sash

Summary: Porthos has been in a fight; luckily for him he has you to look after him. Pairing: Porthos x Female Reader WordCount: 532 Prompt: “Yeah, but you should see the other guy.” Warnings: N/A A/N: 30 Days of 30 Drabbles for my 30th Birthday Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

Porthos grinned when he watched you stroll towards him. It had been a long day, and he’d found himself in several altercations - Nothing he couldn’t handle. His body was tired and aching after the physically strenuous day. He slowly made his way over to you, observing how your smile dropped and morphed into worry. He hated it when you looked at him like that. 

“Have you been in a fight?” You placed your basket down on the ground, immediately beginning to scan Porthos’s body for injuries. 

 “Yeah, but you should see the other men.” Porthos had been proud of his win; he’d taken them down with an expert ease. Injury was expected when one was a musketeer. Porthos didn’t ignore how you shook your head at the mention of other men. Regardless, your hand traced the cut above his eye tenderly. Capturing your hand in his, Porthos pressed a kiss to your palm. A sliver of a smile as his beard tickled your palm. 

“Have your wounds been cleaned?” 

“They have, but I’d prefer your wistful gaze.” Porthos trusted the others. He knew everything was well taken care of. Nothing was broken; the bruises on his torso would heal, but it was a game between you.

He got hurt, and you two snuck away while you attended to his injuries. It reassured you, and he got to spend quality alone time with you. At times, he found it so impossible to find. 

You picked up your basket, and Porthos led you away from the others' prying eyes. All too soon, you were in the privacy of his chambers. As the door closed, Porthos closed into your space, forehead resting against yours, guiding your hands up to rest on top of his heart. 

“Still yours, still beating,” Porthos murmured between you. You leaned in, brushing your lips against him, careful to avoid the cut. He didn’t care as he pressed down harder, allowing himself to focus on every sensation. 

Pulling away reluctantly, you told him to go lie down. Who was he to say no to you? He slipped off his coat and quickly removed his shirt. He immediately heard you mumble something under your breath. No doubt ready to chastise him. 

“I’m convinced you get hurt just for this moment.” You grabbed the salve from a nearby table. Soon, straddling his lap. 

“Why would I do that? There are always other excuses to create moments like this.” 

“Such as?” With an eyebrow raised, you slowly lathered your hands with the salve, slowly rubbing it over the cuts and bruises. 

“Asking you to massage my aching body? Perhaps I wouldn’t use an excuse. Perhaps I’d steal you away.” With a roll of your eyes, you playfully slapped his bicep. “Ow.” Immediately, your face dropped in concern once more. 

When Porthos' facade broke, you slumped, relaxed once more. Porthos pulled you into him, desperate to kiss the pout off your lips once more. You relaxed against him, enjoying the moment between you. 

Can I get jelly-belly Bishop, with the following prompt, and maybe some possessive smut? 🙃

“You don’t control who I talk to.” “No, but I will control who talks to you.”

Hey there! Hope people understand the Tom Cruise reference 😬 Enjoy!

XXX

When you walk into the clubhouse, the first person you see is your old man. Any other time, he’d be your first stop, greeting him with a hello and a kiss, falling into his lap to ask him how his day was and how much he missed you.

But not today.

The fire from the fight before he left this morning is still flaming through your veins, so when he looks up and sees you, you flip in the bird before making your way past him to the bar.

“Four shots, prospect.” EZ pulls out a small tray, setting the glasses on them. “Oh, baby, you’re so cute.”

He gives you a confused look but continues to fill the glasses. Once he’s done, he sets the tray on the bar in front of you, surely expecting you to carry it over to the table that Bishop, Taza, and Hank are sitting at, but instead you tip the first one back, immediately followed by the second then the third and fourth.

The liquor burns, fueling your ire, but you refuse to give Bishop the satisfaction of starting something in the middle of the clubhouse.

“Everything okay?”

“You playing the part of the concerned bartender now, Ezekiel?” He holds his hands up going to back away but you stop him, lurching across the bar and grabbing his hand. “I’m sorry. The old man and I had some words this morning, I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

He smiles, his free hand coming to land on top of where you have a death grip on his other hand, patting them lightly. “I get it,” he says with a chuckle. “I’ve been on the receiving side of those words plenty of times.”

You can’t help but laugh, letting go of his hands and sliding back onto your barstool. “Yea, I’m sure you have.”

“Anything else I can get you right now?”

You look at the row of alcohol bottles, trying to decide if anything sounds good, but you finally just throw your hands up. “Surprise me.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Are you sure?”

You shrug, knowing that your goal tonight was getting drunk, not caring what you drink so EZ goes about pulling various bottles from the back. He bends under the bar and comes up with a drink shaker.

“What the fuck, where did that even come from?”

EZ blushes, cheeks turning a rosy shade of red. “When Angel said I’d get stuck behind the bar, I did a bunch of research on different drinks and mixology and stuff. Should have figured the guys wouldn’t be asking for many dirty martinis.”

You can’t help the whoop of laughter that rolls out of you, the mental picture of the club holding templo, each delicately pinching a martini glass has you in stitches, as you fall apart against the bar.

EZ’s laughing, too, as he puts the lid on the shaker, pulling it up by his head before doing what you assume is a textbook shake to mix the liquids and whatever else he put in there.

You’d all but forgotten about Bishop behind you until you hear his voice. “Hey, Tom Cruise, why don’t you go out and clean my bike.”

EZ stops, the smile dropping from his face. He fumbles for a glass, trying to pour your drink, but Bishop barks at him. “Fucking now.”

He looks at you in apology, wiping his hands on his jeans as he walks out from behind the bar, but you just lift your hand, waving him off. You grab the shaker, dumping the contents into a cup and taking a drink.

Holy shit, it is delicious and you wish you’d paid attention to what he put in it.

“Hope that is worth it.”

You glance out of the corner of your eye to see Bishop standing next to you. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s going to be outside for the next twelve hours making sure there’s not a speck of dirt on any of those bikes.”

You turn to him, setting your drink down. “What the fuck for?”

Finally looking at Bishop, you see the anger burning in his eyes. “You think you can walk into my clubhouse, completely ignore me, then sit over here and flirt with the prospect?”

“Flirt?” you all but bark at him, trying to keep your voice low, but the alcohol is diminishing your ability to control your emotions. “How fucking dare you. You don’t control who I can talk to.”

He smiles, his chin tipping forward to touch his chest, as he takes a step closer, his hand slipping around the back of your neck. It’s warm but sends chills down your spine as the smooth calluses drag over your skin until he tugs you over, your ear at his lips. “You forget who’s in charge around here, sweetheart.” His hand tightens fractionally on your neck. “I may not be able to control who you talk to but I can fucking control who fucking talks to you.”

You jerk back, staring at him, refusing to back down. He doesn’t back down, meeting your eyes, watching as the emotions roll through you. Just as you are about to fly off the handle, his thumb on your neck starts to rub in small circles and all of the heat in your veins pools in between your legs. Bishop must see the change in you immediately, his pupils blowing wide.

“Meet me at home in ten?”

He shakes his head. “Meet me in templo in two.”

Reread it and I’m cackling at the thought of the guys with martinis at templo 😂

Jealous Bishop is my favorite mmmfh I’m staring at the wall after this cause tell me why I could feel his hand on my neck and picture everything all so well!

“Meet me in two?”

Hell, let’s just give em a show, right here, right now! 😂

Summary: How the guys would react if they overheard some guy hitting on you and saying that your boyfriend is a bitch. Inspiration came from the song below.

Taglist: @keyweegirlie @hatersaremymotivators @meera10 @kikijackson-blog @im-just-a-mississippi-girl

A hint of mischief is in Coco's eyes as he turns to you after knocking the guy out who had went from telling you how beautiful you were to telling Coco he was a bitch and he could steal you away if he really wanted to.. "My bad ma" he states with a smile. You had been begging for a normal date night away from the clubhouse and brothers. As much as you loved them and the club sometimes it was nice to have a quiet dinner at a nice restaurant outside of town. You couldn't help the smile and laugh as you shook your head as you reached for his hand quickly moving to your car. "I can't take you anywhere. Always getting me in trouble" he continued as the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance.

Edward Bluemel knowing and giving fandom exactly what it wants

Bonus:

It sounds like Emily made him the horse boy bracelet??