s coming next.

He stops his ministrations and coats two of his metallic fingers in your juices before sinking them slowly inside of you. You stop breathing as you watch his fingers disappear between your legs with awe. You feel every ridges and bumps of the mechanical knuckles as they slide in and out of you, and when his thumb finds your clit again, you’re glad he’s actually pinning you down, because it’s suddenly too much to handle. Your back arches and your head slams down against the unforgivable steel of the medical table. In other circumstances, you would complain, but you just can’t find a good reason to care right now.

Anakin keeps on moving his fingers, relentlessly bringing you closer to the edge. Your whines are now moans, and he gives you a mean look, mouthing a “shut up”. You almost forgot you were in the middle of a military base, and that anyone could enter the room you were in at any time now. You clamp your hand on your mouth, trying desperately to keep quiet as the bastard is slowing his pace but increasing the pressure of his touch, crooking the fingers inside of you to rub against that perfect spot that makes you see stars. It’s a matter of seconds before you come with a muffled whimper, eyes closed, hips rising up from the table. He doesn’t stop until you push his hand away as the pleasure-pain of overstimulation settles in.

“It looks all good, thanks for helping.” he says with a cocky little smile, while you try to catch your breath. He wipes his mechanical arm on your pants, like it’s just a random rag, and you’re too shocked by the sheer audacity of the man to think of a retort.

You barely have the time to get back on your feet, that the door of the room is sliding open, revealing a visibly displeased Obi-Wan.

“You’ done yet?”

You open your mouth to answer but Anakin is quicker.

“Yes, Master. We were just making sure the repair is efficient.”

He says that with his usual grin and while looking the older jedi dead in the eye. You wonder how he managed to do that when some of his fingers still smell like you. You’re also jealous of the fact his crumpled robe is making a decent job at hiding his hard-on, while the wet patch on your pants where Anakin wiped his fingers is all too visible.

“It seems your hand is working perfectly again, Anakin.”

The tone of Obi-Wan's voice is half-amused, half-annoyed when he says that, his eyes on you, rather than on his padawan. You wonder if he knows what just happened, causing your face to grow hot under his suspicious gaze.

“Just ask the trooper outside for your payment” he adds bluntly, before asking Anakin to follow him for a briefing where they’re both needed.

As they exit the room, the younger jedi turns to you.

“I know I can count on you if I ever need more repairs. I’ll make sure to request you, personally.”

Your face is getting even more red as you mumble a good-bye to the two warriors.

The paycheck was generous, but honestly? You would be lying to yourself if you would not admit you’d do it all over again for free.

#anakin imagine #anakin x reader #star wars fanfiction #anakin smut #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #gender neutral imagine

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

1. Siren Indruck NSFW, Duck is hauling supplies for the small town of Kepler on a tiny boat. Due to dangerous storms, Duck takes a longer but safer and less traversed route. He doesn’t know he’ll be passing through a Siren’s territory. A siren who is looking for a strong and sturdy mate

Here you go!

Duck never tells anyone what he finds on the beach that day.

He’s fourteen, looking for useful flotsam and jetsam tossed onto the sand by an ongoing storm. What he finds is an empty boat and a merman, silvery tail impaled with a spear in a piece of driftwood. Each time he tries to free himself, he winces and is unable to pull the weapon from his body. When he sees Duck, his red eyes widen and he bares sharp teeth in a hiss.

“It’s okay” the boy kneels in the bloody sand, “I ain’t gonna hurt you. Or, uh, this’ll hurt for a sec, but it’ll be better than tryin to ease it out bit by bit.” He grabs the end of the fishing spear and pulls. The merman shrieks, quickly clamping his hands across his mouth as Duck pulls his handkerchief from his pocket to bandage the wound.

“There, you should be able to-”

The creature is gone with a whip of his tail, sliding down the sand and into the waves. As Duck stands, a strange song floats from the foam for the briefest instant. A seasoned sailor can tell a siren from a normal mer on sight; Duck has never been to sea. It’s weeks later that he wonders what events resulted in the wounded siren and an empty boat.

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

Any other day, Duck would put off this run until the black clouds no longer hung over the horizon. But the supply run last week didn’t come, so the isolated, coastal town of Kepler is running low on, among other things, the medicine needed to treat an illness spreading from house to house. He could put this off until tomorrow, but he won’t sleep well tonight if he does.

The boat loaded, he starts out to sea under unfriendly skies. Today is a day to follow the coastline and then circle Greenbriar Island to reach Kepler, rather than trying for a straight shot. It’ll double his travel time, but it’s far safer in a storm and no one but a few locals know how to navigate it. Duck takes this route once or twice most years. This summer alone he’s had to take it six times, with today making a seventh. The abnormal number of storms weighs on the minds of coastal residents. Duck tries not to obsess over it, given that it’s solidly out of his control and there’s no use fussing over wind and rain; there’s only getting through them.

Halfway through his journey, a rogue swell catches the underside of the boat and drags it along a rock, springing a leak in the hull. He ties off on a thin spire of stone, clambering onto a rock to try and repair the damage. It’s not a big leak, but it’ll be trouble if he lets it go.

As he’s laying awkwardly with water lapping up his legs, a human head rises from the water a few feet from him. Silver hair, red eyes and, when it smiles, very sharp teeth. Harmless mermaids have teeth much like his own, which means he’s alone in the ocean with a fucking siren.

Duck’s learned many things since that day on the beach; how a song can paralyze a man better than poison, how the bite marks on the skin of certain bodies that wash ashore are called siren kisses

The siren begins swimming closer. Duck sighs, “If you’re gonna drown and eat me, can you do it on the way back?”

Red eyes blink, confused, but the siren stays where he is.

“If I don’t make it to Kepler, lotta folks’ll get sick, some will even die. And I don’t think you got much use for medicine and canned food.”

The siren shakes his head.

“Glad you understand.” Duck finishes his repairs under watchful eyes. At one point, the siren swims all the way to the rock Duck is perched on, resting his chin on his hands, as if enjoying the view.

Duck scrambles back into the boat the moment he’s done, but no cold fingers try for his ankles and no splash announces something lunging upwards after him. A cautious glance as he starts the engine finds the siren sitting on the rock, silver-blue tail still half in the water. When he notices Duck looking, he waves.

The rest of the journey goes as planned, the relief on folks faces when Duck docks worth the peril. When he reaches the siren’s territory on his return, no song tempts him. A lithe shape keeps pace with the boat, fin breaking the surface now and then. When he hits open water, the siren turns back, disappearing from view.

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

There are sex dreams, and then there’s whatever the fuck Duck is having right now. Fingers stroke his hair, cling to his shoulders. Kisses coat his face and a voice whispers his name as the speaker offers themself to him again and again. He sees himself tangled with a man, face always just out of focus, who spreads his legs and lips so Duck can sink himself into the heat of his body. The dream is endless and he doesn’t care, doesn’t ever want to wake up.

Saltwater in his lungs renders that desire useless. He snaps back to consciousness as another wave hits him; he’s up to his neck in the cove below his house.

“The fuck?” It’s only his footprints visible in the moonlight in the sand, so no one dumped him here.

“Oh dear.”

“Jesus!” Duck stumbles back as glowing eyes peer around a rock. It’s the siren from yesterday, swimming purposefully as Duck wades backwards.

“Look, uh, when I said I wanted you to wait to eat me, I wasn’t bein serious. Or, uh, I was, but I meant I didn’t want to be eaten ever, not just then. It was a, uh, a joke.”

“I am aware.” The siren stops as Duck topples on his ass in the shallow water, “and I am sorry. I, ah, I did not mean to lure you from your bed. I was not aware my mindless singing was enough to wake you. In most futures, you slept until dawn.”

“Uh huh, sure, because sirens are known to just serenade folks without wanting to drown ‘em.”

“We do it more often than you might think.” The siren sighs, “I came here to keep you safe, and succeeded only in making you afraid.”

Duck, having scooted inelegantly onto dry land, watches the tan upper body of the siren sag. It’s awkward, a word not associated with this kind of mer. That suggests he’s telling the truth.

“You gonna tell me why you’re playin watchdog at my house?”

The siren chirps, intrigued, “In all but one future you told me to go away.”

“That’d just leave me with more questions. And so far, you ain’t done anythin other’n watch me; if you say this was an accident, I’m willin to hear you out.”

“Wonderful!” The siren claps his hands together and the tip of his tail flips out of the water. Then he clears his throat and recites, “I am known as Indrid Cold. As you noticed, I am a siren. I am also a gifted seer, artist, and lifeguard when humans are unconscious and thus will not try to kill me for rescuing them. I am an excellent fisher, and well-liked and/or feared by the larger creatures of this coastline. This is why I think I would be an excellent mate.”

“O-kay. Did you call me out here to practice your personals ad?” Duck smirks, charmed by Indrids earnest tone.

“This is not practice. I did a great deal of that earlier today. This is my formal declaration that I would very much like you to be my mate.”

“Ma--hold on.” The images from his near-fatal dream return, “were you singin’ to hit on me?”

Indrid crosses his arms, “For the last time, that song was not for you. It was about you, because I was daydreaming and my formless melody unintentionally conveyed the contents of said daydream into your mind.”

“So everythin in it, all that wild fuckin stuff, that’s stuff you wanna do with me?”

A nod, accompanied by a flash of white light under the water.

“Why?”

“Because you are strong, and handsome, and capable on the water. I watched your futures yesterday and today and saw you are kind as well, well-liked by other humans but a little lonely at night. You are very nice to that small land-otter that lives in your house.”

“You mean the cat?”

“That’s the word! Yes, you are nice to your cat. You are not brash or cruel, and you look so very nice without a shirt. I...I like you, Duck. You are everything I want in a mate.”

“Feel like I might be missin’ some gills and fins.” He jokes to cover the fact he’s scanning his mind and body for the same dreamy lull he felt during the song. What he finds in it’s place is his ego purring from praise and wondering exactly what a siren would do for his mate.

“There is no rule that says I must choose only my own kind for such activities. I, ah, I know it is strange, given how little we know of each other, but I thought that, ah, since humans will have casual sex with each other maybe we could, or, ah, that is…” He’s watching Duck with such unconcealed hope that the human almost joins him in the water.

“Indrid, I’m real flattered. But I’d be a damn fool if I didn’t point out this feels like a fuckin trap. Pretty easy for you to drag me to my death once we’re, uh, in the middle of things. Not that I’m sayin you would.” He adds when the sirens smile dims.

“A sensible concern. May I join you on land for a moment? There is something I want to show you.”

Duck pats the sand beside him, eyes following the ripples of Indrid’s tail as he swims, slithers, and slides onto the beach. It reminds Duck of an oarfish, though when Indrid spies him looking the scales flash deep purple.

“Look there” Indrid points toward the end of the silver ribbon of scales; a round, white scar stares up at Duck. The details of a day over two decades in the past return to him.

“You’re the siren I found when I was a kid.”

“Indeed. I remember you by your eyes, though your face has some echoes of that day in it’s curves. You saved my life, showed me mercy when I expected none. Sirens do not forget a favor, and we do not kill those who once spared us. I will never harm you, even if you turn me away tonight. You will be safe, whether that is in my arms or merely in my territory.”

Duck avoids the stranger sides of life by the sea, citing a lifelong incompatibility with the weird. Turns out all he needed to find his exception to that rule is a handsome siren looking at him like he set the tides in motion.

The human runs a finger up the sirens tail, sparks of purple and pale blue light igniting in it’s wake.

“Didn’t know y’all changed colors.” He pets Indrid’s hip and the whole tail lights up this time.

“I am a deep-sea siren by birth, we use light to communicate emotions.”

“Mind, uh, loopin me in on the conversation?”

“Purple means desire. It’s a common color in mating displays.” Indrid watches Duck’s hand glide along his scales, and a burst of pale blue reflects across their faces.

“And that one?”

“Submission.” Indrid murmurs, “it is, ah, not the most desirable color to show. My kind value strength and power; enjoying the opposite is an invitation to mockery.” The siren’s eyes stay downcast, even when Duck smooths silver hair from his face.

“Now, I like to joke as much as the next fella, but that don’t seem like somethin to tease about.”

“No?” Indrid’s gaze flicks onto Duck the instant before the man straddles him. Duck doesn’t even have to push him onto his back; he goes instantly, hands flat on the sand and tail twitching excitedly in the shallows.

“No. Seems to me a sweet thing like you oughta be takin care of.”

Indrid snickers, “That is not usually an adjective one uses for meAHahnn” he arches as Duck tugs his hair.

“Let’s get one thing straight, sugar; I decide what you get called. I wanna call you the most perfect creature in the sea, I will. And if I wanna call you a needy little mer who’s good for nothin but gettin fucked into the sand, you’re gonna nod and say ‘yes.’ Understood?”

The blue light flashing up his tail brightens, “Y-yes but, but why do you call me sugar? That is a food.”

Duck giggles, leans down to brush their noses together, “It’s a nickname, call you it because you’re sweet and I can’t wait to get my fill of you.”

“Ohhhh, I see.”

“You wanna see somethin else?”

“Very much soOH, oh goodness.” Indrid gasps as Duck forces his gaze towards his cock attempting to free itself from his boxers. He grinds on the supple muscle of his tail to take the pressure off, chuckles when the siren whines and tries to kiss his chest.

“Since you’re the only siren I’d ever even consider fuckin-” Duck pauses as Indrid moans loudly, digging his fingers into the sand, “you gotta show me how to go about it.”

“If, if you just continue as you are a little higher upyes, yes right there” He rolls his hips, purrs with such a blissful expression that Duck is powerless to do anything but kiss him. His affection grows when he notices Indrid clearly restraining his kisses so as not to catch Duck’s mouth or tongue with his sharp teeth. The last guy he fucked shoved his tongue down his throat without any build-up or finesse, and now all he can think is if only Indrid had made his feelings know sooner, Duck could have done away with shitty human dates and had an obedient, eager mer instead.

“Mmmmm” Indrid licks his lips, runs his fingers up Duck’s sides, “kissing is nice. It is not something sirens often indulge in, so my chances to do it are few and far between.”

“Ain’t that a shame” Duck kisses the corners of his mouth, “lips like these were made to be kissed sore.”

Indrid purrs, wiggling his tail, and Duck looks down to see a slit opening where his clothed cock has been rubbing.

“Huh. Kinda figured you had-”

“-I have both this and an appendage below it much like your own.”

“Handy.” Duck, in no mood to climb off the purring, otherworldly man, eases the waistband of his damp boxers just under his balls.

“This, uh, this ain’t gonna actually create a, I mean, I don’t wanna accidentally-”

“Nono, there is no chance of procreation”

“And you’ll be okay with so little of you in the water?”

“Yesyes I will be fine.” Indrid tugs at his hips, bucks his own into the air in frustration.

“Just checkin’ oh, oh fuck” Indrid is tight and ridged around his dick as it slides in, “fuckin christ, no wonder sailors’ll crash into rocks at the offerin of fuckin a siren, wait, fuck, that was probably rude.”

“I will let it slide” Indrid teases, the end of his tail curling around Duck’s left ankle, “on account of your body is so lovely I would beach myself and die gasping on your doorstep for a chance to touch it.”

“No need for that. All you gotta do is wait here like a good little mer and I’ll fuck you as much as you want.” The slit pulses as Duck slowly fucks in and out, and he knows he’ll have to throw out all his fleshlights after this because nothing will ever compare to the deliciously alien feeling of Indrid around his dick.

“Do, do not joke about such things.” Indrid whimpers, clinging to his shoulders.

“I ain’t. You wanted a mate, right?”

“Yes, you, so very badly.”

“Well, you got one, and you feel so goddamn good on my cock I ain’t inclined to let you swim off and be someone else’s.”

“I do not want to, I only want you, please, please let me stay.”

Duck stills his hims and the siren writhes as he leans down. The human cups his cheek, “I want you to stay, ‘Drid. I wanna get to know you. Long as you promise you ain’t gonna fuck me unless you want to, and not because you’re scared I’ll turn you loose.”

“I promise.” Indrid initiates the kiss this time, purring when Duck takes his time kissing back.

“Good. Now that we got that cleared up” Duck sits up, “be a good mate and take what I give you.” He fucks in as hard as he dares, dives back down to kiss Indrid’s lips and throat as the mer’s cock emerges. Duck finds he can grind his ass along the twisting shaft at the same time he drives his own into Indrid’s body, resulting in a wail of pleasure and teeth sinking into his shoulder.

“Fuck!”

“Sorry!” Indrid squeaks, hiding his face in Duck’s neck, “it, it is a reflex-”

Duck yanks his head back to his shoulder, near the first mark, and holds it down, “Do it again.”

Indrid trills and pain lights up Duck’s body, the perfect counterpoint to the pleasure coursing through him with each roll of their bodies. The siren chirps and moans, nips his arms and ears, slides his tail along his legs as his cock pumps frantically against his ass.

“That’s it sweet thing, cum for me while I fuck you. Show me just what my mate is for.” Duck bites Indrid’s neck and cum splatters the backs of his thighs as Indrid’s repetitions of his name drown out the noise of the waves. Duck’s orgasm follows fast, sweeps through him like the crescendo of a song carried on the night air.

Duck stays buried in him well after he’s finished, mind already conjuring images of tying Indrid down in shallow water and keeping his cock warm all day.

“Duck?”

“Yeah, sugar?”

“I, ah, I need to get back in the water.”

“Oh shit, yeah, sure.” He pulls out, tosses his sea-soaked boxers up the beach as Indrid slides into the sea. Duck wades in, stopping where it’s waist deep as the siren swims lazily circles around him.

“Such a perfect mate.”

“Glad you still think so.”

Indrid curls up to him, rubbing their cheeks together, “Thank you for indulging me. Do...do you wish me to come back tomorrow? Or to stay tonight? There are no other mers between here and my territory, so there is no reason I cannot count this stretch as mine.”

Duck kisses one of the hickeys blooming on tan skin, “How’s about you stay the night. We got some things to talk about. And, if you’re real good, I might let you fuck me when we’re done.”

Indrid grins, “My dearest one, I believe we have a deal.”

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

Nowadays, if you ever go near Kepler and the surrounding islands, you may hear people talk about Duck Newton, beloved native son, skilled park ranger, and the only man receive siren kisses and live to tell the tale.

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermaid au #siren au #monster march #monster boyfriend

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justablobfish · 3 years

Text

Finding a present for that person that is impossible to find a present for

Day 13 of my Advent Calender. A new drabble or oneshot everyday until Christmas, following the Continent’s favourite found family and what they’re up to in the winter season. Based on this prompt list

Read on AO3

Day 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

______

It's going to be Jaskier’s second time visiting Kaer Morhen.

Two years ago, Geralt had asked him only a few days before they were scheduled to separate for the winter. It had all been rather sudden and the whole season had passed in a blur of anxiety and excitement.

He hadn't even met the whole family then, Geralt's little brother Lambert hadn't made it to the keep that year. Then, the year after, Jaskier got delayed by his family until he couldn't make it to the keep anymore; the path had already snowed over.

This year though - this year Jaskier is determined to make the most of his time at Kaer Morhen and charm his way into the hearts of Geralt's family until they can't imagine winter without him anymore.

Step one is to make a good first impression after the Wolves haven't seen him in so long. And the easiest way to do that is to get the perfect welcome gift for everyone scheduled to be there.

He comes across the first gift mere weeks after the snow of the previous winter has melted. After the tedious experience with his parents he decides to spend some time in Oxenfurt to recuperate.

In his favorite dingy little bookstore he finds the perfect present for Eskel.

Yes, yes, a steamy romance novel might not necessarily be the best way to prove himself to his lover's family, but the cover of the book shows your usual handsome warrior with very revealing clothing clutching a swooning damsel in distress in his overly muscular arms. Except this protagonist is drawn with an enormous scar covering the left side of his face.

He's extremely handsome. So is Eskel, of course, but whenever Jaskier tells him as much he just dismisses the compliment. With this book though, Eskel will have to believe him that scars are seen as attractive by quite a number of people. Why else would they draw the cover like this?

His second gift he also finds in a bookstore, though this place couldn't possibly be more different than where he found the book for Eskel.

The "Ye Olde Books" in Toussaint sells only the most esteemed antiquities to rich noblemen who never intend to read them and only display them to prove their supposedly good taste and to exaggerate their riches.

Jaskier quickly determines the oldest book the store has on offer. It's still younger than the recipient of the gift, of course, but the fairy tale stories it holds should still be similar enough to the stories that must have been popular when Vesemir was a child.

After the events of the last winter Jaskier at least managed to guilt trip his parents enough that he has no trouble paying for the delicate tome.

As for Lambert, Jaskier didn't meet him the one year he spent at Kaer Morhen, but he and Geralt ran into the younger Witcher on the Path once. It was a brief encounter and Lambert didn't seem to particularly like Jaskier.

Geralt reassured him afterwards that it's nothing personal and that Lambert doesn't like anyone.

Even though they couldn't possibly be more different, Lambert somewhat reminded Jaskier of himself. Jaskier is happy with his place in the world now, but he had to carve it out for himself, which hadn't always been easy. He remembers a time when he, too, felt trapped in the life he was born into, never good enough to satisfy his parents or to become a person in his own right, not just the heir to a legacy he wanted nothing to do with.

So the bitterness Lambert carries around with him feels very familiar.

His third gift, therefore, is just as expensive as Vesemir's and on top of that requires a large amount of convincing to work out. Luckily, Jaskier has practice annoying someone enough until they agree to anything. He spent most of his life perfecting the skill with the involuntary help of his lover.

By the time winter comes around again, the specially commissioned Gwent card will have started distribution. Though of course Jaskier will carry a copy of the new Lambert hero card with him as well and present it to Geralt's younger brother. He's made sure it would be stronger than the White Wolf card that became popular in recent years.

Ciri's gift is easy enough. Jaskier simply buys the biggest, fluffiest teddy bear he can find. Ciri is going to roll her eyes at him and claim that she isn't a kid anymore, but that's exactly what makes it the perfect present. With all that destiny business, the kid forgets far too often to allow herself to be a child sometimes.

How to get this monstrous thing, which is nearly as tall as Jaskier, back to Kaer Morhen is an entirely different story, though…

The gift for Yennefer isn't hard to find either once he meets up with Geralt and travels with him again. In a run-down little general store in a village in the middle of nowhere, in the furthest corner of the shop, hidden under a fishing net and a set of gardening tools, lies the most atrocious knitted sweater Jaskier has ever seen. There's no reason to abandon old traditions, even if he and Yennefer don’t meet up at Oxenfurt anymore. And in case Yennefer doesn't attend Kaer Morhen this winter, he'll simply keep it around until the next time they meet. The knitwear is so incredibly ugly, it would be a shame to waste it.

Geralt informs him one day that Lambert will bring a plus one. Not a boyfriend or close friend or anything, just a superficial acquaintance. The fact that Lambert risked his own hide to save the man's life is - apparently - entirely coincidental and without meaning. It's just that this other Witcher of the Cat school has no other place to spend the winter. Nothing more.

Geralt calls his little brother an emotionally constipated idiot and Jaskier can't help but burst out laughing at the hypocrisy.

Jaskier isn't sure whether to get this Aiden a gift as well since he never met the man, but as so often in his life, fate takes matters into its own hands.

He's perusing his favorite clothes store in Vizima when he finds the most beautiful scarf. It's big and woolen and perfectly flashy. Every handspan or so the pattern and colours change completely. All in all it shows every colour of the rainbow.

That is not the gift for Aiden, of course. But it's going to look great on Jaskier, especially since Geralt still insists he wears that old grey winter cloak. Granted, the cloak is warm, but oh so boring looking. The scarf will be just the right accessory to add a bit of color to his winter wardrobe.

The gift for Aiden he comes across as he leaves the store. A little boy, who must be the owner's son, sits at the side of the road and busies himself with thread and needle.

Curious, Jaskier steps closer and finds that the boy is attaching pieces of felt to a simple hairband.

Once the kid is done he puts the headband on and the felt pieces stand up in such a way that it appears like the boy has kitten ears growing out of his head.

Jaskier considers for a moment but then decides that if this Aiden is voluntarily hanging out with Lambert, he must have a good sense of humor. He buys the headband off the boy and heads back to his and Geralt's inn room.

Maybe it's because he's traveling with Geralt and can't really go looking for a gift for the White Wolf, but by the time their departure for Kaer Morhen rolls around, Jaskier has a little something for everyone, except Geralt. He doesn't even have an idea what he could gift to the man. Anything practical like a new whetstone, better armor or a fancy dagger is something that Geralt is far better equipped to pick out himself. Jaskier has little knowledge about such things.

And while Jaskier has spent the last twenty years of his life convincing the big oaf that he deserves pretty things every once in a while, too, Jaskier can't think of anything that wouldn't just be in the way when they eventually set out on the Path again.

The end of autumn creeps closer and closer and Jaskier’s head stubbornly remains empty. It shouldn't be this hard to think of something that Geralt would enjoy. After all, Jaskier has known him for over two decades now. But it seems like everything he could get his favorite Witcher he has already gotten him at some point during their travels.

He still has no idea when they pass the last village on the way to the Witchers’ keep.

Or when they start making their way up the mountain path.

Maybe there's a pretty rock he can pick up?

What? No, that's a dumb idea. He's not just gonna pick up a random rock just because he's desperate. At this point he'll just have to accept the fact that he has no gift for Geralt.

They reach the keep after two days of tedious climbing - not something Jaskier missed from his last visit - and are greeted at the gates by the other Witchers. Geralt's family members each welcome Geralt with a short hug and a pat on the back, while another man, who must be Lambert's tagalong, awkwardly stands to the side. Vesemir and Eskel nod at Jaskier courtly, Lambert only grunts at him.

Jaskier makes eye contact with Aiden who rolls his eyes at him apologetically over Lambert's behaviour.

Then Geralt brings Roach to the stables and they all quickly make their way inside.

In the large dining hall they meet Yennefer and Ciri. Apparently they only came here a day earlier via portal, making Jaskier and Geralt the last to arrive.

"I have welcoming gifts!" Jaskier addresses everyone.

Eskel reacts to his present with eyes narrowed in confusion. Then they grow wide with realisation and wonder.

Lambert scoffs when Jaskier hands him his parcel. He doesn't scoff again after he unpacks it.

Aiden grins at him widely and immediately puts his gift on.

Vesemir simply hums appreciatively. It reminds Jaskier far too much of Geralt. He supposes the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Ciri, as expected, reacts with a pout and the declaration that she's not a child anymore. Still, she clutches the plushy to her chest and refuses to let it go when Aiden says he'll take it if she doesn't like it.

Yennefer snarls at her sweater and quickly turns away from the group to hide it, but just like Ciri does with the teddy bear, she clutches it to her chest protectively.

Which only leaves Geralt.

"I, uh…, " Jaskier stutters and stares at his empty hands.

"Hmm," Geralt hums. "Saving the best for last?"

He grabs Jaskier by the shoulder, turns him around so that he's facing the room. He hugs Jaskier from behind and places his chin on Jaskier’s shoulder.

"Seems like you got me the best gift of all," Geralt hums. "Look!"

Confused, Jaskier glances about the room. Vesemir and Eskel are sitting in a corner, flipping through their respective books. Lambert is chasing Aiden through the room, who has stolen his Gwent card and is waving it around tauntingly. Ciri holds the teddy out to Yennefer, who's holding her sweater to the bear's chest to see if it would fit him. There's nothing out of the ordinary that Jaskier can spot.

"I don't under-" he begins.

"Everyone's here," Geralt explains. "My whole family in one place for the very first time. I couldn't possibly ask for more."

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #Jaskier #geralt of rivia #eskel #lambert #aiden #vesemir #ciri #Yennefer of Vengerberg #theblobfishwrites

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loves124 · 3 years

Text

Neighbor’s ch.1

Warning: language (sorry if it bothers you all but I usually sing like a sailor and tried holding back a bit more this chapter but there are still some word in here.)

Kinda fluff?

If there are any errors or mistakes please don’t hesitate to let me know :)

Also don’t hesitate to give me some fresh ideas

Thank you,

Love you,

Enjoy!

(Shouta Aizawa x fem!reader)

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It's been a long day for you. As soon as you walked out the door this morning, anything and everything has been going wrong. You were running late and had to skip breakfast, you missed your train, you got scolded by your boss for showing up late, and you even grabbed your least favorite pair of socks. They have a little nub in the corner that always feels super weird on your foot and makes you feel uncomfortable in your body. As the day progressed, nothing got better. You just wanted to come home and cry on your couch while watching Ghibli movies and eating a pint of ice cream for dinner.

You could feel the familiar lump in your throat forming, and your eyes were stinging from holding back your tears. Today was just so frustrating, and all you wanted was for it to be over. The more you thought about it, the heavier your emotion was. Thank God that your shift was finally over with. Looking at the time, you saw that it was 7:30 and you needed to hurry to catch the last train home.

As you headed home, you could feel your feet dragging behind you, sniffling and letting some tears fall. You finally reach your complex and continue walking to your apartment door.

A man is standing by the railing near your apartment door. He has a cigarette hanging from his lips. Taking a second to lean away from the railing, he pulls a hairband from his wrist and gathers his long ebony hair pulling it back into a messy bun. He looks a little disheveled: wearing some black slacks to pair with his black V-neck shirt.

You can see some cardboard boxes packed around him as well. It takes you a second to realize that the apartment next to yours has been vacant for weeks now. Mrs. Honda, your landlady, might've finally found an occupant.

Great. Your first impression to your neighbor is going to be when you're a total mess. That's just fan-fucking-tastic.

You try to compose yourself as you make your way closer to your apartment, and it isn't working too well. The man picks up your movement and gives you a gaze as he flicks the built-up ashes of the end of his cigarette.

You give a bit of a nod and mumble a quiet hello as you make your way closer to your apartment. You fumble through your purse, trying to find your key card for your door. Huffing in frustration, you realize that you most likely locked it in your apartment. 'This day just can't get any better,' you think to yourself.

You dig through your purse and grab your wallet, pulling out a dunking donuts gift card. You attempt to fiddle it in-between your door and the frame. You were struggling as you fiddled with the handle of the door. You are just about to try and kick down the door before a voice interrupts you.

"Aren't burglars supposed to be good at picking locks?"

You look over to see the man leaning back on the rail, amused at your feeble attempt to break into your own apartment.

Flustered, you stumble to find your words. "Ah well, you see... this is actually my apartment. I just locked my card inside. I was running late this morning and didn't have time for breakfast. And breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and it probably is a reason why I forgot my card. And my boss didn't make it any better by being such an asshole-" you glance at the man again and compose yourself. "I'm so sorry. You don't need to know all that. It's just been a long day," you sigh.

"Hey, I get it. It's been similar for me. I usually don't smoke, but it's been a bit of a rough day, so I thought I deserved a bit of a break," he signals to the cigarette intertwined between his fingers.

"I would offer you one, but I take you as the type who doesn't smoke."

"After the day I had, I am very tempted for any sort of relief" you sigh and drop your bag, joining him over by the railing.

Lazily putting the cigarette back in-between his lips, he extends his hand out to you. "Shouta Aizawa, I guess I'm your new neighbor."

You reciprocate and put your tiny hand in his "(F/N L/N, it's nice to meet you. Sorry, you had to see me when I'm such a mess."

"If this is you when you're a mess, I'd love to see how you are normally," he says.

Both you and Aizawa chit chat a bit before a gust of wind flows by you, making you shiver and cover your arms to receive it a bit. I guess he picks up on it because he offers you to come inside his apartment for a cup of tea.

"If that makes you uncomfortable, though, you are more than free to refuse. I won't take any offense," Aizawa says as he stubs out the remains of his cigarette into the ashtray he has sitting on a cardboard box.

"I'll take you up on your offer" you smile. "Just to let you know, though, I judge harshly when it comes to people's tea-making abilities."

"noted," he chuckles as he holds the door open for you with one arm while holding the box in the other.

You both chat for hours. Talking about anything and everything, you learned that he is a teacher at UA. Commending him at his accomplishment for having a job at such a prestigious school, but he doesn't seem to be interested in his accomplishment. Even with all of the talking, he seems like he isn't too interested in talking about his own life but more interested in finding more information about yours.

It's sweet, but you would like to know more about the man in front of you. You are surprised with how comfortable you are with him. He is a little intimidating. He's got this dark and broody sort of personality, and that's disregarding his looks. This man is the definition of sexy.

You are just admiring him and all of his details while he is sipping on the chamomile tea he made for you both. You notice the scar that's on his left cheekbone, and you're tempted to run your fingers across it. He also had some pretty prominent eye bags. You usually think eye bags are unattractive. That's ever since you developed some from working overtime at your job. Waking up and seeing the dark circles under your eye made you feel so insecure. Looking at Aizawa though, you can't help but find them beautiful. They add to his charm a bit, and you realize he most likely has them from putting in so much effort into his work. His dedication is more than admirable.

You take your time basking in him, thinking to yourself, "why is he so goddamn pretty?"

Only to realize that his expression changes, and you just said that out loud. Flustered, you try and explain yourself, "Sorry, I just- I didn't- God, this is embarrassing."

He grins. "Never would have thought I would be described as 'pretty. Usually, I get 'jaded' or 'dull.'"

"Really?" you say, shocked. "But you're so handsome?"

"With these dry eyes, thanks, but I don't need any pity compliments" you go to defend yourself but are interrupted by him.

"speaking of dry eyes," he rummages through his pockets. "Where did I put them?" he questions before picking up a box and setting it on the counter, rummaging through it.

"What are you looking for?" you question.

"Just eye drops, I get some pretty mean dry eye, so I usually have some on hand," he huffs.

"Well, I don't think you are going to find them in there," you nervously laugh.

"Why not? I'm pretty sure I put them in here."

"Do you... um usually put your eye drops in with uh- your butt plugs?" you question

"My what?" he stares incredulously, and you respond by pointing to the scribbled sharpie written on the side of the box. He flips the box around to see written in big bold letters' Aizawa's Butt Plugs FRAGILE'.

"Hizashi," he quietly sighs while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, it's totally okay. I don't kink shame here. I would just say its a little unsanitary to put your eye drops with-"

"I don't have but plugs," he quickly says. "I have never once owned but plugs; it's just my coworker is a piece of shit and doesn't know how to stay out of someone else's stuff."

"I like his humor. Seems like my kind of person," you chuckle.

"You would eat your words if you met him in person. He is kind of a loud person," he sighs as he continues to dig through the box. "Finally," he puffs as he pulls out a small little bottle. Unscrewing the top, he attempts to drop some in his eyes but misses.

Some mumbled swears later, and you offer, "Would you like some help?"

"only if you're comfortable though," you add on.

"Could you? I can usually get it first try since I do it so often" he hands you the tiny bottle. You look around and move to sit on the counter, waving him over to come in-between your legs. You cup his face as if it were a natural thing you would do on a day-to-day basis without even thinking. You have your thumb laying on his cheekbone, and you drag it over his scar, feeling some of the grooves and divots within it. He leans a bit into your hand as you caress the scar, but you realize you are getting a little carried away and continue. Dropping a couple of drops in each eye, he sighs in relief.

"Thanks," he says with a smile. You both look into each other's eyes before you cough and look over at the time to see it is already 1 am. He follows your gaze.

"Wow, have we really been talking that long?" you question. "I've probably more than overstayed my welcome" with a laugh, you hop off the counter and stand under his gaze. "Thank you so much for listening to me and being such a wonderful host. I should probably head back over though" you point to the direction of your apartment. "You might if I use your balcony to hop on over?" You ask.

"Sure," he breaks from his trance. Leading you to the balcony, you throw your bag over the railing to your side and follow in suit. He gives his hand and aids you over the railing to your side.

With a thankful smile, you give a quick thanks and goodnight. But before you go in, they capture your attention once again.

Rubbing his hand on the back of his neck, he says, "just so you know, you're welcome here anytime you get locked out again, or even if you don't get locked out."

You smile. "I'll take you up on that, but you might get tired of me pretty fast." You open the back door and make your way into your apartment, but before you close the door, you hear him say

"I doubt it."

#aizawa fanfiction #mha #fanfic

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ffakc · 3 years

Text

If I Only Had a Heart - a Denny Duquette story

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Shonda Rhimes and I may have thrown in a few lines from Grey’s Anatomy, which again, are all Shonda’s! This was inspired by my own real life job as a barista at a hospital and seeing the coffee cart on Grey’s. Hope y’all enjoy the fluffy goodness!

I stroke my boyfriend’s hair and kiss his forehead. His eyelids were heavy and the monitor beeped rhythmically. It was the first time since before being diagnosed that his heart was beating properly. I run my fingers over his stubbly cheek.

“You’re done, Denny. You’re done. You’ve got a new heart, baby,” I rub his hand, tears welling up in my eyes. Denny grimaces in his deep slumber. A large tube was jammed down his throat. I had just sat through the longest eight hours of my life, all I wanted was to hear Denny say, “I love you.”

“He did amazing, Mrs. Duquette,” Dr. Stevens stands in the doorway, massaging hand sanitizer into her hands.

“Why do you have to eating that when I’m NPO?” Denny teases.

“Mmm. Lo mein and honey walnut shrimp,” I wave the chopsticks in his face.

“Get fucked,” my boyfriend laughs.

“Language, Dennison,” Dr. Burke smiles as he places his stethoscope on my boyfriend’s hairy chest.

“Uh oh, full name. Look’s like Dad’s mad at me! Will you hand me my bag, doll face?” I grab Denny’s black backpack. “Let me see, let me see. Where did I put it?”

“What are looking for?” Denny ignores me, continuing to rifle through his belongings. “Ah,” he smiles at me, “There it is.” He drops his bag to the side of the bed and opens a small velvet box.

“What is that? Denny Duquette, you’ve done lost your ever loving mind!” I imitate his vaguely southern twang. He laughs heartily.

“You sound like my mother.”

“You’re crazy,” I kiss his ice cold lips.

“Crazy for you. Will you marry me?” Denny sighs, wheezing slightly, he always got short of breath when he was emotional. He gasps for air as a single tear falls from his eyelashes.

“Baby, breathe,” I giggle, cupping his cheek in my hand, “Of course I’ll marry you!”

“Hey, he’s okay!” Dr. Stevens rubs my shoulder. “I know all the equipment hooked up to him looks really scary, but it’s to monitor his condition. He doesn’t need machines to be kept alive anymore,” the gorgeous blonde woman smiles reassuringly.

“No more battery packs?” I grin through the tears.

“No more battery packs. He’ll wake up here in the next few hours. The restraints are so he doesn’t freak out and try to pull his breathing tube out, which will come out this time tomorrow. He’ll be in the ICU for the next week, and then we’ll transfer him to the cardiac treatment unit. Here, I have something for you. Well, it’s really for Denny’s recovery,” Dr. Stevens hands me a heart shaped pillow with a permanent marker for me to sign. “It helps with the pain from the incision and his sternum being cracked. Coughing or sneezing can feel like breaking a bone.” I wince at the thought and open the marker.

“My darling Denny, I love you more than words can explain. I can’t wait to call you my ‘husband’ when you get out of here. You’re mine, baby. Forever and ever.”

***

Denny opened the door to our cozy, one bedroom apartment.

“Home at last! Thank GOD!” he smiles, “It sure smells like home,” he inhales the sweet aroma of candles and a savory roast I had made in the slow cooker to welcome him home after a full month of recovering at Seattle Grace. He wraps his arms around me. I tilt my head up and kiss my boyfriend.

“I forgot how tall you are,” I smile.

“I know,” he whispers and strokes my hair. I run my fingers over the long, healing scar on his chest. His shirt was unbuttoned slightly to allow his skin to breathe after being bandaged for so long. He rocks me back and forth. I begin to shed a few tears. “What’s wrong, sweet girl?”

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” I cry into his flannel shirt.

“Do what, baby? What’s wrong? I’m okay now!” Denny chuckles and kisses my forehead.

“Scare the shit out of me. I thought I was going to lose you,” I wipe away the wetness on my cheeks.

“I know, honey. I was scared too. Every single day, I was wondering if this would be the day I close my eyes and don’t wake up. You know how much I hate hospitals.”

“I know you do. I can’t imagine my life without you, honey.”

“And I feel the same. Heaven would be nice, but I wouldn’t be able to take you with me. But it’s over now. I have a new lease on life. I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you,” Denny squeezes me close.

“I love you, Denny.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” a coy smile crosses his lips. I kiss him, tugging at his soft brunette locks.

“Yeah?”

“Dr. Burke cleared me for physical activity,” he raises his eyebrows with his signature charming smirk that made me fall head over heels that fateful day in the Seattle Grace coffee shop.

“Hello there,” a gravelly voice speaks up. I glance up from my morning temperature logs and stock lists. “Are you open?” A tall, insanely handsome, dark haired man stands before me. A warm smile graces his tanned face. He has two black straps affixed to his chest over his slim fitted t shirt.

“Of course! I mean, yes, hi!” I stammer over my words, making a fool of myself in front of. My face reddens as I grab a marker.

“Hi!” he chuckles, matching my goofy tone. I can hardly think straight.

“What can I get for you?” I ask politely.

“I’ve never been here before actually. Nice place you’ve got-“

“Hey Denny!” Dr. Burke pops up behind the man.

“Hey, Dr. Burke! You caught me, I needed a little pick me up,” the man now named Denny winked at me.

“No judgment here, sir. Contrary to popular belief, people with heart failure CAN drink caffeine,” he holds up two slender fingers, “Just two shots of espresso with a Splenda, please.”

“You get your coffee, it’s on me today,” Denny says. Dr. Burke’s pager beeps loudly.

“That’s very kind of you!” he glances at the pager. “Gotta run! See you next month!” the doctor chugs the shots quickly and tosses the cup in the trash.

“Now, where were we?” Denny says. “Oh yeah, I’m Denny, you’ll probably be seeing a lot of me in the coming months because my heart is failing me,” he jokes.

“Hi Denny! I’m (name). It’s nice to meet you! You said your heart is failing you, hm?” I’m glad it wasn’t too busy, because I wanted to look into those hazel eyes for hours.

“Sure is. See these straps? They’re attached to a battery pack running this ol’ ticker. I used to be a ranch hand before I became a weak, sick bastard. Anyway, sorry, you didn’t ask for my life story.”

“Don’t apologize,” I grin. “I hear people’s stories all the time at this job. Kind of comes with working in a hospital, I guess,” I shrug, “What sounds good today, hon?”

“‘Hon’? Oh my, I didn’t know we were on that level yet! I’ve never been here before actually. What do you recommend?”

“Well, I’m pretty simple. This time of year, I really like a dark roast with some cream and a smidge of peppermint. But when I’m feeling like treating myself, I love a white mocha, iced with no whipped cream is my personal preference.” Denny cocks an eyebrow. Warmth gathers between my thighs.

“What if I did an iced white mocha with peppermint? That sounds like a candy cane in a cup! Let’s do a large, because why not?”

“Alright, so with Dr. Burke’s order, your total is $6.17. I gave you an employee discount, because I do what I want,” I tease.

“Hell yeah you do. Here, sweet girl. Keep the change,” he hands me a $20. I whipped around and begin preparing his beverage. Denny bit his lower lip as he looked me up and down. I grabbed the marker with a smirk and did something I’ve always wanted to do.

“There you go! I hope you enjoy that!” his hand grazes mine as he grabs the cup. He shoves a straw in and takes a sip.

“Wow, that’s tasty! What’s this? 406- Oh, you sly dog. I guess I’ll text you later, pretty little thing,” he blows me a kiss. I have a feeling this man and I are going to get along swimmingly.

“Did he now?” Denny begins sucking my neck and moaning in my ear. A shiver courses through my body as he cups my breasts in his massive hands. I missed my boyfriend’s touch. “Mmm, babe. Your hands are warm.”

“I forgot what it feels like to have a normal body temperature,” Denny chuckles, “Oh man, my blood’s pumpin’ in the right direction now, that’s for sure,” he gestures downwards. “Now, go put on that outfit that Daddy loves so much,” he gives my backside a light squeeze and I scamper to the bedroom. I slip out of my sweatpants and my boyfriend’s t-shirt. The smell of his cologne lingered on the fabric, giving me comfort on those nights I had to sleep alone. I put on Denny’s favorite crimson and black teddy and add a quick spritz of perfume.

“Alright, baby. I’m ready,” I call out to the living room. Denny kicks off his boots and ambled into the bedroom with a wide smile.

“Baby doll,” Denny clicks his tongue.

“You like?”

“Oh god,” he clutches his chest, “You’re going to make Daddy’s heart stop and it’s brand new,” he laughs. He pulls me down onto the bed with him and kisses me all over.

“I love you,” I moan.

“And I love you, Mrs. Duquette.”

***

“Oh baby! Oh god, baby girl, Daddy loves you so much,” Denny rasps.

“Oh Daddy, yes! Mmm, Denny, I’ve missed you so much. It’s been so long,” I whine. Denny digs his fingernails into my hips as his eyes roll back. He finishes inside me.

“You feel too damn good,” he moans against my neck. “I didn’t last very long,” he chuckles. I smile and trace my hand over his abdomen as I breathe heavily, my whole lower body pulsating with pleasure. Denny pulls out gently and lays next to me. He wraps his strong arms around me.

“It’s so nice to feel your heart race and it’s not atrial fibrillation!” I giggle excitedly.

“Say it again,” Denny smirks.

“Fibrillation,” I dance my fingers over his scar.

“You sure sound sexy when you talk medical to me.” I bury my face in his lush chest hair.

“I never want to let you go,” my voice is barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to. You’re going to be my wife remember?” he kisses my forehead and pets my hair.

“I absolutely cannot wait.” Denny rubs my engagement ring sweetly.

@iluvneganandjamie @negans-attagirl @jdmbbycakes

#denny duquette #fanfic #fanfiction #greys anatomy #jeffrey dean morgan #negan #the walking dead #john winchester #supernatural

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skzsauce01 · 4 years

Text

Eternally Yours

Anniversary Request Special

Description: Dogged by poverty, you struggle to raise your daughter until an unknown patron appears and becomes a little more than just a financial support. However, maybe this unknown gentleman isn’t so unknown after all.

Warning: domestic abuse, substance abuse

Word Count: 3.7k

Pairing: fem!reader x Hyunjin

It is only when the cold morning air slips under your shirt does the gravity of the whole situation make your hands shake and your knees buckle. You immediately crouch under the illumination of a streetlight as tears pour from your eyes. What are you going to do now? You have no job let alone a place to stay. Not to mention the scars left by your lover render your mind immobile. You never once thought things would turn out like this when you married him. Never had this night crossed your mind every time he touched you, sending tingles across your skin, or every time he said your name like it was the only name that mattered in the world. You were so in love, and if you are being honest, you still are no matter how much he’s betrayed you. Still, you know it’s for your own good that you move on, but can you?

“Are you in pain?”

Your head snaps up at the voice of a stranger. Before you stands a sophisticated man dressed in a handsome tuxedo. You know who he is. The whole town knows who he is.

“Do you want to forget it all?”

“Mommy! Guess what?”

“Yes, Love?” you smile tiredly as you thank the babysitter for her time. She’s too busy looking after the fifteen other children running around at the park to notice, and you immediately feel bad for putting your child under such poor supervision, but it is all you can afford.

“I got a new toy today!” Proudly, she shows you a brand new stuffed sheep.

An eyebrow shoots up. “That’s g-great! Where’d you get that?” you ask, hoping there was a charity giveaway at pre-school or something.

“It was from Mr. H!”

“Mr. H?” you repeat, feeling more and more worried.

“Yep! He had a funny hat and gave me this and some snacks,” she smiles.

“Now, now, Nayeon, what did we say about talking to strangers?” you warn.

“But he’s not a stranger, Mommy! You receive papers from him too, don’t you?”

You flinch at this. It is true that you’ve been receiving random checks from a person by that alias for a while now. Since you fear that it is some sort of a Ponzi scheme, you’ve been ignoring them. Now he is after your daughter too? You wonder if you’ve gotten involved with the mafia or worse. You hold your child to your chest as you cast a look at the distracted babysitter. Maybe it’ll be worth spending a little more on daycare. Your lunch isn’t that important anyway.

“Ah, you’ve learned to read well, haven’t you, Love?”

“Yes, Mommy!” she beams proudly.

“Still, I don’t want you near people like that, okay?”

“But--”

You give her your best ‘listen to you mother’ look and she quiets down.

“Okay…”

“There’s my good girl.”

You take her hand as you walk home, but you can’t help but notice how happy she looks clutching onto her new stuffed animal. You had never been able to get her too many things before, let alone something so new and made clearly of the softest, finest materials. Who is this Mr. H and what possibly does he have to gain from a broke single mother and her daughter? The unease keeps you tossing and turning all night as thoughts of his malicious intentions flood your mind.

A week later, you will your tired legs up the brick steps of the new daycare center. You have to be quick, for your next shift starts in half an hour, and you still have to get your little angel home before then. Once you enter the building, Nayeon waves to you while putting away blocks with a man around your age who is wearing a colorful apron. Suddenly, your head spins.

“Hey!” he exclaims, staring at the flour stain you threw onto his apron.

You stick your tongue at him as a peal of giggles escape you.

“Oh, you think you’re so clever, don’t you?” he teases.

Before you know it, he has an arm wrapped around your waist while the other hand smears your face with flour. You squeal as you try in vain to escape him.

“No fair! You’re so much stronger!”

“Alright, alright,” he laughs, releasing you to walk to a cupboard. “But we’re adding scotch to these cookies.

“You’re always drinking,” you scold.

“Hey, what’s college for if not for alcohol and all-nighters?”

“Whatever, H--”

You blink before the weird vision of yourself finishes her sentence. You must be tired from all those graveyard shifts. Looking back at the man, you decide that he must be one of the volunteers by his apron.

You wave back with your best smile and go to the front desk to pay for your daughter’s stay.

“For L/N Nayeon,” you tell the receptionist.

She types a few things in and looks at you confused. “Nayeon, right? N-A-Y-E-O-N?”

“That’s right.” You lean over the counter, confused as to what can be wrong.

“It says in our system that you’ve already paid for this month, Ms. L/N. Did you want to pay in advance for the next one?”

“No, I didn’t, but what do you mean I already paid? I barely got my paycheck yesterday.”

“For L/N Nayeon?” another worker pokes in. “It wasn’t you who paid, Ms. L/N, but your boyfriend.”

“My what?”

“Is he not?” she gasps. “I’m so sorry! I just assumed since he paid for everything and even volunteered to play with the kids!”

She points to the play area where your daughter is in only to find just kids. “Huh, that’s weird. He was here a minute ago.”

You feel a tug on your shirt and look down to see Nayeon staring back at you. You immediately lean down to pick her up.

“Was there someone playing with you earlier?” you ask her.

She nods happily. “Yeah! It was Mr. H!”

Your heart drops at that name. “Nayeon--”

“But it’s okay cause Auntie said so!”

The worker looks at you guiltily. “I thought he was your boyfriend,” she repeats.

“Fine,” you frown. “Can we check the name on his card from when he paid at least?”

The one at the computer shakes her head sadly. “It says it was a cash transaction.”

“Maybe this will help!” interrupts Nayeon, holding an envelope to your face.

“What’s this?”

She answers, “He told me to give this to my mommy, so that’s you!”

You take the envelope and glance at the clock on the wall. You don’t have much time to keep squabbling about this mysterious man. The workers apologize profusely for their negligence and promise to find what they can about Mr. H. You thank them for their time and take Nayeon home hastily.

That night, as Nayeon lays sound asleep on your shared bed, you take out the envelope from earlier. You can’t tell if the shaking of your hands is from the tension of the unknown or from washing dishes for the past four hours.

“Dear L/N Y/N,” the letter reads. “I’m sure I have caused you some concern by involving myself in parts of your life lately, and I apologize sincerely for this. However, I would like to assure you that I mean no harm in my actions. I have merely heard of your and sweet Nayeon’s situation and would like to help however I can. If you do not wish that I be near your daughter, I completely understand, but please let me continue being a patron of Nayeon’s upbringing; her angelic charms and sweet smile have taken my heart completely. I’m sure you understand. To show my sincerity, I have included a new lunch card with this letter. It should be loaded with enough to last her the entire year, snacks included. I hope that you will consider my offer. Yours truly, Mr. H.”

Patron? If these past few years have taught you anything, it is that there is no free lunch in this world. You look at Nayeon then back at the letter. Nayeon, letter. Nayeon, letter. Nayeon, lunch card.

You’d be lying if you said you can go without his gift; one of your greatest guilts is imagining your daughter sitting alone on the swings while the rest of her class indulges in frozen fruit bars or chocolate graham crackers. Are you perhaps being too paranoid about this whole situation? No, this is seriously too good to be true.

You turn the letter over and scribble your own message on its back before putting it into the envelope. You will have Nayeon deliver it to him.

For a year your only communication with this man is through Nayeon and the daycare center whenever he comes in to pay her fees. Your first reply back was a simple “Who are you?” to which he replies:

“Dear L/N Y/N, I apologize for my need to conceal my identity. While I do not wish to deceive you by providing a false identity, I also wish to protect my real one. Just pretend I am no more than a passing wind. I hope you understand this; the last thing I would want is for you to feel indebted to me. More importantly, how are you? Being a single mother must be tough. I offer my sincerest condolences about your struggles. I hope I can free you from at least a few shifts throughout the week so that you might find time for yourself. Nayeon is doing great at this daycare. She is learning to add very well, but I am sure you already know this. I hope you both are well. Until next time, Mr. H.”

Over the months, you grow more and more fond of Mr. H. You don’t even grow anxious anymore when opening his letters. Instead, you find yourself looking forward to them. Admittedly, although ashamedly, you have grown to depend on his support; just the other day, you even ordered soda with your lunch. Nayeon looks happy about him too. You’ve let him associate with her at the daycare again, and she looks extra jubilant on the days he visits.

After those twelve months, you find yourself standing among other parents as the graduating class of kindergarteners walk across the stage. You’ve taken an entire day off just to spend it with your little girl, and you cannot be more pleased with your decision as she bounces towards you in a yellow gown, diploma in her hand and smile on her face.

“Mommy! You came!” she squeals.

“Of course I did! I wouldn’t miss your graduation for the world!” You scoop her up into your arms. “Did you see me when you walked on stage?”

“I did! And--” She stops as her eyes widen upon seeing someone behind your shoulder. “Mr. H!”

You whip around at that name, trying to see whom she was pointing to. You’re met with a tall man who quickly tips his hat over his face.

He isn’t quick enough to stop you from noticing how familiar he looks though, and definitely not quick enough to hide his resemblance to Nayeon. He tries walking away, but you stop him.

“Hey!” you call, hurrying after him. “Stop! Please stop.”

He hesitates, but finally does as you request, standing with his head down and faced away from you.

“I just wanted to thank you,” you gasp, a little breathless from the chase. “For everything. At least let me offer you tea or something at my place.”

“Your place?” he finally says after a moment.

“Yes. To celebrate Nayeon. I bought cookies for the occasion too. My apartment isn’t too far from here. Please come over to have some.”

As if he were an antique wind-up doll, he stiffly turns towards you. “Would you say that even if you knew who I am?”

“What do you mean? Of course I would; it’s the least I can do,” you chuckle, trying to see under his hat.

Slowly, he lifts up his chin so that you can see his tear-filled eyes.

“Y/N…” he breathes as if finding a long lost lover.

You are stricken by a strange sense of familiarity once you see his face, but you can’t quite remember where you’ve seen him before.

“Yes?” you decide to answer plainly.

He furrows his brows. “D-do you not remember me?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. “No, I’m sorry. Should I?”

His eyes widen at your straight forward confession. “N-no, I must have mistaken you for someone else too. I apologize.”

“Well, um, it’s great to finally meet you. Tea then?” you suggest awkwardly.

He nods and you walk towards your destination, leaving him staring at your back in awe.

At your apartment, you grab two jars of tea leaves from the cupboard. You turn to him and ask, “Would you like green tea or--”

The cupboards are thrown open. Broken glass litter the floor. In the corner, a man sits on the ground with his head in his hands.

“Honey?” you call out. “Honey, you alright?”

“What do you think?” he hisses.

“Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s called getting out of my face!”

You withdraw your steps. “I was just trying to be nice.”

“Well you’re just being a pain.”

You crouch before him, deciding to be the bigger person. “If you change your mind, just know that I’m here for you and I love y--”

Before you can finish, his body lurches forward and projectile vomits all over your shoes.

“Are you alright?”

You blink twice, bringing Mr. H back into focus.

“Yes,” you say through a forced smile.

He walks over to you with a worried frown and feels your forehead with his hand. Unaccustomed to the sudden proximity, you take a step back and clear your throat.

“I um, might actually have some wine somewhere if you’d prefer that.”

“Sorry,” he mutters, embarrassedly rubbing his palms together. “And I don’t drink anymore. Green tea sounds lovely, if you don’t mind.”

You nod, ignoring the heat rising to your face, and put a kettle on the stove.

You collapse onto Mr. H as he rubs circles into your skin to help you feel better.

“Your stupid boss again?” he whispers.

You nod, careful not to make any noise that would wake up your daughter. She and her third grade class have their first ever state exam tomorrow, and you are determined to help her do well.

“Thanks for being here,” you sigh.

“Of course. It’s the least I can do,” he murmurs into your hair.

“No, the truth is, you don’t have to do any of this, yet here you are.”

He pauses at this, lips pressing into a fine line.

“Mr. H?”

He looks down at you and once again, you are stricken by a sense of familiarity.

“Do you really not remember who I am?” he asks.

You want to shake your head, but your attention is already somewhere else, somewhere much more inviting.

You watch his lips move as he repeats your name and feel yourself leaning closer as your eyes start to close. You see him giving up on the question as he mirrors your actions. You can’t remember the last time you felt so blissful wrapped up in someone’s arms like you belong there and nowhere else.

However, as soon as your lips touch, he pulls away hurriedly and jumps off the couch.

“I-I’m sorry!” you stammer.

“No!” he says too angrily. “I mean, don’t be; it’s not your fault, it’s mine.”

“I should have read the signs. I should have known you don’t feel the same,” you continue, tears threatening.

He hurries back to you upon seeing your state. “No, no, you’re wrong, Y/N. I love you more than anything.”

His sudden confession surprises you. “But that ring…” You look at the wedding band he has on a chain around his neck every time you see him.

“Oh, this? It’s… it’s for someone I lost long ago.”

You let out a noise of understanding. “I’m sorry if I undermined your memory of her.”

“It’s not that…”

“Then why did you pull away? Do I-- Do I repulse you?”

“Don’t you dare think that!” he scolds. “If anything, it’s me who’s repulsive.”

“What do you mean?”

He drops his gaze. “They did a really good job, didn’t they?”

“Mr. H, wha--”

“Three years I have spent looking for you, and five more I spent in your and Nayeon’s presences-- company which I do not deserve-- yet I have been so selfish, so unwilling to let it all go.”

“What are you--”

“But I can’t lie to you any more, Y/N. Not when I’ve spent all these years doing so.”

“Mr. H, please. You’re confusing me even more.”

“Levanter Inc,” he says suddenly.

“The memory erasing firm?” you frown. “What about them?”

He finally lifts his eyes to meet yours. “Are you sure you want to know the truth?”

“If that’s what’s keeping us apart, then yes,” you answer determinedly.

He thinks for a moment before continuing, “I just want you to know, that if you want nothing to do with me anymore after learning it, I completely understand.”

“Mr. H…”

“You know that’s not my name.”

“Then what is it?”

He swallows a knot and reaches a hand towards yours. You let him take it and he slips a cold object onto your finger. It’s a wedding band, you realize. One that matches with his.

He twists it over to show you an engraving on the side. “Read it,” he tells you. “Read it and you’ll have the answers to everything.”

You cast him one final look before vocalizing the string of characters that encrowns your finger like it has been there your whole life.

And then the memories came flooding back.

You are hollow as you stare at the stick in your hands. You are supposed to be happy. At least, your sister was when she told you the news while wrapped up in her husband’s arms. Your best friend was too when she called you while her husband’s smooches sounded over the phone, so why aren’t you?

You let out a sigh as you drop it into a zip lock along with all the other tests that all read the same results. You look at the clock. It reads half past midnight, meaning it will be at least another two hours before your own husband arrives. You guess you can go to bed first like you do every night, but you know the discovery you just made is going to keep you restless. Instead, you keep busy by cleaning every spot of the house to distract yourself from the emptiness inside you.

Truth is, you know why you aren’t happy about the news. You know why you haven’t been happy in general for a while now. Last month’s attempt to rekindle that flame with your husband had failed and resulted in the predicament you are in now.

Perhaps it isn’t such a bad thing though; perhaps this is the push you needed, you realize as you wipe down the last of the kitchen counter. It’s a little past three now. You sit by the dining table with a glass of milk, facing the door waiting for the only person who can pass through it while fidgeting with your engagement ring. A half hour later, he stumbles past the threshold as drunk as he usually is.

“Y/N?” he grunts. “Why are you still awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh.”

His tie is missing and he reeks of substances you can’t even name.

“Aren’t you going to ask why?”

He lets out a fed up exhale and turns to you. “Look, I work hard at my job every day and am exhausted. I don’t have time for this.”

You’re calm as you ask, “But you have time for this, right?” You pull out a bottle of whiskey and slam it on the table.

“So what if I do?” he snaps back. “I need something to distract me from what’s waiting for me at home!”

“I’m your wife,” you remind him bitterly.

“No, you’re just a regret.”

Instinctively, your hand flies up to your belly. Is this a regret too? It must be, you realize.

“What’s that?” he demands, spotting your bag of used tests on the coffee table.

“Nothing!” you insist, running to it first and hiding it behind your back.

“Give it,” he growls to which you shake your head.

“Give it!” he screams again.

When you don’t listen, he raises his palm and pierces the room with a clear smack as it connects with your face. As it does, the bag flies from your hands and he dives to catch it. You stare at him, scared senseless as an unreadable expression crosses his face as he realizes what is in his hands. Even the pain on your cheek can’t compare to the one in your heart as it slams itself against your rib cage.

Finally, when he looks up with stunned eyes, you snap out of your trance and slip your wedding ring off your finger. You press the metal into his palm and curl his clammy fingers around it.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, fighting back tears. “I know this is the last thing you wanted-- with me, at least-- but I know I can’t raise my child in this environment either. I hope you’re happier without us. I hope that you can keep your promise the next time you give someone this…”

With that, you turn on your heels and march out the front door.

“No wait, Y/N!” he cries after you, sounding completely sober now.

His height advantage lets him catch up to you in no time. He grabs your wrist to turn you around but immediately drops it when he sees the fire in your eyes.

With finality, you state, “Good bye, Hyunjin.”

~ ad.gold

A/N: Thank you for your request and support! I’m sorry I couldn’t do your first request. I’ve actually never seen a Studio Ghibli film cause I’m a petty never-have-i-ever player and that one always gets everyone AHAHAHA. I hope you enjoyed what I have here! ~ad.gold

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #skz #request #eternal sunshine of the spotless mind #skz fic #stray kids fic #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #hyunjin fic #hyunjin angst #fem reader #20200815

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so-langdon · 5 years

Text

Night of a Lifetime - Michael Langdon x Fem! Reader (Requested)

Summary: (Au) Michael and Y/N have been best friends and roommates for awhile. Y/N has been in love with him for awhile too, but tries dating someone else to get over Michael knowing he’s just a player. But when Michael sees her with someone else, he gets angry.

Warnings: Angst, fuckboy! Michael, jealous! Michael, possessive! dom! Michael, sexual tension, some dirty talk, biting, sexual situations, sensual touching, some choking, strong language

A/N: Finally had some time to write and got this written! @saltyshaggymeme wanted an AU fic of Michael with a “man-bun”, so I added that in of course, so hope you enjoy! Let me know! <3

I haven’t written in over a month, maybe even two, due to being so busy with work and I feel like my writing has already lost so much substance so I apologize if this is shitty.

And I will be posting my Xavier fic about loving his scars sometime next week hopefully!

Tagged!: @hecohansen31 @blakewaterxx @sarahandthejets @michaelsapostle @1-800-bitchcraft @ccodyfern @rocketgirl2410

(tagged some who i thought may want to read but just ignore if not !! )

The piercing blue eyes of Michael Langdon stare into Y/N’s, baring straight into her soul. Michael’s long layered locks are up in a bun, a few strands framing around his face perfectly, giving him an alluring and intimidatingly handsome appearance. He grins confidently and sultry, causing her heart to flutter, making her want to kiss his soft, full lips already, yearning to satiate the hunger inside of her for him.

But in just the blink of an eye, the vision of Michael in front of her fades away completely, causing Y/N to shake her head a bit and blink a few more times before narrowing her eyes on the actual person in front of her.

Brock, the guy Y/N was currently dating sits beside her on the couch, having had snapped his fingers to get her attention as she clearly zoned out and her mind wandered to a completely different person.

“You okay,” Brock asks as he scoots closer to Y/N on the couch, reaching over for the remote and lifting it up to the television to put the movie they’re watching on pause. “I was talking and you just weren’t saying anything,” he adds.

“Yeah, sorry,” Y/N forces a smile. “I was just, uh, thinking about what movie you’d want to watch next,” she smiles more to seem more sincere and like she wasn’t just fantasizing about another man.

Y/N and Brock had been on a couple of dates before, having met in a shared class last semester. She didn’t really have a thing for him, hence why it was so easy for her mind to drift off to someone else in particular. But Brock was cute, personable and seemingly good enough for distracting Y/N from her mind-consuming thoughts of her actual crush: Her roommate and best friend, Michael Langdon.

She and Michael had known each other a few years, having had bonded and really connected from the get go when meeting at freshman orientation. Michael didn’t have much family, and Y/N was the first person he felt he could really trust, the two forming a strong bond once meeting and getting along together so well.

Though, they had never been anything other than friends. Y/N had grown feelings for Michael over the months, but would never dare dream of telling him, knowing he didn’t feel the same way, especially with knowing how he jumped from girl to girl.

Michael was a bit of a fuckboy for lack of a better term. Michael didn’t date, didn’t have relationships, didn’t have crushes. Just flings, hook-ups, one time things. He was the stereotypical college boy, knowing how popular he was considering his handsome looks and flirty charm.

Michael was still sweet and friendly nonetheless, but he wasn’t interested in any type of commitment or relationship that didn’t end that night or following morning at the latest. He wasn’t ready to settle down in any way as of yet.

Y/N knowing this about Michael, could never imagine telling him of her feelings, figuring he wouldn’t just reject her, but would complicate their friendship too. Even with Michael being a fuckboy, player, whatever you wanted to call it, he still always made time for Y/N, letting her know she was the most important person in his life. So she’d rather have him in her life as her best friend, than not at all.

Since she knows she and Michael can never be together, she’s decided it’s time to start dating and to stop waiting around and hoping for Michael to admit some kind of love for her when she knew it wasn’t true.

Or so she thinks.

Nevertheless, when Brock asked her out, she went for it, figuring it would be good for her to move on from Michael and to get over her feelings. But, here she was, on the couch of her shared apartment picturing Michael as her date instead of Brock, attempting and failing to hide her feelings about everything.

Of course Y/N knew she didn’t really like Brock and didn’t have an actual interest in dating him. But she wanted to get over her feelings for Michael so despairingly, she was desperate for any kind of distraction and wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

But, even as Brock proceeded with making flirtatious moves, scooting closer to Y/N, and turning her face to his and kissing her, Y/N knew it was going to be more difficult than she thought when all she could think about and picture was Michael instead.

So she tried to lose herself in the feeling, in any positive feeling when kissing Brock back, trying to push her feelings and desires for Michael aside in the process.

The two ignore the movie playing on the television, making out on the couch like a couple of high school teenagers who have the house alone for the first time. Y/N lets Brock wrap an arm around her to pull her closer to him, resting his other hand on her exposed knee just below where her dress cuts off, slowly moving it up as he seems to have only one idea in mind she knows.

Typical college guys.

Y/N doesn’t care and goes along with it, thinking maybe sleeping with Brock will break whatever spell Michael has on her and it’ll be a foot in the right direction of getting over him.

But before she can make a decision or even have another thought about it, the lights in the living room turn on, a voice clearing their throat, and an obvious tension overtaking the atmosphere.

Brock and Y/N pull away from kissing and turn their heads to the other side of the room, seeing who other than Michael standing there.

He looks intimidating, his crystal blue eyes still beautiful but showcasing an unusual rage as he glares lightly. His long, layered hair that reaches past his shoulders is tied up in a well kept bun, always adding a sexiness to him when he has his hair up.

His mouth is frowning, his light pink lips still looking just as soft and plump as normal, but having an irritation to them. Dressed in a casual black t-shirt that’s just tight enough to show enough of his fit physique as he crosses his arms over his broad chest, black jeans to match and Doc Martins. He looks devilishly handsome, practically jaw-dropping, per usual.

“What are you doing here,” Y/N asks, narrowing her eyes and trying to ignore the increase of her heart beat as she looks at him, her body reacting more to Michael’s appearance alone than she was when kissing Brock.

“I live here,” Michael states almost sarcastically, yet still impassive.

Y/N rolls her eyes, pushing her captivated feelings to the side and putting up her own irritated front. “I mean, what are you doing here right now? I thought you were going out to meet up with some people and wouldn’t be home all night?”

“Changed my mind,” Michael answers detached, eyes glancing over to Brock beside her and staring daggers into him practically, causing Brock to look noticeably uncomfortable as he tries to avoid eye contact with Michael.

Y/N sighs, leaning back on the couch and crossing her own arms over her chest. “Well. Don’t mind us then, we’re just watching a movie. So you can go to your room now or whatever and leave.”

“Didn’t look like you were just watching a movie to me,” Michael states angrily as he looks at Y/N, ignoring the second part of her words, glaring a bit more and diverting his eyes from Y/N to Brock again beside her. “Who are you?” He asks a little too harshly

“This is Brock, my date for the evening,” Y/N emphasizes, answering. “Brock, this is Michael, my roommate,” Y/N adds looking from Brock and back to Michael.

“And best friend,” Michael adds irritated.

“Well, um cool,” Brock begins lightly. “Nice to meet you,” he gives a small wave at Michael, smiling a bit in the hopes that whatever tension that’s in the air will dissipate.

But that fails as only more tension seems to rise as the seconds pass. “Not really. This wasn’t the most comfortable scene to be coming home to,” Michael states as he keeps his arms crossed and looks back over to Y/N. “He needs to be heading out. It’s getting late.”

Y/N narrows her eyes again, Michael’s words catching her off guard. “It’s like ten o’ clock?” She states obviously.

“And? It’s getting late,” Michael repeats, furrowing his eyes and diverts his gaze to Brock. “So, go on and get going,” he says, dropping his arms and gesturing towards the door behind him so he can leave.

“Uhm,” Brock narrows his eyes too, but more confused, unsure if he should actually be leaving or not and looking at Y/N for a clarification.

“He doesn’t have to leave, we’re in the middle of watching a movie still.” Y/N points out, uncrossing her arms as she sits up more.

“What does that have to do with anything? It’s getting late and--”

“It’s Friday night,” Y/N interjects.

“--And I’m going to bed, so I would rather not be disturbed by the movie, or whatever else that might go on,” Michael articulates.

“Whatever else? Are you serious?” Y/N glares, standing up and finding an anger building inside of her. “That’s so hypocritical.”

Y/N was no stranger to Michael having girls over, whether that be them in the living room on the couch like Y/N and Brock, or in Michael’s room. Y/N never said anything, never interrupting and disturbing whatever they were clearly doing, always letting Michael live his life because they’re adults and this wasn’t high school (and she never wanted to risk showing any jealousy too).

And yet, Michael has the nerve to demand that her date for the evening, whether she actually liked him or not, leave when Michael’s come home now, though he wasn’t even supposed to be home in the first place.

“Hypocritical how?” Michael raises his head, almost amused but trying to act clueless. “I’ve asked nicely for your guest to leave as it is late and I would like to go to bed knowing that my apartment is free of strangers.”

“Brock isn’t a stranger, he’s my guest, and you’re kicking him out very rudely, so that’s bullshit,” Y/N argues.

“Um, hey,” Brock interjects shyly, “I don’t want to get in the middle of.. whatever this is that’s starting, so I’m gonna just, you know, head out,” Brock says awkwardly, interrupting the current conversation and standing up.

“What, you are?” Y/N looks at him with a bit of disappointment. She wasn’t really that upset over Brock wanting to leave, finding more relief in it than anything. But she didn’t want him to leave because it would mean Michael would have won, and then she’d also lose further opportunity in trying to get over her feelings for Michael, or attempts, at least.

“Yeah, I’ll just see you later,” he smiles a bit and grabs his jacket off the couch and walks past Michael, still avoiding eye contact and leaves out the door without another word being said.

Y/N watches quietly as Brock leaves without even looking back. Y/N crosses her arms and glares back at Michael, a bit of humiliation and obvious anger showing on her face, remaining silent until the door shuts behind Brock.

“Glad that’s over with,” Michael speaks fluidly and walks off towards his bedroom door, thrilled Brock is finally gone and not just away from Y/N, but also that no other opportunity to be kissing her or whatever else will occur now.

"Glad that’s over with? What is wrong with you,” Y/N calls out, turning to him as he walks by her, obviously frustrated with the situation. “That was so rude and embarrassing! You had no right in doing any of that.”

Michael turns to her, “Look, I know it’s your apartment, but it’s mine too, and I wasn’t comfortable having him here.”

“He was here for me, not you,” she states. “Why would it make you uncomfortable to have him over when he’s not even here to see you in the first place, and we weren’t doing anything that would have bothered you anyway,” she says. “You weren’t even supposed to be here, but I’m allowed to have whoever I want over and when I want.”

“No you aren’t,” Michael snaps, his fists suddenly tightening by his sides. “Not when it’s some weird, random guy that you haven’t mentioned to me about.”

“I have mentioned him before,” Y/N points out. “He’s not some weird, random guy. He’s from a class I had last semester,” Y/N says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Michael narrows his eyes, “You mean that’s the guy you’ve been going out with and texting and shit?” Michael points, tone becoming more irritated. “You had one class with him and then ran into him on campus. You hardly know the guy, and you have him over in our shared apartment without me knowing?”

“Oh, what, I need your permission now in who I go out with?” She furrows her eyes. “You never ask me for ‘permission’ when you bring girls over.”

“That’s completely different,” Michael exclaims, gesturing out. “This is you and some guy you hardly know, and you two were fucking making out! Who knows what else could have happened!”

“Who cares?” Y/N speaks confused and frustrated. The way Michael was talking to her made her feel like she was some kind of child. She and Brock had been seeing each other for just the last few weeks but she knew him a lot better than Michael did with the girls he hangs with. “What does that have to do with anything? That’s between he and I.”

“No, it’s not. You can’t just be fucking making out with some random guy in our apartment without me knowing. You should have checked with me first!” He calls.

“Why are you so mad and yelling,” Y/N crosses her arms. “You’ve been so weird lately and just,” she shakes her head, “over-protective. What’s up your ass?” She asks, causing Michael to roll his eyes. “You know you have been, don’t you dare deny it,” she points.

Michael had been acting a bit strange lately whenever Y/N happened to mention the new guy she had been talking to. From a series of interrogating questions, to annoyed behavior and a short temper, always emphasizing that Y/N should be careful. Y/N never thought anything of it, always thinking Michael was just in a bad mood from class or work and she just caught him at the wrong times, while also being a normal best friend and warning her to be safe.

But she didn’t know that Michael’s “weird” and “over-protective” behavior was due to him being jealous and actually upset over having to hear about Y/N talk and gush about some guy she was apparently crushing on, her smiling and giggling over texts and saying how nice and great he was. Michel hated hearing it, but couldn’t tell her to stop without making it obvious the reason why.

“I’m not being weird or anything,” he glares. “You just can’t be doing this,” he says, knowing he didn’t have any other valid argument and his behavior wasn’t making any sense. But he was too scared to admit the truth.

Y/N stares at him, her expression implying that was the dumbest argument she’s ever heard, which Michael knows, but wasn’t going to be admitting that either.

“What,” Michael exclaims, shrugging his shoulders.

“I just,” she shakes her head in disbelief, “can’t be doing this? What, dating? Having guys over for movie nights and stuff? Having fun?”

“Yes, dating and having guys over for movie nights and stuff and having fun,” Michael clarifies matter of fact.

“You literally bring girls home all the time?” Y/N calls out. “What’s the difference? Plus, Brock is really chill and nice,” she explains.

“Brock? Really?” Michael crosses his arms over his chest and raises his eyes. “He’s just using you.”

Y/N drops her jaw, offended. “Using me? For what?”

“You know exactly what,” Michael drops his arms and gestures an arm out. “You’re not stupid, you know all he wants is one thing and that is all he is trying to get from you. And once he gets it, he’ll be done with you.”

“First of all, you don’t know anything about Brock. Second, you do the exact same shit to girls. All the time,” she emphasizes. “You bring them over here, without my ‘permission’, and you ‘hardly know them,’” she mocks.

“It’s consensual,” Michael steps forward. “Before I bring them home, they know it’s just a hook-up, a one time thing. But that’s besides the point,” he waves off. “You deserve better than some guy who’s just trying to use you for a one quick fuck.”

“Who are you, my dad?” She shakes her head dumbfounded. “I can make my own decisions, Michael.”

“I don’t want your first time having sex to be with some loser asshole who doesn’t care about you,” Michael states quite genuinely, because Michael is sincere about that and obviously cares for her, but is also indirectly possessive and doesn’t want her to be with anyone else either.

“Um, hold on a second, my first time?” Y/N raises her eyes. “I’ve had, you know, sex before,” she says as confidently as she can.

Michael laughs out, crossing his arms again over her response and the way she spoke it, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I wanted to let you have your moment, but I just couldn’t hold it in.”

“I’ve done it,” Y/N says a bit shyly as her face heats up with embarrassment and annoyance.

“No you haven’t,” Michael grins. “Trust me, I know. Your response alone would have told me that too, but I just know you.”

“Wha -- I,” She trails off, her jaw dropping a bit, trying to think of something to say and to put Michael in his place in some way, even though she knows he’s right.

Michael raises his eyes, smirking, knowing the truth about her.

Y/N breathes out frustrated and a bit embarrassed still. “Fine. Whatever. Fuck you.”

Michael bites his tongue, holding back the urge to make her words a reality. He’s been waiting for a moment between them to happen for forever it seems now. But he’s always been unsure of when to make the move, always being worried and afraid of being rejected and to ruin their friendship in any way, of course being unaware of her feeling the same way back.

“You’re just mad because you know I’m right -- about everything,” Michael says.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” she scoffs. “Is this how it’s always going to be? Whenever I date a guy now and bring him over or anything, I have to get your ‘permission’ and check in with you? I mean, you’re not my fucking dad or brother or something.”

“I’m your best friend, and roommate,” Michael states, as if that has any power in the situation.

“Who’s currently pissing me off,” Y/N states harshly.

“I would just rather you wait to date a guy that’s actually nice and cares for you and treats you well and won’t use you for sex,” Michael says.

“That’s not your choice,” Y/N states confidently. “You may be my best friend, but you don’t know everything about me. How do you know I don’t want to just hurry up and have sex and get it over with?”

Michael narrows his eyes, surprised to hear her say something like that considering he knows the kind of person she is, thus leaving him momentarily confused.

“Maybe I don’t think it’s that big of a deal so I’m just trying to live my life. Or, maybe Brock really does care about me and it’s headed somewhere good. We both know you know nothing about him since you kicked him out so fast,” she speaks aggravated.

“I know how you think, Y/N. I know how you work,” Michael raises his head arrogantly. “You just have a half ass crush on that guy because he’s putting in all this effort and seems really great, but actually he’s just trying to fuck you one time and then move on to the next girl. And then, you’ll be left heartbroken.”

“Trust me, you really don’t know how I work, because I’m not dating him for that reason at all,” Y/N crosses her arms.

Michael gives a confused expression, more confused than he was just seconds ago.

Y/N just rolls her eyes. “Whatever. He’s gone, it’s done, and I’m done with this conversation now,” she says as she drops her arms and walks past Michael to go to her room for the evening. She’s too irritated and frustrated with Michael to continue speaking to him any further about Brock, sex, his annoying behavior this evening, or any of the events of tonight.

So she walks into her room, ready for this night to end and to think about what she’s going to do about her feelings of Michael since going out with Brock is now a total bust.

She pushes her bedroom door behind her as she steps in, allowing the door to close on it’s own. But her bedroom door slams shut a second later instead, drawing her attention as the shut was too harsh for it to be have been done by her.

Y/N narrows her eyes when she sees Michael standing in her room, clearly being the one to have slammed the door behind her and him now, too. She crosses her arms as she faces him, eyeing him bemused but still irritated from everything.

“I said I was done with the conversation. Don’t you dare try to--”

Michael strides over to Y/N assertively as she speaks, grabbing her waist and pulling her into him, causing her arms to drop as she presses her palms to Michael’s chest and he crashes his lips against Y/N’s, halting her words.

Shock and complete confusion muddles Y/N’s mind as she finds the moment to be too good to be true, her heart racing a million miles a minute. A breath-taking euphoria overtakes her, her not wanting this moment to ever end as Michael has just taken control of this situation and kissed her.

Y/N’s so immersed in the feeling of Michael’s lips against hers; his hands and arms wrapping around her securely, it feeling like he will never let her go; that she doesn’t process the next moment when she and Michael are stumbling back to her bed and falling over onto the soft mattress.

“You confuse the absolute fuck out of me,” Michael breathes out, almost hissing, once he pulls away from Y/N, kneeling up over her as she watches him pull his black t-shirt off and throw it to the side, exposing his fit torso. His bun is a bit messy now with all of the sudden actions, a few strands of his hair falling around his face like earlier when her mind had wandered off to him, looking unbelievably enticing.

“One day, you’re giggling like some innocent school girl over that idiot asshole, and now, you’re implying that you were dating Brock just to fuck?” He glares. “To get that shit over with?” Michael leans in, colliding his lips with Y/N’s again as a hand clasps against her cheek, hardly giving her any time to react.

Y/N moans lightly against Michael’s mouth when he bites down on her bottom lip, pulling back lightly, a hand of his gripping around her throat firmly.

“If anyone is going to fuck you, it’s going to be me,” Michael practically seethes against her lips, causing a shiver to run through Y/N’s core from the husky and possessive nature of Michael’s words.

Michael’s other hand roams down Y/N, feeling along her body before pushing the fabric of her dress up and allowing his fingers to brush and rub against her through her underwear, already feeling the wetness that’s beginning to gather at her center, causing her breath to hitch all together as she feels his touch against her.

“And from the feel of it, it seems like you agree,” Michael speaks cockily with a devilish smirk, kissing her again before Y/N can say anything, feeling like her skin is on fire, knowing she’s in for a night of a lifetime.

A/N: Let me know what you think! Any and all feedback is much appreciated! <3

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